The Return of the Poker Face
The cold mountain air of Jammu & Kashmir blew through the hotel window as the sun began its ascent. Aaryan Sahu opened his eyes, but the softness from the previous day was gone. The warmth had been replaced by the sharp, analytical edge of the Level 1 Architect System.
He sat up and immediately began his high-intensity workout, moving with a mechanical precision that seemed to defy the freezing temperature. He turned to the beds where Simran and Riya were still huddled under thick blankets.
"Wake up," Aaryan said, his voice flat. "The workout block starts now."
Simran rubbed her eyes and sat up, but she froze when she saw him. The boy who had laughed in the snow, the boy who had kissed them and shown a genuine smile, had vanished. In his place stood the Mastermind with the unshakable poker face.
"Aaryan?" Simran asked, her voice trembling. "Why are you back in that old form? Why the poker face again?"
Aaryan didn't stop his push-ups. "Why do you ask that question to me?"
"Because you were looking so happy yesterday!" Simran cried. "We want that Aaryan. Not the cold one you look like now."
Aaryan stopped and stood up, his blue-tinted eye glowing faintly as he stared into the distance. "Actually... yesterday, I sacrificed one month of my life span so I could look normal."
The Sacrifice of Time
The room went deathly silent. Simran's heart dropped. "What? Are you kidding? That's not a funny joke, Aaryan."
"I am not kidding," Aaryan replied, his expression unchanging. "Simran, you once said that you wanted to change me back to my old, normal form. I thought, just for one day, I would give you a normal Aaryan. The System allowed a temporal exchange—one month of my life in exchange for 24 hours of emotional restoration."
"You are mad!" Simran screamed, tears suddenly blurring her vision. "You wasted a month of your life just for one day of smiles? I only wanted you to be happy, not to kill yourself!"
"I only did that for you," Aaryan said simply.
He stepped forward and pulled both Simran and Riya into a tight hug. "Please... don't say anything more about it."
Simran began to sob against his chest. "I don't feel hurt that you did it, but it's because of me that you sacrificed your life. I can't forgive myself for that."
Aaryan didn't reply. He didn't have the words to explain that to a Mastermind, time is just another currency to be spent. He simply let her cry until she was quiet, then stepped back to follow his daily routine, leaving the girls in a state of shock and grief.
The Beauty of the Heights
The tension remained as they prepared for the day. Simran kept trying to catch his eye. "Please, Aaryan... talk to me. Please."
"I don't have time now," Aaryan replied as he checked his equipment. "We talk later."
They climbed into the car and drove toward the higher mountain peaks. The scenery was breathtaking—vast expanses of white snow and jagged cliffs that reached for the sky. Finally, as they stood on a ridge overlooking the valley, Aaryan turned to Simran.
"Don't blame yourself," he said, his voice softer than before. "That was my choice. It was not your fault. I wanted to see if I still had a heart."
"Okay," Simran whispered, wiping a stray tear. "But don't do it again. Promise me."
"I won't do it again. Now, enjoy the beauty of this place."
For the next few hours, they pushed the darkness aside. They went skiing down the gentle slopes, the wind whipping past their faces. They engaged in another snow fight, falling onto the snowy ground and looking up at the clear blue sky. For a moment, they were happy again, even if Aaryan's face remained still.
"We return to Bhilai the day after tomorrow," Aaryan informed them as they rested. "The half-yearly exams are waiting."
The Mastermind in the Kitchen
When they returned to the hotel, Simran's father called. He informed them that a private guest house owned by the family was nearby and requested they shift there for their final night.
They arrived at the guest house—a beautiful, secluded building made of dark wood and stone. Inside, the air was clean and the rooms were spotless, but there were no workers or chefs to be found.
"Today," Aaryan announced, "you both have to cook dinner."
Simran and Riya looked at each other in panic. "But Aaryan... we don't know how to cook dinner! We've always had help."
"Learn," Aaryan said. "Efficiency starts in the kitchen."
The girls spent the next two hours in the kitchen, the sounds of clattering pans and confused shouting echoing through the house. Finally, they emerged with two plates of food and served them to Aaryan.
Aaryan took a single bite. He chewed slowly, his face a complete blank.
"How is it?" Riya asked nervously. "Is it good?"
"You eat and taste it yourself," Aaryan replied, pushing the plates toward them.
The girls took a bite and immediately gagged. The salt was overwhelming, the vegetables were raw, and the meat was burnt. It was barely edible by human standards.
Aaryan sighed and stood up. "Now, I will make food for you."
"You?" Simran asked, skeptical. "Do you have any experience with cooking?"
"I don't have experience," Aaryan said, heading into the kitchen. "But I have the System."
Inside the kitchen, Aaryan moved like a 7-star chef. He didn't need recipes; the Architect System calculated the exact temperature, the perfect spice ratios, and the chemical reactions of the ingredients. Within twenty minutes, he emerged with a meal that smelled like heaven.
When Simran and Riya tasted it, their eyes went wide. It was the most delicious food they had ever eaten—perfectly balanced, savory, and rich. They couldn't stop eating until every scrap was gone.
"How..." Simran started, but she stopped. She knew the answer. Aaryan was simply better at everything.
As they settled in for the night, the warmth of the meal and the quiet of the guest house finally brought peace. They fell asleep together, the mountain winds howling outside, while Aaryan stayed awake for a moment longer, calculating the days he had left and the battles still to come in Bhilai.