My Ultimate Sign-in System Made Me Invincible Chapter 563 What Does The Word, Impossible, Mean Anymore?

The live broadcast commenced moments after the willing participants affixed their signatures to the consent forms.

The entire globe had been in a state of anticipation since the morning hours. Prior to noon, the shuttle footage had already taken the internet by storm. For hours, this footage circulated widely, intensifying a pressure that could only find release now.

Just sixty seconds before the stream was scheduled to begin, Nova Technologies issued a concise announcement on LucidNet.

The clinical trial livestream will commence shortly.

Following this message, a sequence of white numerals against a dark backdrop initiated a thirty-second countdown.

The comments flooding in beneath the announcement moved with extraordinary speed, outpacing the counter. By the time the countdown reached its final ten seconds, the engagement metrics had ceased to update in any meaningful capacity. The platform, designed for immense traffic, was now processing unprecedented volume without any visible signs of strain.

The counter hit zero, and the livestream blinked into existence.

Concurrently, three distinct windows materialized on nearly every active screen across Earth. Each room was bathed in a warm, steady illumination, the same peculiar sourceless light that the staff had been describing for the past two weeks.

The comment section instantly ignited. Thousands of reactions flooded in every second, the text scrolling too rapidly to decipher, with individuals typing variations of the same astonished sentiment in countless languages simultaneously – it's happening, I can't believe this is real.

Within the leftmost window, a young man was seated upright on a bed. His legs were absent from the knee down.

In the window to the right, an older gentleman sat with his hands resting in his lap. His daughter stood attentively beside the bed, her hand placed gently on his shoulder.

The comments immediately began speculating. Theories swirled regarding condition classifications, expected timelines, and the potential implications of each volunteer's presence for Nova Technologies' intended demonstration. The extensive discussions that had spanned weeks concerning the trial now found their real-time expression, unfolding with a speed, intensity, and lack of structure never before witnessed.

Then, a simultaneous pull-back of the camera occurred in each of the three windows.

Three doors swung open, and three Synths entered each room, one after another, all attired in dark clinical scrubs. Each Synth carried a metallic tray, held level with both hands. Perched upon each tray was a single injector.

The comment section acknowledged this development even before the majority of viewers could fully comprehend the visual unfolding before them.

Is that it

That's the injector

It looks like something from a movie

THAT'S THE NANITES IN THAT THING?

bro my hands are shaking and I'm not even the one getting the injection

In the room designated for Diego, the Synth proceeded towards the attending nurse, presenting the tray steadily. The nurse reached out, grasping the injector with both hands, her fingers carefully closing around its grip.

For a fleeting moment, a mere fraction of a second, the comment section fell into a profound silence, only to erupt immediately afterward.

SHE'S PICKING IT UP

I need everyone to be quiet I cannot handle this

I've been awake since 4am for this. I am not breathing.

my entire office stopped working. 47 people staring at their screens right now

The black fluid. You can see it through the chamber. What IS that

The nurse brought the injector to Diego's shoulder, expertly positioned it, held it firm, and with a swift, decisive motion, depressed the activation mechanism.

The dark fluid disappeared in a single, rapid injection. The nurse then withdrew the device.

For a full three seconds, the comment section offered no discernible output. It was a chaotic cascade of characters, punctuation marks, incomplete phrases, and the raw impulse to respond manifesting before coherent thoughts could be formed.

Then, a unified chorus emerged:

it's done

he got it

The most important injection in human history just happened and it took less than two seconds

I am going to cry on my lunch break and I don't care who sees

My grandmother had both legs amputated. She passed three years ago. I am sitting here watching this young man and I don't have words.

Someone hold me

While speculation continued across all three windows, the overwhelming focus had already gravitated towards the left-hand view. Towards Diego. The young man remained remarkably still on the bed, his hands resting on his thighs, his gaze fixed forward, absorbed in some internal concentration that eluded the camera's lens.

Suddenly, Marco's voice resonated through the stream.

SOMEONE ALERT MY MOTHER; SHE NEEDS TO WITNESS THIS MOMENT!

I put my name down for this trial, but I wasn't chosen. Now, I'm watching this man touch his legs for the very first time in three long years, and I can't help but cry tears of joy for him. Honestly, there's no room left for my own sadness right now.

The translation arrived with astonishing speed. The interpreter didn't hesitate for a second, understanding the meaning even before he fully voiced it.

We are currently experiencing the conclusion of a specific kind of human suffering. Yes, right now, on a Tuesday.

Speculation began instantaneously. Questions flooded in, each one spawning its own discussion thread before the previous one had even finished loading.

How much time would it take? Would both limbs regrow at the same time or one after the other? Was the itching sensation due to nerve regeneration, tissue rebuilding, or perhaps something else entirely? Would the phantom limb pain cease before or after the physical regrowth was complete? Would an individual whose amputation occurred three years ago heal differently compared to someone with a longer-standing injury?

No one possessed any answers. In fact, no one could have possessed answers. The medical knowledge regarding human limb regeneration was non-existent because human limb regeneration simply hadn't been a reality until about ninety seconds prior.

One user shared: "We're observing the very first instance of a human regrowing a limb in recorded history, and the comments are scrolling too rapidly to follow. I can't process both at once, so I'm just focusing on his face."

That particular post garnered two hundred thousand likes in less than a single second after being published.

The responses beneath it weren't focused on analysis or speculation. They were simply people echoing the same sentiment: they were watching his face.

An account with official verification and hundreds of millions of followers posted a brief, yet profound, statement: "I have nothing to say except this is beautiful."

The replies that followed consisted of tens of thousands of individuals expressing the exact same sentiment.

A separate discussion had branched off from the main flow, running its own commentary at a less frenetic pace than the real-time feed.

"Can we discuss the true implications of this? Not the technological aspect, but the human element. He's from San Pedro Sula, one of the most dangerous cities globally. He was shot, lost both his legs, and lacked access to rehabilitation, prosthetics, or adequate medical care for three years. He applied for a trial that accepted only one hundred participants out of tens of millions of applicants. He was chosen. He traveled to Mexico City. He boarded a spacecraft. He is currently on the moon. And just thirty seconds after receiving an injection, his legs begin to itch. Someone please explain to me what the word 'impossible' signifies now, because I suspect I no longer understand its meaning."

Someone responded: "It means what it always meant. It just encompasses fewer possibilities now."

Another user added: "To those who claimed this technology would exclusively benefit the affluent – I want them to look through this window. I want them to focus on this specific view and tell me what they see."

The comment section showed no signs of stopping. It couldn't stop. It was comprised of over six billion individuals with nowhere else to be and nothing else to occupy their attention.

The camera remained fixed on Diego's face. He sat with his hands resting on his thighs, precisely where his legs used to be, feeling sensations that three years of absence had led him to believe he would never experience again.