"If you were given a chance, what would you do?"

"Will you accept it? Or risk it?"

"Isn't life all about chances and choices from the start?"

The year is 2039, Friday, December 31st, 11:59 in the evening.

My name is Damian. Damian Ravolski.

"Thirty... Twenty-nine...!" (The voices of people roared.)

New York's Times Square, it's crowded. Really crowded.

"Ten... Nine... Eight... Seven...!"

The new year's countdown. Well, it's not like anything would change.

"Three... Two... One...!"

...Right?

...Zero!

(Suddenly, the bright New Year lights vanished, and the crowd's countdown quieted. A small cube with numbers floated before each person's eyes. Chatter rose—was this a prank?)

"This is?" Damian asked.

"Welcome, people of planet Earth," a voice soared across the sky, delivering its sound to many different people and tongues.

(Noises in the square grew louder—some thought it was a prank; others, an event. It was disturbing, to say the least.)

"I'm no expert in manga and those types of things, but one thing is clear," Damian thought.

(He grabbed the dice and threw it to the ground.)

"Roll it," Damian smirked as he rolled it.