I Missed You.
I was gathered in the VR surgery room on the 8th floor of the Beauty Tower with the witches, Res, and the Jo family.
"Starting today, we'll be running simulations for separating the conjoined twins."
I'd scrubbed in and was fully suited up, just like for a real surgery. The others assisting me were dressed the same way.
"As we saw in the detailed scans, the prince and princess don't share a brain. We've dodged the worst-case scenario. But since they do share veins, this will be an extremely difficult operation."
I gazed at them with a resolute expression and continued. "We've incorporated all the data from the prince and princess's detailed exams into the VR program. We'll run perfect simulations before proceeding to the actual surgery."
Most of the surgery would naturally fall to me, but this was such a massive procedure that I couldn't handle it alone. Still, everyone had gained plenty of real-world experience from being drafted into the war. Especially Rebecca, Hazel, and Stella—they'd be participating not as nurses, but as doctors for this separation surgery. That made four doctors in total, including me, with the Jo family handling nursing duties and Res powering the equipment.
"Even though these are VR simulations, we can't let our guard down for a second. If we spot any risks during the sims, we'll reroute or try alternative approaches."
The most hopeful aspect of this separation surgery was that the area where the prince and princess were joined at the back of their heads was smaller than expected.
"The most important thing we'll learn from these simulations is that it's not just about separating them—we have to keep both alive. Everyone, stay sharp. Let's run the first simulation!"
"Yes!"
This surgery might be the most challenging of my career.
We reviewed the electronic skull maps created from scans of the twins' brains and ran rehearsal after rehearsal as a team—one week, two weeks, three weeks straight.
"Haa... Finally... we finally did it."
"Ugh, just the real surgery makes me sweat buckets."
"Me too—my legs are total jelly."
And so, around a month later on Sunday, August 20th, after 23 rehearsals, we completed a flawless simulation surgery. Each one had felt like the real thing, but today was the first time we'd nailed the lowest-risk, most effective version perfectly.
As soon as the sim ended, everyone collapsed onto the surgery room floor like they'd been drained dry. Seeing that made my chest tighten with emotion—their dedication, how hard they'd worked to keep up with me.
"Don't forget this feeling today. The day after tomorrow, we go live. It'll be a long haul, so rest up tomorrow."
Now it was time for the main event. Time to show what we'd built.
The actual separation surgery for the prince and princess began two days after the final simulation, on Tuesday, August 22nd by the Ailene calendar.
"Louis, it'll be fine. Don't worry."
"Beatrice, don't freak out when you see my handsome face."
Before the real surgery, the twins clasped hands tightly—right up until anesthesia kicked in.
"Louis..."
"Beatrice..."
Anesthetic induction agents were administered to Prince Louis and Princess Beatrice, and general anesthesia began.
"Endotracheal intubation complete."
"Alright, surgery starting."
More than twenty rehearsals. Especially recalling the moments from that last VR sim, we moved our hands as if this first real surgery was routine.
Slice—slice—slice—
Me, Rebecca, Hazel, and Stella—all wearing loupes—began incising the joined area. From there, we proceeded like machines. Recalling countless rehearsals, without a single mistake, careful—always careful.
Sizzle—sss—
Like that, one hour, two hours. Swipe—swish—sizzle—six hours, seven hours passed, our bodies drenched in sweat as the surgery continued.
We followed the exact sequence from the final rehearsal, time slipping away relentlessly.
The surgery that started at 8 a.m. reached 1 a.m. the next day. Finally, the prince and princess separated into the forms we'd envisioned.
"Now, healing magic, then wake them from anesthesia. Good work, everyone."
A whopping 17-hour marathon surgery. They couldn't hear me yet under anesthesia, but as healing magic's light shimmered over Louis and Beatrice, I whispered words they wouldn't catch. That they'd done amazingly well.
"Nngh..."
In the inpatient room on the 9th floor of the Cache Shop, Initium Empire's sole prince, Louis, let out a faint groan as he woke from his long sleep.
