Sunlight poured through the half-open window spreading a warm glow across the simple room. Dust motes danced in the golden beams. The light revealed plain walls a neatly made bed with a blue blanket and a small wooden desk tucked into a corner. Everything was clean but showed the wear of long use.
On the bed a young man slept peacefully. His brown hair fell across his pale forehead and his breathing was slow and even. He wore a rumpled shirt and comfortable pants the clothes from the day before.
Suddenly his eyes snapped open. Peace shattered into immediate confusion and panic. He shot upright gasping for air like a man surfacing from a nightmare. His frantic gaze darted around the room. He lifted his shaking hands turning them over. They were smooth and young not the hands he remembered.
"I'm okay," he whispered his voice trembling with disbelief. "How is this possible?" He shook his head trying to clear the fog.
His eyes swept the room again taking in the neat desk the old rug the spot of peeling paint. It was undeniably his childhood room a place he had not lived in for many years. Nausea hit him. This was wrong. His mind raced grasping for the last thing he knew. There was pain and bright lights and the clinical chaos of a hospital.
"Why am I at my parents' house?" he whispered. The unspoken alternative death was a cold dread in his gut. "I should be in the hospital." But there was no pain no machines. He was just here in his old bed.
He swung his legs over the side. His bare feet met the cold wood floor. The sensation grounded him yet the strangeness intensified. His body felt lighter stronger an echo of his early twenties. He stood and turned instinctively toward the tall simple mirror on the wall. A flicker of movement caught his eye. The sight stole his breath.
He whipped around and his hands flew to his face tracing his jaw and his cheeks. He leaned in staring hard at the reflection. The face was his but it was a version he had not seen in a decade.
"How am I this young?" he breathed. The man in the mirror was him from ten years prior. His skin was smooth. The fine lines etched by time and worry were gone.
His gaze fell upon his old computer its bulky case a relic from his teenage years. Seeing it combined with his reflection and the familiar room sent a jolt through him. The impossible thought crystallized.
He rushed to the desk and his shaking hands grabbed his old phone. The device felt solid a tangible link to this displaced reality. He pressed the power button and his breath held.
The screen flickered to life. The date displayed in stark digital clarity January 1 2025.
He was not in 2035.
"I'm ten years in the past," he whispered the words a mix of shock and awe. His mind spun flooded with memories of the next decade a future now unwritten. He recalled his mistakes his missed chances.
His eyes fixed on the computer remembering one pivotal disastrous choice deleting his Row Online account.
He had done it in early 2025 convinced he needed to abandon childish things for his upcoming studies at National University. It was a gesture of maturity.
He knew now it was the greatest blunder of his life. Just two months later in March 2025 Row Online released a revolutionary update with a full-dive VR-Set.
The game exploded. Its player base swelled from millions to billions. It transcended entertainment becoming a global economic force where in-game currency held real-world value.
The regret of his decision had haunted him for years as he watched others build fortunes from the game he abandoned.
Adam moved to the desk and sat. The chair emitted a familiar creak. He took a steadying breath and pressed the computer's power button. The machine whirred to life.
There on the desktop was the Row Online icon.
He clicked it his hand trembling. The familiar login screen and music washed over him a painful reminder of his past failure. A knot of dread formed in his stomach. Had he already deleted it in this timeline?
His fingers flew across the keyboard typing a username and password he thought long forgotten. After an agonizingly slow verification the welcome page loaded. His character's name. His level. His in-game currency. The account was intact.
A profound wave of relief washed over him. He leaned back and let out a shuddering breath. For the first time that day he smiled. This was his second chance.
Adam stared at the screen while the hum of the computer filled the silence. He remembered trying to return to the game two years from now after university.
He had saved up for a VR headset only to find a world transformed. The entry-level zones and resources were monopolized by massive guilds.
It was impossible for a new player to gain a foothold. The frustration of that failure had been a bitter pill.
"Nobody knows," he murmured his voice low and firm. "They think it's just a game." He knew better. It was the future of the global economy. This time he was at the starting line.
"Adam!" His mother's voice sharp with concern cut through his thoughts from downstairs. The sound was both a comfort and a sharp reminder of the financial hardships his past choices had inflicted on his parents. A heavy guilt settled on him.
He stood his expression hardening with resolve. This time would be different. When the new version launched in March he would dedicate himself entirely to the game. He would forsake his university plans. Nothing would deter him.
He went downstairs to the living room where his parents were preparing for his departure. His father Ricky paced by a coffee table studying a train ticket. Two suitcases stood packed by the sofa.
"Adam," Ricky said turning. "I've got your train ticket. It leaves this afternoon."
Adam offered a small smile. "Dad I want to go alone. You don't need to come with me."
Ricky paused surprised. "What? Why not? I took the day off. I can help you get settled."
"No Dad," Adam said his tone gentle but firm. "I need to do this myself. It's a new start."
His mother Rachel turned from the dining table her hands fidgeting nervously. "But Adam it's a new city. What if you get lost something happens?"
Before Adam could reply Ricky placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "Rach it's okay. Let him go." He faced Adam his eyes serious but supportive.
"Son if you have any trouble you call us. Immediately."
"I promise Dad. Thank you." Adam nodded relieved. He had to go alone. He had no intention of enrolling at the university.
He knew the future and a degree would be worthless compared to the opportunity before him.
He could not let his father discover his true plan. His gaze drifted to the suitcases. "That's a lot of stuff," he murmured looking at the packed remnants of a life he would not lead.
Rachel and Ricky exchanged a worried glance. Adam saw it and the guilt pricked him again. It only fueled his determination. This time he would succeed. He would do it not just for himself but for them.