Building a Second Life

Building a Second Life

Maiga Ardeni

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The cold seeped into my bones, each beat of the heart monitor a countdown to my end. My name is Ethan Miller, and I was dying, wasted by an illness the doctors couldn't explain. The System, an emotionless voice in my head, confirmed my mission failure: I had refused to play the villain, refused to hurt my adoptive aunt, Eleanor Vance, the woman I loved with everything I had. My reward for being the "good guy" was this hospital bed, my body shutting down because I wouldn't sabotage Eleanor' s perfect romance with the sculptor Liam Stone. The door opened, and Eleanor entered, radiant in a tailored dress, her arm linked with Liam' s. Her voice, smooth and practiced, feigned concern, but her eyes held impatience and distaste. She played the grieving aunt, while Liam, naive and kind, looked at me with pity. I rasped out that I was fine, but Eleanor, with a cruel smile, claimed the doctor said it wasn't looking good. She then held up a wooden bird, a phoenix I had carved for her years ago, a symbol of hope. On a live news broadcast, she declared it a symbol of "misguided love," then nonchalantly tossed it into a staged fireplace, burning my creation, my heart, to ashes. As the monitor flatlined and the System bond terminated, her triumphant smile was the last thing I saw. The rage was a physical thing, burning hotter than any fever. But then, a new, ancient voice offered me a second chance, a Rebirth Protocol. This time, I would embrace my designated role as the villain, and survive.

Introduction

The cold seeped into my bones, each beat of the heart monitor a countdown to my end.

My name is Ethan Miller, and I was dying, wasted by an illness the doctors couldn't explain.

The System, an emotionless voice in my head, confirmed my mission failure: I had refused to play the villain, refused to hurt my adoptive aunt, Eleanor Vance, the woman I loved with everything I had.

My reward for being the "good guy" was this hospital bed, my body shutting down because I wouldn't sabotage Eleanor' s perfect romance with the sculptor Liam Stone.

The door opened, and Eleanor entered, radiant in a tailored dress, her arm linked with Liam' s.

Her voice, smooth and practiced, feigned concern, but her eyes held impatience and distaste.

She played the grieving aunt, while Liam, naive and kind, looked at me with pity.

I rasped out that I was fine, but Eleanor, with a cruel smile, claimed the doctor said it wasn't looking good.

She then held up a wooden bird, a phoenix I had carved for her years ago, a symbol of hope.

On a live news broadcast, she declared it a symbol of "misguided love," then nonchalantly tossed it into a staged fireplace, burning my creation, my heart, to ashes.

As the monitor flatlined and the System bond terminated, her triumphant smile was the last thing I saw.

The rage was a physical thing, burning hotter than any fever.

But then, a new, ancient voice offered me a second chance, a Rebirth Protocol.

This time, I would embrace my designated role as the villain, and survive.

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