"Round Three, steal something of value and die richer than you are now."

Well damn, that's depressing. I didn't know what I was expecting from this mysterious voice, but half of me was hoping that it could somehow save me. Why else would I willingly kill two people without hesitation?

The pain was enormous now, like someone was digging claws into my chest to rip out my heart. Looks of fear surrounded me as I gulped down lungfuls of air. When my hand went forward everyone flinched as my fingers clasped around a necklace of the nurse near me.

"Mine.." The room turned silent as my body froze, a reverse of the previous situations earlier as the last light of my life flickered out. I had died, fully and truly as my body slumped forward no longer in my control. A hint of a smile was on my face as the pain went away.

Blackness was all that was there now, swallowing and consuming what I could only assume was my soul.


News spread out about the boy named Josh, his violent spasm into death. They couldn't figure out the reason why he lashed out in his final moments but they investigated since they all knew that the public wouldn't rest until they found out the truth.

The woman that used the paddles on the child had no connection to him as far as anyone could tell, though she was having an affair with the man killed. The man they had found out actually had quite a few connections to a company that rivaled the child's family business. With many texts left inside the dead man's phone they had put together a story that made sense. At least enough that it would pacify the public.

Joshua Vector, son of the industrious Vladimir Vector who founded Vector Electronics, an rising star in the video game community focusing mostly one real time strategy games. Was targeted by a rival company while his father was creating a new game. The loss of his son was supposed to force the development of the game to miss the scheduled release date of right before Christmas. This would allow their game to come out first which could gain them billions during holiday sales.

Contrary to their expectations though, his father pushed through with the game dedicating the game to the child that he had lost. With such a story behind the game, and with all the publicity of his son's death the sales exceeded any predicted figures by a thousand times.

Quite a few people were angered that the company used the publicity to push their company forward but this was the modern world. Where even death can be used to push a product.


A groan was heard in a dark room, three heavily robed men stood in a circle chanting in a weird language as white light filled the room. There was a pain in my body that was slowly receding like the waves of the ocean as the white light flooded into it. The tingling of healthy sensation was slowly coming back to me as I sucked in lungfuls of air as if I had been suffocating for hours. The sensation hurt, my lungs feeling as if they had been in disuse for some time.

The bright light illuminated the room, stone and mortar filled my vision, much unlike the painted walls of modern day society. They were lavishly decorated with pelts of various animals, and paintings of strange creatures, most of them in combat with knights in a dark green armor.

Smells of spices, and herbs filled my nose, it also smelled faintly of medication a smell I was very familiar with. It seemed like these people were trying to heal me with their strange lights and herbs but I couldn't find out why.

The emblems on their chest signified some sort of organization, it was vaguely in the shape of a pyramid. 'Did the Illuminati come to save me?' My muddled mind thought, but that was soon pushed to the side as I saw my own body.

It was tough, muscular with only a thin layer of fat across it and slightly yellowish tint to my skin. My fingers and palm were callused, the hardest part being down the center of the hand like I had been holding a stick for hours. These were not the hands of an amateur engineer that needed nimble fingers.

Gripping my hands tightly, I could feel explosive power where there was none before a slight frown going to my lips. 'This is not my body.' It sounded impossible even to me who was experiencing it first hand, but there was no other conclusion.

Looking around bewildered, I focused on my only source of information. The strange robes men that held their hands high in the air, wisps of light coming from their fingertips. It was strange, magical even, but that thought was quickly pushed away as it didn't matter at the moment.

My lips parched, my throat in pain I still managed to spit out horsley, "Who am I?" I looked to one of the hooded figures asking him, and he stepped back shocked at my question. The light above me dimming immediately before collapsing, the soft feeling of healing pushed away by pain. This pain was manageable though compared to what he experienced before.

As if to answer that question, information flooded my mind locking down any other sense making my body slump over and pass out. My mind like a computer seriously needing a reboot as it got an update.


"Improbable.." the head doctor muttered under his breath as he looked over the report of the four wizards under his command. The general's son was awake, he should have long died but something was sustaining him for this past year that none of them could figure out.

They had merely come to the fortress to use the general's son as a stepping stone for him to gather more influence, and trust of a powerful man. Now that he had it though, he wondered how the child of the general even lived.

His heart was crushed beyond repair, that wasn't even mentioning the child's brain which had been hemorrhaging before they had got there. The use of his wizards was supposed to be a show of appeasing the family, lessen their suffering, it wasn't supposed to actually work.

There was something fishy going on here, and he didn't want to play into another's schemes. He was the one supposed to come out ahead, not another party. Now they were in even a worse state than the beginning, if they didn't cure the brat completely they'd be only giving hope to the family then taking it away. The reports even showed fluctuation in the soul, which his men did not have the power to heal if there was any damage to it.

A long sigh came out of his lips as he rubbed his forehead, things would be a lot less complicated if the boy had just died. It was too late now, the ball was already rolling, at this point all he could do is utilize the best resources that he had at his disposal. Speaking in tongues was also a good sign for the soul, possession was very rare but not unheard of. So he quickly choose to strike that from the medical records.

As the ink was drying for the final report he was writing all he could mutter was, "I hope to the goddess that there are no complications because of my ambition." A rough pull at the collar of his shirt was followed as he felt it was too tight around his neck.


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