When Joel woke up, the harsh fluorescent lights overhead made it hard to focus. He let out a low grunt, trying to push himself upright. Turning his head, he noticed the thin IV line in his arm, the needle taped to his skin. He yanked it out without hesitation. No way this was real. A hospital—fully running, sterile, quiet—didn’t make sense. Not in this world. Not anymore.

He swung his legs off the bed, trying to stand, but his knees buckled. Damn it. Before he could try again, the door creaked open. A woman stepped inside and caught him just in time. He brushed her off.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, voice gravelly.

He sank back onto the edge of the bed, watching her carefully. She looked young, maybe early thirties, wearing a white coat like a doctor—but no name tag, no credentials. Nothing about this place felt right.

She walked over with a cup of water and a small white pill in her hand.

“Take this,” she said, voice calm.

Joel narrowed his eyes. The tension in his jaw tightened. He stared at her, unmoving.

“If you think I’m just gonna swallow something from a stranger, you’re more naive than you look,” he said, his tone sharp, distrusting.

He saw a flicker of surprise cross her face, maybe even a touch of offense. Joel sighed through his nose, easing the glare in his eyes just a little. Didn’t mean to bark. Not like that. But this place… this setup… it didn’t feel right. He’d survived too long to start getting soft now.