Chapter 1: The Accident

Shubham Kapoor sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the framed photograph on his bedside table. It was from his high school days, showing him in mid-air, dunking a basketball with a triumphant grin on his face. It seemed like a lifetime ago, a moment of pure elation now tainted by the harsh reality of the present.

At twenty-five, Shubham was no longer the star athlete he once was. The bright future he had once envisioned for himself had been abruptly derailed by an accident—a twisted ankle, an unexpected collision, and a career-ending injury that had left him watching from the sidelines rather than leading from the court. Every time he thought about it, a pang of regret sliced through him.

He rubbed his face with both hands, trying to shake off the remnants of his frustration. The room was filled with the usual clutter of a life stuck in limbo: old trophies gathering dust, a basketball with a deflated spirit, and a pile of unopened mail. His phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling him out of his thoughts.

The message was from Aisha Verma, a sports journalist he had met during his short-lived comeback attempts. She had been a source of support and sometimes, unintentionally, comic relief.

Aisha: "Still up? Thought I'd check in. Have you seen the latest game stats? We should catch up soon. - Aisha"

He typed a quick reply, not really sure what to say. "Hey Aisha, just lost in thought. Stats look promising, but I'm not sure if I'll make it to the next game. Maybe we can catch up soon."

As he put his phone down, a soft knock on his door interrupted his solitude. His younger sister, Priya, poked her head in. At seventeen, she was an energetic whirlwind of curiosity and enthusiasm.

"Bro, you still awake?" Priya asked, her eyes wide with concern. "I thought you'd be getting some rest before your therapy session tomorrow."

Shubham forced a smile. "Yeah, just thinking about stuff."

Priya walked over and sat next to him. "You know, Dad's been talking about how much he misses going to your games. And Mom keeps organizing these little pep talks for you. They just want you to get back on track."

Shubham sighed. "It's not that simple, Priya. It's not just about getting back on track. It's about—"

Before he could finish, the room was bathed in an eerie, pulsating light. Shubham looked up, his eyes widening in disbelief as a transparent screen materialized in front of him. It was like something out of a science fiction movie—an ethereal interface that seemed to float in mid-air.

Screen: "Would you go back to the past and chase that dream of yours? Yes/No"

His heart raced. It was impossible—completely absurd—but the question was right there, taunting him with the opportunity to rewrite his past mistakes.

Priya noticed the look of shock on his face. "What's wrong, Shubham?"

He couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen. It was as if time itself had paused, offering him a chance to undo everything that had gone wrong. He could go back to when things were still within his control, to a time when his biggest worry was making the final shot in a game, not the looming specter of missed opportunities.

After a moment of hesitation, Shubham's hand reached out, almost involuntarily, and hovered over the "Yes" option. He glanced at Priya, who was now staring at the screen with a mixture of confusion and concern.

"What's happening, Shubham?" she asked.

He swallowed hard, his decision weighing heavily on him. "I don't know yet," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "But I think I need to find out."

With a deep breath, he tapped the "Yes" button. The screen flickered and then vanished, leaving him alone in the dim room, the promise of a second chance hanging in the air.

Priya looked at him, bewildered. "What did you just do?"

Shubham stood up, determination etching across his face. "I just made the biggest decision of my life. I'm going back, Priya. I'm going back to where it all began."

As he prepared for the unknown journey ahead, Shubham felt a mixture of fear and exhilaration. He had been given a chance to reclaim his dreams, to right the wrongs of his past. All he had to do now was seize it.