The Disgraced Heir's Revenge

The System's Gift

POV: Ethan Cole

The system was pulsing red, and I'd never seen it do that before.

[EMERGENCY MISSION PRIORITY OVERRIDE] [TIME TO DANIEL CROSS ARRIVAL: 2 HOURS, 14 MINUTES] [CATHERINE COLE IN IMMEDIATE DANGER]

Two hours. I had two hours to get across the city, get into the hospital, and figure out how to stop Daniel from whatever the hell he was planning to do to my mother. My hands were already moving, grabbing supplies from the safe house. The forged ID, cash, a jacket that would cover the cast on my arm. But the system kept flashing, insistent, demanding my attention.

[EMERGENCY SKILL UNLOCK AVAILABLE] [ADVANCED COMBAT TRAINING - LEVEL ONE] [WARNING: COST - $25,000 FROM EARNED REWARDS] [WARNING: LOCKS ALTERNATIVE SKILL PATHS] [RECOMMENDED FOR CURRENT THREAT ASSESSMENT]

Twenty-five thousand dollars. Half of what I'd earned from the first mission. And it would lock me out of other skills I might need later.

But Daniel was bringing guards. Professional ones, based on the security footage patterns the system had analyzed. And I was one guy with a broken arm and cracked ribs going up against trained security in a hospital where I couldn't exactly start a fight without getting arrested.

I needed every advantage I could get.

I selected yes.

Pain exploded through my entire body like someone had plugged me into an electrical socket. My muscles spasmed, my broken arm screamed, and I went down hard on my knees. Fuck!

Fighting knowledge flooded my brain immediately, pure muscle memory. How to throw a punch that would actually do damage. How to pivot on the balls of my feet for maximum force. How to read someone's center of gravity and predict where they'd move before they knew it themselves. Jabs, crosses, hooks, kicks, grappling techniques, pressure points…. the whole deal.

My body learned in thirty seconds what should take years of training. When it finally stopped downloading, I was gasping on the floor, covered in sweat, shaking like I'd just run a marathon. But when I pushed myself up, my movements were fluid despite the injuries. Fuck yeah!

[SKILL INTEGRATED: ADVANCED COMBAT TRAINING - LEVEL ONE] [PAIN SUPPRESSANT AUTO-UPGRADED TO COMPENSATE] [COMBAT MODE AVAILABLE WHEN NEEDED]

I tested it, throwing a few experimental punches at the air. My body moved with precision that felt impossible. It was like I was piloting someone else's muscles. The broken arm still ached, but the pain was manageable now.

The system had turned me into a weapon. Or at least started the process.

Forty minutes later, I was standing outside City General Hospital wearing maintenance coveralls I'd bought from a twenty-four-hour workwear store. The toolbox in my hand contained lock picks, a taser I'd acquired from a very questionable website, and medical supplies the system said I might need.

My new ID badge identified me as a systems technician responding to a maintenance call on the third floor. Far enough from the ICU to avoid immediate suspicion but close enough to access the service corridors.

[SECURITY BYPASS CODE: 4-7-2-9-#]

I punched it into the keypad, and the service entrance clicked open. Easy.

The hospital at night was a different place than during visiting hours, it’s quieter. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, and the smell of antiseptic was even stronger without the crowd of visitors to dilute it. I moved through the corridors with confidence because hesitation would get me caught, and the system's minimap guided me around security cameras and night staff.

The ICU corridor was dimly lit. One nurse sat at the central desk, focused on her computer screen and the mountain of paperwork beside her. I waited for the system to show me the window, thirty seconds when her attention would be completely occupied.

[OPENING IN 3... 2... 1...]

I slipped past and into Mom's room, closing the door silently behind me. She looked so small.

That was the first thing that hit me. Mom had always been this force in my life, strong and capable and the person who held everything together when Dad died. But lying in that hospital bed, surrounded by machines that breathed for her and beeped steadily, she looked fragile.

Her brown hair had more gray in it than I remembered. Her face was thinner, and the monitors cast shadows that made her look like a ghost. Rage burned in my chest, hotter than any pain my injuries had caused.

I moved to the IV stand and examined the medication bags. The system overlaid information across my vision, breaking down chemical compositions and dosage rates.

[ANALYSIS: DRIP RATE 47% ABOVE RECOMMENDED] [SEDATIVE DETECTED: NOT PART OF STANDARD PROTOCOL] [DOSAGE SUFFICIENT TO MAINTAIN INDUCED UNCONSCIOUSNESS]

Daniel had been keeping her sedated. Enough to trap her in the coma while maintaining plausible deniability if anyone questioned her treatment. The bastard had probably bribed someone on staff to look the other way.

My hands shook as I followed the system's instructions, adjusting the IV flow rate and removing the bag with the unauthorized sedative. The glowing overlay showed me exactly what to do, where to reconnect lines, how to make it look like nothing had been tampered with.

[CORRECTION COMPLETE] [ESTIMATED TIME TO CONSCIOUSNESS: 18-24 HOURS]

Mom would wake up. Finally.

I was preparing to hide in the bathroom and wait for Daniel when the door swung open.

Thirty minutes early.

Daniel walked in, and my heart stopped.

He wasn't alone.

Two men in private security uniforms followed him, large and professional with the kind of bearing that screamed ex-military. Daniel's blue eyes went wide when he saw me standing beside Mom's bed. 

"Well," he said, and his voice was flat in a way I'd never heard before. "You're harder to kill than I expected."

The security guards flanked him, and I watched their hands drift toward concealed weapons under their jackets. 

"You shouldn't have come back here, Ethan." Daniel stepped closer, and the fluorescent lights made his face look almost skeletal. "You've made this necessary."

He gestured to one of the guards, and the man produced a syringe filled with clear liquid that glittered in the light. My stomach dropped.

"Your mother's injuries are about to overcome her," Daniel said, casually, no remorse in his eyes. "Very tragic. And then we're going to ensure you have a matching accident. Can't have you running around causing problems."

The system interface exploded across my vision.

[COMBAT MODE ACTIVATED] [OPPONENTS: 3] [THREAT ASSESSMENT: EXTREME] [ANALYZING WEAKNESSES...]

Red targeting overlays appeared on all three men. The guard with the syringe had a favoring his left knee, old injury, probably. The second guard was right-handed and positioned poorly. Daniel himself had no combat training, just arrogance and hired muscle.

My new skills were about to get their first real test. And if I failed, Mom died and I probably died with her. The guard with the syringe moved toward Mom's IV line, and something cold and focused settled over me.

Not today, Daniel.

Not fucking today!