The ticking of the clock in the hospital room was the only sound cutting through the silence.
Zack Dreifus stood by the bed, eyes fixed on his unconscious son, his expression unreadable. His posture was rigid, his suit immaculate, his gaze ice-cold. But behind the dim light of the room, something flickered in his eyes… something buried deep beneath the surface.
Machines hummed softly around them, monitoring Brian's fragile existence. On the bed, his face was still, serene—but it was a stillness that didn't belong to someone like him.
Zack, arms crossed, stared at his son as if inspecting a failing investment.
"...If only you could see yourself," he muttered, voice low and grave. "The most beautiful man in the world, once a genius... my son with the most potential… reduced to this."
He paused.
"I always wanted you to be like me. No... I always knew you could be better than me."
Slowly, he stepped forward. Each footstep echoed like a drumbeat in the sterile room. His tall shadow stretched across Brian's face, swallowing him in darkness.
"From the moment I held you in my arms, I knew you were different. Even at just two years old, your analytical thinking, your foresight… surpassed any adult I'd met. You were the greatest promise this family ever had... And yet, here you are."
His gaze drifted toward the monitor displaying Brian's weak pulse.
"But you never became what you should've. Life threw you enough hell to forge an unbreakable mind… and yet, you chose to stay soft. That old fool tainted your thoughts. You were too naive."
Zack exhaled, the sound drenched in disdain.
"Liliana... Did you really believe a woman like her was your equal?" His voice dropped to a near-whisper. "She betrayed you the moment she felt safe. That wasn't a mistake. It wasn't a lapse in judgment. It was a choice. That old man would've explained it to you better than I ever could."
Another heavy sigh. He ran a hand across his forehead, eyes narrowing.
"What hurts the most..." He hesitated, voice barely audible. "...is that you never lived up to what I hoped for. You've disappointed me over and over again."
His fists clenched, knuckles whitening, nails digging into his palms.
"So much wasted potential. Your intellect... your instinct... could've been the foundation of the Dreifus empire. You could've created a legacy that echoed through generations. But instead, you clung to your mother's ideals—and that old man's nonsense. Why follow such a foolish path?"
For a fleeting second, a bitter smile flickered on his lips.
"You made a mistake, son. One I never made. You believed in love."
He stepped back, pulling out a handkerchief to brush away an invisible speck from his sleeve. He straightened his stance, face turning rigid once more.
"Liliana isn't Brigitte." His tone was mechanical, devoid of emotion. "That was your mistake. Brigitte was… one of a kind. Ironically, in the end, even her image holds more value than yours."
He leaned closer, peering down at Brian's lifeless face.
"Maybe now you'll finally understand... In this world, Brian, feelings are a burden."
His jaw twitched—barely noticeable.
Zack turned toward the door.
"I'll do what needs to be done," he said coldly. "I'll rebuild Liliana's reputation, even if it means crushing yours."
He checked his phone, scrolling through financial reports. One last glance at Brian—like a painter discarding an unfinished masterpiece.
"This is for the best. Saving her image will be far more profitable. You offer me nothing in this state. You always fell short, Brian."
He took his coat and folded it over his arm.
"I can't lose the deals she represents."
Step by step, he walked away from the bed.
He stopped at the doorway, not looking back. His voice softened, almost as if speaking to himself.
"When you wake up… if you wake up… you'll understand why I did this."
His tone was hollow. Emotionless. Adjusting the sleeve of his suit, he gave one final statement to the body behind him:
"I'm heading West. I may never see you again."
And just like that, he left the room.
The only sound that remained was the steady, rhythmic beeping of machines.
A New Awakening
I woke up gasping, instantly looking around.
My vision was blurry. My head throbbed like someone had taken a hammer to it. The sharp scent of hay and old wood filled my nose.
I was lying on a stack of straw, its rough texture pricking my skin. Above me was a huge wooden cart, at least two and a half meters high. Something deep inside whispered that I had fallen from up there… but how?
I tried to move—and pain shot through the back of my head. Something hard was pressing beneath the straw. I winced and carefully touched the area.
Warm. Sticky.
Blood.
I forced myself to focus. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.
"This is a barn…" I thought, blinking hard. Looking around, the confirmation hit me like a punch. Straw piles. Farming tools. Old wooden beams, weather-worn and solid.
But something didn't fit.
"The temple… I was at the temple... So how the hell am I... in a barn?"
Panic crept in. My breathing quickened.
"What the hell happened? Where's my grandma?"
I tried to stand—but dizziness slammed me back down, and I had to brace myself with both hands.
That's when I saw it.
My hands... were small.
My arms… thin.
My whole body… wasn't mine.
I scrambled to a barrel a few feet away. Dizzy or not, I had to know.
Gripping the rim, I leaned over it and stared into the water's reflection.
A child. Maybe twelve years old.
Pale skin. Dark hair. Brown eyes.
That... wasn't me.
A shiver ran down my spine.
I was on the verge of freaking out—when a voice startled me.
At the barn's entrance stood a woman, her face full of worry. She was beautiful—fair skin, dark flowing hair, piercing blue eyes. Dressed like a maid… but somehow, she didn't feel like just a servant.
"Is this… cosplay? No… this isn't a game."
For some inexplicable reason, she felt familiar. And even stranger—I felt an affection toward her.
She stepped forward, her voice shaking.
"Sam, are you alright?"
My heart skipped a beat.
I swallowed hard, stammering.
"I-I think… you've got the wrong person."
She frowned, confusion and concern clouding her face.
"What are you talking about? How could I not know my own son?"
My eyes widened.
"WHAT!?"
Her face twisted into sadness and worry. She knelt beside me, reaching out.
"You're acting strange today... Are you okay?"
Suddenly, something warm trickled down my neck. I touched the back of my head—and saw blood on my fingers.
"I… I don't know. But my head hurts..."
She gasped, covering her mouth. Horror filled her expression.
"Oh my God… What happened to you?! We need to get you home—now!"
I tried to answer, but dizziness hit me like a wave. My legs gave out.
I collapsed.
The last thing I saw was her rushing toward me, eyes full of tears, scooping me into her arms like I was the most precious thing in the world.
She held me tightly and ran out of the barn.
As we moved, the landscape confirmed the truth.
Green fields. Horses. Stables.
"This… definitely isn't my world."
Then, a burly man with reddish-brown hair and a thick beard blocked our path.
His face tensed the moment he saw her crying.
"My love, what happened? What's wrong with our boy?!"
She struggled to answer.
"I-I don't know... He was playing in the barn and must've hit his head on something..."
"Give him to me. We need to get him inside."
With strong, steady arms, he lifted me. There was surprising warmth in his grip.
And for the first time since waking up…
I felt… safe.