Erik's last breath was slow, measured. At 95, he'd lived a full life—graduated, worked, loved, and aged. The fading light of his room dimmed further as his consciousness slipped away. As he drifted into what he thought was eternal sleep, a strange voice broke through the stillness: "Live free. Do what you like."
His eyes shot open. He gasped, his heart racing. But instead of the familiar old room, he found himself staring at a blackboard. The sharp scent of chalk hit his nose. Erik blinked, looking down. His hands were smooth, unwrinkled.
"What...?"
He looked around the classroom, confused. The desks, the posters on the walls—it was his high school, the same classroom he'd been in as a teenager. But that was impossible! He touched his face, smooth and young. He looked at his reflection in the glass. It wasn't the frail, elderly version of himself anymore. He was 18 again. He started breathing fast, panic setting in.
"No, no, no... this has to be a dream."
Suddenly, the voice from earlier returned, booming in his mind. "You are a god, Erik. Do what you like."
The words hit him like a lightning bolt. He wasn't just back in time; he was powerful. The old rules of life no longer applied. A grin crept across his face.
"This is gonna be fun."