In the hospital.
A man was lying in one of the hospital beds, looking out the window at the blue sky and the fluffy clouds that adorned it. He seemed to be deep in thought, his eyes showed nostalgia, but it wasn't just that; there was also something deep within his soul reflected in his eyes: he longed for something, he longed for freedom.
He didn't seem like a person who wanted something he'd never had; rather, he was a person who had already had what he now desired but didn't know the value of what he'd lost until he was in this situation. He was desperate to get up, walk around, enjoy the breeze, perhaps go to the countryside and feel the grass beneath his feet. He, who until a few months ago had the opportunity to do all of that, was now chained to his bed, fighting one of the worst illnesses, while the machines and instruments around him kept him alive.
"Mr. Cyrus, it's time for your meal", a nurse told him in a cheerful tone. She had just entered the room and saw him staring out the window as he always did. She didn't want to interrupt him, but she had to keep her shift, and unfortunately, he was just one of her many patients in this round.
"Thank you very much", Cyrus said in a dry tone, trying to sit up.
"I'll help you", the nurse said cordially. Cyrus seemed reluctant to receive her help, but since he knew it would take him a long time on his own, he accepted her offer a little reluctantly.
Cyrus sat on the bed as the nurse brought the table closer and placed the food on it. He spent the rest of the time slowly eating his meal, and if before he had only longed for freedom, now he also longed to taste hot, spicy, homemade food, not this attempt at bland food. He knew the food was cooked this way to be as healthy as possible, but the feeling on his tongue when he tasted it just made him want to throw up.
After finishing eating, he moved the table to the side, albeit with difficulty, but he managed it after a minute. He lay down slowly in his bed, staring out the window again as if it were part of his programming. He could spend the whole day doing the same thing; watching the sky and listening to the noises coming from outside were already part of his daily routine.
The sounds of the city didn't bother him; rather, they brought back mixed memories. Before, they were part of a section he didn't want in his life, but now they were a place he longed to be. City life was fast-paced, noisy, sometimes monotonous, and without regard for the people around him, but now that he was in this situation, he just wanted to be one of those people, another cog in the city's workings, just another one of the crowds.
"How's the patient's progress?", the doctor on duty asked the nurse. Cyrus had noticed them entering the room and taken the file containing his medical condition. He wanted to hear what they had to say about his current condition, so he kept his eyes closed while listening to their conversation.
"The latest chemotherapy treatments haven't worked as expected. Furthermore, if we increase the dosage, it could further affect the deterioration of its major organs. However, with the degree of metastasis and its ramification to the main organs, he won't be able to last much longer", the nurse said. Cyrus noticed concern in her voice; he recognized her as the nurse in charge of his meals, and he felt a little touched by her concern.
"I see. It's surprising that his metastatic cancer hadn't shown any signs until recently, and now that it's appearing, it's spreading very rapidly. Surely, he's the type of person who can tolerate his ailments very well", the doctor commented in a serious tone as he continued looking at the file. The date showed the day of admission as October 17, 2026. "It's been exactly two weeks, and his condition only seems to be worsening", the doctor thought, remembering that today was Halloween.
"Doctor is there anything we can do to improve your condition?", the nurse asked with a hint of hope.
"Unfortunately, not. I'm even afraid you could have multiple organ failure at any moment", the doctor said regretfully. "Contact your family to give them the news", he told the nurse.
"You only have a friend as your proxy. I'll call him right away", the nurse said sadly.
Cyrus was a little stunned. He felt his condition was bad, even thinking he only had a couple more months to live, but he didn't believe it was that serious. He had always minimized his pain with willpower alone, rarely visited a hospital, and had never had a medical checkup, so even now, he was battling the pain as he always had.
Now he was staring at the ceiling this time, staring at that mesmerizing white, while warm tears gently ran down the sides of his face and moistened his hair. He felt scared. Although he believed there was a chance of dying, he still had hope for improvement, for being one of those miracles they show on TV.
He was a little remorseful at the same time. Before entering the hospital in so much pain, he was a young man who spent his entire day playing strategy games, reading about civilizations and their technologies, and creating posts on forums and social media criticizing certain games. He could have taken another path, enjoying trips, expensive meals, romantic relationships he'd never had, spending time with friends, but no, he decided to become part of an ever-growing group of people who live connected to the internet and its tools, dependent on interactions and expressing exaggerated opinions that no one asked for.
Silence filled the room. Cyrus still felt sadness and despair, his body trembling, and his breathing slowly shortening. Now, unlike all the times before, he relaxed his body and made his will stop hiding the pain he felt. A burning sensation ran through his body, then a numbness that made every limb feel much heavier than usual. He felt stabbing pains and involuntary contractions in his internal organs. He had never felt anything like this before; with each stabbing pain, he arched in pain, and each contraction made him gasp for air. He didn't know he had endured so much pain, and now that he was aware of it, he just wanted it to go away.
Cyrus had finally discovered how bad his health was; the pain had cruelly shown him that he was beyond help. After a few minutes of enduring that pain, he realized he was no longer going to be able to survive, which brought him calm he hadn't expected. For a moment, he thought a miracle had happened, but he quickly realized his body was losing strength. He already knew his end was near, and the only thing that accompanied him in this moment of despair were the sounds of the support equipment he was connected to. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier, closing off their own volition, and Cyrus could do nothing to stop it. He wanted to think about things he'd wanted to do, unfulfilled goals, but fatigue overcame him. He felt his breath slowly slipping away, his heart stopping, and the only warning he had that he was at the gates of heaven was a beeping noise echoing in his head.
Somewhere in the Andes Mountains.
A ceremony was taking place.
Many people were celebrating outside the house. Their clothing was rudimentary, but effective. They sang and danced around ceremonial places in front of the house. They were welcoming a new life into the world, but it wasn't just any old life; it had been prophesied by some priests many years ago, as a human who would be of vital importance to the world.
This house was built with ancestral techniques belonging to these people and was decorated with gold and silver, reflecting nobility and a hint of divinity. The lesser priests led the people in singing and dancing in harmony, while praying to the gods for the baby's healthy birth. Meanwhile, the head priest stood in a room near the birthing place inside the house, praying in the same way as the other priests.
After a couple of minutes, silence began to reign inside the room. The head priest was frightened; he believed a punishment from the gods had dictated that the birth of the predestined child would not come to pass. Terrified, he ran toward this room and entered without alerting anyone.
"What happened?", he asked the child's father, upset. The man was stunned, as if he had seen something supernatural or divine. At first, he didn't process the head priest's question, so he didn't answer immediately. But after calming down a bit in the presence of the priest, he pointed to the baby wrapped in the blanket.
There was a small, brown-skinned baby. He was small compared to the size of the adults in the room, but considering the size of the babies born in this village, he could be larger than average. The priest was shocked. Looking at him, there were some things that made him very special, his gaze being one of them. The baby observed everything around him with a curiosity he shouldn't have shown as a newborn. He looked at the woman who had given birth to him with a look of gratitude at her suffering, and he showed interest in the men in the room. His gaze scanned the faces of the two men present, briefly focusing on his father, then shifting to the priest. He seemed to be trying to guess who his father was. His intelligence was remarkable, and he was only a newborn.
But what really took the people in the room's breath away was one of his eyes.
"Son of the Sun and the Moon", the head priest said reverently.
----
[A/N: CHAPTER COMPLETED
Hello everyone, as promised, here is the second chapter of our unfortunate protagonist.
We're just a couple of chapters away from witnessing the birth of a new kingdom, one that may endure forever.
Read my other novel, The Walking Dead: Vision of the Future.
You can find it on my profile.]