Behind the System’s Closed Doors

Elias shifted Lucy’s weight in his arms, ignoring the dull ache in his shoulders. Night pressed in around them, while distant roars of protest rumbled through the city. Overhead, a trio of aerial drones—sleek silhouettes under flickering streetlamps—hummed by, scanning for unregistered anomalies or signs of civil unrest. In the shadow of tall medical complexes and labs, it felt as if hope was a commodity sold only to the highest bidder.

Lucy stirred, leaning against his chest. She was taller than yesterday, her frame oddly elongated. In the past day, her body had developed subtle, disorienting curves where there had been none—an adolescent’s shape, conflicting with the ten-year-old mind still swirling in confusion beneath it. Every time she moved, Elias glimpsed a new detail that underscored the strangeness of her transformation: faint muscle tone in once-slender arms, hips that didn’t fit her old jeans.

“Dad…” Lucy asked, her voice unsteady and deeper than before, “where are we going?”

He glanced up at a flickering neon sign overhead: “ClearSky Health Services.” Over the last few hours, he had called every clinic listed on Dr. Moreau’s note. Most demanded insurance or “Chronos clearance codes” up front, refusing to help. One place said they’d see Lucy—for an astronomical fee. Now, desperation had led him here, hoping for some shred of mercy.

“Stay with me, Lucy,” Elias murmured. “We’ll try this one. Just… hold on.”

She felt as though the world had turned upside down. A day ago, she was a normal ten-year-old, still small enough to curl up next to her father on the couch—and to cuddle her plush turtle, which she’d often tucked under her arm. Now, her legs felt too long, her arms awkward and lanky. Her hoodie stretched across her chest in places it never had before, and the simple act of walking felt unbalanced.

I’m only ten, she reminded herself, blinking back tears. Why do I look like… this?

As they hurried across the sidewalk, Lucy noticed people turning to stare. Some looked shocked or confused, probably wondering at the mismatch between her frightened expression and her older body. One man, lurking near a broken city scanner kiosk, watched her far too intently, his gaze unsettling. Lucy’s pulse quickened. She pressed her face into her dad’s shoulder, longing to vanish behind his protective frame, wishing she’d brought her plush turtle to bury her face against.

“Dad…” she managed to say, voice trembling. “I’m scared.”

Elias’s only response was to hold her closer, urging her forward. Her heart pounded with every step, hammered by the lingering memory of being turned away at a hospital the night before. Will they just reject us again?

They reached the clinic’s automated doors. Inside, glaring overhead lights and sleek décor gave an impression of wealth and exclusivity. Lucy shuddered, expecting more cold stares.

The reception area was a stark contrast to the gloom outside: polished tiles, white walls, and a hovering holo-display advertising “Advanced Chronos Regulation!” and “Stem-Cell Temporal Realignment!” It all looked state-of-the-art—and forbiddingly expensive.

He approached the front desk, Lucy sagging at his side. The receptionist, eyes tinted by digital makeup filters, regarded them with measured detachment. She set aside her data-pad.

“Do you have an appointment?” she asked, her tone clipped.

“No,” Elias said. “But my daughter needs immediate help. She’s… aging too fast, from a time-bubble incident. Please. Can you do anything?”

The receptionist’s polite smile held no warmth. “We are a private facility specializing in advanced anomaly treatments. Before we can proceed, we require proof of payment or insurance clearance.”

“I don’t have money,” Elias admitted, bracing himself. “But I’ll do anything—just help her.”

The receptionist hesitated, typing on a sleek console. “I can check if Dr. Roach has an opening. If he does, you’ll need to arrange payment by the end of the consult.”

Elias nodded in tense relief, glancing down at Lucy. Her face was flushed, eyes half-lidded in exhaustion. He could feel the heat radiating from her body.

After a moment, the receptionist pointed them down a corridor. “Room 2-B. Please note: no financial clearance, no further treatment.”

Elias forced a thank-you. “Let’s go, Lucy.”

