Ding
[Unholy Lust System Activated]
[Unholy Apprentice Selected]
[Unholy Quests Aligned]
[Unholy Synchronization Initiated]
[Generating Profile…]
Generating…
Generating…
"What the fuck…?"
The words slipped out of Shane's mouth before he could stop them. His voice cracked as he unknowinglyshouted out.
His eyes were locked onto the translucent interface that was floating silently before him, its pale glow reflected a little bit faintly in his eyes.
The screen did not cast a shadow. It did not distort the air around it. It simply existed, it was just suspended in the air as naturally as if it had always been there.
His breathing slowed down.
No. This isn't real, he told himself. It can't be.
His mind searched for explanations—anything that could make it seem logical. Maybe Lack of oxygen. Brain trauma. Medication side effects. A dream perhaps?.
Yeah… that's it, he thought desperately. I'm dreaming.
But the longer he looked at it, the more impossible that explanation became.
He slowly turned his head, scanning the room with careful precision.
The hospital walls were still as they were when he woke up both in colour and feeling, the scent of antiseptic was still there.
The silent hum of medical equipment completely filled the silence,which was broken only by the steady, rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor to his left hand side.
Everything looked exactly the same as it had earlier.
He shifted a little bit, adjusting himself, his movement was clumsy and a bit stiff—too real. He reached down and gripped the edge of the mattress, feeling the coarse fabric through his fingers.
Dreams don't feel like this, he thought.
He pinched his arm. Hard.
"Ow—fuck."
The pain was sharp and swift.
Shane swallowed.
Okay… so not a dream.
That realization made him more stressed out.
He fixed his eyes back to the floating interface. The words were still there, they were motionless now, as if waiting for something. Waiting for him.
Did I fall asleep while resting? he wondered. Am I still unconscious somehow?
The confusion weighed heavily on him, this was very unusual. His thoughts were scattered, overlapping, each one more unsettling than the last. The longer he stayed silent, the more he began to painc.
Unable to endure it any longer, he reached for the emergency call button beside his bed and pressed it.
The red light blinked on.
Seconds passed. Then a minute.
Finally, the door opened, and the nurse from earlier rushed inside.
"Is everything alright?" she asked, concern could be heard in her voice as she approached the bed.
Shane's eyes immediately went to her face.
It was the same nurse.
Same hairstyle. Same uniform. Same calm, professional expression.
That confirmation alone made him more restless.
If this was a dream, it was far too precise.
What are the chances, he thought grimly, that my brain would recreate her perfectly?
"Is something wrong?" she asked again, noticing his silence.
Shane hesitated. He did not know how to ask her what he was about to but he did so anyway.
Slowly, cautiously, he raised his hand and pointed forward.
"Do you… see that?" he asked.
The nurse followed his gesture, her eyes moving through the empty space in front of him. She turned to his hand pointed direction.
"See what?" she asked.
The words hit him harder than he expected.
She didn't see it.
His hand dropped back onto the bed immediately.
"Oh—sorry," he said quickly, forcing an awkward chuckle. "I thought I was seeing something."
The nurse looked at his face closely now, her expression starts to soften. "You may be experiencing some hallucinations," she said gently. "That's fairly common after waking up from a coma."
Hallucinations.
The word echoed in his head, and almost gave him comfort.
"We'll give you some medication," she continued. "It should help reduce any lingering effects."
"Okay… yeah," Shane replied, though his voice lacked conviction.
The nurse nodded reassuringly and exited the room.
As soon as she was gone, Shane exhaled shakily.
He had never hallucinated before. The idea alone unsettled him deeply. To see something so vivid—so undeniably present—that no one else could perceive felt scary.
He had heard of self-induced hallucinations, the kind people chased after by taking drugs, losing themselves to distorted visions and false enlightenment. Stories about it floated around like urban legends—Yet no matter how curious he was, fear always won.
He was too much of a pussy to ever give it a try himself, his nerves tightening at the very thought of surrendering control. Worse still, he couldn't even bring himself to be around people who did. Their reckless smiles and dumb confidence made him angry, as if they were standing on the edge of something dangerous while pretending it was freedom.
So he kept his distance, choosing safety and sobriety, even if it meant remaining forever on the outside, watching a world he would never dare to touch.
It didn't harm him much, he was already lacking in the friends department so what would less do to him right?
He stared back at the interface.
It hadn't flickered. It hadn't faded.
If anything, it seemed much clearer now.
If this is a hallucination, he thought, then why does it feel so… intentional?
Minutes passed in silence. Every sound in the room felt amplified—the hum of the lights, the distant footsteps in the hallway, the quiet sound of his own heartbeat.
Then the nurse returned, carrying a small tray.
"Here," she said kindly, handing him a cup of water and several pills. "Take these in order."
Shane nodded and did as instructed, swallowing each pill carefully. As he did, his eyes kept drifting back to the floating interface.
Still there.
Unmoving.
Watching.
As the medication settled in his stomach, a strange sense of unease crept over him. Not the type that he had expected—but something sharper.
Clearer.
The interface blinked faintly.
Then a new text began to form.
Shane's breath caught in his throat.
Whatever this was…
It was not going away.
And deep down, past the fear and confusion, he started realizing something.
This wasn't something happening to him.
This was something that had chosen him.