Chapter 1: The Beginning of Change
"The weak are forgotten. The strong are remembered."
That was the thought echoing in Lavish's head as he walked the narrow streets of his town in the sky bled orange as the sun sank, but even that fiery glow couldn't burn away the weight pressing on his chest.
Seventeen years old, yet already tired of life.
His parents were gone—snatched by a car crash when he was just eight. What followed was cruelty. Whispers behind his back. Eyes that judged him. Bullies who reminded him every day that he was weaker, different, alone.
He learned to hide his pain, to keep his head low, to endure in silence. But silence never left. It clung to him like a shadow, wrapping around his heart, suffocating him.
Still, a spark remained. He wanted more than survival. He wanted to be remembered.
That's when he saw him.
An old man stood in the middle of the path, like he had been waiting for Lavish. His hair gleamed silver, but his skin was unmarked by age. His eyes glowed faintly, like burning embers refusing to die out. Time itself seemed to hesitate around him.
"You carry the weight of the world," the man said, voice calm but cutting. "And yet… you haven't broken. That makes you different."
Lavish froze, heart hammering. "I… I just finished school. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with my life."
The man slipped a hand into his coat and revealed two envelopes, one black, one white. They gleamed faintly under the dying light.
"These letters," he said, tone like prophecy, "will show you two different futures. One is safe, predictable. The other… dangerous. But powerful. The choice is yours. And once made, it cannot be undone."
Lavish's hands shook as he opened the white letter. Inside—a government job offer. Stable. Secure. The path of safety. He could almost hear the voices of his teachers: This is the right choice. Take it. Be normal.
But his gut twisted. The letter felt hollow. A cage wrapped in gold.
Then he tore open the black letter.
"If you seek power beyond imagination, come alone to the address below at midnight. This is not a trick. This is your fate."
The words burned into him. His blood raced. His fear screamed no—but something deeper, stronger, whispered yes. The part of him that had suffered all these years, the part that had never given up, demanded action.
And so, at midnight, Lavish went.
The mansion loomed outside the city, abandoned, towering, its windows dark and watching. The gates groaned open without a touch, as though welcoming him.
His instincts screamed danger. His pulse pounded. But his feet moved anyway.
The moment he stepped inside, the floor glowed beneath him. White light swallowed his vision.
When it cleared, he was standing in a vast futuristic chamber. Walls glowed with strange symbols. The floor shone like glass. Dozens of people stood scattered around, whispering in dozens of languages. Fear mixed with awe, echoing in the sterile air.
Lavish scanned the crowd—then froze.
"Siddhart?!"
His best friend turned, shock flashing across his face. "Lavish?! You got the letter too?"
The relief was sharp, almost overwhelming. But it didn't last.
A sudden gust ripped through the chamber. The glowing lights flickered. Shadows pooled on the walls.
And then—silence.
A figure descended from above.
A man hovered in mid-air, wings of black stretching wide. His mere presence crushed the room like an ocean wave. The pressure was so heavy several candidates dropped to their knees, gasping for air.
Lavish's whole body locked. His skin burned, his veins tingled. Every heartbeat echoed like thunder in his chest.
The man's gaze swept across them, cold, merciless.
And when those eyes passed over Lavish—something stirred. A spark inside him, hot and alien, spreading through his veins. His fingertips trembled with power he didn't understand.
Then he heard it.
"Lavish…"
A whisper. His name. Too faint, too impossible—yet undeniable.
Fear collided with excitement. Doubt clashed with determination. For years, he had been weak, ignored, crushed.
But now—fate itself had called his name.
This was no ordinary night. This was the beginning of change.