Nitish stood among his classmates in the grand hall of Alexandria, his heart thundering in his chest. The grandiosity of the place, the sheer scale of the stone columns reaching toward the vaulted ceiling, seemed designed to inspire awe and fear in equal measure. And fear was certainly what Nitish felt. A cold, clawing dread that seeped into his bones, making his breath come in short, shallow bursts. His eyes flitted nervously to the others, their faces a mirror of his own confusion and trepidation.
The woman who had welcomed them—a goddess by her own proclamation—stood at the center of the room, her robes shimmering like molten silver, flowing with every movement as though they had a life of their own. Her eyes, sharp and unyielding, scanned the crowd with a mixture of disdain and anticipation. She lifted her hand, and the room fell silent, the air thick with unspoken questions and mounting fear.
"Welcome to Alexandria," the goddess intoned, her voice reverberating off the stone walls. "You have been summoned here not by chance, but by necessity. Our world is under siege by the seven demon kings, each embodying one of the seven deadly sins, and above them all, the demon king Sura reigns supreme. He is a force of unimaginable power, and his dominion stretches across the realms, unchecked and unchallenged."
Nitish's pulse quickened. He'd heard enough stories, seen enough anime, to recognize the setup: a hero's call to action, a desperate plea from a world on the brink of collapse. But this wasn't some fictional narrative he could simply turn off when it became too intense. This was real, painfully so, and the stakes were higher than anything he'd ever faced.
"Our latest expedition against the demon king's forces was a catastrophe," the goddess continued, her voice edged with bitterness. "Half of our warriors perished, and the rest were forced to retreat. The situation is dire, and we cannot afford to falter again. That is why you have been brought here—to lend your strength to our cause. But make no mistake, not all of you are worthy. Your power, your usefulness, will be determined by your bloodlines and the skills you are able to wield."
Murmurs spread through the group, rising like a tide of uncertainty. One of the braver students, a girl Nitish vaguely recognized from his biology class, raised her hand. "But… we don't have any powers," she said, her voice trembling. "We're just normal high school kids."
The goddess smirked, a cold, calculating expression that sent a shiver down Nitish's spine. "Normal? Not quite. Each of you carries a latent potential, a bloodline that defines your strengths, your capabilities. When awakened, these bloodlines will grant you skills and powers suited to your nature and abilities. Your behavior, your heart, will determine your worth in this world."
One by one, the students were called forward. Jason, of course, was among the first. He strode confidently to the front, his smug smile growing wider as the goddess placed her hand on his head. A burst of light enveloped him, and when it faded, Jason stood taller, his presence more imposing than before.
"Crimson bloodline," the goddess announced, her voice tinged with approval. "A warrior's heart, fierce and unyielding. And with it, a host of skills—Blade Mastery, Blood Manipulation, Enhanced Reflexes." Jason's smile stretched impossibly wide, and he turned to the rest of the group, his eyes alight with triumph. He was the star, the chosen one, and he soaked in the admiration of his peers like a sponge.
Nitish watched from the back, his unease growing with every bloodline revealed. Four others stepped forward, each receiving a blessing, a name, a power that set them apart. Beast bloodline, Vortex bloodline, Phoenix bloodline—each name was greeted with awe and applause, the students reveling in their newfound importance.
And then it was Nitish's turn. He shuffled forward, trying to ignore the mocking whispers and pointed stares. The goddess looked him up and down, her lip curling in disdain. "Let's see what the trash brings," she muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Nitish to hear. She placed her hand on his head, and for a brief moment, Nitish allowed himself to hope. Maybe, just maybe, he would receive something—a token power, a minor skill, anything to prove he wasn't completely useless.
But as the light faded, Nitish was left standing, unchanged. The goddess pulled her hand away, her expression twisted with contempt. "Nothing," she said, her voice dripping with scorn. "No bloodline, no skills. A worthless existence, a waste of space. This world has no need for the likes of you."
Nitish felt the sting of her words like a slap across the face. His classmates snickered, some openly laughing, others whispering insults behind cupped hands. Nitish clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms, drawing blood. He'd always wanted to be average, to blend in, but this… this was something else. He wasn't just average—he was less than that. He was nothing.
