Oliver brutally slaughters the remaining tribal men chasing him, questioning his humanity and the darkness consuming him. A mysterious voice assures him he has only grown stronger and can now protect those he cares about. Oliver, filled with memories and a desire to return home to his loved ones, learns his training is complete and he is free to leave the island.
Within the opulent confines of a moving Rolls Royce on the bustling highway, Oliver, clad in a meticulously tailored black suit, was engrossed in the glowing screen of his smartphone, held firmly in his right hand.
He was watching a video recording of his grandfather’s final testament.
The suddenness of his grandfather's passing left Oliver in a state of disbelief. While he was aware of his grandfather's declining health and the likelihood of his imminent death, the news that he had departed this world just a week after Oliver's own forced relocation to the island was a bitter pill to swallow.
Furthermore, the fact that his stay on the island had stretched for a grueling three months only amplified Oliver's frustration. A wave of self-directed anger washed over him, stemming from his failure to remain by his beloved mother's side and offer her comfort and support.
Indeed, Oliver's primary anguish was not the loss of his grandfather, but rather his absence during his mother's time of grief. She had needed him desperately. Yet, here he was, thousands of kilometers away, completely oblivious to the unfolding tragedy.
Oliver felt an overwhelming sense of powerlessness, the sting of not being present for his mother when she needed him most.
"Even in his final moments, Grandfather was utterly selfish," Oliver muttered, clicking his tongue in irritation.
After a period of introspection, he managed to regain a semblance of composure. He then initiated the playback of his grandfather's farewell message.
"Oliver. If you are viewing this video, it signifies that... that I have passed on," the old man rasped, his voice frail and weakened, emanating from a hospital bed. An oxygen mask clung to his face, and the incessant beeping of medical machinery underscored the precariousness of his existence.
He drew a labored breath, pausing for a moment before continuing his discourse.
"I comprehend your potential resentment towards me for dispatching you to that island. And I am certain you harbor a multitude of unspoken grievances. However, the opportunity for reconciliation is now nonexistent, for by the time these words reach your ears, I shall no longer be among the living. Hahaha... Therefore, you are free to curse me as loudly as you desire, to vent your frustrations, to harbor any animosity... Hahaha."
Oliver momentarily halted the video playback, a scowl deepening on his face. "What an absolute scoundrel. He had no right to speak like that, not when he was in such a state."
He resumed the video with a deliberate press of the play button.
"Listen attentively... You are known for your youthful impetuosity and your... proclivities. Nevertheless, I am not unaware of your inherent potential to succeed me as my heir," the old man declared, his voice tinged with weariness yet underscored by an unwavering conviction.
"My certainty stems from... the fact that you have inherited the very essence of our family's lineage... hahaha... a gift and a curse intertwined, yet a force that will propel you to extraordinary heights. And you, Oliver... You shall evolve into the epitome of manhood, no... the ultimate man. Armed with the experiences you will accrue, your striking countenance, and your burgeoning power, you will be fully equipped to govern the vast empire I have painstakingly constructed."
"My aspiration is for you to ascend to a position of absolute dominion, a man commanding unrivaled authority. Without this power, regardless of your intellectual prowess or the extent of your studies, true success will remain elusive. To attain this absolute power, Oliver... to command the empire I bequeath to you... you must embrace actions that others would shy away from. The path will be arduous... it will demand ruthlessness... it will be an unseemly undertaking. I do not anticipate your contentment with this destiny, but such is the unvarnished reality of the world."
Oliver emitted a hollow chuckle, shaking his head in response. "Grandfather, you truly are a man of eccentricities, a profoundly unconventional soul... but if transcending into a monstrous being is the price for protecting and safeguarding those I cherish, then so be it... I shall attain unparalleled global power for their sake."
"Ah... and one final instruction, Oliver..." the old man's voice faded as he drew his last breath, a serene smile gracing his lips. "Indulge your... perverted inclinations... my grandson... and ensure the procreation of numerous... numerous offspring..."
The video concluded, its final frames etching themselves into Oliver's mind.
Oliver remained fixated on the screen, the old man's final words echoing in his consciousness. "Indulge my perverted inclinations and procreate numerous offspring?"
Having endured his recent ordeal, these words seemed utterly nonsensical to him.
It was true, in the past, he had reveled in intimate encounters with various women, exploring the depths of his own desires through such pursuits. However, in his current state, he questioned whether he was even the same Oliver who had embarked on his journey to the island.
A palpable darkness had permeated his heart, and his thoughts had grown increasingly cold and detached. Every aspect of his former self, which he had once believed he understood, had undergone a profound transformation.
His capacity for emotion had dulled considerably, and even the pleasures he once savored now felt utterly meaningless.
"No... This cannot be," Oliver declared, shaking his head in defiance. "This is not how things are meant to be..."
His hand clenched into a tight fist. "I shall not permit myself to become that kind of man... I vehemently refuse to transform into such an individual... I will not devolve into a cold-hearted brute like him. If I were to become so, I would cease to be myself entirely."
Despite his words, Oliver found himself wrestling with internal conflict. The stark reality was that he had transformed into someone devoid of compassion. Survival had necessitated ruthless actions, leaving him indifferent to right and wrong, seeing the world only in shades of grey.
Such was the person he had become.
This transformation was evident to all, yet he resisted acknowledging it.
This denial fueled his desire to prove himself. He yearned to demonstrate that he was still the Oliver who cherished life's beauty and pleasures.
Protecting his loved ones was paramount, but not at the cost of becoming cold-hearted. Such a path would ultimately cause them pain, creating an unbridgeable gap between them. They would come to despise him, leading to the loss of everything he held dear.
Therefore, he refused to accept such a grim fate. Absolutely not.
This conviction drove him to prove that he remained unchanged. He would show that he hadn't succumbed to heartlessness, that he hadn't lost his very essence.
"Follow my wicked desires and bear me many children," Oliver smirked. "I will, Grandfather. I shall revel in this world until my very last breath."
