It was late afternoon when Marco returned home from his long shift at the construction site. His back ached, his muscles throbbed, and his clothes were drenched with sweat, dust, and grime from hours of hard labor. He grunted, dropped his tool belt by the front door with a thud, and wiped his forehead with a crumpled handkerchief. His thick boots scraped the worn wooden floor as he walked into the house, looking forward to nothing more than a cold shower and a quiet evening in front of the TV.
As Marco made his way down the hallway, he noticed that the door to his son Carl’s room was slightly ajar. A beam of light spilled from Carl’s lab into the dim hallway. Marco frowned, his eyebrows knitting together in suspicion. “What’s that kid up to this time?” he muttered under his breath.
Carl was always tinkering with something in that lab of his, surrounded by gadgets and devices that Marco didn’t have the first clue about. His son was smart—way smarter than Marco had been at that age—but sometimes Carl’s inventions left him scratching his head. Every time he stepped foot in that room, it felt like walking into another world. Wires, circuit boards, and strange tech were always strewn across every available surface, leaving Marco wondering what went on in Carl’s mind.
“Carl, you in there?” Marco called as he stepped closer, peering into the room. No answer.
The place was, as usual, a cluttered mess of electronic components. Carl’s workbench was littered with half-assembled gadgets, some blinking with faint lights, others whirring quietly. The room buzzed with a low hum of technology that Marco didn’t understand. He stepped inside, careful not to trip over the maze of cables snaking across the floor. Carl was nowhere to be seen—probably out grabbing a burger with his friends. That was fine. Marco rarely interfered with Carl’s work, but he was curious. He liked to check in on what Carl was doing now and then, even if he didn’t get it.
Something on the desk caught his eye—a small, sleek device with glowing symbols. Marco’s brow furrowed as he picked it up. It wasn’t like anything he’d seen Carl working on before. The device fit comfortably in his large, calloused hand, and as he turned it over, he noticed the glowing alien-like markings etched into its smooth surface. It didn’t look like Carl’s usual projects—more advanced, almost otherworldly.
“What in the world is this?” Marco muttered to himself, squinting at the strange symbols. They didn’t make any sense, but they intrigued him.
Without thinking, his thick thumb pressed one of the buttons.
The room was suddenly engulfed in a bright flash of light. Marco yelped and dropped the device, stumbling back as if he’d been hit with an electric shock. The light was blinding, and his body tingled, as if tiny bolts of energy were coursing through his veins. For a moment, Marco thought Carl had rigged up some kind of prank—maybe one of those harmless shocks for laughs.
But something was different. As the light faded, Marco felt his entire body shift, as though his muscles were being pulled and stretched in all directions. His legs felt unsteady beneath him, and he grabbed the edge of Carl’s desk to keep himself upright. His clothes, suddenly, felt strange—tight in places where they hadn’t been before, loose in others.
“What the hell...” Marco mumbled as the tingling sensation spread through his chest, arms, and legs.
He glanced down and gasped. His shirt, which had hung loosely over his broad chest moments ago, now clung to him like a second skin. His arms bulged with thick, powerful muscle, veins snaking down his forearms. His biceps were larger than they’d ever been, swelling with strength that Marco hadn’t felt in years. The construction work kept him in decent shape for a 45-year-old, but this... this was something else entirely. His chest puffed out, stretching the fabric of his shirt, and his stomach, which had started to soften over the years, was now rock hard, with abs rippling beneath his skin.
His jaw dropped as he stumbled toward the mirror hanging on the wall. He barely recognized the reflection staring back at him. His graying beard had vanished, replaced by smooth, youthful skin. His face was younger, his features sharper, more defined, just like they had been when he was eighteen. But now, his body was far more muscular than it had ever been in his youth. He looked like a star wrestler, with broad shoulders, thick arms, and a chest that could barely fit into his shirt.
Marco blinked, disbelief washing over him as he ran his hands over his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his skin. “No way...” he whispered. “No way this is real.”
At first, panic set in. His heart raced as he looked around the room, trying to figure out what had just happened. Had Carl invented something to reverse aging? Was this some kind of temporary side effect? His mind raced with questions, but then, as he looked back at his reflection, his lips slowly curled into a smile.
He flexed his arms, watching as his biceps swelled, bigger than they’d ever been before. The panic began to fade, replaced by something else—a giddy sense of excitement. Marco chuckled to himself, turning this way and that in front of the mirror. His clothes were straining at the seams now, especially his shirt, which felt like it was about to rip at any moment.
Without hesitation, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and peeled it off, revealing his bare chest. He gasped. There, in the mirror, was an eighteen-year-old version of himself—only better, more muscular, more defined. His pecs were huge, his abs chiseled, his shoulders broad and powerful.
Marco couldn’t stop grinning. He ran his hands over his chest and abs, feeling the hard muscle ripple beneath his skin. This was insane. He had always been a strong guy, but now? He felt unstoppable.
“Look at me!” he laughed, flexing his arms and watching his biceps bulge. “I’m a freaking beast!”
He tried to remind himself that he was an adult, that he was Carl’s father and needed to stay calm and figure this out. But that sensible voice in his head was growing quieter by the second, drowned out by the giddy excitement bubbling up inside him. He felt young again—not just physically, but mentally, too. His thoughts were racing, his energy skyrocketing.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching. Carl was home. Marco’s eyes widened, and he quickly grabbed his shirt, throwing it back on and turning away from the door. His heart pounded in his chest, not from fear, but from anticipation. What would Carl say when he saw him like this?
The door creaked open, and Carl stepped in, his eyes immediately going to the hulking figure standing in the room. “Dad?” Carl’s voice was filled with confusion. “Is that... you?”
Marco turned around slowly, a wide grin spreading across his face. He let the shirt fall from his hands, revealing his massive, muscular frame. “What’s up, son?” he said, his voice deep and confident as he flexed his biceps.
Carl’s jaw dropped. “Dad? What... what happened to you?”
Marco chuckled, raising his arms and flexing them, watching the muscles swell. “A little accident with one of your gadgets, I think. But hey, I’m not complaining!” He laughed, his voice filled with youthful energy. “Look at me! I feel incredible!”
Carl stared at him in shock, trying to process what he was seeing. “But... but you’re younger! You’re... different!”
Marco shrugged, a playful grin on his face. “Yeah, I guess I am. But come on, kid—just look at these muscles!” He bounced his pecs, watching them dance in the mirror. “I haven’t felt this strong in years. Hell, I’ve never felt this strong!”
Carl’s eyes widened as he realized that something more than just Marco’s appearance had changed. His dad wasn’t acting like himself. There was a giddiness, an immaturity to his behavior that didn’t fit with the man Carl had grown up with. Marco flexed again, laughing as he admired his own reflection, seemingly oblivious to Carl’s concern.
“Dad, we need to figure out how to fix this,” Carl said, stepping forward, but Marco just waved him off.
“Fix it? Why would I want to fix it?” Marco said, bouncing his pecs again and laughing. “This is awesome! I feel like I could take on the world!”
Carl watched as his dad flexed and posed, showing off his new body with reckless abandon. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks—Marco’s maturity had shifted along with his body. He wasn’t just physically younger; he was acting like a teenager, too.
Marco turned to Carl, a mischievous grin on his face. “Hey, how about we hit the gym together, huh? I bet I could out-lift you now!” He flexed again, his muscles bulging, and laughed like a kid who had just discovered his new favorite toy.
Carl could only watch in disbelief as his dad, now a muscular eighteen-year-old, continued to show off, seemingly unconcerned about the drastic change.