Dr. Kate Ford's footsteps echoed softly down the sterile corridors of the ward, the polished floor reflecting the harsh overhead lights.
The antiseptic scent lingered in the air—a familiar, almost comforting reminder of the lives she touched daily. Leading her group of eager and slightly nervous interns, she imparted her wisdom, each word absorbed with keen interest.
"Alright, team," Kate said, her voice calm yet authoritative, "Today, we'll be covering the labour ward, focusing on patient care and the procedures for both natural and C-section deliveries."
Her interns nodded, a mixture of anticipation and apprehension evident on their faces. Among them were Aisha, a bright-eyed young woman, and Hugo, whose laid-back demeanour belied his dedication.
Kate led them into the labour ward, where the sounds of new life beginning and the pains of labour merged into a symphony of human experience.
The labour ward buzzed with activity. Women in various stages of labour filled the air with their cries, midwives offered words of encouragement, and monitors beeped rhythmically, tracking vital signs.
Approaching a young woman in active labour, her face contorted in pain, Kate introduced herself. "Ms. Patal, I'm Dr. Ford. These are my interns, Aisha and Hugo. We're here to ensure everything goes smoothly. How are you feeling?"
Ms. Patal managed a weak smile between contractions. "Scared, but ready."
Kate nodded, her tone soothing. "You're doing great. We're here to support you every step of the way."
Turning to her interns, Kate began her instruction. "First, let's review the patient's history. Aisha, can you tell me what we've learned so far?"
Aisha consulted her notes. "Ms. Patal is a Gravida 2, Para 1, with no significant complications during this pregnancy. Her last menstrual period was recorded accurately, and she's been progressing well."
"Excellent," Kate said encouragingly. "Now, Hugo, what's the significance of the last menstrual period date in this context?"
Hugo thought for a second before responding. "It helps us estimate the due date and track the pregnancy's progress. It's crucial for identifying any deviations from the norm."
"Exactly," Kate confirmed. "Let's prepare for the delivery."
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The first cries of a newborn filled the air, drawing smiles from the entire team. Kate gently handed the baby to Ms. Patal, who wept tears of joy and relief.
"Congratulations," Kate said softly. "You did wonderfully."
The interns observed the intensity of the scene. Aisha whispered to Hugo, sharing raw feelings. Hugo nodded, his usual casual demeanour replaced by sincere admiration.
Kate smiled at their exchanged glances, remembering her own initial awe. As they continued their rounds, Kate felt a profound sense of fulfilment.
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Kate's life was a rhythm of the hospital and her apartment, two dots connected by a single line. Nesting comfortably on the couch, wrapped in a plush blanket with a mug of hot chocolate in her hands, was pure bliss.
Yet, memories of the past intruded. She recalled the crushing weight of death on an alien planet, the sensation of her body being torn apart by forces beyond comprehension.
When she woke up in her boarding school bed, marvelling at the vibrant energy coursing through her young body, it confirmed her fourth rebirth. She was simply Kate Ford, who had recently graduated from high school.
This time, she vowed to leave behind the nightmares of Prometheus. Ambition and assets held no allure for her now. Despite her natural aptitude for virology, she chose a different path: Obstetrics and Gynecology, a field that celebrated life rather than dissected it.
The touch of tiny hands became her new reality, a reminder of the light she could bring into the world. The ward was a sanctuary where she could make a difference.
Kate even found unexpected solace in rekindling her relationship with her mother, a bond she had neglected in her previous lives. It now offered her a semblance of peace amidst the turmoil. In this small but significant way, she found healing for her broken soul.
Yet, trouble loomed on the horizon.
Kate's eyes bore into the holographic news display on the wall. As headlines scrolled about Weyland's latest technological marvels, a sense of unease gnawed at her core.
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No.
Her mind raced as she realised that the nightmare she thought she had escaped had returned.
The massive, houseshoe-shaped spacecraft floated in mid-air, its size dwarfing the cityscape below. The sky darkened, and the air buzzed with unnatural turbulence, making it hard to stand.
