Adams remembered the World Boss’s claw pierced him through the chest. Adams felt his ribs snapping, felt himself lifting from the ground, twirling in the air like a useless ragdoll. He felt his head hitting the pavement
Then came the nothingness.
Not the nothingness of sleep, but something more engulfing, something that rendered him senses useless. Then came the realization that he couldn’t feel his body, that he couldn’t hear his own heartbeat.
Then the world started to reconstruct around him.
A car. He was in the backseat. The familiar scent of his mother’s perfume filled his nose, the laughter of his sister was ringing in his ears.
"Adams, stop touching me."
"I’m not touching you."
"You’re breathing on me."
"Breathing isn’t touching."
"It’s annoying."
Adams smiled. His younger sister Chidinma, age nine, always found something to complain about. She shoved him away with her elbow, and he shoved her back. Nkechi, the thirteen-year-old and an eternal grumper, rolled her eyes.
"Both of you, shut up."
"Make me."
"Adams, I swear-"
"Enough."
Their mother’s voice rang in his ears as she turned around from the front passenger seat, her face half-lit by the setting sun. "We are almost there, can’t you two give us five minutes of peace?"
"Nkechi started it."
"I did not-"
"She did."
"The both of you are insufferable."
Their father laughed heartily as he glanced at Adams in the rearview mirror. "Your mother and I successfully raised three kids. This is our reward."
"Your reward is having to hear them fight," Adams’s mother said dryly.
"Better than silence. Silence means something is wrong."
Adams turned his gaze out the window, watching the city pass by. Lagos was always full of chaos, filled with streets that twisted and coiled around each other, buildings that cramped together with little space in between. The sky was orange from the sunset.
It had been a nice day. A day spent visiting their grandmother in Surulere, a day full of too much food and too much laughter. Chidinma had gotten her dress stained with juice and their mother had jokingly threatened to leave her there. Nkechi had spent most of the ride on her phone, only for their father to take it away.
Adams had chased his cousin around the compound until his legs gave out.
A normal day. A good day.
He leaned back, resting his head against the window, as his sister’s elbow bumped his ribs again. He let out a sigh, not bothering to shove her this time
"Adams," Chidinma complained. "Stop-"
"Chidinma, I’m not doing anything."
"Yes, you are."
"I’m literally looking out the window."
"Your presence is annoying."
"Girls," their father said, chuckling as he turned the wheel. "We are almost home, just hold on."
Their mother groaned dramatically. "I’m going to need a drink."
"I’ll get you two," their father said.
Adams smiled at the scene, a familiar, peaceful sight. Just his family, nothing more, nothing less. Just the five of them bickering nonsense as they drove back home
Then, suddenly, his father’s laughter died.
"Hold on!"
The headlights of an oncoming vehicle loomed before them. A truck or a van, Adams could not tell which, veered sharply onto the median. It was moving far too fast, and Adams could see the look of horror on the driver’s face as they realized their mistake.
His father jerked the wheel, veering to the right. The tires screamed in protest. Adams was flung against the side of the car, his head ringing as it hit the window. Chidinma’s wails filled his ears as Nkechi grabbed onto his arm. His mother was shouting, screaming something that he could not hear
Then came impact.
The glass of the car imploded inward as metal shrieked against metal. The vehicle spun out of control, and Adams felt himself flying through the air, his body landing against the roof before sliding down the window. He could feel something on his leg, the fabric ripping as he landed hard on the pavement.
Pain. Brief, but blinding.
Then came the darkness again.
Adams woke up briefly in the car wreckage, the voices around him speaking but their words were indistinct. He struggled to open his eyes, to speak, to do anything, but his body refused his commands. Then came the darkness once more
When Adams woke up, he was lying on a hospital bed, surrounded by doctors. They were arguing about the other patients, those that had survived the wreck. He tried to get their attention, to tell them that he was okay, but his voice would not obey him. He blacked out once more
At the hospital, the doctors gave up on treating the other patients, for none of them survived. Adams’s parents, his sisters, they were all pronounced dead. His injuries were extensive, and he was declared dead as well. He was simply more fortunate than the others.
A sheet was placed over him as he was prepared to be taken to the morgue with the rest of the dead
The linoleum floor was cold against his back as he was wheeled down the hallway. A gurney rolled past him, the body of a dead person covered in a sheet. The attendant pushing it was tired, he had already taken three bodies to the morgue that day. He turned the corner and paused
There was movement.
