Chapter 1 - Tragedy

Although the calendar has long since stepped into the last month of the year 2006, the weather sure could have fooled those not aware of it. Despite just passing into the second half of December, the heavy pouring that tapped the oversized glasses of the City Central Hospital had recalled the passing autumn instead.

On the 16th of December, in the year 2006. From a first glance, the day was like any other. An inconspicuous, boring morning that's value was that the weather was warmer than usual and that instead of the thick blanket of white snow that should have been present, the heavy cold winds and the steady droplets of rain made their unwelcome presence known.

A nervous and shaken middle-aged-looking man walked back and forth in front of the emergency room in the city's best hospital. The door was tightly closed, with the scarlet neon sign signaling that an operation was taking place providing an ominous glow to the bright pale green and white ward.

"Sir, please take a seat! The madam and the young master wouldn't want to see you in such a state!" A slender, youthful woman dressed in a tight-fitting business suit walked up behind the old man and gently placed her graceful hand at the man's back. Her long ebony, matte black hair combed neatly and pulled into a bun at the back of her head gave the rather precise and rather fitting, matching impression of an assistant.

She gently, tenderly caressed the middle-aged man's back, slowly, but steadily reaching higher, ultimately taking her rest over his broad, thick shoulders.

"They… They are…" The man, however, was still visibly shaken, his figure was trembling with the tumultuous emotions he was battling with internally. He was too agitated, way too nervous to even formulate a conscious response, much less react to the attention he was receiving.

All he could muster was broken stutters and fumbled words. His worried gaze was focused on the tightly shut double doors standing between him and his loved ones. His fists were pale white, due to the sheer force of his clenched trembling fists.

Though he wanted nothing more than to rush ahead and tear through the door to get to the two figures lying unconsciously atop their respective beds, he could still retain enough rationale, enough clarity in his mind to not set himself loose like a wild animal.

He wanted to, desperately wished to kick those doors, flung them open, and rush in, just so he would be by his son's side. Yet, the old man knew… of course, he knew that he couldn't do something like that.

He knew well enough that behind these doors that barred him entry, a literal swarm of doctors and nurses were fighting not one, but two life and death battles currently. Working with their absolute best to make sure that the young man and his mother would not succumb to the horrific wounds they both suffered in the brutal accident.

Earlier that day, a large truck swayed off the road, its driver seemingly losing control of the wheels and crashed directly into the pedestrians standing peacefully, waiting for the lamp to turn green so they could cross the street.

Even later on, it was unsure of what happened, as the driver was nowhere to be found, only piles of his dried-up blood could be found painting a grotesque yet mysterious picture in the empty driver's seat.

Though witness reports claim that two dark heavily armored BMWs have stopped by shortly after the accident and pulled out a strange, growling, but surprisingly, an alive man from the car, and left shortly after, there were no cameras or even satellite images to support this claim.

For some inexplicable reason, nothing was working at or around the vicinity of the accident…

With all the remaining clarity he had left in his mind, he forced himself to fight against himself, and calm the inner beast from unleashing its wrath.

Eventually, after a hard-fought inner battle, -which except for the heavy shuddering of his body, went completely unnoticed-, the old man managed to dish out a victory, and slowly but surely cooled himself.

In the end, only a heavy somber-sounding sigh was leftover, the remnants of the hard-fought clash of the two sides that resided inside the elder-looking middle-aged man.

He stood in front of the closed double doors, looking through the reinforced glass of the doors, following the other, more important battle that was still going on. He didn't move, didn't flinch even as the attractive woman, his secretary did her absolute best to soothe his anxiety.

----------------

Just like that, time slowly, mercilessly passed. The late, stormy night eventually began to brighten, as the dawn carved a path through the veil of despair.

Suddenly, the light above the door blinked once, before, in the next moment, it lost all its luster, returning to its dark, gray colorless stature.

After almost 6 hours of relentless 'onslaught', the battle was finally over.

Instantly, the old man jumped up from the uncomfortable plastic seat and rushed back to his earlier vigil, in front of the door. Taking up his position he held steadfast almost all throughout the night. The hopeful glints betrayed his stoic posture, he was desperately wishing for some positive news.

