Darkness. Endless, suffocating darkness.
Then—agony.
A searing heat tore through his body, as if he were being consumed from the inside out. His bones cracked, his flesh burned, and his mind shattered into a thousand jagged pieces. He was dying. Again.
No. Not again.
A memory surged through him—the last thing he saw before death. The world, collapsing under waves of cosmic energy. Cities crumbling. Skies torn apart. The screams of those who had no power to resist. The beasts, the twisted monstrosities that once were human, rampaging through the ruins. And him—standing at the peak of power, yet too late to change anything.
The Energy Universe had devoured his world.
And then—nothingness.
But now, the pain was fading. Something else was happening. His body felt... whole. His consciousness reformed. The weight of death lifted, replaced by something sharper, clearer. He was alive.
His eyes snapped open.
Light. Familiar yet foreign. A ceiling he recognized—his old apartment. The scent of stale air, the distant hum of traffic. His fingers trembled as he touched his own chest. No wounds. No scars. No signs of battle or the horrors he had endured.
His breath hitched. He was back.
His mind raced, grasping for an anchor in time. He lunged toward the bedside table, yanking open the drawer. A phone. His hands shook as he powered it on, the screen flashing to life.
[Date: Two years before the collision.]
A sharp exhale. It's real.
Adrenaline flooded his veins. Two years. Two years before the Energy Universe crashed into this world. Two years before 80% of life was erased. Two years to prepare.
He gritted his teeth. This time, he wouldn't waste a second. He knew what was coming. The underground organizations, the war between nations, the emergence of the first awakened. The chaos. The slaughter.
And above all—he knew how to win.
His fists clenched, and for the first time since waking, he reached inward, searching for the power that had defined his past life. Space Manipulation. Would it still be there?
He exhaled slowly and focused.
The air around him shimmered. The space between his fingers wavered like ripples on a lake. It was still his.
A smirk curled at the corner of his lips. Perfect.
The future was no longer set in stone. This time, he would carve his own path. And he would stand at the top.
He sat up, taking slow, measured breaths. His body felt lighter, stronger, more attuned to the energy coursing beneath his skin. The memories of his past life were still vivid, burning behind his eyes like an unquenchable flame. He could recall every mistake, every failure, every moment where he had hesitated—and he swore he wouldn't make them again.
He threw the blankets aside and stood, his muscles tensing as if testing their strength. He flexed his fingers and watched the air around them distort slightly. His control over space was still intact, but he needed to test its limits.
Steadying his breathing, he focused on the desk across the room. The wooden surface seemed to blur, warping slightly. He extended his hand, pulling at the fabric of reality itself. The desk shifted, moving a fraction of an inch closer without making a sound.
A slow grin spread across his face. Still got it.
The first order of business was clear—establishing a foundation. His past life had taught him that power alone wasn't enough. Resources, allies, and a secure base were essential. He had two years before the Energy Universe's impact, but the real battle for survival would start much sooner.
His mind raced through possible strategies. Black market connections, underground organizations, abandoned military bunkers... He needed to move quickly.
But first, he had to confirm something else—his physical condition.
With a quick step, he crossed the room and dropped into a low stance. A sharp jab punched through the air, followed by a swift kick that sent the chair skidding across the floor. His body felt stronger, faster. It wasn't just his powers—his very being had been refined. The energy that had consumed him in death had done more than just return him to life.
It had made him more.
He glanced at the mirror. His reflection was eerily familiar yet... different. His features were sharper, his eyes more intense. He clenched his fist, the muscles in his arm coiling with restrained force. If he was this powerful now, how far could he push himself in the next two years?
A knock at the door snapped him from his thoughts. His heart pounded. No one should be visiting him at this hour.
He reached out with his spatial awareness, feeling the presence beyond the door. A single person. Not hostile—yet. Time to see who had come looking for him so soon.