She grabbed the bannisters, her knuckles white, as the ship's cargo bay opened, releasing a weaponized black liquid that rained down on the city. Panic erupted as the weaponized liquid annihilated the populace, contaminating everything it touched.
The once vibrant city fell silent, the only sounds now were the distant cries for help and the blaring of emergency alarms. The acrid smell of burning chemicals filled the air, stinging her eyes and throat.
Kate locked herself in the BSL-4 lab, unable to bear the sight of the devastation. Her last straw was the screams of pleas that echoed on the other side of the formidable door, ending abruptly.
Man plans, and God laughs.
The light in her eyes faded as the last brain cell succumbed to the merciless pathogen.
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Kate lay motionless on her bed, finding solace only in the silence of her dormitory. Her roommate had slipped away into the neon haze of the nightclub, leaving Kate to confront her swirling thoughts. In the darkness, she grasped for a fleeting reprieve from the chaos of her existence.
This was her fifth life, a reality that pressed heavily on her soul. There was no thrill in her heart as she pondered the cosmic roulette that had spun her back into being once more. Only dread remained, a gnawing inevitability whispering of past mistakes and future repercussions.
"Kate, open the door! Please!" Aisha's desperate cries faded into the background. The pounding on her door echoed in her mind with merciless clarity, accompanied by the weakening pleas. Tendrils of nausea clawed at her insides, her body wracked by uncontrollable sobs.
She had been foolish to believe she could evade death by avoiding the path that led her to LV-223. Kate's eyes fluttered open to the dim glow of her tablet, its light flickering across the room in rhythmic pulses. The hum of the device filled the silence, mingling with the faint rustle of leaves outside her window.
With trembling fingers, she reached out, her heart pounding.
Mom. The message glared back at her, shattering the cocoon of sorrow she had wrapped around herself.
Where are you, Kate? It demanded, and below it, a string of missed calls and voicemails clamoured for her attention.
Kate's mind waded through the fog of her despair, attempting to piece together the events in this timeline. Tears welled up in her eyes again, soaking into her pillow.
She was a wimp trapped in a nightmare of peer abuse, each day a fresh hell at high school. The words and actions of her tormentors echoed relentlessly in her mind, an inescapable tide of cruelty.
Her fingers hovered over the call button, hesitating. The screen blurred as more tears fell. With a shuddering breath, she pressed the button.
The dial tone filled the room, a monotonous sound stretching into eternity. Then, a click, and her mother's worried voice cut through the silence.
"Kate, what's going on? Are you alright?"
Panic gripped Kate's heart, and before she could stop herself, she hung up. The ensuing silence was deafening. She pressed her fists against her eyes, trying to stem the flow of tears.
Elizabeth Shaw's words echoed in her mind, a beacon of reason amidst the chaos.
If you don't stop it, there won't be any home to go back to.
Another message interrupted her thoughts: "I'm going to call the police if I don't get your call in 5 minutes," her mother had written. Kate burst into laughter, a sound more of tension release than amusement.
It bubbled up from deep within, startling her with its intensity. She picked up her tablet again, her fingers steady as she typed a message to her mother, reassuring her that she was safe and would call soon.
Something began to stir within Kate's soul. She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. It was a spark of defiance, small but fierce, burning amidst the ashes of her torment.
Her pen moved independently, sketching out future events on a spreadsheet, compelling the rational part of Kate to analyse and formulate the best route to dismantle whatever was behind everything.
What would she do next? For the first time since her arrival, Kate felt a semblance of control over her life.
With her brilliant IGCSE results in hand, she had secured her freedom to pursue her true calling. Relieved that her knowledge of virology and O&G was retained through her numerous rebirths, it now served as a cheat code, freeing her schedule to take up more subjects.
Patience, she cooed to herself, rubbing her temple after a frustrating effort to grasp new terms. She couldn't wait to get over it.
Things eventually sorted themselves out, and the odds seemed to be in her favour as she rose like a firework, illuminating her studies with unparalleled excellence. Every lecture, and every experiment was a step closer to mastery.
Graduation. Housemanship. Residency.
