Steve opened his eyes suddenly, his heart pounding as he took in his surroundings. The sterile white walls, the heart rate monitor, the IV drip connected to his arm.
He was back in the hospital.
He gasped for air. His hands gripped the blankets beneath him, the heart rate monitor beeping rapidly.
A nurse rushed into the room, her eyes widening at the sight of Steve awake and agitated.
"Sir, please, calm down."
Steve stared at her, his eyes wide with fear and confusion.
"No, it was a dream. I was home."
"I'm sorry, but.. it wasn't a dream. You were hit by a truck while waiting for the bus. You've been in a coma for 6 months."
His heart pounded, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as panic threatened to choke him. The heart rate monitor beeped even louder.
"I can't breathe!! "
Steve gasped, clutching his chest.
"Something's wrong..! I shouldn't be here..!"
She reached for the call button and pressed it.
Steve was thrashing wildly.
The nurse's eyes widened with concern as he began to convulse, his body trembling beneath the covers. She bent over him, her hands gripping his shoulders, trying to steady him.
"Steven, please.. "
His panic reached its peak, his mind spiraling out of control.
"I need help here!" the nurse cried.
The door burst open, and a team of doctors and nurses rushed into the room. They surrounded Steve's bed, their faces etched with concern and determination.
"Sir, you need to stay calm,"
one of the doctors commanded firmly, placing a hand on his chest.
Steve's movements slowed. The doctors and nurses around him worked with agonizing slowness.
Steve's vision began to blur, the edges growing dark as consciousness faded.
Before it all went black, he heard a distant, muffled voice calling his name.
Steve's eyes fluttered open, his gaze unfocused as he stared at the ceiling above him.
A gentle hand on his arm startled him, and he turned to see a nurse smiling at him.
"Welcome back."
"What happened?"
The nurse patted his hand reassuringly.
"You had a panic attack. But You're fine now."
Steve pushed himself up onto his elbows, his muscles trembling with the exertion. The nurse placed a hand gently on his chest, urging him to lie back down.
"Stop. Take it easy. You've been through a lot, and you're still recovering from your injuries. You're not ready to get up yet. Your body needs more time to heal. I'll ask the doctor to come and check on you later."
He lay back on the pillows, exhausted from the brief exertion. He closed his eyes.
"Okay, I'll stay... for now."
The nurse wrapped the blankets tightly around him before leaving the room, her footsteps fading into the corridor.
Morning light filtered through the hospital window as he regained consciousness. He became aware of a strange sensation.
Slowly, Steve sat up, expecting the usual aches and pains. But there was nothing—no stiffness in his joints, no pain in his bones. He stood, and his movements were fluid and easy.
He was healed. Completely healed. There was no trace of the injuries that had kept him confined to the hospital for months.
He paced around the room, amazed by the absence of pain and the ease with which he could move.
His heart pounded with a mixture of joy and disbelief. He grabbed his clothes from the closet quickly, barely able to contain his excitement. He had to get out.
He rushed outside, after months in hospital rooms.
The world seemed more vibrant than he remembered. The colors were brighter, the sounds louder.
As he walked along the sidewalk, Steve noticed something strange.
Steve's gaze drifted to the buildings lining the street. The styles and designs were all different. The tallest building he remembered was a five-story apartment building, but here, towering skyscrapers swung toward the sky, their glass facades gleaming.
The streets themselves were strangely wider and smoother than he'd remembered, lined with sleek cars.
He knew something was wrong. This wasn't the city he knew anymore; it had changed beyond recognition during his absence. He felt like a stranger.
Steve's gaze was drawn to a huge screen mounted on the side of one of the skyscrapers. The newsreel displayed caught his eye, and he moved closer, his eyes widening as he read the headlines.
One headline read:
"New World Order, The Great Reset"
Accompanying a picture of a stern-faced man in a sharp suit.
"Humanity United Under One Flag.... "
The date mentioned in the bulletin was far beyond his comprehension.
"2070"
He stumbled back, his mind struggling to grasp the magnitude of what this meant. 2070..
50 years in the future.
He ran through the unfamiliar streets, his heart pounding in his chest as he dodged cars and the stares of the people around him.
The houses he passed were sleek, modern structures, nothing like the humble dwellings he remembered. But when he turned back onto his street, a glimmer of hope flickered in his heart.
There, amidst the strange architecture, was a house that looked eerily like his own. The same design, the same colors. Steve approached it cautiously.
His hand trembled as he reached for the doorknob, his heart pounding. He turned it slowly, expecting it to be locked or, worse, that someone else was living there. But the door opened easily.
The house was exactly as he remembered it: the same worn sofa, the same faded carpet, even the same pictures on the walls.
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him and leaning against it.