Not everyone gets what they want. Even those who seem to have everything often aren't happy. Humans are strange that way—they always crave what they don't have and rarely appreciate what is right in front of them.
The sky was burning red, painted by fire and smoke. Chaos ruled the city below. Ray stood on top of a building that was barely standing while everything around was reduced to rubble and flames. Everywhere he looked, destruction covered the land—broken glass, shattered walls, and the echo of lives lost.
Ray took a slow drag from his cigarette, eyes lost in the red sky. He let out a heavy sigh. "So, what was the point of earning all that money?" he muttered. "If this was how it would end, maybe I should have listened to my grandfather's advice. I regret it now."
He glanced over the ruined city again, feeling the weight of his choices press down on him. Just then, a strange presence appeared. A figure in a black cloak hovered above the ground, its face hidden in shadow. The sight was both unnatural and oddly familiar.
The entity spoke, its voice echoing in the empty chaos. "You ignored my offer, and this is the outcome. You should have listened to me back then."
A flickering, glowing screen appeared in front of Ray with only two options: yes or no. There was no question—just the silent challenge, demanding a choice.
"You still have a choice," the entity said. "Will you press yes, or no? It's up to you."
Ray shot a tired look at the entity. "G, do you really think I'd say yes now? I have nothing left, nothing to care about. My answer hasn't changed." He pressed 'no' without hesitation.
For a moment, the world seemed to freeze. The entity's shadow rippled, growing larger. "I didn't expect this, Ray. Of all the people I've met, you're the only one who refused me—even after all this suffering, you still won't change your mind. I respect that. But now, not even I can control your fate."
Suddenly, the entity's form swelled, swirling and stretching until the darkness swallowed Ray whole. As he was pulled into the void, Ray thought about everything he'd lost. His mind replayed every regret, every choice that led him here, and he understood, at last, that there would be no changing his fate.
Ray felt himself sinking deeper and deeper into the darkness. It was cold, silent, and endless. There shouldn't have been anything there—no sound, no light, no life. But suddenly, somewhere ahead of him, a faint glow flickered in the black void. A light.
Ray frowned, confused. "A light? Here?" he whispered to himself. He had nothing left to lose. If this was how he was going to die, he might as well see what it was. With that thought, he began moving toward it. Each step—or maybe it was a drift—brought him closer. The light grew brighter, warmer, pulling him in like it wanted him there.
He reached out his hand. Just a little more. Almost there.
When his fingers finally touched the light, everything spun. The darkness around him rippled as if the void itself reacted to his touch.
Far away, the dark entity floated silently, deep in thought. It had been watching the aftermath of Ray's choice, but something felt wrong. When the entity reached out to sense Ray's presence again, it frowned—or whatever passed for a frown beneath that cloak.
"Huh? Where is he?" The entity looked around, glancing through the waves of darkness. "I can't… feel him? How is that possible?"
Then, before it could think further, a glowing screen appeared in front of it. Words flashed briefly, and the entity began to laugh. "Haha… unbelievable. What a lucky guy," it said, shaking its head. "Truly, I've never met anyone like him."
The entity paused, almost amused. "I guess we'll meet again, Ray," it whispered.
The screen vanished. The entity's form blurred and then disappeared into the dark, leaving only silence—and somewhere, very far away, the faint glow of a light lingering in the void.
The room was small but packed with everything a person needed to live alone. A narrow shelf stood by the wall, cluttered with books and random items. Near the corner was a small sink filled with a few unwashed dishes. A single bed took up most of the space, next to a modest refrigerator, a flickering television, and a computer that hummed quietly in standby mode.
It looked like the kind of place where someone lived without really living—someone who stayed inside, day after day, avoiding the world outside.
On the bed, a man lay still. His breathing was slow, steady—until it wasn't. It quickened suddenly, his chest rising and falling in panic. Then, with a sharp gasp, he sat up and took in a deep breath as though waking from a nightmare.
As the faint light from the television flickered across his face, we could see him clearly—it was Ray. But not the Ray who had stood atop the ruins. This Ray was younger, maybe nineteen.
Ray looked around the room, confused. His head ached faintly, like a memory trying to force its way out. "How… how is this possible?" he thought, staring at his hands. "I clearly died. I remember the darkness, that entity, the light… So how am I back here?"
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed his temples, scanning the room again. Everything looked familiar but slightly off. The posters, the old computer, even the smell of dust—everything screamed of a past life.
"This… this is my room," he muttered slowly. "From when I was nineteen."
Realization hit him like a shock. "Did I... come back in time? What's happening?"
He tried to calm his breathing, but his heart wouldn't settle. Confusion and disbelief swirled in his mind as he stood up and looked at his reflection in the mirror across the room. The young face staring back at him wasn't the one he'd seen in years.
"What did that light do to me?" Ray whispered.