The city streets were super quiet now. Earlier, Adam had felt the weirdness of the park, the sting of his scraped hands, and the ache in his side from where the bully kicked him. But as he walked, the city woke up, and then slowly went back to sleep as nighttime really took over. He walked for what felt like hours.

  His mind was full of confusing thoughts, fear, and the crazy idea that he might be back in the past. The only thing guiding him was the memory of his friend Eric and how kind Eric had been when things were bad before.

  He held onto the straps of his old bags. The rough material rubbed against his shoulder. Every step he took on the sidewalk sounded loud in the silence. Most building windows were just dark squares. Streetlights made pools of yellow light, making the shadows look long and spooky. He felt small and alone, lost in a time he didn't get, thinking about memories that felt old but also scary and new.

  Finally, he turned a corner and saw it – a small house he knew on a quiet street. A warm light glowed from the front window, lighting up the sidewalk and the small lawn. It looked safe and cozy, totally different from the cold, unsure feelings inside him.

  Adam stopped on the sidewalk, just outside the warm light. He looked at the window, then down at his dusty bags and scraped hands. He suddenly felt really embarrassed. What was he doing here? Showing up late, looking beat up, carrying everything he owned in a couple of cheap bags.

  He remembered how his visit had caused trouble for Eric’s family last time – they worried, got stressed, and got unwanted attention from John Walker’s friends. It made Adam leave back then, adding another failure to his list.

  He paused. His hand felt heavy, like he couldn't make himself ring the doorbell. What if they said no? What if they remembered the trouble, even if they didn't know they remembered it? What if Eric’s dad thought he was just a problem? The fear of being rejected and the shame of needing help made him want to turn around and disappear into the shadows. He remembered running away from help before because he was scared.

  But before he could leave, a voice called out, "Adam?"

  Adam jumped and turned his head fast. Standing nearby, next to a parked car, was a man. He wore an office shirt with his tie loosened, looking tired but familiar. It was Eric’s dad, Mr. Henderson, who must have just gotten home from work. He looked a little worried as he saw Adam standing there awkwardly with his bags.

  "Mr. Henderson," Adam said, his voice quiet. He felt like everyone could see how nervous he was.

  Mr. Henderson walked closer. "Adam, son, what are you doing out here so late? Is everything okay? And all these bags…" He looked at Adam's few bags.

  It was quiet for a moment. Adam’s throat felt tight. He couldn't tell the truth – that he woke up on a park bench with fuzzy memories, got attacked by bullies who mentioned the guy who ruined his life, and now thought he might have traveled through time.

  It sounded crazy. He needed a simple story, something believable, something that wouldn't make them panic but would explain why he was there. He remembered the lie he told last time, the one that actually worked.

  He made himself look Mr. Henderson in the eye and managed a small, tired smile. "Oh, hello, Uncle," he said, using the polite name he always did. "Everything's... mostly okay. Just some bad luck." He waved his hand towards the street.

  "I was heading home, but I missed the last train. Dumb mistake. By the time I knew, it was too late to find another ride tonight, and I... well, I didn't know where else to go. I was hoping maybe Eric wouldn't mind if I stayed here just for tonight."

  He held his breath, waiting to see how Mr. Henderson would react. He kind of expected him to hesitate or look suspicious. He remembered thinking last time that this nice man would see right through him. But just like before, Mr. Henderson's face relaxed. The worry lines around his eyes smoothed out, and he gave Adam a warm, kind smile.

  "Missed your train? Oh, you poor kid. Of course, you did the right thing coming here," Mr. Henderson said warmly. He stepped forward and put a big, comforting hand on Adam’s shoulder. The touch felt good, like an anchor. "Don't you worry about a thing. Come on in, get settled. You must be tired."

  Adam felt a huge wave of relief, so strong it almost made him dizzy. They didn't turn him away. He had a safe place, at least for tonight. "Thank you, Uncle. Thank you so much," he mumbled, feeling truly grateful.

  Mr. Henderson squeezed his shoulder gently. "Don't be silly. Friends help each other out. Eric will be happy to see you, though probably surprised this late." He unlocked the front door and pushed it open, letting Adam go in first. "Come in, come in. Make yourself feel at home."

  Adam paused for just a second before stepping inside, pulling his bags with him. The door clicked shut behind him, blocking out the quiet street and wrapping him in the house's warmth.

