A twenty-year-old man woke up slowly from his heavy slumber. Fluttering his eyelashes from the intense light the poured out of his bedroom curtains, he groaned and lifted the covers over his head to cover the sunlight.
He clenched his eyes tightly for a few seconds, before quickly opening them and shoving off his covers.
Oliver's brown hair was in a complete mess, drool adorned the side of his chin and his dark hazel eyes were dazed at his current situation.
He used his thin, pale hands to pat his cheeks as if affirming his own physical existence before reaching down to grasp his own neck with both hands. Feeling his own harsh breath rushing through his throat, Oliver was filled with delight.
He was alive.
It was unbelievable.
Oliver was a hundred percent sure that he was a goner. The moment that he transported himself into his dimension, he was already on the verge of death, or rather, he had died within his space. He could remember his own last breaths and last thoughts- well, let's not remember those for now.
How was he alive? And why was he here? He had a little absurd idea, but it was a bit too much for him.
Bringing his hand rub his eyes, Oliver noticed that his hands were pallid and smooth. Unlike his usual hands that were calloused and tanned from always working outside.
Completely shaking off any leftover sleepiness, he quickly stood from his bed and nearly lunged for his phone that was laying on the nightstand.
The date was August 15, 20XX.
Three years. He traveled back three years. That meant he was twenty years old again!
Not any date from three years ago, it was the day before the apocalypse.
That tiny, crazy thought that he originally pushed aside remerged even stronger within his mind: His space had saved him. Oliver intuitively knew that when he died in his space, he was saved by his own powers.
Oliver's move to die by his own space ability was not uncommon amongst space ability users. When these people have little to no option when choosing between dying in the jaws of zombies or the hands of former comrades, it would always seem best to die in a more dignified and peaceful manner: asphyxiation in the space.
Keeping live animals in the space to raise was always a dream for all people, however, a dream was a dream. After numerous attempts by most space ability users, it was pretty much confirmed that the animals that enter would perish from suffocation.
So, the question remained: why did he live, plus, come back in time?
Although the question was not currently important as the zombie apocalypse was going to start within 24 hours, Oliver could not help but remain on the question.
He had a theory: His powers were always more developed or advanced compared to other space ability users. When he died, his body was most likely absorbed by his space and thus, his crystal core that was embedded in his brain was also absorbed. His ability then made unexpected leaps and bounds from the human imagination. As a famous scientist once believed, space and time were intimately connected. So, his powers allowed him to transport himself back into time.
Oliver sighed and patted his back in self-congratulation. Since he had around 24 hours before the apocalypse, he better start to stockpile. Before that...
The young man ran into the bathroom to gaze into the mirror.
"Che."
His face was still the same, with no sudden improvement in the looks department. Dull brown hair, pale skin, and average facial features, his only good point were his eyes. Not that they were a noticeable color, his eyes were simply too lively to ignore. Other than that, his looks screamed "Neet" or "Otaku." He just stayed inside too much.
Despite his initial malcontent, he gave a mischevious smile to himself.
"Time to start again."