A sharp antiseptic smell hit him and the gentle beeping of an EKG monitor cut through his consciousness, forcing him awake. He tried standing up from the soft surface he was ok but he hands refused to obey him. His eyelids were heavy, as if pinned down by a searing pain.
A slow grunt escaped his lips as he opened his eyes. His face contorted into a frown as he was greeted again by the all-too-familiar sight of white ceiling tiles and fluorescent lighting.
He was back at the hospital... again?
A heavy breath left his chest as he tried turning his head to the side. What had knocked him out again this time? A sharp ache swept down his ribs and cheek, answering his question.
Richard... the battle-the shame.
And then... the system.
His eyes twitched as he recommended everything that had happened-the bright blue screen that had flickered in front of him before everything went dark.
It hadn't been a dream... had it?
Before he even had time to process everything, a sharp voice cut through his thoughts.
"Are you out of your goddamn mind, Damien?!"
Damien winced at Gerald's voice as it rang out over the hospital room, causing his head to throb harder. He turned his gaze to find Gerald standing over his bed, arms crossed over his chest, rage burning in his eyes.
"You serious brought yourself back here again," Gerald's shouted, as he grabbed Damien's bed railing. "You just had to go back to her apartment, didn't you?"
Damien swallowed and turned away.
"Holy fucking hell, Damien!" Gerald muttered through clenched teeth as he ran a hand through his brown, curly hair before pacing about the foot of the bed. "Do you want to get yourself fucking killed? Do you have some kind of goddamn death wish?"
"I... " Damien started, but he stopped after realizing his voice was hoarse. Clearing his throat, he gritted his teeth as he tried to sit up despite his muscles screaming at him. "I didn't mean to—"
Gerald raised a hand, cutting him short. "Don't," he muttered through clenched teeth. "Just fucking don't."
A thick silence enveloped the place as Gerald plopped down on the foldable seat by Damien's bed. Damien turned to him and wanted to keep on defending himself when a thought suddenly hit him.
"I... I saw something, Gerald," he muttered under his breath as he looked at him.
"What?" Gerald asked, his brows furrowed.
"Before I blacked out... " Damien began as he ran a trembling hand through his hair. "... I don't know how to explain it, but... I saw something appear in my head. Some kind of... a screen."
The moment he uttered those words, Gerald's face darkened. "Damien," he said with a sigh, shaking his head. "You're concussed. You probably dreamed—"
"I didn't dream of it!" Damien cut in, irritation laced in his voice. "It wasn't a dream, it was real. It called me by my fucking name. It said I was chosen."
Gerald paused for some seconds, staring at Damien before exhaling sharply. Without saying a word, he turned and walked away, slamming the door behind him. Damien let out a breath before leaning back against the hospital pillows. He closed his eyes, weariness weighing heavily on him.
Maybe Gerald was right. Maybe everything was a dream. Maybe--
[SYSTEM INITIALIZING...]
Damien's eyes snapped open as he shot up from the bed.
A glinting blue interface flickered before him, following his gaze everywhere he turned. His breath hitched and his heart pounded harder as he blinked repeatedly, hoping it would disappear.
[Welcome back, Damien Carter.]
No, no, no. This was not happening.
I shut his eyes as he tried deviating his thoughts to something else, yet in the blackness, the screen still existed... and was speaking to him.
[Do not be alarmed. I am the System, an interface created to aid you.]
Damien opened his eyes, his breathing heightening as his fists clutched the bedsheet below him. "What the hell is this?!" he screamed, his loud voice echoing through the hospital room and catching the notice of the nurse assigned to his room.
The door opened as she peered into the room, her face creased in worry. "Sir? Are you okay?" she asked, worry etched on her features.
Damien barely registered her presence. He just ignored her and instead continued to flick his gaze around the room, trying his best to wrap his mind around what was happening.
The nurse hesitated at the door. "Sir, you need to settle down."
"No. No, no, no," Damien whispered as beads of sweat raced down his face despite the AC blowing at him. "This is not happening. I am losing my mind."
The nurse seeing that he was not calming down, turned to go call the doctor. But before she could make a move—
[Calm down, Damien Carter.]
A strange, comforting heat suddenly crept into Damiens limbs. His breathing slowed and his mind slowly cleared. The tightening terror in his heart was suddenly... gone.
His fingers relaxed gradually, his tense muscles loosening as the wild pounding of his heart settled into a rhythm.
The nurse looked at him in confusion. One moment, he had been on the edge of a nervous breakdown, and now... he was calm.
Way too calm.
"I'm fine," Damien groaned, shaking his head as he buried his face into his palm. "I just—just had a bad dream."
The nurse hesitated before nodding. "Okay," she mumbled as she slowly began stepping out the room. "But if you need something, press the call button."
He have her a quick nod and she cast him one last unsure glance before leaving the room.
The whole place went quiet again.
Damien let out a sharp breath, his fingers digging into the hospital sheets.
'This... thing, it can control me?' he thought to himself.
He gulped.
Suddenly, another text flashed before him:
[You have been offered a free system gift. Would you accept it?]
A chill ran down his spine as he stared at the two options before him.
Accept or Decline?
Was this another twisted joke? A dream? A delusion caused by his head injury? Was his bran playing tricks on him?
But... what if it was the truth? What if it was real?
His fists clenched.
He'd been trapped for years, walking in circles. He had been desperate, always struggling, and had crawled his way through life, only to be knocked back every time he tried standing.
If this was real, it could change all that.
Breathing deeply, he made up his mind and clicked on an option with his mind.
"Accept."
The moment the word left his lips, a burst of energy shot through him. A gasp tore from his throat as his body contorted away from the bed. A golden warmth poured over every strand of his being, seeping into his bones, his muscles—his soul.
Suddenly, it was all gone-the bruises, the cuts, the shattered ribs... all gone.
[System upgrade complete.]
And then, suddenly—everything went cold.