"Leonard! Leonard!"
The loud roar of his name crashed into his ears like a siren. That voice—sharp, nagging, impossible to ignore—belonged to none other than Madam Tracy, his boss. A thick, round-faced woman in her late forties, she looked like a puffed-up couch stuffed into a tight dress. Her angry voice was the one sound in the world that grated on Leonard's nerves more than anything else.
"You piece of shit! You Mongoose! Idiot douchebag!" she screamed, her voice shaking the office walls. "You spend your nights playing with your damn cock, and now you come here and sleep like a lazy dog? Wake up, you asshole! Your colleagues are working their asses off, and you're here snoring on duty? Where the hell is that report I asked for?"
Leonard blinked, slowly opening his eyes. Her shouting was unbearable, but something felt… off.
Then it hit him.
"Oh fuck," he muttered as he sat up, his voice unusually loud.
"I'm alive?" he said again, louder this time, his own voice unfamiliar in his ears. People knew him as the quiet type—low profile, almost invisible—but now he was shouting like a madman. His eyes darted to the screen in front of him. The date glared back at him:
12 February 2024.
If he hadn't just lived through it, he wouldn't believe it himself.
He had died—choked to death.
By his own damn neighbor.
And the worst part?
That bastard was balls-deep in his girlfriend while he was hanging in the air, caught like a fly in a spider's web. Leonard still remembered the look on the guy's face as he climaxed—right before tightening his grip and snapping Leonard's neck like a twig. It was painful. Disgusting. A death that no one should ever have to experience.
But here he was. Alive. Breathing. Back in time—three months before the apocalypse.
He shot up from his chair, filled with adrenaline and disbelief. Without thinking, he jumped forward and wrapped his arms—and legs—around Madam Tracy like an overgrown koala.
She caught him. Surprisingly, she didn't even stagger. He wasn't that heavy, to be fair.
Then, in a rush of overwhelming emotion, he grabbed her chubby face and kissed her hard.
Her entire face turned red.
The office froze.
One guy choked on his coffee, and Madam Tracy's assistant fumbled her stack of papers, sending them fluttering to the floor.
Another woman standing nearby gaped so wide, someone accidentally shoved a file into her mouth.
Dozens of eyes locked on him in stunned silence.
And just like that, Leonard snapped back to his senses. He slowly slid off Madam Tracy's massive frame and bowed repeatedly.
"Sorry ma. Sorry ma. Sorry ma," he chanted like a broken alarm bell.
She blinked, touching her lips, then suddenly turned on the rest of the office.
"What the hell are you all staring at, you useless fools? Get back to work!" she snapped.
Then, without looking at anyone else, she faced Leonard again. Her voice dropped into something unexpectedly soft.
"Meet me in my office," she said, her tone almost sweet.
Her face was still blushing as she walked off, heels clicking across the polished office floor.
Meanwhile, Leonard's heart was racing.
He had been given another chance. A second shot to rewrite his fate. And he already knew what he had to do.
No, it wasn't hoarding food or stacking weapons like those doomsday preppers. That was child's play.
His real goal? To become a supe.
That's what they called them—humans who got powers after the meteor rocks fell.
In his past life, he didn't have any powers. Just another weak, powerless human. And because of that, he couldn't protect himself. He died three months into the chaos.
This time, things would be different.
To gain powers, he had to do the unthinkable.
He had to become friends with the same bastard who killed him.
In the apocalypse, powers were everything.
Food? You could get it with powers.
Money? Worthless. Fame? Useless.
Only powers decided who lived or died.
There were supes, sure—but also freaks, humans and animals twisted by the meteor's energy. Some got powers. Some turned into monsters. Others were unlucky enough to get both and ended up mutated beyond reason.
The world became a nightmare.
And now, Leonard had a second chance to survive it.
He quickly dialed Tony's number. His fingers trembled slightly as he pressed the last digit. The phone rang once, twice—
Tony's voice came through, dripping with fake cheer. "Leo? Wow, didn't expect you to call." A pause. "Unless… Sarah's there with you?"
