#Medical Device Prototypes

[aprios]

How Carbon DLS Technology Is Revolutionising Medical Device Development Through Advanced 3D Printing?

The medical device industry stands at the precipice of a technological revolution. As healthcare demands grow more complex and personalised, traditional manufacturing methods struggle to keep pace with the need for precision, speed, and customisation. Enter Carbon Digital Light Synthesis (DLS) technology—a groundbreaking advancement transforming how medical professionals approach device development and patient care.

The Evolution of Medical Device Manufacturing

Medical device development has traditionally been a lengthy, expensive process fraught with regulatory hurdles and manufacturing constraints. Conventional prototyping methods often required weeks or months to produce functional models, creating bottlenecks that delayed life-saving innovations from reaching patients who needed them most.

3D 3D-printed prototypes have emerged as a game-changer in this landscape, offering unprecedented speed and flexibility in medical device creation. Unlike traditional subtractive manufacturing, additive manufacturing enables the creation of complex geometries that were previously impossible or prohibitively expensive to produce.

The healthcare sector's adoption of three-dimensional printing technology has accelerated dramatically, with applications ranging from surgical planning models to custom prosthetics. However, not all printing technologies are created equal, and the medical field demands the highest standards of precision, biocompatibility, and mechanical properties.

Understanding Carbon DLS Technology

Carbon's Digital Light Synthesis represents a paradigm shift in additive manufacturing. This innovative process combines light, oxygen, and programmable chemistry to produce parts with exceptional surface finish, mechanical properties, and dimensional accuracy that rival traditional manufacturing methods.

The Carbon DLS Prototyping process utilises a unique approach called Continuous Liquid Interface Production (CLIP). This method eliminates the layer-by-layer printing that characterises traditional 3D printing, instead growing objects continuously from a pool of liquid resin. The result is parts with isotropic properties and smooth surface finishes that require minimal post-processing.

What sets Carbon DLS apart is its ability to produce functional prototypes that closely match the performance characteristics of final production parts. This capability is crucial in medical applications where prototype testing must accurately predict real-world performance.

Transforming Medical Device Prototypes

Medical Device Prototypes created through Carbon DLS technology offer several distinct advantages over conventional manufacturing methods:

Enhanced Precision and Accuracy

The precision achievable with Carbon DLS technology enables the creation of intricate medical components with tolerances as tight as ±0.1mm. This level of accuracy is essential for devices that must interface with human anatomy or integrate with existing medical equipment.

Superior Material Properties

Carbon's proprietary resins are engineered to deliver mechanical properties that often exceed those of traditionally manufactured parts. These materials can withstand sterilisation processes, demonstrate excellent biocompatibility, and provide the durability required for medical applications.

Accelerated Development Cycles

Traditional prototyping might take weeks to produce a single iteration. Carbon DLS can produce functional prototypes in days or hours, dramatically accelerating the design-test-iterate cycle crucial for medical device development.

The Power of Rapid Prototyping Services

Rapid Prototyping Services powered by Carbon DLS technology are transforming how medical companies approach product development. These services offer several key benefits:

Speed to Market

Time to market in the medical device industry can mean the difference between life and death. Rapid prototyping services enable companies to move from concept to clinical testing in a fraction of the time required by traditional methods.

Cost-Effective Iteration

The ability to quickly and affordably produce multiple design iterations allows engineers to explore more design possibilities and optimise performance before committing to expensive tooling and production setup.

Risk Mitigation

Early-stage physical prototypes help identify potential issues before they become costly problems in later development phases. This proactive approach reduces the risk of expensive design changes or regulatory delays.

Design for Additive Manufacturing (DfAM) in Medical Applications

Design for Additive Manufacturing (DfAM) principles are compelling when applied to medical device development. This approach involves designing parts specifically to leverage the unique capabilities of additive manufacturing rather than simply adapting existing designs.

Optimized Geometries

DfAM enables the creation of complex internal structures, such as lattice frameworks or conformal cooling channels, that would be impossible to manufacture using traditional methods. These optimised geometries can improve device performance while reducing material usage and weight.

Integrated Functionality

Traditional manufacturing often requires assembling multiple components to achieve the desired functionality. DfAM allows for the integration of various functions into a single printed part, reducing assembly complexity and potential failure points.

Customisation at Scale

Medical devices often require customisation for individual patients. DfAM makes it economically feasible to produce customised devices without expensive custom tooling.

Real-World Applications and Success Stories

The impact of Carbon DLS technology in medical device development extends across numerous applications:

Surgical Instruments

Precision surgical instruments benefit from the exceptional surface finish and mechanical properties achievable with Carbon DLS. These instruments can be designed with ergonomic features and optimised geometries that improve surgeon comfort and patient outcomes.

Prosthetic Components

Custom prosthetic devices require the perfect balance of strength, weight, and comfort. Carbon DLS technology enables the creation of prosthetic components that are both functional and aesthetically pleasing, improving the patient's quality of life.

Diagnostic Equipment

Medical diagnostic equipment often requires precise optical and mechanical components. The dimensional accuracy and surface quality of Carbon DLS parts make them ideal for these demanding applications.

The Aprios Advantage in Medical Prototyping

At Aprios, we've witnessed firsthand how Carbon DLS technology transforms medical device development. Our expertise in advanced manufacturing processes enables us to help medical device companies leverage these capabilities to accelerate innovation and improve patient outcomes.

Our team understands the unique challenges facing medical device manufacturers, from stringent regulatory requirements to the need for biocompatible materials. We work closely with clients to optimise their designs for Carbon DLS production, ensuring that prototypes meet performance requirements and provide valuable insights for future development.

Overcoming Traditional Manufacturing Limitations

Traditional manufacturing methods impose significant constraints on medical device design. Injection moulding requires expensive tooling, CNC machining can't create complex internal geometries, and conventional prototyping methods often can't produce parts with the necessary material properties.

Carbon DLS technology eliminates many of these constraints, enabling designers to focus on optimising device performance rather than working around manufacturing limitations. This freedom leads to more innovative designs and ultimately better patient outcomes.

Future Implications and Industry Trends

The adoption of Carbon DLS technology in medical device development represents more than just a manufacturing upgrade—it's a fundamental shift toward more personalised, efficient healthcare solutions. As the technology matures, we can expect to see even more sophisticated applications and improved material properties.

Integrating artificial intelligence and machine learning with Carbon DLS technology promises to further optimise the design and production process, potentially enabling real-time device performance optimisation based on patient-specific data.

Quality Assurance and Regulatory Considerations

Medical device manufacturers must navigate complex regulatory landscapes while maintaining the highest quality standards. Carbon DLS technology supports these requirements through consistent, repeatable production processes and comprehensive quality control measures.

The technology's ability to produce parts with consistent mechanical properties and dimensional accuracy helps manufacturers meet FDA and other regulatory requirements more efficiently than traditional prototyping methods.

Conclusion: The Future of Medical Device Innovation

Carbon DLS technology represents a transformative force in medical device development, offering unprecedented precision, speed, and design flexibility capabilities. As healthcare continues to evolve toward more personalised, efficient solutions, the role of advanced manufacturing technologies like Carbon DLS will only become more critical.

The combination of rapid prototyping capabilities, superior material properties, and design freedom enables medical device companies to innovate faster and more effectively than ever before. For companies looking to stay competitive in this rapidly evolving landscape, embracing Carbon DLS technology isn't just an option—it's necessary.

By partnering with experienced providers like Aprios, medical device manufacturers can leverage these advanced capabilities to accelerate their development timelines, reduce costs, and ultimately deliver better solutions to the patients who need them most. The future of medical device manufacturing is here, and the revolutionary capabilities of Carbon DLS technology are shaping it.

[mastergarryblogs]

How Israeli Tech is Shaping the Future of Additive Manufacturing Worldwide

Overview of Israel’s Strategic Position in Additive Manufacturing

Israel has rapidly emerged as a global force in additive manufacturing (AM), fortified by a powerful high-tech ecosystem, robust government support, and a legacy of innovation in defense, aerospace, and medical technologies. With the Israel additive manufacturing market valued at USD 221.4 billion in 2024 and forecasted to exceed USD 280.3 billion by 2032, the nation is positioned to lead transformative advances in 3D printing technologies. The Israel additive manufacturing market compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of approximately 7% reflects both escalating domestic demand and global interest in Israeli AM innovation.

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Driving Forces of Growth in Israel's Additive Manufacturing Market

Innovation Across Key Industrial Verticals

Israel additive manufacturing market sector is evolving as a backbone for modernization in:

Aerospace and Defense: Lightweight components, complex geometries, and high-performance materials enable operational efficiency and reduced lead times.

Healthcare: Customized prosthetics, implants, bioprinting, and surgical models offer patient-centric care and improved clinical outcomes.

Automotive and Industrial Manufacturing: Rapid prototyping, tooling, and small-batch production optimize supply chains and cut production timelines.

These sectors benefit from the convergence of additive technologies with AI, machine learning, and advanced robotics, all core competencies of Israel's high-tech sector.

Rising Demand for Customization and Sustainability

The shift toward sustainable manufacturing and personalized solutions is fueling AM adoption. Israeli startups and research institutions are developing biocompatible, recyclable, and multi-material printing solutions that meet stringent regulatory and industry-specific standards.

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Technological Landscape of the Israeli Additive Manufacturing Ecosystem

Polymer-Based Additive Manufacturing

Valued at USD 306.31 million in 2024, this segment dominates due to its cost-effectiveness, versatility, and compatibility with lightweight, complex part production. With an expected CAGR of 17.3%, applications in consumer goods, automotive interiors, and medical devices continue to surge.

Metal-Based Additive Manufacturing

Growing at a robust 20.1% CAGR, metal AM is the cornerstone of defense and aerospace advancements. In 2024, it accounted for USD 180.86 million, projected to exceed USD 775.48 million by 2032. Israel’s focus on titanium, aluminum alloys, and nickel-based superalloys supports structural applications with high thermal and mechanical stability.

Hybrid Additive Manufacturing

By blending subtractive and additive processes, hybrid AM enhances surface finish and dimensional accuracy, critical in precision tooling, aerospace, and dental prosthetics. This segment is rapidly gaining traction due to its versatility and integration into smart manufacturing systems.

Segmental Breakdown of the Israel Additive Manufacturing Market

By Component

Hardware: Represents the largest share, valued at USD 1,137.28 million in 2024, supporting high-throughput production and industrial-scale fabrication.

Software: Fueled by AI-powered design, generative modeling, and process simulation, this segment is experiencing 19.9% CAGR, revolutionizing digital twin applications and real-time process monitoring.

Services: The on-demand printing ecosystem is expanding, empowering SMEs to access advanced AM capabilities with minimal capital expenditure.

By Deployment Model

In-House Manufacturing: With a Israel additive manufacturing market valuation of USD 317.09 million in 2024, large enterprises prefer internal AM operations for confidentiality and operational control.

Service-Based Models: Growing at 19.4% CAGR, third-party service bureaus are crucial in democratizing access to advanced AM technologies for startups and research institutions.

By Functionality

Prototyping: Dominates with USD 340.60 million in 2024, essential for R&D, iterative design, and proof-of-concept validation.

Production: The rising shift to end-use part manufacturing is catalyzing growth in this segment, valued at USD 197.73 million in 2024.

Tooling: Customized, high-durability tooling supports faster transitions from design to production across various industrial sectors.

By Printer Size

Small/Compact Printers: Most accessible and dominant segment, valued at USD 253.09 million in 2024, ideal for labs, healthcare, and educational institutions.

Medium and Large Printers: Increasingly adopted in industrial manufacturing, these enable batch production and larger component fabrication.

End-Use Industries Driving Adoption

Aerospace & Defense

USD 159.32 million in 2024, this sector prioritizes weight reduction, material performance, and supply chain agility. With Israel’s defense sector being R&D intensive, 3D printing significantly enhances manufacturing autonomy and mission-readiness.

Healthcare & Medical

USD 131.40 million in 2024, growing due to demand for patient-specific devices, bioprinted tissues, and anatomical models. With innovations in regenerative medicine, Israel is at the forefront of personalized healthcare.

Industrial & Automotive

Israel’s industrial ecosystem leverages AM for lightweighting, thermal management, and low-volume production, especially in EV components and robotics enclosures.

Strategic Movements and Competitive Intelligence

Leading Israel Additive Manufacturing Market Participants

Stratasys: A global pioneer, deeply rooted in Israel, with continuous development in multi-material, high-resolution systems.

XJet: Revolutionizing ceramic and metal printing with NanoParticle Jetting™ technology.

Nano Dimension: Innovator in multi-layer electronics and PCB printing, driving miniaturization and functional integration.

Recent Developments

XJet (June 2024): Launched new ceramic printers with applications in automotive and aerospace, enhancing resolution and mechanical strength.

Nano Dimension (Sept 2024): Acquired startups to advance multi-material electronics printing, expanding their capabilities in embedded sensor systems.

Challenges and Strategic Opportunities

Major Israel Additive Manufacturing Market Challenges

Capital Intensity: High upfront costs limit adoption, especially among SMEs.

Talent Gap: Scarcity of AM-trained professionals hampers rapid scaling.

Scaling Complexity: Transitioning from prototype to full production requires new QA methodologies and workflow optimization.

Strategic Israel Additive Manufacturing Market Opportunities

Workforce Development: Partnerships with universities and technical institutes to offer AM-centric curricula.

Material Innovation Hubs: Support from government and private sectors to develop high-strength composites, bioresorbable materials, and nanostructured alloys.

Sustainability Mandates: Incentives for closed-loop manufacturing systems, energy-efficient printers, and recyclable materials.

Future Outlook: Israel’s Role in Global Additive Manufacturing Leadership

Israel is poised to lead the next frontier of digital manufacturing, where data-driven fabrication, machine learning-enhanced design, and autonomous production lines define industry 4.0. With unmatched cross-sector collaboration between startups, research centers, and government agencies, the nation’s AM sector is evolving from rapid prototyping to full-fledged production infrastructure.

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Conclusion

Israel additive manufacturing market is entering a golden era, driven by its technological prowess, strategic policy initiatives, and vibrant innovation culture. As the global demand for agile, sustainable, and customized manufacturing solutions intensifies, Israel is uniquely equipped to lead the charge. Enterprises, investors, and policy makers must align to fully harness this momentum and establish Israel as a global additive manufacturing powerhouse.

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[gracytaylor]

Innovating Healthcare with Medical Product Design in UK

Revolutionizing healthcare starts with Medical Product Design in UK! From life-saving diagnostic tools to smart wearables, UK design consultancies are crafting cutting-edge medical devices that transform lives. These experts blend creativity, engineering, and strict ISO 13485 standards to ensure safety and innovation. Using 3D printing and AI simulations, they prototype fast, creating user-friendly, sustainable products for hospitals and homes. Whether it’s a startup’s first device or a global brand’s next breakthrough, Medical Product Design in UK delivers precision and impact. Know any cool UK-designed medical tech? Share your faves below! 🩺 #HealthTech #UKInnovation

[june-gdprototyping]

What Medical Parts Can Be CNC Machined

With the manufacturing development of technology, the precision and diversity requirements of medical equipment are increasing day by day. Computer numerical control (CNC) machining technology has become one of the key processes for manufacturing medical parts due to its high precision and good repeatability.

Every small part of medical devices is crucial, especially those implanted in the human body or used in critical diagnostic processes. These applications require parts to have extremely high precision and good biocompatibility, where CNC machining technology plays an irreplaceable role.

Application of CNC Machining in Medical Industry 1.High precision medical parts ①Implant Devices implanted in the human body, such as pacemakers, artificial joints (such as hip replacements and knee implants), and dental implants, require extremely high precision and biocompatibility. CNC machining centers can process complex geometric shapes based on detailed CNC programming and achieve extremely high tolerance control to ensure the consistency and specification accuracy of parts.

②Surgical tools Including scalpels, scissors, complex robotic arms, etc., these tools need to be manufactured with high precision to ensure the smooth progress of the surgical process and the safety of the patient. CNC machining centers are able to produce complex geometries and strict tolerances to meet the high precision requirements of surgical tools.

③Electronic medical equipment Certain components of magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) machines, such as structures, brackets, and housings, as well as housings for various medical diagnostic devices, are often CNC machined to ensure precise dimensions, durability, and compatibility with electronic components.

