The Day Before I Died
Chapter 1 — The Day Before I Died
Lucian Veyron had exactly $18.43 left in his bank account when his life officially fell apart.
He stared at the number on his phone for several seconds.
AVAILABLE BALANCE: $18.43
Rent was overdue.
His credit card was nearly maxed out.
His refrigerator contained half a bottle of water, three eggs, and a container of takeout he wasn’t entirely sure was still safe to eat.
And twenty-seven minutes ago, Lucian had lost his job.
He lowered his phone and looked at the cardboard box sitting beside his feet.
Four years of his life fit inside it.
A coffee mug.
Two notebooks.
A cheap desk clock.
A framed photograph he hadn’t bothered looking at.
And a small plaque his company had given him last year.
OUTSTANDING EMPLOYEE — LUCIAN VEYRON
Lucian almost laughed.
“Outstanding.”
Rain hammered the sidewalk outside the office tower.
Behind the glass doors, people continued working as if nothing had happened.
That was the strange thing about losing everything.
The world didn’t stop.
Cars still moved.
Traffic lights still changed.
People still complained about coffee.
Somewhere, someone was probably celebrating a promotion.
Lucian picked up the box.
His phone vibrated.
For one stupid second, hope appeared.
Maybe his manager had reconsidered.
Maybe there had been some mistake.
Instead, the message was from his landlord.
MR. VEYRON,
I’VE GIVEN YOU ENOUGH TIME. IF THE RENT ISN’T PAID WITHIN THREE DAYS, YOU NEED TO VACATE THE APARTMENT.
Lucian closed his eyes.
“Of course.”
He stepped into the rain.
He couldn’t afford a taxi, so he walked.
His suit was soaked within minutes.
By the time Lucian reached his apartment building, his shoes made wet noises with every step.
The elevator was broken.
Naturally.
He climbed six floors carrying the cardboard box.
When he reached his apartment, he noticed something strange.
A pair of men’s shoes sat outside his door.
They weren’t his.
Lucian stopped.
His exhaustion disappeared.
He unlocked the door.
“Claire?”
Silence.
Then a muffled laugh came from the bedroom.
A man’s laugh.
Lucian stood motionless.
He didn’t need the World Value System.
He didn’t need supernatural intelligence.
He didn’t even need to open the bedroom door.
He already knew.
Still, he opened it.
Claire sat on the edge of the bed.
A man Lucian recognized stood beside the window, buttoning an expensive white shirt.
Damien Cole.
Vice president of the company that had fired Lucian less than an hour ago.
Claire’s face turned white.
“Lucian.”
He looked at Damien.
Then Claire.
Then the expensive watch sitting on the nightstand.
Something inside him became strangely quiet.
“How long?”
Claire stood.
“Lucian, please—”
“How long?”
She hesitated.
Damien answered for her.
“Four months.”
Claire turned sharply. “Damien!”
Lucian nodded once.
Four months.
His dismissal suddenly made much more sense.
Damien gave him a small smile.
“You should probably hear the rest.”
“Don’t.”
“You weren’t fired because of budget cuts.”
Lucian’s fingers tightened around the cardboard box.
Damien walked past him.
“You were becoming inconvenient.”
Lucian looked at Claire.
She couldn’t meet his eyes.
That hurt more than Damien’s words.
“Get out,” Lucian said.
Damien chuckled.
“This apartment isn’t going to be yours much longer anyway.”
Lucian dropped the box.
The coffee mug shattered.
For half a second, he wanted to hit him.
Instead, Lucian looked Damien directly in the eyes.
“Get out.”
Something in his voice erased Damien’s smile.
Claire grabbed her bag.
“Lucian, I never wanted you to find out like this.”
He laughed once.
It sounded empty.
“Was there a better way?”
She said nothing.
The door closed behind them.
Lucian remained standing.
Rainwater dripped from his coat onto the floor.
His job was gone.
His girlfriend was gone.
His apartment would be gone in three days.
And his bank account contained $18.43.
Lucian looked down at the broken mug.
“What exactly am I supposed to do now?”
No one answered.
