After a while, Raj slowly regained his senses. Blinking, he struggled to comprehend the unfamiliar scene before him. Panic clawed at his throat as a barrage of questions flooded his mind.

"Where am I? Is that... Ali? From high school?" he stammered to himself, his voice barely a whisper.

When Raj was 48 years old, he once purchased a super expensive High quality Drug The potent drug, a cocktail of memory-enhancing chemicals, had cost him dearly - nearly a third of his company's annual profit. It promised a vivid reliving of his past, and to its credit, it had delivered. But memories, however vivid, were mere past. They held no tangible reality.

Except, Raj felt different. His hands, usually calloused and firm from years of toil, were smaller, the skin smooth and surprisingly tender. These weren't his weathered hands, the tools of a seasoned entrepreneur. Panic clawed at his throat as a horrifying realization dawned. This wasn't his body.

A torrent of memories flooded his mind, details resurfacing with startling clarity.

California High School of Science and Arts, the year etched in his memory with the painful precision of a scar. Back then, he was Raj, a scrawny, impoverished student, an easy target for the school's resident bullies. They were a pack of entitled brutes, their cruelty fueled by their families' wealth.

Raj was the perfect victim - poor, quiet, and easily intimidated. They tormented him relentlessly, and today was the day of reckoning. He, the hapless goalkeeper, had failed to stop the winning goal, causing his team to lose a hefty sum: $10,000. As punishment, they'd forced him to complete their AI assignment, a task he dreaded. The humiliation had driven him to skip school for weeks.

But this wasn't a memory. This was… real? A surge of shock coursed through him, accompanied by a vivid recollection of taking his own life. His soul, somehow, had been flung back in time, deposited in the body of his fifteen-year-old self, a scrawny boy in grade 9, section C.

He glanced around, his eyes falling on the infamous isolated corridor on the ground floor, notorious as a breeding ground for bullying, conveniently located near the boys' restroom. Excitement, sharp and potent, threatened to choke him.

"This is real," he whispered, urgency creeping into his voice. "Not a dream?" He pinched himself, the sharp pang confirming his suspicions. He wasn't dreaming. Then, a thought struck him like a bolt of lightning.

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"The locket! The ancient locket must be behind this!"

His hand instinctively went to his neck, searching for the familiar weight of the ancient pendant. It was gone. Panic surged through him. Could this inexplicable rebirth, this impossible journey through time, be unrelated to the enigmatic locket? He'd always considered it a mere relic, an heirloom of little value. But after his abduction by the Wentian, he'd begun to suspect it held untapped power.

Now, staring at his teenage reflection in the grimy locker mirror, he was certain. The locket, bathed in his blood during his suicide attempt, had been the key. It must had sent him back, back to the year he was fifteen, back to a life he'd desperately tried to escape

.

The sudden shock brought his mind into chaos.

Raj sank to the cool, polished floor, the unfamiliar texture sending a jolt through him. It was better than the panicked pacing, he reasoned, offering a small comfort in his chaotic situation. He cradled his head in his hands, his breaths coming in ragged bursts.

"This can't be real," he whispered, the words barely audible against the buzzing in his ears.

"The expensive drug, the memories... the ancient locket." He closed his eyes, the image of the intricate pendant flashing in his mind.

Soon, the weight of the realization settled upon him like a leaden cloak. The locket, the one he'd always dismissed as a mere relic, was maybe the key to his impossible journey.

A surge of emotions swept over him: excitement, confusion, and a flicker of something he couldn't quite define. It was a desperate hope, a yearning to rewrite the past.

He remembered the sting of Kim Wentian, the chilling darkness that had consumed him after the deaths of his family at the hands of Kim Wentian. But now, he was back, fifteen years old and brimming with the knowledge and experience of a seasoned businessman.

"Maybe it is my second chance," he murmured, a fierce glint igniting in his eyes. "And I won't let them die again." He clenched his fists, the memory of his torment fueling his resolve. "I’ll kill you, Wentian," he declared through gritted teeth, his voice echoing eerily in the empty corridor. "You will pay for your crimes.”

A sliver of a smile played on his lips as he remembered the year. Half a year into high school, fifteen years old. He was young, full of the boundless energy he missed desperately.

He closed his eyes, picturing the bustling metropolis of New Los Angeles in the year 2221 – a testament to the ever-changing world. The three major families, the Ferran, the Stanley Sacreeds, and the Nkosi Ancients, ruled supreme, their influence spanning across the state.

The city of Los Angeles, once a sprawling metropolis, had been absorbed into a single entity called New Los Angeles, a consequence of the devastating civilian war of 2087. The Stark Planet, a distant entity from another galaxy, was whispered to be the catalyst for this war, forever altering the landscape of the United States. His own family, the Rajs, were migrants who arrived in 2190, escaping the chaos and tightening grip of their native country ,India.

But then, reality intruded, his financial situation wasn't good at this time.

He muttered, his voice laced with a hint of little despair . "With my family's limited means, changing anything seems futile." He paused, his gaze sharpening. But then, the glint in his eyes returned, brighter this time. "But I have the knowledge, the experience," he asserted, his voice firm. "With them, I can rebuild, create a new foundation for myself and my family."

A firmness flashed across Raj's eyes, since he was reborn, is money even an issue?

He was no longer just Raj, the business tycoon; he was Raj, the survivor of the unseen future.

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