Medical machines operated continuously in the hospital room. They monitored vital signs and maintained life support functions. The equipment had been running for four years without interruption.
A patient lay in the bed. His breathing changed from artificial to natural. His eyelids moved. Then they opened.
The ceiling was white. Fluorescent lights provided illumination. The patient attempted to move his arms. They did not respond immediately. He tried to sit up. His muscles were too weak.
The patient turned his head to the right. The room was empty except for medical equipment. He turned his head to the left. A chair sat next to the bed. Nobody was sitting in it.
The door to the room opened. A nurse entered carrying medical supplies on a tray. She looked at the patient. Her eyes widened. She dropped the tray. Medical instruments scattered across the floor. The nurse ran from the room.
The patient tried again to sit up. His abdominal muscles could not lift his torso. He remained lying flat on the bed.
Ten minutes passed. The door opened again. The same nurse returned. A doctor walked behind her. The doctor approached the bed and stopped at its foot.
"How are you feeling?" the doctor asked.
The patient looked at her but did not speak immediately.
"Do you know where you are?" she asked.
The patient nodded once.
"I am Doctor Greenwood. I have been your doctor for four years. You have been in a coma. Today you woke up. This is medically significant."
Doctor Greenwood moved closer to the bed.
"Your family will be contacted. They will come to see you. You should not worry about anything right now. You need to rest."
She touched the patient's shoulder twice. Then she spoke to the nurse about medication schedules.
The patient spoke for the first time. His voice was quiet and rough. "What happened to me?"
Doctor Greenwood paused. She looked at his face before answering.
"Four years ago you were walking on a street. A truck hit you. You sustained head trauma. Surgeons operated on you multiple times. You have been unconscious since then. Your family visited every day. They did not expect you to wake up."
The patient closed his eyes. He tried to remember the accident. He could not recall any details about it.
"I do not remember anything. I do not know my age. I do not know what year it is."
"You are fourteen years old. The current year is 2028."
The patient processed this information. His name was Darius Kingsley. He was fourteen. Four years had passed since his accident. He had been ten years old when it happened.
The nurse left the room. Doctor Greenwood wrote notes on a clipboard. The patient remained awake but did not speak.
That night, Darius experienced something unusual. He found himself in a different location. The space was white in all directions. No walls or floor were visible. Light came from everywhere equally.
A shape appeared in front of him. It was not clearly defined. It seemed to change form continuously.
A voice spoke without coming from any specific direction. "You have arrived. This is the Hustle System."
Darius looked around. "Where am I?"
"This is a space between your past identity and your current identity. You were Che Louw. You are now Darius Kingsley. I will help you understand this transition."
The white space changed. Darius could see a basketball court. Players were running. One player jumped toward the basket. Another player tried to block the shot. Both players collided in the air. One player fell and hit the court surface. His back bent at an unnatural angle.
Darius recognized himself as the player who fell. The memory was from his previous life as Che Louw.
"That was your death. Your spinal cord was damaged. Your body stopped functioning."
Darius felt emotional distress while watching the scene.
"The boy whose body you now occupy was in a coma. His consciousness was not active. You replaced it."
"Why did this happen to me?"
"I selected you randomly. I have done this for other people in different situations. You are the first basketball player I have helped."
"What are you?"
"I am a system that provides assistance to individuals who have died and been given second chances."
A rectangular display appeared in the white space. It contained text and numbers.
PROFILE UPDATED Name: Darius Kingsley Position: Not Determined Age: 14 years, 9 months Weight: 135 pounds Height: 4 feet, 4 inches
PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES Speed: 10 Acceleration: 9 Vertical Jump: 3 Strength: 10 Stamina: 13 Ball Handling: 5 Passing Accuracy: 9 Mid-Range Shooting: 8 Three-Point Shooting: 4 Free Throw Shooting: 4 Dunking Ability: 0 Layup Ability: 7 Perimeter Defense: 11 Stealing: 8 Shot Blocking: 5 Interior Defense: 8
MENTAL ATTRIBUTES Basketball Knowledge: 55 Composure: 50 Consistency: 50 Leadership: 73 Work Ethic: 95
Darius read all the information on the display.
