The sterile scent of antiseptic lingered in the hospital room as I sat on the edge of the bed, stretching my legs for the first time in days. My ribs ached with each breath, the gauze still wrapped tightly around my torso, but the pain had dulled into a background hum. Alexis tapped on her tablet while casting curious glances my way.
"You're clear to go, Mr. Dust," she said, setting the device aside. "Vitals are stable, no signs of internal damage, and, well…" She gestured vaguely at me. "You're officially a walking medical anomaly, so I doubt a few extra steps will kill you."
"Good to know," I said, forcing a smile beneath the fractured remains of my Dust Mask. I adjusted it slightly to cover more of my face. The damage from Logan's punch made the edges jagged, but it still did the job.
"You're keeping the mask, huh?" Alexis asked.
"Helps with breathing," I lied. "Dust particles."
She snorted. "Sure. Or maybe it's because you're famous now."
I froze. "Famous?"
