Flavius was in his bed while his mother discussed with the two women gathering up the last people who didn’t want to leave Blacksoil. Flavius’s mother was a single woman since his father had died right at the start of the apocalypse. Some monster had killed him out of nowhere as if it had appeared out of thin air. The monster came in the shape of a giant chameleon or salamander if the adults who had been with him had to be trusted.

The young man, Flavius, still remembered the first day of the apocalypse. After botching another university exam, he had come back to Blacksoil to spend some time with his family. His parents never made any remark about his poor university career; he was still passing some exams, although slowly.

But they had been so proud, so happy for him.

The first doctor in our family.

It had become a title, an aura, a headpiece he carried in every room he entered with a family member of his.

At the start of the apocalypse, he had vomited the hell out of his breakfast and had somehow secreted a blackish film from his skin pores. It had been one of the most disgusting experiences he had ever had in his life.

And when a man had come into his mother’s house trying to take advantage of her, Flavius had killed him. He had hesitated at first, not sure that killing a man was the right way to go about it. But then, remembering his mother crying, he punched the bastard’s throat, leaving him with a broken windpipe to suffocate slowly amid silent screams.

That had turned ugly.

People had come looking for him. Flavius was stronger than any one of them, but he had never fought in his entire life, and he finally went to the ground, where they kicked him to oblivion.

Now, he couldn’t get out of a bed. His legs didn’t work anymore, nor did his arms, nor his head. He could barely breathe and swallow.

He couldn’t speak.

Being a medicine student, he hadn’t known that such an outcome was possible. How could a person remain fully paralyzed after a beating? It didn’t make any sense. Even if they broke a vertebra, this shouldn’t have happened. Maybe his legs, sure, but his entire body?

Medically speaking, it was absurd.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

And that’s why Flavius thought this had had something to do with the change that had come with the apocalypse.

His ash-blonde hair fell in front of his eyes, partially blocking his sight.

Out of many things he had imagined for his life, flunking out of medicine, becoming a simple grocery store clerk, maybe just coming back to Blacksoil and marrying a simple farm girl, he would have never imagined that he was going to end up like this.

Now, he felt steps coming to his room. The main reason his mother didn’t want to move from Blacksoil was that she wasn’t sure it would be possible to move Flavius without killing him. Every time she had tried moving him around to wash him or to feed him, he had always emitted muffled screams of pain.

How could he sustain a ‘long’ trip to another city?

“Paralyzed?” he heard a woman’s voice, deep and sensual.

“Yes,” his mother's voice answered with a protective edge to it.

“Well, let’s see,” his bed had been moved so that he could see whoever entered his room.

A beautiful tall woman appeared at the door, and she shot a curious look to Flavius.

“Hot son, I have to say,” the woman commented to the displeasure of his mother.

“Flavius tried to help me, and that’s what those bastards did to him!” Flavius could see his mom tearing up, as she did every time she looked at him. She had taken to visit him less than before just because she couldn’t look at him. The woman had always been so proud of her son that seeing him in that condition was simply too painful for her; it wasn’t the image that she wanted to remember him by.

“Interesting. They made him a cripple, but they didn’t finish the job,” the woman commented with the same detached curiosity of her previous comment.

She got close to Flavius, and he tried to say something, even though only a gurgle came from his throat.

“Yeah, pretty boy, let’s see if we can do something about this,” the tall woman said.

Then, Flavius nodded a second girl, probably closer to his age, standing a few steps behind. She had an athletic look and a freckled face; she was simply the most breathtaking girl he had ever seen.

The tall woman followed his gaze toward Juliet.

“You like the tangy little fruits more than the ripe ones, huh? Well, who am I to judge people sexual orientation,” the tall woman snorted and put a hand on his neck.

“What are you doing?” his mother almost screamed at the touch on his skin.

“Checking if I can unmake this, woman. Shut up, please,” the tall woman did not care about manners nor what the people in the room thought of her.

“Tailless Gods,” the woman swore, “this kid has a 9th level talent in both Qi and Mana! And they also messed with his Qi somehow. It seems like rogue Qi entered his system, and he just doesn’t know how to get rid of it.”

Flavius listened attentively to the words the woman was speaking, as you do when someone appears to be able to cure you of a full-body paralysis.

“Oh, I can cure the little hottie,” the woman put another hand much lower on his body, too close to his intimate parts for Flavius liking.

He felt a jolt of pain ripple through his body, and his scream came as muffled as usual.

“Juliet, keep the woman away from me. This is going to hurt a lot. This guy should have solved this problem on his own. If I have to do it for him, my Qi is going to mess up with his a bit.”