2026-01-25 18:11:54The room was dark, but Evan squinted against a bright, blue light. The light did not come from a lamp. It did not come from the moon outside his window.
The light came from inside his own eyes.
Evan sat on the edge of his bed. His hands shook. He grabbed a glass of water from the nightstand, but his fingers were too weak. The glass slipped. It hit the floor with a loud smash. Water soaked into the rug.
Evan did not look down. He could not look down. Floating in the air, right in front of his face, was a box made of light. It looked like a computer screen, but it was transparent. He tried to wave his hand through it. His fingers passed through the air, but the text remained.
SYSTEM INITIALIZED.
USER: EVAN KENNEDY.
STATUS: ACTIVE.
"Stop," Evan whispered. His voice was raspy. "What is this?"
The text changed instantly. It responded to his voice.
IDENTITY: PROTOTYPE DECISION ENGINE (UNFINISHED).
PURPOSE: RISK MANAGEMENT.
METHOD: BIOLOGICAL TIME HEDGING.
Evan read the words three times. They were simple words, but they made no sense together. "Biological time hedging?" he asked. "You mean... my life?"
The screen flashed green. A new window opened. It looked like a menu at a fast-food restaurant, but instead of burgers and fries, it listed actions and prices.
MENU: CALCULATE PROBABILITY
Description: See the chance of success for your next action.
Cost: 3 Hours of Life.
STABILIZE OUTCOME
Description: Remove random bad luck. Guarantee a fixed result.
Cost: 1 Specific Memory (Randomly Selected).
Evan stood up. His legs felt heavy, like they were made of lead. He walked to the mirror. The blue text followed him. It stayed in the center of his vision. In the mirror, he looked tired. There were dark circles under his eyes. He looked older than he did yesterday.
"You use my time," Evan said. He felt a cold shiver run down his spine. "To work, you burn my life away."
CORRECT, the System printed. WARNING: SYSTEM USE REDUCES TERMINAL LIFESPAN.
Evan laughed, but it was a dry, sad laugh. It was a battery. He was the battery. Every time he asked the System for help, he would die a little sooner. If he wanted to know if a girl liked him, it might cost him three hours. If he wanted to win a lottery ticket, it might cost him a week.
"And the memories?" Evan asked. "If I want to force something to happen?"
MEMORY DELETION IS PERMANENT. TO SECURE FUTURE, PAST MUST BE ERASED.
It was a nightmare. He wanted to shut it off. He closed his eyes tight. But the blue letters burned through his eyelids. They were etched into his brain.
"Turn off," Evan commanded.
CANNOT ABORT.
"Go away!" he shouted.
CURRENT SITUATION CRITICAL.
Evan froze. The text turned from calm blue to a violent, flashing red. The room seemed to pulse with the warning.
ANALYSIS OF LAST OUTCOME: FAILURE.
Evan grabbed his head. The "last outcome." He remembered it clearly. The image flashed in his mind, separate from the System. The screech of tires. The shattering glass. The silence that followed. He had failed. He had made a wrong turn, a bad choice, and it had ended in disaster. The guilt was a heavy stone in his chest.
"I know I failed," Evan whispered. Tears stung his eyes. "You don't have to tell me."
The System ignored his pain. It only offered a transaction.
EMERGENCY PROTOCOL DETECTED.
OPTION AVAILABLE: REVERSE LAST OUTCOME.
Evan stopped breathing. The room went silent. The ticking of the wall clock seemed to stop.
"Reverse?" Evan asked. "You can... go back? You can fix it?"
AFFIRMATIVE. TIME REVERSION IS POSSIBLE.
Hope rushed into Evan’s heart. It was a warm, dangerous feeling. He could undo the crash. He could undo the mistake. He could make it so the bad thing never happened. It was a miracle.
"Do it," Evan said. He didn't think. He just wanted the pain to stop. "Do it now."
CALCULATING COST...
The red letters blinked slowly. One. Two. Three.
COST: 730 DAYS.
Evan gasped. He fell back onto the bed. "Two years?"
TWO YEARS OF TERMINAL LIFESPAN. PAYMENT REQUIRED UPFRONT.
Two years.
Evan looked at his hands. He was young, but two years was a long time. Two years of sunrises. Two years of birthdays. Two years of breathing. If he accepted this, he would die two years sooner than he was supposed to. Maybe he would die at 80 instead of 82. Or maybe... maybe he was supposed to die next week, and this would kill him instantly.
"Is it worth it?" he asked the empty room.
The System did not answer. It only displayed a countdown timer.
OFFER EXPIRES IN: 10... 9... 8...
Evan’s heart raced. Thump-thump, thump-thump. It beat against his ribs like a trapped bird.
If he didn't do this, he had to live with the failure. He had to live with the guilt. The guilt felt like it would kill him anyway.
7... 6...
He imagined the face of the person he hurt. He imagined the broken glass. He could fix it. He could be a hero. Or at least, he could stop being the villain.
5... 4...
"If I do this," Evan thought, "I am selling my soul."
But the machine didn't want his soul. It wanted his time. It wanted his blood.
3... 2...
Evan gritted his teeth. He felt a surge of anger. He was angry at the world, angry at the accident, and angry at this unfinished machine. But mostly, he was desperate.
"I accept," Evan said.
He didn't just say it. He willed it. He screamed it in his mind.
PAYMENT ACCEPTED.
The red light exploded. It became a blinding white flash that swallowed the room.
Evan felt a sudden, sharp pain in his chest, as if a hand had reached inside and squeezed his heart. The air left his lungs. His vision blurred. He felt old. He felt weak. He felt two years of life being ripped away from his body in a single second.
He tried to scream, but no sound came out.