As he noticed the dozen-full group of men and women still garbed in their operating dark green attire approach them with a heavy, stern, and somber gazes, the small curvature that began to seep and raise the edges of his lips instantly dropped, his expression soured.

He felt a sharp pain deep in his heart, the old man felt as if even without hearing a single word from the approaching party, he had lost at least a decade of his life.

He sighed, letting his growing, deep sorrow show on his face. He took a step back, giving way to the attaché of doctors and nurses to step outside.

"Lord Raven…" The oldest-looking doctor of the group spoke timidly after heaving a heavy sigh. He only dared to cast his gaze only for the briefest of moments on the man standing before him, then he hurriedly lowered his sight and instead looked at the ground.

He dared not to sound arrogant, or his usual confident, haughty self in front of this terrifying person, this fearsome and incredibly powerful figure.

With a humble and meek tone, he almost whispered his next words. The slight stutter showed how scared and frightened he was to face this figure's wrath and ire.

"W-we… we d-did our best, I can guarantee that… b-b-but-"

"But? But what? What is with my son? What about my wife? Are they going to be better? When will they wake up? When can I see them?!" Before the head operating doctor had a chance to finish, the old man, Lord Raven interjected with a roaring exclamation. His tone carried all the anxiety, all the frustration, and the helplessness he had suffered throughout this sleepless night.

"L-lord R-raven…" The doctor shivered under the emotional war cry of the worried father. He wanted to call out but found that he was unable to formulate any words. His voice seemed to be stuck inside the large lump inside his throat. He could only loudly gulp and bow and cower before him.

"What?! What is it?!" The middle-aged man, the worried father, Lord Raven cried out with a nervous, agitated expression. Grabbing the cowering doctor's shoulders he shook the meek figure.

Hearing no response, scared and wincing from the head doctor figure, Lord Raven quickly grew annoyed and tossed the doctor to the side. The rest of the cast, the operating team hurriedly scurried apart, not daring to utter a single word of complaint, but giving way for Lord Raven to step through.

None of the doctors and nurses dared to utter a single word of complaint or try to block the man's way. Though normally they shouldn't allow anyone to step inside and contaminate the sterile environment, they would never dare to speak up against the patriarch of one of the strongest, most powerful families in the city…

As he looked at the silent, unmoving figure of his son, Lord Raven clenched his fists tightly. Battling with his own emotions once again, the despairing father could do nothing but reach and hold firmly onto the hand of his poor son…

-----------

"-ney…"

Faint whispers, distant, barely audible. An old, elderly figure was dozing off beside a hospital bed, sitting in a chair.

The room looked rather plain, resembling more of a wooden shack than what one would expect from a modern hospital ward. It was dimly lit and obscured in dim, husky darkness. The only source of lighting was a small bedside lamp that looked worn down and occasionally flickered.

Also, apart from the comfy-looking spacious bed that took the center of the humble-looking room and a constantly beeping device that supported the sleeping resident, only a measly oakwood cupboard and a single armchair were the only pieces of furniture.

The faint rays of the morning light cast a bright diagonal pillar.

"…Honey! Wake up!" Suddenly, the mellow, warm voice of a woman rang beside the sleeping Master. Her slender hand lightly embraced the elderly man's right shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. The mature-looking woman shook it gently, waking up the old man from his usual assault of nightmares.

"Eh, meh… W-what is it?!" Shaken from the abrupt, -albeit warm and hearty-, wake up, the old man stumbled and shook in his chair. His bloody, still tired-looking fatigued eyes swayed from left, all the way to the right as he tried to make sense of what was going on.

Eventually, as he spotted the familiar shape resting soundly under the comfy-looking pillows and blankets atop the bed, the old man heaved a heavy sigh. As if he had already forgotten the extra presence in the room, he reached out and grabbed the young teenager's hand, burying it inside both of his wrinkled, aged palms.

"Honey! Come with me, and have your breakfast! You know you can't skip it, the doctors have already warned us!" The gentle voice of the woman standing beside the elderly man spoke again. Her tone filled with concern and worry, she gently rubbed the man's shoulder.

Yet, the old man seemed to ignore the woman, or her seemingly kind, warm attempts at taking away his focus from the young sleeping boy in the room.