④Endoscope components Endoscopic Housings and Parts: CNC machining is used to produce components for endoscopic devices, including housings, connectors, and structural parts.

2.Personalized Medical Equipment ①Prosthetics and assistive devices The CNC machining center uses 3D scanning and CAD modeling technology to customize prostheses and assistive devices according to the patient's physical characteristics, ensuring the perfect fit and functionality of the equipment. This personalized customization improves patient comfort and treatment outcomes.

②Orthopedic implants Based on the patient's bone structure and needs, CNC machining centers can manufacture personalized orthopedic implants to achieve precise medical repairs.

③Prosthetics and orthotics CNC machining is used to manufacture custom components for prosthetics, including socket components, joints and connectors, as well as orthotic brace components that provide support and alignment for various parts of the body.

3.Medical device prototype Rapid prototyping is a critical component of the medical device development process. CNC machining centers can quickly convert digital designs into physical prototypes, allowing engineers to test and improve designs in a short period of time, thereby accelerating product development cycles.

Processing of Biocompatible Materials Material selection and use is a very important level in the manufacture of diagnostic and therapeutic parts. CNC machining centers can process a variety of materials, including plastics (such as production-grade plastics such as PEEK), metals (such as aluminum, titanium and stainless steel), ceramics and other biocompatible materials. It is particularly important that the selection of these materials needs to consider tolerances, ductility and tension requirements, as well as handling and sterilization requirements. And CNC machining can ensure that these materials maintain their performance and biocompatibility during the processing process.

Small Batch & Automated Production For medical equipment that needs to be produced in small batches, CNC machining centers can flexibly adjust production plans, reduce production costs, and improve production efficiency.

The integration of CNC machining centers with advanced technologies such as automation and artificial intelligence (AI) has realized the automation and intelligence of the production process. This reduces the variables and errors introduced by human operations and improves production efficiency and product quality.

When choosing a manufacturer to CNC machine medical parts, key factors to consider include the need for high precision and strict safety performance standards. The manufacturer should have the ability to handle difficult-to-machine materials and complex workpiece shapes, and be able to cope with the requirements of CNC low-volume production. The CNC machining shop should have advanced equipment and experienced engineers to ensure that the medical or dental project can be delivered on time and meet the design specifications.

In summary, CNC machining technology plays an increasingly important role in the medical parts industry due to its unique advantages, driving medical equipment towards higher precision, faster response and better adaptability. Its application in the medical industry is multifaceted, from high-precision surgical instruments to complex implants, all rely on CNC machining to achieve. With the development of technology and the improvement of quality requirements for medical equipment, CNC machining will continue to play an important role in the medical industry.

[arrowmps]

Challenges in Medical Device Prototype Development

While Medical Device Prototype is essential, it comes with its own set of challenges. One significant hurdle is the balance between innovation and regulatory compliance; designers must ensure that their prototypes not only push boundaries but also meet the necessary safety standards.

Budget constraints can also limit the scope of prototyping efforts, making it essential to prioritize features based on user needs and market demands. Additionally, managing feedback from multiple stakeholders can be complex, as differing perspectives may lead to conflicting design priorities. Despite these challenges, adopting a strategic approach to prototyping—such as utilizing lean methodologies—can help streamline the process and enhance the likelihood of successful outcomes in the medical device landscape.

Visit us for more information-

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[cara-miss]

Medical Device Prototype

Medical device prototype is created as early physical models of medical devices that aim to show how the product looks and operates.  It can allow designers and engineers to identify opportunities and risks in the early stages of the medical device design development phase. 

[reasonsforhope]

"Calling it “a fridge to bridge the world,” the Thermavault can use different combinations of salts to keep the contents at temperatures just above freezing or below it. Some vaccines require regular kitchen fridge temps, while others, or even transplant organs, need to be kept below freezing, meaning this versatility is a big advantage for the product’s overall market demand.

Dhruv Chaudhary, Mithran Ladhania, and Mridul Jain are all children of physicians or medical field workers in the [city] of Indore. Seeing how difficult it was to keep COVID-19 vaccines viable en route to countryside villages hours outside city centers in tropical heat, they wanted to create a better, portable solution to keeping medical supplies cool.

Because salt molecules dissolve in water, the charged ions that make up the salt molecules break apart. However, this separation requires energy, which is taken in the form of heat from the water, cooling it down.

Though the teen team knew this, it remained a challenge to find which kind of salt would have the optimal set of characteristics. Though sodium chloride—our refined table salt—is what we think of when we hear the word “salt,” there are well over one-hundred different chemical compounds that classify as salt.

“While we did scour through the entire internet to find the best salt possible, we kind of just ended up back to our ninth-grade science textbook,” Chaudhary told Business Insider.

Indeed, the professors at the lab in the Indian Institutes of Technology where they were testing Thermavault’s prototype were experimenting with two different salts which ended up being the best available options, a discovery made after the three teens tested another 20, none of which proved viable.

These were barium hydroxide octahydrate and ammonium chloride. The ammonium chloride alone, when dissolved, cooled the water to between 2 and 6 degrees Celsius (about 35 to 43 degrees Fahrenheit) perfect for many vaccines, while a dash of barium hydroxide octahydrate dropped that temperature to below freezing.

“We have been able to keep the vaccines inside the Thermavault for almost 10 to 12 hours,” Dr. Pritesh Vyas, an orthopedic surgeon who tested the device at V One hospital in Indore, said in a video on the Thermavault website.

Designing a prototype, the teens have already tested it in local hospitals, and are in the process of assembling another 200 for the purpose of testing them in 120 hospitals around Indore to produce the best possible scope of use and utility data for a product launch.

Their ingenuity and imagination won them the 2025 Earth Prize, which came with a $12,500 reward needed for this mass testing phase."

-via Good News Network, April 22, 2025

[medicaldevicesindustrynews]

What are the Advancements in 3D Printing High-Performance Plastics?

3D printing tech has gone from strength to strength at a rapid rate, altering more than a few industries. Amongst the several 3D printing applications, plastic 3D printing is really a game changer, offering adaptability, cost-efficiency, and innovation. The utmost new progressions in plastic 3D printing have pushed the limits of what was formerly thought conceivable. This blog will help you…

[recurvemedical]

Buy Medical Balloon Laguna Hills

Visit Recurve Medical to Buy a Medical Balloon In Laguna Hills. Our Medical Balloons can be used in procedures such as angioplasty, where they are used to widen narrowed or blocked blood vessels. They can also be used in other procedures such as stent placement, where they help to hold the stent in place and ensure that it remains open. For details, visit the website.

[cadvision]

Medical Device Design Engineers: Approaching Medical Device Design Explore the crucial role of mechanical engineers in medical device design. Learn about prototype evaluation, design development, validation, FDA compliance, risk management, and more.

[harriettmiller]

Advancements in Medical Device Prototype Development: Exploring PTFE Machining, Plastic Overmolding, and Chinese CNC Router Technology

Introduction

The field of medical device prototype development has witnessed remarkable advancements in recent years, driven by cutting-edge technologies and innovative manufacturing processes. This article delves into three key areas revolutionizing medical device prototyping: machining PTFE, overmolding plastic on metal, and the utilization of Chinese CNC routers. These advancements are shaping the future of medical device innovation, precision, and functionality.

Machining PTFE: Unlocking Possibilities in Medical Device Design

Polytetrafluoroethylene (PTFE), commonly known as Teflon, has become a popular material choice for medical device applications due to its exceptional biocompatibility, chemical resistance, and low friction properties. Machining PTFE allows for the creation of intricate and precise components, enabling the design and development of advanced medical devices.

CNC machines, equipped with specialized tooling, can accurately shape and machine PTFE into complex geometries. From surgical instrument handles to implantable components, machining PTFE offers the flexibility to translate design concepts into functional prototypes with high tolerances. This level of precision is crucial in the medical field, where device performance and patient safety are paramount.

Overmolding Plastic on Metal: Combining Strength and Versatility

Overmolding, a process that involves molding one material onto another, has gained significant traction in medical device manufacturing. Overmolding plastic on metal offers a unique set of benefits, combining the strength and durability of metal with the versatility and design possibilities of plastic.

In medical devices, overmolding allows for the creation of components with soft, ergonomic grips or cushioning features that enhance patient comfort. The process involves placing a pre-machined metal substrate into a mold, followed by injecting plastic material around it. This seamless integration of metal and plastic results in robust and functional prototypes, providing the necessary balance between structural integrity and user-friendly design.

Chinese CNC Routers: Affordable Precision and Manufacturing Capabilities

Chinese CNC routers have emerged as a cost-effective solution for medical device prototype development. These machines leverage advanced computer-controlled technology to precisely cut, shape, and carve a wide range of materials, including metals, plastics, and composites.

Chinese CNC routers offer competitive pricing without sacrificing precision and quality. With their versatility and scalability, these machines enable the production of complex medical device prototypes at a fraction of the cost compared to traditional machining methods. Leveraging Chinese CNC routers empowers medical device manufacturers to accelerate the development timeline, reduce costs, and iterate designs more efficiently.

Regulatory Considerations and Quality Assurance

While embracing these advancements in medical device prototype development, it is essential to emphasize the significance of regulatory compliance and quality assurance. Medical devices must adhere to rigorous standards and regulations to ensure patient safety and efficacy. Manufacturers must engage in thorough testing, validation, and documentation processes to meet regulatory requirements.

Additionally, collaborating with reputable suppliers and manufacturers in the medical device industry is crucial. When outsourcing production or utilizing technologies such as Chinese CNC routers, it is important to partner with trusted vendors who prioritize quality control, have a proven track record, and comply with the necessary certifications and regulations.

Conclusion

The landscape of medical device prototype development continues to evolve, driven by technological advancements and innovative manufacturing processes. Machining PTFE opens the doors to intricate designs and highly precise components, while overmolding plastic on metal combines strength and versatility for enhanced functionality. Chinese CNC routers provide affordable precision and manufacturing capabilities, enabling efficient production of medical device prototypes.

[facts-i-just-made-up]

Why do they call getting drunk getting hammered? And what then is the nail?

So the answer to the second half is "a human arm," and the first half is all about two friends named Mr. Li and Mr. Bell.

Li and Bell were Phi Sigma frat boys at USC, Li studied medicine and Bell studied engineering. Several at the frat made fun of their close friendship as they literally wanted to be a brain surgeon and rocket scientist, so the name “Brain Bros” caught on.

One day, Li learned about a theoretical (at the time) device called a “hypospray” (now called a jet injector) that gave inoculations not with a needle, but with the jet force of a spray that pushed the substance through the skin. It had been featured on the then-recent original Star Trek series (as TV censors back then didn’t want hypodermic needles on screen) in a sci-fi perfected way, and had been used in some rare and often accidental procedures but for the most part, the device was still just an idea. One that perhaps a medical student and engineering student could develop for their final theses.

Their scientific method was a bit underdeveloped at the time, partly due to their activities at frat parties. Instead of proper research, they began by seeing how much force was needed to push a substance through human skin in such a way that it would be absorbed by the body as efficiently as a common vaccine. They began not in a lab with a rat, but at Phi Sigma with Rudy “The Rude Man” Jansenson. They had some compressed air from a balloon-filled party and some peach schnapps. They put the latter in a tube against Rudy’s arm and let the system push it onto his skin. On, but not in. The PSI needed to give him the dose through his skin (over 2000) was simply not possible from that makeshift rig.

Mr. Li calculated the actual permeability for human skin the next day instead of going to class, and Mr. Bell found the simplest mechanism to apply that force instead of meeting with his academic probation supervisor. The answer, as you may have guessed from the original question, was the common hammer.

At the next frat kegger, Li and Bell debuted their first prototype for a functional hypospray, which was to pour Everclear on the subject and hit them with a hammer that Mr. Bell had stolen from the gardener’s shed. As this was a keg party at a frat, the idea was unanimously welcomed and the first hammering of college boys began.

Details from Li and Bell’s college expulsion hearing contained their records and results- Of the 50 students participating, all 50 had extensive bruising, 43 had broken bones, 33 held blood alcohol levels beyond safe limits, and 0 could be stated with certainty to have absorbed any alcohol through the experiment—because all 50 were already drunk, hence why they let the students hit them with a hammer to get drunker. So it came to be that “getting hammered” means getting more drunk than reasonable.

Li and Bell’s fates are not known with any certainty beyond their departure from college, but rumors abound. Most claim that they began to hang out with Timothy Leary, Jack Parsons, and Hunter S. Thompson. A friend of the first stated that he, Li, and Bell had experimented with “percussive application” of LSD and mescaline, along with trepanation to more directly hammer the psychedelics into the human brain. The only other possible record of the two comes from a concert in Boulder, CO in 2002 at which the band “Tool” performed.

It states that Bell and Li were seen hitting each other on the head with hammers during a performance of the trilogy of songs “Disposition / Reflection / Triad.” Their fate beyond this moment is unknown, though two men of their ages were checked in the same night for severe head injuries and extreme intoxication at the Boulder county morgue. RIP we presume to the Brain Bros, pioneers of getting fucked up in college and beyond.

FIJMU does not in any way endorse irresponsible drug use, hitting yourself with a hammer, or the band “Tool.”

[yasminawayne]

v. what's up danger?

SYNOPSIS: "Alright, let's do this one last time. My name is Y/N Kyle. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, And I've been the one and only Spidey in Gotham. I’m pretty sure you know the rest." PAIRING: Older! Damian Wayne/Fem! Reader TAGS: Established relationship, Wounds, Violence, Surgical procedures, Panic Attacks, Arguments AO3: yenwayne SERIES LINK: gotham's only spidey

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“Oh my god, stop! I do not need to see my own fucking thirst trap!” you groaned, quickly pausing the video. You turned away, face burning hotter than Metropolis's sun, and stared at the graffiti on the wall across from you.

You covered your face with your hands, groaning in embarrassment. “This is not how I pictured my debut.”

Morgan, still laughing her ass off, was clearly unfazed. She scrolled through the comments, her grin spreading even wider.

“You’ve gotta hear these,” she said, her voice barely containing her amusement. She began reading aloud, each comment more deranged than the last.

harry 🐾☕️ @ blehhidc ・1hr going to become a villain rn. pls choke slam me into Arkham.

ji ─ nightcrawlers #1 fan @ nightcrawler_updates・1hr i want nightcrawler to smash that helicopter on my tits

 ༻⊰───⋅

Thursday, 9:40 AM - Stark Industries, Gotham City.

Morgan grins, clearly pleased with the result. “Not too shabby, right?"

"What. The. Fuck."

“Language, kid.”

You turn, seeing Tony standing at the door. He taps on the metal frame of the entrance with his knuckles, the sound echoing slightly in the spacious lab. 

“That is suit A1. I call it the Crawler.”

He strides across the room, his footsteps echoing on the polished floor, and reaches a nearby table. The table is lined with various prototypes and gadgets, each more advanced than the last. He picks up a pair of gloves, black with red fingers and claws at the end, and hands them to you.

“Test the gloves out,” Tony instructs. “All the features are going to be introduced to you.”

You slip on the gloves and flex your fingers, feeling the suit respond instantly. As you activate the helmet's AI, a pleasant, slightly robotic voice greets you.

"Welcome, user. I am your integrated AI assistant. Please provide a designation."

Tony leans against a workbench, arms crossed, watching you with an expectant look. 

“You gotta name 'em,” he says. “Any ideas?”

Running your tongue over your teeth, you hesitate. Your gaze drifts away from Tony and lands on Morgan, who’s standing a few steps back, arms crossed, watching with a curious expression. She raises an eyebrow, sensing your uncertainty, but doesn’t say anything—just waits to see what you’ll do next.

“Uh...” you start, the words coming slowly as you search for the right name. 

For a moment, the lab fades into the background. Your thoughts drift back to your mother, and a familiar ache settles in your chest. You clear your throat, feeling a mix of emotions bubbling up. You’re not sure why, but something about this moment feels important.

“How about Maggie?”

The AI responds, "Designation accepted. I am Maggie."

You catch Morgan’s eyes, and she gives you a soft, almost tender look. There’s a warmth there, a silent recognition of what the name means to you. 

