At last, he managed to pry open his heavy eyelids after a series of unsuccessful attempts. Anxious to survey his surroundings for his final target, he realized the gravity of the situation. In the situation he was in, a mere second of closed eyes could spell death, and he was certain he had shut his eyes for more than just a fleeting moment.

To his horror, he quickly discovered that his body wasn't responding as expected. All sensations were absent, and everything he beheld resembled a low-resolution, blurred video. It dawned on him — another colossal mistake in a life-or-death battle.

"What happened? Did I manage to kill him? Did I slay the Demon King, or did the opposite occur?" The questions lingered in his mind, intensifying the uncertainty of his situation.

Even with the chaotic state of his mind, he clung to the recollection of his final goal. Despite the disarray of the current situation, he could still vividly recall the weight of responsibility. 

The weight of all humanity,

No,

Hopes of all races residing on Earth rested upon him, a responsibility he couldn't shake even in the face of his own death.

Amidst his blurry vision, a brilliant white light swiftly approached him. As the light enveloped him, somewhat clarity began to return, revealing colossal figures gazing down at his direction.

"Gods?" he wanted to ask, but his voice remained trapped within.

“White light and divine figures—so, heaven,” he mused. Not bad, he thought, after enduring 50 years of hell called Earth, he can finally find rest. With that notion, he closed his eyes, expecting the transition to a tranquil afterlife. Yet, to his surprise, nothing happened.

He anticipated some kind of transformative event, yet nothing unfolded.

"What is going on?" he questioned, perplexed.

In a moment of realization, he opened his eyes, only to witness the retreating light.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"Wait, wait! Why is it going away?" Panic set in.

As the light drifted further, he desperately wished to scream, to halt its departure, fearing the prospect of descending into hell. However, his throat remained silent, devoid of any audible plea.

"Oh, it's coming back," he noted with a glimmer of hope.

“No, it’s leaving me,again.”

But the cycle repeated—coming and going, teasing him with its unpredictable dance.

"It's repeating, again and again. What is going on?" he screamed within the confines of his mind.

After several cycles of white lights and godly phantoms appearing and vanishing, he gradually began to understand the nature of what lay before him.

The only logical conclusion he could draw was that those weren't lights coming toward him; rather, he was somehow in motion, and the gods were moving alongside him. The questions lingered - where was he going, and how was he getting there? And why are gods coming with him?

Suddenly, it all came to a halt. Above his head, the bright white light and imposing figures loomed.

"Wait, why do they resemble gods with creepy smiles from a low-leveling anime?" he pondered.

Upon closer inspection, they weren't god’s creepy smiles but individuals wearing peculiar blue masks. It made sense to him; these weren't divine beings, but doctors. The realization struck him - how had he transitioned from the demon world to what appeared to be a hospital?

After what felt like an eternity, he finally regained a semblance of clear sensation, sight, and hearing.

"Good Lord, the patient now has a consistent pulse," one person exclaimed.

Another voice chimed in with a cautionary note, " His eyes are wandering around, could be side effects, like hallucination."

"It's not good. He's regaining consciousness. The amount of pain his head is processing could lead to dire repercussions," a third voice expressed concern.

"Prepare halothane. We need him unconscious for this," someone instructed, emphasizing the urgency of the situation.

A strange sense of déjà vu washed over him, as if these exact words and circumstances were eerily familiar. A distant, painfully buried memory surged within him like a sudden flash.

"No, no, no! I never want to go through that again. Not again.This must be a dream, it must be a dream," he screamed within the confines of his mind, desperately attempting to distance himself from the unfolding reality and run away, but his body didn’t respond to anything.

His futile attempt at escape was cut short, as the last thing he saw was a gas mask approaching him, bringing with it an impending sense of dread.

…

"Doctor Jacob! Doctor Jacob!"

A young female hospital attendant shouted in the main hall, rushing toward a young-looking doctor adorned in a white coat over his blue uniform, with a stethoscope hanging around his neck.

"Theresa, I know you're new, but screaming in the hallway is very unprofessional," he scolded her as she approached.

Ignoring the curious gazes of onlookers in the hallway, Theresa didn't bother to glance around. "Guy in the gray room just woke up," she managed to say between heavy breaths.

"WHAT!!!!!!!" 

Doctor exclaimed loudly, his surprise evident. Without wasting a moment, they both sprinted back towards the origin of Theresa's urgent call.