Darkness surrounded him.
It wasn't the calm darkness of sleep, nor the quiet peace of rest. It was heavy, suffocating—an endless void that pressed down on his very existence, leaving no room to breathe.
A figure stood within it.
Alone.
His body felt unfamiliar. The explosive strength that once defined him had long faded, replaced by a dull heaviness. Every movement carried the weight of time, every breath slower than it should be. The speed that once shattered defenses was gone, and the sharpness of his physical peak had been eroded by years.
But his eyes remained unchanged.
Cold. Focused. Burning.
Fragments of memories began to flicker before him, like broken pieces of glass reflecting light in the darkness.
Packed stadiums. Deafening cheers. Nights under the floodlights of Europe's greatest stages. Trophies raised high above his head. Moments that defined an era.
Glory.
Greatness.
Immortality.
For a brief moment, everything felt complete.
Then the fragments shifted.
Missed chances.
Injuries at the worst possible times.
Moments of impatience.
Decisions made too quickly, too emotionally.
The silence after victory.
The loneliness behind the spotlight.
His expression slowly hardened.
He had achieved more than most players could ever dream of… yet deep within him, there was a truth he could not escape.
It wasn't enough.
Not because he failed—
But because he knew he could have gone further.
"I could have been better…"
His voice echoed faintly in the void, swallowed almost instantly by the darkness.
The memories surged again, faster this time.
And then—
A younger version of himself appeared.
Eighteen years old.
Full of energy. Untouched by pressure. A body at its absolute beginning, overflowing with potential that had yet to be shaped.
The older version of himself stared at that figure in silence.
That boy had everything.
Talent that defied logic.
A body built for dominance.
Time—something the current him no longer possessed.
And yet…
Even with all that, there had been imperfections. Small mistakes. Tiny decisions that seemed insignificant at the time, but over the years, quietly built limitations he could never completely erase.
If those flaws had been corrected from the beginning…
If every choice had been sharper…
If every moment had been used to its fullest…
His fists clenched.
"If I had this body again…"
The thought formed slowly, but once it appeared, it became unstoppable.
"If I could start again—without hesitation, without mistakes…"
His breathing grew heavier, his gaze sharper than ever before.
"This time, I wouldn't just become the best."
A pause.
It was his final breath ...
The darkness around him began to tremble, as if reacting to his will.
"I would become… something beyond that."
The void cracked.
Light tore through the darkness in violent streaks, shattering everything around him. The fragments of memory surged together, colliding, merging, overwhelming his consciousness.
Pain followed.
A deep, tearing pain—as if his very soul was being pulled apart and rebuilt from nothing.
His vision blurred.
His awareness collapsed.
And then—
Light.
---
He inhaled sharply.
Air rushed into his lungs as if he had been drowning moments ago. His body jerked slightly as he opened his eyes, instinctively adjusting to the brightness around him.
A ceiling.
Not the void.
Not darkness.
A real room.
His heartbeat accelerated.
He slowly raised his hand.
Smooth skin. Defined muscles. Strength hidden beneath youth.
No scars. No fatigue. No weight of time.
Alive.
Fully alive.
He sat up abruptly, his breathing uneven, his mind still struggling to process everything that had just happened.
Then—
His gaze fell on the mirror across the room.
For a brief second, he hesitated.
Then he stood and walked toward it.
Step by step.
Until the reflection became clear.
A young face.
Sharp features. Slightly messy hair. Eyes filled with intensity—
Eyes that once belonged to a legend at the end of his journey…
Now returned to the very beginning.
Cristiano Ronaldo
Eighteen years old.
---
Silence filled the room.
The memories of two timelines overlapped perfectly within his mind—not as confusion, but as clarity.
He knew everything.
The peaks.
The failures.
The moments that defined history—
And the ones that could have been better.
---
A slow smile formed on his lips.
Not excitement.
Not disbelief.
But absolute certainty.
"This time…"
His voice was low, steady.
"I won't leave anything behind."
He looked directly into his own reflection, his gaze unwavering.
"I won't chase greatness."
"I will surpass it."
And in that quiet room, unnoticed by the world—
A future that once existed had been rewritten from the very beginning.
...