Since childhood, he excelled at everything.
Being the best among his peers came naturally. Acting as the perfect son was effortless.
Nothing made him struggle, whether it was a test, a competition, or a challenge. Failure was an alien concept, a distant reality meant for others.
Yet, perfection had its price. The thrill of achievement dulled over time. What once sparked joy became routine. Still, the approval of others filled the void—at least for a while.
His mother's radiant smile when he aced his exams.
His father's proud nod after a flawless chess victory.
These moments fueled him and kept him going. But as he outgrew their praise, he sought validation elsewhere.
First, from friends. That was easy. Be the fastest on the track. The bravest in the dark. The 'coolest' in any given moment.
Then, from teachers. Even easier. A well-placed question, a respectful demeanor—soon, he was the model student, the golden child.
But life, once vibrant, turned grayscale. The final stroke came the day he uncovered his gift.
It happened on an ordinary afternoon.
He was wandering the neighborhood when a small puppy darted into the road, chasing a stray ball.
He heard the squeal of tires. Followed by a sickening thud. And when he turned, only a lifeless body, twisted and broken, remained.
But then…
Zzt—
The world flickered.
A blink—and time rewound. The puppy stood unharmed on the sidewalk. The car, still far away.
A sharp sting burned behind his eyes.
His once brown irises shimmered, turning molten gold. Confusion gripped him, but instinct took over. He lunged forward, snatching the puppy before it could meet its fate.
The car screeched to a halt. The driver's curses filled the air.
Heart pounding, the boy let go of the puppy and ran.
He didn't stop until he reached an abandoned school building, his usual hideout.
He had come here often for solitude, a place untouched by the world's noise. But today, he wasn't alone.
A voice, slow and drawling, broke the silence.
"Well, aren't you lively? Somethin' nice happen?"
The boy whirled around.
A man lounged atop a pile of broken chairs and tables, basking as if on a sunlit beach.
His Hawaiian shirt hung open, revealing a lean frame. Floral-print shorts and wooden sandals only added to his ridiculous appearance, yet there was an air of utter indifference about him—as if the world itself was of little consequence.
"Who are you?" the boy asked cautiously.
The man ran a hand through his coiled blond hair, his lazy smile never faltering.
"Dorian Everly. And you?"
"…Ashen Hart."
"Little Asher, huh?" Dorian mused. "You have interesting eyes. Molten gold… like the color of time."
Ashen stiffened. He turned to a shard of a broken mirror. The brown in his irises was gone, replaced by a haunting, golden hue.
His mind raced. The rewinding. The glimpse of the future. The impossible sensation that had followed him even as he ran.
Dorian chuckled, as if reading his thoughts. "You've got a lot to think about, don't you?" He stretched, yawning. "Go home, kid. Sleep on it. If you're still curious, come back tomorrow. Something interesting might happen."
Ashen hesitated, then nodded.
That night, he confirmed the truth—his ability wasn't a fluke.
It happened again and again.
A flicker of awareness, a whisper of time unraveling and stitching itself back together. A second's glimpse into the future, an existence where surprise no longer existed.
His mother's words, known before she spoke them.
His teacher's questions, answered before they were asked.
Every game, every competition—effortless victories that quickly turned stale.
It should have been a gift, but for Ashen, it was a curse.
The world had already begun to bore him. Now, it had lost its last shred of mystery.
Except for Dorian.
The strange man became his refuge. A constant in the chaos. Around him, the rewinding stopped. Around him, Ashen could breathe.
Dorian was more than an enigma—he was a well of knowledge, carrying the weight of years unspoken.
Conversations with him made Ashen's burdens feel small, his worries insignificant.
And so, he returned. Again and again.
Over the years, their meetings turned routine. Dorian shifted from a mystery to a mentor, from an uncle-like figure to something almost paternal.
Then, one day, he vanished. No warning. No farewell. Just… gone.
Ashen searched, but the world offered no answers.
The sudden loss almost broke him.
