Jack was unsurprised to see him on the news again.
"Sir Norman, Sir Norman! Due to extensive inbreeding, many prominent members of parliament and concerned citizens have compared the Wilson family to the modern-day Gabstone. Could you respond to these claims and shed some light on the situation?" A middle-aged woman wearing a navy-blue cashmere suit held up a branded microphone toward the back of a tall man.
The man paused his hurried steps and turned toward the reporter—his elongated jaw, sunken eyes, looming stature, and crooked nose gave him a frightening appearance, yet the reporter, determined for a response, pressed on.
"Rumors are circulating that the heir to the Wilson conglomerate is actually suffering from severe birth defects, as he has been supposedly 'recovering' from an illness since he was born. That was over eighteen years ago! The public demands an official response!"
Jack moved his head with great effort across the pillow and focused his attention on the television at the foot of his bed. His father, Lord Wilson, paused momentarily, formulating the perfect response as always.
He didn't hold his breath in anticipation as he already knew how his father would respond. His family preferred to pretend he didn't exist, a stain on their already questionable record. To hold onto power and wealth, the family engaged in some questionable practices that resulted in the situation the reporter had outlined.
They treasured the Wilson bloodline over all else, and Jack's blood was muddied. He was a bastard, born between Lord Wilson and a woman he had never met. Whoever his mother had been, any evidence of her had been wiped clean. Jack was the last remnant of his father's little affair. A bastard he was sure the man on the television wished was dead and forgotten.
His father tapped on his smartwatch, avoiding eye contact with the eager reporter. "As I've said before, I have no such son. My firstborn, Liam Wilson, shall be inheriting the conglomerate—"
"Television off."
The screen turned black, and silence filled the room. He stared at his bedridden self in the mirror of the television for a moment before sighing. Another day in this hospital, he mused. Looking around the hospital room to distract himself, he eyed his VR headset on a nearby wooden table. While his family refused to confirm his existence publicly, they didn't mistreat him in a vain attempt to keep him happy and distracted from talking to the media. Though it hadn't always been like this. Despite what the reporter had claimed, he had actually been born quite healthy. It was only a decade ago that his body suddenly started falling apart. The doctors his family hired claimed that he had an uncountable number of genetic mutations and terminal illnesses and speculated it was because his mother hadn't been compatible with the great Wilson bloodline, which he knew was bullshit. If anyone's DNA was fucked, it was his father's.
Jack looked at his bandaged body with pale skin, stick-figure limbs, and rotting black splotches.
'I used to hope that one day, I would get better and be able to once again explore the world beyond this hospital room.'
His head tilted to the side, his neck cracking as he did. Sunlight streaked through the large window, making him squint. Outside, he could see the tops of lush trees, and in the vast blue sky, clouds lazily moved by without a care in the world. Luckily, with advancements in technology, there was a way for him to experience a world.
Gathering some oxygen in his lungs, he wheezed, "Edward."
His voice croaked due to his thin windpipe. The heavy wooden door to the private hospital room quickly opened, and a middle-aged man with slick black hair strode in with measured steps.
"Young master? You called?"
"Hi, Edward."
Jack weakly smiled at the man. Edward was the only attendant who had remained by his side until this day. Once he had been deemed a lost cause by the Wilson family, the many attendants he used to rely on left. Edward was also an avid player of Savage Awakening, the best VR game he had ever played, and they often discussed strategies for clearing the game.
Edward returned a sad smile and gestured toward the aluminum and glass helmet resting on the nightstand. "More Savage Awakening today, Young Master?"
"Yeah, can you please hook me up?"
"As you wish."
Edward moved around his bed toward the table. "Are you still trying to clear the game with villain characters?"
Jack hummed in agreement rather than nodding, as any movement was far too painful for him.
"How's it been going? I haven't tried the new DLC myself yet."
