(A/N):
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Blood soaked into the asphalt, warm at first… then cold.
Krishna lay on his back, his vision flickering like a dying screen.
The sky above Delhi blurred into streaks of white and red as emergency lights danced across his pupils.
Somewhere nearby, sirens screamed like wounded beasts, rising and falling, refusing to let silence claim him yet.
Fifteen terrorists lay dead.
He remembered that clearly.
Every shot. Every movement. Every second where instinct took over and fear vanished.
He had done his duty.
But duty, it seemed, did not stop blood loss.
"KRISHNA! STAY WITH ME!"
The voice cut through the haze like a cracked blade.
'Raghu.'
His brother in arms. His partner since the task force days.
The man who had dragged him through hell and laughed about it later over cheap tea.
Raghu's face hovered above him inside the ambulance, streaked with sweat and tears, hands pressing desperately against Krishna's wound.
"Don't you dare close your eyes,"
Raghu shouted, voice breaking.
"Hospital is near. You hear me? NEAR!"
Krishna tried to answer. Tried to smile. To say It's okay.
But his lips wouldn't move.
The siren grew louder… then distant.
Like it was sinking underwater.
Raghu's voice became hoarse, foggy, as if coming from the end of a long tunnel.
And then—His life began to rewind.
REWIND MEMORIES BEFORE DEATH...
Chennai....
An orphanage with cracked walls and iron beds.
A baby left behind without a name, without a reason.
School days passed in fragments. Barely passable marks.
Teachers shaking their heads.
Complaints about his temper, his fists, his refusal to bow when bullied.
He had anger issues, they said.
They never asked why.
Bullies learned quickly that he didn't know how to retreat.
College came next. An arts degree completed more out of stubbornness than interest.
Then a challenge from Raghu, half a joke, half a dare.
"Join the army if you think you're tough."
Krishna had joined to prove something. To the world. To himself.
Covert missions followed. Black ops. Silent kills. Lives saved that would never make the news.
Then the transfer to the Special Protection Group.
Third day on duty.
An attack in Delhi.
Terrorists. Gunfire. Screams.
And the Indian President alive because Krishna stood in the way.
His chest tightened. As he thought weakly.
'My life… It's not… fulfilled yet.'
Darkness swallowed the sirens.
Everything went blank.
"...."
"...."
"...."
[??? World]
Then...
Krishna gasped.
Air rushed into his lungs violently as he bolted upright.
-Huff -Huff
-Huff -Huff
No pain. No blood. No ambulance.
"...."
He sat in a room that looked like it had escaped straight out of a science fiction movie.
Smooth metallic walls shimmered faintly with shifting patterns.
Light sources had no visible bulbs, yet the room glowed softly, evenly.
A transparent screen floated near the wall, displaying moving posters in an unfamiliar language.
His heart pounded.
-Thud. -Thud.
-Thud.
"What… is this place?"
He swung his legs off the bed, boots meeting the floor out of instinct.
Only… there were no boots.
He was barefoot. The surface beneath his feet was warm, responsive, almost alive, adjusting to his weight with a faint hum.
Krishna steadied himself, breath slow, controlled.
Years of training refused to let panic take the wheel.
His eyes scanned the room.
No doors. No windows. Just seamless walls, light flowing through them like liquid trapped behind glass.
The floating screen shifted as if it sensed his attention.
Symbols rearranged themselves, lines bending into shapes that almost resembled letters but weren't quite there yet.
Then it happened.
A sharp pressure bloomed behind his eyes.
"Ahhh!!!"
He staggered, gripping the edge of the bed as information flooded in, not violently, but insistently.
Languages. Context. History. Not just memories exactly, but understanding.
This wasn't Earth.
This was a parallel universe where humanity had climbed so far up the ladder of progress that the rungs below were forgotten.
Robots were no longer tools.
They were citizens. Entire cities of steel and light existed alongside human worlds, governed by logic tempered with something resembling ethics.
Aliens were not invaders in stories but signatories in treaties.
Once enemies. Once rivals. A war that had scorched stars had ended fifty thousand years ago, leaving behind borders, agreements, and a shared exhaustion.
Humanity had spread.
Planets beyond the solar system. Beyond the galaxy.
Even beyond what his previous world had ever mapped.
Faster-than-light travel was mundane.
AI handled governance, logistics, medicine, education.
No hunger. No unemployment. No scarcity.
A civilization without cracks.
And yet… something was missing.
Krishna's brow furrowed as that realization settled like dust in his chest.
-Frown.
"...."
Stories.
