Early morning. The sunlight bled softly through the curtains, painting golden streaks across the cluttered apartment floor. Dust motes drifted in the air, undisturbed. A man was sprawled on the bed loudly snoring. He was so out of it as if this was the first time in years he was sleeping so well. And then, bang bang bang. The door shook like someone was about to kick it off its hinges. Damon flinched awake, groggily sitting up. Another knock, louder this time, almost furious. He stumbled to his feet, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and cursing under his breath. "If this is another delivery I didn't order..." He swung the door open. And froze. Standing there, backlit by the morning sun, was a woman who looked like she had just stepped out of a modeling catalog. She was stunning, dangerously so. Long blonde hair fell in lazy waves over a crimson jacket that clung to her in all the ways that made reality feel unreal. Her legs were long and sculpted, and her posture was effortlessly confident. Her beauty had that impossible, cinematic quality, the kind teenage boys stashed under their pillows in glossy magazine form. But her blue eyes... They were cold. Unblinking. Lacking even an ounce of emotion. Damon's mouth hung open. How was she here? Why was she here? He stood like a statue and gawked at her, his brain completely short-circuiting. A look of disgust flashed past the beautiful face but Damon did not care. He was not staring because she was beautiful. He was staring because this woman should not be here right now! "Your mail." The ice-cold beauty extended her hand. When Damon did not respond, she shoved a small, matte-black envelope into his hands, then turned on her heel like the conversation was over. Her boots clacked once on the floor before she paused at the apartment in front of his. She opened the door, went inside, and shut the door on his face. She was gone. Damon stood there for a long time completely dumbfounded before he scrambled back into his studio apartment, crashing onto the bed, his chest heaving up and down. He was having a panic attack. Why was she here? What was happening? Of course, he knew the woman before. He knew her a long time ago, so why was she here now? He frantically looked around when he saw that his entire apartment looked different. It looked like she was in the right place and he was in the wrong place. This was the old apartment he had moved into from his parent's house. He closed his eyes as pain and frustration overwhelmed him. This place had seen both the best of him and the worst of him. "No," he whispered. "No, no, no... it can't be possible." He rushed to the closet and yanked it open. Hanging there was an old hoodie he hadn't seen in years. His breath caught. He turned to the desk and flipped open the laptop. The login wallpaper flashed across the screen, a half-naked Nicole Kidman. His trembling fingers opened the calendar widget. The date stared back at him: March 3rd, 2042. Damon staggered backward, dropping into his chair like his knees had given out. That was three years ago. The exact day Earth Online launched. The blood drained from his face. Somehow, some way, he was back. Before the betrayal. Before the fall. Before Aiden stabbed him in the back and stole everything. Damon clutched his head, cradling it in between his palms. How did this happen? The last thing he remembered was standing in the resurrection lake to reset his character and begin all over again. He was going to create a new character and claw his way back one more time. This was not something advised for the players because when a character reset, there was a penalty associated with it. They inherently would only be able to receive less stats every level and needed more experience points to level up. A couple more penalties here and there. However, Damon was already at rock bottom. Thanks to his guild mate and his so-called best friend, everything he had worked for had been crushed and laid waste in a single day. Bloodreign. The legendary artifact he was first in line to claim. The item that would've cemented his name across the leaderboards. He'd done everything right. Maxed out the build. First-clear pathing. Worked tirelessly for days on end for the hidden quest. But in the end, it didn't matter. Aiden had shown his true colors just before the final phase and stabbed him through the back, live on stream. The kill, the drop, the credit, all his. Normally, this would not have mattered but this was his hidden quest boss and its drop was a requirement for his special class. Without the drop, the backlash was simply too high and the quest failure gave a heavy penalty. Damon had been left paralyzed inside the game, his character bugged beyond recovery. He was crippled with no way out. The guild disowned him. The community laughed. And Damon had never recovered. S~eaʀᴄh the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Until last night. He had returned to Earth Online despite everything. Not to win. Not to climb. Just to bury what was left of himself and start over as a new low-level player. He had stripped everything. Deleted his gear. Walked into the Resurrection Lake and confirmed the irreversible reset. Right. That was when he fell asleep and when he woke up again... He was here. Back in his old apartment, back in his old body, and somehow, against all logic, back in time. Three years ago. March 3rd, 2042. The morning it all began.