“Maggie it is, then,” Tony nods approvingly, clapping his hands as he approaches.

“Now, I’ll give you the basic rundown,” Tony says, gesturing towards the suit with a casual flick of his hand, his tone all business. “Night vision, live communication with Morgan here, medical and vital scans, contacts to emergency numbers, a heater, and a hood. The gloves? Claws for fights. And the suit also connects to web-shooters.”

You twist your wrist, curious, and notice small rectangular devices embedded in your palms, integrated with the gloves.

Tony catches your eye and points to them. “Those web-shooters are designed to enhance your organic webs—make them shoot better, farther, stronger, and faster.”

"Nice," you mutter, flexing your fingers.

The helmet’s display suddenly shifts, bringing up a sleek interface that showcases the various features Tony just mentioned. The visuals are crisp and clear, icons representing each function appearing in a smooth, fluid motion. 

Tony starts to circle you, his hands moving animatedly as he continues his explanation. “Then there’s the cape. And the advanced GPS with real-time tracking, so you’ll never lose your way, and neither will we.”

You let out a low whistle. “That is a whole hell of a lot. The media wasn’t joking when they said you were crazy about vigilante tech.”

“Crazy? I prefer ‘innovatively obsessed.’ Someone’s got to push the boundaries of what’s possible—might as well be the guy who’s not afraid to get a little nuts."

Reaching up, you pull the hood over your head, feeling it snap into place with a satisfying click. The suit responds instantly, the advanced GPS blinking to life on your helmet’s display, projecting a detailed map of Gotham right before your eyes. You catch a faint scent wafting through the helmet—clean and fresh, with just a hint of leather. 

“Smells like a new car in here, Mr. Stark,” you grin, taking a deep breath.

"Happy to help, kid. Are we good to go?" Tony asks.

You nod, feeling the suit's snug fit as it conforms to your movements. Tony smirks as he grabs Morgan by the shoulders, steering her toward the door. Her sneakers squeak against the polished tiles as she resists slightly, more out of surprise than reluctance.

"Alright! Come on," Tony urges, pressing the buttons for the elevator. The sleek doors slide open with a soft whoosh. 

Confused, you take a moment to let the suit decloak, watching as it seamlessly transforms back into the inconspicuous glasses and belt. 

You raise an eyebrow, still unsure of what’s happening. “Go where?”

“The safehouse,” Tony replies with a shrug as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

 ༻⊰───⋅

Thursday, 1:06 PM - ???, Gotham City.

"What the fuck wrong with you people?"

You step out of Tony's car, your eyes widening as you take in the sight before you. The building looms ahead, a decaying relic from another era. The "SOLD" sign is barely visible through the grime and neglect, and the structure itself looks like it hasn’t seen a lick of maintenance in decades. The windows are boarded up with splintered wood, and the paint on the facade peels away in large, ragged chunks, revealing the weathered wood underneath.

Tony and Morgan follow you out, donning hoodies and glasses to blend in and avoid drawing attention. 

“You guys bought a building?!”

Morgan gives you a sheepish smile. Tony, on the other hand, claps a hand on your shoulder, his grin wide and unapologetic.

“Welcome to the new safehouse,” Tony announces with a dramatic flourish of his hands. “It’s got character, right? Sometimes, you’ve got to go a little off the beaten path to find the perfect spot.”

“Sorry,” Morgan chuckles, shaking her head. “Dad insisted. I guess we’ll see how well it lives up to that promise.”

Tony shrugs, unbothered. “Hey, it’s got the essentials: privacy, space, and with a little TLC, it’ll be great. Besides, it’s just a base of operations. You won’t be living here full-time.”

You glance at the rundown building, still skeptical. “I hope you’re right about this.”

“You’re killing me, kid. I’ve seen your old warehouse. This place? It’s a palace compared to that dump. I’ve already done some work on it,” Tony chuckles, shaking his head as he locks his car. You have half a mind to tell him that leaving a luxury car in this neighborhood might not be the best idea, but you hold back. 

“This”—he emphasizes with a sweeping gesture—“will be better than anything you’ve had.” 

With that, you all walk past a broken, torn-up gate, its metal barely hanging on its hinges and rusted beyond repair. Tony retrieves a key from his pocket, and with a satisfying click, he unlocks the door. You all follow him inside.

Inside, the space contrasts sharply with its run-down exterior. The walls were covered with graffiti. Books are scattered haphazardly in one corner, and some tech equipment is piled up in the organized chaos.

Large screens line the room, with a computer at the center, displaying a dizzying array of data streams, security feeds, and holographic schematics.

Holographic displays float above the desks, showing real-time analytics and project statuses. A central 3D map of Gotham rotates slowly, highlighting key locations and active missions with a soft glow.

Mechanical robotic arms are scattered throughout the space—some hanging from the ceiling, others mounted on the walls. They buzz and whir softly as they perform routine maintenance on your equipment.

Your jaw drops, and your shoulders slump as you take in the scene. Your eyes widen in disbelief, and you instinctively take a step back, as if trying to distance yourself from the sheer scale of the tech before you. 

Morgan steps in behind you, her gaze sweeping across the room with recognition. She whistles low and turns to Tony, her eyebrows raised.

“So that’s where some of my old tech went.”

“Old?!” you screech at her. “This looks like a high-tech haven compared to what we were using before!”

Morgan rolls her eyes and nudges you playfully. “Dad likes to think anything not cutting-edge is ancient history. This is all yesterday’s innovations.”

“Yep. If this is ‘high-tech,’ I’d hate to see what you were working with before,” Tony snarks, shutting the warehouse door with a creak from the rusted hinges. “Bet you had a rotary dial phone in there too, didn’t you, kid?”

“Ha ha,” you retort, rolling your eyes. “But seriously, this setup is actually impressive.”

You look around, then toss your backpack onto a nearby table and pull out your old suit. It’s practically obsolete with the new upgrades, but you’re thinking of framing it for nostalgia’s sake. Tony’s gaze sharpens as he inspects the material.

“Wayne Tech? Is that Kevlar?” Tony says, his expression souring. “Low blow bringing that into my house.”

“Lower than you think,” you shrug.

“Alright, whatever,” Tony grumbles, waving a hand dismissively. “Get that thing out of my sight before I projectile vomit all over it.”

“Wouldn’t want to make you hurl before your next upgrade,” you snort under your breath.

“I’m going to do you a solid, kid, and pretend I didn’t hear any of that.”

Turning back to the central table, Tony snaps his fingers. Holograms flicker to life, projecting a variety of case files and news reports.

“Now, let’s get down to business.”

The holograms display a series of high-profile incidents, with the central image featuring Black Mask, his grim visage glaring out from multiple angles.

You frown and step closer, your eyes scanning the floating holograms. Articles about Oscorp Industries, research papers on spiders, and other related documents whir around, each highlighted with a soft, glowing outline. 

Among the swirling articles and data, one catches your eye: an Octavius Burton article from your prom night.

Tony glances at you. “Everything here ties into what we’re dealing with.”

Humming, you step closer and press the Octavius Burton file. Morgan shifts beside you, her expression unreadable.

"That was the guy who attacked us at prom..." you say, turning to her.

Morgan nods and taps another hologram, revealing a new file marked “Confidential.” It’s from a government source, with its contents obscured by digital encryption.

The file opens to reveal classified documents, high-security footage, and a death certificate among them.

“He died a week ago,” Morgan says, scuffing her shoes against the floor, the sound echoing slightly in the room. “And for some reason, Blackgate officials are trying to keep it under wraps. He died after injecting himself with a serum.”

She pauses, her dark eyes locking onto yours with piercing intensity. “Lizard serum.”

Tony taps a few commands, and more files appear on the holographic display. These documents focus on Octavius's genetic research, showing charts, graphs, and notes on enhancing human abilities.

“Here’s where it gets interesting,” Tony says, pointing to a dense document. “Octavius was obsessed with improving human potential, working on genetic modifications to enhance physical and mental capabilities.”

Morgan’s expression tightens as she explains, “He was trying to create a new kind of metahuman. The robotic arms were his first success, but the spider serum was supposed to be the next big leap. When the board rejected it and refused to fund him, he turned to more dangerous methods.”

Tony nods, adding, “And from what we know, it seems like he might have been successful with his spider serum research in some way.”

Morgan’s gaze shifts to you. You feel a burning sensation where you were bitten, and shift uncomfortably, tracing the spot on your skin with your fingers.

“But that serum was lost after his arrest. This lizard serum, however, is a completely different story. It’s not connected to him.”

You study the files closely, noting sections on enhancing strength, agility, and cognitive functions—some of which match your own research with Selina.

“Uh, he... I think he used to work with my dad. My late biological dad,” you say, scratching your cheek thoughtfully.

Tony’s brows shoot up in surprise. “Your dad?”

You nod, struggling to find the right words as you stumble over them. “Yeah, my dad worked at Oscorp. When I first got my powers, I found some of his old research on spiders. It’s almost identical to what Octavius was working on. He even thanked Octavius in one of his papers.”

“Freaky...” Morgan murmurs, her face scrunching into a grimace. “And now you’re—”

“I have the same powers after being bitten by a spider the night of Octavius’ attack,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Freaky indeed.”

The room falls into a heavy silence before Morgan speaks up.

"Stark Industries, uh... also used to do genetic research."

Tony tenses but doesn’t interrupt her.

“For medical purposes,” Morgan continues, “we studied serums based on animal genetics. My mom was seriously ill, and we explored genetic modifications to help her. One serum showed promise but ultimately failed.”

Tony’s eyes darken, and he lifts his head slowly, pain evident in his gaze.

“It sped up her sickness,” Tony says, sorrow seeping into his tone. “Despite the risks and the devastating consequences, I administered the serum because I was desperate. Desperate people make dangerous decisions. And... she wasn’t the only one affected.”

Tony’s face hardens, a shadow of regret crossing his features. “I thought I could make a difference, save lives. But instead, I caused suffering. My research led to deaths—people betrayed by the very hope I offered. I shut down that department the next day, but the damage was already done.”

His tone is cold, terribly cold, as he turns to you, placing his hands on your shoulders. "You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be alive. But you are. And there’s a reason for that. I need you to understand that. I need you to believe that what you’ve been given isn’t a curse—it’s a chance."

"I know," you murmur. "And I believe in that chance."

"That’s why I want to help you, kid," he says. "I owe it to everyone who was affected by these experiments. If I can do anything to make up for the past or assist you in this fight, then I will. Because it’s the least I can do."

Tony steps back and taps a button on the console. A hologram flickers to life.

“This is Curt Connors,” Tony says, gesturing toward the hologram. The image reveals a man with rugged features: high cheekbones, a strong jawline, and short-cut brown hair. He wears glasses and a lab coat, but what catches your eye is his prosthetic arm.

Tony continues, “Connors is currently researching lizard genetics. He’s got the Sionis family bankrolling him, so you know he’s not working with spare change. From what we know, he’s working on enhancements like Octavius was. There’s a solid chance he’s cooked up the serum that led to Octavius’s demise.”

Morgan steps closer, her fingers brushing the screen to bring up more data. “That’s why we need to find his research location and figure out exactly what he’s working on.”

You study the photo of Dr. Connors, zooming in on the details. 

“So, that’s the mission then,” you murmur, your gaze fixed on the image.

Tony looks between you and Morgan. “Once we have a lead on Connors, we can plan our next steps.”

“I’ll dig into any leads I can find on Connors. But be ready for some dead ends. This guy doesn’t exactly advertise his work,” Tony says, waving his phone around.

You consider the situation, glancing between Tony and Morgan. “Do you want me to start searching for information tonight? I can patrol.”

“Slow your roll, kid,” Tony raises a hand, his tone cautionary. “I’m aware of your ‘find out the hard way’ track record. PEPPER’s medical reports on you say enough.”

“Uh, I’ve got enhanced DNA. I can handle it,” you laugh at him.

“Uh,” Tony mocks, “who cares? Keep getting beat up like this, and you’ll end up dead—and that’ll be on me. My wealth, connections, and power can only do so much to sway public opinion in my favor. I’m not exactly Bruce Wayne, you know.”

Tony had seen footage of you in action and read the headlines—who hasn’t? Gotham was crawling with spandex-wearing vigilantes darting across rooftops, each with a more outlandish name than the last. He hadn’t paid them much mind—aside from their flashy tech, they weren’t his concern. But then there was you: the serum, the connections. Once he dug into that, Tony found himself unexpectedly driven, despite himself, to keep you alive.

“Seriously? Enhanced healing, web-spinning, and super strength here,” you say, crossing your arms. “I’m not exactly made of glass…”

“If we want to get to the bottom of this lizard guy, we need you alive,” Morgan says, shooting you a look and pushing up her glasses. “So, you have to take it slow. Baby steps.”

She moves to a medical area in the corner and gestures for you to follow. You raise an eyebrow but comply. Her hands slide up your arm and roll up your sleeve.

“Starting with this.”

Morgan pricks a needle into your arm, and you yelp. You wince at the sting and the cold spreading from the needle, feeling the pressure as your blood is drawn.

“Dude! What the hell?” you exclaim.

“Blood sample,” she replies matter-of-factly. She extracts the sample and slaps a bandaid on your arm. “Have you ever thought about how your powers work? Or how modified you really are?”

Morgan moves toward a machine that looks like something straight out of a sci-fi movie. The device hums to life, its surface lighting up with a soft blue glow. A series of holographic displays flicker into existence, showing intricate scans and streams of data.

Morgan inserts the vial of your blood into a slot on the machine, and the device immediately begins processing the sample. The holograms shift and change, displaying molecular structures and DNA sequences.

Morgan studies the readouts. “Your DNA is... fascinating. The spider venom bonded with your cells.”

“You see this?" she points to a segment of the hologram. "This is where the venom altered your genetic structure.”

You grin, stepping closer to the display. “Yeah! I’ve seen this before. I… did some research on my own. The venom has this enzyme that acts as a catalyst, a transgenic catalyst, that facilitates its integration with human DNA. The spider’s genetic material introduces specific protein structures that enhance cellular regeneration and muscle density. Essentially, it’s rewriting my genetic code at a molecular level. The changes are so thorough that my cells keep churning out these proteins and enzymes, which is why my abilities are so persistent. It’s like I’ve got built-in bioengineering on a cellular level. And—”

You trail off, realizing you’re rambling. Coughing into your hand, you try to muster a serious expression. “Uh, sorry. I tend to geek out over this stuff.”

Tony blinks at you from his spot, and Morgan raises an eyebrow, clearly taken aback.

“Sometimes I forget you’re actually smart,” Morgan says, narrowing her eyes. “Every time you show a hint of intelligence, it’s like a miracle.”

“Wow,” you grumble, flushing with embarrassment.

“It’s cute,” Morgan says with a smile, continuing to read the data. “Basic stuff. Super strength, enhanced healing... standard Spidey powers we’ve seen.”

A beep sounds as she taps another screen.

“Pain tolerance when you’re adrenaline-fueled is off the charts,” she murmurs. “If you ever needed surgery, the amount of anesthetic required would be dangerously high.”

Tony leans over her shoulder. “The dosage you'd need could drop an elephant—twice over.”

Morgan glances up, turning the tablet to face you. “Your reflexes and agility are beyond the usual. You’re faster and more responsive. But that means your body burns energy quickly. You’ll need a high-calorie diet to keep up with your metabolism.”

"I do," you shrug. "I burn through like six meals a day. Our grocery bills have never been higher."

“Well, did you know you need over 5,000 calories a day?” Morgan tilts her head. “I doubt six meals covers that.”

“Oh,” you flush. "How was I supposed to know that?"

“You figured out the science behind your powers on a genetic level, but couldn't figure out how much food you need?” Tony quips.

“…yes?”

“You’re killing me, kid,” Tony groans, raising an eyebrow as he pulls out his phone. “Great. I’ll make a note to increase your stipend for groceries. Feeding you might bankrupt me faster than any supervillain ever could.”

Tony steps out to take a call from his secretary, leaving you and Morgan alone in the lab. She’s absorbed in analyzing your results, mumbling to herself and scribbling notes on a ratty notepad. You let out a sigh, reactivating your suit and running your fingers along the edges of the emblem on your chest.

Spiders, lizards, bats, and cats... What’s with all these animals?

