The night air felt heavy as Jason—no, Grayson in Jason's body—sat quietly in Sam's beat-up sedan, the silence broken only by the low hum of the engine and the occasional honk of a passing vehicle. Neon lights from nearby shops reflected off the windshield in fleeting streaks, blurring into an endless wash of color.
Jason leaned back against the seat, staring out the window as his mind wandered. Everything still felt unreal. The workshop. The cars he had fixed without ever lifting a manual. The glowing rectangular screen that only he could see.
And now, he had to go "home."
But where was home?
He had no memories of Jason's neighborhood, no recollection of where he lived, or what his private life looked like. The dreams had given him glimpses—conversations with friends, fragments of his daily routines—but nothing clear enough to guide him back to his apartment.
So he turned to Sam, hesitating before asking.
"Hey… uh, Sam. I—I don't really feel like myself lately," Jason muttered, scratching the back of his neck. "Mind giving me a lift? I can't even remember how to get home."
Sam turned his head briefly, giving him a side-eye. His lips curved into a grin, though his expression carried an edge of worry.
"Man, what's going on with you?" Sam asked, chuckling softly. "You've been spacing out all day, fixing cars like some damn robot, and now you don't even know your way home? Did you hit your head or something?"
Jason forced a laugh, trying to keep it light. "Maybe I did. Or maybe I drank too much last night."
Sam shook his head but didn't push further. "Fine, bro. I'll drop you off. Just don't go all Alzheimer's on me, okay?"
The ride continued in silence until Sam finally pulled into a rough neighborhood. The streetlights flickered weakly, casting dim yellow halos on cracked sidewalks and half-abandoned buildings. The air smelled faintly of dampness and rot.
Jason stared out, unsure if this was truly where he belonged. Then—
[ System Directive Active ]
Location Recognition: Resident Jason Tyler.
Apartment: Building 9, Unit 3B.
The glowing words hovered in his vision, pointing directly at a rundown, graffiti-stained building with broken windowpanes and peeling walls. Jason swallowed hard.
"Here?" Sam asked, raising a brow.
Jason nodded stiffly. "Yeah… here. Thanks, man."
Sam gave him a look of sympathy but didn't comment. "Alright, bro. Get some rest. You looked dead tired all day. Don't let the bed bugs eat you alive."
Jason forced a smile as he stepped out. "Goodnight, Sam."
The sedan pulled away, leaving Jason standing alone in front of the crumbling structure. He looked up at the dark windows, feeling an ache in his chest. This was his "home" now.
He walked inside.
The stairwell smelled of mold and damp laundry. The light bulbs overhead flickered as though they were on their last breath. Jason climbed the creaking steps, guided by the system's faint glowing arrow until he reached Unit 3B.
He hesitated, hand trembling on the doorknob, before pushing it open.
The stench hit him immediately.
Inside, the apartment was a battlefield of neglect. Empty bottles and wrappers littered the floor. The TV was cracked down the middle, its screen a shattered mirror of disappointment. The windows were broken, letting in a cold draft that carried dust and street noise. The refrigerator door hung ajar, revealing its empty, buzzing insides. A fan stood in the corner, its blades broken, rust flaking along the sides.
Jason blinked in disbelief.
"This… is where I live?" he whispered.
He stumbled further in, stepping over dirty clothes and papers scattered across the floor. The furniture was mismatched, some half-broken. A single dim bulb flickered above, casting long shadows across the mess.
His breath caught when he saw the small dining table. On it lay a single styrofoam container with dried noodles inside, half-eaten. Beside it, a plastic fork bent at the handle.
And then—his eyes fell upon the wall.
There, taped haphazardly above the clutter, was a photograph. A smiling boy—Jason—and next to him, a young girl, cheerful and innocent.
Jason froze. The girl.
The reason.
A voice startled him.
"Jason…?"
Jason spun around.
From the doorway of a dimly lit room emerged a small figure, frail and pale. She was no older than twelve. Her hair was messy, her clothes slightly oversized, hanging off her thin frame. She coughed softly, her hand pressed to her chest, and yet her eyes brightened the moment she saw him.
It was Sophie.
His heart clenched.
"Big brother!" she exclaimed, running toward him despite her weak frame. She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, pressing her cheek to his chest. "You're home!"
Jason knelt, trembling, his arms wrapping around her small body. Her warmth, her fragility—it was overwhelming. His throat tightened as he tried to speak.
"Sophie…" His voice cracked. "How are you doing, little one?"
She pulled back slightly, coughing again before flashing him a tired smile. "I'm fine, Jason. Just a little cough, that's all."
Fine?
Jason stared at her, his eyes burning. She was skin and bones, her cheeks hollow, her energy clearly drained. This wasn't "fine." This was survival.
Sophie giggled softly. "You look different today, Jason. Did something good happen?"
Jason swallowed hard, forcing a smile. "Yeah… something good happened. And I'm here now. Don't worry about a thing."
Her tired eyes softened. "Good. I'll go to bed now, okay? Don't stay up too late."
She gave him one last weak hug before shuffling back to her room, her small figure disappearing behind the door.
Jason remained on his knees, trembling.
Then the system appeared before him.
[ System Directive ]
Primary Task Unlocked.
Objective: Ensure Subject SOPHIE TYLER reaches Age 16 in peak health and financial security.
Condition 1: Subject must eat three balanced meals daily.
Condition 2: Subject must undergo consistent medical care until fully healthy.
Condition 3: Subject must maintain academic excellence (All A's).
Condition 4: Subject must enroll in and graduate from the most prestigious high school in the country.
Failure to meet ANY condition = Permanent Erasure of both Host and Subject.
Jason's breath caught. His heart pounded as he read the words, his mind reeling.
"This… this is the task?" he whispered.
Not battles. Not money. Not fame.
But her. Sophie.
The reason he had been given a second life wasn't for glory—it was for her survival.
Jason clenched his fists, determination burning through the tears clouding his eyes.
"I'll do it," he muttered, his voice steadying. "I'll do everything. No matter what it takes… I won't let her suffer anymore."
The system flickered in response:
[ Acknowledged. Primary Task Active. ]
Jason stood slowly, glancing at the photo on the wall once more. His reflection in Jason's smile looked back at him, but all he saw was Grayson—the man who had lost his family once already.
This time, he would not fail.
---