"What do you mean?" he asked quietly.
Fabrizio didn't answer. Instead, he gestured for Kaivan to follow.
Their footsteps blended together—the metallic rhythm of Kaivan's legs and Fabrizio's light steps—as they moved toward the research room. When the automatic door slid open, Kaivan froze.
Before him stood a table covered in glowing blue blueprints. Complex lines, technical notes, and rapid sketches filled every surface.
Fabrizio pointed at one of the designs.
"First, we'll need a Neural Link and a brain-processing system. It will be implanted at the base of your arms and thighs, connecting your brain directly to the new prosthetics."
He then pointed to another section.
"I'm also developing a bionic eye that connects straight to your visual cortex. You'll be able to see more clearly than normal humans—though… it will hurt at first."
Kaivan interrupted him.
"Wait, Fabrizio. Explain it in simple words. I don't understand half of what you're saying."
Fabrizio exhaled, trying to calm his excitement.
"Alright. Basically, I need help from your Tome Omnicent to calculate everything precisely. With its support, I can create a body that feels touch and reacts like a real human. This synthetic skin system will even be able to sense heat and pressure."
Kaivan stared at the blueprints for a long time. Doubt and hope tangled inside his mind.
At last, he spoke softly.
"Alright. If this can let me feel again… I'll help. Use the Tome Omnicent. Let's try."
Fabrizio broke into a wide smile, his passion surging once more. He explained the next steps, showing Kaivan how the designs would be brought to life.
The room filled with tension and hope. The clinking of research tools blended with Fabrizio's eager voice and Kaivan's calm responses, forming a quiet harmony of struggle and determination.
"Levan," Fabrizio called out, his voice crackling with energy, "I need permission for the medical team to begin full integration on Kaivan."
Levan did not answer immediately.
His gaze shifted from Fabrizio to Kaivan, who stood calmly, as if waiting for his fate.
The air in the room hardened.
"What kind of operation are you talking about this time, Fabrizio?" Levan asked slowly, his voice heavy, demanding a complete explanation.
Fabrizio activated the digital panel beside him. A blue hologram appeared in the air—artificial neural circuits, synthetic skin sensors, and the glowing design of a bionic eye. The lines pulsed softly, like living veins.
"This isn't just a prosthetic upgrade," he said quickly but clearly.
"We'll implant a neural interface that connects his brain signals directly to the new prosthetic system. A layered synthetic skin will transmit pressure and temperature through neural electrodes. As for his right eye—it's a first-generation bionic eye, equipped with micro-computation modules and an internal visual interface. Infrared sensors, micro-lidar, and real-time motion analysis will overlay data onto his vision. Trajectories, body temperature, and movement patterns will appear as if they're part of the real world.
But this system comes at a cost—his brain must adapt to unnatural processing speeds. He could lose his sense of time… even his sense of self."
Levan crossed his arms. "And if this procedure fails?"
Kaivan spoke up, his voice calm but filled with resolve. "Then I'll keep living with my old prosthetics. Nothing is lost. Only an opportunity that was never tried."
Fabrizio nodded. "The system can be isolated if overload occurs. It's safe. All we need is approval to begin clinical testing. Kaivan is ready."
Silence followed. Only the hum of ventilation and the steady rhythm of monitors filled the air. Levan stepped closer, standing near enough for the blue light to dance in their irises. In that quiet space, an unspoken conversation unfolded—about courage, human limits, and the price of progress.
At last, Levan took a deep breath.
"If this works, it won't just be a rescue. It will be a revolution. Do it, Fabrizio. I'll prepare the medical team and surgical AI support."
A confident smile spread across Fabrizio's face. He activated the main console. Screens came alive, displaying neural maps and operational modules. Behind him, Kaivan stared at his reflection on the dark screen—half human, half machine. Soon, something new would be born.
Beside the operating table stood Fabrizio—the young man with messy hair and bloodshot eyes burning with almost reckless passion. His lab coat was stained with blue ink from countless experimental sketches. His hands trembled slightly, not from fear, but from barely contained excitement.
"Kaivan," he said softly, his voice hoarse yet steady. It echoed between the heart monitors and the hiss of life-support machines. "You won't receive any anesthesia. We need to know whether your new nerves and sensors are working properly. This… will be extremely painful."
Kaivan stared at the metal ceiling above him. His eyes were clear, his face calm.
"I've felt pain worse than drills piercing bone," he replied quietly. "I'm ready."
A small signal from the chief doctor initiated the procedure.