Even Ethan himself didn't know why — or how — he, a man living in New York in 2023, suddenly found himself in America in 1975.
It had happened two months ago. And now, somehow, he was Ethan Jones.
The last thing he remembered from his original life was walking to work, as usual. It was a typical morning — until a sudden commotion snapped him out of his routine.
Someone nearby shouted that a bank had bankrupt — one of those Silicon Valley banks that only dealt with institutional clients. People were panicking. Rumors flew: deposits frozen, accounts wiped, and someone was about to jump off a building.
Curious, he turned toward the source of the noise — just in time to see a shadow growing rapidly in his vision. A falling figure. Too fast to move, too surreal to process.
And then— Darkness. Silence. Then....He had awakened in a different time, in a different body, with a different name — Ethan Jones.
At first, Ethan had been excited. A second chance! The kind of "life restart" people only dreamed about.
But that thrill didn't last long. After understanding situation of the man whose life he'd now inherited, his excitement quickly faded.
Because this Ethan Jones? His story was anything but It was a tragedy.
Ethan Jones was born in Santa Clara County, California, in 1955. His mother was a tenured university professor, and his father a career soldier — the kind of stable, respectable family one might expect to lead a peaceful, secure life.
But fate had other plans. When Ethan was nine, the Gulf of Tonkin incident escalated U.S. involvement in Vietnam. His father was deployed to the front lines in Cochinchina.
A year later, while covering the evacuation of his comrades in the Đắk Lăng Valley, his father sustained severe injuries and later died of infection during treatment.
The news shattered their home. Ethan's mother, unable to bear the loss, fell into depression. Within the year, she too passed away — leaving Ethan orphaned at the age of ten.
Tragic, yes. But what truly stung was how the country treated his father's death.
Because his father hadn't died directly on the battlefield, but instead from complications after evacuation, his name wasn't included among the 58,315 confirmed war dead.¹ This technicality disqualified Ethan's family from receiving the highest level of compensation provided to fallen soldiers' families.
Had his father's death been officially recognized, the family would have received nearly $1,000 in burial benefits, a one-time pension close to $30,000, and an eight-year annuity paid by a government insurance company. Life insurance would have brought in an additional $90,000. Children of the deceased were also eligible for living stipends — around $1,000 annually — along with monthly allowances scaled to national income levels.
But for families like Ethan's, whose loved ones were deemed "unconfirmed," the benefits were a fraction of that. A few thousand dollars. No long-term pension. Life insurance slashed due to the technical cause of death.
Still, despite losing both parents and being failed by the system, the Ethan Jones did not fall into the counterculture. He didn't join any hippie collectives or radical anti-war groups. He didn't protest, or fall into drugs and disillusionment.
Instead, he endured. He completed junior high and high school, kept his head down, and eventually landed a marketing job at the California branch of Magnavox.
Life had knocked him down early, but he stood back up — quietly, stubbornly.
The first task Ethan received at Magnavox, under the guidance of his superiors, was to send invitation letters to prominent figures in the video game industry. These letters invited them to attend the company's upcoming product launch — a historic moment in which Magnavox would unveil the Odyssey, the world's first commercial home video game console.
It was supposed to be a proud milestone. But what followed was a regrettable twist.
While drafting the invitations, Ethan had, perhaps too casually, included a name that would change everything: Nolan Bushnell.
Bushnell attended the launch event. Not long after, he blatantly copied the built-in table tennis game featured on the Odyssey and developed it into a coin-operated electronic arcade game called Pong.
That "little" game exploded in popularity. Soon after, Bushnell founded Atari, a company that would go on to redefine the video game industry. Within just two years, Atari rose from nothing to earn millions of dollars — all on the back of an idea many believed was born at Magnavox.
When Ethan Jones — the one from this timeline — realized the consequences of that one invitation, he lived in fear. Depressed and consumed by guilt, he eventually died in silence, never truly defending himself.
But now, the only one left to carry the burden… is Ethan — the new Ethan. The one from 2023.
And to him, this entire scandal is absurd. Ethan had lived through the Internet age, the era of open knowledge and rapid iteration. He understood the nuances of intellectual property, the complexity of innovation, and — most of all — the ruthless blame-shifting tactics of capitalism.
Hold someone accountable for sending an invitation letter?
Call a competitor's success a loss for your company?
It was laughable. To Ethan, it was clear: this wasn't justice. This was just a company trying to dump its own strategic failure on a low-level marketing employee — all to avoid admitting that they'd handed a golden opportunity to the competition and failed to follow through.
So, why should he accept the blame? He wouldn't. What a joke! If that logic held, then anyone claiming their gender is an aircraft carrier should be able to float, launch jets, and get fitted with nuclear reactors.
Yet America still struggles to maintain even a decent USS Ford! If words alone could shape reality, the world would be overrun with nuclear-powered money printers by now.
While mentally ranting about this absurdity, Ethan Jones made his way to the parking lot of Magnavox and found his beat-up Chevrolet. He had bought the second-hand car for $500 shortly after "arriving" in this timeline.
Now, with his severance safely in hand — $2,320 — he drove straight to Wells Fargo Bank, the most powerful bank in the area, and deposited the check.
Even though the money was compensation for being terminated, it was still taxable. In America, this type of severance — technically punitive damages from the employer — isn't subject to social security tax, but income tax still applies.
Thankfully, America's tax system only requires filing for the previous year's income before April 15th, and the former "Ethan Jones" had already taken care of last year's return. So, the rest could wait until next tax season.
