Third person's POV
"Alban, I didn't expect forty years to fly by like that. You're still the same as ever. I did say you wouldn't grow taller, didn't I?"
Alma remarked with a smile. Alban's face flushed at her words.
It had been decades since he was brought here by his mentor after being poisoned.
Back then, he was just a teenager, and Alma, in her early forties, was in her prime, looking much younger than her age.
Known for her straightforward nature, she had teased him about his height after treating him. Alban had dutifully drunk milk and played basketball in an effort to grow taller, but his height eventually plateaued at around 5'7", making him appear shorter than his younger counterparts like Alvin.
"Mrs. Atkinson, you're still the same as ever. It's wonderful to see you again. Could you please help my friend? He's been poisoned with the Nine-Heart Wolfsbane," Alban pleaded.
Alma sighed, "You've put me in a difficult spot. The Nine-Heart Wolfsbane is a deadly toxin synthesized from nine different poisons. If even one component is wrong in the antidote, it could turn into a poison and hasten his death."
Kamp quickly presented the analysis report and said, "Mrs. Atkinson, we've already identified the components. Please take a look and let us know what antidote is needed. We'll go and find it right away."
"Very well, bring him in first so I can take a look," Alma replied.
The group hurriedly carried Derek into a small wooden hut.
"Remove his clothes so I can see the extent of the poisoning," she instructed.
As Alvin and Rolf helped remove Derek's protective suit, Alban rolled up his sleeves and unbuttoned Derek's shirt.
The red veins had already spread to Derek's abdomen and shoulders, inching closer to his heart.
He had only one day left.
"Time is running out," Alma remarked.
"Yes, it took us a day just to get here. Mrs. Atkinson, this young man is very important to me. If you can save him, we'll agree to any conditions," Alban said earnestly.
Alma gently lifted Derek's gas mask, revealing his handsome face, now etched with lines of pain.
Seeing his face, she paused for a moment, "He..."
Noticing the change in Alma's expression, Misha quickly asked, "Do you know him, Mrs. Atkinson?"
Alma looked back and forth between Misha and Derek. "What's going on with you two?"
Before Alvin or the others could respond, Misha blurted out, "I'm his fiancée. Please, you have to save him! He means everything to me. I can't lose him. If you need blood, take mine—we have the same blood type."
Alvin and the others frowned, thinking her impulsive response was inappropriate.
But with Derek's life hanging in the balance, there was no time for such considerations.
"Do you truly love him?" Alma continued.
Alban shifted uneasily. Something felt off—Alma's face had that pinched look ever since she saw Derek.
"Yes, I've loved him for many years. I would do anything, even sacrifice myself, to save him," Misha replied with conviction.
"What a tragic couple," Alma murmured, her tone tinged with strangeness.
"Unfortunately, I'm just an old woman with limited power. I can't save him. You'll have to seek help elsewhere," she said, waving her hand to signal them to leave.
The little girl stood by, gazing at Derek's face for a long moment before tugging on Alma's sleeve, as if pleading for mercy.
Alma took the girl's hand and gently soothed her, "Hedwig, this person is beyond our help. Let's see them out."
Derek seemed to sense something and forced his eyes open.
His vision, blurred by the virus, could only vaguely make out an old woman and a little girl. The girl looked back at him, but he couldn't discern her features.
Alban hurriedly chased after them, feeling the sudden shift in Alma's attitude was off.
"Mrs. Atkinson, I beg you, save him. He can't die!"
"Alban, it's not that I won't help you. You know medicine. You should understand how deadly that wolfsbane is. Given how much he's already been poisoned, what can I do?" Alma replied.
"Mrs. Atkinson, I know you must have a way. There's still a day left. Please, at least try," Alban pleaded.
"Try? I can't afford to take that risk. What if I fail to save him? How could I bear the consequences? Now, our village doesn't welcome outsiders. Leave immediately," Alma said coldly, shutting the door with a slam that nearly clipped Alban's nose.
So it wasn't his imagination. Alma was pissed.
But why?
At first, she agreed to help. Her attitude changed too weird.
Alvin quickly asked, "Dr. Weaver, what happened?"
"Mrs. Atkinson refuses to help," Alban replied.
"How could this be? Didn't she say she'd try? Why refuse without even attempting?" Alvin questioned.
"I'm just as puzzled," Alban said.
"I'll go talk to her," Misha declared, rushing out and kneeling at Alma's door.
"Mrs. Atkinson, I beg you to save my fiancé. I truly love him. We've come so far together, and I can't lose him. If you won't help him, I'll stay here forever..."