Time, however, is a quiet healer. Days bled into weeks, weeks into months. The years dulled the ache, burying Dorian's memory deep within his mind.
And, as all things do, life went on.
***
Rollhaven was an underground gambling den that never slept.
The air was thick with the constant clatter of buttons being pressed, dice rolling, and cards being shuffled. Whether it was day or night, the place always buzzed with the frantic energy of people chasing luck.
"..."
A young man sat slouched in front of the slot machine, a cigarette dangling lazily from his lips, its ember glowing faintly in the dim casino lights.
His fingers moved with absent-minded precision, pressing the spin button over and over, the mechanical chime of the reels blending into the endless drone of the casino floor.
His eyes, half-lidded and dull, barely followed the spinning symbols.
Wins and losses passed him by with the same indifference, as if neither mattered.
Smoke curled around his face, the bitter scent mixing with the stale air of desperation that clung to places like this.
Then—ding ding ding. A near-jackpot.
His fingers twitched, his breath hitched, and for a brief moment, his eyes gleamed with something like life. A flicker of anticipation, a heartbeat of excitement.
Then it faded, drowned beneath the weight of the inevitable. He exhaled a long drag of smoke, the glow of his cigarette matching the dying spark in his eyes, and pressed the button again.
*
"Hey, captain, are you sure we can be here? I'm kind of getting nervous…"
"Haha, Saya, trust the boss. Today's your birthday, so we should do something special, right?"
A group of young men and women strolled in, chatting and laughing as they made their way through the crowded room.
Their clothes, expensive and trendy, spoke of privilege, while their voices carried the carefree ease of youth.
The man called 'captain' grinned, throwing an arm around Saya's shoulders. "He's right, Saya. Relax and let me show you around."
But Saya's attention had drifted, following the blank gaze of a man hunched over a slot machine.
His movements were automatic, his focus lost somewhere far beyond the flashing symbols. The crowd's jovial chatter was a stark contrast to his deadened presence.
"That man looks kind of familiar…"
He followed her line of sight to the man.
"Him? Yeah, that's our academic prodigy. He graduated a couple years ago," the captain said with a smug grin.
Saya raised an eyebrow. "A prodigy? He doesn't seem like much of one."
The captain chuckled, leaning in closer. "Well, a more fitting term would be 'fallen prodigy'."
His eyes showed barely concealed envy as he explained to the girl,
"He was a genius—aced everything, from academics to sports. He even dated Alice Sinclair, our city's most famous businesswoman."
His voice took a sadistic glee that he tried but failed to mask.
"Four years ago, he cracked. Went off about knowing everything, how life was pointless. Since then, he's been coming to places like this every day. A few years later, he's a shadow of his former self."
Saya's jaw dropped. "That's... sad. Wait, that's Ashen Hart? The guy who is with Alice? The one everyone talked about?" Her voice was a mix of disbelief and awe.
"Yeah, that Alice. The one with the 'rockin' body,'" he added with a grin.
"Haha, captain, you're so bad!"
The laughter and teasing faded as they moved on, but the conversation hung in the air like a faint echo.
Ashen, however, barely reacted. He sighed, the sound lost in the crowd's noise.
'It's getting crowded… maybe I should just call it a day,' he thought, glancing at his phone. Several missed calls from Alice.
For a moment, his resolve wavered. But the thought of seeing her pulled him up from his stupor. With a quiet grunt, he stood, shrugged on his vest, and walked out of the casino, hailing a taxi back to his apartment.
**
Creeeaaak…
Alice Sinclair awoke to the sound of the front door creaking open.
The noise seemed to stretch in the silence of the night, louder than it should have been. She glanced at the clock—3:00 in the morning. There was only one person who would come at this hour.
With a sigh, she flicked on the lights and grabbed her half-rimmed glasses.
Her eyes drifted to a framed photograph on the nightstand, one she hadn't looked at in a long time.