  Inside, it smelled like cooked dinner and maybe clean clothes – the smell of normal life. A TV was playing softly in another room, and a ceiling fan whirred gently. The hallway was small but cozy, with a rug on the floor and pictures on the walls.

  Pictures of Eric growing up, family trips, happy faces. They made the place feel lived-in and safe. Looking at them made Adam feel a bit sad, reminding him of his own broken family, but also really comforted. This place felt real and safe, far away from the cold street and the threat of John Walker.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Mr. Henderson led him down the hall. "Eric's probably still up. Let's see." He took Adam to a small sitting area off the main room.

  Eric was there, sitting in an old armchair, looking up from a book. He looked surprised to see Adam standing there with his bags. Eric was Adam's oldest friend. He knew Adam well, but even he didn't know everything Adam had been through, or the strange thing that might be happening now.

  Eric stood up, his look changing from surprised to worried as he saw Adam. He probably noticed how tired Adam looked, maybe even the marks on his hands. "Adam? Hey! What’s up? Dad just said someone was here..."

  Before Adam could tell his story again, Mr. Henderson quickly explained, "Adam missed his train, son. He's staying the night."

  Eric looked back at Adam, studying his friend's face. "Missed your train? Man, that sucks. But..." He lowered his voice a bit. "I heard some stuff... about John Walker. That he's really mad at you. I didn't think... I didn't think it was that serious." He sounded worried about his friend.

  Adam looked at Eric and tried to smile confidently, even though he didn't feel it. "Hey, don't worry about it, Eric. It's messy, but I can handle it." He didn't want to worry Eric with the whole truth, especially not now, not after what happened last time. "Seriously, I'll figure it out." His voice was calm, but inside, the memory of the bullies' threat and John's name made him feel determined. He had to handle it, somehow.

  Eric still looked worried. He didn't seem totally convinced but decided to trust Adam for now. He nodded slowly. "Okay, man. Okay. But look, if you need anything – really, anything – just let me know, okay? I'm probably gonna go to bed soon. I'll be in the side room if you need me." He pointed down the hall. "You should get some rest. You look like you had a rough day."

  "Thanks, Eric. I really appreciate it," Adam said honestly.

  "Yeah, get some sleep, Adam," Mr. Henderson added kindly. "Eric, show him the spare room?"

  "Sure thing, Dad. Follow me, Adam." Eric led him down a short hallway to a small, simple room at the back of the house. It was just a guest room with a single bed, a small wooden desk and chair, and a window looking out at the quiet backyard.

  "Here you go," Eric said, opening the door wider. "It's not fancy, but it's quiet. Bathroom's right next door. Just ask if you need towels or anything."

  "This is great, Eric. Really. Thank you," Adam said, dropping his bags on the floor. He felt so relieved.

  "No problem, man. Seriously. Get some sleep," Eric said again. He gave Adam one last worried look before closing the door gently, leaving Adam alone.

  Silence filled the room. It felt thick and comforting after the crazy day. Adam stood still for a moment, just breathing in the quiet air. He walked over to the desk and put his bags down next to it. Then, he sat on the edge of the bed. It was soft and comfortable. The relief was huge. He rubbed his face, feeling how tired he was deep down.

  He looked around the small, plain room. It was clean and peaceful. But his mind was still buzzing, thinking about everything that happened – waking up on the bench, the confusing memories, the bullies, the pain, John Walker's name, the crazy idea of time travel. It was a lot to handle.

  As his thoughts spun around, his eyes drifted up. He saw it again. A small, faint, shiny dot of blue light floating in the top-right corner of his vision. He’d kind of noticed it since he woke up on the park bench, a weird little thing he mostly ignored because other stuff was happening. But now, in the quiet safety of this room, he got curious. It wasn't a reflection; it seemed like it was part of his eyesight.

  He tilted his head, looking at it. He looked up at the ceiling, trying to see if it was connected to anything. "What is that?" he whispered. The blue glow looked steady, kind of ghostly, and definitely weird. It had been there since he showed up in this past time. What did it mean?

  Feeling curious and a little nervous, Adam focused all his attention on the glowing blue shape. He stared at it, hoping it would do something, show him what it was. Like it was answering him, the small dot pulsed once, then quickly grew bigger, changing right in front of him. It went from a dot to a small, see-through rectangle, like a light blue piece of glass floating in the air. It looked clear and bright, almost solid, even though he knew it wasn't really there.