"Bea, you're awa—gah! S-sorry!"
The moment he realized he was staring at the ceiling, Louis jolted in shock and whipped his body to the right.
Born at the same time, joined at the back of the head—he and Beatrice. Seeing the ceiling meant his sister was pinned under the bed, so he turned right as always.
But Beatrice said nothing.
"Bea! Can you hear me? Bea! Hey! Someone! Bea's—!"
The 10-year-old boy screamed for attendants like his world was ending. His greatest fear was his sister not responding.
Reaching back blindly as usual—closest but never visible—to check if she was okay.
'Huh... nothing...?'
The realization hit that his back felt empty.
"Your Highness, are you awake?"
"Who goes there? Show yourself!"
A man's voice—not Beatrice's—reached the prince's ear.
"It's Minor. The anesthetic might leave you a bit foggy."
"Ah, Gold Baron!"
Still habitually lying in bed, head turned right, he spotted the peculiar mage from Beauty Tower who'd led their surgery—Minor Gold Baron.
After nearly a month in Beauty Tower, the familiar sight clicked his fragmented memories back into place like puzzle pieces. He realized what he'd been doing, what the situation was.
"Your Highness, the first surgery wrapped perfectly. The princess is resting in another room—no need to worry."
"Ahh... Thank you."
Even hearing the surgery succeeded, the prince felt off. His sister—never separated since birth—was gone from his back. The indescribable loss outweighed any relief.
"Now you can sleep facing the ceiling instead of your side. It's actually healthiest that way. If you must side-sleep, do it on your left, not right like before. It's about your stomach shape—sleeping left lets acid drain properly..."
As the baron slowly sat him up, the prince recalled the thought he always had seeing him.
Strange guy.
Mysterious man from the far east. Tower master who insisted on "doctor," not mage. Unfazed from their first meeting. The odd one who'd claimed he could separate him and Beatrice—Minor Gold.
Has no idea what he's talking about.
During his month in Beauty Tower, Gold Baron visited occasionally, spouting hard-to-grasp words. But since Beatrice didn't hate him, neither did Louis. Just pegged him as weird.
"...So sleep facing up or on your left—"
"Gold Baron, Bea—er, my sister? Is she safe?"
The worried prince's question drew only a gentle smile from Gold Baron.
"Yes, Your Highness. No worries. She wanted to see you but was still out, so I stayed by her."
"Can I go to her now? Not seeing her has me anxious."
"Of course, Your Highness. Take my hand and stand. Like with her, you've never done it alone—will take adjustment."
Louis thought, What's hard about walking?
"...Wha—?!"
He was wrong.
"Here, grab my hand."
"Walking... Did they injure my legs during surgery?"
His hesitant question got a faint smile. "No, Your Highness. Pre-surgery, the princess was against your back, shifting your center rearward. Now without her, it's tricky."
Bea's not behind me...
He knew it meant literally what it said. But oddly, it stung deep inside.
"You can walk alone now."
"The princess needed support at first too. You'll adapt quick—grab my hand."
"..."
The prince felt strange. Body light as air, steps feather-soft. After a few per Gold Baron's words, lighter than ever.
Only his heart weighed heavy.
"We're here, Your Highness. Next room over, haha."
The strange man, Gold Baron, pushed open the odd sliding door.
"Louis?"
"Be-Bea...?"
A girl's voice calling his nickname from inside froze him. No idea why, but imperial decree had only his portrait painted—never hers.
"Louis... Louis!"
But that faded fast. A sunny golden-haired, golden-eyed girl shoved past attendants, ran awkwardly toward him—her scent, warmth, all familiar from before birth.
"I missed you."
"Me too. I missed you."
Prince and princess embraced wordlessly, standing locked for a while. Facing opposite their old joined direction.
Wonder how much the emperor'll pay.
And only one person—Minor Gold Baron—grinned broadly, happily.