Mark gasped.Not a breath of the dead, but of the living.His lungs burned as he lurched forward, fingers clutching at soft fabric—sheets. He was in a bed. Not the void. Not the shattered battlefield where he had died.A room.Sunlight streamed through a half-open window, a gentle breeze rustling the curtains. The scent of fresh air filled his nose, mixed with something familiar—wood, ink, and old electronics.His mind spun.The gods. The laughter. The power surging through him. And then—nothing.Slowly, he looked down at his hands. They were smaller. Younger. His skin was unscarred, unmarked by the battles he had fought.Heart pounding, he stumbled out of bed and turned to the mirror.A face stared back.His face.But not the hardened warrior he had become. Not the man betrayed and left to die.This was the face of his past self.Fifteen years younger.His breath hitched. His hands trembled. It wasn't a dream.He had gone back.The gods hadn't just given him power. They had thrown him into the past.The realization sent a shiver down his spine.He still remembered everything. Every betrayal. Every battle. Every secret that had been lost with time.A slow, dark smile spread across his lips.This time, he would not be the fool who trusted the wrong people. This time, he would seize power before it was stolen from him.And this time, when the gods watched—He would give them a show worthy of legends.---Mark sat on the edge of the bed, forcing his breathing to steady. He reached out, pressing a hand against the wooden nightstand. Solid. Real. His senses were sharper than he remembered from his youth, perhaps a lingering effect of the divine intervention. He flexed his fingers, feeling the strength in them. He wasn't as strong as he had been at his peak, but he had muscle memory. That, combined with knowledge of future events, gave him an advantage no one else had.Closing his eyes, he forced himself to recall the past. The faces of his so-called allies who had betrayed him. The strategies that had failed. The battles lost. And the moments where a single choice could have changed everything.Regret twisted in his gut, but he let it fuel him. He had been given a gift. A second chance.But how far back had he gone?He scanned the room, noting the familiar layout. This was his old apartment from his university days. The posters on the wall, the books stacked on his desk, the outdated phone lying next to his pillow. He grabbed it, pressing the power button. The screen lit up, displaying the date.Fifteen years ago.He let out a slow exhale. Fifteen years was a long time. Enough time to change everything.He had to move fast.Mark stood and began taking stock of his situation. His old notebooks contained scraps of ideas, strategies he had toyed with but never fully implemented. Now, with future knowledge, they would be weapons. He flipped through them, his mind racing.First, he needed money. Resources were essential. He knew which stocks would soar, which businesses would rise and fall. A few well-placed investments could make him a fortune in months. But that was just the start.Power was the real goal.He recalled the people who had shaped the world—the ones who had manipulated him into fighting their battles, only to discard him when he was no longer useful. This time, he would turn the tables.His enemies didn't know he was coming.Mark smirked, stretching his arms. He had work to do.---The first step was testing his limits. He stood in the center of the room, focusing inward. He clenched his fists, willing something—anything—to happen. But there was nothing. No heat, no energy, no divine power lingering in his veins.He frowned. The gods had sent him back, but they hadn't granted him real power.He was just a man.A man armed with knowledge.And sometimes, knowledge was the greatest weapon of all.A knock at the door startled him. His body reacted on instinct, dropping into a defensive stance before he realized how ridiculous it was."Mark! Are you up?"The voice was achingly familiar. He hesitated before responding."Yeah," he said, forcing his voice to remain steady.The door opened, and his best friend from the past, Alex, stepped in. Seeing him alive again sent a wave of emotion crashing over Mark. Alex had been one of the few true friends he had in his old life—before fate tore them apart."Damn, you look like you saw a ghost," Alex said, raising an eyebrow. "You okay?"Mark forced a grin. "Just had a weird dream."Alex snorted. "Well, get your ass ready. We have class in an hour."Class.Mark had almost forgotten what it was like to be a student. He had been so consumed with war and survival in his last life that the idea of sitting through lectures felt foreign. But this was an opportunity. His university years had been a critical turning point. This time, he wouldn't waste them.He nodded. "Give me ten minutes."As Alex left, Mark turned back to the mirror. His younger self stared back at him.A new life. A new chance.And a promise to himself.This time, he would not just survive.He would rule.
Game will launch in 10 days. Mortal Online. A world of endless possibilities, where warriors carve their names into history, alliances are forged and broken, and power is seized by those strong enough to claim it. Mark had played it before, seen its rise and fall. This time, he would be more than a player—he would be a legend.
