Searching For- Grey Anatomy In- -

He reached up a translucent hand and grabbed Elena's wrist. His grip was cold, precise, and utterly final.

Elena pulled the sheet back.

It wasn't a morgue. It was an amphitheater, small and round, like a forgotten Roman surgical theater. In the center, on a steel table draped in white linen, lay a shape. But the light didn't come from overhead lamps. It came from inside the linen—a soft, grey, bioluminescent glow that pulsed like a slow heartbeat. Searching for- grey anatomy in-

A voice, soft and dry as old pages, spoke from the shadows. "Took you long enough, Vargas."

She opened her mouth to scream, but the only sound that came out was the soft, final click of a search engine finding no more results. He reached up a translucent hand and grabbed Elena's wrist

Her legs moved before her mind consented. The corridors of St. Jude’s Mercy were a quiet blue, the vinyl floors squeaking under her scuffed Danskos. The air grew colder, metallic, as she descended. At the vault door, the red light above the key slot was, impossibly, green.

The hospital’s internal search engine, a clunky relic from 2008, chugged. A single result appeared. Not a file, but a location tag: Sub-Level B, Cryo-Vault 7. Access: Restricted. It wasn't a morgue

"What is this?" she breathed.