VIRTUAL WORLD (Battle of the past)

"Sky, wake up! You're already late," his mom called out, her voice filled with urgency. Sky groaned and rubbed his eyes, struggling to shake off the sleepiness. He glanced at the clock on his bedside table and groaned even louder. "It's already 8:30? Ugh, I overslept again." Reluctantly, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, but his laziness got the better of him. He let out a yawn and smacked his lips, trying to wake himself up. Mornings were always a struggle for him. "I'm not going to the office today," he mumbled to himself as he dragged himself towards the bathroom. Just then, the sound of a radio filled the apartment, signaling the beginning of his day. This daily routine felt monotonous, and he longed for something more exciting. After quickly downing a cup of hot coffee, Sky made his way back to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Once done, he returned to his room and settled into his old gaming chair in front of his desktop computer. Gaming was his escape, a way to immerse himself in a beautiful world that contrasted the dull reality around him. His favorite game, Reborn Battle, created by Pixel Gaming, was highly anticipated and boasted an advanced system called BrainIcon. Despite warnings from officials in 2031, cautioning against playing the game, it became immensely popular. The game had been deleted from official downloading websites, but many still sought ways to play it. Sky had defied the local government's orders to delete the game and still had it installed on his PC. As he switched on his computer, the Reborn Battle live broadcast immediately caught his attention, without him even touching the cursor. His mind started to wander. The date on the live broadcast was May 5th, 2031. Sky rubbed his eyes in confusion and looked at the screen again. His headache intensified, and his heart pounded as he realized something was amiss. When he fell asleep the previous day, it had been May 3rd, 2035. How could time have moved backward? He glanced around his apartment, noticing scattered beer bottles on the floor, adding to his disorientation. "What year is it?" Sky asked himself, feeling a mix of anxiety and disbelief. He searched for a calendar and found one on the wall, confirming that it was indeed 2035. "Damn," he whispered, relieved that the date had returned to normal. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing mind, when suddenly the phone on his table started ringing, startling him once again. "What the hell is going on?" he muttered, his confusion mounting. With a slight shake of his head, he left the ringing phone in his room, choosing to address it later. He needed to clear his thoughts. As he opened the door, the strong rays of the sun blinded him momentarily, making him squint. The sight that greeted him outside was unsettling—papers were strewn across the road, and the previously orderly surroundings had transformed into chaos. Sky grasped his head, feeling the dizziness return, but he pushed through and continued walking, leaving his apartment behind. Sky wiped his eyes once again, feeling as if he were intoxicated. Unaware, he found himself crossing the road without realizing a truck was speeding towards him. In a split second, he realized the danger, but it was too late. He couldn't believe this was how his life would end. …. As the morning light filtered through the curtains, Sky reluctantly opened his eyes, greeted by his mother's urgent voice. "Sky, open your eyes. You're already late," she said, a hint of frustration in her tone. Groaning, Sky muttered, "Ugh, what time is it..." He slowly rose from his disheveled bed, a sense of déjà vu washing over him. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had experienced this before. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he surveyed the room, taking in the familiar sight of his old college haven. Memories of the chaotic and lifeless state of his room during those days flooded his mind, contrasting sharply with the present moment. Consciousness returned to him in a rush, and he realized the significance of the date: May 5th, 2031. It dawned on him that he had somehow been transported back in time. Sensations coursed through his body, highlighting the differences between his past and present self. His attention was drawn to his PC, which suddenly sprang to life, looking brand new as it did when they first bought it. It struck him that this was the exact date when Reborn Battle was released, the game that had once consumed him with passion. Gaming had been his true calling during his college years, but he had reluctantly chosen a mundane university path to appease his mother's expectations, stifling his dreams in the process. Sky had excelled in Reborn Battle, becoming one of the top players in the latest version known as "Hunting the Demons." However, as he delved deeper into the game, he grew increasingly detached from reality, leading to a series of failures and a downward spiral into self-destructive habits. He had sought solace in the