Chapter 20 Tony #2
"We're just waiting for Kian to start," Shira said as she returned to his bedside and took his hand.
Tony didn't know what to say. What had he done to deserve the honor of having Kian present at what was essentially a performative ceremony—a ritual that didn't really prove anything they didn't already know.
His transition was a given. His immortality was a biological fact.
The healing test was just a formality, a tradition, a way to mark the occasion and welcome a new member into the community.
But Kian had taken time out of his undoubtedly busy schedule to welcome Tony personally.
"I'm touched," he managed. "I didn't expect such a turnout."
The murmur of voices fell silent when Kian arrived.
"Sorry I'm late," the big boss said as he moved to stand at the foot of Tony's bed. "I see we have a full house."
"Standing room only," Yamanu confirmed. "I've got the camera ready."
"Good." Kian turned his attention to Tony, and for a moment, their eyes met. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I've been hit by a bus," Tony admitted. "But also like I could run a marathon. It's a strange combination."
Kian smiled. "That's exactly how it should feel. The exhaustion will pass. The energy won't." He stepped back, making room for Julian, who had appeared at the doorway with a surgical tray in his hands.
"Let's make it official, shall we?" Julian said.
On the tray sat a tiny surgical knife, barely more than a scalpel, and a few squares of sterile gauze. Nothing dramatic. Nothing frightening. Just the basic tools required to make a small cut and watch it heal.
"Everyone ready?" Julian asked.
A chorus of affirmations came from the waiting room. Shira squeezed Tony's hand, her grip warm and reassuring. Tula held up a stopwatch, her finger poised over the button. Yamanu adjusted the angle of his phone to capture the best shot.
"Let's do this." Tony extended his hand to Julian.
The doctor smiled. "Brave of you."
"Not really. I'm just eager to find out how fast I heal."
Julian took Tony's right hand and turned it palm up. "This will sting, but only for a moment."
Tony took a breath. Held it.
The knife moved faster than his eyes could follow—a flash of silver, a bright line of pain, and then it was over.
Julian's voice rang out clearly: "Now."
Tula clicked the stopwatch.
Blood welled up from the cut, a thin red line bisecting Tony's palm. Julian dabbed it away with the gauze, revealing the wound beneath, which was deeper than Tony had expected, deep enough that he could see the layers of tissue beneath the skin.
And then, as he watched, the wound began to close.
It was the strangest sensation he'd ever experienced.
Not painful, but rather a tingling and pulling as his cells rushed to repair the damage.
The edges of the cut drew together like a zipper being fastened, the raw flesh knitting itself whole, and the skin smoothing over as if the injury had never existed. All right before his eyes.
"That's incredible," Tony breathed.
"Keep watching," Julian said.
The last traces of the wound faded away, leaving only a faint pink line that, even as Tony watched, was returning to his natural skin tone. In a few more seconds, there was nothing left—no scar, no mark, no evidence that he had ever been cut at all.
"Time," Julian called.
Tula clicked the stopwatch and looked at the display. "Sixty-eight seconds."
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Tony had no idea if that was good or bad, fast or slow, impressive or merely adequate.
"Congratulations," Julian said formally. "Welcome to immortality."
The waiting room erupted. Cheers and hoots and applause filled the space, bouncing off the walls and washing over Tony like a wave of warmth. People took turns entering his room and clapping him on the shoulder, shaking his hand, and offering congratulations and good wishes.
Shira leaned over and kissed him, soft and sweet, and the crowd whooped their approval.
"Was that considered fast?" Tony asked when the noise died down enough for him to be heard.
"It was pretty fast," Julian confirmed.
"That doesn't tell me much. Where do I rank? Top ten percent? Top five? What's the record?"
Kaia laughed and pushed her way into the room. "You're too competitive for your own good, Tony. It took me much longer than that to heal, but I didn't lose consciousness during my transition, so there is that."
"So, it's not an exact science?"
"Nothing about any of this is exact." Kaia patted his arm. "You're immortal now. That's what matters. Whether you heal in sixty seconds or six minutes, you'll still be here in a thousand years."
A thousand years. The concept was too vast to comprehend, so Tony filed it away for later contemplation. Right now, he just wanted to bask in the warmth of the moment, the joy of the occasion, the simple pleasure of being surrounded by people who cared about him.
When Tula approached, the crowd parted to let her through, and he was surprised to see tears shining in her blue eyes.
She bent to kiss his cheek. "I'm so glad," she said with a voice that was just a little breathy, a little shaky. "I'm so glad that you'll be there for our son. For the duration."
For the duration. For eternity. For all the years their child would live, Tony would be there too. Not as Tula's partner, but as their son’s father nonetheless.
It wasn't the future Tony had imagined. But looking at Tula now, at the tears in her eyes and the hope in her smile, he realized that it was enough, that they would make it work because they were all invested in providing the best possible future for their son.
Tula squeezed his hand, and for a moment, it felt like old times. Like they were still partners. Like they were still in love.
Then Esag appeared beside her, lifting his hand to rest on the small of her back, and the moment shattered.
"Congratulations," Esag said. His voice was warm, his smile genuine. There was no jealousy in his expression, no possessiveness. Just honest happiness for Tony's transformation. "Welcome to the clan."
"Thank you," he said, reaching for Shira's hand and drawing her close.
She came willingly, fitting herself against him with the easy familiarity of someone who belonged there.
Maybe he wasn't in love with her yet. Maybe the shadow of Tula still loomed too large, blocking out the light. But Shira was there, warm and real and present, and she had chosen him.