  Adam blinked hard. His heart started pounding. Was he seeing things? Was it because he was stressed or tired? He rubbed his eyes, but the blue window stayed there, floating steadily. Then, letters started appearing on it, forming clear words.

  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Congratulations, host! You have returned back in time.

  Because you have time returned, the system grants you a unique skill.

  Skill – Copy & Paste.

  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Adam gasped. His eyes got wide as he read the words again, and then again. Returned back in time. A unique skill. Copy & Paste. It proved his wildest, scariest thought was true. He was back. And something else happened too. He wasn't just reliving his past; he somehow got a special ability?

  He moved back on the bed a little, leaning against the headboard, his mind racing. "Am I dreaming?" he whispered, his voice shaky. It felt like something from a fantasy book, too strange to be real.

  But then, he thought about the park bench, the bullies, the scrape on his hand that still stung a little, the cold feeling he got when he heard John Walker's name. His life was already super weird. Waking up in the past was strange enough. Seeing a message on a floating blue screen? Maybe it wasn't that much weirder.

  He let out a small, nervous laugh. "Well," he muttered, feeling a little bit of his determination come back, along with a weird kind of acceptance. "Lots of weird stuff has already happened. This is just… one more thing to figure out."

  He made himself take slow, deep breaths to calm his racing heart. He read the message on the blue window again and again. The words stayed the same. Returned back in time. Unique skill. Copy & Paste. He felt hopeful but also careful. If this was real, if he really had some kind of power… could it change things? Could he use it against John Walker? Could he stop his family from being ruined this time? Could he change his awful future?

  The ideas were huge, almost scary. But first, he had to know if it was real. He couldn't just trust a floating blue window. He needed proof. He had to test it.

  His eyes looked around the simple room again for something to use. The bed, the desk, the chair… nothing special. Then he saw a plastic water bottle on the corner of the desk, probably left for guests. It was plain, half-empty, normal. Perfect.

  Taking another deep breath to calm himself, Adam got off the bed and walked to the desk. His hand shook just a little as he picked up the water bottle. It felt cool and real. He held it up, looking at the blue window still floating in front of him.

  Okay. Copy & Paste. How did it work? Did he touch it? Think it? Say it? The message didn't say. He decided to try saying the command.

  Focusing on the water bottle, he cleared his throat and said the word softly but clearly in the quiet room: "Copy."

  He waited, holding his breath, paying close attention. He stared hard at the water bottle, then looked around the room. Nothing happened. The bottle didn't make a copy of itself. No light surrounded it. The room stayed the same. He felt a little disappointed. Was it fake? Was he just imagining things?

  But then, just when he started to doubt, he noticed something small change. Not the bottle, but the blue light in his vision. The little dot in the top-right corner – the one that turned into the window – started to shimmer faintly. It wasn't the main window with the message, but that original tiny light. It pulsed with a soft blue glow, like a tiny computer light blinking, showing it heard him.

  Adam leaned forward, squinting, trying to focus on that tiny, pulsing dot. It was small, easy to miss, but it was definitely there, reacting. It felt… like it was waiting. Like it was waiting for the next step.

  Was that it? Did 'copy' work somehow, saving the bottle's information in that little dot? He needed to be sure. He spoke louder this time, with more force. Holding the water bottle steady, he repeated clearly, "Copy!"

  The water bottle didn't change. The room stayed still. But the tiny blue dot in the corner of his vision pulsed again, and this time, its light seemed a tiny bit brighter, its shimmer stronger. It was definitely responding to his command, even if nothing obvious happened.

  Adam slowly put the water bottle back on the desk, his mind buzzing. Okay, so maybe it didn't make a copy right away. Maybe 'Copy' saved something, like copying a file on a computer. And if that was true, then the next step would be... 'Paste'.

  A cold, sharp thrill went through him. He felt amazed but also doubtful. Was this real? This weird message? This blue light reacting to his voice? This impossible skill – Copy & Paste? His heart pounded, not just with fear or confusion anymore, but with a new, exciting possibility.

  If this power was real, really real… then maybe coming back to the past wasn't just a second chance to suffer. Maybe it was a chance to fight back. Maybe he could finally take control, change the story, and make a future where John Walker didn't win, where his family wasn't ruined, where he wasn't going to be a victim. The idea was both scary and amazing.