The Healer’s Code

Chapter 2 – The Man in the Mirror

The city never really slept, just blinked slow and dreamt in neon. By the time David got home, dawn was bleeding through the blinds, slicing his apartment into stripes of gray and red.

He dropped the bloodstained jacket on the floor and stared at the sink. His reflection looked like a ghost that had been caught lying.

“Okay,” he muttered. “Let’s review. Got fired. Saw a guy die. Brought him back using… what? Wi-Fi healing?”

He splashed water on his face. It didn’t help. His hands were still trembling, faintly warm at the palms like they remembered something his brain didn’t.

Then, movement. In the mirror. For half a heartbeat, the reflection didn’t move with him. David blinked.

“Nope. No. Absolutely not.” He rubbed his eyes, looked again, normal. Just exhaustion and paranoia having a party. He turned toward the bedroom— Bang!

A gunshot shattered his window. Glass exploded across the room. David hit the floor instinctively.

Two more shots followed, silenced but sharp. Holes punched through the drywall inches above his head. “Seriously?” he gasped, crawling behind the couch. “Who shoots at a guy with student debt?”

A black-clad figure climbed through the window, mask glistening with rain. The intruder moved like muscle memory and metal mixed, no hesitation, no sound.

David’s heart hammered. He grabbed the first thing near his hand, a broken lamp. “Hey! I’m not a fan of uninvited guests!”

The man lunged. David swung. Metal met skull with a dull crack, but the attacker barely flinched. He slammed David against the wall, forearm pressing into his throat. “Where’s the healer?” the man hissed through the mask.

David coughed. “Try the hospital. They love me there.”

The man’s grip tightened. “You revived a target of The Black Vein. Where is he?”

That name, Black Vein. Elias had said it in the diner. The words made David’s pulse spike. “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” David choked.

“Liar.”

Pain flared as the man’s free hand twisted David’s wrist, forcing him down. Something inside him snapped, not bone, but instinct.

A pulse of heat shot through David’s arm. The intruder jerked, convulsing, eyes wide behind the mask. Sparks, actual sparks, danced across his gloves.

David shoved him away. The man hit the wall, twitching, then went still. For a second, the room was silent except for rain dripping through the shattered window.

David stared at his shaking hands, faint traces of light flickering under the skin. “What… what are you?” he whispered.

Then his phone buzzed. Unknown number. He hesitated, then answered. “Hello?”

“Glad to hear you’re still alive.” Elias Morrow’s voice. Calm. Almost amused.

David exhaled shakily. “You could’ve warned me about the break-in!”

“I said they’d come looking for you. You just underestimated how soon.”

David glanced at the unconscious attacker. “Who the hell are they?”

“The Black Vein. A syndicate of scientists and soldiers who believe pain is the fastest path to evolution. And you, my boy, are living proof.”

“That’s, great. Fantastic. And I’m supposed to just accept that while dodging bullets in my pajamas?”

“You’re supposed to get out of there,” Elias said sharply. “Now. They’ll send another team once this one stops responding.”

David grabbed his phone and wallet. “Where?”

“The address I gave you. Warehouse district. You have ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes? It’s across the city!”

“Then you’d better run faster than you heal.” Click. The line went dead.

David stared at the phone, then at the unconscious man. “You know, I liked my life better when my biggest problem was unpaid rent.”

He shoved on his shoes, snatched the card with the caduceus symbol from his desk, and bolted out the door. The streets were slick and empty.

David sprinted through puddles, cutting through alleys that smelled of oil and rain. His chest burned, lungs screaming, but every time he thought he’d collapse, a strange current pushed him forward.

Halfway across the bridge, his phone buzzed again. A new number, this one flashing an address he didn’t recognize. Beneath it, a message: “You shouldn’t trust Morrow.”

He slowed, panting, the cold air stabbing his throat. “What the hell does that mean?”

Another message appeared. “Your father didn’t die because of The Black Vein. Morrow killed him.”

David stopped completely, rain soaking through his hair. His pulse hammered in his ears. A car engine roared behind him. Headlights flared, too close, too fast.

He dove aside as a black SUV screeched across the bridge, barely missing him. Doors flew open. More masked men spilled out, weapons drawn. David ran.

Bullets bit into the asphalt behind him, sparking like angry bees. He vaulted a railing, crashed into an alley, slipped on the wet concrete, and kept moving.

He ducked behind a dumpster, breath ragged, heart wild. His phone buzzed again. Elias’s number. He hesitated, then answered. “If you’re lying to me, I swear”

“Shut up and listen!” Elias’s voice was urgent now, no calm left. “They’re tracking you through the wound you healed. The Qi imprint is like a beacon.”

“What do I do?”

“You’ll have to short it out manually. Focus on the pulse in your palms, find the resonance, and”

“Elias, I’m not a damn radio!”

“Do it or you’ll be dead in sixty seconds.”

David closed his eyes, trying to block out the echo of boots in the distance. He focused, breathing through the panic. There, a faint hum in his hands. A thread of heat beneath his skin.

He pressed his palms together. The warmth built, rising to pain. His vision blurred. Every nerve screamed. Then, silence. The air felt… different. Lighter. The hum was gone. “Good,” Elias said. “Now move.”

David stumbled to his feet. “You better not be playing me, old man.”

“I don’t play games with lives, Foreman. Especially not the son of Michael.”

David froze mid-step. “You just said my father’s name.”

“Yes.”

“How do I know you didn’t kill him?”

Elias didn’t answer immediately. Then, softly: “Because if I had, you wouldn’t still be breathing.”

Click. The call ended again. David looked around. The alley was empty, until a faint reflection caught his eye. A security mirror, cracked and rain-streaked, hanging above a doorway.

His reflection stared back at him, except it smiled. David’s blood turned to ice. He wasn’t smiling. The reflection lifted its hand and wrote three words in the fogged glass: “WE ARE AWAKE.”

The mirror shattered. David stumbled backward, shards raining down like ice. His phone buzzed one last time. One new message. No sender. “Welcome to the second life, David Foreman.”