Despite her brilliance, Kate remained a puzzle to those around her. Her social interactions were awkward, her demeanour aloof. Her batchmates admired her, envied her, and then drew an invisible line between her and them. These were trivial matters. Her eyes were locked on the future, ignoring the phantom partnership she once had.
An invitation arrived soon, extending a promising offer, promoted by her professors before she even completed her Foundation Programme.
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Kate's head was a sticky swirl of confusion. Marvellous, she corrected herself. She sat alone in her dimly lit office, the faint click of her tablet's stylus her only companions.
The glow from the tablet screen illuminated her face as she reviewed the document before her.
Neurodegeneration.
The title flashed in bold letters, immediately capturing her attention. Beneath it, an array of benefits was listed: access to state-of-the-art research equipment, a substantial salary increment, and the prestige of leading a high-profile project. Her fingers traced the edges of the tablet, grounding her in reality.
The offer was more than tempting; it was irresistible. The thought of the latest upgrades in her lab made her heart race. Her current setup was decent, but this was next-level.
The opportunity to work with cutting-edge technology, to push the boundaries of her research, was a dream come true.
She felt a twinge of unease mingling with excitement. It was akin to being pampered by a sugar daddy, lured by promises of luxury and privilege. The terms were clear: she would have to produce results. The stakes were high, but Kate thrived under pressure.
A faint smile curved her lips as she realised how the tables had turned. She always thought of herself as the hidden hunter, waiting patiently for her chance to strike. She thrived in the shadows, unnoticed by most, but aware of everything and everyone.
Yet, she was blissfully unaware that someone else had been watching her closely, biding their time, preying on her in a manner she had never anticipated. The realisation struck her like a thunderbolt one mundane Monday morning, breaking the monotony of her routine.
Meredith Vickers Weyland.
For the first time, Kate felt a thrill, an electric surge of anticipation. Finally, someone worthy of being called her opponent had emerged. The game was afoot, and she couldn't wait to play.
The first few weeks in the lab were a whirlwind of activity. Kate quickly immersed herself in cutting-edge research, her days becoming a blur of data analysis, experimental trials, and late-night brainstorming sessions.
The workload was intense, yet the atmosphere was surprisingly collaborative. The team, though competitive, shared a passion for discovery that united them.
Vickers, despite her cold demeanour, proved to be an effective leader. Communication was direct and to the point, devoid of unnecessary pleasantries.
Orders were clear, and expectations were high. Kate appreciated the efficiency, as it allowed her to focus entirely on her work without the distraction of office politics.
One evening, as Kate was engrossed in a particularly complex simulation, Vickers approached her workstation and observed the holographic display with her neutral characteristic. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the faint odour of burning circuits, creating an oddly comforting aroma.
Kate continued her work, the steady rhythm of her typing punctuating the silence. The Neural Revive was performing better than expected, a fact that did not escape Vickers' notice. The tacit approval in her eyes was a rare sign of satisfaction.
Time flew as Kate delved into her new role. Her curiosity about Vickers grew, compelling her to research the woman who had so abruptly altered her trajectory. Vickers was a mystery, her identity wrapped in layers of power and secrecy.
She discovered that Vickers was embroiled in a cold war with her father. Despite Peter Weyland's advanced age, he had no intention of retiring, clinging to his power with the tenacity of a seasoned ruler. Vickers, on the other hand, was smart, ambitious, and strategic, her eyes set firmly on the throne. The corporation was a savannah, with opportunists placing bets, some loyal to the old guard, others to the new blood.
The monarch had the advantage of experience and legacy, and recently, Vickers had suffered a setback, demoted to a lesser position within the company. Yet, she remained undeterred.
Vickers had a knack for making calculated moves, and her latest was to recruit Kate—a rising star in the scientific community. Vickers recognized talent and was willing to invest in it for her own gain.
As Kate pondered her new alliance, she couldn't shake the feeling that their fates were intertwined. She had aligned herself with a powerful ally, but only time would tell if their partnership would lead to victory or disaster.
