Sunlight peeked through the pale-green curtains of the hospital room, fluttering softly in the morning breeze.
A young man sat by the window, his tired eyes following the clouds outside. Beside him, a laptop played a piece of gentle piano music its melody filling the room that reeked faintly of disinfectant. The smell was overbearing, yet somehow… calming.
The name pinned on his hospital gown read Milan.
It had been six months since he was admitted. The diagnosis: Glioblastoma, a Grade IV brain tumor.
The doctors had said that if they'd caught it earlier, he might've had a chance. But now… there was nothing left to do.
Milan leaned his head back against the pillow, the faint whir of the oxygen machine filling the silence between the piano notes. Each breath felt heavier than the last, like his lungs were starting to forget how to do their job.
His vision flickered for a moment — the kind of dizzy spell he'd gotten used to. He smiled faintly anyway. "Guess I'm running out of patches," he muttered, his voice dry and barely above a whisper.
The door opened with a soft click.
"Yo, still alive?" a voice said — teasing but laced with worry.
Milan looked over to see his younger brother, Rei, carrying a paper bag that smelled faintly of coffee and convenience-store sandwiches. Rei always tried to act casual, but the dark circles under his eyes betrayed the sleepless nights.
"Barely," Milan said with a weak grin. "You bringing me contraband again?"
"Relax," Rei snorted, pulling up a chair. "It's not food this time." He reached into his bag and pulled out a thin black laptop case. "It's a game."
Milan blinked. "A game?"
"Yeah. It's called Symphony. Some new dark fantasy thing that blew up online. People say it's… different. Like, really immersive." Rei smirked, trying to sound nonchalant. "Figured you might wanna try it. Might help you forget all the…"
Milan chuckled softly, eyeing the small monitor beside him. The heart rate monitor pulsed in time with the soft piano track.
"Forest of Curses," he murmured, reading the subtitle on the game's cover. "Sounds cheerful."
Rei laughed. "It's brutal. But you always liked those kind of games, right?"
Milan stopped the music and started to type the games name on the search bar.
"Are you trying to find info about it? I thought my big brother was cooler than that." Rei said while pouring a glass of orange juice that he brought with him.
Milan chuckled, the corner of his lips curling up. "Cooler than dying, maybe."
Rei rolled his eyes. "Dark humor as always."
"Comes with the tumor," Milan said dryly, tapping the keys.
He typed Symphony game into the search bar and scrolled through the results. His screen filled with fan posts, reviews, and concept art. Most of it looked normal—characters in dark cloaks, silver-armored knights, and ruined castles under a blood-red moon.
But one image made him pause.
It was a fan art of a man with messy black hair and sharp emerald-green eyes. No caption, just the man's piercing gaze staring directly at the viewer.
Something about it made his chest tighten.
He clicked a few gameplay videos, watching snippets of gloomy dungeons, frozen plains, and crumbling cities. Monsters, bosses, magic—yeah, all the usual dark fantasy stuff. But one thing stood out.
"There's nothing about a forest," he said, frowning. "Not even a single tree like they mentioned on the cover."
Rei leaned closer, squinting at the screen. "Weird. Maybe it's in a future update or something?"
Milan was about to reply when his breath hitched.
"Kh—!" He coughed once—then again, harder. His body jerked forward as a wet, ugly sound filled the room. "Cough—Cough—!"
The bright red liquid hit his hand.
Rei froze for a second, eyes wide—then everything happened at once.
"Hey! Hey!" His voice cracked, trembling as panic took over. "Nurse! Somebody—!"
He slammed his palm against the emergency bell; the shrill BEEP-BEEP-BEEP! tore through the room. The heart monitor spiked, its steady rhythm turning erratic.
"Help! He's—he's—!" Rei couldn't even finish the sentence. His chair clattered to the floor as he tried to keep Milan upright, but the young man's head was already lolling to the side, breaths coming out ragged and wet.
The door burst open—shoes skidding, machines wheeling in. Voices blurred together, shouting orders.
As milan started to lose consciousness, he grabbed Rei's hand with his shaking hands and said. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry for leaving you alone."
Rei's fingers trembled around his brother's hand.
"Don't—don't say that, big bro," he stammered, voice cracking as tears blurred his vision. "You're not leaving me, okay? You just need to breathe. Just breathe."
But Milan didn't answer. His eyes were beginning to lose their light. His chest rose shallowly, each breath shorter than the one before.
"Hey—hey! Big bro, come on!" Rei's voice shook as he gripped tighter, but the warmth was fading fast. "Please, you can't—You can't just!"
The sound of the machines filled the room—sharp, erratic, heartless. Nurses burst in through the door, shouting words Rei couldn't process. Hands pulled him back, but he fought against them, reaching out with desperate, shaking arms.
"Let me go! He's still breathing! He's still—!" His voice broke completely. The words fell apart, turning into ragged sobs that tore through the sterile quiet.
Milan's hand slipped slightly in his grasp, the strength gone from his fingers. Rei caught it, holding it tighter, as if his grip alone could keep his brother here.
"Big bro… please…" His tears fell onto Milan's gown, the fabric already cold beneath his touch. "Don't leave me… please don't…"
The sunlight spilling through the pale-green curtains touched Milan's face one last time. For a brief moment, it almost looked like he was just sleeping—peaceful, weightless.
Then the monitor flattened into a single, steady tone.
Rei froze. The world around him went quiet, like everything had stopped breathing. His brother's hand had gone cold in his.
He pressed it to his forehead, shaking uncontrollably. "I'm sorry, big bro… I didn't do enough… I couldn't—"
His words dissolved into the sound of that endless, hollow beep.
At the age of 26, I took my last breath. I only had one regret. My little brother. I... I leave him all alone in a cruel world.
"I... If—I could have one more chanc
e to see my brother. "
Those were my last words, without knowing what was awaiting me in the future.