Aki floated in darkness. Or maybe he didn't.
He couldn't feel his body. There was no weight pulling him down, no breath going in or out of his lungs. Just... silence. A silence so deep, it didn't feel peaceful. It felt like he didn't exist at all.
Like he had been erased.
Then, from the middle of that endless darkness, a voice spoke.
"PLAYER IDENTIFYING... SYSTEM REBOOTING..."
A tiny flicker of something.
A heartbeat, maybe.
Something deep inside him shifted.
"CRICKET SYSTEM ACTIVATED."
The voice didn't come from around him. It came through him. It felt like it had always been hidden inside him, waiting for the right moment to speak. It was strange—both ancient and futuristic at the same time like it belonged to gods and machines together.
"PLAYER: AKI SURYA – STATUS: REGRET FILLED. POTENTIAL: UNFULFILLED."
Those words hit him hard. His heart—or whatever was left of it—sank.
"RESETTING TIMELINE... AGE: 15."
He wanted to shout. To ask what was going on. But no sound came from his mouth.
Only one more sentence echoed through the darkness:
"WELCOME BACK, CHAMPION."
Then it all changed—suddenly and without warning.
Light.
Heat.
Noise.
Aki gasped loudly.
His eyes flew open. The sky above him was a blinding blue. The sun burned down on his skin. The ground beneath him was hot and cracked with dust.
He was kneeling on a cricket field.
"Aki! Catch the ball, idiot!" someone shouted from a distance.
Too late.
Still confused, Aki barely turned his head before—
THWACK!
A red leather cricket ball slammed into his face. The pain was instant. His vision blurred. Blood started running from his nose.
He collapsed to the ground, groaning.
"Bro! Are you serious!? Why were you just standing there!?" another voice yelled—half laughing, half annoyed.
A few boys rushed toward him, some shouting, some giggling.
Then came another voice. Softer. Worried.
"Aki! Are you okay!?"
Aki blinked, trying to focus.
It was Nikhil. His best friend.
Nikhil knelt beside him, his school shirt untucked, eyes filled with concern. He pulled out a crumpled handkerchief and handed it to Aki.
"You're bleeding, bro. That ball hit you bad. Can you see properly?"
Aki nodded slowly and pressed the cloth to his nose.
But he wasn't thinking about the pain.
His mind was spinning.
He looked around.
There was the banyan tree near the pitch—the one they always sat under during breaks.
There was the old blue school building in the background.
And those voices—the boys around him—laughing, shouting, running. These were his old friends. Friends he hadn't seen in years.
He stared at his own hands. They were small. Smooth. Young.
This... this was his village.
This was Khed.
His childhood.
And it was real.
The pain in his face. The dust in the air. The smell of sweat and the feel of soil.
This wasn't a dream.
He was 15 again.
Aki felt a wave of emotion rise inside him. Confusion. Shock. Fear. Hope.
What is this? he thought. Am I dreaming? Did I die? Is this heaven... or a test?
He wiped the blood from his face and looked at the group of boys around him. Some were still giggling. Some looked worried. Nikhil stayed close, his hand on Aki's shoulder.
This wasn't hell.
It was a second chance.
And this time, Aki promised himself—he wouldn't waste it.