Genshin various x male reader
Oh the beautiful snow... One snow flake, the next, and another.
The snow flows like a river, it carries beauty, the cold, and love. A Mosaic of infinite shapes and energies.
But one snow flake does not last long with...
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Y/N sat on the examination table, his fingers gripping the edge tightly as Dr. Albedo pointed at the scan with a pen. The fluorescent light above cast a harsh glare on the glossy image of his brain, illuminating areas Y/N couldn’t fully understand but instinctively knew were troubling.
“Do you see this, Mr. Snow?” Dr. Albedo asked, tapping the pen against a darkened area on the scan.
Y/N tilted his head slightly, squinting. “What am I looking at?”
“This,” Albedo began, his voice calm but tinged with clinical detachment, “is your mass.”
“My… mass?” Y/N repeated, his brow furrowing.
Dr. Albedo sighed softly, lowering the pen. “Your tumor,” he clarified, his sharp eyes shifting from the scan to meet Y/N’s gaze.
The word “tumor” echoed in Y/N’s mind, reverberating like a sudden thunderclap. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came.
“And this,” Albedo continued, tapping the pen against two more areas, “this, and also this.”
Y/N followed the pen’s movements, his breath hitching as he noticed how many places Albedo had pointed out. The realization began to sink in, but he clung to a sliver of disbelief.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Snow,” Albedo said after a moment, his tone softening as he placed a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “The virus has caused a very advanced case of Lampington’s lesions.”
“What exactly does that mean?” Y/N asked, his voice shaky, his fingers tightening their grip on the edge of the table.
Dr. Albedo turned to Dr. Sucrose, raising an eyebrow. “Dr. Sucrose hasn’t explained this to you?”
Sucrose, who had been standing awkwardly by the door, flushed and adjusted her glasses. “I-I tried,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Thanks,” Albedo said, his tone clipped, though he quickly refocused on Y/N. “To put it plainly, Mr. Snow, without treatment, the lesions will continue to grow and spread. They’re already pressing against critical areas of your brain.”
Y/N’s heart pounded in his chest. “Pressing? What does that mean? Like… what happens if they keep growing?”
Dr. Albedo sighed again, his expression grave. “It’s terminal,” he said bluntly, though his tone carried an edge of sympathy.
Y/N stared at him, uncomprehending. “Terminal? Like… death?”
“I’m very sorry,” Albedo said sincerely, his hand still resting on Y/N’s shoulder.
The word hit Y/N like a physical blow. He shook his head, his disbelief mounting. “But I feel fine,” he protested. “I just got a tiny bump on my head, that’s all!”
“It’s unbelievable,” Sucrose murmured from the corner, her voice filled with quiet sympathy. “Such a sneaky disease. It hides until it’s already progressed too far.”