The world dissolved. The floor melted. The darkness returned, but this time, it was different. It wasn't the darkness of a room. It was the darkness of time rewinding.
The last thing Evan saw before he lost consciousness was a new message, floating in the void:
REWRITING REALITY...
Then, he lost consciousness.
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CHAPTER 9
The room was dark, but Evan squinted against a bright, blue light. The light did not come from a lamp. It did not come from the moon outside his window.The light came from inside his own eyes.Evan sat on the edge of his bed. His hands shook. He grabbed a glass of water from the nightstand, but his fingers were too weak. The glass slipped. It hit the floor with a loud smash. Water soaked into the rug.Evan did not look down. He could not look down. Floating in the air, right in front of his face, was a box made of light. It looked like a computer screen, but it was transparent. He tried to wave his hand through it. His fingers passed through the air, but the text remained.SYSTEM INITIALIZED.USER: EVAN KENNEDY.STATUS: ACTIVE."Stop," Evan whispered. His voice was raspy. "What is this?"The text changed instantly. It responded to his voice.IDENTITY: PROTOTYPE DECISION ENGINE (UNFINISHED).PURPOSE: RISK MANAGEMENT.METHOD: BIOLOGICAL TIME HEDGING.Evan read the words three times. Th
CHAPTER 8
Evan ran. His boots slapped against the wet metal of the walkway. His breath came in short, painful gasps. It felt like breathing through a straw. He did not look back. He knew they were there. He could hear their heavy footsteps. They were calm. They were not running. They did not need to run.Evan turned a corner and slipped. His shoulder hit a brick wall. Pain shot down his arm, but he pushed off and kept moving. He looked at his left wrist. The bio-screen embedded in his skin was glowing with a harsh red light.Current Balance: 2 Minutes.Future Projection: 0.00.Zero.The number made his stomach turn. In this city, time was not just money. It was life. If the projection hit zero, the system marked you as "Expired.""End of the line, Evan," a voice boomed.Evan stopped. He was in a dead-end alley. A high fence blocked his path. It was covered in razor wire. He spun around.Two men stood at the entrance of the alley. They wore matte-black armor. They had no badges, only the symbo
CHAPTER 7
The elevator did not stop at the rookie floor. It kept going up. The metal box shook and groaned. Evan looked at the screen above the door. The numbers climbed higher and higher.Level 4. High Stakes.The doors opened with a hiss. The air here was different. Downstairs, the rookie pits smelled like sweat and fear. Here, it smelled cold. It smelled like ozone and expensive cologne. The carpet was thick and red, like dried blood."Move," the guard behind Evan said. He shoved Evan forward.Evan stumbled into the arena. It was not a big, loud stadium. It was a small, round room. The walls were made of dark glass. Spectators stood behind the glass, watching silently. They held drinks in their hands. They were not cheering. They were studying.In the center of the room stood a table. It was black and shiny. On the other side of the table waited a man.He was old. In this city, being old was rare. It meant you won a lot. It meant you stole a lot of time from others. His hair was white, and h
CHAPTER 6
The pen felt heavier than a brick. It was a sleek, black pen, but in Evan’s hand, it felt like a weapon. He looked down at the paper on the metal desk. The paper was thick and cream-colored. The words were small, but the message was giant.Contract of Temporal Exchange.Evan took a deep breath. The air in the room smelled like rubbing alcohol and old money. He looked at the bottom of the page. The line for his signature waited. If he signed, there was no going back. If he didn't sign, he stayed poor and desperate.He pressed the pen to the paper. His hand shook a little. He wrote his name. Evan Kennedy.As soon as he lifted the pen, the black bracelet on his left wrist buzzed. It was a sharp pain, like a bee sting. Evan gasped and grabbed his wrist. The bracelet was made of smooth, dark glass. Suddenly, numbers flashed under the glass in bright red light.PROJECTED LIFESPAN: 03 Years, 02 Months, 14 Days.Evan stared. His mouth went dry. He was nineteen years old, but according to this
CHAPTER 5
“Just sell five years.” The words hung in the air.That would pay the debt. That would save his father. That would leave money leftover for food, for a new bike, for a heater in the winter.Five years.Evan was only nineteen. He had plenty of years. If he lived to be eighty, what was the difference if he died at seventy-five?He looked at the man in the suit. The man looked like a devil selling water in a desert.Evan shook his head and walked away, but the number stayed in his mind. Fifty thousand.Room 304 was small. It had no window. There was only one bed and a machine that beeped with a slow, steady rhythm.Beep... beep... beep.His father, Arthur, lay on the bed. He looked very small. His skin was gray, like old paper. There were tubes in his nose and a wire attached to his chest.Evan walked to the side of the bed. He pulled a metal chair close and sat down."Dad?" he whispered.Arthur’s eyelids fluttered. They opened slowly. His eyes were cloudy. It took him a moment to focus
CHAPTER 4
The rain in the lower city did not wash things clean. It only made the dirt wet. It turned the dust into gray mud that stuck to boots and tires.Evan pushed his bicycle through the mud. The bike was not new, but it was fast. It had a frame made of blue metal that shone even in the dark. He had built it himself from scrap parts over three years. It was his freedom. It was the only way he could travel to the upper levels to look for work.Today, it was just money.He stopped in front of a shop with a blinking yellow sign. The sign said: GRIX’S GOODS – WE BUY ANYTHING.Evan took a deep breath. The air smelled like burning plastic and old oil. He pushed the bike through the door. A bell rang above his head.Inside, the shop was full of junk. There were piles of old clothes, broken toasters, and screens with cracked glass. Behind a tall counter sat Mr. Grix. He was a large man with grease on his chin and a robotic eye that zoomed in and out with a soft whirring sound."I don't need wheels,
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