The moment Leonard heard him, a wave of bitter memories hit him. Memories he'd tried to bury for now.
That scumbag.
Tony had been eyeing Sarah since the first day Leonard brought her home. Always smiling, always pretending to be friendly. But Leonard knew better. Behind that plain face and cheap cologne, Tony was nothing but a snake.
Tony was his next-door neighbor. Just a regular-looking guy—average height, dark brown skin, slightly crooked teeth, always in worn-out jeans and a tank top no matter the weather. They were basically on the same level in life. Both broke. Both struggling. But for some reason, Tony walked around like he was God's gift to women.
He actually believed he could take better care of Sarah than Leonard could.
And the worst part?
The dirty bitch Leonard thought loved him—Sarah—fed Tony's ego behind his back. She told Leonard Tony had been making moves on her, but she always turned him down. Like a dumbass, Leonard believed her.
What he didn't know was that behind closed doors, she was telling Tony a whole different story.
"She's only with me," she told Tony, "because I pay her bills… and I'm good at drilling her holes."
She even said if Tony wanted her, all he had to do was get her a new apartment and a car. That was it. That was the line Leonard couldn't cross—the two things he just couldn't afford at once.
That's when he knew. He'd spent his whole savings trying to please a woman who saw him as nothing more than a walking ATM with a decent dick.
Leonard was only in his late twenties. Slim, fair-skinned, with sharp cheekbones, soft pink lips, and thick lashes that made girls do double-takes. Even had a streak of white in his hair that made him look like some anime heartthrob. Yeah, he was the full package on the outside.
But one thing ruined everything—
He was shy as hell.
Couldn't even confess his feelings to a girl. If a pretty one stared too long, he'd look down and apologize for looking back.
Yeah, he was that awkward.
It was Sarah who made the first move. She approached him the night he walked into the bar she worked at, smiling like she already owned him. He was nervous, unsure. But she took charge, and just like that, he was hooked.
She became the center of his world. His treasure. His everything.
Until the apocalypse came… and he saw her true colors.
That's when he learned the truth.
Never trust a woman blindly.
Especially not in a world where love costs more than survival.
Tony's voice dragged him out of his thoughts like a slap to the face.
Leonard leaned back against his office chair, his fingers tightening around the phone. "Thought maybe we could grab a drink this evening. If you don't mind."
Tony went quiet. Just as expected. Of course he'd be surprised—Leonard had spent months avoiding him, ever since Tony started eyeing Sarah like she was up for auction.
Tony's voice finally came back, shameless as ever. "Will Sarah be joining us too?"
Leonard swallowed the disgust crawling up his throat. "Yeah," he lied smoothly. "She'll be there."
"All right then," Tony said. "I'll certainly be available."
"Cool," Leonard replied, and hung up.
He stared at his screen for a moment, jaw clenching. Anyone might ask—why the hell did he need him, of all people?
Simple.
Becoming a supe was a total gamble. He was risking everything to take the chance—and Tony… Tony got lucky.
Right place, right time. One of the first to awaken after the meteor crash. Not by skill, not by brains—just plain damn luck.
How it happened? That's a story for another time.
Right now, Leonard had something more important to fix.
Valentine's Day was just around the corner. February 14th. And like the dickhead he used to be, he'd already pre-ordered a car for Sarah.
Yeah. The same girl who told Tony he was only good for paying bills and "drilling her holes."
That car was supposed to be a surprise. But now he knew better. She didn't deserve a new ride—she didn't even deserve a ride on his back, let alone his wallet.
That money? It could buy him supplies, weapons, shelter—hell, maybe even buy his way into the plane that had the first contact with the meteor rocks.
Leonard grabbed his keys and stormed out of the office. That order needed to be cancelled now.
Just then, a news pop-up blinked on his computer. The headline read:
"UNCONFIRMED REPORTS OF METEOR SHOWER OVER PACIFIC."
He had barely noticed it last time. But now, it sent a chill down his spine.
The next meteor shower was in one week. And he must become a supe by then.