The next twenty-four hours passed like a dream.
Lucian barely slept.
The following evening, he wandered through the city without a destination.
He had spent $3.50 on coffee.
His remaining wealth was now $14.93.
It was almost funny.
The rain had returned.
Lucian stood beneath the awning of a convenience store, watching traffic pass.
Across the street, a woman stepped out of a taxi.
She wore a white coat over blue medical scrubs.
Dark hair.
Exhausted expression.
A hospital identification card hung from her neck.
Lucian would later remember every detail.
Because ten seconds later, she stepped into the road.
A truck came around the corner.
Too fast.
The woman didn’t see it.
Lucian did.
“HEY!”
She turned.
Headlights filled the street.
Lucian didn’t think.
He ran.
His shoulder slammed into her.
The woman flew toward the sidewalk.
Lucian heard brakes scream.
Then—
impact.
Pain exploded through his body.
For a moment, he saw the night sky.
Rain fell toward him.
Or perhaps he was falling toward it.
He couldn’t tell anymore.
Someone screamed.
The woman crawled toward him.
“No! No, no, stay with me!”
Lucian couldn’t feel his legs.
Her hands pressed against his chest.
“I’m a doctor. Stay awake. Look at me.”
A doctor.
That was almost funny too.
Lucian tried to breathe.
Blood filled his mouth.
The woman’s eyes were wet.
“You saved me.”
Lucian looked at her.
He didn’t know her name.
He didn’t know why he had done it.
Maybe because for one second, there had been something he could still change.
His vision darkened.
“Don’t close your eyes!”
Too late.
Lucian Veyron died at 11:47 p.m.
With $14.93 in his bank account.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
Lucian opened his eyes.
He inhaled violently.
His body shot upright.
“AH!”
He grabbed his chest.
No blood.
No wound.
No pain.
Lucian stared around him.
His bedroom.
His apartment.
Morning sunlight entered through the curtains.
“What...”
He touched his face.
His arms.
His legs.
Everything was there.
Lucian grabbed his phone from the nightstand.
7:14 A.M.
Then he saw the date.
SEPTEMBER 18
His breathing stopped.
“No.”
He checked again.
September 18.
Yesterday.
The day he’d been fired.
The day he’d discovered Claire’s betrayal.
Lucian stood so quickly that the chair beside his bed fell over.
“This isn’t possible.”
He opened his banking app.
$18.43
His heart pounded.
He opened his messages.
The landlord’s warning wasn’t there.
Because it hadn’t been sent yet.
Lucian backed away from the phone.
“I died.”
He remembered the truck.
The impact.
The doctor screaming.
He remembered dying.
Lucian looked at the date again.
September 18.
Tomorrow night, at 11:47 p.m., he was supposed to die.
Then something appeared in front of him.
A translucent blue rectangle floated in the air.
Lucian froze.
Words slowly materialized across it.
[WORLD VALUE SYSTEM]
Initialization complete.
Lucian stared.
“What the hell?”
Another message appeared.
Every meaningful action has value.
Create value.
Gain rewards.
Change the world.
Become priceless.
Lucian reached toward the screen.
His fingers passed through it.
Then—
DING!
[FIRST MISSION GENERATED]
A photograph appeared.
Lucian’s blood ran cold.
Dark hair.
Tired eyes.
White doctor’s coat.
The woman from the road.
The woman he had died saving.
Text appeared beneath her photograph.
MISSION: SECOND CHANCE
Objective: Save Elena Cross from death before 11:47 p.m., September 19.
Reward: $100,000
Lucian stared at the reward.
One hundred thousand dollars.
Yesterday, he had eighteen dollars.
But another line appeared.
And this one made the money completely irrelevant.
Failure Penalty: Timeline Reset Terminated.
Lucian frowned.
“What does that mean?”
The system answered.
[Clarification Available.]
“Clarify.”
The screen changed.
You were granted one return.
Failure to alter the event responsible for your death will result in restoration of the original outcome.
Lucian felt cold.
“So...”
His voice became quiet.
“If I fail...”
The final message appeared.
[YOU DIE TOMORROW.]
