Chapter 4: Stars, Stats, and a Side of Solitude

While I was still digesting the whole "you're a time traveler with locked powers" bombshell, the man casually added,

"Before you ask how you'll return to your time—don't. Since you can't consciously control your powers yet, my estimate is that your subconscious will pull you back… on the day you were born."

I blinked. "You mean... December 19th?"

He shook his head. "Not the date—the constellation. Your return is tied to the stars, not the calendar."

Oh, good. As if things weren't vague and mystical enough already.

---

It's been a few days since that conversation.

I've been stuck on the same floor he brought me to after our little time-and-space therapy session. It's fully equipped—bedroom, bathroom, library, even a gym—but the place still feels like the opening scene of a post-apocalyptic game. The kind where you wake up alone, explore sterile white hallways, and eventually realize everyone's either missing or mutated.

Okay, maybe that's dramatic. But after what's happened, I think I've earned a little melodrama.

I keep hoping I'll return to the moment before that damn meeting. Can't believe I'm still hung up on that. But hey, rent waits for no one—not even time travelers.

As for this place... It's oddly ordinary now. No futuristic furniture. No mind-reading chairs. No glass panels simulating sunlight underground. Just regular, boring décor.

Almost too regular.

The only other presence here is Callion—the butler who appears whenever I say his name, like some classy genie in a waistcoat. I'm starting to suspect he's bound to this floor like a summoned NPC. The moment I think about him, bam, he's there. Efficient. Creepy. Kind of comforting.

---

Since I've got time to kill (and apparently stats to grind), I've been hitting the gym. Literally. I nearly punched a treadmill after it betrayed me with incline mode.

But hey, my Endurance stat finally moved a bit. Tiny progress is still progress.

Knowledge? Still stuck. I've read five books—two of them twice—and nothing. Maybe I'm reading the wrong genre.

Random fact I picked up in the process:

If exposed to outer space without a suit:

You won't explode.

Your blood won't boil.

But you'll pass out in 15 seconds, and die in 90.

Cheerful, huh? I'm not laughing. I swear. I'm just... losing it a little.

---

It's nearly dinnertime. I should go before Callion decides to teleport into my room again like he's auditioning for a magician's guild.

Sure enough, as soon as I stepped into the dining room—whoosh—there he was. Silently setting the table like an elegant ghost. He even pulled the chair out for me.

The food was humble—just warm dal, rice, and sabzi. But honestly? It felt like a feast. When you live alone in a city that runs 24/7, meals like this become rare. I'd forgotten how calming it is to eat food that wasn't microwaved or labeled "instant."

My stomach full and my limbs heavy, I skipped my nightly reading quest and collapsed into bed.

---

Midnight struck.

A familiar surge of light engulfed me again—quiet, humming with strange energy. The same pull I'd felt the night I was thrown into the future.

---

Beep-beep-beep.

My alarm clock blared like it was mad at the world.

I sat up, dazed, blinking at the familiar sight of my tiny room—dusty shelf, buzzing fan, and my laptop flashing reminders about the pending meeting.

I reached for my phone. The date read: December 19th, 2029. 7:30 AM.

So... I was back. And—wait...

"December 19th?" I whispered. "Of course. I was born exactly at midnight. It was already the 19th when I entered this world."

That meant the constellation alignment must've triggered the return, just like he said.

I stared at the ceiling, stunned for a moment, then leapt out of bed.

"The meeting!"

Time travel powers, mystery threads, stats and secrets—I could process all that after I made it to work.

Right now, I needed to get dressed, run like hell, and survive reality first