TY hated mornings.
Not because he was lazy, but because mornings reminded him of everything he hadn't done. At twenty-two, he felt like life had started moving without him, leaving him standing on the sidewalk with unfinished dreams and unanswered questions.
He lay on his narrow bed in the tiny off-campus apartment, staring at the cracked ceiling as sunlight leaked through the thin curtains. His phone buzzed on the bedside table—another reminder notification he would ignore.
"Later," he muttered, rolling onto his side.
That was his favorite word.
Later.
Later to apply for that online business course.
Later to message the client who had once shown interest.
Later to take life seriously.
A soft scraping sound interrupted his thoughts.
He frowned.
It came again.
Scratch… slide.
TY sat up slowly. His heartbeat picked up.
The sound came from the front door.
He stood and walked cautiously across the tiled floor. The old wooden door had a thin gap at the bottom. As he reached it, something white slid inward and stopped against his foot.
A piece of paper.
He bent down and picked it up.
It was folded neatly into a small square.
His stomach tightened.
"Who drops paper notes in 2026?" he murmured.
He unfolded it.
The handwriting was sharp, dark, and deliberate.
YOU ARE RUNNING OUT OF TIME, TY.
GET UP. SHOWER. AND CHECK YOUR EMAIL.
— N
His breath caught.
He read it again.
And again.
"How does anyone know my name?" he whispered.
His apartment door hadn't opened.
He hadn't heard footsteps.
A chill crawled up his spine.
It had to be a prank.
Maybe one of his friends?
But none of his friends knew where he lived now.
He looked down the corridor outside his apartment. Empty.
Slowly, he shut the door and locked it.
His phone buzzed again.
This time, he picked it up.
An unread email.
From an address he didn't recognize.
Subject: Your First Chance
His fingers trembled as he opened it.
You've delayed your life long enough.
Today, you apply for the freelance listing you saved three weeks ago.
You will not skip this step.
If you do, you will regret it.
TY's mouth went dry.
Only one person knew about that listing.
Him.
He backed away from the door, his heart hammering violently.
"This isn't real… this isn't real…"
His eyes fell back to the note.
— N
Who was N?
And how did they know everything about him?
His phone vibrated again.
Another email.
You have 30 minutes.
Start moving, TY.
A sudden wave of panic washed over him.
For the first time in years…
He didn't ignore the message.