online world and resorted to drinking beer purchased from vending machines, transforming into a sad and isolated version of himself. Leaving his room barefoot, Sky made his way to the old living room, where he instinctively turned on the aging flat-screen TV. The news was still buzzing with discussions about Reborn Battle, a groundbreaking reality game that immersed players in a virtual world, allowing them to experience every sensation without real-life consequences. Sky's prowess in the game had been legendary. His chosen hero possessed a skill that reached threateningly new levels. Known as "Hypno-Control," it combined hypnotism and control, allowing him to manipulate an opponent's five senses completely. Victims would be deceived, misinterpreting sights, sounds, tastes, touch, and smells, even when they were aware of the hypnosis. It was a power perfectly suited for a skilled player like Sky. Accompanying his hero's abilities was a long, sharp sword, an essential weapon in his virtual battles. Just as Sky's attention was fully consumed by the virtual world on the television screen, his phone buzzed in his pocket, jolting him back to reality. He swiftly retrieved it, recognizing the caller as Winter, a friend he hadn't spoken to since their graduation, when Sky's depression had driven them apart. With trepidation, he answered the call. "Hello?" His voice carried a roughness, tainted by disbelief. "Hello? Sky... what took you so long?" The familiarity in Winter's voice instantly struck a chord within him. "Winter?" Sky's voice wavered, struggling to grasp the enormity of the situation. "Yes, Sky? It's me," Winter confirmed, the warmth of friendship seeping through the connection. Sky remained silent for a few moments, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within him. He couldn't believe what was unfolding. Absent-mindedly, he reached up and touched his face, finding no trace of the mustache he once had. "Sky?" Winter's voice echoed through the phone. "Yes, yes, Winter, I'm still here," Sky replied, his voice tinged with disbelief. He couldn't help but pinch himself, just to ensure he wasn't dreaming. As he looked at his hand while holding the phone, he noticed a stark difference. Unlike before, there was no large scar on his hand, a reminder of the accident he had endured. The realization hit him—this was a fresh start, a chance to rewrite his story. Winter sensed his strange demeanor and inquired, "Okay... you're acting strange, Sky. What's happened?" Walking toward a wall adorned with a picture of Winter and his old group of friends, Sky gently plucked one of the photographs. The image captured a time when they were complete and full of life, evoking a bittersweet nostalgia. "No, Winter, everything is fine," he assured her, a surge of joy flooding his heart. "Are you sure?" Winter probed, concern evident in her voice. "Yes, definitely," Sky responded, his voice carrying newfound determination. "O-okay. Anyway, I called to remind you not to forget about our first date this evening," Winter reminded him, and the memories of their past resurfaced. He recalled the exact moment when he had blown her off five years ago, choosing to isolate himself at home instead. In Sky's mind, history would not repeat itself. "I wouldn't miss it for anything." "Okay, good." As the weight of the conversation settled, Sky blurted out, "I love you." There was a momentary silence, and he feared she had ended the call. But then, a short gasp escaped through the phone's speaker. "I love you too, Sky. See you later, bye..." Winter's voice carried a mix of surprise and delight before the call ended. Sky walked back to the living room and sank into the comfort of the couch. He couldn't help but feel like the luckiest man on earth. A second chance at life lay before him, free from the messiness of his past. Every bad decision, every terrible choice, he believed they could all be corrected. His mind raced, attempting to piece together the events of 2031, the last year of his college life. He glanced at his phone, the date flashing—May 5th, 2031. It was the day he had first immersed himself in the world of Reborn Battle, back when he was just a 21-year-old. That was the turning point when he had grown cold toward Winter and forgotten their first date, ultimately leading to her departure. Those were the dark times when he drowned in his grief. His death in the future had been his own doing, his own fault. But now, he had been reborn, granted an extraordinary opportunity to set things right. He didn't know why, who, or what had sent him back in time, but Sky was resolute in his mission to rectify every mistake, to make amends for every poor choice. It would start with the dinner date, a chance to rebuild the foundation of his relationship with the love of his life—Winter. With renewed purpose, Sky felt the weight of his past lifting off his shoulders. The road ahead would not be easy, but he was determined to seize this second chance and create a future filled with love, redemption, and the fulfillment of his deepest desires.