---

The day you leave this world is the end of a journey, looked upon by many with dread.

But not right here. At this moment, Philip shivered in his bed. A place he was acquainted with, this nest he lived in for almost 19 years.

What others saw as just a hospital bed was also his home, and it always had been. That was all he truly ever knew.

However, everything changed lately as slight discomfort twisted into a dreadful timer, ticking ever slightly faster.

Knowing the end was coming didn't make it easy to see. So, this young man could notice in the eyes of others the pity of what could never be.

And, indeed, he could never be young, healthy, and lively. He could only be whatever he was for a while more. They all knew it, and he knew it too.

Yet, confronted with a death proposal and a painful shower of mortality, Philip still smiled at his brother.

He couldn't hide the shivering, but his eyes, those bright eyes, made why he was shivering slightly blurry.

"Joji, is the title truly confirmed?"

"Yes, we finally got the hardware working. It has been a long time coming. And while not optimal, a virtual space is possible."

"Truly era-defining," Philip commented with enthusiasm.

"I'll be getting one of the early pieces for you. I would love your feedback." George promised.

"Well, are the demos going to?" But Philip broke into a coughing fit due to being overly excited.

This much-anticipated visit had to be cut short, but this wasn't the first time. Recently, what changed the atmosphere was how often those various fits were happening.

Everyone was worried about this young man's deteriorating condition. But only a miracle could turn his situation around.

And Philip was also very aware of it, about how unlucky he was. But also at how privileged he was for still being alive. Most born with this much might dismiss it to some level. But he felt very mindful about how much it took to keep his body barely functioning.

Because he felt it, how much his body was breaking apart. And just as much, how effective was each treatment at diluting the timer above his head.

But here and now, as all the medicine took effect, Philip just peeked for his brother's image, burning that worried face to his memory.

He felt guilty for making his brother feel guilty, but they both knew. If they didn't meet, no one else would come. Since, over the years, they all slowly stopped visiting.

If his brother didn't come, Philip would die alone, on the warmest and most comfortable bed money could buy. He would slowly sink into this luxurious technological nest. His life required armor.

But the warm room couldn't stop his cold sweat.

The expensive lighting couldn't hide his pale face.

And while money could buy him time. Not the kind of time they wanted. The room was just too heavy.

So, as he lost consciousness, he wanted to remain awake to listen to the sweet voice of his brother. But he couldn't.

Relaxed and with some of the pain gone. This almost as sweet nothingness embraced him, denying the moment from him.

---

Waking up, Ben Higgs was covered with cold sweat and shivering.

He had cried in his sleep, his face paler than usual.

His lost eyes filled with a weird mixture of longing and emptiness.

Yet, he wasn't an elder on his deathbed. Although, he didn't know why exactly he had such intuition as soon as he woke up.

"Not this again, not another memory down the drain." He mumbled as he sat on his old bed.

His reaction in his sleep almost felt like a mirage after he readily, so robotically, made a choreographed sequence of checks.

A dreadful worry tried to take over him.

So with all his focus, he checked his body and mind condition.

However, he didn't feel overwhelmed since he was used to this.

After finishing his physical self-check, he went smoothly into the lotus position. Quickly, he fell into deep meditation.

He chose to make sure his life force wasn't going into disarray.

That was when something magical happened. As Ben's vitals slowed down, seemly dead, a storm began inside him.

Invisible to the outside. This elder in the bed acted upon his life vitals with mastery, some unreal fine control of all his energy.

An astonishing act concealed inside some cheap and broken old house. With no fancy surroundings or security. Just a body with something weird happening inside.

This event looked unimpressive from the outside. But would make anyone from earth spiral into madness. FANTASY!

But even to the people from this world, those accustomed to a lot more possibilities. They would still go crazy when knowing of Ben's skill level.

And as if knowing that too, Ben readily stopped his deep meditation, spending not even two minutes in it.

With his mind sharpened, he looked around, finally calming down.

He was still here, on Spirit. Same old house, same old body, and the same old daily routine.

He still lived on this planet with a name that still sounded silly to him, even after thousands of years.

And no logic shook that conclusion of his. Despite him knowing, it just sounded as silly as Earth.

Because here, there was just some Spirit in the air, which defined everything.

Not surprisingly, since this was indeed a construction of most fiction dreams: A mystical power that reshaped destiny.

However, once calming down, there was no pridefulness in his actions, just some overly cautiousness.

And while he feared the potential for tragedy, Ben took his impoverished surroundings without judgment.

Living in the slum didn't affect him, and he didn't even miss that vague luxurious bed from his decaying memories.

He just missed the people he loved.

And because of that, right now, Ben felt nostalgic. He knew the nightmare was from his time on Earth, although he didn't know when exactly.

But, given his reaction, he could limit the range for his last year or so.

And that was now gone, poof into the oblivion.

However, his strongest emotion at this moment wasn't nostalgia or sorrow. It was this impulsive and vigorous instinct of wanting to know, to get it back, that which he lost. But this wasn't his first round. So, he knew it. That piece of himself was lost, forever.

He only had whatever he had, this magical second shot at life. So, he valued it.

The fear couldn't take over him.

Even now, his surrounding couldn't be more magical for him. As he still had his acquired sense of agency.

So he acted upon it. His old body moved with vigor, getting him out of bed. He quickly set himself into a presentable state. Simple and clean.

His presentation had no sense of vanity in it. He looked just like someone that should be retired somewhere with great-grandkids.

But this world was sometimes brutal and made people into unstoppable machines. And that was what Ben was.

People seeing him judged him as being a failed cultivator. Fallen from the path of success but still clutching to every possibility. A lost cause, a shadow of a once young and hopeful desire.

He was not the only one walking around like that, giving up comfort for a chance of longevity and power. Zombies-like, but still survivors, hoping for an unlikely miracle even in these mystic lands.

And like them all, Ben also gambled himself through the ruins of some fallen civilization, looking for crumbs but hoping for treasures.

And today should be only another day in his journey. So, he didn't take long to leave his house, despite the growing impulsiveness brewing inside him.

Unfortunately, he didn't have the time to digest his losses fully, so he could only damp that and wait.

Getting out of the shabby house, Ben felt full of life.

While his mind and body kept breaking apart, he could still do something.

His action might work as a mask, but that was also him. A hopeful elder, moving forward.

Others might see this elder walking around and look straight past him. But Ben was self-aware. He was slightly different from his peers.

While he had no world-breaking destiny as he once dreamed of, he hacked himself into having some extra time at a price few would pay.

With such experience, he worked on being very successful in his concealment. So, he mostly blended well within the crowd. His actions consistently suited the circumstances. And his background was always average and without surprises.

But if looked at closely, some could notice his unusual and excessive cautiousness.

Despite being old and seemingly in his last steps, he stayed one step away from death-seeking madness.