"Who did this?!"
Marcus Mahatir's voice cracked with a mix of shock and sorrow as he loomed over Xavier Cain's hospital bed, staring at the bandaged wreck before him.
The question hit Xavier like a sucker punch to the soul. Oh, how it stung! Here he was, reborn with all the cheat codes of a prophet, ready to flip his tragic fate into a triumphant saga. He'd envisioned strutting through life, outsmarting foes, and basking in glory.
Instead? He'd barely stepped onto the stage before a 240-pound dessert enthusiast flattened him into a human pancake. His grand ambitions, his dazzling future—crushed under a wobbling mountain of accidental doom.
"Can someone explain this cosmic joke?!" he wailed internally.
Of course, Xavier wasn't about to pin the blame on the poor woman who'd pancaked him. She hadn't meant it—pure bad luck, nothing more. No, his heroic heart demanded a worthier target. And there was only one name that fit the bill.
"Lugh Everveil!" Xavier growled, his teeth grinding so hard you could hear the enamel protest. "It's all his fault!"
Marcus blinked, his scholarly curls bouncing as he tilted his head. "Lugh Everveil? The guy who called me? What's he got to do with this? The doc said he hauled you here and even covered your bills upfront! You don't stumble across good Samaritans like that every day, junior brother!"
Xavier's glare could've melted steel. "Senior brother, you naive cinnamon roll!" he raged inwardly. "You've been played, and you're out here counting the coins for the guy who sold you!"
In their past life, Marcus had been Lugh's chew toy—tricked, fired from Snow Enterprises' hospital, and left to scrape by in misery. But Xavier couldn't fault him for being clueless.
"I'm the reborn one here, not you. You don't see the snake behind that pretty smile."
Lugh Everveil was a masterclass in deception. The guy had skills—tons of them—and a powerhouse family to back him up, yet he pranced around as a bumbling, spoiled rich kid. Everyone let their guard down, chuckling at the "ignorant playboy," until—bam!—he struck like lightning, crushing foes with a grin.
Worse, he didn't even stoop to dirty tricks. No, Lugh played the game clean, standing tall on the moral high ground while he dismantled you piece by piece. In the last life, Xavier and a whole squad of allies had fallen to his schemes—businesses tanked, women swooned into Lugh's arms, and dignity? Ha! That was a distant memory.
"Senior brother," Xavier hissed, his voice low and bitter, "don't let that guy's act fool you. Go dig around—he's the Everveil heir, a second-gen brat who wastes cash and flirts with trouble. A 'good person'? Please! He's rotten to the core!"
Marcus scratched his chin, skepticism creasing his brow. "Really? That bad?"
"Absolutely!" Xavier snapped, his eyes blazing. "I'd never steer you wrong, brother. He's a walking disaster—pure poison! You'll see soon enough. Just trust me—I've got your back."
Marcus nodded slowly, his faith in Xavier unwavering. "Alright, I'll take your word for it."
"Let's drop the gloom talk," Xavier said, forcing a pained smile. "I called you here for more than a pity party. I need your magic hands, senior brother—fix me up!"
He gestured at his bandaged chest with a grimace. "Three busted ribs, two months of bed rest—I can't wait that long! Get me back on my feet, pronto!"
Marcus let out a hearty laugh, his glasses glinting with pride. "You've come to the right guy, junior brother! With my skills, you'll be bouncing around in a week—good as new!"
Xavier's face lit up. "A week? Senior brother, have you mastered the seventh technique?!"
Marcus puffed out his chest, grinning like a kid showing off a gold star. "You bet! Our family's got nine legendary moves—each one a masterpiece! First eases pain, second chases chills, third cools fevers, fourth stops bleeding, fifth grows flesh, sixth heals organs, seventh mends bones, eighth revives the soul, and ninth? Well, that one's a last resort. I'm no genius like you, but I've been grinding day and night. Just cracked the seventh—bone-mending! A few jabs, and those ribs will knit faster than you can say 'ouch.' One week, tops!"
