I am his uncle

Inside the operation room, the tension was palpable. Doctor Arisha Holland’s hands were steady, but her eyes betrayed the fear that gripped her. The sight of Bjorn’s injuries was far worse than she had imagined. The burns on his face, the broken bones—his entire body was a battlefield. But the most concerning was the injury at the back of his head, the kind that only a neurosurgeon could even attempt to treat.

Dr. Erica, her colleague, had her eyes fixed on the monitors, her face grim. “That’s why I called you, Doctor Holland,” she said, her tone urgent. “You’re our best neurosurgeon. This injury to his skull—it’s putting pressure on his brain. We need you to stabilize it before we lose him.”

Arisha’s breath quickened, her mind racing as she assessed the damage. “But his entire body is compromised. Broken ribs, fractured legs... and the burns.” She glanced at the vitals, her fingers moving swiftly as she adjusted the equipment. “We’re dealing with multiple critical issues, and any one