Morning arrived before comfort.
Rudra woke to stiffness, not pain sharp enough to stop him—just resistance, like the body asking a question.
Do you really want to move today?
He sat up slowly, rolled his shoulders once, twice. The ache answered back, dull but present.
"Yes," he said quietly.
That was enough.
The streets were still empty when he stepped outside. Bangalore mornings carried a soft chill, the kind that made breathing feel clean. The sky was pale, undecided, light spreading without hurry.
Rudra started with a walk.
Not running.
Not yet.
His footsteps were measured, deliberate, letting joints warm, letting muscles wake without shock.
Stamina
Lv 03 (66 / 100 EXP) → (68 / 100 EXP)
After five minutes, he shifted into a jog.
Short strides. Upright posture. Arms relaxed.
He focused on breathing—four steps in, four out. No rush. No ego.
In his past life, stamina had been something outsourced—to youth, to luck, to genetics.
Now, it was a number that listened.
Stamina
Lv 03 (68 / 100 EXP) → (72 / 100 EXP)
His chest warmed. Legs complained, then adapted. Sweat formed lightly along his temples.
Good sweat.
Not desperate.
Sustainable.
Halfway down the road, his pace slowed. He didn't push harder. He held it.
Consistency over intensity.
Focus
Lv 06 (40 / 100 EXP) → (43 / 100 EXP)
When he finally stopped, breath steadying gradually instead of collapsing, Rudra bent forward, hands on knees, smiling.
Not wide.
Satisfied.
Stamina
Lv 03 (72 / 100 EXP) → (75 / 100 EXP)
He walked home as the city began to wake, milk vendors passing, shutters lifting, distant horns stretching into the morning.
This wasn't heroic.
No audience.
No praise.
Just repetition begun.
Stamina wasn't built in one run.
It was built by showing up again tomorrow.
Rudra wiped his face, already planning the next morning—not longer, not faster.
Just there.
And somewhere, quietly, the system recorded the truth.