Michael Carter never expected to die on a Tuesday.
It started like any other day.
He left work late, tired and hungry, thinking about nothing more than getting home and eating something.
The street was quiet.
Too quiet.
Michael checked his phone while crossing the road.
Then—
A bright light.
A loud horn.
SCREECH.
He looked up.
A truck was speeding toward him.
"Wait—"
BOOM.
The world exploded into sound and metal.
Michael felt his body slam against the ground.
Pain shot through him like lightning.
Then everything became… quiet.
Very quiet.
Michael opened his eyes.
He was standing in the middle of the road.
The night air felt cold.
"…What just happened?"
People were screaming.
Someone shouted, "Call an ambulance!"
Michael looked around, confused.
Then he saw the crowd gathered a few meters away.
Curious, he walked closer.
When he reached the crowd, his heart nearly stopped.
A man was lying on the road.
Blood on the pavement.
Broken glasses.
Michael's glasses.
"…No."
He stared harder.
The man on the ground had his face.
His jacket.
His body.
Michael stepped back slowly.
"That… that's not me."
But deep inside, he already knew.
A woman nearby whispered, "Is he breathing?"
Another voice answered.
"Barely."
Michael tried to grab the man's hand.
His fingers passed straight through.
Cold fear crawled down his spine.
"I'm… dead?"
Suddenly—
A strange voice spoke behind him.
"Not yet."
Michael turned quickly.
A tall man in a dark coat stood near the streetlight.
No one else seemed to notice him.
The man looked calm… almost bored.
Michael swallowed.
"Who are you?"
The stranger checked a small watch.
"You have about six minutes left."
"Six minutes for what?"
The man smiled slightly.
"For the part most humans never remember."
Michael felt a chill.
"What part?"
The stranger's eyes glowed faintly in the dark.
"The moment when the soul decides where it belongs."
The ambulance sirens echoed in the distance.
And Michael suddenly realized something terrifying.
His body on the road…
had just stopped breathing.