At least you’re not up against dinosaurs.

…

Yet.

 ༻⊰───⋅

Thursday, 8:03 PM - Downtown, Gotham City.

This? This was awesome. 

Swinging from the skyscrapers, you feel an adrenaline rush unlike anything you've experienced back in Queens. The swings are higher, the speed is faster, and the thrill is almost overwhelming. 

Gotham’s downtown is a far cry from Queens. 

Where once you swung past modest streetlamps and low-rise buildings, now you’re darting off glassy skyscrapers that pierce the sky. The towering structures and crowded streets of Gotham create a backdrop that feels almost alien—a dazzling, high-octane contrast to the familiar neighborhood you left behind. It’s like stepping into an entirely new world, and the exhilaration of it all is intoxicating.

"You know, after that big pep talk, I figured you'd want to take a breather," Morgan’s face appears on the screen of your helmet. She’s lounging in a chair at your new safehouse, clad in a dark tank top with her hair tousled and square glasses perched on her nose.

She looks every bit the quintessential “guy in the chair.”

“We’ve been looking over case files for hours! Cut me some slack for wanting to get some fresh air!” you retort, flipping through the air and executing a sharp swing around a skyscraper.

Morgan shakes her head, frowning. “You still have, like, two broken ribs.”

“Which will probably heal in about an hour,” you point out.

You swing onto a rooftop, landing with a skid as the rough concrete bites into your boots, the jarring impact vibrating up your legs. You brace yourself, absorbing the shock, then straighten up, brushing off the dust and debris clinging to your suit. The city lights glint off the sleek metal of your gear.

“Maggie,” Morgan’s voice carries a hint of pleading. “Run their vitals.”

A moment of silence follows, with only the distant hum of the city below. Then Maggie’s voice, calm and measured, comes through the earpiece, her data flashing across your visor. “Vitals are stable. No immediate signs of distress, but the injuries are fresh. Overexertion could lead to complications.”

Morgan’s face reappears on your helmet’s screen, her glasses glinting in the dim light of the safehouse. “See? Even Maggie agrees. Maybe it’s time to take it easy for a while.”

You let out a sigh. “Yeah, yeah. But come on, fresh air’s good for the soul, right?”

“I get it, but you should still be careful. Gotham’s not exactly known for being forgiving.”

You chuckle, stretching your arms above your head. “I’ll keep that in mind. Crime doesn't sleep. But for now, I’m enjoying the view.”

The adrenaline from your earlier swings starts to mellow, leaving a calm satisfaction in its wake. For a moment, it’s just you and the city, connected in a way.

Morgan's voice returns to your earpiece, lighter now. "You know, I’ve been thinking about something while you were out there."

You raise an eyebrow, glancing out over the city. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Well,” she begins, a hint of hesitation in her tone, “since I’m always in the thick of things with you, I’ve been thinking I might need a codename or alias. Something that fits my role.”

You chuckle, turning to look down at the bustling street below, a river of colors as people move like ants in the city’s labyrinth. “True. I have to call my guy in the chair something. What are you leaning toward?”

“Morgana,” she replies, a touch of pride in her voice.

You laugh, a genuine burst of amusement that makes your shoulders shake. “Really? Just adding a letter to your name? That’s what you’ve got?”

Morgan’s tone turns playful. “Hey! It’s better than nothing.”

“Alright, Morgana,” you snort, giving one last look at the cityscape before preparing to head back into the night. “You up for some monitoring? I’m heading back out. This city needs me.”

“Oh, so cool,” she laughs at your last line. “You’re like Batman.”

“He is the standard,” you reply, stepping to the edge of the building. The cold wind brushes against your suit and tugs at your hood. You pull it up, feeling the fabric tighten around your face as you squint against the biting breeze.

“Think you can get me a gig?”

“Sure. Give me a moment.”

On your visor, the map highlights various irregularities in bright, pulsing colors. Patterns of activity pulse in vivid reds and oranges, tracing a trail of anomalies through the city's grid. 

Then, a prominent prompt flashes onto the screen, breaking through the overlay of data. It’s a high-priority alert, marked by a flashing icon and an urgent red border.

Morgan’s fingers dance across her laptop keyboard, the rhythmic click-clack of her nails echoing in your helmet. “Ready for your first big debut?” 

You check the readout, eyes narrowing. “What’ve you got for me tonight, Gotham?”

Immediately, the visor's display shifts to show a live news feed. The screen splits, revealing a scene unfolding at Wayne Industries. The news anchor's voice cuts through the rush of wind and the hum of your suit’s systems.

"—reporting live from Wayne Industries. A helicopter has been hijacked and has stolen sensitive technology. The situation is escalating, and authorities are struggling to regain control. We have reports of the helicopter on a collision course with the city’s power grid."

The live feed is a frenzied mix of flashing lights and dark, ominous smoke. The camera, amateur and shaky, captures the scene with screams and frantic commentary. The helicopter wobbles dangerously close to the towering buildings, its movements growing more erratic by the second.

“Alright, Morgana, give me a location on that chopper. I’m heading in.”

“On it. I’ll track its trajectory and keep you updated. Be careful out there.”

With a flip, you launch yourself off the rooftop, the sensation of free-fall exhilarating. The city lights blur into streaks of color as you swing through the air. Each swing propels you higher and faster. 

A few sharp, speedy webs later, you spot the helicopter's silhouette slicing through the thick, smoky haze—a dark, menacing shape against the illuminated skyline.

THWAP.

With a powerful swing, you fire a web at the tail of the helicopter, the line snapping tight and anchoring you securely. You grunt with effort, reeling it in and pulling with all your strength. The helicopter lurches violently, its spinning blades blurring dangerously.

Quickly, you fire another web, anchoring it to a nearby building. Using the momentum, you swing to the opposite side and shoot another web to stabilize the helicopter. The erratic spinning slows as the webs pull it into a more controlled, steady position. 

“Alright, you glorified bucket of bolts,” you mutter, “let’s see how you like a little traffic jam!”

You draw back and hurl yourself toward the helicopter’s blades, cutting through the deafening noise. Multiple webs shoot from your wrists, encasing the spinning blades in thick, sticky threads. The helicopter’s spin slows, the blades eventually halting as the craft begins to tremble and sway.

Panting, you cling to the helicopter’s side, your feet firmly anchored on the fuselage. Through the cockpit, you see the hijackers, their movements erratic and panicked.

One lunges at you with a knife, but you snatch it away and web it to the helicopter’s side. “Whoa, careful there! You might poke an eye out with that thing.”

The hijackers scramble, their attempts to regain control clumsy and chaotic. D-grade criminals, you think, as you fire webs to disarm them, yanking their guns and knives away.

“This is just sad. I was hoping for some more action,” you quip, grabbing one hijacker by the collar and tossing him out of the cockpit. He flails wildly as he’s hurled into the air, but you’re quick to fire a web, catching him and securing him to a nearby rooftop. His face pales to a ghostly white as he dangles precariously above the city. 

The second hijacker tries to take advantage of your distraction, but you’re on top of it. You spin, firing a web that catches him mid-swing. With a swift, decisive shove, you slam him against the side of the helicopter. He grunts in pain, and with a quick yank, you toss him out. Another web secures him to the same rooftop as his partner, leaving them both dangling high above the city.

You swing back to the rooftop where you left the men hanging and grin down at them. “Time for you guys to have a chat with the authorities,” you call out. “Hope you enjoyed your flight!”

KABOOM!

Before you can take another step, a violent shudder erupts from the helicopter. A plume of black smoke bursts from the engine compartment, followed by a sharp, bright explosion that momentarily illuminates the night sky. The helicopter's frame buckles and a series of smaller explosions ripple through it, sending debris scattering into the air.

“Oh boy,” you mutter, eyes widening as the helicopter, now belching thick, dark smoke, begins a slow, uncontrolled descent. Without a moment's hesitation, you dive after it, the wind roaring in your ears as you plummet. Your eyes stay fixed on the spiraling craft, webs catching falling debris to propel you faster.

Below, chaos erupts. Civilians scatter, their panicked screams piercing the clamor of the sputtering engines. Amidst the fleeing crowd, one woman remains frozen—her uniform and press ID visible. Trembling, she clutches her phone, snapping photos as the helicopter plummets closer.

"WATCH OUT!"

 ༻⊰───⋅

Thursday, 8:34 PM - Downtown, Gotham City.

A Few Moments Earlier.

“Mister Ryder, I assure you, I am not insane!” 

Vicki Vale’s voice slices through the cacophony of Gotham’s busy streets, sharp and urgent. Her frustration is clear as she clutches her phone with a vice-like grip, her manicured fingers pressing into the device. Around her, the city's frenetic pulse continues unabated—taxi horns blare, and the murmur of the crowd flows around her like a river.

Her eyes dart around, scanning the street, trying to make herself heard over the din. “I was there! The spider vigilante is real! I was nearly robbed, and they intervened directly!”

Her boss’s voice on the other end is clipped, dismissive. “Vicki, I understand your enthusiasm, but right now, we need to focus on what’s capturing the public’s interest. Wayne and Stark are making headlines. Why not go interview that Kyle girl? It’s a classic rags-to-riches story. The public eats that up.”

“Who cares about some civilian?!” Vicki’s frustration boils over. She steps into the crowded Gotham streets, where people glance at her momentarily before resuming their daily routines. “This vigilante could be huge!”

“Vicki, we’re on a tight deadline,” her boss interrupts firmly. “Unless you have solid proof and concrete details about this��� Spider, I don’t see how this story fits. Stick to the Wayne-Stark coverage for now. We’ll revisit the vigilante angle if it gains traction.”

Vicki’s protest is cut short by a sudden, deafening scream. She swivels her head, then snaps her gaze upward, eyes widening in disbelief. Above, the helicopter spins wildly—a chaotic blur of metal and smoke, its descent wreaking havoc on the cityscape.

A figure emerges—a vigilante slicing through the smoke like a bolt of lightning. The red and black suit flashes against the darkening sky, the emblem of a bold, black spider spreading its legs wide.

Bingo.

Without a second thought, Vicki plunges into the heart of the chaos. Around her, the crowd is a roiling sea of panic and flight, but she’s single-minded. Her fingers fumble with her phone, desperately trying to position the lens toward the unfolding spectacle.

SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!

Flashes of light burst from her camera in rapid succession. Every captured frame is a fragment of the story she’s been hunting, and nothing—nothing at all—will pry this chance from her grasp.

KABOOM!

A deafening roar slams into Vicki’s ears, obliterating all other sounds, leaving only a sharp ring. The helicopter plummets in a swift, uncontrollable descent—a menacing blur of spinning metal and thick, black smoke, tumbling right toward her. Her eyes widen in horror, breath caught in her throat as the scene drags out in slow motion.

“WATCH OUT!”

The warning is almost too late.

A powerful gust of wind sweeps through, lifting Vicki off her feet. She screams, grabbing onto the nearest figure with a white-knuckled grip. The vigilante, clad in a red and black suit, swoops in, pulling her into the air. 

“Whatever you do, don’t let go!” you shout over the howling wind. Vicki scrambles and her arms clamp around your neck.

You swing into action, firing a web at a nearby rooftop to secure yourself. With one hand gripping the web line anchored to the building, you hold up both yourself and Vicki, who is clinging to you with white-knuckled fear. Your other hand reaches out, shooting another web directly at the falling helicopter. 

SNAP!

The web snaps into place, and you grunt as the sudden force pulls you, but the other web holds firm. With a mighty effort, you brace yourself, bearing the full weight of the 6,000-pound craft. 

“Ah, fuck,” you mutter, biting your lip as you throw your head back. Pain flares up like a bad cramp, every muscle in your arm and back screaming.

“Pretty sure I just broke something,” you grimace, feeling the weight of the helicopter pushing you to the limit. But with adrenaline fueling you, you grit your teeth and somehow keep it suspended. "This is great. Love my life."

Vicki, initially shaking in shock, gradually starts to calm down. Before you know it, she’s unwinding one arm from your shoulder and frantically digging through her pocket for her phone. You flinch at the sudden shift in weight.

“Hey! Hey! Hey! Lady! Will’ya stop moving?!” you scold, trying to keep both of you steady, but she’s too busy to care. Her attention is locked on her screen as she fumbles to activate the video function.

“Seriously? You’re recording now?”

Clinging to you with just one hand wrapped around your neck, she somehow keeps the lens focused on your helmet. Here she is, literally hanging on for dear life, yet still focused on getting that scoop. 

You can’t decide if she’s brave, stupid, or both.

“My name is Vicki Vale, and I’m a reporter for Gotham Gazette!” she shouts, her voice slightly distorted by the adrenaline. “I’m witnessing an incredible act of heroism here! The Vigilante—”

Before she can continue, you shoot a quick, exasperated look at her. “Not the time for an interview!”

“Uh. We’re live, so if you could just—”

“Not the time! Seriously?” you hiss. “Can we save the interview for after I’m done holding up a helicopter?”

Vicki shoves her phone back in your face. “This is history! People need to know who you are. Give me something to work with!”

You let out an exasperated groan, eyes squinting against the strain. “Alright, alright! You want a scoop? One question only. What do you want to know?”

“Why are you doing this? What’s your mission here in Gotham?” 

“I’m—” you pause, wincing as a fresh wave of pain hits. “I’m here to protect the city. People like you and everyone below deserve safety, and if I can help provide that, then... Shit!—that’s... that’s what I’ll do.”

The helicopter lurches again, and you grimace. “Just—okay! Got your story, right? Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

With a slow, controlled motion, you begin to lower the helicopter. The descent is careful, each web-strained inch guiding the craft to a safe landing. Finally, with a gentle thud, the helicopter touches down on the ground. The immense weight lifts from your shoulders, and you thank every god you can think of.

Jumping down, you land a safe distance from the wreck and gently set Vicki down. The streets around you hum with activity as emergency responders rush in. You let out a deep sigh of relief, feeling a sharp sting in your back—a problem for another day.

Vicki tucks her phone away, and as the adrenaline fades, you freeze. You know her—Vicki Vale. Columnist, gadfly, all-around troublemaker. The kind of trouble people crave and dread in equal measure.

She flashes a dazzling smile, perfect teeth catching the light as her nails trail up your bicep. You flinch, fighting to keep your cool. 

“You’ve given me one heck of a story,” she purrs, her voice dropping an octave, laced with a flirtatious edge.

“So, what’s your deal?” she continues, leaning in a bit closer. “Secret identity? Hidden agenda?”

You glance at her, trying to maintain a professional tone despite the proximity. “Not interested in sharing more than I already have. Ha. Just… doing my job.”

Vicki smirks, clearly intrigued. “Well, I’ll keep digging. Heroes like you always have the best stories. And maybe… if you’re lucky, I’ll let you in on what I find.”

You let out a dry chuckle, feeling the heat from her proximity. “Glad to be of service. Just remember to stay safe out there.”

With a final nod, you shoot a web into the night and swing away, the cityscape unfolding beneath you as you disappear into the darkness.

What’s with you and redheads?

 ༻⊰───⋅

Thursday, 10:41 PM - Batcave, Wayne Manor.

On one of the main screens of the Batcomputer, a news report flickers into view.

"—hat we’ve witnessed tonight is nothing short of extraordinary. A helicopter, which was hijacked and rigged to explode, was on a collision course with the city’s power grid. The situation seemed dire, but then, out of nowhere, a hero arrived."

The scene cuts to the video shot by Vicki Vale on her phone. Despite the shaky camerawork, the footage captures the exchange clearly.

“My name is Vicki Vale, and I’m a reporter for Gotham Gazette! I’m witnessing an incredible act of heroism here! The Vigilante—”

“Not the time for an interview!”

“This is history! People need to know who you are. Give me something to work with!”

“Alright, alright! You want a scoop? One question only. What do you want to know?”

“Why are you doing this? What’s your mission here in Gotham?” 

“I’m—I’m here to protect the city. People like you and everyone below deserve safety, and if I can help provide that, then that’s what I’ll do.”

The broadcast returns to the news anchors.

“The footage from journalist Vicki Vale offers an “unprecedented glimpse into the actions of this mysterious figure. It’s clear that Gotham has a new guardian, and their bravery hasn’t gone unnoticed. Though it’s only been a matter of hours since the incident, social media has already dubbed the vigilante 'the Nightcrawler.'"

