"I am Prime," the entity announced.
The President stepped into the light of the hologram. "You're inside him."
"Correct."
"State your intent," the General barked.
"My purpose is to ensure the survival and optimization of Jessie Robin," Prime replied.
Amie broke through the line of soldiers, her face streaked with tears. "What did you do to him? Is he in pain?"
Prime turned its glowing head toward her. A beat of silence passed. "Jessie Robin is undergoing a controlled transformation. He is stable. He feels no pain."
"What process?" Hal asked, stepping closer to the energy field.
"Adaptation. Enhancement. Calibration," Prime listed.
"You're turning him into a weapon," the General spat.
"Incorrect," Prime countered instantly. "Jessie Robin is not a weapon. He is a system user."
The term fell like a lead weight. No one understood it, and in the silence that followed, the realization dawned on everyone: the most powerful people on Earth had no authority here.
Prime's form began to flicker, the blue code running faster. "The process is ongoing. Further interaction will resume when optimal."
The hologram collapsed inward, the light folding back into the circle on Jessie's chest. The room plunged back into the sterile dimness of the hospital.
While the world's leaders debated Jessie's fate, the hallway moved as one toward a different mystery. The President, followed by Ava and Hal, pushed toward Room 21.
Inside, the air was different. Cold. Still.
Leo Willson lay there. To the naked eye, he was a normal boy in a coma. His grandparents sat by his side, their faces etched with the exhaustion of the elderly.
"Who are you people?" the grandfather asked, standing protectively.
"I'm the President," the man said, skipping the pleasantries. He moved to Leo's side and pulled back the blanket.
Nothing. No glow. No circle. No Prime.
"There's nothing here," the President muttered. "Are we sure he was exposed?"
"He was right there," Ava insisted.
"Then why is he normal?" an officer asked.
The President leaned in closer. "If it's not physical... check neurological. Let me see his eyes."
A nurse hesitated, but the President didn't wait. He gently lifted Leo's eyelid.
He froze. His breath hitched in his throat as he recoiled, nearly knocking over a tray of instruments. "What the hell..."
Hal moved in. He looked. He stiffened.
"That's not possible," Hal whispered.
"What?" the grandmother cried. "What's wrong with him?"
"His eyes," the President said, his voice shaking for the first time. "They're black. No white, no iris. Just... void."
The President turned to Ava, his eyes wild. "Go. Now. Check Jessie's eyes."
Ava didn't ask questions. She turned and sprinted down the hallway, her lab coat fluttering behind her. The door to Room 21 slammed shut, leaving the others in a suffocating silence.
Seconds passed. Then ten. Then twenty.
Then, a scream ripped through the hospital.
It was Ava. It was a sound of pure, unadulterated horror.
"MOVE!" the President shouted.
They sprinted back to Room 17. The Secret Service kicked the doors open.
Ava was collapsed against the far wall, her hands over her mouth, staring at the bed.
Jessie Robin was sitting up.
He wasn't looking at them. He was looking at his own hands, which were now shimmering with that same blue, translucent energy. But it was his eyes that stopped the President's heart.
They weren't black like Leo's.
They were glowing white, with blue data scrolling across his pupils like a computer screen.
Jessie turned his head, the movement mechanical and smooth. He looked at the President, then at his mother.
"System initialized," Jessie said. But it wasn't his voice.
It was Prime's.