Untold chronicles of power

Chapter hundred Twenty- eight

As Jackson's eyes fluttered open once more, he found himself greeted not by the sterile confines of a hospital room, but by the warm embrace of a cozy, albeit unfamiliar, bedroom.

His gaze swept over the room, taking in the subtle details—a neatly made bed, a small desk cluttered with papers, and a window overlooking a lush garden bathed in the soft light of dawn.

Confusion gnawed at Jackson's mind as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. How had he come to be here?

And more importantly, who were the people who had saved him from the river and brought him to this place?

Before he could voice his questions, the door to the room swung open, and the man and woman he had seen earlier rushed inside, their faces etched with concern.

"Jackson," the man exclaimed, his voice filled with relief as he approached the bed. "You're awake."

Jackson's brow furrowed in confusion as he struggled to recall the events that had led him here.

"Where am I?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncer