1 Ch.1

"State your name and age for the record please," said the slim suited man from across the bare metal table. The man had a stern face with a gaunt, haunted look to him. The dim lighting from a bare bulb overhead didn't help either.

Anthony stammered, "M-my name is Anthony Guo, I'm 19 years old." He could feel his legs trembling against his seat, sweat trickled down his back. It was really damn stuffy in the room, he grumbled to himself.

"My name is Supervisory Agent Smith," the man continued, "Have you any idea why we've brought you here?" Agent Smith had his hands clasped together in front of him, exuding an air of superiority.

Anthony struggled to swallow, "No, sir," he whispered, his head beginning to duck down into his lap. He didn't know what was going on. One moment he was walking out of the college library, the next he was being stuffed into a van by three huge men in suits.

One of Smith's thin eyebrows rose in a look of what Anthony took to be feigned surprise. "You don't? Not even the slightest clue?"

Anthony shook his head vigorously. He racked his brain for anything that he had done in his life that might've angered the government. Wait. Why did he assume that they were the government? He'd never heard of the government nabbing people off the streets.

"Who are you?" Anthony asked. The words surprised even himself. He had always been a quiet, meek person; never one to question authority.

Smith broke into a thin smile. "No need to worry about that, what we are is none of your concern. What you are to us, however, is quite important." His hands were no longer clasped together. He splayed them out, each long finger like the spindly legs of a spider. "Tell me, Anthony, have you ever wanted to live another life? A better life, where you are stronger, smarter, richer, more handsome?"

Live another life? One that was better than his currently? Of course! He could feel the itch of one of his many pimples and the sweat that pooled in the crevices of his belly fat. His toes squirmed in his worn sneakers as he thought of all the things he had wanted in life. His family wasn't well off, his parents own a small bakery where they barely made ends meet. He wasn't smart, dropping out of his first semester of university to help his parents in their bakery. He wasn't ugly, but years of acne scars had left their toll on him.

Anthony nervously picked at the seams of his baggy jeans. He swallowed again. "Live another life? What do you mean by that?"

"It's simple," Smith explained, "You'd live a life as a better version of yourself; the dream "you" one could put it.

"How?" Anthony questioned. "This isn't one of those self-help programs, is it? 'Cause I think those are all a load of bullshit."

Smith gave him a glare, how dumb could a kid be? "If this were a self-help program you would not have been brought here in such secrecy. Besides, I think most would find you to be a lost cause. Dumb, fat, ugly, lazy; a closet nerd whose only interests are in video games," he sneered.

Anthony's eyes hardened. Even though what Smith had said was all true, he didn't like hearing such words. His fists tightened underneath the table. "How would you help me relive my life? There's no such thing as a time machine"

"No, you don't need to worry about it anymore, I'm sorry to have wasted your time here," Smith said flatly. He smiled inwardly, however. Here it comes, he thought.

The table rattled as Anthony slammed his fist down in fury. "Who are you guys? Kidnapping a law-abiding citizen off the street. I'll sue you for everything that you got. Fuck your stupid program, I demand to be released!" He began to push his seat back to leave.

Smith grinned. "Wait," he said. "Look at the table."

Anthony shuddered, his moment of rage had left him feeling empty. It was strange, he almost never got angry, even if the current situation was really grinding his gears. He looked down at the table and his eyes widen in shock. A large dent, the size of a baseball marked the otherwise smooth surface of the table. "I did that?" Anthony questioned.

Smith nodded. "That was you momentarily surpassing your limits as an E-1 to an E-3. The increase in strength was a byproduct of the fact."

What? E-1? E-3?

"What's E-1? What do you mean I surpassed my limits. Is-is this like a leveling system in a video game?" Anthony asked, the questions tumbling out of his mouth.

Smith said nothing, instead, he produced a sheet of paper and a pen from seemingly nowhere and set them in front of him. "Write a suicide note," he said. "Then I'll answer your question."

Anthony looked at him, a chill running down his spine, "Your kidding."

Smith gave him a stern look, "Do I look like I am?"

"No, but I won't write it."

"Why not?"

"How would my family feel? It would tear my parent's hearts. Besides I'm not planning on dying any time soon," Anthony muttered.

"Don't you want answers?" Smith asked.

Anthony thought for a bit, "Of course I do, but I don't think it's worth putting my parents in duress. To me, they are everything, no matter how much of a disappointment I might be to them."

"So you won't write it?"

"Yes," Anthony said firmly.

Smith was silent for a moment, "Alright." He got out of his seat and walked over to a door that Anthony just realized was there. He knocked once and the door opened immediately, a beam of light shining into the room.

"Again, my deepest apologies for any inconvenience that we might have caused. Daniel here will see you out," Smith said, gesturing to one of the two large bald men standing outside of the room.

Anthony sat stunned for a few seconds, was that it? He felt like there was something more to pursue like he was missing out on something big. But he was a good child, he didn't want to worry his mother or father any longer. He slowly got out of his seat and walked out of the room.

When Daniel and Anthony had rounded a corner to another hallway, Smith faced the other man, slipping him a folded note. "Make it look like suicide, preferably a car or a fall, kids seem to prefer that these days. Tuck this into his pocket and make sure the police can identify him."

The large man nodded and lumbered away to complete his task.

Smith stood there in the hallway for a second, smiling to himself. He had found a good candidate.