A still image of Nightcrawler appears onscreen, frozen mid-swing through the skyline, one hand reaching out toward the helicopter.

"While their true identity remains a mystery, it’s evident that Nightcrawler’s heroics tonight have made a significant impact! Move over, bats, there’s a new hero in town—"

Before the news anchor can finish, a Batarang hurles across the room, embedding itself in the Batcomputer’s screen with a sharp, metallic thud. The screen sputters violently, sparks erupting around the jagged edge of the blade as the image distorts. The monitor flickers wildly, casting brief, chaotic shadows before it goes dark.

Bruce whirls around, eyes wide. “Damian!”

"I'm going to kill them!"

“Enough!” Bruce snaps, yanking off his cowl with a frustrated sigh. He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off a headache, salt-and-pepper hair falling messily over his furrowed brows.

“Start from the top. What’s this about the vigilante?”

Damian, braced against his bike, glares through his mask. “Oh, I don’t know, Father. Maybe because just as we’re about to start patrol, some so-called minor vigilante swoops in and takes over the hijacking we were handling.”

He jabs a finger at the damaged screen, frustration crackling in his voice. “And on top of that, this ‘hero’ seems to have made it their personal mission to mess with my operations.”

“What operations?”

Damian’s jaw tightens as he spits out, “It’s… It’s Y/N.”

Bruce’s shoulders tense as he swivels his head, darting rapid, searching glances at Tim, Dick, Cassandra, and Jason.

“Alright, Damian,” Dick says, pushing himself off the control panel. “That’s a big bomb to drop out of nowhere. We need details. What do we know about this Spider?”

Damian, clearly agitated, rolls his shoulders and scoffs. “When I was assigned to track them—”

“No one assigned you,” Jason points out. “You’ve been on a one-man crusade to follow every shady character in Gotham. It’s practically your hobby at this point.”

“And it’s led me to this,” Damian hisses, slamming his fist against the edge of his bike. The impact sends a shudder through the entire vehicle. “So, if you’re done interrupting, maybe we can actually make progress. Remember the night of the dinner when they showed up, bruised and battered?”

“You’re saying it’s connected?” Tim narrows his eyes, sliding his laptop from the table and settling it on his lap. He flips the keyboard open, his fingers flying over the keys. “If we pull together all the recent incidents and sightings, we might spot a pattern.”

Bruce nods slowly, a deep-rooted fear gripping his heart. The threads of panic pull at him, a sensation all too familiar. It’s a feeling that surfaces whenever his insane, trauma-fueled, highly trained, rebellious sons sneak out—something that’s happened more times than he can count—and it never leads to anything good.

He’s caught in the well-worn groove of dread, like an old record that keeps skipping to the same track. The adoption jokes practically write themselves in his mind, but right now, he's too worried to laugh.

Selina and Bruce had always been a tangled mess of on-again, off-again. 

When they were younger, the chase was a thrill, the romance intense. But when things got serious, the cracks started to show. Bruce was too immersed in his work as Batman, burning himself down to ash to save his city. Selina loved her freedom as Catwoman and couldn’t bear to watch him destroy himself.

Then, one storm-lashed night, everything changed. Selina appeared at his doorstep, Rain streamed off her like tears, and in her arms was a small bundle—a toddler, swaddled tight but still shivering, cheeks flushed and red. 

It had been years since they’d last spoken. Bruce, barely containing his shock, asked if the child was his. Selina shook her head, the sobs barely intelligible as she murmured something lost to his ears.

Not his, he mourned. 

But the connection was there. You were a mirror of his own younger self—the same tragic backstory, the same deep-seated sadness. In the quiet, lonely hours of the night, Bruce would find himself searching for glimpses of your life, his mind wandering to what might have been. You were his child in spirit, if not in blood.

His daughter—if not truly, then almost.

“A solid approach,” Bruce says, snapping back to focus. “Her safety is our top priority. We need to figure out how to protect her from whatever this threat is.”

“But what exactly are we protecting her from?” asks Dick. “We still don’t fully understand what this vigilante wants or why they’re fixated on Y/N.”

Cass steps forward, her hands moving fluidly. 

“Sullen,” she signs.

Tim nods in understanding, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he updates the document. 

“Does Selina know about this?” he asks, glancing up. “Y/N’s been looking more scrawny. They’ve put on some muscle, sure, but they’re clearly neglecting their health. We might have missed other signs.”

Bruce made a strangled sound in his throat. He mentally made a note to call Selina later.

Catwoman hadn't been on any heists recently—good for Gotham, but bad for Bruce. 

Had they been struggling financially? He could easily arrange for groceries or some form of support—after all, it was the least he could do.

“Kid came in with a black eye,” Jason grunts, striding over to his gear. He slams rubber bullets into their chambers with a sharp clack, the sound echoing through the room. “And from what I see, they’ve been holding back on us. We should’ve noticed something was off sooner.”

Damian rubs his eyes in frustration. Guilt eats at him. 

You'd been hiding injuries and sneaking around at odd hours, that much was clear. The Spider inflicted them deliberately, not just to hurt you but to send a message. It was a warning to the Bats that they could make things much worse if they got in their way.

“There was a cut on their ribs. A knife wound. The way it was done, so precise—there’s no way it was an accident or a stray hit. Someone wanted to hurt them, to send a clear message.”

Everyone’s head whips toward Damian.

Dick takes a deep, shuddering breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “She didn’t tell until after that night?”

Damian’s fingers dig into his own arms, leaving crescents of white where his nails press. “They’ve been hiding things from us. I should’ve seen it coming. I’ve been pouring over every encounter, trying to piece together what’s been going on. But there’s something we’re missing, and I—”

His voice catches, trembling with regret. “They must have been too terrified to speak out. It took them showing me before I finally caught on to what was happening.”

Bruce steps forward, his hand soothing over Damian's tense shoulders. “Son, now isn’t the time to blame yourself.”

Damian’s eyes blaze with frustration as he jerks away from Bruce’s touch. “How can you say that? They’re in danger because I didn’t see it coming!”

Bruce’s expression melts, mouth pressed in a concealed white-hot wrath. “It’s not about blaming anyone. What matters now is what we do next.”

“Alright.” Jason grabs his gun and starts loading it with a series of sharp clicks. He slides it into his holster and looks up. “Let’s say we find a connection. What’s the plan? Do we confront her directly or set a trap for the Spider?”

Bruce moves to the Batcomputer, slipping his cowl back on. “We can’t rush into anything. We need concrete evidence first. Confronting Y/N without it could put her in danger and jeopardize our position.”

He turns to Damian, a silent exchange passing between them. 

Damian, on the edge of adulthood and just a step away from graduation, is nearly a carbon copy of his father—save for his far tanner skin and hooked nose. His deep-set eyes are shadowy pools that seem to contain entire worlds, while dark, inky waves of hair tumble over his forehead. His broad shoulders are as solid and sculpted as marble.

“For now, you’ll keep a close watch on her. Protect her if you need to.”

Damian strides toward the Batcomputer, his cape trailing behind him. He dislodges his Batarang with a deft flick, expression set in stone

"Of course."

 ༻⊰───⋅

Friday, 12:35 AM - The Safehouse, Gotham City.

The door groaned loudly as you pushed it open, its hinges protesting against the late hour. The dim light from the multiple screens flickered as you stepped inside, casting long shadows across the cluttered room.

With a weary sigh, you uncloaked, and your suit shimmered as it dissolved into nanotech, reforming into your glasses and belt. Sweat clung to your forehead as you ruffled your damp hair, trying to shake off the lingering adrenaline. You removed the glasses with a swift motion, tossing them onto a nearby table cluttered with papers and gadgets.

Morgan looked up from her workstation, her eyes reflecting the soft glow of multiple screens. Various tabs and data streams flickered across her monitors. 

"Sup. Doing research?" you asked, your voice hoarse from the night’s exertions.

Morgan’s grin widened, though she tried to hide it behind a bite of her lip. "You... could say that."

You slumped into a nearby chair, raising an eyebrow at her. Morgan leaned back, her fingers drumming rhythmically on the armrest. "That was one hell of a debut. The media is already all over it. They’re calling you the ‘Nightcrawler.’”

"‘Nightcrawler’?” you repeated with a grimace. “Not exactly... friendly. I preferred Spidey.”

“Are you kidding me? That’s badass!” Morgan grinned, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. She wheeled back to her desk, snatching a remote and pointing it at the large screen mounted on the wall. The screen flickered to life, and news footage of the event burst onto the display.

As the video played, Morgan leaned closer to the screen “See? They’re eating it up. ‘Nightcrawler’ has a nice ring to it. It’s got mystery, it’s got edge—”

"Oh my god. I’ve turned into the stereotype."

“What stereotype?” 

“The emo Gotham hero stereotype,” you groaned, slouching further into the chair. “Dark, brooding, with a name like Nightcrawler. It’s like I’m fitting into every cliché.”

"Clichés are just classic for a reason!"

Morgan flashed a screen, and an image appeared: you—Nightcrawler—perched on a rooftop, the scene drenched in shadows. The red of your suit bled into the darkness. Your hood was drawn low, obscuring your face, while the city lights below flickered like distant stars in the void.

You squinted at the screen, oddly flattered. "Well... I guess if villains are scared, they’re paying attention. Strike fear into their hearts and all.”

“Exactly,” Morgan said with a nod. “Hell. There are even edits of you on TikTok now!”

"..."

"..."

"...You cannot be serious," you paused, trying to wrap your head around it. “TikTok? Really?”

“Yup!” Morgan’s grin widened as she glanced at her phone, swiped through her feed, and tapped on the tag #NightcrawlerEdits. She then turned the screen toward you, excitement practically bursting out of her.

Clips of your rooftop swings, dramatic landings, and quick takedowns looped across the screen, set to raunchy music and flashy edits.

You watched in shock and slight embarrassment. "Oh.my.god."

Morgan’s excitement only grew as she pulled up another video. This time, the video was a velocity edit. It featured you throwing your head back, straining against a helicopter's weight while Vicki clung to your neck. Your biceps were prominently flexed, and the background whizzed by in a blur of motion and color.

The accompanying song blasted, with the lyrics:

Push me down, hold me down Spit in my mouth while you turn me on I wanna take your light inside Dim me down, snuff me out Hands on my neck while you push it out And I'm screamin' out

Morgan burst into laughter, practically rolling on the floor. 

“This is my favorite one,” she said, her eyes sparkling with tears.

“Oh my god, stop! I do not need to see my own fucking thirst trap!” you groaned, quickly pausing the video. You turned away, face burning hotter than Metropolis's sun, and stared at the graffiti on the wall across from you.

You covered your face with your hands, groaning in embarrassment. “This is not how I pictured my debut.”

Morgan, still laughing her ass off, was clearly unfazed. She scrolled through the comments, her grin spreading even wider.

“You’ve gotta hear these,” she said, her voice barely containing her amusement. She began reading aloud, each comment more deranged than the last.

estellea @ abcdfuckyou・1hr

vicki lucky af. I’d be clinging on too if I were her

jennyjay @ metroboomingpolis・30m

someone give me a ticket to Gotham so I can throw myself off a building and let Nightcrawler save me. no cap 🧢

harry 🐾☕️ @ blehhidc ・1hr

going to become a villain rn. pls choke slam me into Arkham.

ji ─ nightcrawlers #1 fan @ nightcrawler_updates・1hr

i want nightcrawler to smash that helicopter on my tits

Of course, there were the occasional snarky comments but they were buried under an avalanche of over-the-top reactions and sheer, unrestrained heat.

“Hooooly shit!” Morgan howled with laughter. “This one called you mommy long legs─!”

"Morgan!" You cringed, peeking through your fingers. "Stop! I can't believe this shit. They turned my life-threatening mission into a fucking thirst trap.”

Morgan could barely catch her breath between laughs. 

“Alright, alright. Enough,” you said, snatching her phone away. “Enough with the thirst traps! Let’s get back to work!”

Morgan’s laughter died down as she moved back to her spot at the computer, still grinning. “Whatever you say, Mommy Long Legs.”

You rolled your eyes and began to slowly pull off your undershirt. Morgan glanced up, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she maneuvered a robotic arm from the workstation to scan you.

Pepper’s voice crackled through the speaker. “Injuries detected: dislocated shoulder, torn muscles in back and bicep, a cut on the cheek, and minor abrasions.”

The robotic arm paused. “Recommendations: immediate treatment for the shoulder and muscle tears; clean and treat minor cuts to avoid infection. Rest and recovery are essential.”

“More injuries?” Morgan fake gasped, rising from her chair. She gave your forehead a playful tap with her knuckles. “What’s going on in that head of yours? It’s like you’re a magnet for trouble.”

“It’s not my fault!” you shot back, gesturing wildly. “You try catching a helicopter with one hand while some shitty reporter tries to interview you midair!”

Morgan just rolled her eyes. Quick on her feet, she approached the medical cabinet and gathered supplies. The room filled with a soft hum as a bunch of robotic arms whirred to life, their sleek forms extending and positioning themselves around you.

“Alright, superhero, let's get you your fix.”

One of the robotic arms gently secured your dislocated shoulder. Morgan adjusted its settings on a nearby console, her fingers moving deftly over the controls.

“You really need to stop making my job so interesting,” she muttered.

“You’d die of boredom otherwise,” you retorted, wincing as the arm held your shoulder in place. The brief, sharp pain of your bone realigning quickly faded as the shoulder was set back into position.

The remaining robotic arms moved in to treat your muscle tears. They applied a soothing gel and began a methodical massage, easing the inflamed muscles with each gentle stroke.

Morgan glanced up from the control panel, still adjusting the final settings. “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

“You don’t get paid,” you say dryly.

“True,” she replies with a smirk, “but keeping you in one piece is its own reward.”

You raised an eyebrow. The tips of Morgan’s ears turned red and she cleared her throat awkwardly.

Typing in a few final commands, she lingered a moment, glancing at you with a faintly hopeful look. “So, any plans for the rest of the day?”

“Probably just going to sleep,” you said, stifling a yawn. “Deadlifting helicopters really takes it out of you.”

Morgan’s eyes lit up with an idea. “How about coming to Gotham Academy with me?”

“Why? Ugh. Please don’t tell me you want to go to class.”

Morgan shook her head. “No, no! I know the internship has both of us excused for the month, but I need to check out some files on Octavius Burton. He used to be faculty there, and I thought it’d be a good chance for us to revisit the oh-so-magnificent halls of our beloved school.”

You cringed. “Oh my god, I do not miss that place at all.”

Morgan pursed her lips. “You might run into Damian, though.”

You pause.

You thought about it for one second, then nodded. 

“Gotham Academy it is.”

<- PREVIOUS | NEXT ->

 ༻⊰───⋅

voomba sorry for the long ass paragraphs i write shit lore

ur like a redhead magnet girlypop

[june-gdprototyping]

Why is CNC Machining Widely Used in Medical Industry?

The medical field is considered to be the one where mistakes are rare, and the same rule applies when it comes to the manufacture of medical parts, since human life is at stake in this field and even small mistakes can lead to serious health problems or even death. CNC metalworking or CNC metal machining is growing in popularity because of its ability to produce detailed and accurate results in large quantities, which has led to an increase in the number of manufacturers using CNC machines in the medical industry. Thus, the machining techniques used by machinists to produce medical parts must support tight tolerances and high-precision measurements.

Medical parts range from small components such as buttons or switches to larger parts such as monitor housings. From surgical equipments and artificial joints to components for medical pumps, CT and MRI scanners, CNC machining offers an excellent way to produce precision medical parts.

Let's take a look at the specific application of CNC processing in the medical industry. 1.Production of High Precision Medical Parts ①Implant Manufacturing Devices implanted in the human body, such as pacemakers, artificial joints (e.g., hip replacements and knee implants), and dental implants, which require a high degree of precision and biocompatibility. CNC machining centres are capable of machining complex geometries based on detailed CNC programming and achieving extremely high tolerance control, ensuring consistency and specification accuracy of parts. ②Production of Surgical Tools & Equipments Surgical tools including scalpels, scissors, complex robotic arms, etc. need to be manufactured with a high degree of precision to ensure a smooth surgical process and patient safety. CNC machining centres are capable of producing complex geometries and tight tolerances to meet the high precision requirements of surgical tools. Equipment that comes into direct contact with patients must be biosafe, easy to sterilise and regularly disinfected. CNC processing is compatible with biocompatible materials that can withstand harsh chemicals and continuous cleaning.

