Magnificent Magnus Mace

Fear Not, I Am Here

The doors of the emergency room burst open, striking the walls with a violent crash.

"Severe myocardial infarction," the lead paramedic shouted, sprinting alongside the rolling gurney. "Her blood pressure is plummeting, and we are losing the pulse."

Magnus stood near the nurses station, and his instincts immediately took over. He hated seeing people suffer. The fear on a dying patient's face always triggered a deep need within him to help. He dropped his medical chart onto the desk and ran toward the incoming stretcher.

He looked down and saw an elderly woman struggling to breathe. Her skin held a terrible gray pallor, and her hands clutched her chest in agony.

"Mother, please stay with me," a sharp voice echoed down the corridor.

Kennedy Wade ran right behind the paramedics. She wore a tailored crimson suit, and her expensive heels clicked rapidly against the tile floor. Everyone in the city knew Kennedy Wade. She was a ruthless politician who controlled the city council, and she owned several highly successful commercial businesses. The dying woman on the stretcher was Kayla Wade, the matriarch of the powerful family.

"Start a central line," Magnus ordered the nurses, reaching for the edge of the gurney to help steer it toward the trauma theater. "We need to bypass the peripheral veins before they collapse entirely."

A hand slammed hard against his chest, shoving him backward.

Dr. Steven stepped directly into his path, blocking him from the patient. The head doctor glared at Magnus with absolute fury.

"Get away from her," Steven hissed, keeping his voice low to avoid alerting the politician. "You are not touching this patient, Magnus."

"She is going into cardiac arrest," Magnus argued, trying to step around the older man. "Her vascular system is shutting down, and she needs immediate stabilization."

"She is Kayla Wade," Steven pointed a rigid finger at Magnus's face. "Her daughter practically runs City Hall. We cannot put the life of a high profile patient in the hands of a low life doctor who just lost his backing."

"Disease does not care about political profiles," Magnus said firmly. "Get out of my way before you kill her."

"You are a basement doctor," Steven sneered, pushing Magnus again. "You will not embarrass this hospital in front of Kennedy Wade. Go downstairs and fold laundry."

Dr. Roberts walked out of the scrub room, sliding his surgical gloves over his hands. He looked at Magnus and smiled a bright, arrogant smile.

"I will take it from here, Steven," Roberts announced loudly, ensuring Kennedy could hear his confident tone. "We have the best trauma team ready. We will save your mother, Councilwoman Wade."

Kennedy stopped pacing and grabbed Roberts by the arm.

"Do whatever it takes," Kennedy pleaded, her voice trembling with panic. "Name your price, doctor. Just keep my mother alive."

"You have my word," Roberts promised smoothly.

Roberts turned toward the trauma theater. He looked over his shoulder, caught Magnus's eye, and gave him a slow, mocking wink. He pushed through the swinging doors and left Magnus standing in the hallway.

"Go to the basement, Magnus," Steven ordered, crossing his arms over his chest. "Your presence here is a liability."

Magnus ignored the head doctor entirely. He walked over to the large glass window that overlooked the surgical theater. He watched Roberts step up to the operating table, bark orders to the nurses, and begin the standard resuscitation protocol.

The minutes dragged on like hours. Kennedy paced back and forth behind Magnus, muttering quiet prayers. Steven stood nearby, rubbing his hands together in nervous anticipation.

Inside the room, Roberts pushed a dose of chemical stimulants into Kayla's intravenous line. He applied the defibrillator paddles, shouting clear, and shocked her chest.

The flat line on the monitor suddenly jumped. A steady, rhythmic beep filled the surgical room. The green lines bounced across the screen in a perfect, healthy pattern. Kayla drew a deep breath, and the gray color slowly faded from her face.

The nurses clapped, and Roberts let out a loud sigh of relief. He stripped his gloves off and tossed them into the waste bin. He puffed his chest out and walked out of the theater, stepping into the hallway like a conquering hero.

"She is stable," Roberts announced, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. "Her heart rate is completely normal. The crisis has passed."

