[A/N: Words in the bracket () are other people's thoughts which he can hear]
Stefan, clad in a sweatshirt, blue jeans, and white sneakers, moved cautiously through the brightly lit lobby, making his way toward the hospital's exit.
Glancing around, he felt as though he had awakened in an entirely different world. In the past, he had to conceal his face while walking the streets, yet now, no one spared him a second glance.
They instinctively distanced themselves, perceiving him as someone on the brink of death. With sunken eyes and a gaunt face, he resembled a troubled figure, perhaps someone addicted to drugs.
'A hundred years!' he gasped inwardly, taking in the futuristic ambiance of the lobby. As he neared the glass doors, they slid open, allowing him to step through.
Raising his gaze, he observed the sky, scattered with stars similar to the night he was shot.
"What's this? Are the stars welcoming me?" he scoffed internally. Sleek cars navigated the roads below, and various images flashed across towering skyscraper billboards.
"Eternal Era has completely dominated their opponents, progressing to the quarter-finals. Their captain's mastery over the field is unparalleled!" Stefan heard a voice emanating from a billboard and turned to look.
Displayed on the billboard were two anchors discussing a match that took place on the moon. 'Eternal Era, much like New Era,' he contemplated.
Suddenly, the screen changed, revealing the match. He observed titans adorned in sleek metallic armors, even the ball appearing vastly different from the norm.
Intrigued, Stefan watched a slender figure, undoubtedly a woman, maneuvering with the ball. She deftly tipped it over her opponent, vanishing and reappearing three meters ahead, passing the ball to a lean man who took the shot.
A lion-like mirage enveloped the ball as it soared toward the goalpost. The phantom lion pounced, slamming the goalkeeper into the post, and the ball followed suit.
Even after five minutes, Stefan remained transfixed by the screen, struggling to fathom what he had just witnessed. "W-Was that soccer?" he questioned aloud, excitement coursing through him as he watched the replay and witnessed the team's jubilation.
Glancing down at his withered legs, barely supporting his frame, Stefan's eyes welled up.
Only two things in this world could stir such emotions within him—his family and his passion.
"There's no more Blaze. Go home to your mother," he softly reiterated the Micheal's words to himself.
With human lifespans purportedly doubling and the doctor's assurances, he clung to the hope that his mother would still be alive.
The yearning to reclaim his status as a Titan, to once again rise to the top, faded as Stefan gazed at his deteriorated body. All the rigorous training had dwindled away, leaving behind a mere shell of his former self.
Unconsciously, he stepped into the road, the traffic light—now suspended in the middle of the road—still glowing red.
(Is that kid drunk?!)
A voice thundered in his mind, and his eyes widened with bolts of red light crackling through them. Time seemed to slow down as the car's headlights shone on his face while he looked down at his foot.
Stepping back, the car sped past him, the driver's loud curses echoing in his mind, causing him to grimace.
"Ay, are you okay?" asked a concerned man, and Stefan nodded. "I am."
Though it was a daunting task, he eventually found his district and mustered the strength to run home, his pace quickening as he drew nearer.
But upon arrival, Stefan stood motionless, his eyes trembling as he stared at the café that now occupied the space where the duplex he had built for himself and his mother once stood.
A hundred years had transformed him into a stranger in his own world, a world he once dominated.
Hurrying to the café's door, he stumbled as the glass slid open. Looking around, he marched toward the counter, clenching his fist in frustration.
"Stef?"
Just as he was about to confront a server, a familiar voice struck a chord deep within him, causing him to abruptly turn.
An aged woman, appearing to be in her late fifties, stood by the door leading to the workers' area.
"M-Mum!" he exclaimed, rushing towards her. Embracing the woman who was once young and vibrant, Stefan felt his heart wrench as she wept.
After a while, Stefan sat in a modestly furnished office that lacked the futuristic feel he experienced at the hospital.
Pictures of him and his team adorned the walls, alongside a larger one featuring him, his mother, and his coach.
"I asked the doctors; they said you might never wake up," Sang-hee, his mother, said softly.
A pure Korean, a rarity after the world's color distinctions vanished post-unification. People were now more focused on differences between moon-born, those from mars, or aliens from other galaxies.
"I don't care about that. What happened to our house?" Stefan pressed.
Sang-hee smiled bitterly. "Stef, you need rest. Why did those professionals release you right after you woke up!" she hissed, but Stefan persisted.
"What happened?"
"The club. You signed a five-year contract but played only one year, so they seized what they gave to cover their losses so I sold everything in the house and slowly rebuilt it into this."
"W-What?" Stefan couldn't believe his ears. Was this the same team where the manager treated him like a father figure?
"But in that one year, I changed that club, I TOOK THEM TO THE PEAK!" he yelled, anguish gripping his heart at the realization that they made his mother work.
"Stef, please don't shout," Sang-hee implored, embracing her son who clutched the picture of him and the team.
Tears welled in his eyes as he held the picture tightly. In his prime, he could've shattered it, but now he could barely dent the wooden frame.
Lightning flashed through his tears, and as a teardrop hit the picture, it burst into flames.
Stunned, Stefan threw it to the ground, stomping it until the fire died out. "Stef, we still have an apartment. I've always kept your room clean, knowing you'd come back to me. Let's go," Sang-hee said, offering a warm smile.
She wiped away his tears and gently led him out of the room.
"I've learned how to prepare those meals your father loved. Would you like to have some?"