Nemesis. Start on the End.

"Today marks a pivotal moment in history, as Britain announces the future of global conflict—where virtual wars will define power, and traditional combat becomes a thing of the past."

I stared at the television, the voice from the screen blending with the quiet hum of the room. My mind felt clouded, distant, as the news reporter went on about the new era of virtual wars and how Britain was at the center of it all. But I wasn't really listening. The words faded into the background, and the memories of something else crept into my mind. Memories that didn't feel like they belonged here.

How was I here? I couldn't stop thinking about it. I remembered dying. The betrayal. Adams. The shot. The cold, unfeeling gunshot. But now, here I was, in this strange, familiar place. I was alive.

I reached out to turn off the television, the screen flickering before fading into nothingness. Silence filled the room. I stood up, feeling a heaviness in my chest, like something was wrong. Something I couldn't quite put into words.

But then I heard the door creak open. Footsteps. And then, I saw her.

My mother. She stood in the doorway, carrying bags from the store, her face full of concern.

My heart skipped a beat. It was her. It was really her. I had lost her. I had thought I had lost everything, but here she was, standing before me.

"Mom… I missed you so much," I whispered, my voice cracking. The words came out without me meaning to say them. I hadn't expected the flood of emotion. I hadn't expected to feel this overwhelmed.

She looked at me, confused, her eyebrows knitting together. "We've only been gone for a few hours. Are you okay? You seem… tired. Maybe too much work?"

I couldn't stop myself. The rush of emotions was too much. I moved toward her, not thinking about anything except holding her, feeling her warmth again.

I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. She stiffened at first, but then she relaxed, her hands rubbing my back in that comforting way she always had. It was like nothing had changed. But I knew it had. Everything had changed.

I pulled back from the hug, but the emotions were overwhelming. Tears welled up in my eyes. She looked at me with concern, but I couldn't find the words to explain what I was feeling, what had happened, how I had been lost, how I had died and come back.

I felt a sudden wave of dizziness, and I stumbled. My body felt weak, like it was struggling to function properly, as if it was out of sync with my mind. I could feel the world spinning, my vision going blurry. Before I could even process what was happening, she was there, gently guiding me to the couch.

"Sit down, honey," she said softly, helping me lower myself onto the cushions. "You're clearly exhausted. Just breathe for a second."

I tried to steady myself, but the emotions were too much. My heart ached with the realization that I was here, that I was alive. I had this second chance. I pulled her closer to me, without thinking, wanting to feel her again, to make sure this wasn't a dream, that she was real.

Before either of us could react, our lips met. It was a kiss, but it was an accident. A moment of confusion, a rush of emotion. But as soon as it happened, I pulled away in shock, my face burning with embarrassment.

She stood up quickly, her eyes wide with shock. She didn't say anything. She just turned and walked quickly out of the room, leaving me sitting there, trying to make sense of what just happened.

My sister entered the room just as my mother fled, her eyes immediately locking on me. She crossed her arms and furrowed her brow, confused.

"Wait… what just happened?" she asked, her voice uncertain. "Why did Mom hurry out like that?"

I froze, unsure of how to respond. My mind was still reeling, still processing the kiss, the confusion, the flood of memories. I just muttered, "I… kissed her."

Her eyes widened, and she blinked a few times, still not fully understanding. "You kissed Mom? First?" she asked, irritation creeping into her voice. "But… I thought I was supposed to be the one kissed first."

The room felt heavier now. The confusion and tension in the air were suffocating. But through the haze of it all, one thought stood clear in my mind: I had them back. I had my family back. And I wasn't going to lose them again.

My sister pouted, but I could see the flicker of something deeper in her eyes. Maybe jealousy, maybe something more complicated. It was strange, seeing her this way, knowing how much time had passed, how things had changed, and yet here she was—the same girl, but also not.

I let out a shaky breath, standing up to gather my thoughts. I still felt lost, like I was caught between two lives. The life I had lived and the one I was being forced to live again.

But in that moment, standing in the living room with my sister looking at me, I knew something. I had to protect them. I had to be strong for them. I had to be there.

I couldn't let them suffer. I couldn't let them be hurt again.

I wiped my face, feeling the raw emotions still swirling in me. "We need to prepare," I muttered, mostly to myself. My sister looked at me quizzically, but I didn't stop.

I needed to protect them. And in this new life, I had to make sure I did it right. No more mistakes. No more betrayals.

I had to be stronger. I had to be cruel if that's what it took. For them.

I had no time for regrets. No time for second-guessing. Two days. That's how long I had before the game End launched. I didn't need to waste time thinking about it. I knew what I had to do.

The game would give me money—real money, not the scraps I had been getting by on. It was the only way out. Not just for me, but for my family. I needed to move fast, get the money, and get us out of here before the disaster struck.

But I needed the helmet. Without it, everything was just a dream. A game. The thing that could change everything.

I had lived through hell once, and I wasn't about to let it happen again.

I stood in the kitchen, the weight of the world on my shoulders. This wasn't the life I wanted. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. I had to be smarter, harder. I wasn't some naive kid anymore. The world had shown me how ugly it could be, and now, I had to survive it. There was no time for doubt.

I thought about the plan. The helmet. I had to get the money, buy a place for us. A house in a different zone. Somewhere safe. Somewhere untouched by what was coming. The city was already crumbling. I could see it in the way people acted, in the desperation in their eyes. I wasn't going to wait around to be caught in the chaos. I wouldn't let my family be dragged into it.

