Cherreads

Chapter 1 - The Downfall

Rain fell as if it were a judgment from the sky.

Clouds had long since lost their shape, a churning mass of gray swallowing the last light of the day. Lightning flashed in the distance, illuminating a figure standing at the edge of a high-rise apartment balcony. Silent, soaked, and shattered to pieces.

He stood barefoot on the cold, slippery tiles. It took only a gust of wind to bring him down. Soon. Below, the city carried on. Neon lights blinked, cars passed, people laughed under umbrellas… and none of it mattered to him anymore.

The world had abandoned him long ago. He remembered the time when his suffering began.

"You're pathetic."

"You couldn't even save your parents."

"Who would want a loser like you?"

Those words weren't just echoes in his mind, they cut like wounds. The voice of his ex-girlfriend, mocking laughs from classmates, silent judgment in every look he received, all mocking his ruined life.

He gripped the rusty railing, knuckles whitening. The damp shirt clung to his thin frame, and he shivered. Not just from the cold.

His breath caught as painful memories played back like a merciless flashback.

It happened in the middle of a crowded campus. A time when the day should have been bright, with a bold sun shining overhead.

Students were bustling about the faculty courtyard. Some sat on benches, sharing laughs over their phones. Everything seemed normal until a loud voice tore through the air.

"I'm done, can't do this anymore!"

Suddenly, all heads turned.

He stood rooted to the spot. In front of him was the girl, with long hair flowing, her eyes burning with either anger or… boredom.

That was his girlfriend. The person he thought would stand by him forever. But clearly, he was wrong.

She looked at him with disgust, crossed her slender arms as if confronting dirty trash.

"I'm done. I can't keep dating a broke guy with no future, no plans. You think being a lovesick puppy is enough?"

Some students stopped walking. Those sitting down turned to watch. A few even began to record.

His heart pounded so hard it felt like it would explode.

"Look at you! Can't even afford food without asking friends. No shame? I need a man who can take care of me, not a lifelong burden!"

He tried to speak, but his tongue froze. His mind shut down. The sky seemed to blur.

Then…

Her hand slipped into the arm of another guy, wearing a fancy jacket and a flashy watch.

"This is Dave. He'll treat me better than you ever could."

The guy just smiled, as if agreeing with every insult. He patted her shoulder sympathetically, then led her away. He stood there, motionless. Everybody watched. Their eyes, once uncaring, were now filled with pity—thin as tissue paper.

Some girls in the crowd whispered,

"I heard he got dumped because he's broke..."

"No wonder. She's pretty, and he… well."

"Feel bad but it's his own fault. Who sticks with someone who can't even pay for a meal?"

Meanwhile, the guys just shook their heads. A few sighed, but not one came closer. No one patted his back to console him. No words were spoken. It was as if they all believed he deserved this. As if poverty was the crime that justified it.

He stood there for seconds. Then minutes. Until the crowd parted, bored of the spectacle. Until laughter returned to the air, replacing the painful silence.

And he…

He just bowed his head. No tears fell. Only emptiness, gripping his heart so tight it was hard to breathe.

He tightened his grip on that rusty railing again, fingers turning white. His wet shirt clung to his frail body, and he trembled. Not just from the cold, but from the memory that haunted him like a merciless playback.

And then... just a month ago.

He remembered the antiseptic smell, the beeping machines, the guilt-laden sighs from doctors and nurses who couldn't do anything. His mother... his father… both lying still on the hospital bed, their hands cold in his.

The doctor said, "If we had started treatment just a bit earlier..."

But he didn't have the money. He had tried, oh God. He had tried. Borrowing from banks, friends, anyone. But by the time funds finally arrived, it was already too late.

Her father? That figure also had the same fate as the woman who was now lying in a hospital bed, in a white room full of the smell of medicine. A man who was once proud and strong, was destroyed silently. Died on the spot due to an accident, before his wife.

And what did the world give him in return for all this suffering? Nothing.

He was left with no dignity. His ex—no, his ex-girlfriend publicly dumped him in front of the entire campus. Called him a burden, a loser with no future, and laughed as she walked away with someone richer and stronger.

He had nothing left. No love. No future. No reason to breathe.

"If only I were born rich…"

"If only I had power…"

He laughed bitterly, voice hoarse. "If only I could have saved them."

Then his foot stepped forward.

The wind roared past him, greeting him like an old friend who'd come back coldly. Gravity pulled him, and the world blurred.

"Mom… Dad… forgive me…"

He floated like a fallen leaf, completely surrendered to destiny. Before he could even blink.

Time slowed. Rain droplets froze in midair, as if mourning his despair.

Then—

He hit the pavement.

