In the midst of the bustling activity within the special ward, a moment of startling clarity pierced the chaos. As Myra's bed was wheeled past Dylan's, his hand shot up unexpectedly, clasping hers in a tight grip. The medical personnel and healers were taken aback, their surprise evident as they attempted to make sense of the inexplicable phenomenon unfolding before their eyes.
Confusion reigned as they checked Dylan's unconscious form, perplexed by how he could maintain such a strong hold on Myra's hand despite his own state of unconsciousness. Their attempts to release his grip proved futile, his hand firmly entrenched in its grasp.
"Leave them. Just run the tests," the general commanded, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. Recognizing the urgency of the situation, the medical team resumed their duties, albeit with a sense of unease lingering in the air.