"Your physical abilities are limited because this body has not moved for four years. Your basketball knowledge remains high because you retained memories from your previous life. Your work ethic rating is very high."
The display showed two options: "Accept System Assistance: Yes" or "Accept System Assistance: No."
Darius thought about his situation. He had been a skilled basketball player in his previous life. He died during a game. Now he was in a fourteen-year-old body that had been inactive for four years. The system offered to help him become a basketball player again.
"If I accept, what will happen?"
"You will receive training programs, skill development opportunities, and guidance. Your physical and basketball abilities will improve over time. The process will require significant effort from you."
Darius considered the options. He remembered playing basketball as Che Louw. He remembered the satisfaction of making shots and winning games. He wanted to experience that again.
"Yes, I accept."
The display disappeared. The white space began to fade.
"Training will begin when you are physically ready. First, you must recover your basic motor functions and build muscle strength. This will take several months."
The voice became quieter as the white space dissolved completely.
Darius opened his eyes. He was back in the hospital bed. Sunlight came through the window. It was morning. A different nurse was checking his intravenous line.
"Good morning," she said. "How do you feel today?"
"Better than yesterday," Darius replied.
He moved his right hand. It responded normally. He moved his left hand. It also responded. His motor control was improving.
Doctor Greenwood entered the room. She carried a tablet computer.
"Your family is driving here from their home. They will arrive this afternoon. Are you ready to see them?"
Darius nodded. He was curious about his family. He had no memories of them from before his coma.
"Physical therapy will start tomorrow. You will work with specialists to regain muscle strength and coordination. The process will be gradual."
Doctor Greenwood left the room. Darius was alone again.
He thought about the Hustle System. He wondered if it had been real or if it was a dream caused by medication. He decided it did not matter. Real or not, he wanted to play basketball again.
Darius spent the rest of the morning moving different parts of his body. His arms and legs responded to commands from his brain. His movements were slow and required concentration, but they worked.
At noon, his family arrived. His parents entered the room first. His mother approached the bed and touched his hand. His father stood nearby and smiled.
"We missed you," his mother said.
Darius looked at their faces. They seemed familiar but he could not recall specific memories of them.
"I missed you too," he said, even though he could not remember them clearly.
His younger sister entered the room. She was approximately twelve years old. She had grown significantly during his four-year coma.
"Do you remember me?" she asked.
"Not completely, but I am glad to see you."
His family stayed for three hours. They talked about events that had happened during his coma. They showed him photographs on their phones. Gradually, some memories began to return.
When they left, Darius was tired. He slept for the rest of the day.
The next morning, a physical therapist arrived. Her name was Sarah. She helped Darius sit up in bed for the first time since waking up.
"We will start with basic movements," Sarah explained. "Today you will practice sitting and standing. Tomorrow we will try walking short distances."
Darius successfully sat up without assistance. Standing was more difficult. His leg muscles were weak from four years of inactivity. Sarah supported him while he stood for thirty seconds.
"This is normal progress," she said. "Your strength will return gradually."
Physical therapy continued for six weeks. Darius practiced walking, balancing, and basic coordination exercises. His muscles grew stronger. His endurance improved.
During his seventh week in the hospital, Darius was cleared for discharge. He would continue physical therapy as an outpatient. His family took him to their house, which he had not seen for four years.
The house looked familiar. His bedroom had remained unchanged during his coma. Basketball posters hung on the walls. A basketball sat on his desk.
Darius picked up the basketball. It felt natural in his hands despite four years without touching one. He dribbled it twice on the floor. The sound was exactly as he remembered.
That night, the white space appeared again in his dreams.
"You have recovered basic motor functions. Basketball training can now begin. Are you ready?"
"Yes," Darius said.
"Report to the school gymnasium tomorrow at 4:00 PM. Wear athletic clothing. Bring the basketball from your room."
The white space disappeared. Darius woke up in his own bed for the first time in four years.
He was ready to start playing basketball again.