In the bustling city of Seoul, South Korea, a solemn feeling hovered over the air as Mrs. Han nervously continued her vigil beside her son's hospital bed. With its clean walls and harsh fluorescent lighting, the room reflected her weariness and her furrowed brows and gray roots spoke of her fears. Each second felt like a lifetime as Mrs. Han anxiously awaited the doctor's update, her gaze fixated on him while the surroundings blurred into suspense. "Doctor, what is his condition?" Her voice quivered with a mix of concern and hope.

The hospital room engulfed them in its sterile aura. Medical equipment humming filled the air, accompanied by distant footsteps and muffled conversations. Mrs. Han's gaze switched from the doctor to her unmoving son lying in bed, his serenity contrasting dramatically with the turmoil brewing within her.

The doctor, a calm figure amidst the predicament, offered solace by placing a comforting hand on Mrs. Han's shoulder. His touch momentarily soothed the torrent of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. "Mrs. Han, apart from his extended unconsciousness, everything seems normal. We'll have to wait for him to regain consciousness," he remarked softly, his voice expressing the severity of the situation.

Mrs. Han's eyes sparkled with hope and anxiety as she probed for further details. "Will he wake up?" Her voice trembled, hardly saying the words, as though terrified of the answer that awaited her.

Pausing, the doctor looked for the perfect words to convey the seriousness of the situation while keeping the delicate flame of hope within Mrs. Han's heart. With measured honesty, he said, "When your son fell from the rooftop, his chances of survival were incredibly slim. However, he landed on a thicket of trees that softened the impact. Nevertheless, his injuries are severe." Each word lingered in the air, laden with the weight of reality.

Silence consumed the room as Mrs. Han stared at her son, her thoughts racing with emotions. Regret hung heavily upon her, weighing down on her heart with remorse and self-doubt. Tears ran down her cheeks, leaving tracks of anguish and remorse. She yearned to turn back time, to undo the circumstances that had led them to this point.

"If only I had known..." Her voice quivered with regret, her words interrupted by sobbing. With a resolute move, she brushed away her tears, unwilling to exhibit her frailty to the doctor, who was a consistent support source. "Had I known that Cheol would end up like this, I would have done everything to shield him from the allure of gaming. That thing..." Her voice drifted off, unable to contain her sadness any longer.

Mrs. Han's legs gave way, and she collapsed to the floor, her cries echoing a bitter blend of pain and remorse that filled the hushed room. "eSports took my son away," she lamented.

Struck by Mrs. Han's grief, the doctor grappled with his response, understanding that mere words carried little comfort in such extreme anguish. Yet, he couldn't stand to watch her suffering alone. He let out a quiet sigh and extended a caring hand, offering her a white handkerchief to symbolize comfort amongst the storm.

Renowned and celebrated, the doctor had received praise throughout his distinguished career, with his name ringing through the hospital hallways and his skills sought after by esteemed medical institutions. But at that moment, standing by Mrs. Han, he confronted an unparalleled challenge, humbled by its complexity. For the first time, uncertainty gnawed at his thoughts, throwing doubt on his every action and virtually probing every potential avenue for a breakthrough. The weight of his obligation bore down on him, a constant reminder of the innumerable lives he had rescued. The frustration of his limitations tormented his conscience, an invisible barrier impeding an accurate diagnosis.

Despite his struggle, the doctor remained a tower of strength and compassion in Mrs. Han's presence. His inability to treat Cheol weighed heavily, an underlying fact that no words could erase.

Summoning his strength, the doctor spoke with a calm yet resolute tone. "Mrs. Han, I must admit that Cheol's case is unlike any I have encountered. Despite my years of experience and the lives I have touched, there are moments when even the most profound medical knowledge fails in the face of the unknown."

His remarks lingered, an acknowledgment of his inadequacies as a doctor. Although he couldn't provide the precise answers Mrs. Han sought, he understood the importance of his honesty in preparing her for the challenges ahead.

"Rest assured, our team is doing everything within our power, pooling our knowledge and expertise to guide Cheol towards recovery. But it's also essential to remember that healing is a collaboration between medical treatments and the resilience of the human spirit. Your unwavering support and efforts to stimulate his brain activity can play a crucial role in his journey towards awakening," the doctor explained, his voice filled with empathy and professional detachment.

Taking a deep breath, the doctor added, " In the face of the unknown, hope remains our most powerful weapon."

As Mrs. Han's tears faded, an overwhelming sense of gratitude flooded her, triggered by the doctor's honesty. His words had provided her solace, a gleam of stability in uncertainty. With the given handkerchief, she carefully wiped away her tears, allowing the cloth to absorb her anguish while instilling her strength.

A tranquil smile filled Mrs. Han's face as she stood erect, a brilliant expression of gratitude filling the room. Her eyes shimmered with newfound purpose as if the doctor's honesty had reignited a latent flame within her heart.

"Thank you, doctor. Your honesty means more than you can imagine," Mrs. Han commented, her voice filled with sincerity and respect.

"I'll leave you two alone now. Perhaps our thoughts and prayers will reach Cheol, even in the depths of his slumber," the doctor finished, prepared to depart. He glanced at Cheol's unmoving body, his face blending admiration and optimism.

With a nod of gratitude, Mrs. Han bid the doctor farewell, her heart full of appreciation for his expertise and constant support. As the door closed quietly behind him, a lovely silence engulfed the room, leaving Mrs. Han alone with her comatose son.

Approaching Cheol's bedside, Mrs. Han settled alongside him, her unwavering gaze fixed upon his serene face. She softly grasped his hand, feeling the warmth that radiated from his palm—a subtle comfort that reassured her of his presence within the depths of his slumber.

Mrs. Han poured her love, prayers, and unwavering faith into the world with each breath, hoping they might find their way to Cheol's dormant consciousness. She spoke, revealing fragments of their lives and the world beyond the sterile walls. She mentioned the disbanding of Cheol's eSports team and the imminent closing of the game that had captured his interest. Her words aimed to create a spark of familiarity, an ember of longing that may entice him back into the world.

"Cheol, my dear son, I am deeply sorry," she whispered, her voice conveying a delicate blend of remorse and endless love.

Mrs. Han rose to her feet. She carefully stroked over her son's hair with a shaky hand, admiring his once meticulous appearance—his short, well-groomed hair, now longer and unkempt. Taking one last lingering gaze at his tranquil face, she leaned down and planted a loving kiss on his forehead, promising to return with her eldest son, Hyun, on her next visit.

"Until we meet again, my beloved son," Mrs. Han said, her voice choked with emotion.