Adan stared at the calendar hanging on the wall, his disbelief palpable. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and squinted as if doing so would change the date displayed before him.
"Dead? Or...dream?" he muttered under his breath, his voice trembling slightly.
To test his theory, he slapped both cheeks with enough force to make himself wince.
"Yep...that hurts. Hurts like hell," he grumbled, rubbing his sore face.
His eyes returned to the calendar.
"March 24, 2007, Monday," he read aloud, his tone flat.
The words hit him like a brick. Slowly, realization dawned. He looked down at his hands—plump and free of the calluses he'd gained over the years. His joints moved without the stiffness he'd grown accustomed to, his back felt lighter, and the usual aches and pains of adulthood were gone.
"Holy crap...I'm seventeen again," Adan whispered, his voice trembling with an odd mix of awe and disbelief.
A surge of giddy excitement coursed through him. "No debt! No old-man back pain! No crappy landlord banging on my door!" He laughed, throwing his arms in the air like he'd just won the lottery.
But his joy was short-lived. His hands instinctively reached for his stomach.
"Wait a minute..." He patted the soft, round belly beneath his oversized shirt. His face fell as he realized the grim truth. "My abs and muscle... Nooooo! I wasted my mid 20s getting that six-pack!"
He groaned in despair, pinching at the chubby flesh. His seventeen-year-old self wasn't just young; it was, unfortunately, overweight.
Adan sighed, taking in his appearance through the reflection of a dusty window. He was short and stocky, with a double chin and cheeks that puffed out like a hamster's. His skin was pale from too much time spent indoors, and his hair—thick and unruly—looked like it hadn't seen a proper comb in weeks. His old school uniform clung awkwardly to his frame, the buttons strained slightly around his midsection.
Before he could lament further, a wave of dizziness struck. His head felt light, his ears rang loudly, and a cold sweat broke out on his skin. He swayed on his feet, gripping the table to steady himself.
*****
March 24, 2007, Monday – 5:05 PM
The faint sound snapped him out of his daze. "Huh?" he muttered, looking around the room.
Before he could gather his bearings, a glowing panel appeared out of thin air, floating directly in front of his face.
"What the—" Adan rubbed his eyes furiously. The panel didn't disappear. It hung there, almost taunting him with its presence.
The words on the screen reminded him of a video game interface, complete with cheerful fonts and animations.
Welcome Back!
Greetings, Adan Emika! ^-^
Adan's jaw dropped. "This...this isn't happening," he whispered.
He reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing against the glowing panel. It felt warm, almost alive, and sent a faint tingle through his fingertips.
The text on the screen shifted.
A chance to mend your past!
YAYYY! 🎉
Deadline: One Year
Adan's eyes widened. He read the last line again, his heart skipping a beat.
"A year?" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Before he could process further, more text appeared.
You've been given:
Knowledge of your future!
One chance to change your destiny!
BONUS: Skills Panel Unlocked!
To begin, say: "Alakazam."
Adan stumbled back, his mind racing. Was this some kind of divine joke? Or was that ridiculous phone call—the one he'd dismissed as a prank—not as absurd as he thought?
The glowing panel hovered patiently in front of him, its letters practically glowing with anticipation. Adan stared at it, his hands trembling slightly.
"Alakazam? Seriously? Can't this be more... normal?" he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
The screen didn't respond, remaining as persistent as ever.
Adan sighed, exasperated. "Hey, uh...can you, like, change it to something else? Something less...embarrassing?"
To begin, say: "Alakazam."
Adan groaned, his head falling back dramatically. "This is so stupid," he grumbled.
A low, defeated grunting noise escaped him as he slumped forward.
"Fine," he mumbled under his breath.
Clearing his throat, he spoke softly, "Alakazam."
The screen flickered but didn't fully respond.
"Alakazam."
Please speak louder! Tehehee.
Adan's jaw dropped. "You've got to be kidding me! This thing's got a lame sense of humor?" he grumbled, glaring at the screen as though it could feel his disdain.
Resigned, he inhaled deeply, clenching his fists. "Alakazam!" he said in a louder, slightly frustrated tone.
The panel glowed brightly in response, and with a faint hum, new menus and icons materialized in the air before him. The intricate designs shimmered like holograms, each one labeled with neat, glowing text.
Adan stared at the display in awe, his earlier embarrassment fading into the background. He reached out instinctively, his fingers hovering over a glowing tab labeled Skills.
"This...this is real," he whispered, a strange mixture of excitement and unease washing over him.
Whatever this was—divine intervention, some bizarre prank, or a second chance—it was clear that he was no longer dreaming.