Max's body collapsed.
A weightless sensation overtook him, his consciousness fading into darkness.
Then—light.
A hospital room.
A ceiling.
The soft sound of breathing.
Max blinked, his vision adjusting to the world before him. The sterile scent of disinfectant filled his lungs as he recognized where he was.
Then he saw her—his mother.
She was seated on the ground, her head resting near his hand, the exhaustion of endless days written across her face.
Max swallowed.
He tried to move.
Nothing.
His body refused.
Yet, with a desperate effort, his finger twitched, brushing against his mother's cheek.
Her eyes snapped open.
And when she saw him awake—she broke.
"Max… MAX!"
Tears poured down her face as she scrambled to her feet, her hands trembling as she reached for him.
Doctors rushed in at her call, checking his vitals, examining his unresponsive limbs.
"You were in a coma for 10 years, Max," one doctor said, disbelief lacing his words. "Your body… hasn't moved in a decade. It'll take months for you to recover."
Max's breath hitched.
"Ten… years?"
His mind struggled to process it.
Then—his skull erupted in pain.
Memories of Hell surged through him—a thousand years of blood, torture, war.
The visions overwhelmed his brain.
His body convulsed, thrashing wildly, like a fish pulled from water.
Doctors tried to restrain him—
But Max bit one of them, his teeth sinking into flesh.
"Restrain him!" someone shouted.
Ropes tightened around his body.
His mother sobbed, trying to calm him, but nothing worked.
The doctors injected him with sedatives,his movements slowing—his mind fading back into darkness.
---
A vast white void.
Max stood alone, confused.
"Where am I?"
Then—the system appeared.
"This is the imagined world of your consciousness."
Max frowned.
"Was everything in Hell… real?"
"Yes," the system confirmed. "Your soul lived in Hell. Your body remained in a coma here."
Max exhaled, steadying his thoughts.
"Then… I need my power back."
---
Back in reality, Max lay in his hospital bed, silent.
His mother sat beside him, her fingers combing through his hair gently.
"How long has it been, Mom?"
She sniffled.
"Ten years."
Max stared at the ceiling.
"I want to see outside."
His mother nodded, retrieving a wheelchair.
With careful movements, she guided him toward the window, rolling him out into the hospital courtyard.
Max breathed in—fresh air filling his lungs for the first time in a decade.
Then—he saw it.
A massive portal.
It loomed over the sky, stretching across the world like a suffocating shadow.
Before he could process it—voices interrupted.
"Your debt, woman."
Several men approached, eyes cold.
Max's mother tensed.
"Please, my son just woke up. Give me time—"
They didn't listen.
They hit her.
Max's pulse thundered.
"Stop!"
His body collapsed to the ground, his fingers clutching their legs desperately.
He bit one of them, his teeth sinking deep.
But they kicked him, their blows raining down on his frail body.
The doctors rushed in, forcing them to retreat.
His mother wiped the blood from his mouth, her hands trembling as she pulled him back onto the bed.
She smiled weakly.
"Rest, Max. I'll be back after work."
She left.
And Max broke.
"I couldn't… protect her."
Tears streamed down his face.
"I'm weak. I'm nothing."
Then—his rage surfaced.
"I'll kill them."
His system activated.
"To regain your full power, choose your level of challenge."
Easy.
Medium.
Hard.
Max grinned.
"Hard."
The opponent appeared.
The new King of Hell.
Max himself.
---
Max wasn't surprised.
"You're stronger than me," he muttered.
The King of Hell Max smirked.
"But I have two arms now," Max growled, flexing his restored limbs. "And in this world, I can move freely."
The battle began.
Their swords clashed, splitting the sky.
Hellfire exploded, shadows twisting as each strike shook the battlefield.
Every movement mirrored each other—both wielding bloodlust and absolute precision.
They were equals.
They were one.
Then—both lunged forward, their blades aiming for the kill.
Steel met flesh.
They stabbed each other, blood spilling from their wounds.
Yet—Max smiled.
His inventory portal opened, sucking in his opponent's sword, preventing the blow from piercing deep.
But Max's sword—remained.
It stabbed through the King of Hell Max—ending the battle.
And with that—
Max reclaimed his power.
---
Back in the real world—Max's eyes snapped open.
His body felt different.
Stronger.
His fists clenched.
"Now… I'll take back everything."