Darkness consumed me entirely, thick and suffocating. My consciousness felt suspended, weightless yet trapped. Panic gripped me as realization sank in—I was dying. The thought echoed through my mind, relentlessly oppressive. My awareness began fading, the void growing deeper and colder.

  Then, faintly, distant voices penetrated the abyss. At first muffled, indistinct, then gradually clearer—urgent, frustrated voices I recognized belonged to corporate officials.

  "Get them out of here," a harsh voice commanded sharply. "We don't have time for grieving couriers."

  "We’re not leaving him like this!" Track shouted back angrily, desperation clear in his voice. "Dion deserves better!"

  "Please," Enny pleaded softly, her voice trembling with restrained tears. "Just give him a little more time. He might still—"

  "Track, Enny—please," another official interrupted impatiently, tone sharp and dismissive. "You need to leave. Now. This is corporate business."

  "This is a human life, not just business!" Track roared, his voice breaking slightly. The pain in his words pierced deeply through the fog surrounding me, igniting a spark of anger and determination in my fading consciousness.

  "Everyone out!" a corporate voice snapped, commanding finality clear. Footsteps echoed, reluctant and slow, accompanied by murmurs from the other Apex members. Rune's voice floated briefly through the confusion, firm but clearly frustrated, "You’re making a mistake. Dion had potential."

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  Mika added fiercely, "This isn’t right. You’re treating him like he's disposable."

  "Enough!" The corporate official barked again sharply, his tone laced with impatience and contempt. The sounds of protest grew faint, footsteps fading, and doors sealing firmly shut.

  As the room finally cleared, the corporate voices turned colder, filled with detached contempt.

  "Such a waste of resources," one voice scoffed angrily, irritation clear. "All this effort and investment, wasted. Contact Rex immediately—he'll replace Dion. He was our second choice anyway."

  "And what about the other workers?" another voice asked icily, devoid of any compassion. "How do we explain Dion's absence without raising suspicion?"

  "Simple," the first voice replied chillingly. "Tell everyone Dion caved under pressure and quit. We'll provide his family a generous financial package to buy their silence."

  There was a moment of quiet before the second voice spoke again, darker, colder. "And if they refuse the offer?"

  "Then we’ll handle it," came the reply, cold and ruthless. "Arrange an accident. No loose ends, remember?"

  The chilling indifference, the blatant threat toward my family, ignited a furious, desperate rage deep within my consciousness. My family was innocent—how could they even consider harming them? I screamed internally, the fear and panic replaced with overwhelming defiance and anger.

  I wouldn't let them do this. I couldn't.

  Suddenly, the darkness fractured violently, my consciousness surging with a wave of fierce resolve. My mind screamed in defiance, my soul refusing to surrender. And then—unexpectedly, impossibly—a sharp, unmistakable beep pierced through the silence.

  The corporate voices froze abruptly, confused and alarmed. "What was that?"

  My heart monitor spiked back to life, each steady beep resonating powerfully, declaring unequivocally that I was still here, alive and fighting—that I wasn't finished yet.

  [Join our Patreon]()

  [Join our Discord]()