"Quite bad," Jack admitted. "It's not shown in the player's status menu, but people on the forums have confirmed that all villain characters have a hidden trait called 'A Villain's Fate.' It practically guarantees the storyline to find a way to kill the player one way or another. The death flags feel endless."
"That sounds quite intense. Which villain have you been using?"
"Jack Winterfell," he replied with a frown. "I picked him because we share the same name, but I think I might have to switch out for another. He's too difficult to clear the game with."
"You should have seen what people were saying online about him."
Edward chuckled as he held the daft punk-looking helmet over his head but paused. "Young Master, today is not a good day for you."
The joyful atmosphere in the room was crushed in an instant by the weight of reality.
"The test results came back?" he asked in a cautious tone. "Are they good or bad?"
Edward shrugged. "They certainly aren't looking good."
Jack felt crestfallen for a moment. He knew this news was on the horizon. "How long do I have?"
Edward answered with silence.
"I see."
Jack looked up at the helmet. "Maybe I can survive doing one last run."
"The doctors advised against it," Edward said, "but honestly, at this point…"
Jack and Edward exchanged a look.
"When have I ever listened to them? Hook me up."
Edward nodded and lowered the helmet. There was a hum as the machine turned on. Through the visor of the helmet, he could still see the vague form of Edward past the loading screens.
"Young Master, I have something to admit."
"What's up?" Jack said as he booted up his save file for Savage Awakening.
"You don't have any terminal illnesses."
Jack was confused. "What are you talking about?"
"I've been slowly poisoning you over the last year."
There was a long pause as Jack tried to process what he was hearing. "You've been poisoning me? Since when? Why? I don't understand—"
Edward lunged forward, and a shooting pain ran throughout his body. He let out a confused gasp.
"I'm sorry about this, Young Master," Edward said.
Jack's head fell forward, and he saw his own blood tinted black by the visor wetting his T-shirt. Edward had plunged a kitchen knife into his chest.
"Did you just stab me?! I thought we were friends!" Jack wheezed, "Why did you betray me?"
"Have you ever heard the phrase 'keep your friends close, but your enemies closer'? You really should have grown a little more suspicious when I was the only one who remained by your side. Your family cut funding for you a long time ago; there should be nothing keeping me here. Yet here I stood, at your side every day."
He sighed. "Watching you slowly die."
Jack's mind was racing at a thousand miles an hour. He knew he was dying. The pain was unbearable. But his mind deserved answers. "If you poisoned me, why stab me? Why finish me off? Isn't this only going to incriminate you?"
"Incriminate me? Don't be ridiculous; the staff at this hospital are all on the Wilson family payroll, and people die at hospitals all the time. As for the poison, your body was surprisingly tough and seemed to grow resistant to the poison over time. In fact, you were on your way to recovery. So, I was forced to take matters into my own hands. It's your eighteenth birthday tomorrow, which is a problem. You would have become the legal heir to the family."
The man shook his head as he withdrew the blood-stained knife. "Your brother Liam sends his regards."
"All of this was Liam's idea? That fucking ratshit of a brother," Jack shouted as he thrashed around despite the pain. He wanted out of this hospital bed and away from this man he used to call his friend. But it was too late.
The call of death came, and an all-consuming darkness devoured him.
'No man can step in the same river twice, for it is not the same river and he is not the same man.'
Jack was shocked awake as air filled his lungs. Taking a deep breath, he blinked away the stars and the words that had accompanied him in the void. A wave of nausea followed, accompanied by the monster of all headaches that assaulted him. His throat felt parched as if he were a lost man in an endless desert.
He struggled to string coherent lines of thought as his mind seemed chaotic; memories crashed and merged. Some he recognized, but others were foreign. Vivid images of endless caves filled with pale-faced humanoids committing the most heinous acts consumed his mind and furthered his relentless nausea. It was as if two souls were competing for the same body, but instead of one winning, they were merging into one.
Jack managed to get his breathing under control and squinted while observing his surroundings.
'This isn't the hospital…'