Back in the car, Ethan swung around and stopped at a Kroger supermarket, one of the largest chains in America.
There, he picked up:
Four dozen eggs at 77 cents per dozenFive pounds of bread at 28 cents a poundSix pounds of beef at $1.39 a poundTwo two-gallon barrels of milk at $1.57 per gallon
With California's 6.5% sales tax, the total came to around $17.
Groceries packed, he got back behind the wheel and headed south toward Los Gatos, his current place of residence.
Magnavox's California branch was in Fremont, Alameda County — only about 30 miles from Los Gatos in Santa Clara County. A quick ride down Highway 880 could get him home in about forty minutes.
By the time the clock struck noon, Ethan's Chevy rolled to a stop in the peaceful little town of Los Gatos — population just under 20,000. He carried the groceries into a modest two-story country-style house.
As he opened the door, a rich, warm smell of milk and butter greeted him.
"Oh! Aunt Linda! Are you frying steak?"
Ethan sniffed the air and followed the scent into the kitchen.
The sound of his voice made the middle-aged woman in front of the gas stove glance over her shoulder. Her face lit up, and she waved tongs in greeting.
"Yeah! Ethan! You've got a good nose. I'm frying steak!" she said, laughing.
"Picked up a new cut today — they say it's a cross between Wagyu and Angus. Still in the experimental stage, not even mass-produced yet. I don't know how true that is, but the marbling was beautiful! And the price? Oh my God! Five pounds of filet for fifteen dollars! Fif-teen!"
She widened her eyes in disbelief. "Why don't they just rob me instead?"
Her theatrical delivery — like an operatic soprano hitting a high note — made Ethan laugh.
He lifted the grocery bags in his hand. "If I'd known you were picking up fancy beef, Aunt Linda, I wouldn't have bothered with Kroger."
"Hey! What kind of talk is that!"
Aunt Linda shot him a mock glare and marched over to snatch the bags from him like they were precious cargo.
"Beef is always worth it! You can never have too much. With this oil mess going on, everything's going up like a rocket. Buy today, save tomorrow! Wait — eggs? Milk too? Oh, my sweet baby, you did good!"
She bustled to the fridge, loading everything in with the intensity of someone prepping for the end times, and reached out to give Ethan a hug.
Before she could, a deep voice called out from the hallway:
"Ethan! What'd you do this time to get Linda all worked up? I didn't even pull the car into the driveway, and I already heard hollerin' from inside. You know what it sounded like? Like Henry Fonda striking gold!"
A middle-aged man stood at the doorway in a linen shirt and denim trousers. His belly — the kind that only comes from years of beer and backyard barbecues — jutted out proudly when he grinned, it was all teeth and warmth.
"Oh, honey, you're back!" Aunt Linda threw her arms open.
"Yep. All wrapped up," he said, stepping in for a hug.
"Good afternoon, Uncle Thomas," Ethan greeted.
"Good afternoon, Ethan," Uncle Thomas replied, giving him a few hearty slaps on the back.
After the greetings, Thomas turned back to his wife.
"So what's got you so giddy?"
Aunt Linda beamed and started to explain, but Thomas's eyes narrowed. His practical instincts kicked in.
"Wait a minute. Ethan, didn't you have work this morning? What are you doing at the supermarket before noon? Don't tell me..." He trailed off, then pointed a finger.
"Is this about what I warned you might happen?"
Ethan shrugged, spreading his hands with calm indifference.
"You guessed it. I got fired. Walked in, got the notice. Done before lunch."
Uncle Thomas froze for a moment at Ethan's words. Then he broke into a grin. "So that's it? No wonder! I was wondering why you were back so early. You usually leave at the crack of dawn and come home when the sun's down."
As he spoke, he pulled a new box of Winstons from his shirt pocket, popped one out, and offered it to Ethan. When Ethan waved it off, he sighed in mock disappointment and stuck it between his own lips.
He lit it with a flick of his lighter and muttered,
"Good thing you don't like smoking. I'd feel guilty passing on the habit."
He exhaled a lazy plume of smoke, leaned back against the counter, and added:
"But seriously, Ethan, don't let it get to you. Getting fired is a good thing. Magnavox might've been a decent company on paper, but the management? Absolute garbage.
Rotten from the top down. You followed orders to the letter — sent the invitations exactly as they listed, didn't add anyone, didn't miss anyone — and then they turn around and pin the mess on you? Cowards. The whole lot of them. May they roast in corporate hell!"
He took another drag, then blew it toward the ceiling.
"Honestly, you're lucky to be out of there. Even if you didn't get compensation, it'd still be a blessing in disguise. But since you did—"
"I did," Ethan cut in.
"What?" Uncle Thomas blinked. "You got compensation?"
"Yup. 2N+1," Ethan said with a grin, tapping his temple.
"And this week's pay, too. Just took a little logic and a little... magic must defeat magic."
Uncle Thomas let out a hearty laugh and slapped Ethan's shoulder.
"Oh, that's beautiful! You really pulled it off, huh? That's my boy!"
Turning toward the kitchen, he shouted, "Linda! Do we still have that white wine from Gallo?"
"Yes! Why?" Aunt Linda's voice came from the other room.
"Because we're celebrating!" Uncle Thomas beamed, throwing an arm around Ethan.
"Your nephew just walked away from a rat's nest with his head high and money in his pocket. That deserves a toast!"
He turned to Ethan with a proud smile. "This is your fresh start, kid. Those fools at Magnavox don't even realize what they lost today. One day, they'll regret it ."