He looked at the gurney in front of him. There was no one on it. Probably just his imagination. He pushed the gurney forward
There was movement
He looked at the gurney again. He stopped, staring at the figure on it. Slowly, he pulled the sheet back
The boy’s eyes were open.
The attendant staggered back in shock. "Nurse! NURSE!"
A nurse ran up to him. She checked the boy’s pulse, then looked up at his eyes. Something was wrong. Something was off.
Then came the beep. The nurse looked up at the heart monitor. There was nothing. Then came the beep again. One heartbeat. Then another. His heart was beating again.
"Get him back to surgery! NOW!"
When Adams woke up the second time, he was in a hospital room. The white walls, the white sheets, the beeping machines, the pain in his head. He tried to speak, but his throat was sore. "Where’s my mother?"
No one answered. "Where’s my father?"
The nurse looked away. "Where are my sisters?"
She did not meet his eyes. "I’m sorry," she said
"Multiple casualties. We need extraction."You were... you were in an accident. A bad one."
"But I’m okay."
"You’re..." She trailed off, unable to find the words. "You’re alive."
"What about my family?"
She shook her head.
Adams stared at her, the realization of it all finally hitting him. He did not cry. He simply stared at her, a hollow expression on his face. Then he asked the question that had been plaguing him since he woke up. "Why am I alive?"
The nurse did not have an answer.
The first birthday without them was the worst. His grandmother made a cake, and everyone came to the house, smiling, trying to make it a happy day. Adams sat at the table, staring at the candles
He did not blow them out. Someone else did
The second year was better. He was able to fake his smiles, able to put on a front for those around him. He could say "I’m okay" when asked how he was doing, and he could hide the grief behind a mask. He learned to move on, to move forward, to keep living even though it killed him inside. He learned to live with the loss, though it never stopped hurting.
He moved from relative to relative, staying with different people every few months. No one was mean or cruel, but no one was his family either. No one could take his place.
School was horrible. Other kids had parents. They had siblings. They had someone to go home to at the end of the day. Adams had home, but he did not have family. He learned to pack his lunch, to do his homework, to wake himself up every morning. He learned to be alone
He met Riven at the end of secondary school. Riven was loud and obnoxious and always getting into trouble. Adams was quiet and kept to himself, but that changed the day Riven sat next to him in the cafeteria and said
"You look like you haven’t smiled in a year. That’s got to be exhausting."
Adams stared at him
Riven grinned. "I’m Riven. I’m going to be your friend. Try not to resist."
And somehow, in that moment, he didn’t
Later, he met Elena. She was sharp-tongued and witty, and she saw through his defenses to the hurting boy underneath. She did not pry or prod or demand answers. She simply was there, steadying his shaking hands, telling him that life was worth living even when it wasn’t. She made him realize that, that his life was worth living, just not in the way he thought it was
Sometimes Adams wondered if it had been fate that had kept him alive that day. He did not think that he was worthy of life, or that he was special in any way. All he knew was that he was grateful to be alive, to breathe, to feel. He remembered the doctors telling him that he had been dead. He remembered waking up in that hospital, surrounded by people who did not know what had happened
Sometimes he wondered if his family should have been the ones to survive instead of him. If the accident had taken his life, and left his parents and siblings alive. His father, who had fought to keep them from harm. His mother, who had called out to him when he was dying. His sisters, who had so much potential that had been cut short.
But he never found an answer
After a while, he stopped looking for one
But the question always stayed with him
Adams opened his eyes. He was in the shelter, the concrete ceiling looming over him. The scent of blood and dust filled his nostrils as he turned his head. Elena was sleeping soundly beside him, her hand still clutching his. Riven was sitting against the wall, his weapon laying beside him
He looked at his hands
For a moment, he saw that hospital room, the white ceiling, the sheet over him. He saw his body laying on the pavement, blood pooling out from the wound in his chest. He saw the doctors, the nurses, the attendants.
He looked up at the System window.
[Soul: ERROR]
Adams stared at the words for a long time. Then he smiled, for the first time in a long while. Somewhere in the deepest part of his being, he remembered something that he had not remembered in years.
That
he had died
And somehow,
he had come back