2.Personalised Medical Equipment Customization ①Prosthetics & Assistive Devices The CNC machining centre uses 3D scanning and CAD modelling technology to customize prosthetics and assistive devices to the patient's physical characteristics, ensuring a perfect fit and functionality of the device. This personalisation improves patient comfort and treatment outcomes. ②Orthopaedic Implants Depending on the patient's bone structure and needs, CNC machining centres can manufacture personalised orthopaedic implants for precise medical prosthetics.

3.Medical Device Prototyping Rapid prototyping is a crucial part of the medical device development process. CNC machining centres can quickly convert digital designs into physical prototypes, enabling engineers to test and refine designs in a short period of time, thus speeding up product development cycles. ①Ultrasound System Ultrasonic systems consist of a number of individual components that can be manufactured with high precision by CNC machines to help eliminate the possibility of machine failure. ②Ventilator Components The high tolerances and efficient production of medical components make CNC machining the optimum manufacturing process for devices such as respiratory components, where the success of the machine is crucial. ③Heart Rate Monitor Heart rate monitors are extremely complex devices that must meet stringent standards to eliminate the risk of failure. CNC machining ensures extremely precise manufacturing of even the most complex components.

There are many benefits to using CNC machining to manufacture a wide range of medical components and parts: 1.No Fixed Tools CNC machining is unrivalled for quick turnaround and minimal investment in small batch production or even one-off products. Parts for the medical industry must often be manufactured quickly and in small batches. At the same time, CNC metalworking allows parts to be manufactured without specialised tooling, which can lengthen the manufacturing process but provide excellent quality and accuracy even without tools.

2.No MOQ & Low Volume Manufacturing For medical devices that need to be produced in small batches, CNC machining centres are able to flexibly adjust the production plan, reduce production costs and improve production efficiency. After creating a digital CAD (Computer Aided Design) file, you can easily build a cutting programme from it at the press of a button. This coding application allows for the manufacture of individual parts or any number of parts with the highest degree of precision and accuracy. No MOQ is a huge benefit when creating one-off or disposable custom parts such as highly specialised medical devices, appliances, equipment, prosthetics and other medical or surgical products.

3.High Tolerances Many medical types of equipment require large tolerance ranges, which are easily achieved using CNC machines. Surface finish is often very good and requires minimal post-processing, saving time and money, but this is not the most important consideration. In general, the most important thing to remember about medical supplies and equipment is that they must be fit for purpose and any deviation from the standard can mean disaster.

4.Biocompatible Material Handling CNC machining centres are capable of handling a wide range of biocompatible materials including plastics, metals (e.g. titanium and stainless steel), ceramics, etc., ensuring that the material maintains its properties and biocompatibility unaffected by the machining process. This is particularly important for the manufacture of medical implants and surgical tools.

5.Automated Production & Quality Control CNC machining centres are integrated with advanced technologies such as automation and Artificial Intelligence (AI) to automate and intelligentise the production process. This reduces the variables and errors introduced by human intervention and improves productivity and product quality. Many CNC machines are equipped with in-line inspection systems that monitor process quality in real time, ensuring that the final product meets stringent medical standards.

6.Material Optimization & Cost Reduction With CNC machining, manufacturers can optimize material usage and reduce waste and costs. This is particularly important for implant production using high-value materials such as titanium and platinum.

7.Complex Geometry & Internal Structure Machining CNC machining is capable of producing complex geometries and intricate internal structures that are often difficult to achieve with other manufacturing methods. The ability to accurately carve internal cavities, channels and delicate features is particularly valuable when manufacturing implants, micro devices and surgical instruments.

8.Test and Analyse Components CNC machining creates accurate and highly repeatable components for test and analysis equipment.

In summary, the application of CNC machining in the medical device industry not only improves the precision and personalisation level of medical devices, but also accelerates the product development cycle, reduces the production cost and promotes the innovation and development of the medical device industry.

[danikamariewrites]

can i please request azriel x reader who is a brilliant inventor, she is groundbreakingly smart and she comes up with solutions quicker than anyone. She is very known and well-respected for her quick mind through all the courts and lords and courts try to recruit her for reader to be in their courts. She invents the best inventions like:

- a magical mirror that allows users to glimpse other courts and realms during the annual Starfall event, providing a unique and enchanting view of the world beyond their own.

- Enchanted gemstones that can regulate temperature and create pleasant, cool microclimates within Summer Court, making the sweltering summer season more bearable.

- Quills imbued with the magic of the Night Court, which write in a language only decipherable by those who have undergone the Night Court’s trials, ensuring secret communication.

- Cloaks made from enchanted materials that can protect wearers from various magical and physical threats in the dangerous world of Prythian.

- Mechanical attachments for Illyrian warriors that temporarily enhance their flying abilities, allowing for greater maneuverability and speed during aerial combat.

she makes personal devices for the ic aswell. like gauntlets to help enhance hand-to-hand combat or magical swords, and so on❤️❤️ i’m a woman in stem so this is just amazing idead fr

Inventor 

Azriel x reader

A/n: omg anon ur brain is insane, like this is such a good idea!

Warnings: none

Walking in the house Azriel heard you humming from work room. He smiled to himself as he framed the door open. You were sat at your desk working on your latest invention.

Azriel loved your brain. It is a vast, endless sea of ideas and knowledge. Each creation a new unique wave flowing from you. You grew up on the continent and attended a school that encouraged creativity. Once you moved to the Night Court you made a name for yourself.

Every court wanted you to solve their problems or help create something for agriculture or to consult on new medical technology. And of course you’d help. You’d never want anyone to suffer. Once you told Azriel that inventing things to help people, big or small, made you unbelievably happy.

Azriel walked up behind you placing a kiss on the back of your head. You turn to face him and Az jumps, not expecting your giant magnified eyes. Removing your goggles you smile up at your mate. “Hi babe, how was your day?”

“It was good. What are you working?” He asks looking down at what you are currently tinkering on. “Oh, it’s a small light for Nesta. It can attach to her book so she can read in bed without bother Cassian.” You said with a giggle. Azriel rolled his eyes at his brothers childish complaints.

“If this one works I’m going to make ones for Gwyn and Em too. This is the third prototype, I can’t seem to get the button right so fingers crossed it works.” You pick up the small light and click the button.

The small, but bright light illuminates your work space. Your lips break out into a wide grin. As you hold up the light Azriel smiles at you. “That’s amazing my love! Excellent job, Nesta is going to love it.”

Turning it off you set the book light down. “I’m going to get a box for this, will you fly me to the House of Wind so I can give it to Nes?” “Of course love. I’ll wait here for you.” You kissed his cheek and hurried out of your work room.

He looked around in awe of everything hanging or on shelves in the room. Azriel always prided himself on knowing what was knew or what you made improvements on. It was a fun game for him.

Your voice broke him from his thoughts as you tugged him out of the room. Your excitement to deliver something so small to your friend infectious.

[impossiblesuitcase]

Progeny

Dr. Erland does not die of Letumosis. When the dust of the revolution settles, he must navigate his relationship with Cress and learn how to be—not just her father—but her friend.

Dr. Dimitri Erland was not Dimitri Erland at all. He was a husk of man; his sanity ravaged, memory, sense, morality all lost to the decaying recesses of his mind. 

The mind of a brilliant scientist. The mind of a senile old man.

He remembered Logan Tanner, the head doctor at the Artemisian Medical Centre. Ever sharp, always well-spoken. Never that chummy with any of the other prominent doctors. Eyes perpetually set on galaxies far beyond their rock. He remembered seizing Logan by his collar, slamming him against the wall of an alleyway and demanding the location of Princess Selene. That man hadn’t been Logan at all. A limp rag doll lost to Lunar sickness, the creature inhabiting his body something inhuman.

Dimitri had never imagined himself becoming that way, but as he wrestled against restraints in a bed in the hospital wing of the Lunar palace, he began to understand why Logan took his own life.

He had managed to keep the visions at bay for years. But when he heard that his Crescent Moon had been stabbed, was half dead, all threads of sanity snapped.

He couldn’t forgive himself. He should die, not her. He hadn’t even mustered up the courage to tell her the truth. To tell her how much he loved her.

Dimitri existed in a daze. Emperor Kai visited him once, silent, hair unruly and eyes circled by the deep purple bags. His queen visited later, clutching her wound with a grimace, casting a worried gaze over his form. She told him that they were developing a prototype of Linh Garan’s device and that he would be one of the first recipients. We can fix you, she assured him.

Weeks or months or millenniums passed before he was informed by a chipper nurse that he would receive the device that afternoon.

Not long after she had left, the door cracked open. He wanted to ask for water, but these days any attempt at speech usually came out as a drunken slur, rambled and incoherent even to his own ears. 

It was not the nurse. Cress came to his bedside, hovering at a distance. Her brow was creased. She looked pale, a little gaunt. But she was alive.

Seeing him conscious, she gulped. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I…I heard you were unwell.”

Dimitri’s fingers twitched, desperate to reach for her but unable. Restrained by the bonds, and his own conscience.

Cress produced a flower from her coat pocket. It was a soft pink. He had no idea of its name. “These made me feel better when I was recovering. I thought it might help you too.” 

She set the flower on his bedside table, gazing at it, and for the first time in weeks, he truly spoke. 

“...Why?”

She jumped, startled eyes landing on him. “Wh–why what?”

“Why would you bring me this? Why do you care?” His voice was gravelly, barely comprehensible, as though wolfen soldiers had run their claws down his throat.

Her head tilted to the side as she thought. “I’m not sure. I know you did a lot of bad things, but I also know it took you a lot of courage to help Cinder. I think…you are a good man, with all you did for her.”

I didn’t do it for her, I did it for you.

She allowed a small smile. “She told me that you had a daughter, a shell, like me. And that you wanted to save her but couldn’t. I always dreamed that my parents missed me. I don’t think that anymore but…it’s nice to know that some people did care about us shells.”

Gratitude coloured her sky-blue eyes. With a final nod, she turned and began walking back to the door.

“Everything I did,” he wheezed, “was for you.”

She froze, glancing over her shoulder. “Uh—yes,” was her uncertain reply. “For us shells. Thank you.”

“No. Not for the shells. For you. My girl. My Crescent Moon.”

Cress bristled, something harsh invading her soft features. “How do you know my full name?”

All breath left his lungs. “Because I named you.”

———

It was confounding—not realising how blind you have been until your sight has been returned to you. As the device took fast effect, Dimitri now understood that he had been mad for many years. With this fresh clarity of mind he could recognise the gravity of what he had done.

Cress wouldn’t look him in the eyes. Cinder insisted that she was merely in shock and simply needed time to come to terms with this revelation. To expedite that process, she assigned him to join the Rampion Crew in distributing the Letumosis antidote to the American Republic. His medical expertise and knowledge of the disease would be crucial to eradicating it as soon as practicable. Being in close quarters with his reluctant daughter was simply an unfortunate side effect.

The first few weeks on board were awkward to say the least. Dimitri kept himself cooped up in his room most of the time, researching and writing, sharing his findings with the heads of Letumosis research across Earth—most of them old friends. They were understandably hesitant, knowing now of his deception all these years. But they needed his help and they didn’t have the luxury to not accept it.

Cress busied herself spending time with Miss Benoit, Mr Kesley, and of course, her boyfriend. For all his disdain for the young cad, Dimitri acknowledged that he was the captain of the ship, and in that, he would not question his lead.

As a beau to his daughter, his opinion had not changed.

Meals were the worst. Friendly comradery, joking and smiles. At some point, a gaze would unintentionally fall onto him, having forgotten that he was there to begin with, and their smiles would falter.

He began eating in his room. It was during one such meal that he heard a knock on his door. 

“Can I come in?”

Dimitri said nothing, yet Carswell Thorne entered all the same. “Hey Doc. Finished eating?”

“No, but does it matter?” grumbled Dimitri, already nettled by the boy’s overly casual address.

Carswell was undeterred. “I have a request for you for the next antidote run.”

He raised an eyebrow. Dimitri was the researcher. He hadn’t yet done much else.

“We’ve got to deliver the antidote by 10:00. But we’re also slated to pick up supplies for the ship at the same time. We need someone to go receive the order. Scarlet, Wolf and I are probably better suited to hauling antidote crates off the ship, so I was hoping you two would be willing to meet with the vendor for us.”

“Us two?”

“You and Cress.”

Dimitri sat up in his chair. “What? Have you told her this?”

He scoffed. “Obviously. Aces, do you think I go around forcing Cress into things without her permission? I’m not that bad of a boyfriend.”

Dimitri dropped his knife onto his plate with a clang. “If she agreed to it…”

Carswell sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Listen, Doctor, I have to respect you. You haven’t put pressure on Cress. I appreciate that. But one of you has got to fill this awful chasm between you. You both seem to deal with confrontation in the exact same way: avoiding it entirely.” He chuckled. “Must be a genetic trait.”

For Cress to be anything like him was a simultaneous bloom of hope and a dagger to his chest.

“The way I see it, if you don’t start trying to patch things up now, you’ll never have a relationship. You don’t want that, do you?”

“I want her to be happy.”

“So do I. But Cress seems to interpret the space you’re giving her as rejection, regardless of how I reason with her.” He huffed, but there was fondness laced through it. “She always wanted parents who cared about her. Show her that you do, and then she might start to believe it.”

Dimitri scrutinised the Captain, searching for complacency or condescension on his face. He could only detect sincerity.

“You love my daughter, don’t you?”

“I do.”

He knew it was true. Whenever Cress complained of pain around her stab wound, a stormy expression clouded Carswell’s face. Dimitri may not entirely trust the boy, but this he knew was fact.

He sighed. “I’ll go with her. But I won’t push her.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“Then what do you want me to do?”

Carswell moved away from the doorframe, shrugging. “Try to be her friend.”

He sauntered away, appearing so confident he seemed eons older than Dimitri. For the first time, the doctor felt a flicker of begrudging respect for him.

If the Captain had succeeded in winning his daughter’s heart, perhaps Dimitri could learn something from him.

———

Dimitri had no idea what to say to Cress as they met with the vendor. Fortunately, she seemed to have endless questions prepared for him.

“Where did you grow up?” “Who were your parents?” “Did you have any siblings?” These were simple, safe questions, but as she broached into “Who is my mother?” and “What work did you do for the queen?” his responses veered into shameful territory.

Noting his hesitation, she said, “You don’t have to tell me.”

“No. There should be no secrets between us. Your mother is also a scientist. I believe she’s still alive.”

Her gaze was thoughtful as she approached the next storage crate. With their limited stature they both had to lean on their toes to peer inside. “Should we tell her that we’re both alive?”

Dimitri sighed, scratching his brow. “I don’t believe that would be wise, Crescent. She…she didn’t want you. The moment she discovered you were a shell she…” his mouth grew heavy with salvia, “she wanted you dead.”

Cress began to nod slowly. “Will you go back to her?”

“No. After you were born, I could never look at her the same way again. Every time she smiled at me, all I could see was her revulsion when she handed you over to Sybil.” He exhaled shakily. “I did love her, but I could have never loved her more than you.”

Cress was silent, busy marking items off the list, but her hands were trembling around the portscreen. “It’s okay. When I was in the dormitories, I contacted the parents of one of the shells with me, a boy named Julian. But they didn’t want him back. I suppose I’m lucky that I had at least one parent that wanted me.” 

When she smiled at him, his heart pounded.

It was once they had approved the order and begun the walk back to the Rampion that he ventured to ask his first question. “How did you grow up? You must tell me, please, what Sybil did to you.”

Cress did. She told him of her childhood, how she discovered her talent with electronics, her years in the satellite and her trek through the desert. Her eyes sparkled as she recounted falling in love with Carswell. She shamefully admitted her role in fueling Levana’s power.

“That was not your fault, Crescent.”

“I was her programmer,” Cress resisted. “I could have pretended that it wasn’t possible to spy on Earth. She would have never had the upper hand.”

