Chapter 2: A System Awakens to Level Up
A full year had passed since that horrifying night—the night Shekhar lost everything. Time moved forward, indifferent and relentless, but the scars never faded.
He had been only five years old when his world was torn apart: his family slaughtered before his eyes, his home reduced to ash, his father dying as he shielded him with his final breath.
That night didn’t just destroy his home.
It shattered his soul.
For months, Shekhar was locked in silence. He didn’t speak. He barely moved. Every breath was heavy with grief and the crushing weight of helplessness.
Why did I survive?
That question echoed through his every waking moment, but he never found an answer. He had been too small. Too weak. Powerless to protect the people he loved. The laughter of the men who murdered them haunted his dreams. Their faces—twisted and monstrous—were carved into his memory.
In the smoldering ruins, village guards found him: wide-eyed, trembling, silent. Just another orphan of war, they assumed.
They didn’t know this boy had seen everything.
With no family left, they brought him to the Singhania estate, home of Lord Roy Singhania—a nobleman of wealth, power, and influence. Roy had once fought beside Shekhar’s father. Upon hearing what happened, he made a choice.
He adopted Shekhar as his son.
At first, Shekhar felt grateful. Lord Roy was kind, offering food, shelter, even gentle words. But the rest of the Singhania household made it clear—he wasn’t welcome.
To them, he was a stain on their legacy.
A filthy commoner. A burden. An outsider.
His stepmother, Lady Meera, never hid her contempt.
“She doesn’t belong here,” she often whispered to guests, lips curled in disgust. “My husband is far too softhearted.”
His stepbrother Aryan was worse.
“You think you’re one of us?” he’d sneer, shoving Shekhar into the dirt. “You’re just a stray dog. Remember that.”
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The insults turned into abuse. His food vanished before he could eat. His clothes were torn apart. The servants looked through him, even when he bled.
When Lord Roy was away, Lady Meera’s cruelty knew no restraint.
She dragged Shekhar across the cold stone floor one evening, her grip tight, her voice venomous. “You are not my son. You’re a parasite. Do you know what happens to parasites?”
She pressed a heated iron rod to his forearm.
The air sizzled with the stench of scorched flesh.
Shekhar bit his lip so hard he tasted blood.
But he did not scream.
He couldn’t scream.
Not yet.
Because something inside him had begun to change.
---
The Awakening
The night his family was murdered, just before he blacked out, he had heard something strange—not a human voice, but a mechanical, emotionless whisper.
> [Your abilities have awakened.]
At the time, he had been too broken to understand. The voice was foreign—unwelcome in a world that had already given him too much pain. But weeks later, lying alone in the cold shadows of the Singhania estate, it happened again.
A strange sensation rippled across his chest, followed by a soft, glowing screen that flickered into existence in front of him. He froze.
---
[Name: Shekhar]
[Level: 1]
[Strength: 2]
[Endurance: 1]
[Speed: 2]
[Fatigue: 5]
[Intelligence: 3]
[Agility: 3]
[Magic: 0]
[Skills: None]
---
Shekhar blinked, unsure if his tired eyes were playing tricks on him. The glowing words were unnatural, like a dream that had become too real to ignore. His hand reached out cautiously, but it disappeared before he could touch it.
"What… is this?" he whispered aloud.
Another message appeared, just as quietly.
> [Daily Quests Activated. Accept your training. Survive.]
He stared at the message. His mind tried to comprehend it, but only confusion settled in his chest. It didn’t make sense. His hands trembled, and he pulled them to his face, forcing himself to breathe slowly. This couldn’t be real. It had to be a hallucination—something his mind had conjured in the wake of all his pain.
But as the days dragged on, it happened again. And again. The screen. The words. The strange sensation of something awakening deep within him.
---
[Daily Quests Assigned.]
Push-ups: 30
Meditation: 15 minutes
Running: 5 laps
---
The tasks were simple. Too simple. He could ignore them, pretend it was nothing. But something kept him going. Every time he completed them, he felt a subtle shift—like something was taking root in him, something he couldn't explain.
The first time he did push-ups, his body screamed in protest. He hadn’t been this weak since the night of the massacre, and yet something inside him pushed him onward. Every drop of sweat, every gasp for air, fed that strange sense of determination. And, slowly—painfully—his body began to change.
He wasn’t sure how. He wasn’t sure why. But for the first time, his thoughts weren’t consumed by the pain of his memories. They were consumed by a question that only one voice could answer:
> [Quest Complete.]
[Endurance +1]
[Strength +1]
[Speed +1]
[Fatigue -1]
---
It was a small change, but it was a change.
And in that moment, Shekhar allowed himself to believe one thing for the first time in over a year: He was starting to live again.
---
As the days stretched into weeks, Shekhar began to train more methodically. He woke before dawn, sprinting across the gardens of the estate, heart pounding in his chest. The cold morning air stung his lungs, but it reminded him that he was still alive. He did sit-ups beneath stairwells. He lifted stones behind storage sheds. He meditated beneath the ancient banyan tree, each breath a battle to quiet the storm within him.
---
Slowing Aryan's Fury
Then, one afternoon, Aryan tried to shove him again. The contempt in his eyes was unmistakable.
But this time, Shekhar didn’t fall.
Aryan’s hand reached out, but Shekhar moved swiftly, gripping his wrist with an iron hold. Aryan’s face twisted in confusion and fear.
“What are you doing?” Aryan’s voice shook.
Shekhar met his gaze, calm as the quiet before a storm.
“Nothing,” Shekhar said, his voice low. “Just making sure I don’t fall.”
Aryan pulled back, his face pale. For the first time, he hesitated, a crack in his bravado.
And from that moment on, Aryan kept his distance.
---
The Change Within Him
Each night, bruises throbbing, stomach aching with hunger, Shekhar would close his eyes. He would remember his mother’s final smile, his father’s last stand, and the laughter of the monsters who destroyed everything he had known.
But now, with the system’s strange guidance, there was a new thought that burned in his chest—stronger tha
n the rage, stronger than the pain. It was a promise.
“I will destroy them.”
“I will grow stronger.”
“One day, I’ll make them all pay.”
---
To Be Continued...
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