The goddess's eyes gleamed with a cruel light as she regarded him. "You are a liability, and liabilities have no place in Alexandria. I will send you back to your world, where your insignificance will not burden us any further." She raised her hand, a swirling vortex of light and energy forming in her palm, and Nitish's heart plummeted. This wasn't a portal home. This was an execution, plain and simple. She was going to erase him, to eliminate the problem before it could fester.
Nitish's mind raced, his thoughts a chaotic jumble of fear and defiance. This was it, he realized. His life, reduced to nothing more than a mistake to be corrected. He thought of his parents, his empty apartment, the bruises and scars that marked his body, the people who had always seen him as less. A nobody. And now, in this strange, fantastical world, even gods looked down on him.
Just as Nitish braced himself for the end, Jason stepped forward, his eyes meeting the goddess's with a sly, knowing look. "Wait," Jason said, a slow smirk spreading across his face. "Maybe he's useless now, but send him back and he'll talk. He's seen too much, and we don't need any leaks." The goddess hesitated, considering Jason's words. Nitish looked up, catching the exchange, and felt the cold weight of betrayal settle in his gut. They were playing a game, and he was the pawn. And no one helped him, he did not expect anyone to save him, but at least a thought of a fellow human helping, but no one stepped up or spoke instead they were laughing.
The goddess nodded, her smile returning, colder and sharper than before. "You're right. A loose end like him could be troublesome. Very well, we'll dispose of him… elsewhere." With a wave of her hand, the light around Nitish intensified, a blinding, searing brilliance that tore at the edges of his vision. He felt the ground shift beneath his feet, a wrenching sensation that pulled him through the fabric of reality itself. He braced for pain, for oblivion, for whatever lay on the other side of the light.
But when the light receded, Nitish found himself not in the void, but in a vast, shadowy chamber. Dark stone walls loomed on all sides, lit by a faint, eerie glow that seemed to emanate from the very air itself. It was cold, a bone-chilling kind of cold that sank deep into Nitish's skin, settling in his very marrow. He blinked, trying to adjust to the dimness, and as his vision cleared, he realized he wasn't alone.
A figure sat on a throne at the far end of the room, cloaked in darkness, its silhouette towering and menacing. Nitish's breath caught in his throat as he recognized the being before him—the demon king Sura from his status window, ruler of the seven demon kings and the embodiment of all that was feared in this realm. His presence was overwhelming, a crushing weight that pressed down on Nitish's chest, making it hard to breathe. This was a creature of legends, of nightmares, and Nitish was standing in his domain.
The goddess had tried to send Nitish to his death, to rid herself of the problem he represented. She had sent assassins before, warriors whose skills and strengths were unmatched in Alexandria. But Sura was no ordinary opponent. His level was too high, his power too great, and every attempt on his life had ended in failure. They couldn't even scratch him, let alone defeat him. And now, instead of assassins, it was Nitish who had been cast into the demon king's lair, a sacrificial lamb thrown to the wolves.
But as Nitish stood there, trembling and alone, something shifted inside him. A spark of defiance flared in his chest, burning away the fear and doubt that had plagued him. He was done being the background character, the invisible nobody. He had been humiliated, discarded, underestimated by everyone, and yet here he was, alive in the one place no one dared to tread.
Nitish lifted his head, meeting the demon king's gaze with a smirk. The corner of his mouth twisted upward, the expression filled with a dark, unspoken challenge. Sura's eyes, glowing with an unearthly light, narrowed slightly, as if intrigued by the human who stood before him without cowering.
Nitish had no powers, no bloodline, no place in Alexandria's grand narrative. But as he faced the most powerful being in this world, he felt a surge of something that had been buried deep within him—something raw, fierce, and undeniably alive. He was no hero, no savior, no chosen one. He was Nitish, and if the world thought him to be nothing, then he would carve out his own path, defying expectations every step of the way.
With a calm that surprised even himself, Nitish smirked, his eyes never leaving the demon king's. "Well," he muttered, almost to himself, "this is going to be interesting."