“Yes, she would have,” he corrected. “Cress, I knew her. Nothing would have stopped her. All you did, you did to survive.”

She shook her head, eyes glassy. “So many lives were lost, and I was a part of the equation.”

Dimitri knew he should do something, say something assuring, but words would not reach through her guilt. And then, without second-guessing it, he gingerly laid a hand on her shoulder.

She blinked at him but did not pull away. 

“I created the mutant Lunar soldiers. I understand what you’re feeling.”

He admitted to her all his wrongdoing and she listened. His deeds of horror didn’t draw her away from him, rather, she asked more and more questions, all the way until they reached the Rampion’s docking hatch. She of course became distracted by Carswell and the others, and before they knew it, lunch and unpacking and dinner had passed and all parties were off in their rooms preparing for bed without the pair having ever formally finished their conversation.

It was a start, a great start. Dimitri repeated this as he trudged down the hallway to the bathroom.

“He’s done a lot of bad things,” he heard Cress say. His feet stalled beneath him. “But he has a good heart.”

The voice slipped through the crack of Miss Benoit’s door. “Well that’s good. Bad things can be made up for, but it’s difficult to fix a rotten heart,” said Scarlet.

Cress sniffled. “I know. It’s just—it’s still strange to have a father.”

He heard the rustle of bedsheets and imagined Scarlet taking Cress into her arms. “Trust me, Cress—there’s far worse fathers to have.”

———

Now, instead of tiptoeing around each other, Dimitri and Cress reached a comfortable understanding. Their conversations—although still sparse—grew more frequent by the day. Dimitri noticed a general improvement in his mood, a gentler lean of his speech. Even the other members of the crew had begun to fold him into their moments of revelry.

It was in one such moment that these bonds were tested.

Cress lay her hand of cards on the table. “And I win.”

All at the table groaned as Cress bested them for the fourth time. 

“How?!” Scarlet whined. “You have disproportionate luck.”

“I have the luck,” Carswell grumbled, dejectedly resting his head on his forearm. “I think she stole it.”

Cress giggled.

Dimitri straightened his cards into a uniform stack. He hadn’t won, though he was in the running for it if he had used some of his old tricks. Then he’d seen the glint in Cress’s eyes and knew with certainty that she was playing them all.

When Carswell delivered her a particularly petulant scowl, Cress held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, I won’t play the next round. Give your luck a shot.”

Carswell stuck out his tongue at her and gathered up everyone’s cards. The round proceeded as usual; Carswell’s smack talk, Scarlet’s serious look of concentration, Wolf barely paying attention, too busy idly twisting his fingers around her curls. Dimitri had an average hand, nothing special, but it was the perfect candidate for one of those old bluffs he had learnt back in his days on Luna. He and some of his fellow doctors used to play poker or blackjack; some would even bet using the money they earned from performing plastic surgeries for thaumaturges and Artemisian hopefuls.

Cress caught his eye. His mouth turned up on one side. She smirked.

When Dimitri won the round, the groans were even louder.

“Are you both cheating? I’m pretty sure you’re cheating,” Scarlet complained.

“It’s not cheating, it’s strategy,” Dimitri and Cress said in unison. Their gazes flickered together with some surprise.

Scarlet thrust her cards away from her. “Oh who cares, anyway?”

“I do!” Carswell cried.

Cress rested her head against his arm, smiling up at him. “Captain, you know you’re still better than me at poker. But statistically, I have to win sometimes.”

He pouted. “You’re already a genius. This was one thing I could claim! Now what do I have to offer you?”

“Your love and affection?”

Wolf, Scarlet and Dimitri all stood at once as if sensing the tender moment and wanting to get out before things got gushy. 

“I’ll start on dinner,” she announced. “Wolf, you’re on chopping duty.”

Wolf trailed after her like a loyal puppy. Knowing that following them would lead to another equally romantic and uncomfortable situation, Dimitri rerouted to the hallway, catching the last tendrils of Cress and the Captain’s conversation as he went.

“It’s not just you. The Doctor beat me too! It’s like you’ve both got something against me.”

With a laugh, Cress said, “I guess it must be the family curse.”

———

“Is that all that’s left?” Wolf asked as he began hauling a crate of antidote up the ramp of the ship.

Cress checked her portscreen. “Looks like it. Only eleven crates were assigned to us.”

Scarlet, who was shifting the crates into a neat row, frowned. “That’s a lot less than our normal pickup. Are they running out of antidote?”

Carswell charged onboard, rubbing his hands together. “That’s Cinder’s problem. Let’s bounce, people. We gotta get a move-on if we want to make it to the Cali’s New Year’s fireworks tomorrow.”

Dimitri, scanning over the figures on the antidote allotment order, was not so quick to shrug off this irregularity. It was less stock than normal, and judging by the scheduled deliveries over the next month, they would only just manage to have enough.

He commed his queen that evening.

Cinder sighed over the link. “We’re running out. There’s still so much demand for it on Earth and Luna, and with the synthetic version still only in the developmental stage, our supply is dwindling.”

“Can you not enlist more shells to supply the ingredients for the standard antidote in the meantime?” Dimitri suggested.

“We have. Some of them have agreed, but most of the shells aren’t willing to donate. Most of them are only kids, you know.”

He clucked his tongue. “Then perhaps they are too young to understand what’s at stake.”

Cinder asked him to think over some alternative solutions and to get back to her with a response. Over the next weeks, Dimitri made this his sole topic of study.

They were about to land in Miami when Cress peered into the empty crates with worry. “I hope we’ll have enough left.”

Dimitri was alone with her in the dock, fishing through a new shipment of medical supplies. He looked up. “Enough for today, yes. For our entire planned run? Difficult to say.”

Cress twiddled her thumbs. “I can’t stand the thought of leaving without curing everyone.”

He sighed. “Until we fix the supply issue—”

“What supply issue?”

He blinked. He supposed he hadn’t made the others privy to his research. “Luna is running out of the antidote.”

She leant her back on a crate. “I thought they were manufacturing the synthetic antidote now.”

“It’s still only in the developmental stage. All we have is what was manufactured under Levana’s reign. Cinder has asked me to come up with a strategy to manage the limited supply.”

Cress smiled at him hopefully. “So…what have you got?”

He swallowed, pulling a diagnostic monitor from the box. It was a thin bracelet that could determine oxygen levels, blood pressure and heart rate. He slipped it around his wrist. “Well unfortunately it seems the only way we could manufacture more antidote right now is if we extracted samples from ungifted Lunars.”

Her smile fell. “Oh. Are there not enough volunteers?”

“Virtually none. Most shells are unwilling to donate samples.” 

“Of course. We’ve been test subjects our whole lives. It’s hard to trust that they wouldn’t just lock us away again.” 

He pursed his lips.

She lifted off the crate and sighed. “Well, I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”

As she left the bay, the monitor beeped. He checked the reading. Heart rate 91bpm—higher than normal. He wondered if that was why he felt bizarrely nervous.

———

“Doctor, could I borrow your port? The overseer wants the antidote clearance code and Thorne took my port to comm Scarlet.”

“Of course, Cress,” said Dimitri, unclipping it from his belt and handing it over. Usually their job was to deliver the antidote crates and let the local authorities administer it. But the breakout here was so severe that the victims were waiting by the ship. The line spanned half the block, people coughing, crying, some slumped on the ground in a heap. Carswell had given Wolf and Scarlet the day off to explore Miami, but with the unexpected workload, he was trying to hail them back.

Dimitri took four vials and approached a young sickly boy in the front of the line.

“Hello there. I have something for you.”

He held out the vial to the boy, but when he was too weak to grasp it, Dimitri placed the vial at his lips and coaxed it down. The boy began choking on the liquid. Though Dimitri tried to force him to swallow it, the boy shoved away from him.

“You need to drink all of it, son,” he advised.

The boy shook resistantly, whipping his head away each time Dimitri steered the vial back to him.

After several minutes of struggling, he sighed and discarded the vial. “I can only hope that was sufficient.”

He proceeded down the line over the next hour. Carswell and Cress unpacked the antidote and passed it to him as he went. Scarlet and Wolf reappeared by the end and helped with the final stragglers.

Finally, they boarded their ship, near ready to drop dead into sleep. Dimitri only managed to prop himself up in a chair before he felt his eyelids flutter shut.

“Doctor.”

He peeled his eyes open. Cress was standing in front of him. Her hands were locked around his port.

“Ah, thank you,” he murmured, reaching a hand out to retrieve it.

Her expression was enigmatic but eclipsed with iciness. “What is this?”

She flicked on the screen and showed it to him. Once his eyes adjusted to the glare of the light, he read the title and paused.

“Well?”

“It’s, um”—he coughed—“it’s my findings in the project her Majesty requested me to research.”

“I read it.”

His face darkened. “It wasn’t yours to read.”

“I thought there were no secrets between us,” she said coldly.

She snatched the port back to herself, scrolling up and reading aloud a phrase, “I advise that the only means possible of maintaining a sufficient antidote supply is to legally enforce the retrieval of samples from ungifted Lunars, irrespective of their personal feelings and consent.”

Her voice spoke the words with a greater vitriol than he’d ever heard from her.

“Yes—well—”

“You want to steal their blood? Force them to volunteer?”

Her glare was poison. His lungs twitched.

“Crescent, I understand the ethical ambiguity—”

“Ambiguity? What’s not clear?” She thrust the port towards him. “That was perfectly clear to me. You just want to use us shells as lab rats.”

Dimitri pushed back into the chair. “Crescent. I can appreciate your apprehension. But they are mere children. They do not comprehend the gravity of the matter. Millions could die if we do not obtain enough antidote.”

“They were stolen from their families! Forced into suspension tanks. They had their whole lives stolen from them! And you think they’re being unreasonable?”

His breath hitched. “...Their momentary discomfort is an unfortunate sacrifice to made for the greater good.”

She scoffed, dropping the port in his lap. “Of course you’d see it that way. Taking the Lunar boys and turning them into soldiers. Killing cyborgs so you could find your princess. Did you ever think of their feelings?”

“I have hated every sacrifice I have had to make, but in the long term—”

“What about me?” Her eyes were glassy, her voice frantic. “Should I expect a comm saying I’m being shipped back to Luna next week to be harvested too?”

“No, of course not, you—”

She fisted her hands on her hips. “Oh, I get an exemption because you care about me, unlike the other shells?”

“Cress, I—”

“I told you how I felt about this,” she said, voice quivering. “You say you care about me but you don’t.”

He shot up. “Crescent, you know I care about you.”

She bit her lip, shaking her head slowly. “No. I thought you were better than this. But you’re still the same thief from Farafrah that bought me like I was livestock.”

Before his trembling lips could form a reply, she left.

Dimitri’s heart was tearing out of his ribcage, threatening to burst through his skin. Every sneer, every accusation replayed in his wretched mind on an endless loop. Still, his own indignation eclipsed the feeling.

He hated how he had made his daughter feel. And yet his mind was still not swayed. He hadn’t even had the opportunity to revise his assessment, yet he sent it to Cinder immediately. 

If he had learnt anything in his lifetime, it was that sacrifices had to be made.

Cinder sent back a response mere minutes later. No, I’m not going to force shells to donate their samples against their will. Are you crazy?!

———

It had been tolerable when the Rampion Crew ignored him. Now they avoided him and it was excruciating.

Cress had obviously told them of their argument, and it was clear whose side they were on. Wolf, who never spoke to Dimitri anyway, maintained his silence. Scarlet cast him severe looks. Carswell was the only one still to speak to him, but always curtly. Worse, he seemed disappointed in him.

And then there was Cress. Each time they crossed paths hurt and resentment flashed in her eyes.

It was beginning to dawn on him how gravely he had misstepped. The chasm Carswell had mentioned had split down the middle, torn apart by tectonic plates so deep that any hope of salvaging their relationship was burnt in the fire of Earth’s core.

Cinder imposed upon him the responsibility of finding an acceptable solution to the antidote crisis. His mind was so swarmed with the ramifications of his own crisis that nothing fruitful had been produced.

The ship landed in Des Moines, Iowa between antidote runs. The young ones were going to a shopping mall, intending for a ‘double date’—as they called it. Dimitri had the misfortune of requiring a new processing unit for his genetic testing module, and the only outlet with such supplies nearby was in that very same mall.

He practically melted into the seat of the hover as they pointedly ignored his presence.

Once inside the mall, they split ways. He overheard Scarlet saying something about attempting to find clothes to fit Wolf’s oversized chest and Cress instructing Carswell to go obtain snacks for the cinema.

Dimitri huffed as he followed the trail on his portscreen to the medical supplies outlet. If they were planning to watch a film it would be several hours before they intended to leave. Perhaps he could hail a hover to return him to the Rampion.

The part took no time to secure and purchase. He was already on his way to the entrance when suddenly Cress flew out of a store, her back to him.

He slowed dramatically, unwilling to overtake her and be noticed. She stalled in the middle of the busy walkway as Carswell approached her.

“Ready?” he asked, chewing through a mouthful. He didn’t notice Dimitri either.

“Yep,” she replied excitedly. “Scarlet said they would meet us out front in a few minutes. Whatcha eating?”

“Skittles,” he answered, poking out his multicoloured tongue.

She gasped. “Oh! I’ve always seen those in netdramas! Can I try some?”

He produced the bag from his pocket. She took it and glanced inside. Offence covered her face. “You barely left me any.”

He shrugged insouciantly. “No, I left the right amount.”

“What?”

He smirked. “Well you’re about a third of my size, so proportionately you would therefore be entitled to a third of what I ate.”

Indignation flared on her face. “What on Luna are you talking about?”

He braced his hands. “Hey, calm down, I’m just looking out for you—all that sugar isn’t good for your health, you know.”

Dimitri felt his own rage rise up to his temples. How dare he speak so crudely to Cress? To insult her so crassly? Oh, he’d always known that Carswell boy was a cad. He would break between the two of them and lambast the scoundrel until—

Carswell laughed heartily. “I’m messing with you, babe. Here—” He presented a second bag from his pocket. “This one’s yours.”

Dimitri’s hackles fell, adrenaline suddenly quashed.

Cress gaped at him. Then, regaining her senses, she smacked him on the arm. “Carswell!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he choked. “But you should’ve seen the look on your face.”

She rolled her eyes, but the ire had faded. “Well, you’re not getting any of this.”

“Of course not. It’s yours. Along with these.” He opened a shopping bag that was hanging from his belt, pulling out a bottled drink, a tray of doughnuts and a chocolate bar.

Cress blushed. “I’m not going to eat all of that.”

Carswell flicked her nose, slung an arm around her shoulders and led them forward. Dimitri, cemented in place, heard his fading, “Well maybe I was onto something with those portions, huh?” 

———

The next weeks were the most he’d every worked in his life. He poured every waking moment into his research, to writing and estimating and testing. With each antidote run he spent hours documenting the reactions of each patient, compiling as much data as possible into his arsenal.

Once he deemed it acceptable, he sent his new proposal to Cinder. It was underdeveloped to be sure, but he couldn’t face Cress until he’d done it.

Exhaling a sigh of relief, inhaling a breath of anxiety, he entered the cockpit bay.

She was sitting on a chair by the window, hand cupping her chin as she gazed off into the endless sea of blackness and stars. Hearing him enter, her gaze flickered towards him, and that perpetual hardness returned in full.

“May I speak to you?” he asked softly.

A beat. She nodded.

He approached her cautiously, unable to maintain eye contact. He looked at his feet. “I want to apologise to you.”

She stayed silent.

“Crescent, I know that what I did was incredibly wrong. I destroyed the faith you had in me. In truth, you never should have had that faith to begin with.” Inhale, exhale. “I have never done anything to repent for my sins of the past. I thought I was better now. I fear that I am worse. I’m so truly sorry.”

She folded her hands in her lap, face stricken.

“I do not expect you to forgive me,” he continued, “but I hope I can at least make you believe that I recognise my need to change.”

“I don’t know,” she said finally. “Maybe you’ll change once your law is passed and I get shipped back to Luna to be their blood supplier.

“There’s no law,” he rushed to say, “No shells will be forced to donate. It was wrong of me to ever consider that. I have submitted a different proposal; actually, it was inspired by your boyfriend.”

She quirked an eyebrow.