Kennedy gasped, covering her mouth with both hands. Tears of pure relief spilled down her cheeks.

"Thank you," Kennedy cried, reaching out to shake his hand vigorously. "You are a miracle worker, Dr. Roberts. You saved my family today."

"It was a complicated procedure," Roberts said smoothly, soaking in the praise. "But I have extensive experience with these severe cardiac events. It is just another day at City General Hospital."

"I will never forget this," Kennedy promised, her eyes shining with gratitude. "My political campaign fund needs a medical advisor. I want you on my board, Roberts. I will ensure you get the funding and the influence you deserve."

"That is very generous, Councilwoman," Roberts smiled greedily. "I am always happy to serve the city leadership."

Roberts turned his head and looked at Magnus standing by the glass window. The senior surgeon walked over, dripping with arrogance and newfound power.

"Did you take notes, basement doctor?" Roberts laughed, tapping the glass with his knuckles. "That is how real medicine is done. You apply the standard protocol, you shock the system, and you secure the wealthy donors. You could learn a lot from me if you ever manage to crawl out of the basement."

"You made a mistake," Magnus said quietly, his eyes fixed on the patient sleeping on the table.

"Excuse me?" Roberts scoffed, his smile faltering for a brief second.

"You pushed the standard adult dose of chemical vasodilators," Magnus explained, his voice cold and analytical. "You forced her heart to pump at maximum capacity to clear the blockage."

"That is exactly what the medical textbook says to do," Roberts argued defensively.

"Kayla Wade is eighty years old," Magnus turned his head, staring directly into Roberts's eyes. "Her vascular walls are brittle. You treated her like a healthy thirty year old athlete. You forced chemical pressure into fragile, aged veins."

"She is perfectly stable," Roberts waved his hand dismissively. "The monitor proves my treatment worked. You are just jealous because I secured Kennedy Wade's political backing."

A sharp, piercing alarm shattered the calm atmosphere of the hallway.

Everyone froze. Magnus turned back to the glass window.

The green lines on the medical monitor inside the theater were erratic. They spiked violently up and down before crashing toward the bottom of the screen. Kayla began to seize on the operating table, her body arching upward in pain.

"Doctor Roberts," a nurse screamed from inside the room. "Her blood pressure is dropping exponentially. Her veins are rupturing from the chemical pressure."

Roberts stood frozen in the hallway, his face draining of all color. His mouth opened, but no words came out. The arrogance vanished, replaced by absolute, blinding terror.

"Do something," Kennedy screamed, grabbing Roberts by the collar of his coat. "You said she was stable. Go in there and fix her."

"I do not understand," Roberts stammered, stepping backward away from the glass. "The protocol was correct. The textbook says the protocol is flawless."

"Get back in there," Steven shouted at Roberts, his own face pale with dread. "If she dies on our table, this hospital is ruined."

Roberts shook his head wildly, paralyzed by his own incompetence. He knew he had made a fatal error, and he had absolutely no idea how to reverse it.

Magnus felt a sudden, terrifying chill wash over his body.

He looked at Kayla seizing on the table, but he did not see the elderly politician. He saw his grandfather lying in the master bedroom of the Mace estate, choking on his own blood while arrogant doctors stood around looking confused. He remembered the overwhelming helplessness of watching a loved one slip away due to medical incompetence.

The trauma of that memory ignited a fierce fire in his chest. He would never let another person die because a fool followed a textbook blindly.

Magnus sprinted toward the surgical theater doors.

"Stop right there," Steven yelled, stepping forward to block the entrance again. "You are suspended, Magnus. Do not go in there."

Magnus did not stop. He lowered his shoulder and slammed his body directly into Steven. The impact sent the head doctor crashing into the hallway wall. Steven crumpled to the floor, gasping for air.

"Stay out of my way," Magnus growled, kicking the swinging doors open.

He rushed to the operating table, grabbing a pair of sterile gloves from the tray. He snapped them onto his hands and immediately assessed the screaming monitors.

"Silence those alarms," Magnus ordered the panicked nurses. "We have just two minutes before her heart wall tears completely open."