I grabbed my jacket, pulling it on with quick, decisive motions. The house, the game, everything—just details now. The plan was clear. I didn't need anyone's help, didn't need anyone's approval. I was done being a boy. I was a man now. And I was going to make sure we survived.

I walked out the door without a second glance. My sister was still on the couch, scrolling through her phone like the world hadn't changed. I didn't care. She'd figure it out soon enough.

The air outside was colder than I remembered, biting at my skin. I didn't even notice the people on the streets anymore—those who looked like they were struggling to survive, those who were too lost to even notice the world was collapsing around them. I didn't care. They weren't my responsibility.

I wasn't the naive kid anymore. I had seen things. I had been through worse. And now? Now, I was ready for anything.

I passed by the usual scene—a group of men shouting at a helpless stranger on the sidewalk. I didn't flinch. I didn't even slow down. I was too focused, too determined. Violence, pain—it didn't matter to me anymore. I had been through it, and I wasn't scared of it. I had bigger things to worry about.

The old shop came into view—Harris' place, a relic from a time before everything fell apart. It was small, the kind of place that people forgot about. But I had worked here once, and it had been the only place that felt like something solid in a world of chaos. I didn't need that now. But I needed the money. The game needed money, and I wasn't going to sit around waiting for it to come to me.

I walked inside without a word. The bell above the door rang, but the air was as stale as ever. The same old smell of cheap tobacco and rust. Nothing had changed.

Mr. Harris was behind the counter, just like always. He looked up, his eyes heavy with disinterest. He'd probably been expecting this, expecting me to walk out someday. I wasn't the same kid I used to be. No point in pretending otherwise.

"Hey, Mr. Harris," I said, my voice flat. "I'm done."

He didn't blink. "Done? You're just a kid. You can't just quit."

I didn't care. I didn't need to explain myself. "Give me my money."

There was no fight, no hesitation. He slid the envelope across the counter, his eyes narrowing, probably wondering what I was planning. I didn't care. I took the envelope, shoved it into my pocket, and turned on my heel.

"You sure about this?" Mr. Harris called after me.

I didn't answer. I didn't need to. I was already walking out the door.

The world outside hadn't changed. But I had. And that made all the difference.

I had what I needed. I had the plan. The game. The helmet. It wasn't about saving the world. It wasn't about anything else. I had one thing on my mind. Get the money, buy the house, and get out before everything went to hell.

I couldn't afford to waste time. I had one goal now: a new life. And nothing—nothing—was going to get in my way.

The store was packed, the air buzzing with excitement. Everyone was talking about the game—End, the helmet, the virtual world where everything was at stake. They didn't know the real stakes. They were just chasing after the thrill, the money, the power that could be won in the game.

The television had said it before I turned it off: "War is now a game. Combat is no longer in the streets. It's in the virtual world. End will redefine what it means to win—and to lose." To them, it was just a game. A way to escape the ordinary. A way to feel powerful.

But I wasn't here for the power, the fame, or the glory. I wasn't here to be like them, to fight for a seat in this new world. I was here for survival. For my family.

I needed that helmet. I needed it to get the money to buy us a new place, somewhere safe. Somewhere far away from the coming storm.

The line in front of me was full of impatient people, everyone shoving forward, eager to grab their piece of the End experience. They didn't know about the disaster coming. They didn't know what was coming for all of us. I did. And I was ready to do whatever it took to make sure I could get my family out of here before it was too late.

When someone bumped into me, I barely reacted. Just a glance to see who it was—some guy trying to get ahead in the line, all impatient. He looked at me like I was in his way. But I wasn't moving. Not for him. Not for anyone.

I didn't want trouble. I didn't want to make a scene. I wasn't here to prove anything. I was here for one thing: to survive. To protect the people I loved. So, I stood there, steady, waiting.

The line kept shifting, the tension building. People muttered impatiently, others tried to rush ahead, but I wasn't going to be distracted by them. I just needed to get my helmet. That was the first step. Get it, get home, and then I could make a plan.

Finally, I was at the front. The cashier barely glanced at me, just scanned the helmet, handed it over, and took my money. No congratulations, no pleasantries. Just a quick transaction. People around me were too busy talking, discussing strategies for the game, the power they hoped to gain. They didn't care about anything else.

I took the helmet, but it wasn't the thrill that mattered. It wasn't the game. It wasn't the hype. I had bigger things to focus on.

I turned and walked out of the store, ignoring the people still crowded around the shelves, still scrambling for their spot. They were all too caught up in the game, in the excitement, in the competition for power. But none of it mattered to me.

The city outside was as cold as ever, filled with the rush of people lost in their own worlds, hurrying past me like I wasn't even there. Some of them might never realize what's coming. They're all wrapped up in their little lives, thinking that the game will fix everything, thinking they can control their fate. But I know better. I know what's waiting.

The streets felt empty as I walked, even though they were full. Everything felt distant. People were going about their business, oblivious to the disaster that was about to strike. But I wasn't like them. I wasn't living in ignorance. I had seen the truth.

And I wasn't going to let it take me down.

I needed to get home. I needed to protect my mother and sister. I needed to be ready.

They had no idea what was coming. But I did. And now, I wasn't going to let anything—anyone—stand in my way.

I wasn't a kid anymore. I wasn't a boy who had to follow the rules. I was someone who had been through hell and come back with only one goal: to make sure my family survived.