18 Again

Nathan Garcia lay on his hospital bed, a thin, pale shell of the man he used to be. The room was dim, the steady beeping of the heart monitor the only sound. It was strange, Nathan thought, how even in his final moments, life dragged on, slow and relentless. His mother sat by his bedside, holding his hand, her eyes red from tears that never seemed to stop. His sister stood by the window, staring out into the dark cityscape, her body stiff, shoulders heavy with sorrow. Nathan could feel it—the cold, creeping sensation spreading through his body as death approached. He had read somewhere that cancer was supposed to be a slow, painful death, and now he knew exactly what that meant. But worse than the physical pain was the flood of regret that overwhelmed him. A life wasted. "I could have done better," he thought, his breath shallow, every inhale a struggle. His mind flashed back to his teenage years, skipping classes to hang out at the local computer shop, burning through hours of games instead of studying. It seemed like harmless fun back then, but it spiraled. His grades slipped, and he almost dropped out of school. His mother had worked so hard, picking up extra shifts just to pay his tuition at a private college, and his sister had sacrificed so much too, working part-time jobs to help. All for what? He finished college, but barely. He never found the job he dreamed of, never lived the life he had envisioned. No fancy cars, no grand vacations, none of the luxury he had once believed would come. Just a series of failed attempts and missed opportunities. "I'm sorry," he whispered, barely audible, squeezing his mother's hand. She looked at him, forcing a smile through her tears, and he felt a pang of guilt. She had given him everything, and in return, he had given her only heartache. "It's okay, Nathan," his mother said, her voice breaking. "It's okay." But it wasn't. He could see it in her eyes, and in his sister's silence. He had let them down. The room seemed to darken further, and Nathan's vision blurred. His body felt heavy, too heavy to move. He couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore. His breath hitched as a sharp pain shot through his head—an unbearable pressure, like his skull was splitting apart. “Is this it?” he thought, his mind swirling in panic. “Is this really the end?” His thoughts began to slip away, his mind drifting into nothingness. He fought against it, but it was no use. The world went black. For a moment, there was nothing—no pain, no sounds, just the cold, silent void. --- Nathan opened his eyes, gasping for air. His heart pounded in his chest as he bolted upright. For a moment, he didn’t understand where he was. He blinked, trying to focus. The surrounding room was very familiar—light blue walls, a small wooden desk cluttered with papers and old textbooks, a single window where faint morning light filtered through the curtains. “W-where am I?” Nathan muttered, his voice hoarse. His head throbbed, the pain from before still echoing faintly in his skull. He looked around, confused. This was his room—his dormitory room. The same bed, the same old posters on the walls, the same pile of clothes in the corner. “How… how is this possible?” His voice trembled as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. His body felt lighter, his muscles not aching like they had in the hospital. He rushed to the mirror on the wall, staring at the reflection before him. A younger version of himself looked back, eyes wide with shock. His face was smoother, no wrinkles, no signs of the sickness that had ravaged him in his final days. He touched his face, running his fingers over his smooth jawline, his full head of hair. “I-is this my old body? Nathan's memories from both Past life and present still intact. Am I… eighteen again?” Nathan stumbled back, his heart racing. “No… this can’t be real. I was… I was dying. I remember…” His thoughts raced. The hospital. Cancer. His mother and sister crying at his bedside. It was all real. Wasn’t it? He looked at his hands, still shaking from the shock. "What the hell is happening?" Suddenly, a soft chime rang in the air. Nathan looked around, startled, and then something appeared before his eyes—a floating, translucent screen. A voice, calm and mechanical, echoed in his mind. "Welcome, Host Nathan Garcia, to the Infinity System. This system is bound to you alone and cannot be transferred. Upon your demise, the system will vanish. "Nathan stared, frozen in place as the words scrolled across the holographic panel. He blinked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. “Infinity… System?” He whispered, reaching out, but his hand passed through the screen. The voice continued, emotionless yet commanding. "This system grants you access to infinite funds, linked to global banks, accessible via your fingerprints, facial recognition, or pupil scan. For every currency spent, you will gain Point, which can be used to upgrade your strength, mind, and skills." Nathan’s mind spun. Infinite funds? Points? He looked at the screen again, where new information appeared. Name: Nathan Garcia (Human) Age: 18 Balance: Infinite dollars Strength: 5 (Weak) Mind: 5 (Poor) Skills: (Can be upgraded using points) Points: 0 His eyes widened. “This… can’t be real.” But as he stared at the stats, something inside him stirred. He remembered his old life—how he had failed, how he had wasted his chances and lying in his hospital bed having tumor cancer. And now, somehow, he had been given a chance. A chance to make things right. A chance to live the life he had always dreamed of. Nathan clenched his fists, determination flooding through him. This time, he wouldn’t fail. This time, he would take control. “I’ll do it right,” he whispered. “I won’t waste this chance.” And with the Infinity System at his side, he was ready to start again.