Prologue

You know how they say your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die? Yeah, that didn't happen to me. Instead, I got a slow-mo replay of all my screw-ups, the times I chose ambition over friends, and all the moments I could've been kind but wasn't. Looking back, all the trophies and promotions felt pretty empty. It was just me, regretting the big stuff and sweating the small stuff, all at once.

Death wasn't the dramatic exit I expected. It was more like slipping out the back door at a party—quiet, unnoticed, and oddly peaceful. And then, bam, this intense light show that felt like it was ripping me out of my sneakers and tossing me into the unknown.

And waking up was definitely not what I expected. Imagine my surprise when I realized I wasn't just elsewhere; I was elsewhen—and as a baby, no less. Yep, full-on diaper-wearing, can't-even-hold-my-own-head-up baby. Talk about a hard reset.

At first, I thought it was a joke, some cosmic prank. But as days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, the reality of my situation began to sink in. I was getting a second shot at life, a chance to start from scratch. And let me tell you, babyhood's a wild ride when you've got the mind of an adult. Every gurgle and babble was a reminder of the do-over I'd been handed.

But here's the kicker—I was scared. Not of diaper changes or toddler tantrums, but of the big guns: gods, fate, the universe... whatever you want to call it. The thought that some divine being might notice me, realize their mistake, and flick me back to my old life like a bug? Terrified me. So, I kept my head down, even as a kid. I figured if I could just fly under the radar, maybe I could avoid any celestial attention and stay in this new world.