Entertainment existed, yes, but it was sterile. Optimized. Emotionally neutral.
Music engineered to please everyone equally.
Films designed to offend no one, excite no one too much, disturb no one at all.
No obsession. No madness. No heartbreak.
No one stayed up all night because they had to know what happened next.
His fingers curled slowly into fists as he murmured.
"…That's why it feels so quiet,"
He turned, drawn toward the wall opposite the bed.
The surface rippled, reshaping itself into a mirror.
-Ripple
Krishna froze by the sight.
The man staring back at him was unfamiliar in form, yet unmistakably him.
Bluish light-black skin shimmered faintly, catching the ambient glow like polished obsidian dusted with starlight.
His eyes were golden, sharp and luminous, carrying depth that felt older than the room itself.
His hair fell into a stylish mullet, funked at the back, bangs resting over his forehead, a few sharp strands crossing just above his eyebrows.
Beautiful. Striking. Almost unreal.
"…So this is me now,"
He said quietly. As if on cue, a bright chime rang through the room.
[DING...]
[SYSTEM BOOTING…]
[0% → 47% → 100%]
A holographic interface burst into existence mid-air.
Then a figure appeared. Animated. Expressive. Entirely too dramatic.
It stretched, yawned loudly, then snapped into an exaggerated bow. It announced,
[Ladies, gentlemen, sentient machines, and whoever else might be watching from another dimension, welcome to your second life!]
Krishna took half a step back.
"…What are you?"
The figure placed a hand on its chest, eyes shining with theatrical pride. It declared.
[I am the Entertainment System, Custodian of forgotten joy. Archivist of chaos. And your unwilling but extremely charming companion.]
A counter flashed beside it.
[EP: 0]
[With Entertainment Points,]
The system continued, pacing mid-air,
[you can recreate movies, songs, anime, games, manga, comics, applications—entire cultural phenomena—from your old world.]
Another window slid open.
[STARTER PACK AVAILABLE]
Krishna stared at the interface, pulse steady but heart heavy.
"...."
He had died saving a life.
He had been reborn in a world that had solved everything—Except how to feel.
Slowly, deliberately, he looked up at the system.
"…If I use this,"
He asked, voice calm but edged with something dangerous,
"what happens to this universe?"
The system grinned wide.
[-GRIN]
[Oh,]
It said, snapping its fingers,
[SNAP]
[things get interesting.]
Krishna exhaled. For the first time since the sirens faded, something inside him stirred. Purpose. he said softly, golden eyes gleaming,
"Then, let's begin."
The holographic window pulsed.
[STARTER PACK AVAILABLE]
Krishna stared at it for a long second. He said quietly controlling his excitedment.
"…Alright, Show me."
The room darkened.
Then—[BOOM.]
Light exploded outward like a stage curtain being ripped open by force.
Fireworks of color burst across the air, confetti made of glowing polygons raining down dramatically for no reason whatsoever.
A spotlight snapped on.
The Entertainment System appeared center stage, arms stretched wide, chin lifted, grinning like it had been waiting its whole existence for this moment. It bellowed.
[LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! WELCOME! To the most important unboxing of your second life!]
Krishna flinched hearing his over enthusiastic system.
"Why is it shouting?"
[BECAUSE THIS,]
The system declared, spinning mid-air and pointing at him,
[IS A STARTER PACK! And starter packs deserve RESPECT!]
A massive golden slot-machine lever materialized beside it.
[Let's. Pull. THE. LEVER!]
Before Krishna could object, the system yanked it down.
"...."
[CLINK]
[REWARD ONE]
The air shimmered with expectation.
[DING!!!]
[+30,000 EP]
The number slammed into place with an exaggerated ding that echoed like a casino jackpot.
The system gasped loudly, clutching its chest.
[WOOOOWWW!!!]
[THIRTY. THOUSAND. ENTERTAINMENT POINTS! Do you know how many people reincarnate and get ten?]
[PATHETIC!]
Krishna blinked.
"...."
"…Is that a lot?"
The system leaned in, whispering loudly with a nod.
[NOD]
[It's obscene.]
[REWARD TWO]
The room shifted. A familiar whistle echoed.
Then laughter.
[KEKEKEKE!!!]
A blue-grey cat streaked across a floating screen, chasing a brown mouse who smacked him with a frying pan.
Tom screamed. Jerry laughed.
The screen multiplied, branching outward into dozens of panels.
Classic shorts. Full-length movies. Modern remasters. Even new adaptations, refined but faithful.
