Roman stared at the calendar in disbelief.
June 7th.
Two months before the nuclear war.
Two months before the world burned.
His fingers gripped the edge of the desk. The calendar's numbers looked unreal — like something out of a dream.
No. Not a dream.
A second chance.
His hands trembled at first. His breath came in shallow gasps.
Was it real? Was he truly back?
But then the wave of shock passed, and clarity returned.
Everything had reset.
But his memories remained.
Every betrayal. Every scream. Every face twisted in horror. Every moment of humiliation, pain, and despair — still fresh, still sharp.
Roman felt them like fresh scars.
He walked slowly to the mirror across the room.
His reflection stared back at him.
But the boy in the mirror was not the same Roman.
His eyes no longer held innocence.
They glowed faintly — a trace of divine light, gifted by the Goddess Mother who had pulled him back from the demon's jaws.
But behind that divine glow...
A shadow pulsed.
A deeper, older hunger.
Primal.
It wasn't just about surviving anymore.
It was about domination.
Control.
Vengeance.
He wasn't going to just live through the apocalypse.
He was going to rise.
Conquer.
Make the world kneel.
Not from a throne.
From the shadows.
Roman grinned slowly — a grin that carried madness and genius.
But first...
He had unfinished business.
His so-called family.
His backstabbing girlfriend.
The ones who used him. Betrayed him. Broke him.
They thought the world would end and they'd never face the consequences.
They were wrong.
They would suffer.
And they would never forget.
He sat down on his bed.
Closed his eyes.
Let the rage simmer into focus.
Ideas swirled in his mind — dark, twisted, brilliant.
Revenge was not just violence.
It was art.
An evil grin formed on his lips — slow and sharp.
The kind of grin that would make children cry and grown women scream.
But he couldn't rush.
He had to be careful.
Very careful.
One wrong move, and everything would fall apart.
This time, he had to play it right.
Every step.
Every piece.
Calculated.
But plans required power.
And power required resources.
He needed money.
And right now, he had none.
But Roman knew things.
Secrets.
Hidden places. Habits. Weaknesses.
He stood up and walked toward the hallway.
First target — his stepmother.
She thought herself clever, hiding her secret stash behind the portrait of her dead mother.
But Roman had seen her once, late at night, slipping a few bills into the hidden pocket behind the frame.
Second — his arrogant stepbrother.
Always acting like a king, flashing cash and swagger.
But he hid his extra money in a fake-bottom drawer. Roman had discovered it accidentally once while cleaning.
Third — the man who used to be his father.
The one who turned his back on him.
He kept emergency cash in a locked safe under his bed, using the same stupid passcode — his birthdate.
Roman smirked.
He'd take just enough from each of them.
Not enough to be noticed.
But enough to start.
The beginning of an empire.
But that was only the foundation.
He needed a way to multiply that money.
A way to leap ahead of the world.
Roman opened his old laptop, wiping the dust from its surface.
It powered on. Slow, but reliable.
He logged in and began typing rapidly.
First — check the date.
Exactly where he thought he was.
Two weeks from now, the U.S. presidential elections.
Donald Trump would shock the world and win again.
The markets would explode.
And in that chaos, certain cryptocurrencies would surge.
Roman remembered them clearly.
One in particular — "Trump Kryipto."
It would spike 24,000 times in value — but only for sixty seconds.
Most wouldn't even notice it in time.
But Roman would.
He wrote down the exact second it would peak.
And then there was the other one...
"MetaKillz420."
A joke coin. Everyone laughed at it.
Until a false report of a meager between two world's largest metal company came,as they will work on a new project together to invent a new metal adamantium,which will be stronger than vibrabium but lighter by 10 times
That coin would explode.
420,000 times its value.
But only for ten seconds.
After that, it would collapse back to nothing. As both companies Denies it.
Most people missed the window.
Roman wouldn't.
He planned to catch it with precision.
It wouldn't just make him rich.
It would make him untouchable.
From poor and broken...
To a shadow king.
He leaned back, breathing deeply.
He could already see the chaos unfolding in his mind.
Cities burning.
Governments collapsing.
People screaming.
And in the middle of it all...
Him.
Pulling the strings.
Feeding the chaos.
Rising in power while others drowned in despair.
He would carve a century for himself in the ashes of humanity.
No more begging.
No more bleeding.
No more being used.
He was the one in control now.
He looked at his reflection again.
Not just a boy anymore.
A god in the making.
He whispered, almost reverently:
"Let the game begin."
------------------------------
And somewhere deep in the universe — something ancient shuddered.
A shadow stirred.
It sensed Roman's return.
And it was afraid for the first time.
As the old timeline was crumbled beneath the divine hand of the Goddess Mother, the threads of fate twisted and rewove themselves.
A new timeline was being born.
The world spun again, but differently.
And at the very center of this intricate web of destiny stood one man:
Roman.
No longer a victim.
No longer the boy who begged for scraps of love or clung to false hope.
Now, he was something else entirely.
A shadow touched by divinity… and scarred by demonic hunger.
He was both weapon and wielder.
The Goddess had reshuffled the pieces.
She thought she had restored balance.
But she hadn't realized what she had unleashed.
Because Roman remembered everything.
And he had no intention of playing by the old rules.
The world would change — not from divine will, but from his.
Power would shift.
And monsters… would become gods.
A brutal game of ambition, betrayal, lust, and twisted loyalty was about to begin.
A game that would challenge the very balance of the cosmos.
Lines would blur.
Right and wrong would become meaningless.
Love would be used as a weapon.
And Roman?
He wouldn't just survive the chaos.
He would orchestrate it.
He would dance in the fire.
And the world… would bow.
Whether it wanted to or not.
======≠====================
Author's Note:
Roman has chosen the dark path. The world will burn again... but under **his** rule this time.
If you're enjoying the chaos, don't forget to:
- 🔥 Drop a Power Stone
- ✍️ Leave a review
- 💬 Share your thoughts in the comments
Your support helps the story rise — and ensures Roman doesn't come after *me* for stopping. 😂
See you in the next chapter!
—Author