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Two years had elapsed, marking a swift ascent in Kate's trajectory through the corporate echelons of Weyland. From her initial steps as a subordinate, she had evolved into Vickers Weyland's indispensable troubleshooter, her skill and tenacity earning her the unspoken accolade of Vickers' most capable enforcer.
Within the vast expanse of the project review chamber, Kate laboured tirelessly, her countenance a patchwork of focus and weariness illuminated harshly by the white glare overhead. Holographic projections danced with intricate data streams, occasionally punctuated by the acrid scent of overheated circuits. It was in the midst of one such intense session that David made his entrance.
David's arrival brought an abrupt calm to the frenzied atmosphere. His demeanour, once marked by blond locks now turned dark, exuded an air of composed contrast against the chaos. Kate couldn't help but notice the change.
It had been some time since their paths had crossed, and his presence stirred a mix of familiarity and an unexpected breath of fresh air. David carried with him a message from Peter Weyland.
Peter's commendation of Kate's work was a measured acknowledgment of her rising influence, yet it also served as a subtle reminder of the cutthroat milieu that defined Weyland Corporation—a realm where survival favoured only the most adept.
Despite maintaining a meticulously neutral facade, Kate felt a bitter taste rise in her throat. Peter Weyland's recognition was a double-edged sword—an honour tinged with caution.
Memories stirred of her earlier life, once in Peter Weyland's shadow, perpetually undervalued. Now, thrust into the limelight by Vickers' ascendancy, she had achieved what was once denied to her. As a mere underling in Meridith Vickers' domain.
But those thoughts were inconsequential now. Her allegiance was clear, her path chosen. She intended to see it through.
David nodded, but before he departed, he hesitated. His normally cold blue eyes softened with an unfamiliar emotion—curiosity. Finally, he asked, "Why Vickers?"
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"Why me?" Vickers shattered the silence first, her query hanging in the air like a buried secret yearning to be unearthed.
Kate, consumed by the intricate patterns dancing before her, paused and turned to meet Vickers' gaze.
"What's your stake in this?" Vickers' question echoed with hesitant uncertainty, a crack in her usual stoic demeanour.
Their crowning achievement, the Neural Revive, now rebranded as the Synapse Restabilizer, stood testament to their combined brilliance—a marvel of technology emerging from their collaborative genius. Yet, beneath the veneer of shared success, a subtle tension simmered between Kate and Vickers, a fault line threatening to rupture their once-unbreakable bond after David's visit.
Vickers, the consummate pragmatist, struggled to fathom Kate's steadfast determination. In her world, every individual harboured a vulnerability—a leverage point ripe for exploitation. But Kate remained an enigma, driven by motives Vickers couldn't decipher.
Setting aside her tablet, Kate stared into the void ahead. "At thirty-four," she began, her words weaving a tapestry of nostalgia, "I had attained doctorates in Molecular Virology and Neuroscience..."
Yet, within Weyland Corporation's rigid hierarchy, her youth and relative inexperience were glaring liabilities. The board, a council of seasoned experts, regarded her with a mix of curiosity and scepticism. They saw potential, yet hesitated to entrust her with the coveted role of core researcher.
Kate's lips curled in a wry smile as memories of Dr. Leung's counsel resurfaced. "Your time will come, Dr. Ford. Patience is a virtue."
Patience—an anchor weighing her down, stifling her ambitions. She had dedicated years to honing her skills, pushing the boundaries of neuroscience, only to find herself eclipsed by those more seasoned in navigating the corporate labyrinth.
The alternative path had seemed a pragmatic concession—an avenue to serve as Peter Weyland's caregiver, leveraging her medical expertise while gaining proximity to the epicentre of corporate power. Yet the notion rankled her pride. Kate baulked at the thought of being reduced to a glorified nurse, regardless of the strategic advantages it promised.
Her discontent stemmed not just from professional frustration, but from a deeper rebellion against a predetermined fate—a refusal to be a pawn in a game she hadn't chosen to play.
Restlessness gnawed at her, an insatiable itch demanding relief. Just as a semblance of a plan began to take shape in her mind, Vickers' proposition arrived unexpectedly.
