Chapter 1 — The Accident
Mornings at Westbridge University always smelled faintly of burnt coffee and wet asphalt.Ethan Rivers told himself he liked that smell. It was honest. It didn't pretend to be anything other than what it was—slightly bitter, slightly stale, a perfect metaphor for his life.
He adjusted the strap of his backpack and crossed the main quad, earbuds in but not playing anything. Music felt like effort today. Thinking felt like effort. Existing felt like scrolling endlessly through a feed that never loaded.
Psych 101 was in twenty minutes, but he wasn't in a rush. Attendance was optional, and his professor's monotone could cure insomnia. He'd planned to grab a muffin, sit under the elm tree, and wonder again why he was paying forty grand a year to learn that people have feelings.
That's when he saw the crowd of morning students cutting across the street ahead, phones out, heads down, the usual zombie parade. Sunlight flashed off parked cars, and a delivery van rumbled up the hill toward the campus café.
He kicked a pebble across the sidewalk and muttered, "Another day in the social experiment."
A girl's laugh drifted from somewhere behind him—bright, effortless. He glanced over his shoulder without meaning to.
Blonde hair. Oversized gray hoodie. Earbuds dangling now that she was talking into her phone camera, walking backward for a livestream or story clip. Her smile caught the morning sun like glass catching fire.
He almost called out, watch the road, but stopped himself. Not his problem. People did dumb things on campus every day. Natural selection needed the occasional warm-up.
Then he heard it—an engine downshift, a harsh rev that didn't belong to the lazy morning traffic.Ethan looked up the street.
A white delivery van was barreling down the hill, front bumper rattling, tires already squealing as it blew through the red light at the crosswalk. The driver's face flashed pale behind the windshield, eyes wide, both hands jerking at the wheel.
Ethan froze for half a heartbeat. The girl hadn't even turned around yet.
"Hey!" he shouted—but she didn't hear him.
The van lurched closer, the whine of brakes too late, too sharp.
Ethan didn't think. He just moved.
Time fractured into flashes: the thud of his shoes on pavement, the wind slicing his ears, the driver's mouth opening in a silent curse. His pulse roared louder than the engine.
A coffee cup tumbled from someone's hand.A pigeon exploded upward, wings scattering sunlight.The girl's head began to turn, confusion dawning.
Too close.
He hit her harder than he'd meant to—full-body, shoulder to chest. The impact knocked the air from his lungs and sent her spinning out of the lane. She crashed onto the damp grass, phone skidding away, screen shattering in a burst of light.
Ethan stumbled a step after her, off-balance, momentum carrying him forward—straight into the street.
He had just enough time to see the van's grill fill his vision, black and gleaming, before instinct made him throw up an arm.
Then everything went white.
*******************************
Silence.
Not the usual kind—the background hum of electricity or air—but real silence. Weightless. Boundless. The kind of quiet that could swallow thought.
He opened his mouth. No air. No heartbeat. No pain. Just awareness floating in static.
So this is dying.He'd expected terror, but what he felt was dull curiosity, the detachment of someone watching his own accident on replay.
Figures I'd die saving someone I don't even know, he thought—and then, half-bitter, half-amused—wait… was that Ava Monroe?
Of course it was. The Ava Monroe—track-team golden girl, campus influencer, face of three student-magazine covers. He'd seen her across the quad plenty of times, never said a word. And now he'd apparently thrown himself in front of a van for her.
Typical Ethan Rivers move: zero long-term planning.
Light pulsed at the edges of the whiteness. Then came a sound—soft at first, like a phone notification miles away.
ding… ding… ding.
He frowned—or thought he did. The pings multiplied, layering until they formed a rhythmic cascade.
[System Boot Sequence Detected][User Identified — Rivers, Ethan L.][Status: Critical — Biological activity suspended]
His nonexistent stomach dropped. "What the hell …"His voice echoed thin and metallic.
[Installing Dating Protocol v1.0][Primary Objective: Reestablish Connection]
For one absurd second he thought: Huh... Heaven has patch notes.
Then the white space shimmered; faint blue lines flickered like code dissolving in water.
He tried to speak again—but pain slammed into him instead.
Sound and gravity came back all at once.
Air tore into his lungs like glass. Someone was shouting. His ribs screamed each time he tried to breathe.
Sunlight—real sunlight—flared overhead, framed by a ring of faces. Voices blurred together.
"Call 911!""He's breathing!""Don't move him!"
He tried to move anyway. Bad idea. Fire spread through his chest.
A small, trembling hand grabbed his. "Hey—hey, don't move!" a voice said near his ear. "You're okay. Just breathe, please."
He turned his head and saw her.
Ava Monroe knelt beside him, hair loose now and tangled with grass, green eyes wide and wet. Tears were streaming down her face smearing her making up. The left knee of her jeans was ripped; there was a smear of dirt on her cheek. Her hands—small, shaking—pressed lightly against his arm.
"You—" His voice came out rough. "You're … okay?"
She nodded too fast, tears streaking down her face. "You idiot! Why would you do that? You could've died!"
He tried for a grin, but it hurt too much. "Not... dead.. yet" he whispered
"Don't—don't joke." She pressed her sleeve to his forehead, frantic, half-sobbing. "Just stay with me, okay? Please? Help is coming, so just say with me."
He wanted to tell her he was fine. He wanted to say something clever, something to make her stop crying.Instead, his body decided it was done.
His eyelids felt heavy. The edges of his vision folded inward, turning everything gray. Her voice blurred with the sirens closing in.
"Stay with me! ...Hey! Please help!"
He caught one last flash of her—sunlight on blonde hair, tears bright as glass—and thought, guess I really did save her... she sure isbeautiful.
Even dying his thoughts weren't serious, indeed he was thinking about how even with Ava's tear streaked face and smudged make up she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.
As she was slipping in and out of focus he managed wo whisper his last thought out loud. "...Beautiful."
Then the world narrowed and darkness overtook him.The faintest flicker of blue text drifted through the dark behind his eyes.
[System Online — Stand by for Initialization]
And Ethan Rivers slipped back into nothing.