Hours passed, measured not by clocks or bells but by the slow progression of treatment itself. Time was marked by the changing rhythm of breath being monitored and by the diminishing number of urgent instructions being spoken aloud. Gradually the room quieted further—not becoming empty but achieving a different kind of steady state—as the most immediately critical work had been completed and what remained would simply take time that could not be rushed.
At last one of the senior physicians stepped back from the bed. He did not approach Thessian immediately, instead taking a moment as though deciding how to voice what could not be softened or made more palatable. Then he stepped forward carefully, moving with the caution of someone who understood he was about to deliver news that would not be well received.
"Alpha."
He used the title deliberately, choosing it not as empty courtesy but as recognition of the reality that now governed this room and this palace and this kingdom.