Vickers scrutinised her, lips pursed in contemplation, grappling with matters beyond her usual purview. It took moments for clarity to dawn—both were mavericks, defying obsolescence, each striving for recognition and power in a cutthroat world of competition and envy.
With a final glance, Vickers turned away, leaving Kate to resume her analysis of data cascading like ethereal waterfalls before her.
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In the heart of the corporation's headquarters, Vickers stood before a towering holographic projection of Prometheus, the spacecraft bound for LV-223. Her movements were deliberate, muscles taut with purpose as she underwent rigorous physical training akin to that of astronauts preparing for a voyage into the uncharted depths of space.
Her focus shattered abruptly as the chamber door swung open, disrupting her serene concentration. Kate strode in, her expression a mixture of concern and frustration unmasked.
"Vickers, what in the hell do you think you're doing?" Kate demanded, her words cutting through the air like sharpened blades.
Turning to face her, Vickers maintained composure, her features betraying no emotion. "Preparing for the mission," she replied coolly, an edge of detachment in her voice.
Kate's frustration boiled over. "But why now, Vickers? After everything we've worked for, after finally securing the boardroom, you're just going to abandon it all?" Her disbelief and anger mingled in her trembling words.
"I owe you no explanations," Vickers responded calmly, unwavering.
Struggling to contain her temper, Kate turned away, muttering a string of curses under her breath—expletives slipping out like a torrent of frustration.
"Father has left the company in shambles," Vickers stated matter-of-factly. "I had no choice but to step in as acting CEO."
"And that's exactly why you can't go," Kate argued vehemently. "The company needs you now more than ever. We need you."
Vickers remained resolute. "I can't abandon him," she said quietly, her resolve unyielding. "No matter the cost."
Defeat weighed heavily on Kate's shoulders, the gravity of the situation pressing down on her. "Everyone sees what you appear to be," she remarked bitterly. "Few experience what you truly are."
With those words hanging in the air, Kate turned and departed the chamber, leaving Vickers to wrestle alone with her thoughts and the looming spectre of the imminent mission. Vickers couldn't help but ponder what awaited them on the distant planet, and what sacrifices would be demanded in the pursuit of immortality.
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Prometheus Crew Infected by Unknown Virus, UN Debates Earth Reentry
June 9, 2092
The crew of the spaceship Prometheus has been infected by a mysterious virus, sparking global alarm and intense debate.
Shortly after entering deep space, Prometheus reported a viral outbreak. The unidentified pathogen is spreading rapidly among the crew, whose condition is worsening.
The United Nations held an emergency session to discuss whether the ship should return to Earth. The debate is heated, with fears of the unknown virus potentially causing a global pandemic. Some experts call for a space quarantine, while others demand immediate medical aid on Earth.
Public concern is mounting, with social media flooded by calls for caution. "We can't risk another pandemic," warned a leading health official.
As the world anxiously awaits the UN's decision, the fate of the Prometheus crew remains uncertain, highlighting the precarious intersection of space exploration and planetary safety.
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Kate's head throbbed as she slowly regained consciousness. The sharp sting of a cold metal chair beneath her and the rough bindings around her wrists sent jolts of pain through her body. She blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of her surroundings. The familiar sight of the spaceship's interior confirmed she was not in her apartment. Her heart raced as she realised she was on Prometheus.
Her eyes darted around, desperate to find something recognizable. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows. It was David, his pale face illuminated by the harsh overhead lights.
"Welcome back, Dr Ford," he greeted, which was eerily calm in Kate's ears.
"David?" Kate's voice trembled with a mix of confusion and fear. "Why am I here?"
Drawing nearer, David's expression darkened. "Every crew member on Prometheus is dead. They never reached LV-223."
Kate's heart sank, her mind reeling. "What? No, that's impossible. Vickers..." She shook her head vehemently, refusing to accept the truth.
David's eyes narrowed, his face contorted with a mix of grief and anger. "Vickers is gone. My sister, father, all of them. Because of you."
