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Erica Midwinter I [ACT ???]

ACT ???

February 22 2030 – 19:20

Olympia City


~♫ I can’t remember~♪

~♫ How I used to be~ ♪

~ ♫ It’s been so long together 

~ ♫ with each other…

In the heart of Olympia City, a bustling metropolis known for its prosperity, the rhythmic beats of hip hop music reverberated within the confines of a sleek car. The bass thumped in harmony with the pulse of the city itself, as if the music was an extension of the urban landscape. The lyrics of the song painted a nostalgic picture of forgotten memories, blending seamlessly with the city’s vibrant energy.

The engine roared to life, accompanied by a symphony of revving and the gentle sound of her phone’s notification. The melody of the music intertwined with the urban soundscape – car horns, distant chatter, and the occasional sirens. Amidst this harmonious chaos, her phone’s call notification drew her attention.


She reached for her phone, fingers brushing the steering wheel as she picked it up with a distinctive click. “Hello? Who is it?” Her voice cut through the music, temporarily silencing the beats.


A moment of eerie silence followed, causing a frown to crease her brow. Uncertainty gripped her as she began to raise the phone to end the call, thinking it was a wrong number. But just as her thumb hovered over the screen, a voice, distorted and unnerving, crackled through the speaker.

“Y̶o̷u̷ ̸a̶r̴e̷ ̸ ■■■■”

The gibberish that flowed from the phone sent shivers down her spine. Confusion and a hint of fear etched across her face as she attempted to respond, only to be interrupted by an excruciating headache. It was as if a torrent of unknown thoughts had flooded her mind, leaving her dizzy and disoriented.


Instinctively, she clutched her head in an attempt to soothe the pain, unwittingly loosening her grip on the steering wheel. The world around her seemed to blur as her focus shifted from the road to her throbbing head.

But reality soon caught up with her. With a sudden jolt, she regained control of herself, realizing that her car was hurtling forward at an alarming speed. Panic surged through her veins, heart pounding as she scanned her surroundings. The bustling city streets, once her familiar playground, had transformed into a chaotic maelstrom.

And yet, her reflexes were too slow. The impending collision loomed larger than life, the blaring horn of an oncoming truck joining the chorus of chaos.



The symphony of sounds reached its crescendo with the deafening crash. Glass shattered like crystal rain, the sharp shards scattering like stars against the canvas of the city night. Metal met metal with a thunderous clash, a stark reminder of the fragility of existence.

In a heartbeat, airbags erupted from their concealed alcoves, cocooning her in a cocoon of safety. The violent collision was mitigated by their timely intervention, sparing her from the brunt of the impact.

As the echoes of the crash subsided, a surreal stillness blanketed the scene. The once-vibrant hip hop music was now replaced by the symphony of destruction and emergency sirens wailing in the distance. Smoke billowed from the wreckage, tendrils of chaos intertwining with the neon lights that adorned Olympia City’s skyline.

In this prosperous city, where dreams and ambitions intertwined with the hum of progress, an unforeseen event had shattered the illusion of control. And as the dust settled, the true nature of the journey ahead became painfully clear – a path fraught with unexpected turns, where the rhythm of life could change in an instant, just like the beat of a song.


As the wailing sirens grew louder, the cacophony of the accident site attracted a swarm of flashing blue and red lights. The police cars arrived first, forming a perimeter around the wreckage, their officers springing into action to direct traffic and secure the area. Soon after, the ambulance crew rushed in, their urgent voices and coordinated movements a stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded moments ago.

The paramedics worked swiftly, assessing the situation and carefully extricating her from the crumpled metal shell that had been her car. She was then transported with utmost care into the waiting ambulance, the steady beep of monitoring equipment serving as a somber backdrop to the urgency of the moment.

Olympia City’s renowned Prospera General Hospital was her next destination. The hospital’s bustling emergency room was a testament to the city’s advanced medical capabilities. Surgeons and medical teams stood ready to perform the life-saving operation she so desperately needed.

Hours stretched into days as the surgical team battled to stabilize her fragile condition. The prognosis was grim; her injuries were severe, and her body’s resilience was being tested to its limits. Despite their best efforts, the doctors faced an uphill battle against the devastating consequences of the crash.

But as the days turned into a harrowing wait, hope began to dwindle. The surgery had been her best chance at recovery, yet her body seemed unwilling to respond. Tubes and wires kept her connected to machines that beeped and whirred, the artificial sounds of life pulsating through her sterile hospital room.

Time turned into a merciless companion, and the hospital room became a place of quiet despair. She lay in a state of suspended animation, her external injuries healing while her internal battle raged on.

The medical staff did their best, adjusting medications and treatments, but the truth remained undeniable: she was trapped within the confines of her own body, her consciousness adrift in a sea of darkness.

Amid the hushed conversations of nurses and the hum of medical equipment, one topic seemed to circulate like a whispered secret. The nurses in her ward exchanged somber glances, their voices hushed as they discussed the tragic fate that had befallen her.

“Hey, is it true?” one nurse asked, her eyes heavy with sadness. “That she’s still alive?”

A weary sigh escaped the lips of another nurse as she nodded solemnly. “Yes… how truly unfortunate. She was just as young as my son, who’s going off to college.”

The weight of the situation hung heavy in the air, an unspoken understanding that some battles couldn’t be won no matter how advanced the medical technology.

The first nurse’s curiosity persisted. “What was her name again?”

With a sigh that carried the weight of countless emotions, the second nurse replied, “Erica… Erica Midwinter.”

And so, the name that had once resonated with life and energy now lingered as a poignant reminder of the fragility of existence. In a city that epitomized prosperity, the line between vitality and vulnerability had been cruelly blurred for Erica Midwinter.

The bustling life of Olympia City continued outside the hospital walls, unaware of the silent struggle within – a struggle that defied medical explanation and challenged the very essence of what it meant to be alive.


Epitome of Imagination

Epitome of Imagination

Status: Ongoing Type: Author: Artist: Native Language: English
[PLAYING RECORD A62] After approximately five minutes... [END] [WOULD YOU LIKE TO PLAY THE NEXT RECORD? Y/N] "Yes" *Sigh* "It appears that both idiots have already departed," replied an enchanting woman with crimson hair. "But where is Grey?" *LICK She moistens her lips in anticipation. "It seems I must locate you," she said alluringly. "Miss Katherine, we have discovered Mister Silverstein in this particular record. Take a look," the secretary remarked. [PLAYING RECORD A63] While she was deep in thought, her gaze fell upon the playing record. "Oh, my." "Heheheh~" "I've found you," she said as her eyes gleamed with intense crimson. Displayed on the screen was a man with distinctive yet unremarkable features—lustrous gray hair complemented by his gray eyes—manipulating a vase without any visible means, as if possessing extraordinary abilities. His name was Grey. ------------------------- This story incorporates elements such as a system, statistics, skills, litrpg, swordplay, and magic in a world that combines medieval aesthetics with advanced technology. Author's Note: This marks my first foray into writing, so I kindly request your understanding and support. This novel is also available on 'Webnovel' & Scribblehub. Note: The artwork featured here does not belong to me. If it is your creation, please inform me so proper credit can be given.


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not work with dark mode