The room felt smaller than it was.
The steady hum of medical equipment, the faint antiseptic sting in the air, the quiet weight of realization pressing against my chest.
I stood frozen, staring at Alexis Harrington, my mind working faster than my body could respond.
Not just about Mr. Angel. Not just about my survival.
I had spent practically a full year crafting identities, weaving masks so seamlessly that even the most persistent hunters struggled to follow my trail. I had deceived governments, navigated through shadowed corridors of power, and kept my true self buried beneath layers of calculated deception.
A single nurse, standing there with that amused smirk, had figured me out.
She leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over her chest, radiating effortless confidence. Her cropped platinum-blonde hair framed sharp, inquisitive blue eyes that flickered with something more than just amusement.
"You really chose to wear another mask, huh?" she mused.
Instead, I forced my body to move, inhaling carefully as I shifted my weight on the bed. Earth's gravity was heavier than I remembered. Every muscle in my body, weakened from months of reduced gravity, screamed in protest. My limbs felt like lead, my nerves sluggish.
Still, I adjusted. I always did.
With deliberate slowness, I reached for the Angel mask on the bedside table, running my fingers over the smooth white-and-gold surface. My reflection warped in its polished finish, fractured by the curve of the material.
A long breath escaped my lips. Then, finally, I turned to face her.
"Unfortunately, I don't really understand what you are talking about?" I said.
Alexis chuckled, stepping forward. "Oh, come on. You're not that good at hiding."
She tilted her head. "Alright, fine. You actually are that good. But, last year, I was the one who patched you up as Mr. Dust, remember? And don't think I forgot your face! I memorized every detail about your injuries, your physiology. When they brought you here, all it took was a single glance."
She tapped her temple. "Same frame. Same old injuries. Different mask."
I exhaled slowly. There was no point denying it now.
"You're the only person," I murmured.
"Besides your little fan club?" she teased, but then her voice softened. "Yeah. Looks like it."
I searched her gaze, looking for something—anything—that might indicate she was a threat. A risk. Someone who would sell this information to the highest bidder.
But I didn't see betrayal.
And that made her more dangerous than I liked.
"Let's get this over with," Alexis said, slipping into doctor mode as she grabbed a tablet and began scanning my vitals. "You passed out pretty spectacularly, by the way."
I leaned back slightly, forcing my breathing to steady. "What happened?"
"You crash-landed, walked a few steps like a tragic hero, then collapsed in front of the world's biggest audience. Real cinematic moment, honestly."
I resisted the urge to sigh. Of course.
She continued, "They brought you here because of me. Since I had already treated you as Mr. Dust, I had legal confidentiality agreements in place. The government realized that keeping you under my care was their safest bet—otherwise, they'd have to bring in someone new, and they couldn't risk your mask coming off."
My fingers tightened slightly. "So they never saw?"
Alexis smirked. "Nope. Thanks to the girl with black hair."
My breath hitched for a second.
Alexis continued, clearly uninterested in the global celebrity scene. "She made sure they couldn't remove your mask without exposing themselves to the entire world. If they violated your privacy, they'd be incriminating themselves in front of millions."
Camille had forced their hand. They had no choice but to keep their distance.
Alexis finished adjusting one of my IV drips before leaning against the counter, her piercing blue gaze flicking back to me. "Alright. My turn to ask a question."
I gave a slow nod. "Go ahead."
"Are you also Mr. Fox?"
A small smirk tugged at my lips.
"Yes," I answered simply. "Mr. Fox, Mr. Dust, Mr. Angel... and perhaps any other masked individual the world may come to know."
Alexis let out a low whistle. "Wow. You just admitted that like it was nothing."
I met her gaze, my expression unreadable. "You saved my life. Twice. I don't trust easily, but I know when someone is worth trusting."
For a moment, her usual confident smirk faltered—just a fraction. But then, it was back.
"Careful," she teased. "Say something like that, and I might start thinking you like me."
Alexis continued her routine check-up, moving efficiently as she tested my reflexes, scanned my muscle function, and checked for lingering injuries.
"Your body's a mess," she muttered. "Muscle deterioration, malnourishment, exhaustion... You should be dead, honestly."
"Disappointed that I'm not?" I quipped.
She snorted. "No, but I was expecting at least a little more struggling from you. Instead, you're just casually defying biology."
I hummed. "It's a habit."
She raised a brow but didn't press further.
I took the opportunity to shift the conversation. "What about Camille and Sienna?"
Alexis let out a mock gasp. "Oh, your girls?"
She smirked. "They're outside, along with half the world. You've been unconscious for two days, and the media hasn't left since. They want in on the 'story of the century.' How a C-Ranked astronaut somehow survived Mars, came back from the dead, and announced the existence of the World President."
I exhaled through my nose. "Which means Camille and Sienna can't get in."
"Exactly. If they came to see you, people would start making connections. And if the world figures out who you are..." She trailed off.
I nodded. Understood.
Alexis hesitated for a moment, then folded her arms.
"Alright, my turn. How the hell are you capable of... well, all of this?"
I considered lying. It would have been safer. But Alexis had seen too much already.
She had saved my life twice.
So, I decided to trust her.
"I have the ability to gain multiple professions. I can copy skills, access an immense database, and adapt to any job."
I expected skepticism. Doubt. Maybe even mockery.
What I didn't expect—
The usual playful glint in Alexis's eyes darkened, replaced by something sharper. Something hungry.
For the first time, she didn't look like a nurse. She didn't look like a caretaker.
She looked like a scientist who had just found something fascinating.
Her voice dropped, smooth and calculated. "A complete outlier, huh? Something that shouldn't exist."
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
Alexis stepped back, her grin widening. "Oh, don't mind me. I just have a thing for anomalies. Especially when medicine and biology could be involved."
I tensed slightly. "You're too interested."
She winked. "I like knowing what makes things tick."
I opened my mouth to respond—but before I could, she straightened her uniform and regained her composure.
"Anyway," she said, her voice turning casual again, "one last question before I go."
I narrowed my eyes. "What is it?"
She tilted her head, amusement flickering across her face.
"What are you going to do about your court case?"
"...What court case?"
Alexis smirked. "Oh right, you wouldn't know...Well in two months, there's a massive trial regarding the members of the so-called Masked Syndicate. Including—" she made a small gesture toward me— "Mr. Fox, Mr. Dust, and Mr. Angel."
I exhaled sharply, my fingers curling into a fist.
"You're being charged with hiding your true rank, concealing your abilities... and potentially being part of a terrorist organization."