The taste of copper was the last thing Arthur remembered.
He was slumped against a dumpster in a dark alley, his blood mixing with the filthy rainwater. Above him stood Julian—the man he had called "brother" for fifteen years. Julian wasn't just a toxic friend; he was a monster who had systematically stripped Arthur of his inheritance, his reputation, and finally, his breath.
"Don't look at me with those pathetic eyes, Arthur," Julian hissed, stepping over Arthur's broken body. "In this world, there are predators and there is prey. You were just a very loyal dog."
A gunshot echoed. Silence followed.
[The Transition]
Gasp!
Arthur lunged forward, his lungs burning as if he'd been underwater for an hour. He expected to feel the cold pavement. Instead, he felt a soft, synthetic fabric.
He wasn't in an alley. He was in a brightly lit gym.
His ears were ringing with the sound of sneakers squeaking on a basketball court and the distant chatter of teenagers. He looked down at his chest. No bullet hole. No blood. Just a gray school hoodie.
"Yo, Artie! You falling asleep mid-set?"
Arthur froze. That voice.
He turned slowly. Standing there, younger and without the expensive plastic surgery, was Julian. He was seventeen, grinning with that same fake "charming" smile that had fooled Arthur for a decade.
"You okay, man? You look like you saw a ghost," Julian said, reaching out a hand to pat Arthur's shoulder.
As Julian's hand approached, Arthur's body reacted before his mind did. Ten years of surviving in the streets kicked in. In one fluid motion, Arthur swiped Julian's hand away and gripped his wrist with a strength that made the younger boy's bones creak.
"Don't. Touch. Me," Arthur whispered. His voice wasn't the voice of a seventeen-year-old. It was deep, hollow, and terrifying.
Julian's smile vanished, replaced by genuine shock. "Ow! What the hell, Artie? It's just a joke!"
Arthur looked at his own reflection in the gym mirror. He saw a boy's face, but eyes that had seen the end of the world. He realized what had happened. It wasn't a dream. It was a reset.
He pulled out his phone—a cracked Samsung. A notification popped up:
Calendar: Football Tryouts – 4:00 PM.
Arthur remembered this day. This was the day he had broken his ankle, ending his sports career and making him dependent on Julian's "charity" for the rest of his life. In his first life, he thought it was an accident. Now, looking at Julian's shifty eyes, he knew the truth. Julian had tripped him on purpose.
Arthur let go of Julian's wrist and leaned in close, his voice a cold shadow.
"I know what you're planning for the game today, Julian. The 'accident.' The 'trip.'"
Julian went pale. "I—I don't know what you're talking about—"
"Good," Arthur said, his lips curling into a predatory smile. "Keep it that way. Because this time, I'm not the dog. And you? You're not even the predator."
Arthur turned and walked away, every step feeling like a heartbeat. He had the knowledge of ten years of betrayals, the secret bank codes Julian would use in the future, and the names of every enemy Julian hadn't even made yet.
The game was about to begin. But the rules had just changed forever.