Kate's eyes widened in disbelief. "What the hell are you talking about? Release me now!"
David ignored her demand and grew colder. "They trusted you, and you betrayed them."
Tears welled in Kate's eyes, denial giving way to hysterical laughter. "You're insane, David. Accusing me of something I would never do."
David's lips curled into a bitter smile. "The virus that killed them originated on Earth. And you... you are gifted in this field, aren't you, Kate? "
Momentary defiance flickered in Kate's eyes. "You can't keep me locked up forever, David."
"Locked up?" he queried, a sardonic curve forming at his mouth. "In order to attend to the crew's wellbeing, they've sent a medical team along with a virology expert... I'll keep providing data. Time is abundant, for both of us."
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An unassigned chortle broke the deafening silence, contrasting the stifling, heavy chill of the room. Kate's demeanour shifted. Her eyes, once frantic and pleading, now held a glacial gleam. She stared at David, her previous anxiety evaporating like morning mist.
With a newfound intensity, venom whispered. "And you, David, you think you can play the grieving son and brother? You fathom sadness?"
something—perhaps annoyance—in his eyes though David suppressed them. "Emotions are not the sole domain of humans, Kate. My grief is real, programmed or not."
Kate's lips curled into a cold smile. "Grief? Or just frustration because your hunt was stolen? Because someone else took out the Weylands before you could enact whatever twisted plan you had?"
She mused aloud, a chilling pride colouring her words. "The neuron virus... It has an incubation period of two years. I made sure of it. The symptoms only begin to manifest once the ship reaches LV-223. By then, it would be too late."
She paused, her smile growing more sinister. "No one would know unless…they paid close attention to the hippocampus during the crew's hypersleep…"
Her realisation struck like lightning. "That's how you figured it out, isn't it?" She looked at David, a mocking smile curling her lips. "Say, David, any favourite dreams from a particular crew member?"
David moved with swift precision, fingers tightening around her throat. A new sensation coursed through his body, something that almost felt like anger. His synthetic eyes bore into hers, devoid of mercy.
"Why?" he asked again, devoid of expression but laced with curiosity.
Why didn't things go her way? In the haze of suffocation, Kate rummaged for all the plot holes in her head.
Everything had been meticulously planned. Even David, likely immune to the virus, should have had his neck broken by the Engineer already.
Kate tilted her head, a strange mix of malice and madness in her gaze. "You wouldn't understand, David. Human motivations are far more... complex."
David's gaze didn't waver. "Try me."
Kate's smile faded, "We're all moths drawn to the flame of desire, knowing it may consume us, yet unable to resist its allure."
"Same goes for Vickers. Same goes for Peter Weyland. In the end, all of us perish."
David's grip loosened slightly, "And you? What did you desire?"
"She won't stay," Kate's lips curled into a cold, mirthless smile. " and I had more dignity than I thought. I mourned when I let her go."
"Liar," David spat, detecting the falsehood in her words.
Kate shrugged. "It usually sells. But the truth is rarely so poetic."
David's eyes narrowed. "You planned this long before the expedition, long before Vickers decided to join. Why?"
Kate laughed again, a sound devoid of joy. "You're almost there, David. But you'll never quite understand. The truth is buried in the chaos."
With a resigned sigh, Kate leaned back, her smile returning. "Keep trying."
Without a word, David reached into a compartment and revealed a glass container. Kate's eyes widened in horror at the sight of Elizabeth Shaw's mutated corpse, traces of violated scar covering her skin.
Tears streamed down her cheeks and the involuntary giggle returned, "I was right about one thing — you are indeed a deranged madman."
"The Corporation has authorised me to continue, to explore and uncover the truth," David declared calmly. "You will remain here, and we will discover what drove you to this madness."
The room descended into silence once more, the tension between them thick.
David and Kate locked gazes, each harbouring their own secrets, while the true enigma lurked in the shadows, waiting to be unravelled.
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Chapter 2: Update Log (Latest to Oldest):
15 Jun 2024: 1st Publish
25 Jun 2024: 1st Edit (Minor)