Never Fade Away

The floating hospital hovered in a serene expanse of engineered precision, its sleek, oblong silhouette gleaming under the muted glow of the city’s eco-conscious lighting.

It wasn’t just a building—it was a marvel of bioengineering and advanced logistics, designed to bring care to the farthest corners of the megacity in minutes. With its seamless curves of silver and white, it looked more like a spacecraft than a medical facility, a testament to humanity’s relentless push toward a future where even emergencies bent to convenience.

All in all, there weren’t many disasters it couldn’t fix.

Lena may be its first.

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The hum of the hovering hospital’s projectiles surrounded Lena like a cocoon, its vibrations steady and rhythmic. The antiseptic scent was familiar, almost comforting, though she could have done without the ache that wrapped her limbs like an iron grip.

Lena lay on a levitating medical bed, its frame adjusting subtly to her movements, ensuring optimal support. Above her, a canopy of soft, dimmable lights mimicked the glow of the moon, further reinforcing the illusion of calm. The nanobot dispensers were hidden behind panels, silently releasing millions of microscopic repair units into her bloodstream. Every aspect of the room seemed designed to erase the chaos of what brought her here, replacing it with an engineered sense of control.

The sterile lighting overhead softened as Lena stirred, her senses returning slowly, accompanied by a voice—sharp, dry, and unmistakably familiar.

“Well, well, Lena. You’ve really outdone yourself this time.” Dr. Ayla Masquez stood at the foot of Lena’s floating hospital bed, her tablet balanced on one hand, her other resting on her hip. Her dark curls were tied back neatly, and her expression was that peculiar blend of exasperation and genuine care Lena had come to associate with her. “Your ability to dig yourself a bigger hole should be studied and hung on the wall for all to see.”

Lena groaned, blinking sluggishly at Ayla. “Good to see you too, Masquez.”

“Save the pleasantries,” Ayla said, swiping through her tablet. “Let’s talk about what put you here. Overexertion? Check. Severe dehydration? Check. Muscle strain bordering on atrophy? Big check. And no hydration in hours, because why would we do something so sensible?”

“I was training,” Lena muttered, her throat dry. “For work.”

Ayla arched a brow. “Oh, is that what we’re calling self-destruction now? Interesting rebrand.”

Lena tried to sit up, but her arms buckled, her muscles screaming in protest. Ayla moved quickly, pressing a gentle but firm hand to Lena’s shoulder. “Don’t even think about it. Let the nanobots do their job.”

“I’m fine,” Lena insisted, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her.

“You’re fine like an overclocked processor running on fumes,” Ayla countered. “Listen to me. Your de-aging treatments, combined with your lifestyle, are actively incompatible with a long-term biological existence. The nanobots can patch you up for now—repair the muscle tears, rebuild tissue—but this? This isn’t sustainable.”

Lena clenched her jaw, her gaze sliding away from Ayla’s piercing eyes. “It’s temporary. I just need to get through this project. Then I’ll—”

“Rest? Slow down? Reevaluate?” Ayla cut her off, her voice tinged with disbelief. “You’ve been saying the same thing for decades, Lena. When’s the last time you actually followed through?”

The question hung in the air.

“I cannot believe you didn’t come to me first when you were diagnosed. I’m your family doctor, Lena. Don’t you think you owe your mom and dad that much? Or were you just scared of what I’d have to say?”

“No,” Lena replied, her voice quieter than she intended. “And you’re barely older than me.”

“Yes. And who’s dying faster, Lena?” Ayla shot back, her tone sharp enough to sting. “Do you know how I found out? I had to track you down because your vitals and hormone levels were spiking like a siren. How could you cut me out of your emergency contact list?”

Lena shifted uncomfortably, her arms crossing. “I don’t know, Ayla. Maybe it had something to do with that time you pulled me out of an event for what you called a ‘medical emergency.’ You mean the fever? Remember that? While you were cooling me down, the Raindrop Collective made their debut. Uncontested. Everything changed.”

"Raine this, Raine that." Ayla pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes for a beat before exhaling sharply. “Do you even hear yourself right now? A fever isn’t ‘just a fever’ when you push yourself the way you do. Especially not at your age. Your priorities are a mess.”

Lena’s jaw tightened, her gaze hardening as she leaned back against the raised hospital bed. “A mess? You know why names like Michael Jackson, Prince, and David Bowie still resonate millennia later? Don't laugh. It’s because they left something real, something untouchable. I’m not there yet, Ayla. Not even close. Among a trillion people, Astra might not be enough. And I cannot—will not—let that happen.”

Ayla’s expression softened slightly, though her frustration remained etched into the tight line of her lips. “Lena, you’re fighting a battle that only exists in your head. You think the world will forget you?”

“Not like that,” Lena snapped. “You don’t get it, Ayla.”

Ayla leaned forward, her voice low but razor-sharp. “Lena, I’ve been your doctor for over 100 years. I’ve watched you kill yourself for this career. Literally. I’ve seen your body break down piece by piece because you refuse to rest, to listen, to stop pretending you’re invincible. It wasn’t some sudden freakish incident that caused your telomere reduction to accelerate. Get a grip.”

With that, Ayla turned to leave, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. 

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The quiet hum was broken by the soft hiss of the entrance door. Lena turned her head, her muscles stiff and uncooperative, as Margot stepped in. Her sister’s face was lined with worry, but her steps were steady, her presence grounding.

“Well, look who decided to show up,” Lena said, her voice raspy.

Margot pulled up a chair beside her bed, sitting down with a sigh. “Are you really in a position to be making jokes?”

“It’s my coping mechanism,” Lena replied. “Don’t take that from me.”

"I never could," Margot said. She pulled her hands around her lap. "I swear, these hovercars get crazier every time I use one. It's like they’re floating teacups now. No wheels, no sound, just… whoosh. You are where you want to be in minutes."

"They’ve been around for decades, Margot. Not exactly cutting-edge anymore."

"Oh, I know. But I still prefer my boots on solid ground, thanks. The most tech I use is the old monitoring drone for the fields. Even that’s pushing it. I leave the fancy diagnostics and robotics to the vets."

She leaned back slightly, studying Lena with that quiet intensity that had always made her squirm. “You look like hell.”

“Thanks,” Lena muttered. “I try.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the hum of the hovering hospital filling the gaps. Finally, Margot spoke. “I talked to Dr. Marquez on the way in. She says you’re stubborn as ever.”

“Big shock,” Lena said, avoiding her sister’s gaze.

Margot sighed. “Lena, you’re going to burn yourself out. But I don’t think you are going to listen. You already know yourself you are burning yourself out.”

Lena’s jaw tightened. “Got me. And yet, for all your psychoanalysis, you’ll never understand the pressure I am under. You are not that kind of person.”

“Maybe not,” Margot admitted, her voice calm. “But I do know this: you’re not going to stop no matter what I say. So, if you need help—any kind of help—I’m here.”

Lena frowned, her defenses rising instinctively. “I don’t need a babysitter, Margot.”

“Good,” Margot said, her tone unflinching. “Because I’m not offering to babysit. I’m offering to catch you when you fall. Which, by the way, seems to happen a lot lately.”

Lena’s lips twitched, a ghost of a smile breaking through. “You really think you can keep up with this circus?”

Margot shrugged. “Maybe not. But I can make sure you’re hydrated, at the very least.”

Despite herself, Lena let out a low laugh, the sound rough but genuine. For a moment, the weight of everything lifted, just slightly.

"Well, let it be known that I warned Margot Coleman first. I will let you know when my next concert date is after all this is done.”

Margot smiled faintly, her eyes warm but steady. “Deal.”