He only gave a snorted grunt after several attempts at garnering his attention, deciding to resume ignoring her presence entirely, and instead keep his sad, sorrowful gaze on the young man resting for over 12 long, arduous years for now.

Ever since the accident, the old man seemingly lost everything.

His wife, Martha, and his son, Kai were supposedly coming back from school. Wanting to enjoy the cold air for a change, Martha decided against bringing a chauffeur, the two were by themselves. They wanted to escape the droning, the constant drizzle of the world, even just for a few fleeting minutes as they walked home together as mother and son and not be in the presence of rough-looking hulks every time.

Lord Raven clenched his fists with helpless anger as he recalled the events of the past. Still, after these twelve years, he still couldn't forgive himself. He could still see the loving, gentle smile of his love, the mother of his child waving at her together with the young Kai as they set off together in the morning only to never return.

He just smiled from the doorway, before turning around and walking back to his mansion. He couldn't go with them, he still had some business that required his presence. The plans his executives have proposed needed his urgent attention. He couldn't just leave them behind.

If only he knew…

The plan was that after the meeting with the city mayor and the board of directors he would do his best to go over the plans together with his assistant before setting out and joining Martha and Kai in the next morning and enjoy a joyous weekend somewhere in the countryside…

"*Sigh*" The old man heaved yet another sigh, squeezing his comatose son's hand lightly. A sad, anguished expression donned his scruffy, unkempt face.

"Honey… Come, take your breakfast with us. Robert, your son is already waiting for us…" The woman reached out and softly whispered again. Her tone was gentle, and from the outside, it seemed to be full of genuine love and care.

Yet, if one would have taken a closer look, scrutinizing her from top to bottom, he or she would have stumbled upon the small, miniature -but, at the same time: tell-tale-, signs.

For one, whilst her tone was warm and gentle… loving even, the mysterious glints in her dark matte, bead-like eyes revealed signs of an entirely different persona hiding underneath. The light, mute scoff, the frown as she glanced over the crippled, comatose kid, the old man's son over the bed had revealed a dark and twisted soul. There was no sign of the tender affection, the care, the love she had shown to the old man at all.

No, the woman's actions and tone of speech did not match up at all. Under the thin veil of a loving wife, there seemed to be something sinister, twisted hiding.

"My son is here on this bed." The old man muttered under his breath, stubbornly refusing to leave the side of the bed.

The woman sighed at this sight and reached to comb her long ebony, matte black hair. An eerie-looking glint flashed across her eyes before she hid it quickly and donned her usual, warm smile. She reached for the back of the old man. Gently, warmly rubbing it, she stepped closer, and crouched down, taking her place beside her husband.

"Honey… Kai… He is still resting. No one knows if he will ever wake-"

"There is no if! He WILL come back to me! He will come back to his family!" Not letting the woman finish what she wanted to say, Lord Raven coldly spoke up."

Seeing her husband, definite, resolute tone, and the same stance he had for over the years, the mature-looking woman did not show any visible reaction. She merely retained her warm smile, and with crescent eyes, she nodded at her 'beloved' husband's words.

"Yes, just as you say, honey. There is no if. Young Kai will wake up someday. Still, you need to survive and retain your health till that happens. So, please, come with me and join your family and Robert, your second son, to enjoy your morning meal." She suggested with the warm, loving, caring smile glowing on her youthful-looking, beautiful face.

Though he wanted to stay by his son's side, Lord Raven finally acquiesced, and with a scoff, he finally nodded his head.

"Fine. Let's go." He coldly uttered, still sounding hurt, almost as if he was mad at the woman, and not at himself.

He slowly stood up, reluctant to leave his son's side and hand, but ultimately he forced himself to turn around and reach for his walking aid, a dragon head-shaped cane resting beside the armrest of his chair.

He did not speak another word, keeping a cold, insipid, almost contemptuous look as he slowly walked towards the dark brown, redwood door and left the room.

The woman silently followed after him, but not before casting one last disdainful look from the doorway to the sleeping youth on the bed.

"Not too long now…" She sneered, flashing a vicious, cruel grin that she hid almost instantly, and hurried after her 'dear' husband.