*Ding Dong*
Seeing no one open the door, Austin asked," Is this the correct address, Mom?"
At the same time, the doorknob jerked around, as if someone was trying to open the door, not realising that the door was locked.
"Yup, that's dad," said Austin as the door opened a second later. Alan stood behind the door, slightly nervous and flustered as usual.
"Hey Judith, hi kids," said Alan. He gave Austin and Jake a quick hug. When he tried to do the same to Judith, she shirked away from his touch. Alan's heart fell at Judith's successful evasion of his attempt at physical contact. Trying not to show how much it impacted him, he said," Come on in. Charlie is still sleeping upstairs."
Judith stepped inside, critically viewing the bottle of wine and the glasses still partially filled on the table. "Alan, are you sure about this? You and Charlie are living together in this … house."
"It's fine, Judith. The house may look messy now, but Charlie does keep a clean living space. Besides, it's only temporary."
Austin observed the way Alan stepped back without getting too close, and the way Judith kept her arms folded like a shield. They weren't screaming at each other, but the gap between them was loud enough.
"Where's Uncle Charlie?" Jake piped up immediately, craning his neck to peer into the house.
Alan cleared his throat. "Uh, Charlie's… resting. Probably. Don't worry about it." He waved his hands as if that would somehow distract his son. "Why don't you two go upstairs and check out the room?"
That was all Jake needed. He bolted up the stairs, probably to wake Uncle Charlie up. Alan and Judith were still staring expectantly at Austin, waiting for him to follow his brother.
"I can tell when I am not needed," said Austin. He rolled his eyes at his parents, slid open the glass door to the deck, and walked out toward the ocean breeze.
The salty air hit him immediately, crisp and cool against his face. Austin leaned on the railing, gazing out at the Pacific. The waves glittered in the fading sunlight, rolling endlessly as if the inconveniences of the world—this life's parents' crumbling marriage, his brother's obliviousness, his uncle's drunken chaos—were nothing more than background noise.
Jake might be thrilled to be here, but Austin felt detached. He wasn't really a child like Jake, not on the inside. He carried memories, knowledge, and sarcasm from another life. To him, this wasn't a family drama. It was more like a neighbor's squabble, entertaining to watch, difficult to mediate. He exhaled, letting the breeze wash over him. For the first time all day, he allowed himself to relax.
Suddenly, he remembered something.
"System," he said quietly, just loud enough for the word to carry into the air.
Instantly, the faint blue screen shimmered into view before his eyes.
[INTERSTELLAR QUEST SYSTEM]
Planet: Earth
Last Check-in: 10 years ago (Birth)
Next Check-in: 12h 59m 41s
Austin sighed. 'Ten years in this new life, and all I've got to show for it is the most technologically advanced pair of sunglasses I can't even use. Great work, past me.'
[Interface Log: Earth Sign-In — Completed 10 years ago]
Reward Distributed: EDITH Glasses.
Description: Advanced artificial intelligence eyewear designed by a regretful arms-dealer turned superhero.
Austin pulled out the aviator-style glasses from the inventory and twirled them around with his fingers. The lenses were catching the last streaks of sunlight like they were mocking him. With a flick of his wrist, he slipped them back into the inventory, where they belonged — in the "Useless Trash" folder of his cosmic loot box.
He remembered the first time he'd put them on, five years ago. For the first five years of his new life, he left them safe in the System inventory. When he finally decided to try it out, he trembled with anticipation as the transparent lenses flashed holographic blue and his vision showed an advanced user interface, but to his surprise, the eyewear was already initialised to someone else. He tried telling it to rescan, but he was locked out due to 'too many failed attempts'.
The security protocols had escalated quickly afterwards. After a few failed attempts, the system had initiated a memory wipe, erasing access to all features and locking the interface permanently. Even the holographic overlay—the only part he could interact with—vanished entirely.
Austin had tried every trick he could think of: speaking to it, gesturing, even physically adjusting the frames like it was a faulty TV remote. Nothing worked.
Eventually, he had stopped trying. The memory wipe left him with nothing but a reminder of his failures and a lingering sense of cosmic mockery. He had cursed the isekai gods under his breath, muttering about how a "gift" from some higher level of existence could be worse than useless. At least the 'Truck' had the decency to give a higher chance of OP powers.
Now, the cycle was bound to repeat. Tomorrow, another sign-in. Another roll of the cosmic dice. If luck did not favor him, then there was nothing he could do about it.
…
Charlie groaned before opening his eyes, wishing he hadn't. Sunlight stabbed through the blinds, making his already pounding head throb like a drumline. The room smelled faintly of stale pizza, spilled beer, and… was that sunscreen? He tried to ignore it.
He squinted and saw Jake perched on the edge of the bed, staring at him like he'd just walked into a treasure chest.
"Boy, is your eye red," the kid said.
Charlie groaned and rubbed at his temple. "You should see it from in here," he muttered, rolling over onto his back and squinting at the ceiling. His hangover was a cruel combination of leftover wine, lack of sleep, and the echo of last night's romance. The girl's apartment—or was he in his house? He couldn't even remember.
"What are you doing here, Jake?" he asked finally, his voice hoarse.
"My mom brought me," Jake replied, hopping onto the bed like it was a trampoline. Charlie winced as the kid bounced lightly against his ribs.
Charlie groaned again, trying to tilt his head away from the sun.
Jake asked, "Will you take me swimming in the ocean?"
Charlie blinked. "Can we talk about it after my head stops exploding?"
Jake raised an eyebrow. "Why is your head exploding?"
"Well, I drank a little too much wine last night," Charlie admitted, and immediately regretted the honesty. His stomach twisted at the memory of the red wine he'd knocked back while trying to forget his own problems.
Jake tilted his head, frowning like he was trying to calculate the mysteries of the universe. "If it makes you feel bad, why do you drink it?"
Charlie groaned again, throwing a pillow over his face for dramatic effect. "Nobody likes a wiseass, Jake."
"But you said 'ass,'" Jake shot back. "$1 in the swear jar."
Charlie peered out from under the pillow, one eye squinting. He rubbed his temples again and shook his head. "Tell you what… here's $20. That should cover me till lunch."
Jake's grin split his face in half. "Cool!"
Charlie flopped back onto the mattress, closing his eyes and wishing he could do the same with reality. Between the sun, the mess, the noise, and the sudden presence of a child, he thought grimly that hangovers were the universe's least fair punishment.
Charlie sat up slowly, squinting through the sunlight and massaging the back of his neck. Every movement sent a spike of pain through his skull, like tiny little gnomes were playing cymbals on his temples.
"So… who else is here?" he asked, his voice gravelly, trying to get a sense of how much chaos he was walking into.
Jake bounced slightly on the bed, oblivious to the fact that Charlie felt like death warmed over. "Just us! Mom brought me and Austin," he chirped.
Charlie groaned again, flopping back against the pillows. "Austin… right. The other one. And where is he now?"
Jake shrugged," I dunno, I thought he would also come up with me."
Charlie dug through the messy pile of clothes in the closet, grimacing as the smell of old socks sprang on his face. Something familiar caught his eye: a pair of ladies' sunglasses, left on the nightstand. He picked them up, squinted at the sunlight, and shrugged. Why not? Anything to make the world less painful.
Come on, Jake," he groaned, "let's find your father."