Chapter 1: A Second Chance

Pain.

Unbearable pain.

Ethan bolted upright with a strangled gasp.

His chest burned.

His lungs screamed for air.

For one horrifying moment, he was still there.

Still trapped beneath the endless tide of zombies.

Rotting hands clawed at his body.

Teeth tore into his flesh.

The smell of blood and decay filled his nose.

Screams echoed from every direction.

His powers raged out of control.

Lightning split the sky.

Flames devoured entire streets.

The earth trembled beneath his feet.

Yet it wasn't enough.

No matter how desperately he fought, the horde kept coming.

Endless.

Relentless.

Hungry.

Then came the backlash.

His abilities exceeded their limits.

Agony exploded through every nerve.

His body began to tear itself apart.

The zombies reached him.

Nathan...

A familiar face flashed through his mind.

The quiet smile.

The unwavering loyalty.

The man he had failed to protect.

His chest tightened.

"I'm... sorry..."

Then

Death.

Ethan sucked in a sharp breath.

Silence.

No screams.

No zombies.

No pain.

Only the frantic pounding of his heart.

His trembling hands flew to his chest.

Smooth skin.

No wounds.

No blood.

Ethan stared at the room.

His gaze moved from the bed to the windows.

Then to the expensive furniture.

His heartbeat quickened.

He knew this room.

Every corner.

Every detail.

But that was impossible.

He hadn't seen it in years.

Throwing aside the blanket, Ethan stumbled out of bed.

His legs nearly gave way beneath him.

The digital clock beside the bed caught his eye.

8:17 AM.

June 12th.

His breath hitched.

June 12th.

The phone slipped from his fingers.

It crashed onto the floor.

June 12th.

Four days before the apocalypse.

Four days before hospitals became overcrowded.

Four days before the infected began dying.

Four days before the dead rose.

Four days before civilization collapsed.

"This..."

His voice sounded hoarse.

"This can't be real."

He staggered toward the bathroom.

The cold marble floor chilled his bare feet.

His hands gripped the sink tightly.

Slowly, he raised his head.

The man in the mirror wasn't the exhausted survivor who died at thirty-two.

The scars were gone.

The weariness was gone.

The hopelessness that had followed him for years was gone.

A younger face stared back at him.

Twenty-seven.

He was twenty-seven again.

Ethan reached out and touched the mirror.

Warm.

Real.

Not a dream.

A laugh escaped his lips.

Then another.

Soon his shoulders shook.

He couldn't tell whether he wanted to laugh or cry.

He was back.

Back before the apocalypse.

Back before the betrayals.

Back before all the regrets that haunted him until death.

Nathan.

The laughter died instantly.

A familiar ache spread through his chest.

Nathan.

The person who had always stood behind him.

The person he never truly saw.

A memory surfaced without warning.

It was raining heavily that day.

Ethan had forgotten his umbrella after class.

When he finally left the university library, Nathan was standing outside.

Soaked from head to toe.

Waiting.

Just to give him an umbrella.

Ethan had taken it without a second thought.

He never even thanked him.

His chest tightened.

How many times had Nathan done things like that?

How many times had he ignored them?

Instead, Ethan chose Noah.

Sweet words.

Beautiful lies.

Noah's laughter echoed in Ethan's ears.

Cold.

Mocking.

Cruel.

"Do you know what the funniest part is?"

"No matter what I did..."

"Nathan never betrayed you."

The memory cut deeper than any wound.

Too late.

Everything had come too late.

His fingers tightened around the sink.

This time...

He would make things right.

A sudden thought struck him.

His powers.

Ethan stared at his hand.

The apocalypse hadn't started yet.

His abilities shouldn't exist.

Yet...

Slowly, he focused.

Nothing happened.

A bitter smile appeared.

Of course.

He was being ridiculous.

Then

Crackle.

A thin strand of blue lightning crawled across his fingertips before vanishing.

Ethan froze.

Another spark flickered into existence.

Small.

Weak.

Barely noticeable.

Yet undeniably real.

His breathing caught.

The power remained.

Not the overwhelming strength he once possessed.

Not even close.

But enough.

Enough to prove he wasn't dreaming.

Enough to prove his memories were real.

Enough to prove the apocalypse was coming.

Four days.

He only had four days.

Four days to prepare.

Four days to change fate.

Four days to save the people he had lost.

Nathan.

Without hesitation, Ethan grabbed his phone.

His thumb hovered over a familiar contact.

Nathan.

His heart pounded.

Then he pressed call.

The ringtone echoed through the room.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Each second stretched longer than the last.

Then—

The call connected.

"Hello?"

Nathan's sleepy voice drifted through the speaker.

Ethan closed his eyes.

His vision blurred.

Nathan was alive.

Alive.

For the first time in six years...

Hope didn't feel impossible.

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