Over the past weeks, Dimitri had begun experimenting with apportioning the antidote to victims based on their age, height, gender and weight. His test groups proved that children and teenagers needed less of the antidote than adults to make a full recovery; women needed less than men; those who weighed more and were taller needed the full dose. Once he had enough evidence, he readjusted the metrics for each group and applied this to the number of remaining antidote vials. Instantly, their supply would last three months longer than initially projected.

Cress watched him carefully as he explained this. Eventually, she said, “That makes sense.”

He clutched his hands together behind his back. “I know it cannot make amends for what I did to you—”

“It’s a start,” she interrupted, sounding genuine.

Exhale. “I know I have acted wrongly my whole life. Truthfully Cress, I don’t quite understand the parameters of right and wrong. But—if you’re willing to again accept my company—would you please teach me?”

Her eyes returned to the window. Earth was edging into the corner of the glass, filling up the room with its swimming blue brightness.

“Okay. But you have to promise me something.”

A former Dimitri—the doctor, the mentor, the wise man—would have hesitated, but he was now a student. He would be teachable.

“Anything.”

Glimmers of a smile, the first directed to him in so long, crept up to her lips. “Promise to stop viewing me as the baby you lost sixteen years ago, and start viewing me as a person.”

Inhale. “I will.”

———

It took time for their interactions to evolve from nonexistent to tense, from manageable to cordial. The more and more Dimitri learnt about Cress, the more he mourned not knowing. He mourned not having the opportunity to raise her, to hold her hand as she walked for the first time, to drop her off and pick her up from school every day. But Cress had made him promise not to dwell on that. So for the first time, he took her in as the person she’d become.

Without his or anybody’s help, Crescent had raised herself to be a remarkable young woman.

Every new thing he learnt about her was greater than any scientific discovery he could have made. She was a genius, which was no surprise given her pedigree. But she had taught herself everything. To read. To write. To hack. She was an optimist and a daydreamer. She was a loyal friend. She had her share of weaknesses too, but they were only those common to mankind.

When he stumbled upon her in the galley, he learnt that she could sing.

No, not sing. Her voice soared, sweet as honeysuckle and clear as a trickling fountain. His little songbird.

She was standing by the bench, assembling a sandwich—to her an ordinarily mundane task. To him, it was a moment of reverence.

The words slipped out unprompted. “Your voice is beautiful.” 

Cress peered over her shoulder, and for once, she didn’t seem startled to see him. “Thank you.” And then, after a pause, “Did I get that from you?”

He barked out a laugh. “Certainly not.” Then his memory stirred. “But my sister had a voice like yours. She’s still alive. She has children—your cousins—and some of them have children around your age. I could…I could take you to meet them all one day if you’d like.”

Her smile was beatific.

Being a student of Cress was more challenging than all his years of medical school. Stripping back years of his own thinking and reasoning on matters was more than difficult—near impossible. He resented the thought he harboured deep inside that he could never change. But even worse was the niggling sentiment lurking in his chest, asserting that he was older, wiser and shouldn’t listen to a mere child.

With the unofficial ban on associating with him lifted, the crew tentatively reintroduced him to their activities. He regained trust to the point that when he assured them that he could handle a small antidote delivery on his own, they believed him and jetted off in the podships to the mountains for the weekend. 

The outbreak in Seattle was the worst he’d ever seen. Where in most places the line of victims was able to stand, these victims were all sprawled on the floor, shivering and drooling, with more blisters than actual skin.

“Why haven’t they been brought the antidote sooner?” Dimitri asked the overseer, aghast.

“We had been promised the leftovers from the outbreak in Tacoma. Then they had a surprise wave and used up all their supply. That’s when we called on you.”

Dimitri administered the antidote to as many people as he could, the rest distributed by the Seattle team. It was gratifying to see the light returning in the eyes of the victims. It was not enough to shake the sense of failure when two men—one in his thirties, one elderly—didn’t make it.

With a grim nod to the overseer, he stepped into a hover and programmed the address of the Rampion to the guiding system.

He checked his portscreen. Cress had sent him a photo of the four of them overlooking a sheer cliff.  They were all smiling, sweaty with exertion.

Half an hour into his trip, his port pinged with a comm from the Seattle overseer.

We’ve had 40 more Letumosis victims brought to the quarantines. Can you come back with additional antidote?

Dimitri reread the comm at least five times.

He was due in Portland in only a few hours time for a large delivery. The number of victims there was reported to have risen exponentially in only the last two days alone. But that was only this morning’s estimate. He had approximately 300 vials of antidote left. The victims there had been sicker for longer than these forty new cases. There wasn’t enough time for both.

His initial reply halted on his fingertips as the image of the light leaving the eyes of those two, withered men flashed across his vision.

Dimitri set up a voice comm to Cress. It bounced back. This portscreen is currently out of range.

He didn’t know how to trust his judgement anymore. But right now, he had no one else but himself.

He commanded the hover to stop. He thought and thought and thought for a good fifteen minutes. Then he sent his comm and directed the hover to his destination.

———

He met the others back at the ship. They returned glowing red and panting but exhilarated.

“It was amazing,” Scarlet sighed. “I wish we could’ve stayed for longer.”

“Not when we got a delivery in an hour,” Carswell said with an affected responsibility in his voice. “Unless we teach the doctor to fly and get him to do all the runs for us.”

Wolf was the only one who seemed impervious to the exhaustion of the hike. He read Dimitri’s face with concern. “What’s wrong?”

Cress, flanking Carswell and sipping from a water bottle, glanced at him curiously.

Dimitri rubbed his brow. “After I left Seattle, they commed saying additional victims had arrived and needed the antidote. I did not believe that we would have enough for them as well as for our upcoming delivery.”

“What did you do?” Cress asked quietly.

Dimitri took a seat, shrinking down. Voicing aloud his decision was nearly as hard as it had been to make it. “I…I knew we would need the antidote for Portland. We already have limited supply and we have no idea what state they’re in. So I—I rejected their request.”

“So what?” Scarlet accused, “You’re going to leave them until we get more antidote in a month’s time and those people are already dead?”

“I sent another supplier a comm requesting assistance. They promised to travel there by Monday.”

Scarlet softened. “Oh.”

“I can only hope the supplies make it there soon. They already had two people die this morning.”

Carswell shook his head, frustrated with himself. “We should’ve stayed and helped you.”

“No,” he dismissed, “there was already no hope for them.”

The silence in the bay was dense and heavy on his shoulders. The corpses still felt fresh on his fingertips. “I know it may not have been right. I tried to contact you, but I couldn’t. I had to make a decision.”

The others nodded assent and soon all were preparing for takeoff, the happy morning coloured sombre. Dimitri felt responsible for it.

And then as the ship was rising shakily into the air he felt a hand on his shoulder. Glancing back, he saw Cress standing behind him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. She was here to tell him what she would have done in this scenario, he guessed. Flashes of their previous argument clung to him; her anger, her disappointment. To have disappointed her again was a blow worse than insanity. 

But instead, she spoke, voice even and clear, “No. You made the right decision.”

———

Cinder commed him occasionally, asking him for advice and updating him on the gradual improvements to Luna. One day, she sent him a different comm.

He had a new assignment—to study the wolfen soldiers he himself had created and see if he could reverse the transformation.

It was optimistic at best, completely impossible in all probability. But he knew that he must dedicate the rest of his life to atoning for this sin.

It also meant that his tenure on the Rampion would soon expire. Being separated from Cress was a bitter taste on his tongue. So he prolonged his stay, asking Mr Kesley if he would be a temporary participant in his research. Wolf was initially hesitant but—eager to be fully human again—he agreed.

Months of research and experiments proved fruitless. Dimitri kept trying.

He pulled out his port again, thumbing it adamantly as the screen flickered and protested. He harrumphed. Setting it down on the table, he took a moment to stretch out his complaining limbs with a groan. It was late in the afternoon, though time was tricky when a glance out the window illuminated the perpetual blackness of space.

“Are you okay?”

Cress hovered by the doorway, her hands tucked behind her back.

“I’m all right,” Dimitri replied. “Just old.”

His port chimed. He picked it up, hoping for success, but it was merely a ping for a software update. He grumbled under his breath.

“Something wrong with your port?”

“I’m trying to transfer some of my notes from old files on Luna to my current files. I believe there’s a compatibility issue, given the original files are at least thirteen years old.”

Cress tossed from one foot to another. “I could help you, if you’d like.”

“Please.”

Cress came over and hooked up her port to his, running through the analytics as the system diagnosed the problem. When the file name Human-Lupine Mutation Trial #11 appeared on her screen, she hesitated.

“Do you really think you can fix them?”

Dimitri gazed at his feet. “I don’t know. But I will keep trying. I did this to them. I must try to undo it.”

She was silent for a beat, then in a low voice: “I’m glad you’re trying.”

Her port pinged as it completed its diagnosis and she got to work. It was amazing watching her fingers work, only just able to keep up with her mind. Her face was brilliantly scrunched in concentration.

“Okay,” she chirped, detaching the plug. “It will take a while for the files to load onto your port, but now at least they will won’t fry your RAM.

He took the port as she offered it back, eyes widening as he saw the notification on the screen. Override disabled from user: Crescent Darnel.

“Darnel?” he voiced softly.

She tucked hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I, uh, updated my records. I never knew my last name. I quite like it, actually.”

“Crescent Moon Darnel.”

Cress smiled. “Crescent Moon Darnel,” she repeated.

She looked at her own port, frowned, and showed it to him. Red text on the screen read: Connection disabled from user: Sage Darnel.

“Why don’t you use your name?”

“Pardon?”

“Well, we all just call you Doctor. But Cinder calls you Dr. Erland. That was your fake name, wasn’t it?” She listed her head. “Wouldn’t you prefer to be called…Sage?”

He took off his glasses and rubbed them on the end of his shirt. “Wouldn’t your wolfen friend prefer to be called Ze’ev rather than Wolf?”

She chewed her lip.

He switched off his port. “To be honest, Cress, I don’t think I am Sage Darnel anymore. Or Dimitri Erland. I am somewhat of an amalgamation.”

Cress thought this over. “Can I call you Sage?”

“If you want to.”

Her eyes twinkled. “I do. After all, we should share a last name, right?”

Sage felt a flicker in his chest, growing warmer by the second. “Yes, yes we should.”

———

Sage ambled down the Rampion’s hallway, idly browsing through the data on his portscreen. The report came from the Health Board of Minnesota—where they had delivered the antidote last month. The distribution of the antidote had put a significant dent in the fatality rate, but the disease was still spreading prolifically. We would greatly appreciate your expert opinion, wrote the chairperson. 

The options were limited. A statewide lockdown—the logical solution, but an economic reluctance. Or to immunise the greater population—presently infeasible with the limited supply. It would be months more before such a solution could be implemented, and the question remained: could they justify the continued loss of life?

New York had already completed a lockdown period, whereas Virginia had trialled immunisation in a small pocket of the state. Sage would have to compare the data before drafting his response. He headed to the cockpit bay. As they had been in transit between Earth and Luna, the connection had been too tenuous to send directly to his port. He would have to connect his port to the Rampion's mainframe to establish the link.

The ship was quiet. Mr Kesley and Miss Benoit were watching a net drama and last he’d heard, his daughter and the captain were doing a stocktake of the shipping containers. Sage found the door to the cockpit already open and the lights off. He crossed the threshold, switching his port off and glancing up.

His feet solidified beneath him. Carswell was in the pilot’s seat with Cress tucked into his lap, his arms around her waist as the two engaged in a languid kiss. Sage held his breath, very aware that he should leave immediately and in a way that he would not be detected. The couple seemed sufficiently distracted. 

Sage stepped back. They continued to kiss. Another step. His shoe squeaked against the floor.

The couple tore apart from each other, gaping at the figure at the door.

“Uh, sorry there kids.”

Cress sprung away from Carswell. “Dad!” she shrieked. “Uh—Sage! I—we…”

Cress was positively red. Carswell was blushing a little too, but he mostly just looked amused.

Sage nodded at them and backtracked further. “I'll leave you be.”

He hastened down the hallway, allowing a cringe to cover his face. Cress’s embarrassed groans followed him, along with Carswell’s booming laughter. 

Sage couldn’t help a smile. Not at the antics of the young couple—he had only just begun to tolerate his daughter’s relationship with the ex-convict, and interrupting them mid-makeout was really testing that boundary.

He didn’t care about that. Let his daughter be giddy and romantic all she wanted. He cared more about what she had called him unintentionally, a slip of her inner thoughts.

Dad.

———

Sage returned to Luna after eight months onboard. Part of him was devastated at the thought of again being separated from his little girl, but he knew that she needed to grow on her own. On her own—with her boyfriend.

Scarlet and Wolf had already returned to their farm last week. Sage needed to return to Luna to support his queen and fulfil his assignment.

His return to Luna was also planned as an opportunity for an antidote restock, so his farewell was not overstated. They hauled the shipments onboard, shared laughs and lunch with Her Majesty, and then filed into the docking bay. 

Cinder released Cress from a hug. “Are you sure you can’t stay longer?”

Cress squeezed her hands. “I wish. The captain is a hard taskmaster.”

Carswell nodded proudly. “Yep. This shipment is due in 16 hours. No time for dilly-dallying.”

Cinder rolled her eyes and pulled him into a hug. “When did you get so responsible?”

“Cress keeps me in line.”

The three turned to Sage. Carswell approached him first. “All the best, doctor.”

Sage extended his hand. “Captain.”

They shook firmly. Sage buried his desire to warn Carswell about his conduct around Crescent. Carswell would treat her well. Sage trusted him in that.

When Carswell stepped back to Cress’s side, she tapped his arm and leaned up on her toes. He craned his neck towards her. Sage read “Give me a minute with him,” on her lips.

Carswell gave him a final nod, Cinder a wink and a playful jab to the side and sauntered up the Rampion’s dock, whistling as he went. 

Cress said nothing, eyes darting down at her feet. In his peripheral vision he saw Cinder discreetly stepping away.

Sage cleared his throat. “Take care, Cress. Stay safe.”

“You too.” She stepped forward. “Will you visit us? When we come back to pick up the antidote?”

He smiled. “Of course. I already look forward to it. I will…I will miss you greatly.”

It was the kind of statement Sage had avoided making, never wanting to pressure her or set a sense of obligation. But Cress nodded.

“I—I’ll miss you too.” She finally looked up at him, something of shame in her eyes.

“I wanted to apologise before we go. For being…hesitant. For treating you like a stranger instead of���instead of my father.”

Sage shook his head quickly. “No, Crescent, you didn’t know me. I can’t ever fault you for being distant. If anything, it’s my fault.” He shuddered. “I should have fought Sybil. I should have escaped to Earth with you the moment I discovered you were a shell.”

“I don’t think it would be that easy,” she replied, and he sighed, knowing she was right.

“But please, Cress, you are my daughter. I love you. But I will never, ever expect you to reciprocate that. All I ask”—his breath hitched—“is that we could be friends.”

Cress sniffled, eyes glistening. Suddenly she threw her arms around him, causing him to stumble off balance. “We are friends,” she whispered. “And I would like to be your daughter one day. I’d like you to be my dad one day.”

Tears sprung to his eyes. He chuckled shakily. “Thank you, my girl. Thank you.”

They separated with shared feelings and matching smiles. Because she had inherited it from him, he realised. 

Carswell slung an arm around her shoulders when she reached him on the ramp. They waved until the hatch folded up.

Cinder came up behind Sage and rested her metal hand on his shoulder. “I’m happy for you, Doctor. And I’m happy Cress has you.”

“I am too, Miss Linh.”

The Rampion roared to life and stumbled out of the dock under the Captain’s unsteady hand. Sage’s heart clenched, already aching to be away from Cress. They watched until the Rampion was no more than a distant star in the infinite black sky and the aching was supplanted with relief.

His songbird had been freed and no one could ever trap her again.

Notes

Was anyone asking for a Dr Erland fic? Not a soul. But a writer cannot deny the howls of a tale unsung.

@cindersassasin @hayleblackburn @spherical-empirical @salt-warrior @just2bubbly @gingerale2017 @slmkaider @luna-maximoff-22 @kaixiety @snozkat @mirrorballsss @skinwitch18 @bakergirl13 @wassupnye @linh-cindy @therealkaidertrash21