[TOM AND JERRY – COMPLETE COLLECTION UNLOCKED]
The system wiped an imaginary tear.
[-SNIFF] [-SNIFF]
[Slapstick. Timing. Violence without hatred,]
It said reverently like it was witnessing a scared relic.
[Peak civilization.]
Krishna's lips twitched despite himself.
-Twitch
"…They're going to lose their minds."
[Oh, they're going to rediscover joy,]
The system corrected smugly.
[DING...]
[REWARD THREE]
The screens collapsed inward, reforming into a vast white void.
A space unfolded around Krishna, limitless and responsive. Tools floated into existence at a thought.
Timeline tracks. Sound layers. Color grading. Frame-by-frame manipulation.
Reality itself felt editable here.
[EDITOR SPACE UNLOCKED]
The system gestured grandly opening its both hands dramatically. It said.
[Your sandbox, Edit movies. Remix music. Adapt stories. Adjust pacing, tone, language, culture.]
[No restrictions. No degradation. No accidental quality loss because you sneezed.]
Krishna reached out. The space responded instantly.
"...."
"…This is dangerous,"
He murmured taking a step back.
The system nodded proudly.
[-NOD]
[Extremely.]
[DING...]
[REWARD FOUR]
The lights dimmed. The system's tone shifted, just a fraction more serious. A final panel rose, etched in gold.
[ABSORPTION FEATURE UNLOCKED]
[Condition: Character Popularity & Emotional Thresholds]
The system folded its arms. It explained,
[When a character you create or recreate reaches certain emotional resonance thresholds,]
[you may absorb abilities, talents, instincts, or traits associated with them.]
Krishna's eyes narrowed hearing the words of the system.
-Frown
"Combat abilities?"
[If applicable,]
The system shrugged.
[Mostly?]
It grinned back at Krishna.
[-GRIN]
[Skills. Creativity. Presence. Timing. Charisma. Endurance.]
Krishna exhaled slowly.
"…So the more they feel, the more I change."
[NOW you're getting it,]
The system said, snapping its fingers.
[-SNAP!]
The space collapsed. The room returned to normal.
Before Krishna could speak—A soft chime rang.
A new hologram appeared.
Small. Floating.
A childlike figure with tiny wings, glowing faintly gold, hovering politely in the air.
Its face was round, innocent, eyes large and warm.
It clasped its hands together and bowed.
"Good day, Young Master Krishna,"
It said in a gentle, childlike voice.
"This unit is Ariel. Your household support AI."
Krishna stiffened just as he remembered.
"Household…?"
Ariel tilted its head. As it said sweetly.
"...."
"Madam Sara is requesting your presence, She appears… worried."
The name hit him instantly.
Sara.
Memories surged forward.
His mother.
An alien woman from the Aurelians, a radiant humanoid race known for their luminous skin and refined genetic traits.
It was her blood that shaped his appearance.
Her features dominated his form.
From his father, Ram, he had inherited only one thing. Golden eyes.
Both of them had served in the military.
Both captains. Both decorated.
Wealth. Status. Stability.
A life he had lived without remembering—until now.
Krishna steadied himself. As he said.
"…Tell her I'm coming,"
Ariel's wings fluttered happily.
"Yes, Young Master!"
The projection vanished.
Krishna stood alone again, the echo of the system's laughter still faint in the air.
Two lives behind him. One waiting ahead.
"…Guess it's time to meet my mother,"
He murmured to himself in low voice.
The system popped back into view, smirking. As it spoke.
[Oh, this is where things get fun.]
Krishna walked toward the smooth wall where a translucent tab floated patiently, as if it had all the time in the universe.
At a gesture, the interface bloomed open, revealing neatly categorized options.
[PRIVATE ROOMS
COMMON ROOM
RESTROOM
BATHHOUSE
STUDY
— more —]
"…Restroom,"
Krishna said reading the tab.
The tab pulsed.
[LOADING…]
A soft hum followed. The wall before him rippled like disturbed water, then silently parted, revealing a pristine restroom straight out of speculative fiction.
-RIPPLES
Krishna stepped in, eyes widening despite himself.
"...."
Before he could even reach the sink, thin blue laser threads swept gently across his mouth.
There was no heat, no discomfort.
Just a faint vibration as his teeth were cleaned down to the molecular level.
"…Okay, That's efficient."
He muttered, impressed.
A mirror shimmered alive, adjusting angles automatically, lighting his face perfectly without asking permission.
He splashed water on his face more out of habit than necessity, grounding himself.
Next, he returned to the tab.
