In the emergency ward of a renowned hospital, a young man stared blankly out the window.
Nothing about his appearance truly set him apart from others, yet he exuded a deep melancholy and bore weakened features.
This sickly look made it clear he was in the terminal stage.
The countdown on his life had begun long ago, his body slowly wasting away day by day.
At best, he had only a few months left.
"Am I really going to die?" the young man asked, lifting his eyes toward the yellowish figure who had just entered the room.
He was speaking to his doctor.
The man wore a yellow protective suit, the kind used by scientists handling hazardous materials.
Here, the patient himself was the "contaminated source."
The scientist observed the dying man for a long moment before letting out a heavy sigh.
"Unfortunately… I'm sorry, but current technology cannot repair genetic damage of this magnitude," he said in a regretful tone.
"Nuclear radiation has caused too much havoc… All we can do is slow the progression by stabilizing your condition," he added after a brief pause.
"I see. Deep down, I knew it would be hard to pull through," the young man replied dejectedly.
His gaze swept over the doctor in his hazmat suit, then returned to the urban scene visible through the window.
Watching the ordinary lives of passersby and hospital staff, he clenched his fists beneath the blanket.
The gesture lingered for a moment before he took a long breath, as if he had just made up his mind.
"Doctor… I know suicide doesn't open the gates of heaven—if such a place even exists. Still, I-I want euthanasia. I don't want to die in excruciating pain, with every cell in my body rotting from radiation," he said firmly, without the slightest hesitation.
He had made his decision.
The young man fixed the doctor with a resolute stare, and the latter could see in his eyes that his will would not waver.
Looking at the pale, bedridden patient, the doctor replied with concern:
"Jacob… you shouldn't give up so easily. Maybe one day a technology capable of treating your genetic damage will appear, and—"
Not out of mere sympathy, but because he refused to go against his Hippocratic oath.
"Doctor, there's no point saying more. I know my condition perfectly well," Jacob answered, gripping his hospital gown in frustration.
"It's impossible for a cure to appear fast enough. After all, this isn't some ordinary genetic disease." Looking at the doctor, Jacob explained his view in a low voice.
Faced with the young man's determination to die, the doctor fell silent.
After all, genes damaged by nuclear radiation were incurable with modern medicine.
The wall clock ticked slowly after Jacob's words.
One second…
Two seconds…
Three seconds…
After five long minutes of silence, the doctor finally spoke.
"Do you have any final wish? Tell me. I'll pass it on to my superiors, and they'll do their best to fulfill it," he said in a neutral voice tinged with a hint of sympathy.
As for the doctor's promises, Jacob knew they were empty.
After all, even though human casualties from the radioactive leak had been minimized thanks to him, the government had completely abandoned him once media attention died down.
If only I hadn't left my apartment that night… he thought to himself.
About a month earlier, around 4 a.m., a car accident had occurred.
Two unidentified individuals—drug addicts—had gotten behind the wheel and taken a curve at full speed, crashing head-on into a wall.
An ordinary car accident, on the surface.
But the contents of the vehicle were anything but ordinary.
The impact hurled a silver metal box roughly twenty cubic meters in size through the window.
It landed and burst open exactly where Jacob was smoking on the sidewalk.
Unfortunately, the highly radioactive material inside spilled onto the cold ground.
Perhaps out of curiosity, ignorance, or plain stupidity, Jacob approached the open box.
He noticed the strange glowing substance but thought it was some kind of prank.
That's why he paid no attention.
And just as he was about to help the crash victims, he suddenly started bleeding from his nose.
The bleeding wouldn't stop, even after several minutes.
That was when Jacob began to panic slightly—he still didn't understand what was happening.
Eventually, he spotted a familiar symbol on the overturned box.
The radiation hazard symbol.
You didn't need to be a genius to figure out what that meant: he had just been exposed to highly radioactive material.
He knew it was probably the end for him.
Yet he didn't want anyone else to suffer the same fate that morning.
Jacob immediately gathered the radioactive material, put it back in the box, and called the police to report the situation, staying on site to wait for emergency services.
Even if he wanted to get away from the box, he had already been irradiated. He himself could now be a contamination source and cause even more damage than the initial spill.
While he was acting, both cars exploded shortly afterward.
Did he regret their fate? No.
Those two men had endangered his life and the lives of everyone in the neighborhood.
Jacob genuinely resented them.
Soon after the call and the explosion, specialists arrived to handle the nuclear incident.
That was how Jacob ended up in this hospital for treatment.
"A wish? Do you believe in reincarnation?" he suddenly asked the doctor.
The man was slightly surprised by the question but simply answered "no."
Jacob gave a faint smile at the reply before continuing:
"I'd like to be reborn somewhere else… it doesn't matter if I get some random power like in the stories I read to escape reality… but I'd like to be an angel," he said in a melancholic tone.
His once-empty eyes now held a strange glimmer that the doctor interpreted as a spark of hope.
"Sorry, I can't help you with something like that. I can't even pray for you… I'm an atheist," the doctor explained after a short pause.
"That's fine, haha. I'm an atheist too. It's just… the idea of dying… never mind. When will the euthanasia take place?" he asked, turning his attention back to the window.
The young man clearly wanted to avoid dwelling on his mental state in the face of imminent death.
An understandable reaction, and the doctor soon explained the details of the procedure.
Thus the day passed, and time continued to flow in the hospital.
Finally, the scheduled day of euthanasia arrived.
Jacob was even paler than during his last meeting with the doctor.
He was bedridden, watching the doctors in their yellow protective suits.
The doctor could feel his intense gaze but continued preparing the euthanasia anyway.
It took a few minutes to finish the preparations before turning his full attention to the dying man on the bed.
"Jacob, everything is ready. Still, I want to make sure you don't wish to inform any family," he asked calmly.
Jacob gave a small smile and answered:
"Family? I only had my parents, and they've been gone a long time. I don't have any real friends because I'm a bit introverted."
Jacob's social life could be seen as odd, but he accepted it as it was.
He had never been the type to mingle or follow the crowd.
Jacob was a quiet person… unless the topic was fictional stories or video games.
Unfortunately, people didn't really appreciate his interests, neither in college nor at work.
All of this led to Jacob having very few friends.
"When will the euthanasia begin? The pain all over my body is intense. I'm even starting to lose my hair," he asked after a brief pause.
"I understand. The procedure will begin immediately. We will use the least painful drugs so you pass without suffering."
After those words, the doctor got to work without delay.
He took a syringe, filled it with an unknown substance, and approached Jacob.
"Jacob, we're about to start. Any last words?" he asked, pressing the needle against his skin.
"No, you can begin," Jacob replied, trying to relax.
Once he had confirmation, the doctor began injecting the drug.
As the substance entered his system, Jacob gradually lost sensation in his body.
In that precise moment, the fear of death and the fragility of life struck him with renewed intensity.
He had long ignored those feelings, but they suddenly returned stronger than ever.
"Am I going to die?" The question escaped him as the drug spread through his veins.
Drip—
A single tear rolled down his cheek as he felt his heartbeat slow.
Thinking became difficult as lack of oxygen began affecting his brain.
Finally, the young man closed his eyes, and his vision faded to black.
Acceptance was Jacob's final emotion…
and not fear, as he had expected.