The hospital halls were quiet, though the tension was thick enough to choke on. Jessie and Leo lay on their stretchers, black eyes open yet unseeing, their faint lightning-blue glow pulsing softly under the harsh fluorescent lights. Machines beeped erratically, monitors occasionally spiking in alarms that the staff had learned to ignore… mostly.
Amie Robin hovered beside Jessie's bed, her hands clenched into fists as she watched every movement—or lack thereof. Across the hall, Leo's grandparents hovered near Bay 7, tense and silent, exchanging worried glances at every flicker of the monitors.
Then Ava Coleman bounced into the ER again, practically vibrating with excitement.
"Alright!" she said, hands on her hips. "Time for phase two. Pack your stuff, because we're taking your favorite boys on a field trip!"
Amie blinked. "Field trip?" she asked, already wary.
"Yes! But… don't panic, it's a very, very medically advanced field trip." Ava grinned, giving her a wink. "I promise. Mostly safe. Probably."
Leo's grandmother narrowed her eyes. "Explain. Now."
Ava gestured toward Hal, who had been quietly observing in the background. He stepped forward, calm and commanding, and the room seemed to hush at his presence.
"Good afternoon," Hal said, voice deep and measured. "I am Hal Coleman. Ava's father. We're here to provide specialized care for your grandchildren. We have the resources, personnel, and equipment to manage their unusual condition safely. And I am asking for your trust."
Amie crossed her arms. "Trust? You want us to trust you… with Jessie?"
"Yes," Hal said simply, his gaze steady. "And Leo. I understand your concern. This is unprecedented. But I promise: they will be safe, monitored, and protected at all times. Ava and I will personally ensure it."
Jessie's mom let out a sharp exhale. "Safe… but why move them? They're stable here."
Ava leaned forward, still grinning. "Stable, yes. But not normal. And we've got a hospital that specializes in 'abnormal.' I mean, look at the glowing blue blood, the black eyes, the monitors that think they're dead. It's… complicated."
Leo's grandfather frowned. "You mean their bodies are… malfunctioning?"
Hal shook his head. "No, not malfunctioning. Just… extraordinary. And this environment cannot provide what they need."
Amie's voice was tight. "Extraordinary? You're saying… these boys—my son, my patient—are extraordinary? You can guarantee nothing will go wrong?"
Hal's eyes softened slightly. "No one can guarantee the unknown. But we can guarantee preparation, monitoring, and immediate response. And that's more than what any other facility can offer."
Ava piped in, teasing but earnest. "Basically, we've got a hospital that's like… normal hospitals on steroids. And we have experience with… well, let's say unusual kids."
Amie blinked. "Unusual kids?"
"Yes," Hal said calmly. "Their anomalies are real. They need a specialized environment. And that's what we provide. I am asking for permission to transport them safely."
Jessie's mom's jaw tightened. "Transport them… where?"
"To our private facility," Hal said. "State-of-the-art, fully equipped, controlled environment. Staffed with professionals trained for anomalies. And—very importantly—they will not be alone. Ava will be with them, and I will oversee everything personally."
Leo's grandmother gasped. "And you are… who exactly?"
Hal smiled faintly. "I am Hal Coleman. Billionaire, engineer, and medical philanthropist. And yes, my daughter Ava and I are very good friends with Jessie and Leo. That's why I can promise you—they'll be safe."
Amie raised an eyebrow. "Good friends? You've known them… how?"
Ava jumped in, sliding her phone out. "See for yourself." Photos and videos of Jessie and Leo at school, in labs, laughing with friends, and competing in robotics contests flashed across the screen.
"They're… normal," Leo's grandmother muttered.
"Normal-ish," Ava corrected with a grin. "But trust me, I've been around them enough to know they're not going to suddenly self-destruct. Mostly."
Amie let out a shaky laugh. "Mostly…"
Ava's grin widened. "Yes, mostly. And this man," she said, pointing at Hal, "is not only my father but the reason they'll be alive, intact, and monitored every second. He knows what to do."
Hal extended a hand, and one by one, he shook theirs—Amie's, Leo's grandparents'. "I understand your fear," he said quietly. "But I promise, with my resources and our experience with your children, they will be protected. I can answer any question you have. Please. Ask."
The questions came rapidly:
• "How can we be sure nothing goes wrong during transport?"
• "What staff will be with them?"
• "What kind of facility is this?"
• "Why should we trust you?"
• "Will we get updates?"
• "What if something… unusual happens?"
Hal answered each carefully:
• "Specialized ambulances, continuous monitoring, redundancies in place."
• "Ava will be present; our team is trained for extraordinary conditions."
• "Private, secure, medically advanced hospital designed for anomalies."
• "You can trust us because we have known them, we care, and we have the capabilities to protect them. That is my guarantee."
• "You will receive constant updates. Live feeds, medical readouts, and contact with me personally."
• "Anything unusual, we act immediately. There is no risk taken lightly."
Amie's voice softened, still hesitant. "And you truly know them? You understand what they need?"
Hal nodded firmly. "Because of Ava, we do. And because of our resources, we can provide the safety and monitoring this situation demands."
Ava stepped closer, arms crossed, smirking. "Mom says the same thing. But yeah, dad's right. You'll see—it'll be fine. Mostly safe. Guaranteed."
Amie allowed herself a tentative nod. "Alright… we'll allow it. But… I'm watching every step."
"Expected," Hal said calmly. "And appreciated. Your vigilance is part of what keeps them safe. But now, let's begin the transport."
Jessie and Leo were gently lifted onto specialized stretchers. Monitors attached, IV lines secured, portable ventilators ready. Staff moved with caution, still tense over the unusual readings and glowing blue energy.
Ava hovered near Jessie. "Alright, buddy. Time for our field trip. No explosions—probably. Maybe some minor thrills."
Jessie's fingers twitched faintly; his Octagon core hummed softly under his chest.
Hal gave the final instructions to the staff. "Every precaution. Follow my protocol. Maintain observation. We leave on my signal."
The doors closed, and the high-tech ambulance hummed to life.
On the Road / In Transit
• Smooth ride, full monitoring, advanced containment for energy anomalies.
• Jessie's Octagon core pulses subtly stronger with movement.
• Ava teases both boys: "Seatbelts everyone! No spontaneous superpowers during transit!"
• Staff glance nervously at monitors, unsure if they're seeing normal vitals or another anomaly.
The facility loomed ahead: sleek, futuristic, secure, humming with life and technology. Staff greeted them professionally, guiding Jessie and Leo into specialized bays equipped with advanced monitoring and containment systems.
Hal walked alongside Amie and the grandparents. "Every system here is designed for extraordinary cases. They'll be monitored, safe, and treated with the utmost care."
Ava whispered softly to the boys: "Phase one complete. Now the real fun begins."
Jessie's Octagon core pulsed in the dim light. Prime stirred within him, waiting.
The parents exchanged glances, still worried but beginning to trust.
Hal smiled faintly. "They're in good hands. And we will ensure their safety, whatever it takes."
The hospital was silent, secure—but the energy that coursed through Jessie and Leo's bodies reminded everyone that the real story was just beginning.