He guided her past a small airborne scanner drone patrolling the hallway, ignoring the hum of its cameras. Posters lining the walls showed beaming patients emerging from “Temporal Therapy Pods.” A pang of dread settled in his stomach—this place felt more like a for-profit enterprise than a sanctuary.

They arrived in Room 2-B, a cramped examination bay with outdated monitors. A tall, angular man in a medical coat waited, nametag reading Dr. Roach.

“You’re the anomaly case?” he asked without greeting, scanning Lucy with a critical eye.

Elias helped Lucy onto the exam bed, brushing back her hair. “Lucy… she started aging abnormally after a time-bubble incident.”

Dr. Roach lifted Lucy’s arm with impersonal detachment, prodding her elbows, then pressed a stethoscope to her chest. Lucy flinched when he ran a handheld device over her torso; the beep of the scanner felt intrusive.

“That’s cold—please,” Lucy murmured, embarrassed at how the device pressed against her newly tender breasts.

Roach ignored her protest, muttering into his digital interface. “Accelerated cellular growth. Potentially lethal unless regulated. We have stabilisateurs temporels for such conditions, but they’re extremely costly.” He glanced at Elias. “I assume you can’t pay upfront?”

Elias swallowed. “Name your price. We’ll work something out. I’ll do anything.”

Dr. Roach’s mouth tightened. “Initial deposit is four hundred thousand credits. Non-negotiable.”

A stunned silence followed. Lucy’s eyes brimmed with tears. Elias felt his heart sink. “I—I don’t have that,” he confessed. “Can’t you just start her on something and let me pay it off?”

“No deposit, no procedure,” Roach declared flatly.

Lucy choked on a sob, and fury surged in Elias’s chest.

“She could die if we wait!” he shouted. “You can’t just turn her away—”

Roach flicked a dispassionate gaze at Lucy, then shrugged. “Try the public sector if you want free care, though rumor says they’ve shut down specialized anomaly wards. Too high-risk.” He turned away dismissively, making a note on his device.

Elias’s head swam with disbelief. He doesn’t even care. Lucy’s face glistened with tears, but Dr. Roach showed no sympathy.

Elias clenched his jaw. “Lucy, we’re done here.”

He scooped her up, ignoring Roach’s muttered threat to call security if they lingered. He carried her out into the corridor, rage burning in his gut. This entire System—all about money and paperwork—was failing them again.

Back in the hallway, they passed a scene of more heartbreak: staff wheeling an unconscious woman with snow-white hair on a gurney while a distraught son argued about payment. Lucy glanced over, her eyes wide with fear.

“Dad… are they like me?” she whispered.

Elias nodded grimly. “Yeah. Stuck in the same nightmare.”

They emerged onto the street, the cold wind biting at exposed skin. Overhead, another police drone swept a searchlight across deserted sidewalks. Lucy slumped against a brick wall, shivering.

Elias brushed her hair back. “You okay?”

She tried to nod but tears pooled in her eyes. “My body feels weird,” she whispered. “Everything… hurts.”

Before he could respond, a nurse in scrubs emerged from a side door, eyes darting nervously.

“Are you two the anomaly case?” she hissed. “They said you couldn’t pay.”

Elias stiffened. “Yes. We have nothing left.”

The nurse grimaced. “I… I’m sorry. Dr. Roach is only interested in money. Listen, there’s talk of a black-market ring for Chronos victims—some who can’t pay get lured elsewhere, never come back. Watch yourselves.” She glanced at Lucy with pity. “An ex-Project Chronos researcher might help—Sofia, I think. She was on the brink of reversing advanced aging. But she vanished. Some say she works underground now.”

She scribbled an address on a scrap of paper, handing it over. “Try that. No promises.”

Elias blinked. “Thank you.”

Lucy managed a wan smile. “Yeah… thank you.”

With a sad nod, the nurse slipped away. Elias stared at the note. One more lead, he thought. He lifted Lucy again, ignoring the burning in his arms.

“Let’s find somewhere to rest,” he murmured. “Then we’ll figure this out.”

