Rain pelted the cracked asphalt of the empty street as Ethan Carter trudged along, his soaked sneakers slapping against the ground. He clutched his threadbare jacket tighter around himself, though it did little to fend off the biting chill. The city's distant lights shimmered in the puddles, a stark contrast to the darkness pressing in around him.
It had been another miserable day. The kind that made him wonder how much more he could take.
"Late again, Carter," his boss had growled that morning, the words accompanied by a scowl that conveyed his disdain. The double shift had stretched on endlessly, with Ethan enduring the sharp bark of customers and the oppressive weight of disappointment that clung to him like a second skin.
Now, hours later, he was finally heading home. Or at least, what he called home—a dingy studio apartment that smelled faintly of mildew and desperation. His bike, the only reliable way he had to get around, had been stolen the previous week. The extra walking added another layer of exhaustion to his already frayed nerves.
He reached the alleyway that cut through to his street, a shortcut he'd taken countless times before. The dim glow of a flickering streetlamp barely illuminated the narrow path, casting long, wavering shadows. He hesitated at the entrance. Something about the night felt off, but he shook the thought away.
"Just tired," he muttered to himself. "Keep moving."
Halfway through the alley, he heard it: the unmistakable shuffle of footsteps behind him. His heart jumped as he glanced over his shoulder. Two figures emerged from the darkness, their faces obscured by hoods. The glint of a knife caught his eye, and cold dread settled in his chest.
"Hey, man, got any cash?" one of them drawled, his voice casual but laced with menace.
Ethan's mind raced. He had less than twenty bucks in his wallet, barely enough to cover the rest of the week. "Look, I don't want any trouble," he said, raising his hands. "I don't have much, but you can take it."
The second figure stepped closer. "Smart choice. Hand it over."
With shaking hands, Ethan pulled out his wallet and tossed it to the ground. The first man snatched it up, rifling through the bills with a sneer.
"This all you got?" he snapped.
Ethan nodded quickly. "It's everything. Just let me go."
The man grunted, stuffing the cash into his pocket. "Yeah, fine. Get lost."
Relief washed over Ethan as he turned to leave, but the moment was shattered by a sudden shove. He stumbled forward, hitting the ground hard. Pain flared in his palms and knees as gravel bit into his skin.
"Watch your back, loser," one of them muttered before their footsteps receded into the night.
Ethan stayed on the ground for a moment, his breath ragged and his heart pounding. He felt the sting of tears in his eyes but forced them back. "Not now," he whispered, pushing himself to his feet. "Not here."
By the time he emerged from the alley, the rain had turned into a steady downpour. He crossed the street, his head down, his thoughts a tangled mess of frustration and despair. He didn't see the truck until it was too late.
The blaring horn jolted him, and he froze, his eyes locking onto the blinding headlights bearing down on him. Time seemed to slow as he tried to move, but his body wouldn't respond. The last thing he felt was the cold splash of water as the truck's tires hit a puddle, and then everything went black.
When Ethan opened his eyes, the world was unrecognizable.
He lay on a soft, grassy surface, the scent of wildflowers and fresh earth filling his senses. Above him, the sky was a brilliant tapestry of colors—violet, gold, and streaks of deep blue swirling together in a mesmerizing dance. He blinked, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing.
"Where… am I?" he murmured, sitting up slowly. His body felt strange, lighter somehow, and as he looked down at his hands, a jolt of shock ran through him. These weren't his hands. They were smaller, unscarred, and uncalloused, like those of a teenager.
A wave of panic surged through him as fragmented memories began to surface. His name was Ethan Carter, but the body he now occupied wasn't his own. Images flashed in his mind—a boy's face, unfamiliar yet oddly familiar, and the sensation of something pulling him toward this place.
"This isn't possible," he whispered, his voice shaking. "Am I… dead?"
Before he could make sense of it, a soft chime echoed around him, and a translucent blue screen appeared in the air before him. Lines of text scrolled across it, their meaning sinking into his mind as though they were being etched directly into his thoughts.
Welcome, Ethan Carter.
You have been chosen as a candidate for the 'S' Energy Field. Prepare for awakening.
The screen blinked, and a rush of energy coursed through Ethan's body, leaving him breathless. He doubled over, his hands gripping the grass as the sensation surged through him. It was as if the very fabric of this strange world was being imprinted onto his soul.
When the rush subsided, the screen displayed a single message: Your journey begins now.
Ethan stared at the screen, his mind reeling. Whatever had happened to him, it was clear that his life—or whatever this was—would never be the same.