London, 2025.
The cold air slapped Aion Blake's face the moment he stepped out of his rented room. His thin gray jacket did almost nothing against the chill.
"Spring? More like a walking freezer," he muttered, tugging the zipper up to his chin. His sling bag hung loosely over his shoulder, with fraying threads at the edges threatening to come off.
For Aion, this had become routine. He was a second-year physics student at the University of London. His parents lived in Liverpool—his father a truck driver, his mother a shop clerk. They weren't rich, but they managed to support him… if Aion didn't need anything extra. Unfortunately, he did. That's why after lectures, he had to work part-time at a café. Not to splurge, but to pay for rent and those overpriced textbooks.
He was an only child—quiet, but not a shut-in. His grades were decent, though he wasn't a genius. Just an ordinary guy with ordinary burdens: lectures, work, piles of assignments, and a blurry dream of a better future.
His days were always the same.
Until that day.
At the bus stop, he stared at the cheap watch on his wrist.
"If this bus is five minutes late, I'm officially a failed student," he grumbled.
He glanced left and right. His neighbor from the end of the corridor was complaining about the weather. A black car with a loud exhaust passed by. A dog barked in the distance.
For some reason… it all felt familiar.
Aion frowned. Ever since he woke up that morning, there'd been this weird sensation. Every sound, every sight, even snippets of conversation around him felt like a recording he'd heard before.
Déjà vu?
He shook his head. "Probably just too many late nights."
The bus screeched to a stop. Aion got on and found a seat by the window. London rolled by outside the glass—old Victorian buildings standing side by side with modern glass towers, crowds of people in sharp suits and teenagers in hoodies.
He tried focusing on his lecture notes, but that strange feeling wouldn't go away.
"Why does it feel like I know what's going to happen?" he whispered.
He even predicted a child would start crying at the next stop. And sure enough, when the bus halted, a baby's wail pierced the air.
Aion froze. "Okay… this is getting weird."
Campus was its usual chaos—noisy, crowded, full of half-asleep students surviving on caffeine. Aion headed to his physics lecture hall. Professor Morgan, a bald man with thick glasses, stood in front of the projector screen.
"Today we'll discuss special relativity. Turn to page forty-two," he said firmly.
Aion nearly dropped his pen. The words, the tone, even the angle of the paper in the professor's hand… all identical to what had flashed in his head earlier.
He could even guess the next line: "If you approach the speed of light, time will slow down."
And—exactly as predicted—the professor said it word for word.
Lisa, the classmate sitting next to him, dropped her pen at the exact same second Aion expected. Behind him, a coffee cup spilled, followed by a familiar annoyed shout—just like a "script" he'd already heard.
"No. This isn't déjà vu. This is… what?" Aion swallowed hard. But the lecture had to go on. He couldn't just walk out because his head was spinning.
That evening, he swapped his hoodie for a black apron with Bean & Leaf printed on the front. The small café near campus was always packed during rush hour. The smell of coffee filled the air, mingling with the chatter of customers and the hiss of the espresso machine.
Aion worked part-time here to keep himself afloat. Without this job, he'd probably be living on stale instant noodles.
"Order number twelve! One hot cappuccino!" he called, carrying a tray.
A middle-aged man in an expensive suit sat near the window, typing furiously on his laptop.
Aion hurried over. He was exhausted. The floor was a bit slippery, but he didn't notice. Then—squeak! His foot stepped on a small puddle of water.
Time seemed to slow. He lost his balance. The tray tilted. The hot cappuccino flew.
"Crap, that suit is ruined, I'm so fired—"
And suddenly—
He was standing behind the cashier again.
The tray was still full in his hands.
The suited man by the window had just received his receipt.
The puddle on the floor was still there.
"What… was that?" Aion gaped. He looked around. Everything had reset to just seconds before.
His heart pounded wildly. He slowed his steps this time, avoiding the puddle, and delivered the cappuccino safely. The customer thanked him, oblivious.
Aion stood there for a few seconds, stiff. Had he really just gone back to the moment before he fell?
"No way… just an illusion," he muttered.
But the déjà vu that had been a faint echo all day had turned into certainty. He had actually… rewound time?
The rest of his shift passed with his mind blank. He didn't dare tell anyone.
That night, the neon lights of London blurred in his vision as he trudged back to his rented room. He collapsed onto his thin mattress.
His thoughts spun.
If I can really rewind time… what does that mean? Why me? Am I losing it?
He shut his eyes, hoping sleep would give him answers.
But the next morning, everything became much clearer.
When Aion opened his eyes, something felt off. The sunlight streamed through the curtains at the exact same angle. His cheap phone alarm rang with the exact same tone. Out in the corridor, his neighbor grumbled about the weather—using the exact same words.
He tried ignoring it. But once class started, Professor Morgan once again said, "Today we'll discuss special relativity," in the exact same tone. Lisa dropped her pen at the same time. And at the café, the same suited man walked in, ordering the same cappuccino—again.
Everything was identical. The exact same as yesterday.
Aion's breath caught.
There was no doubt now.
This wasn't just déjà vu.
He had literally gone back to yesterday.
Fear and curiosity knotted in his chest. The world felt like a broken record on repeat, and he was the only one aware of it. Aion stood frozen in the café, staring at the suited man.
"What's happening to me?" he whispered.
And that day, Aion's life changed forever.