They made their way through dim alleys while scanning drones hummed overhead. Eventually, they found a rundown motel that asked no questions. Elias paid the last of his cash. The room smelled of stale cigarettes, but it offered a bed.

Lucy stretched out, wincing as her newly elongated legs dangled slightly off the edge. “Dad, my knees ache,” she mumbled.

Elias sank beside her, guilt gnawing at him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “We’ll fix this. We have to.”

She nodded, tears brimming again. “My head’s still ten,” she said brokenly. “I don’t want this stupid body…”

Elias’s heart squeezed, but he just stroked her hair gently, wishing he had any real solution.

A while later, Lucy rose, mumbling about washing her face. She glanced at her worn-out backpack in the corner—where her plush turtle was nestled—but didn’t pick it up this time. She slipped into the cramped bathroom and flipped on the light. A stained sink beneath a dim mirror greeted her. Nervous, she stepped closer.

The reflection staring back seemed older than the day before. Her face bore faint shadows around the eyes, her hair lacking its usual softness. The hoodie clung to gentle curves in her hips and chest, changes that made her skin crawl with unfamiliarity.

She tried to calm herself by breathing slowly, but a dull cramp tightened her lower abdomen. Confusion rippled through her. Am I injured? Then she spotted the faint, reddish stain on her underwear’s seam. Her breath caught, fear mingling with denial. What’s happening to me?

She lowered her jeans slightly to inspect, heart pounding. That’s when she realized, with a sick jolt, that it was blood—her blood. For a moment, she froze, mind refusing to process. Then vague memories surfaced: older girls whispering about periods… puberty. She’d thought it was something distant, something that happened when you were older and prepared.

A shaky whisper: “No… not now. I’m just a kid.”

Her hand trembled as she dabbed away the blood with toilet paper, feeling a mix of panic and strange shame. She recalled half-listening to health pamphlets and conversation fragments but had never seriously imagined this day would come this soon. Tears gathered in her eyes.

“I’m not ready,” Lucy murmured, voice cracking. She felt betrayed by her own body.

For a few moments, she just stood there, breathing shakily, trying to understand how to handle the pain and the bleeding. The cramped bathroom felt too small, as if the walls were closing in. Finally, she rinsed her face with cool water, tears sliding silently down her cheeks. I have to tell Dad, she thought, heart twisting with embarrassment. He won’t know what to do, but… I need him.

She glanced at the door, wishing she had grabbed her plush turtle—something to hold and remind her she was still a child inside. But it lay outside, tucked away in her bag. With trembling resolve, she stepped out of the bathroom.

She emerged, cheeks damp, eyes puffy. Elias rose from the threadbare chair immediately, concern flooding his features.

“Lucy? You look pale—did something else happen?”

Lucy swallowed. “I… I think… I’m bleeding,” she admitted, voice trembling. “Not from a cut. It’s… I don’t understand.”

Elias’s face fell. “Bleeding? How—” His eyes darted to her waist. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, tears threatening again. “It’s… I think it’s what older girls get. Periods?”

For a second, Elias’s expression flickered between confusion, embarrassment, and empathy. He placed his hands gently on her shoulders, voice unsteady but kind.

“Oh… Lucy,” he murmured. “I—I’m sorry. You… you’re so young…”

She let out a choked sob, pressing her forehead to his chest. “I’m only ten. This isn’t fair!” Her hands clenched his jacket, tears soaking the worn fabric.

Elias closed his eyes, feeling a wave of awkward protectiveness. He’d never imagined having this conversation with Lucy at ten, especially not in a dingy motel under dire circumstances. But he forced himself to speak calmly.

“I’ll… we’ll figure out what you need. Maybe there’s a convenience store nearby or something. We’ll get… supplies.” He faltered, cheeks burning slightly. “I know this must be overwhelming.”

Lucy sniffled. “It hurts a little. And I’m so confused. I feel like my body’s lying to me.”

He wrapped his arms around her more tightly. “We’ll handle it. One thing at a time, okay? We’ll get you what you need. Just… stay strong, Lucy.”

