Todd Williams stormed down the sidewalk, his jaw clenched so tight it ached.
The afternoon sun beat down on his back, but the heat did nothing to cool the rage boiling in his chest.
“That fucking Grayson.” The so-called nice guy everyone loved.
Todd had finally gotten his shot and what happened?
Mark just stood there like some kind of masochistic freak and asked him to hit harder and take his hits like nothing.
What a joke.
The embarrassment burned worse than any punch he’d ever taken in his after-school fights, kids whispering, girls laughing behind their hands.
His so-called friends giving him those pitying looks.
Todd kicked a loose rock into the street, watching it skitter across the asphalt.
“Thinks he’s hot shit just ’cause he’s got a little muscle now,” Todd muttered under his breath.
“I’ll show him. Next time I’ll—”
He never saw the car.
One second he was mid-step, fists balled at his sides.
The next, a deafening screech of tires, a blur of metal, and impact.
Pain exploded through his body like a grenade going off.
Bones cracked, the world spun.
Then everything went black.
______
White.
That was the first thing Todd noticed when consciousness returned.
A stark, sterile white ceiling with faint water stains in one corner.
The beep of machines.
The smell of antiseptic and cheap linen.
His body felt heavy, wrapped in bandages and aches that pulsed in time with his heartbeat.
“Where… am I?” he rasped, voice hoarse from disuse.
Before he could even try to sit up, something flickered in his vision.
Blue, glowing text materialized like a video game HUD.
[The Boys Template System has been activated]
[Past Memory: Unlocked]
[Template Roll: 1]
“What the fu—”
A stabbing pain lanced through his skull, worse than the car accident.
Todd gasped, hands flying to his temples as memories not his, but also his crashed into his brain like a freight train.
Flashes of a different life.
A harder life.
Boxing rings filled with sweat and blood, late nights watching old superhero movies and cartoons on a shitty couch, analyzing every punch, every heroic speech, every villainous monologue, women, losses, wins.
A life that ended at twenty-nine when another car slammed into him on a rainy night.
He remembered dying and now… this.
Todd huffed and panted, sweat beading on his forehead as the pain finally receded.
He lay there, chest heaving, staring at the ceiling while the new-old memories settled.
He was Todd Williams, eighteen years old.
High school asshole but he was also him, the boxer, the movie nerd, the man who’d lived and died and apparently gotten a second shot at existence in this body.
The memories had been locked away until now, like some cosmic safety lock.
“Reincarnation… for real?” he whispered, a shaky laugh escaping his lips.
“And I still got hit by a goddamn car. What god damn luck.”
He pushed himself up slowly, wincing as bruised ribs protested.
The hospital gown felt ridiculous on his frame.
His head throbbed, but his mind felt sharper than it ever had in this life.
Adult perspective overlaid on teenage hormones and impulses.
The door to his room swung open.
Two nurses hurried in, followed by a middle-aged doctor in a white coat holding a clipboard.
“You’re awake!” one nurse exclaimed, relief clear in her voice.
She moved to check the monitors.
The doctor approached the bed, shining a penlight into Todd’s eyes.
“Easy there, son. Can you tell me your name?”
“Todd Williams,” he answered steadily, voice already regaining strength.
The mature part of him took over, keeping his tone calm even as his mind raced.
“Good. Do you know what day it is? Who the current president is?”
Todd answered one correctly and one wrong, drawing on the blended memories.
The doctor nodded, satisfied but still cautious.
“You were brought in after a severe pedestrian-vehicle collision. You’ve been unconscious for five days. We were worried about swelling on the brain, but scans look stable now. Any nausea? Blurred vision? Memory gaps?”
“Five days?” Todd repeated, genuinely shocked.
He ran a hand through his messy hair.
Five whole days, school would’ve moved on, people would’ve talked, the principal probably didn’t even know or care.
The doctor continued, “Physically, you’re lucky. Some fractures, heavy bruising, but nothing permanent. We’ll keep you under observation for another day or two. I’ll have the nurses bring you some food and water. In the meantime, I’ll contact your mother. She’s been here every day.”
Todd nodded absently.
His mother.
This body’s mother.
Another layer of complicated feelings from the merged memories.
The medical staff bustled around for a few more minutes, checking vitals, adjusting IVs, before filing out, promising to return soon.
The door clicked shut, leaving Todd alone with the beeping machines and his racing thoughts.
He leaned back against the pillows, staring at his hands.
These hands had thrown punches in a ring in another life.
Now they belonged to a kid who just got his ass handed to him by circumstance again.
But something had changed.
That weird blue text.
The “Template System.” It felt real, not a hallucination.
Hesitantly, almost embarrassed at how cliché it sounded, he muttered, “Status.”
A new panel bloomed in his vision, crisp and glowing.
[Name: Todd Williams]
[Age: 18]
[Species: Human]
[Powers: None]
[Template Roll: 1]
[Note: You can only get a new template after you synchronized fully to the current template]
Todd’s lips curled into a slow, arrogant grin despite the hospital setting.
“There really is a system.”
He could feel excitement building, the same thrill he used to get before a big fight or watching a new episode drop.
“Alright, system. Show me what I’m working with, how do this work”