"What the f—?!"
An ugly old man jolted awake, his breath hitching in shock.
The last thing he remembered was the cold, hard pavement beneath him, the stench of alcohol clinging to his ragged clothes.
He had been just another miserable vagrant, wasting away on the streets, his body ravaged by years of addiction.
Booze, drugs—he had taken anything he could get his hands on to numb the pain of existence.
But now… everything had changed.
He sat up, blinking in disbelief. His body no longer ached.
The weakness that had plagued him for years was gone, replaced by a strange, overwhelming power thrumming through his veins.
He could feel it—the infinite, unshackled force of the universe bending to his will.
He didn't know how or why this had happened. Had some god taken pity on him? Had he been chosen for something greater?
Frankly, he didn't care.
He was omnipotent.
With a mere thought, the world bent at his command. He could slow time, stop it, reverse it.
He could reshape reality itself, and there was no one—nothing—that could oppose him.
And of course, he wasted no time indulging in the ultimate fantasy.
For an entire week, he basked in excess.
He bedded the most famous actresses, seduced powerful women, and lived the kind of life only billionaires could dream of.
Every fleeting desire, every twisted whim—he satisfied them all.
But pleasure alone wasn't enough.
As he lounged in a penthouse overlooking the glittering city, surrounded by the finest luxuries, a thought surfaced in his mind.
A thought that gripped him with an intensity he couldn't ignore.
"I want to go back in time," he whispered.
The words hung in the air, carrying the weight of something deeper than lust or indulgence.
He wanted more than just power—he wanted to rewrite everything.
A slow smile spread across his lips.
And then, in an instant, he vanished.
***
"I'm back. I'm really back!" our OP MC shouted like a madman.
He sprinted to the mirror and stared in disbelief—not at the old, miserable man he once was, but at his restored 18-year-old body.
By no means was he handsome, but with his overpowered abilities, that was an easy fix. Still, there were more important things to do first.
His family—he had to see them!
Tap
Tap
Tap
He ran downstairs, his breath uneven, his heart pounding in his chest. And then he saw her.
She stood in the kitchen, humming softly as she prepared breakfast, completely unaware of the storm of emotions raging within him.
She was breathtaking—5'7" with curves that made his pulse quicken.
Her long hair cascaded down her back, and her figure was nothing short of stunning.
Her hips were full and alluring, and her chest… more than ample. It was ginormous!
He wasn't sure exactly how big, but right now, he couldn't care less about such details.
Because she was alive.
Without hesitation, he rushed toward her and wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her into a tight embrace.
"Mom!" His voice cracked, raw with emotion.
His mother stiffened in surprise.
"Jack? What's gotten into you today? Did something happen? Did you have a nightmare?"
She tried to turn around to look at him, but he wouldn't let go.
His grip was too firm, too desperate, as if he feared she would vanish if he loosened his hold.
Feeling the warmth of his body pressed against her back, she sighed softly and chose not to resist.
Instead, she placed a gentle hand over his arms, her voice laced with concern.
"It's okay, sweetie. Whatever it was, it's over now."
Jack didn't answer right away. He just held onto her, burying his face against her shoulder, his body trembling.
And then, the tears came. He sobbed—deep, gut-wrenching cries that shook him to his core.
His mother didn't say anything. She simply let him cry.
Jack wept for what felt like an eternity, his fingers gripping her as if anchoring himself to reality.
When he finally calmed down, he took a shaky breath, wiped his tear-streaked face, and whispered, "Yeah… it was a nightmare, Mom."
She stroked his arm reassuringly. "A nightmare? What happened?"
"I dreamed… I lost all of you in a car accident."
His voice was barely audible, but the weight of his words made her tense slightly.
And the worst part was… it wasn't just a dream.
It had happened before.
In his previous life, Jack had been a wreck.
He had once been a promising student, full of potential, but everything had crumbled when his girlfriend betrayed him.
She had left him for another guy, and the pain of that heartbreak had sent him spiraling into darkness.
He drowned his sorrows in alcohol, numbing himself with bad friends and even worse choices.
It started with drinks, then drugs, then gambling—one vice leading to another until he was barely recognizable.
He had become the very thing he swore he never would be: a worthless drunk, a disappointment, a failure.
But the worst mistake he had ever made—the one that haunted him the most—was the night he ran away from home.
He had been high, angry, lost in self-pity.
His parents and sisters had worried sick, searching the city for him, refusing to give up even when it was dangerous.
That night, fate played its cruelest hand.
They had been in a car accident while looking for him.
A drunk driver, an intersection, a moment of bad luck—whatever it was, it didn't matter.
His family had been taken from him in an instant, all because of his selfishness.
Jack had never forgiven himself.
He spent years drowning in grief, spiraling further into the abyss until he had nothing left.
No money, no home, no dignity. He became just another homeless man on the streets, drinking himself to death, waiting for the end to claim him.
But now… now he was here.
A second chance. A miracle.
This time, he wouldn't waste it.
This time, he wouldn't let history repeat itself.
Jack took a deep breath and loosened his grip, though he still held onto his mother gently, as if reassuring himself that she was real.
He could feel the warmth of her body, the steady rise and fall of her breath. She was here.
She was alive.
He wouldn't let fate take her from him again.
"I love you, Mom," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
His mother chuckled softly, turning slightly in his arms.
"Well, that's unexpected. I love you too, sweetheart. But really, what's gotten into you today?"
Jack pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his lips curving into a small, determined smile.
"Nothing, Mom. I just… realized how much I've taken you for granted."
Her expression softened. She reached up, brushing his messy hair from his face.
"You're a strange boy sometimes, Jack. But you're my boy."
And this time, he wouldn't let anything take her away from him.
Jack smiled, about to speak, when something caught his eye—something so shocking it left him utterly speechless.