The next morning, Felix opened his eyes before the alarm rang.
For a few seconds, he lay still, staring at the ceiling above him. Pale light seeped through the curtains—soft, faint, but unmistakable.
Morning.
Slowly, he sat up.
His heart began to pound—not with fear, not with confusion, but with urgency. A quiet pressure settled in his chest, the kind that came not from panic, but purpose.
Felix swung his legs off the bed and crossed the room in two quick steps. He stopped in front of the mirror.
Seventeen.
The boy staring back at him had clear eyes and smooth skin, untouched by exhaustion or disappointment. There were no fine lines at the corners of his eyes, no dullness in his expression—none of the weariness that had etched itself so deeply into his face in his first life.
Yet the sharpness in his gaze startled him every time.
Felix placed both hands on the edge of the sink and leaned closer.
"This isn't a dream," he whispered.
The words felt solid in his mouth—real, undeniable.
A breath left him, slow and heavy. Half relief. Half disbelief.
It had really happened.
He straightened, splashed cold water on his face, and glanced at the clock mounted above the mirror.
5:30 AM.
Perfect.
Felix pulled on his track suit, tied his shoes with practiced efficiency, and stepped out of his room. The house was quiet, but not asleep. It had a living stillness to it, like a breath held between moments.
Downstairs, soft sounds reached his ears.
When Felix entered the living area, he saw his mother in the small garden just outside the house. Radha stood barefoot on the damp soil, watering her plants carefully. Drops of water clung to the leaves, catching the early sunlight as it filtered through the open sky.
For a moment, Felix simply watched.
In his first life, mornings like this had passed him by unnoticed. He had been too busy surviving—too wrapped up in his own disappointments—to notice what living actually looked like.
"Morning," Felix said softly.
Radha looked up and smiled. "Good morning, Fel. You're up a little early."
"Just trying to put some extra effort into the competition," he replied.
She nodded approvingly, adjusting the watering can in her hand. "Good. But don't try to push yourself too hard."
Felix smiled faintly. "I won't."
From the front door came the sound of shoes being adjusted against the floor.
Krishna stood there, already dressed, stretching his shoulders as if preparing for a long walk rather than a short one.
"Ready?" he asked Felix.
Felix nodded. "Yeah."
Alex was still asleep upstairs—likely buried under his blanket, lost in dreams and blissfully unaware of the quiet discipline unfolding below.
Father and son stepped out into the morning together.
The streets were quiet. Shops stood shuttered, metal grills pulled down. The air was cool and clean, brushing lightly against Felix's face. Their footsteps echoed softly against the pavement as they began walking at a steady pace.
Felix breathed deeply.
Each inhale felt like he was pulling something new into himself—clarity, perhaps. Or resolve. Each exhale felt like he was leaving something behind.
As they moved farther from the house, Felix's eyes drifted ahead.
Then—
He slowed.
Just a little.
Across the street, a familiar house stood quietly.
Painted a soft, pale color. A small balcony facing the road. Curtains drawn, windows closed.
Felix stopped.
His heart tightened.
Her house.
In his first life, this place had become a memory wrapped in regret. His first love. His first hesitation.
He had admired her from a distance. Missed chances. Delayed words. Watched life move forward while he remained frozen in place.
Later, he would hear that she had moved on—studies, life, someone else.
And he had never blamed her.
He had blamed himself.
Felix stood there, just for a moment longer than necessary, letting the memory wash over him.
Then—
"Felix."
Krishna's voice.
Felix looked back.
Krishna stood a few steps ahead, hands on his hips, watching him quietly. There was no impatience in his eyes. No question. Just presence.
Felix shook his head gently and jogged forward.
"Sorry," he said.
Krishna waved it off. "Nothing to apologize for."
They resumed their pace, turning onto the main road that led toward the park.
The silence between them was comfortable, broken only by their footsteps and the distant chirping of birds.
After a while, Krishna spoke.
"You know," he said, eyes forward, "life isn't about pushing yourself every day."
Felix listened.
"It's about never giving up on yourself," Krishna continued. "Even when everyone else disappears."
Felix nodded slowly, absorbing the words.
"In life," Krishna added, "you'll fail. Everyone does. But don't let failure decide who you become."
Felix swallowed.
Krishna glanced at him briefly. "Your mother and I—we'll be with you. But only until you stop believing in yourself."
Felix frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"
Krishna smiled. "Support isn't meant to replace belief. It's meant to remind you that you're capable of standing on your own."
They reached the park—about two kilometres from home.
Trees lined the path, leaves rustling softly in the breeze. A few early joggers passed by, nodding politely as they went.
Felix broke into a light run.
Krishna followed, steady and unhurried.
Felix felt his lungs burn gently, muscles warming, heart settling into rhythm. This wasn't punishment. This wasn't escape.
This was preparation.
This is different, Felix thought.
In his first life, effort had always felt like desperation—like trying to outrun failure.
Now, it felt like direction.
They slowed near a bench and stopped to catch their breath.
Felix bent slightly, hands on his knees, breathing hard—but smiling.
Krishna stretched his arms, satisfied. "Good pace."
Felix straightened. "I almost forgot how much I love the mornings."
Krishna chuckled. "What does that mean?"
Felix gave him a light smile. "Nothing."
They started walking back.
The sun had risen higher now. The world was fully awake.
As they retraced their path, Felix felt something settle firmly within him.
He wasn't chasing everything at once.
He was building.
Step by step.Choice by choice.
They passed the familiar street again.
Felix glanced once more toward the house—but this time, he didn't stop.
Not yet.
Some things, he thought, deserve patience.
When they reached home, Radha was waiting with water and a light breakfast ready.
Alex stumbled downstairs moments later, rubbing his eyes.
"Why are you both acting like athletes?" he muttered.
Felix laughed softly. "You should also join us sometimes."
Krishna clapped Alex on the back. "Your brother is right."
Alex made an irritated face. "No thanks."
Felix took a seat, sipping water slowly.
The day had begun.
And this time, he wasn't afraid of where it might lead.