"It's now the 11th of October 2300. You've been dead for three months."
Star sat down at the bedside, a beaming smile on her face.
Harrison Clark: "..."
"What does this mean? I thought I died already. Have I resurrected?"
A sense of foreboding steadily surged up within him.
He again looked at his arm. His muscles were vigorous and sturdy, his pores were small, and his skin had a slight bronze color - far from looking like an old man, he looked more like a well-trained soccer player in his early twenties.
Harrison Clark was increasingly perplexed.
If he remembered correctly, when he wore the Galaxy War Armor in the Eighth Timeline, his physical condition was pretty much like this at its peak.
"What exactly is going on? Am I not dead? Have I become young again? This..."
Harrison Clark pondered for a moment.
The sudden turn of events somehow disrupted his plan.
