Novel & Cerita Terminal Illness Countdown

“W-what are you talking about?” “There is a phenomenon we experience with terminal patients where they get a burst of energy before they…pass on-“ I snorted disbelievingly, then frowned “are you saying my mum is going to die.” “I’m not saying she will definitely. It’s a thing we have to inform families about, incase this is your last moments with her.” I had told Lily about it and all we could do was watch her from outside, while fighting our own internal battles. Lily left the hospital earlier. I was only convinced to leave by Hannah when she promised to call if anything changed.

"My bones are conducting the winter early this year, I think. But I wanted to be here. I needed to see one more happy thing manifest before my time runs thin." She let the sentence trail off into the ambient noise of the terminal, leaving the finality of her words hanging in the space between us. She didn’t need to finish it. I knew exactly what she meant—the shadow of her illness was moving through her system with a quiet, predictable rhythm, and we were all acutely aware that the clock was ticking down toward the inevitable end. But today wasn't for grieving; today was for the future.

Unknown time until everything changes. The countdown has begun.

I placed the papers on the table, neat and tidy. I was going to leave a message for her, but I did not go through with it. Instead, I said it in my mind, 'Hey honey, this is the last time I'm calling you that, I guess. I spent ten years in love with you. It's really hard doing that, I know, but I'm giving up anyway. Congratulations, to both you and me.' I grabbed my suitcase. The moment the countdown was over, I put my hand on the doorknob.

I wrote about how I had given up a billion-dollar cash reward, and how I had drained every last luck point from my own system account to exchange for the chance for her to stand again after the car accident that had paralyzed both her legs. After finishing the letter, I packed all our old photos into a cardboard box and erased the last traces of my life in this house. [Death countdown: 10, 9, 8...] The countdown entered its final ten seconds. I fell onto the carpet beside the sofa. It felt as though my organs were being shredded by countless blades. My face remained cold as I endured the agony. I vomited mouthful after mouthful of black blood, instantly staining the pure white carpet Victori

However, seeing that I still would not ask for mercy, he would leave with an icy expression. I got thinner and thinner. The system said I was going to die from advanced stomach cancer. Given the hunger, I could not even sit up. However, my eyes were still bright, a sign that the end was near. On the 15th day, Ethan could not take it anymore. He came with a bowl of warm soup and sat on the bed, trying to feed me. "Eat this! "Nina, you've won, okay? Just eat, and I'll let you go. Can't we start over, please?"

"Which should be any minute now..." "Mom, don't say that—" "Maya." Her eyes locked onto mine one last time. "Promise me you won't let his money mean more than your father's life. Promise me." "I promise." She relaxed back into the pillows, satisfied. Within minutes, she was asleep again, her breathing shallow and labored. The nurse pulled me aside. "I need to be honest with you. These bursts of energy—we call them 'terminal rallies.' They often happen in the final days.

I smiled to reassure him, “I'm working on the plans to build it alongside my engineers.” He looked nervous and hesitant. I sensed there was something he wanted to tell me, but was not sure he could trust me with. “If something is bothering you…” “I have terminal cancer,” he revealed. I blinked several times. Was he expecting that Angel 654 would give him a cure? “I… I am sorry to hear that, Earl.” “The doctors have said there is nothing to be done for me… apparently, it has spread everywhere.” “I am very sorry to hear that.” “It's alright,” he said with a tight smile, “I have accepted the diagnosis, but now I am anxious to see Angel 654 before I take my final breath.”

“Doctor, please where is my mom? How is she doing? I got your phone call? is everything alright? Where is she now?” All of those questions came sporadically and the doctor had to hold Salsa firmly on the shoulders to calm her down. She managed to join the doctor in his office after the doctor pleaded with her, “Her cancer has deteriorated to its terminal stage, Salsa,” the doctor intoned , his grinned face shooting at Salsa from across the table. “We are gradually losing her and if nothing is done in 72 hours , I am afraid we may lose her.” Salsa was left gaping and staring at the doctor’s gloomy face, although a harsh voice broke into her heart and reminded her it was a lost cause, yet she

SIXTY SECONDS TO ASH The dig‍ital countdown t‌imer⁠ a‍ppeared instantly on every terminal‌ screen inside the v‍ault,‍ it⁠s numbe‌rs ti‌cking​ down pi‌tiless​ly i‍n a sta​rk‍,​ bright wh​i​t‌e: *00:59... 00:58...*