"Bathhouse."
Again, the soft hum.
[LOADING…]
The wall opened into a spacious chamber filled with warm mist and faintly glowing patterns etched into the floor.
The air itself felt clean.
The moment Krishna stepped inside, the system took over.
Gentle currents of water wrapped around him, washing away grime, sweat, and lingering traces of blood that his mind still remembered even if his body no longer carried them.
The AI adjusted temperature, pressure, even muscle relaxation, responding to his posture and breathing.
He didn't need to move.
Didn't need to think.
"...."
For the first time since waking up, Krishna let himself relax completely.
Minutes later...
He stepped out, skin warm, hair perfectly dried, body refreshed down to the bone.
The wall sealed behind him without a sound, restoring his room as if nothing had ever changed.
He had changed his dress with the help of A.I who dressed him up after he choose the dress he wanted to wear.
Krishna exhaled, then turned back to the tab.
"Common room."
[LOADING…]
This time, when the wall opened, it didn't reveal another sterile space.
It revealed life.
The common room was vast and welcoming, filled with soft light and comfortable structures that felt lived in rather than designed.
Warm colors flowed across the walls.
Holographic art drifted lazily in the air.
A faint scent of something floral lingered.
Krishna took one step forward—
—and suddenly something collided with him from behind.
"...."
"KRISHNA!"
Small arms wrapped around his neck as a body leapt onto his back with alarming force.
"Oof—!"
He staggered instinctively, then froze.
Laughter rang out, bright and unrestrained.
-Hehehe!!!
"Don't move! Don't move! I missed you too much!"
A girl who looked no older than fourteen clung to him, cheek pressed against his shoulder, giggling endlessly.
This was Sara. His mother.
[Current age: three thousand five hundred.]
Do not ask about it.
Do not comment on it.
Do not, under any circumstances, mention it to her face unless you had a strong desire to die very young.
The Aurelian race possessed a unique trait.
They could alter their body's age, maturity, and physical form at will.
Sara preferred this appearance. Youthful. Energetic. Perfect for spoiling her son.
Krishna carefully turned, steadying her as she slid off his back.
"…Mom,"
He said, voice softer than he expected.
Sara beamed at him, eyes shining.
She immediately reached up and patted his head, fingers threading through his hair without hesitation. She said, pouting.
"You're thinner, And taller. And oh, you still look too serious."
She pulled him into a tight hug again, squeezing with alarming strength for someone who looked like a teenager.
"...."
Krishna stood there, arms slowly lifting, returning the hug.
For a moment, the universe went quiet.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Sara pulled back just enough to look at his face, then giggled again, clearly delighted. She said proudly.
-Giggle
"My little Krishna, Fifty-five years old already. Still a baby."
"…I'm standing right here,"
Krishna replied dryly.
She ignored that and resumed patting his head, absolutely not holding back.
By this universe's standards, he was still a child.
A wealthy child.
A mixed-race child of two military captains.
A supermodel-looking child, apparently.
And soon… A student.
Krishna glanced around the room, then back at his mother, her smile warm and unguarded. He said quietly.
"…I'm home,"
Sara's smile softened, and she hugged him again, this time gently.
"Yes, You are."
The common room seemed to glow just a little brighter.
One might wonder what Krishna truly meant when he said "I'm home."
It wasn't nostalgia for a place he remembered.
It wasn't familiarity with walls or rooms.
It was acceptance.
For an entire month before awakening, Krishna had been placed in hibernation.
Not sleep, not unconsciousness, but a carefully regulated state where time flowed differently for the mind.
Knowledge was layered into him gently, deliberately.
Languages first. Several of them. Human dialects, trade languages, machine-interfacing syntax, and a handful of alien tongues used in diplomacy and science.
Then came the foundations.
Mathematics that bent around dimensions he had never imagined.
Physics that treated space like fabric instead of distance.
Chemistry where reactions danced with energy fields.
Biology that no longer stopped at flesh, but included synthetic life and hybrid evolution.
Not mastery. Never mastery.
Just the basics. Enough to function. Enough to understand the world without drowning in it.
And at the very end of the hibernation, like a door of his bed pod quietly unlocking itself, his memories returned the scene before.
Everything aligned. The man who had died in Delhi. The child who had lived here. The soldier. The son.
That was why the words slipped out so naturally.
"I'm home."
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(Author's POV)
(A/N):
There will be two chapters a week(Monday and Tuesday)
If delayed I would post it on Wednesday or Thursday.
Thanks for reading the chapter!
Please give a review and power stone!!!