A sickening crack echoed through his bones. His neck snapped. His leg twisted unnaturally. Broken ribs pierced his lungs. Blood gushed from his mouth, warm and pooling around him.

His eyes bulged… his body convulsed. His breath caught.

His heart beat once… Then again, slower… Then—

Silence.

The world faded.

Darkness swallowed him. Colors vanished. The ticking of time ended softly, like a final whisper escorting his soul away. Finally… it was over. His eyes closed.

But then, a faint glow appeared. A gentle hand halting time.

It slowed his descent into nothingness.

Something unseen yanked at his soul. Not from this world, but from the realm of consciousness.

It seemed the world wasn't done with him yet. In that silent moment, just as his awareness was about to slip away.

A voice. Cold… calm… almost emotionless.

[SSS-Rank AI System Activated]

[Host detected: Emotional Threshold Exceeded]

[Binding consciousness to system interface...]

[Error: Physical body destroyed. Reconstructing consciousness...]

[Entering stasis: Engaging temporal reset protocol]

[Rewinding… ten years past]

[Mission: Rewrite your destiny]

[Binding complete]

He gasped.

Air filled his lungs as his eyes fluttered open.

No sirens. No pain. No blood.

He was lying on a familiar, warm bed. A ceiling above him... bed sheets with that detergent scent. Posters of old games and dreams he'd long forgotten hung on the walls.

His hand trembled as he sat up. Everything felt youthful but real.

From outside the door came a booming voice: "Wake up, son! Breakfast is ready. Come down right now!"

His heart raced.

"Mom?"

He scrambled out of bed and hurried down. His eyes locked on the calendar nailed to the wall.

No… impossible…

Ten years ago.

Exactly a year before everything fell apart. Before betrayal. Before death. Before losing it all.

He staggered back, breathing shallow. He turned toward the small mirror, and what he saw turned his blood cold. The face staring back at him… younger, clearer. Not yet marked by tears and sleepless nights.

Then a soft blue light flickered before his eyes. A floating panel hovered, transparent and humming with quiet energy.

[Welcome, Host. Your second life begins now.]

[First Mission: Save your family. Rewrite your fate.]

[Path to supremacy initiated.]

His knees buckled once, and he collapsed back onto the bed, eyes wide and shining.

"This is real. I've… gone back."

"A second chance… for me?"

The world never spared him. Life never gave him options. But now… he had one.

He clenched his fists, feeling fire ignite in his chest. For the first time in years, he felt hope, and ambition.

"This time… I won't lose anything," he whispered.

He rose quickly and stepped through the doorway, heart pounding. He hurried down the spiral stairs, each step echoing in time.

Once he reached the ground floor…

Alaric froze.

In the center of a spacious, elegant dining hall, with a high ceiling and warm crystal chandelier, sat three figures he thought he'd never see again. His mother.

Draped in her flowered apron as she helped set the table, hair neatly tied in a bun. His father.

Tall and composed in a crisp office shirt, sipping coffee while reading the morning paper.

And Anna, an older housekeeper he loved like a grandmother... placing fresh juice at the table, her smile gentle. The world seemed to stop. Alaric stood frozen at the threshold, eyes wide.

This wasn't a dream. They were alive. Everything was still intact. His hands trembled. His vision blurred. Tears fell—first trickling, then in a steady stream. His mother looked up.

"Alaric?"

His father folded the paper. "Son? Are you okay? Why are you crying so early?"

Alaric wiped his face quickly. "Um… just… a bad dream, I guess," he replied, voice hoarse.

He walked slowly toward the dining table. His slippers made soft noise on the gleaming marble floor. Each step felt like he was walking into his own past.

He stood at the end of the long table. Staring at the two figures he'd only seen in old photos and fragmented memory.

His mother smiled gently. His father nodded, not yet alarmed by his behavior.

Alaric took a deep breath.

This was his chance, his beginning, he would protect them. No matter what.

Then the voice returned—inside his head, calm but utterly decisive.

[SSS-Rank AI System has reactivated. Time is moving. First mission awaiting.]

[Priority: Revive the family's economy. Safeguard future collapse points.]

[Main task: Change the fate that had failed.]

His eyes sharpened. The tears dried, but the fire within him burned even brighter.

He clenched his fists at his side and looked at his empty plate... then at his parents, who were already eating with peaceful smiles.

In this house, the three-story home full of antique collections and modern relics. They were all still here. Not sold. Not seized by the world.

"And right now, Dad's company is still thriving. Untouched. Not swindled. Not bankrupt. Not destroyed."

He stared at the empty plate, but his mind was overflowing.

Then, in a quiet voice he added, "I won't stay passive."

"This time… I will save them. No matter what."

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