I woke to a world that I didn't— no— couldn't recognize as my own.
I was told by a giant Ape wearing glasses upon my awakening that I had been in a coma for the past fifty years, and that my body had come under their care only recently as a gesture from the United States Government.
They, being the 'peacekeeping organization' called Overwatch, which had evidently been formed by the United Nations, disbanded, and then illegally formed again in the present day.
I, under normal circumstances would never believe this, but seeing as I was talking to an incredibly intelligent and be-speckled ape and I wasn't on drugs; I chose to accept this as my current reality.
"What happened to the hospital I was in? Why am I not there now?" I asked, looking around some more at the white curtains and machines I was no longer hooked up too.
"Upon discovering your… unique condition, and the death of all of your living blood relatives, you were handed over to the United States Government for… research purposes."
"What did they do to me while I was out?" I asked; an edge to my voice.
"They mostly took blood samples to try and figure out your condition."
"Condition this, condition that! What are you talking about?"
Winston sighed and rubbed his brown in a very human gesture.
"Perhaps it is best to show you." He sighed, reaching over to the bedside table to withdraw a simple hand-mirror. He held it up in front of my face.
"Did you ever wonder why you always looked younger than everyone in your class? Or your age? The cells in your body are wired strangely; they are in this continuous cycle of healing and repairing themselves.
Once humans hit twenty two their brains begin decaying along with their bodies, as Dr. Ziegler likes to put it, 'Death is the disease of mortals'. You, when you sleep, heal yourself again. The more you sleep, the easier it is for you perpetually twenty two."
I shakily regarded my appearance in the mirror as I listened to him explain.
I was looking at my face.
I was supposed to be eighty, but I looked just the same as I did yesterday. Except my hair was ridiculously long from, I guess, not being cut for eighty years.
"Hey, Winston, was it?" I began softly, my eyes falling from my reflection to look at the hands folded in my lap, "What's happened since I was out?"
Winston laughed and said, "Too much to explain at the moment, but let me leave you with the knowledge that you will be cared for with a stipend from Overwatch and an apartment almost wherever you wish."
"Hmm, pretty sweet setup for someone who was rudely experimented on while in a coma."
Winston shrugged apologetically, "It is what it is. We cannot change the past anymore than we'd like to." He sighed, seeming to get lost in thought for a moment, and then he cleared his throat. "We do have one condition upon your release."
"And what's that?" I asked dryly.
He fidgeted, seeming uncomfortable with the following request,
"You must keep everything about your past hidden; who you are, when you were born, the affiliation with the American Government, Overwatch, everything."
"Are you serious? What would you do if I refused?"
"I don't want to seem rude, but Overwatch would have to kill you."