Fel Herron lay dazed on a hospital bed, drifting in and out of consciousness.
'I'm sorry'
It was the only thought in his head.
'I'm sorry'
To whom he was apologizing, Fel did not know, but he knew that he was in the wrong. Everything that had led up to this moment in time was his fault.
It was funny, really.
After the death of his mother, at the age of 8 Fel moved in with his uncle, a man whom he hated with every fiber of his being.
For the next decade, he lived with his uncle, who had long since fallen down the downward spiral of alcoholism.
The years of living with the man had made Fel into a shell of his former self. His sense of self and personality had withered away over time.
The universal law that people are greatly influenced by their environment and those around them held true for Fel Herron.
Without realizing it, he started becoming more and more like his uncle, who was a scam artist with a heart incapable of giving affection.
Fel would have probably left his abusive uncle a long time ago if not for the fact that his only escape from his miserable reality actually lay in his uncle's home.
Ixam.
The virtual reality game offered a sense of freedom for him. A place to live out a second life, free from the burdens of real life. It gave him a feeling of liberation that he had not felt at all since his mother's death.
Fel still remembered the time when he had gotten his hands on a VR cabin and paid for the surgery to implant a neuro connection port into the back of his neck.
Even though he had paid with his own saved-up money, his uncle had nearly killed him because of it. Only after a lot of pain and persuasion was he allowed to keep the cabin.
Only by that point, Fel's personality was far gone.
Without realizing it, he started becoming more and more like the man he hated most in the world. It was inevitable, that living in that dysfunctional home was bound to influence Fel's mind whether he wanted it or not.
He had great talent in the game but theft, betrayal, and dishonesty had left a whole lot of pissed-off people in his wake. Fel did not know how many enemies he had made but he knew it was no small number.
Had he known that his actions would land him in his current predicament, he likely would have tried to fix his attitude. Unfortunately, it was a little late for that now.
Fel guessed that someone he had wronged in the game got fed up with him and hired a hit on him in real life. While fairly uncommon, situations like these had happened in the past.
A lot of top-tier items in the game could change a person's life. Especially weapons of the Epic or Legendary tier, as they could be worth far more than the average house.
Selling any of his items was not an option as one of the demands of his uncle was that any money he made off the game would go directly to him.
So while others of his rank and caliber in the game might have enjoyed a life of luxury after selling off a few of their items, not Fel. He would rather sell the cabin than make his uncle any money.
Although he thought of it as dumb luck, Fel had managed to get his hands on a few Epic-rated weapons in the game, one of which he even stole off an upper echelon of some large guild.
That man was probably the most likely candidate for the cause of this incident.
It was not easy finding someone through the game, however.
In fact, it was nearly impossible.
Ixam's system prevented others from seeing or finding out any personal information on any player. Players just had to be careful of what they said in-game, not give out personal details, etc.
Fel did not know how he was found, nor did he remember slipping up and saying something in-game that would lead to him being found in real life. It was still a mystery to him.
What Fel could recount was an incident that had happened two days prior.
The streets were fairly crowded that morning when he was walking to his workplace, and someone with an umbrella had bumped into him. Right after, the man apologized and walked past.
There was nothing strange about that interaction, but that was the moment where Fel's fate was sealed.
It started with mild nausea and a headache, which progressively got worse as the day went on.
Eventually, when the pain was too much to bear, Fel called emergency services. Only after they put him on pain medication was he able to think clearly again.
They asked if any adults should be contacted, but he responded with a "No".
Upon responding to all the questions the medical professionals had asked him, they ran some tests which led to a horrifying discovery.
Ricin.
10mg of the substance was found to be in his body. As for the cure, there was none. The toxin caused organ failure, followed by sure death.
There was no chance of survival.
The emergency medical technicians could do nothing but give Fel pain medication and wait for him to die.
So, he lay there, waiting.
Where had he gone wrong? Why had this happened?
He was told that he had a few hours at most, but to Fel, those hours seemed to last an eternity. He found it funny, how he wished time would pass faster.
Blame.
Who to Blame.
His mother for leaving him at such a young age?
His uncle?
No.
Fel knew exactly who was at fault.
A single phrase repeated in his mind, ordered by his delirium.
'I'm Sorry'
***
The world has two kinds of people in it. Those who wished and dreamed, and those who actively worked toward their goals.
Those who dreamed seemed to always be lacking something, but they did not have the drive to work toward this 'something'.
Or was it perhaps that they lacked courage?
A realization had dawned on Fel Herron at the end.
A realization that would have changed his life.
Fel had cursed his life. He wished to not be tied down to anyone or anything and envied those with freedom.
So why didn't he do anything?
It was due to fear.
Fear of change.
The thought of living a better life was always on his mind, but he could do nothing to change his fate. Living under his uncle's roof was all he had ever known, after all.
How could he change his footing in the world if he had yet to take any significant steps forward?
At the end of his life, Fel realized that there was nothing holding him back. His fate was never tied down, for there was nothing to fear.
Fel's uncle was nothing but an illusion of authority.
For the first time in his life, Fel made an independent decision. He would no longer do what his uncle wanted him to do, or what anyone wanted him to do for the matter, and instead, do what he wanted.
There was a sense of serenity around him laying on that hospital bed. He was in discomfort and his breaths were uneven, but there was a slight slime on his face.
In the final moments of his life, Fel felt free.
But, strangely enough, when everything around him turned black, his conscience was still there. In fact, his mind was as clear as ever.
Soon a small light could be seen in the distance, gradually getting larger and larger in size.
Although muffled, Fell heard distant voices.
"Hey! Hey! Stay with me!"
"Someone bring some water, quick!
"I brought some Manaroot powder!"
Fel promptly felt the sensation of a cold liquid going down his throat, which made him have a coughing fit.
As he lazily opened his eyes, Fel saw a frenzy of people moving around him.
"He's okay! He's fine!"
"Thank the gods!"
Fel looked around but did not recognize anything around him. He was in a feudal-style workshop made of large stone bricks and wooden logs.
On some nearby tables, he made out some flasks and other miscellaneous tools.
The sight looked strangely familiar to him even though it was his first time seeing it.
After another bout of coughing, Fel mustered up all the strength in his right arm and reached to touch the back of his neck.
The back of his neck, which should have had a Neuro Connection Port jutting slightly out of it, was in fact, smooth.
Immediately a conclusion was reached and Fel knew exactly where he was.
Ixam.