The sound of machine beeps and air conditioning exhausts woke him up. He dreamed of happier times when he was young, and his parents were alive. When he met a brown-eyed pretty girl for the first time. He was so struck by her beauty that he decided he would marry her when they grew up.
And he did marry her. Now, he wished he hadn’t.
Victor was beleaguered during his married life, but he never suffered from physical weakness. The man never got sick, injured, or contracted any physical or physiological ailment. His constitution was built even to survive a nuclear blast.
However, when Victor’s eyes opened in Springfield Global Hospital, he truly felt weak for the first time in his life.
The blinding white ceiling, the bleak, pale wallpaper, and the suffocating odor of disinfectant filled his senses.
Victor sat up in his bed and groaned as surges of pain ran through his torso. Every part of his sore body ached. His blood felt like it was on a simmer, and he ran a constant fever. These human sensations were alien to him.
Word spread and guests poured in as soon as he regained consciousness.
“Victor!” Claire, Haley, and Julia pounced on him like feral kittens, smothering him with hugs and questions.
“How do you feel?”
“Can you recognize us?”
“You look pale.”
“Can you walk?”
“I’m fine…” he replied with a bitter smile. Even though the atmosphere was depressing, the arrival of familiar faces lifted his spirits.
Maverick, Valeria, and Drew walked in shortly after. They looked exhausted themselves. In Victor’s absence, the responsibilities of managing the NWO fell on their shoulders.
The trio had to collaborate with the federal government to cover up the ruins of the battle for Springfield Beach. As usual, it was labeled as a terrorist insurrection. But the actual field work involved in the cover-up was backbreaking.
The three five-star generals bowed to Victor. “Hello, sir…” Maverick said. They didn’t ask him how he was because they had already spoken with the doctor.
Victor acknowledged their greetings with a nod. “Is the battle really over? Report the present situation.”
Maverick spoke up. “The Puppetmaster’s army was utterly annihilated thanks to you, sir. We lost many of our agents and battleships. Compensation has been sent to all affected families, and we are recruiting new agents as we speak.”
Victor nodded and turned to Drew Archibald. “Is the President going to take a public stand on the Puppetmaster? Declare him a national threat?”
Drew shook his head dejectedly. “Unfortunately not, sir. We can provide no actual proof of his existence. The President isn’t prepared to acknowledge him publicly without something concrete. Otherwise, it may affect his reelection chances.”
“We can’t even press charges against the conspirator group of billionaires who funded the Puppetmaster. They left no traces of their meetings, plans, or financial transactions. However, the President is willing to lend national resources to our aid whenever necessary.”
Victor sighed. In other words, back to the status quo. Politics trumps national interest.
The ward’s door opened, and the doctor walked in, flipping through a medical chart.
“Mr. Damone,” he said respectfully. “I am Dr. Kirby. I hope you are satisfied with our services. Since you are the Chairman of the board of directors, we have left no stone unturned in accommodating you. This is the best luxury single-occupancy ward in the hospital.”
Victor waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t plan to stay here long. Tell me what the reports say.”
Dr. Kirby paused and averted his eyes before replying. “I am afraid I have bad news for you.”
Claire, Haley, and Julia clung to Victor, not letting go of his hands. Bad news could mean only one thing.
“Go ahead, doc.”
“After a detailed histological examination, we have determined you have blood, brain, and lung cancer all at the same time. Moreover, your autoimmune condition is running haywire and constantly trying to collapse your organs. The situation is dire and out of medical science’s scope. Of course, we’ll conduct more tests to find more details with absolute certainty.“
“How is that possible?” Claire exclaimed. “So many ailments at the same time? Are you sure your machines are working right?”
Kirby nodded. “We repeated the tests just to be sure. Mr. Damone’s condition is a medical enigma, a mystery we have failed to solve. According to reports, his body was perfectly fine a few days back. Whatever happened to him—the cancer proliferation and the autoimmune hyperactivity, started very recently. We have been able to find neither the cause nor the agent.”
“What about a cure or a treatment?” Haley asked in a panic.
The doctor shook his head. “Our hospital has already consulted the world’s top oncologists and immunologists. There’s no such treatment. I am sorry to say this… But Mr. Damone should start saying farewell to his family.”
Claire, Haley, and Julia broke into tears. Valeria and Drew buried their heads in their chests while Maverick’s eyes were moist.
Victor shot Dr. Kirby an emotionless stare as the realization dawned on him. “Doctor… How long do I have?”