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/-\
"Morning already?"
Sebastian's voice came out thin and weak, barely more than a whisper, His eyes, sunken yet still holding warmth, shifted from the ceiling to the doorway as it creaked open.
"Good morning, Sebastian," the nurse said gently as she stepped inside, balancing a tray against her hip. Her voice carried the tone of habit, not tired but familiar, like someone greeting an old neighbor every day for years. "Brought you the usual. Hope you're hungry."
He managed a small smile, lips dry and cracked. "Hungry? Always. Doesn't mean I'll enjoy it."
That earned him a chuckle. She rolled the table closer to his bed and slid the tray on top. The smell of soup and boiled vegetables wafted up, bland but comforting in its own way.
"You'll eat some," she said, adjusting his blanket with careful hands. "And don't make that face, you know the rules."
Sebastian gave a sigh, tilting his head slightly against the pillow. "Yes, ma'am. Your rules are law in this kingdom."
The nurse smiled, that patient, professional smile that carried just enough humanity to make his day. She stayed a moment longer, fussing with the pillow, smoothing the sheets, then gave his shoulder a gentle pat. "I'll check on you later."
And then she was gone, the door clicking shut, leaving only the steady tick, tick, tick of the clock on the wall and the faint sound of fluorescent lights overhead.
Sebastian let out a long breath, staring at the tray untouched before him.
'It's been like this for years now...'
His thoughts filled the silence, quieter than words but sharper than any sound.
'So many years I can't even count them anymore. I don't even remember what happened, not really. I don't know if I ever truly did. Was it when I was five? Seven? Somewhere in between? All I know is something broke me, something took everything away. I can't walk, organs failing, body shutting down before it even had the chance to grow up. The doctors had names for it. I just called it… life. Or the lack of it.'
His eyes drifted across the room, over walls painted the same pale beige he had stared at for as long as he could remember. Bland, sterile. The smell of antiseptic in the air, sharp, the one constant smell of his world.
He looked at the clock again. The hands crawled forward, steady and merciless.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
That was life now. The ticking of a clock in a room that never changed.
He shifted slightly, the motion small but exhausting. His gaze lingered on the tray, then back up to the ceiling.
"I used to dream, you know," he whispered to the empty room. "Dream of running. Of seeing the world outside these walls. Of… living. Really living. But dreams don't last forever, and at the end of the day they are just dreams... reality is different and harsh."
His chest rose and fell weakly. He closed his eyes, listening to the silence.
'This bed… this room… this is all I've ever known.'
Sebastian dragged the table closer with a trembling hand, the wheels squeaking as it rolled into place. He let out a shallow breath and adjusted his body, inch by inch, until he could lean forward enough. Even that tiny movement left a dull ache spreading across his back.
The broth had cooled by now, the steam gone, but he took the spoon anyway. His grip wavered; the utensil clicked against the bowl as he scooped a mouthful. He swallowed slowly, forcing it past the tightness in his throat. By the third spoonful he had to pause, his chest rising and falling like he'd just climbed a hill.
He set the spoon down with a faint clatter, eyes drifting to the nightstand beside him.
That desk wasn't just wood and drawers. It was his world.
Comics stacked in uneven piles, spines cracked from rereads. Manga volumes with worn corners, dog-eared from nights when he couldn't sleep and needed to escape. fantasy books and novels lying face down, pages spread open like it had been abandoned mid-read. Even a cheap tablet plugged in, its cracked screen still carrying the glow of stories he'd devoured until his eyes burned.
Sebastian's lips curved into a smile. "That's where I actually lived… not here." His voice was barely more than a whisper, caught between reverence and regret. "Those worlds were mine. Where I could fight. Walk. Run. Hell, even fly.."
He reached toward the desk, fingers stretching for the nearest book. His arm shook before he even touched it. Tremors rippled down his forearm, uncontrolled, violent. His brows knit together as he lifted his hand to his face. His own fingers quivered against his will, as though now they belonged to someone else entirely.
Then came the cough. A sharp, wet crack in his chest that doubled him over. He grabbed at the blanket, teeth clenched as another tore through him. The taste of blood flooded his mouth.
When he pulled his hand back, crimson stained his palm.
Sebastian froze, staring at it. His stomach dropped, though not from fear exactly..more from the hollow feeling that came with it. "So… this is it.."
The machine by his bedside stuttered, a flat alarm splitting the stale air. Lights blinked red, casting sharp flashes against the bland walls.
The door burst open. Shoes scuffed against the floor. The nurse's voice pierced through first, sharp, urgent. "Sebastian!"
Hands pressed against his chest, trying to steady him. Another voice deeper, commanding spoke over the chaos. The doctor, maybe, but the words blurred together.
Sebastian's vision fogged, the edges darkening like a curtain being drawn. Faces bent over him, frantic and distorted, their features melting into shadow.
The antiseptic stung his nose, the beeping drilled into his ears, but none of it seemed real anymore. His body was heavy, sinking, as if the bed was swallowing him whole.
He tried to speak, but all that came out was a ragged breath. His eyes, still wet, flicked once more toward the desk the books, the comics.
Then the colors faded, the sounds broke apart, and the world slipped quietly out of reach.
It was dark. Not the kind of dark you got by closing your eyes, but the heavy, endless kind the dark.
Sebastian floated, or maybe he simply was standing there, weightless. There was no up or down. His breath echoed softly, though he wasn't sure he was even breathing.
"…Am I... dead?" His own voice sounded small in the void, swallowed immediately by the black. "It sure feels like it."
He tried to remember the room, the nurse, the beeping machines. The taste of blood. All of it slipped away.
"I always knew," he murmured, closing his eyes though it made no difference. "Always knew I'd die there. Just thought… I had more time."
A bitter laugh slipped out, dry and hollow. He rubbed his palms together out of habit, only to realize he couldn't feel his body. Nothing but the echo of himself remained.
"I never really lived, did I?" The words came out hoarse, but steady. "All those years, just reading about people with swords, capes, magic… friends. Family. And me…" He trailed off. "…I was just watching. Like a ghost before I even died."
Silence pressed in again. The void was patient.
"I wish…" His voice cracked slightly, then steadied. "If I could get another chance at life...just one maybe in a real home. With people. A family. Where I could start over. Live like I was supposed to."
He didn't expect anything. The words were only a whisper to himself, a thought too long delayed.
And then reality cracked.
It began as a soundless shiver through the dark, hairline fractures of pale gold spread through the black. Then it shattered without a sound, the void falling away and light poured in, so bright it felt solid.
Sebastian squinted against the radiance, throwing up an arm instinctively. When he lowered it, he wasn't floating anymore. He was standing. Actually standing.
/-\
If you Like this story! Check out my other stories! Shadow Monarch in Dc / Shadow Monarch in One Piece!
&
If you wish to read more or simply support me than check out my patreon at
"https://www.patreon.com/FrenzyAren"
You can Get Access Up to 7 More Chapters if you want !