Chapter 1

The first thing I felt was the cold. It seeped through the thin hospital blanket and settled deep in my bones. The beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound in the sterile white room, a slow, steady countdown to my end.

A mechanical voice echoed in my head, cold and without emotion.

[Host: Ethan Miller. Life Value: 3%. Mission Failure imminent. System bond will be terminated upon host's death.]

I closed my eyes. Mission failure. In this life, I had tried to be the good guy. I had refused to play the part of the villain the System assigned to me. I loved my adoptive aunt, Eleanor Vance, with everything I had. I couldn't bear to hurt her, even if the System promised me health and freedom for doing so.

And this was my reward. Lying here, my body wasted by an illness the doctors couldn't explain, waiting to die alone. My refusal to sabotage her perfect romance with the sculptor Liam Stone had cost me everything.

The door to the hospital room opened with a soft click. The scent of expensive perfume, Eleanor' s signature scent, filled the air. It was a smell I once associated with home and comfort, but now it just made my stomach turn.

"Ethan, darling," Eleanor' s voice was smooth, a carefully practiced melody of concern. "Liam and I came to see you. How are you feeling?"

I forced my eyes open. She stood at the foot of my bed, looking perfect as always in a tailored dress. Her arm was linked with Liam's. He was a celebrated artist, the man the System had called her destiny. He looked down at me with a pained expression, a mix of pity and discomfort. He was a kind man, but he was also blind to the monster standing beside him.

"I' m fine," I rasped. My throat was dry, and every word was an effort.

"Don' t try to be brave," she said, her voice dropping. "The doctor told us. It' s... not looking good." She squeezed Liam' s arm, leaning into him for support. She was playing the part of the grieving aunt for him, a role she had perfected.

Liam put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Eleanor, maybe we shouldn' t tire him."

"No, it' s alright," she insisted, her gaze fixed on me. "I just wanted him to know... we' re thinking of him."

The words were a lie. I saw the impatience in her eyes, the flicker of distaste when she looked at my frail body. I was a loose end, a messy reminder of a past she wanted to erase. My devotion, which she had used for years to build her art gallery's reputation on the back of my architectural designs, was now an inconvenience.

I struggled with my own feelings. Even now, a part of me, a stupid, foolish part, wanted to believe her. I remembered all the years I spent trying to earn her love, designing buildings for her gallery, hoping one day she would see me as more than just her late sister' s kid. But that boy was gone, killed by the truth.

She had never loved me. She had only ever used me.

The System' s voice returned, a flat, emotionless command in my mind.

[Triggering final opportunity. Task: Verbally abuse Liam Stone. Accuse him of stealing Eleanor from you. Reward for completion: 1 hour of pain relief.]

My body was a canvas of constant, grinding pain. An hour of relief sounded like a lifetime. In my past, I would have refused. I would have held my tongue and protected her happiness. But now, staring at their united front, something inside me snapped. This was the life I had chosen, the path of the 'good guy,' and it led me to this bed. Reborn, I would not make the same mistake.

I took a shaky breath, gathering the last of my strength. I looked past Eleanor and stared directly at Liam.

"Get out," I said, my voice cracking but filled with a sudden, surprising venom.

Liam' s kind face registered shock. "Ethan?"

"I said, get out," I repeated, louder this time. I pushed myself up slightly, the effort making my head swim. "You think you' re so great, don' t you? The famous sculptor. You just waltzed in and took her. She was supposed to be mine."

Eleanor gasped, her hand flying to her chest in a dramatic gesture. "Ethan! How could you say such a thing? Liam has been nothing but good to us."

" 'Us' ?" I laughed, a horrible, tearing sound that turned into a harsh cough. I felt a wetness on my lips and knew it was blood. "There is no 'us.' There' s just you and him. And me... the obstacle you' re just waiting to see gone."

Liam looked genuinely hurt, his naivety making him the perfect audience for this tragedy. "I... I never meant to cause any trouble."

"Then leave," I spat. My new identity as the 'villain' felt strange, but it also felt powerful. It was a shield.

Eleanor pulled Liam back, her eyes flashing with a mixture of feigned hurt and real anger. "We' re going. I can' t believe you, Ethan. After everything I' ve done for you. To be so ungrateful, so... twisted."

They turned and left. The door clicked shut, leaving me in silence again. The promised relief from the System washed over me, a temporary numbness that only highlighted the deeper agony. I collapsed back against the pillows, my body trembling. I had done it. I had finally played the part. But it was too late.

My gaze drifted to the small television mounted on the wall. It was tuned to a local arts channel. A breaking news banner ran across the bottom of the screen. 'Vance Gallery Announces New Wing – A Collaboration of Love.'

The screen showed a live press conference. Eleanor was at the podium, radiant under the lights. Liam stood beside her, his hand on her back. He looked troubled, probably still thinking about my outburst.

"This new wing," Eleanor was saying, her voice a smooth balm for the cameras, "is a testament to love and art. It is a project Liam and I have poured our hearts into."

Then, she held something up. It was a small, intricately carved wooden bird, a design I had made for her years ago, a birthday gift. It was the first thing I ever designed. I had told her it was a phoenix, a symbol of rebirth and enduring hope.

"Some of you may know the story of this little trinket," she said, her smile tinged with a practiced sadness. "It was a gift from someone from my past. A symbol of a love that was... misguided. Today, I want to create a new symbol."

With a serene expression, she walked over to a fireplace set up on the stage. Without a moment' s hesitation, she tossed the wooden bird into the flames. It caught fire instantly, the delicate wings curling into black ash.

"Let this be a symbol of moving on," she declared to the applause of the crowd. "Of finding true, healthy love."

The monitor in my room flatlined.

[Life Value: 0%.]

[System bond terminated.]

The last thing I saw was Eleanor' s triumphant smile.

The last thing I felt was the fire.