Chapter 1: Death Is Just the Beginning
Lucas Carter hated Mondays, not because of some tired meme or punchline, but because Mondays reminded him how trapped he truly was—chained to a desk in a concrete jungle, surrounded by buzzing fluorescent lights and fake smiles.
He sat in his cubicle, eyes glazed over the latest report for marketing analytics. The numbers blurred. His back ached. His coffee had gone cold, untouched. Again.
"Lucas," barked his manager from across the office,
"I need that report in the next ten minutes. And clean it up this time—your last projections were off."
Lucas didn't answer. He just nodded and kept typing. His fingers moved on autopilot, copying, pasting, calculating. There was no joy in the work—there hadn't been for years.
His phone vibrated—a message from his mother.
"Don't forget to eat today, honey. Love you."
He smiled faintly, then returned to the screen.
That's when it happened.
A blinding pain slammed into his chest like a sledgehammer. He gasped, clutching at his shirt as the world tilted sideways. Papers flew as he collapsed, knocking over his monitor. Shouts rang out. Someone screamed. Someone else called 911.
But for Lucas, it was all distant noise, like echoes in a tunnel. His vision dimmed. Darkness closed in.