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Chapter 2 - 1-Awakening in White (Rewritten Again)

"Harry? Can you hear me?"

The voice sliced through the thick fog in his head. Harry groaned weakly, rubbing his eyes with his palms. He opened them a moment later, blinding, white light washed over him. His head throbbed intensely. And then the faint smell of antiseptic wafted through the air. 

"Come on, Harry. You can do it. Try again." 

Another voice—this one had a calmer, steadier sound to it. He forced his eyes open once more, and this time the whiteness dulled. The flat ceiling lights rose above him, followed by two faces leaning in engaging him.

One face was a tall figure, dressed professionally in a white doctor coat and stethoscope. The other figure was older, dressed smartly in a dark gray suit tire; folds of concern around a well-aged face. 

A doctor. And then... who was the other man? A family member? Fan? 

No, that did not seem quite right. He did not have friends or family. 

In his previous life, Harry was a powerful, and solitary man. The Chairman of OmniStream Media, a company he started without inheritance, - or family, mind you - as a digital news start-up in the basement of a software company.

He had turned the start-up into the most powerful media conglomerate that included TV channels, movie studios, and even streaming platforms. It had made Harry wealthy and powerful, but it had also made Harry very lonely. Family only came around when they wanted something, his Board had betrayed him, and all his relationships had been mostly transactional.

And what was the last thing he remembered?

A screech of tires. A horn. Then impact. 

Then blackness. He was sure he was dead. So what the hell happened to him?

"I can hear you... but you're too loud" Harry rasped out, his voice dry like sandpaper.

The man in the suit—middle-aged, with silver streaks in his hair and a sharp jaw—let out a sigh of relief.

"Doctor, can you please give us a moment. I'll be outside."

The man left the room, his footsteps soft on the floor.

The doctor stepped closer to Harry's bedside and smiled kindly. "Harry, I'm Dr. Patel. You've been unconscious for more than three weeks. We're at St. Jude's Hospital, New York. You were in a plane crash. You have multiple fractures, a concussion, and internal trauma, but you are fortunate enough to still be alive." 

Harry blinked. Plane crash?

"I... was hit by a truck," he muttered. Confused. But no—those were his memories. Harry Jackson's memories, not this Harry. The names matched, but the lives did not. His head started to feel like it would explode.

Suddenly, he was inundated with a barrage of unfamiliar memories.

A different Harry. Another life. One that had a father, billionaire, a media empire and a tragic crash...

He closed his eyes and let the realization wash over him. 

It was clear now. 

He had died in his original world - and started life anew in another. Not as a newborn, but as the person who had just barely lived.

Reincarnation. Exactly like the books he'd garbage but it was real... and it hurt.

"Am I dreaming?" he murmured.

"No, Harry. You are most definitely, not asleep."

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