In the photo, Ashen stood between two girls, his childhood self radiating the quiet confidence that once defined him.
To his left was Lapis Hart, his little sister, her mischievous grin and vibrant pink eyes as lively as ever.
To his right was Alice, her gaze filled with the wisdom of someone older than her years.
her long black hair cascading around her face, golden eyes softly mirroring Ash's own. Their bond, their happiness, had once been so palpable.
She shook off the bitter swell of feelings rising in her chest and silently wondered, Where did it all go wrong?
The bedroom door creaked open, dragging her from her thoughts.
Ashen stood in the doorway, his figure as numb as the man she'd seen from the photograph. She could hardly recognize him anymore.
"Sorry for waking you," He muttered upon seeing that she was up.
Alice just shook her head, taking a deep breath. She had planned to have this conversation tomorrow, but now was as good a time as any.
Ashen, noticing her serious expression, pinched the bridge of his nose, bracing himself for the inevitable lecture.
"Ashen, we need to talk."
"Can we not do this now…? Please."
Alice remained firm. "No. This time, you crossed the line."
Ash's body stiffened for a moment. 'What does she know?'
In moments like these, he wished for his rewind ability to come back even for a moment to at least be somewhat prepared for what was about to come next.
Sadly, it stopped working around a year ago.
"I don't understand…"
"You don't understand? Or are you pretending not to?"
Alice didn't allow him to answer as her emotions started getting agitated, remembering what insanity he took part in.
"Ash, I tolerated your antics no matter how reckless. When you created that survival challenge group—jumping off cliffs, diving into the deep sea, skydiving without proper safety—I begged you to stop, but you ignored me and I could only let it go. I told myself, at least you're still breathing."
She shivered as she remembered those days filled with constant scares.
Her voice wavered, but she pressed on. "When you got into gambling, to the point of getting addicted to it, I pleaded with you to stop. Cards, horse betting, the lottery, even spinning those damn gacha games at home—you never quit. I still tolerated it."
Now tears started streaming down her cheeks. Ashen could only stay silent with a head hung low. All her accusations are real after all. So what could he say? Does he even have the nerve to still defend himself?
"When you became an alcoholic, drowning in debt, when I had to pick up the pieces every time you shattered, I still believed you'd come back to me—to us. But this?" Her voice cracked. "Russian roulette, Ash? Really?"
Ashen's breath hitched. So she knows.
Even he wasn't sure how he'd been convinced by that bunch of daredevils that night. His intoxicated brain played a large part in it, that's for sure.
"Alice… I didn't know what I was getting myself into. C'mon, you know me. Even I wouldn't go that far. I can't leave you alone. I can't leave my family. It was just a mistake."
Alice, hearing the same old excuses, didn't explode as he expected. Instead, her expression hardened with a finality that sent ice through his veins.
"No… No Ash, I don't think I know you anymore."
A sinking feeling settled in his chest. Ashen Instinctively realized that things were headed in an unfamiliar direction. One that he didn't like at all…
Alice continued in a more resolute tone: "You don't seem to be changing no matter what. Whether it's a soft approach or a harsh one, nothing gets through. You find a way to cover everything with lies and indifference. My pleadings, screams, and tears were always brushed off, so maybe doing something in the opposite direction might jolt you awake."
*Wheeze*
Taking a sharp exhale, she spoke in a tone of finality.
"Ashen, Let's break up."
His heart slammed against his ribs. No. His voice came out rushed, frantic. "No, no, no! Alice, please. I promise this time—for real—I'll change. I'll never set foot in a casino again. Tomorrow, we can go to RollHeaven and apply for a permanent ban! Please…"
Alice remained unmoved as she changed out of her nightgown, not planning to stay there a second longer.
Seeing that he was completely ignored, Ashen gave a weary sigh. Then forced a bitter smile. "At least stay the night. Don't go out at this hour. Take it as my last request."
Without waiting for her answer, he turned and walked out, not noticing the look of deep grief on Alice's face.