Mark took a deep breath as he grabbed his backpack, feeling the weight of the past pressing against his present. College. The word felt almost foreign after everything he had been through. In his last life, these halls had been nothing more than a brief stop before the real world swallowed him whole. But now, they were his starting point.
As he stepped out of his apartment, the familiar scent of morning dew mixed with the distant aroma of coffee from the campus cafe. Students passed by in groups, chatting, laughing, living in the moment. It was surreal. Just yesterday—or rather, fifteen years from now—he had been locked in brutal battles, betrayed by those he trusted, clawing for survival. Now, he was just another college student walking to class.
Alex walked beside him, rambling about some project he had put off until the last minute. Mark barely listened, nodding at the right moments, still processing his reality. He kept glancing at the students around him, half-expecting to see someone from his past who had once shaped his future. Were they here now? Were they different? Did they still have time before fate twisted their paths?
They arrived at the main lecture hall, a towering building of glass and brick. Mark stared up at it, his pulse steady. He remembered this place vividly. The lectures, the professors, the late-night cramming sessions. He had squandered so much time here, unaware of the storm that would come years later. This time, he wouldn't waste a second.
The classroom was already half full when they entered. Mark's eyes swept across the room, analyzing, assessing. He recognized some faces—people who had once been insignificant in his life but now held potential value. That quiet girl in the corner? She would go on to develop cutting-edge AI technology. That guy at the front? He would launch a billion-dollar startup in a few years. Last time, he had ignored them. This time, he would build connections.
Alex flopped into a chair near the middle row, and Mark followed, taking a seat beside him. The professor, a man with graying hair and a perpetually tired expression, strode in moments later and began setting up his slides.
"First class of the semester," Alex muttered, pulling out his notebook. "Let's see how long before I fall asleep."
Mark smirked but said nothing. The lecture began, and while most students drifted in and out of attention, he absorbed every word. Knowledge wasn't just power; it was a weapon. If he played this right, he could carve out a future where he wasn't just a survivor, but a king.
About halfway through the lecture, the professor's gaze snapped to Alex, who had been doodling absentmindedly instead of taking notes.
"Mr. Alex, since you seem so engaged, perhaps you'd like to summarize the last five minutes?" the professor asked, his tone sharp.
Alex's eyes widened in panic as he glanced at Mark for help, but Mark simply watched, bemused.
"Uh… something about… systems?" Alex guessed, rubbing the back of his neck.
The professor sighed. "Perhaps if you paid attention instead of drawing, you'd know. See me after class."
The room chuckled, and Alex groaned, slumping in his seat. Mark shook his head. Some things never changed.
As the lecture wrapped up, Mark leaned back in his seat, thoughtful. The past was a roadmap, and he had the advantage of hindsight. The question was, how soon should he start making his moves? He had nine days before the game launched. Nine days to set things in motion.
A familiar voice jolted him from his thoughts.
"Hey, Mark, you alright?"
He turned to see Sophie, an old acquaintance—someone who had once played a role in his downfall. His stomach twisted at the memory.
"I'm fine," he said, forcing a neutral expression. "Just… thinking."
She smiled, but Mark no longer trusted that smile. Not after what she had done in his past life. This time, he would stay one step ahead.
As they left the lecture hall, Mark knew one thing for certain—he wouldn't let history repeat itself. Not for him. Not for anyone who had betrayed him.
This time, he was going to win.
As they walked toward the courtyard, Alex suddenly grabbed Mark's arm, pulling him to a stop. His face was flushed with frustration.
"Dude, what the hell?" Alex demanded. "Why didn't you help me back there?"
Mark raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "Help you? You weren't paying attention."
Alex scoffed. "Yeah, and? That's never stopped you before! You could've thrown me a hint or something!"
Mark shrugged. "Maybe it's time you start paying attention for yourself."
Alex frowned, searching Mark's face for the usual easygoing response, but found something different instead. Something calculating. Mark wasn't the same guy he remembered.
"Seriously, what's up with you today?" Alex muttered.
Mark simply smirked. "Just thinking ahead."
Alex rolled his eyes but let it go. "Whatever, man. Next time, at least give me a nudge."
Mark chuckled. "No promises."
They went to afternoon class again.
Mark thinks about his friends Liam
and alex will they betray him for money or can trust in mortal online so he thinking to use sophie for clearing Moles before game begins