The boy's eyes opened slowly. The tall windows let in a soft golden light that brushed the polished marble floor and velvet curtains. Far too opulent for the stark white hospital walls he recalled, a crystal chandelier glistened in the ceiling above him.
He moved a little, noticing that instead of the rigid hospital mattress, he was now resting on a plush bed covered in silk sheets. His face was confused.
"Where… am I? Wasn't I in the hospital?"
He tried to push himself up, his fingers shaking as he touched the edge of the bed. His body felt so weak, as though all of its strength had been sapped. The world whirled before his eyes, but he was able to raise his upper body.
He tried to stand on unsteady legs, but his knees gave way at once. With a dull thud, his body fell to the cold, polished floor.
He lay there, breathing shallowly, still unable to comprehend his purpose in this place, and the opulent silence of the room felt heavier than ever.
He struggled to his feet, palms pressed against the cold floor. He gritted his teeth, and pushed his trembling body upright, even as his legs shook fiercely. Then, he cruelly gasped and fell back down again as his knees buckled.
Refusing to lose, he crawled forward, reaching for the edge of a carved wooden table next to the bed. He held on to the finished surface for dear life, knuckles becoming pale with the effort. With all of his will, he attempted to pull himself up, and slowly, he managed to do so.
But again, his strength failed him. The sound reverberated throughout the quiet room as the table shook and a vase almost toppled over before he fell again.
The constant clatter and thuds were not ignored. A servant's eyes widened as they saw the boy sprawled on the floor as the door creaked open and they cautiously entered.
And that's when the boy's struggles stopped.
The servant's eyes widened in surprise as they saw the boy lying on the ground, and they froze at the doorway. They stood stunned for a moment, then rushed without hesitation across the room.
The servant knelt down and carefully raised the weak boy, whispering urgently, "Young master!" His body shook as if all of his strength had been sapped away, and it felt much too light.
The boy's limbs refused to comply with his desire to resist and stand alone. As he was carried back onto the plush bed, he leaned helplessly against the servant's support.
He clenched his fists feebly as he lay there once more. His heart was a mixture of frustration and despair as his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. His body was stuck in weakness, unable to do anything no matter how hard he willed it.
The servant turned swiftly toward the door after gently tucking the sheets around him. "I'll give the doctor a call immediately—"
Despite his weakness, the boy held up a quivering hand. "Hold on a second. Tell me what happened to me?" There was a desperate edge to his voice, which was hardly more than a whisper.
After hesitating and biting his lip, the servant slowly turned around. He was telling the truth, but his face was heavy.
"Young master... You were poisoned. It's a miracle you survived at all, the doctors said, because the poison was so potent. You are still alive because of God's grace.
The boy's eyes widened faintly, his heart sinking as the words echoed in his ears.
Only a hoarse sound came out of the boy's trembling lips as he attempted to form words. Observing his bewilderment, the servant leaned in and spoke quietly.
"Young master… that day, you were practicing with your sword in the courtyard. Without warning, you fell back onto the ground. At first, we thought you had just fainted from exhaustion, but when the doctors came, they found it was poison."
The servant's voice trailed off, a hint of fear in his voice. "You might not be lying here today if we had been even a bit late."
As the words sank deeply into the boy's mind, his body remained weak and immobile, even though his eyes flickered.
The servant bowed slightly. "Young master, please get some rest. I will now take a leave". He then quietly left the room, shutting the door behind him.
There was silence again. The boy's breathing was shallow as he lay still on the large bed. His eyelids became heavy gradually, and he opened them to close them.
His vision grew dark, and his mind wandered—away from the opulent room, away from this body's frailty.
Past life…
He could picture himself in a tiny chair, headphones on, his fingers flying across a keyboard and mouse. A monitor within which he could see himself and hear himself talk to thousands of viewers, he could barely see the bright glare from the monitor because he was laughing and talking so much while he streamed his game—a cacophony of clicks, of game intros, of scrolling comments. How real, how close his former world seemed!
The boy's mind sank further into memory, bringing him back to that last day.
He was curled in his chair, his face illuminated in the strange blue glow of the monitor, shadows pulling at the contours of his face. His headset was filled with the sounds of his viewers' laughter and comments.
"Today, I have something special for you all," he said, smirking at the camera. "A new game. Cracked and modded by my friend. Let's see how far we can break it."
The chat was lit when he launched the hacked game. His fingers raced across the keyboard, all sorts of code and command pulling up on screen. The game world glitched out, enemies froze in place mid-attack, walls vanished at his command, and the audience erupted in a wave of cheers and laughing emojis.
"Did you just see that? Nobody plays it like I do." He leaned back in his chair, relishing the gratification that came with breaking the rules.
But then—sparks.
A faint burning smell wafted through the tiny room. The cooling fan of the CPU screamed, lights on the motherboard blinked madly.
"What the—? " he muttered, ripping his headset off.
Just before he could get on with it, a loud pop came from inside the computer case. Electricity rushed through the wires, up through the cheap headset and into his body.
A bolt of agony hit him—sharp, bright and instantaneous. His body physically convulsed as the current raced through his system. The monitor erupted white and then fell to black.
His last memory was not of the people around him, but of his own face in the dark television screen, eyes wide in shock... followed by silence.