Though tears still glistened in her eyes, she nodded, relieved that she didn’t have to face it alone. At least Dad’s here… She briefly thought of retrieving her plush turtle from her bag—some comforting reminder of the girl she still was inside. But she stayed put, letting Elias hold her as she fought back waves of fear and discomfort.

Night passed fitfully. Between Lucy’s pain and Elias’s worry, neither slept well. By dawn, he managed to find a stale pastry in a hallway vending machine—breakfast, of sorts. Lucy forced down a few bites, still hurting from her body’s changes.

“We’ll leave soon,” Elias said softly. “We have an address. Sofia might be able to help. Maybe she can stop this aging.”

Lucy just nodded, hugging her hoodie around herself. The memory of the plush turtle flickered in her mind, but she was too drained to move. She had no choice but to trust Dad.

They slipped out under a drizzly, gray sky. Street scanners blinked overhead, occasionally blaring warnings for “unauthorized anomalies.” Elias hailed a shabby taxi driver who eyed Lucy’s adolescent form skeptically but took their fare without question.

They arrived in a half-abandoned district. Rusted barricades and metal shutters lined the roads. A battered sign overhead read “Restricted Zone – Chronos Level Clearance Required,” but no guards seemed present. Elias helped Lucy from the cab, ignoring the driver’s warning about the area’s lawlessness.

He held up the scrap of paper: “It’s supposed to be here.”

They found a rusted side door, the faint hum of another scanning drone above them. Inside, a narrow corridor reeking of antiseptic greeted them. A tired-looking man in stained scrubs glanced up.

“We’re closed,” he muttered. “No new patients.”

Elias brandished the note. “We have a referral. Someone said Sofia might be able to help my daughter.”

The man eyed Lucy’s trembling form, then sighed. “Wait here.” He disappeared into a back room.

Fear coiled in Elias’s stomach. If this failed, they had no Plan B. Lucy gripped his hand, silent but terrified. She wished she’d brought her turtle in with her—some small comfort in a place that felt so sterile and cold.

Footsteps announced a woman’s arrival. She wore a threadbare sweater rather than a lab coat, hair in a tight bun, eyes dark with fatigue.

Her voice was measured: “I’m Dr. Vera. Sofia isn’t here, but I know how to reach her.”

Elias’s heart thudded. Lucy leaned against him in relief, although her face was still weary.

“Please,” Elias said, voice raw. “My daughter—she’s aging rapidly. We heard Sofia might reverse these anomalies.”

Dr. Vera nodded slowly. “Word travels fast. A ten-year-old who now looks sixteen—must be you.” She knelt briefly, meeting Lucy’s gaze. “Sofia was close to breakthroughs on advanced aging. But she’s a fugitive. Chronos wants her silenced.”

Elias swallowed. “I’ll risk anything.”

Dr. Vera retrieved a battered comm device and a slip of coded paper. “Call after midnight. Ask for ‘Aurora.’ They’ll direct you to Sofia’s safehouse. People vanish hunting her, so be sure. Chronos doesn’t like competition.”

A quiet beat passed. Lucy fiddled with the hem of her hoodie, anxiety and hope mingling in her eyes.

“Thank you,” Elias said. “We’ll do whatever it takes.”

Dr. Vera’s eyes flicked to Lucy, softening. “I wish you luck. The System won’t help you. But maybe Sofia will.”

Outside, morning light washed over the empty street. Elias gripped the coded number like a lifeline, Lucy leaning into him with exhaustion etched on her face. They’d been rejected, exploited, nearly dragged into a black market. But now, they had one final hope.

Lucy exhaled shakily: “Dad… maybe Sofia can really fix this.”

Elias wrapped an arm around her, guiding her down the deserted sidewalk. “I hope so, kiddo. We’ll make that call tonight. No matter what it takes.”

Above them, a police drone swept a blue search beam across the cracked pavement. They sidestepped it, Elias’s jaw tightening. If the entire corrupt system stands in our way, he vowed, I’ll bring it down to save my daughter.