Xavier's heart soared. "You're a legend, senior brother! Fix me up—I'm counting on you!"
Inside, he was already plotting. "Lugh Everveil, just wait. Once I'm back, it's payback time!"
"Hold tight, junior brother—I've got this!" Marcus said, slinging his backpack off with a flourish.
He rummaged inside, pulling out a gleaming silver needle like a knight drawing a sword. After a quick roast over a lighter—because hygiene's a must—he turned to Xavier, his face solemn.
"Might sting a bit. You ready?"
Xavier nodded, steel in his gaze. "Bring it on. I survived last night's torture—this is nothing!"
"Alright, here we go—focus!" Marcus declared, gripping the needle like a maestro with a baton.
With a swift jab, he aimed for Xavier's chest.
Clink
The needle bounced off like it'd hit a brick wall.
Marcus blinked. "Uh… junior brother, you been secretly training some iron-skin trick?"
Xavier shook his head, baffled. "No way! If I had that kind of skill, I wouldn't be a human pretzel right now! No clue what's up—my skin's just… tough lately. Try harder!"
"Got it!" Marcus gripped the needle tighter, channeling his inner linebacker. He stabbed again, grunting with effort.
Snap
The needle bent like a limp noodle. Xavier's skin? Not a scratch.
"No biggie—I'll swap it out!" Marcus chirped, undeterred. He grabbed another needle, thicker this time, and went for round two.
Crack
Bent again. Skin still pristine.
"Third time's the charm!" Marcus swapped for an even beefier needle, determination blazing in his eyes. Jab after jab, he attacked—each attempt ending in a twisted metal casualty. The pile of broken needles grew, but Xavier's chest remained a fortress.
"I'm not losing to this!" Marcus growled, snatching his last needle. He climbed onto the bed, squatting for leverage, and thrust with all his might—every ounce of his wiry frame behind it.
Whoops!
His foot slipped on the sheets. Down he went, a tangle of limbs and dignity, the needle vanishing in the chaos.
Xavier craned his neck, concern flickering. "Senior brother, you okay?"
Marcus's face went white, his voice a strained whimper. "It… went in."
Xavier frowned. "Why don't I feel anything?"
"Because it's in my leg!" Marcus wailed, clutching his thigh. "Ow, ow, ow! It hurts like hell!"
Xavier stared, speechless. "…"
___
Across town, Lugh Everveil lounged in his penthouse, blissfully unaware of the slapstick tragedy unfolding at the hospital.
He was too busy primping for his dinner date with Jessica—because a villain's gotta look good while winning hearts. His morning taunt-fest with Xavier had been a roaring success, and now he was riding high, picturing Jessica's laugh over a candlelit meal.
___
Back at the hospital, Xavier slumped against his pillows, his grand comeback plan derailed by a rogue needle and a clumsy brother.
"Lugh's behind this—I know it!" he fumed, though he had zero proof. That unbreakable skin? Had to be Lugh's doing—some sneaky wish doubling back to sabotage him. The guy was a menace, a puppet master pulling strings from the shadows.
Marcus, meanwhile, hobbled around the room, muttering apologies and nursing his punctured pride—literally. "I'll figure this out, junior brother! Just… gimme a sec to stop bleeding!"
Xavier groaned, burying his face in his hands. "A week, he said. Full of life, he said. I'm doomed." His ribs ached, his brother flailed, and Lugh was out there living his best life. The injustice burned hotter than Marcus's lighter.
Jessica, oblivious to the hospital hijinks, breezed through her day at Snow Enterprises. Every so often, she'd catch herself humming, thoughts drifting to Lugh's goofy charm. "He's a handful, but he's my handful," she mused, already plotting how to tease him over dinner.
The deal was locked, the old gear was gone, and tonight? Tonight was for fun.
The city pulsed around them—Lugh preening, Xavier sulking, Marcus limping, and Jessica glowing. The game was afoot, and while Xavier's plans crumbled like a house of cards, Lugh and Jessica's dance was just hitting its stride.