That day was not much different from the rest. The dull sunshine poured through the classroom windows, the air thick and hot, and the laughter directed at him echoed once more.

Elion Viro, a boy with black hair and an average face, lowered his head, attempting to remain invisible amidst the cacophony of his classmates' mockery. Every time he tried to speak, it ended in ridicule.

To his classmates, he was "different." His teachers described him as smart yet peculiar. His grades were consistently the highest in every subject, but social interactions eluded him. His unique thinking and inability to read social cues set him apart, making him feel like a social outcast.

That day, math class dragged on, each minute feeling like an eternity. Finally, the teacher leaned back in her chair and, with a strained smile, tried to break the monotony.

"Since we've been talking about probability today," she began, "what do you all think are the chances of life existing beyond our planet?"

The question was clearly rhetorical, meant to draw a few chuckles and lighten the mood. It worked. The class burst into laughter, some kids throwing out wild answers—"Zero!" shouted one, "A hundred percent; I saw aliens on TikTok!" said another.

Elion didn't laugh. He took the question seriously. Slowly, he straightened his posture, weighing the factors in his mind. The laughter around him faded into white noise as he raised his hand.

"Well, if we look at it from a probability standpoint, the chances of life existing elsewhere are actually quite high," he stated softly but confidently. "If we consider the Drake Equation, which factors in the rate of star formation, the number of planets that could support life, and—"

Before he could continue, a classmate burst out laughing. The others quickly joined in.

"Pfft—what the hell are you talking about?" someone interrupted.

Laughter exploded across the room.

"Drake Equation? Are we in some kind of sci-fi movie?" another voice jeered.

Elion blinked, his train of thought derailing as the mockery surrounded him. "I-I didn't say anything wrong…" he tried to explain, but his voice wavered, and it was already too late.

It only made things worse.

The mimicry started. "I dIdN't SaY aNyThInG WrOnG," one boy parroted in a nasal tone, triggering another wave of hilarity.

Even the teacher, though she tried to hide it, stifled a small chuckle.

Elion froze, his face heating as his classmates' laughter grew louder, swallowing him whole. Numbers danced in his mind—bright, clean, and orderly—offering a sanctuary his real life couldn't. But the numbers couldn't protect him from this.

Why? What did I say wrong? Why are they always laughing at me?

His chest tightened. His hands trembled. He couldn't take it anymore.

He bolted from the classroom, not daring to look back.

His steps faltered as he approached his usual hiding spot. He opened a toilet stall, carefully closed it, and locked the door behind him.

Sitting there alone, he let his thoughts drift. In his imagination, he was not the mocked child. In his mind, he was a monarch with limitless power, capable of creating and altering anything.

Yes, he thought. This imaginary world is my safe haven.

Elion would retreat to this sanctuary whenever the real world became unbearable. Here, he found peace that eluded him elsewhere, even at home. His fantasies were the only escape from the noise, ridicule, and chaos of life.

But soon, the voices of a few boys laughing and joking disturbed his solitude as the restroom door swung open.

"Did you see his face?" a voice echoed, followed by laughter. "He really thought he was a genius or something."

Elion held his breath, hoping they wouldn't notice him. But their conversation continued mercilessly.

"He started talking about the Drake Equation or something. Haha... What the heck was that?"

Their laughter grew louder, tightening the knot in Elion's chest. Suddenly, footsteps approached his stall.

"Do you think he's in here? I saw him running this way earlier."

The door to Elion's stall trembled as one of them pushed against it, despite it being locked.

"Hey, Elion! You're in there, right?"

They waited, but Elion remained silent, praying they would give up.

"Do you think you can hide forever? Okay, let's make this even more entertaining for 'Mr. Smart Guy.'"

Elion heard quick steps leave the bathroom, then return, carrying something heavy: a cleaning bucket from the janitor's closet.

"Gentlemen, get ready! We are going to make this extra special!" the voice sneered, and Elion could hear zippers being undone.

Fear washed over him. They began urinating into the bucket while giggling maniacally. Elion squeezed his eyes shut, pretending it was all a nightmare. But the bitter truth struck harder than any dream.

When the bucket was full, one of them raised it over the stall.

"Think you're smarter than everyone else, huh? Let's see how smart you look covered in this."

"N-No!" Elion screamed as the liquid began pouring over his head like a waterfall.

SPLASH!

In an instant, the foul liquid soaked him from head to toe, drenching his hair and clothes. He choked on the stench, which hit him like a physical blow.

"Look at him now! Our King is taking his royal bath!" one of them yelled, their voice dripping with mockery, cutting through Elion's heart.

Frozen, Elion trembled as the stinking liquid seeped into his skin, burning his dignity more than his body.

The mockery of his classmates faded into a distant echo as his surroundings blurred.

A vice tightened around his chest, pressing against his heart, yet the tears would not come.

It was as if he had forgotten how to cry, how to release the pain trapped inside him.

His mind screamed, but no sound escaped his lips. Why? he thought, over and over. Why is this happening to me? What did I do wrong?

His tears mixed with the urine, warm against his cold, clammy skin, but the pain inside was far colder.

He wanted to disappear—no, more than that—he wanted the world itself to vanish, along with everyone in it.

They should all disappear. This world should be destroyed.

He gripped his arms tightly, as if that little pain could drown out the overwhelming feelings swirling within him: anger, shame, fear. All of them crashed over him, drowning him and making him gasp for air.

"Alright, 'Genius'" They screamed, "Have fun with that!" before leaving, their laughter fading into the distance.

Elion remained there, terrified. The stench hung in the air, filling the small space. Shame, pain, and humiliation persisted within him. He closed his eyes and sank into his imagination. There was no pain or mockery. He was still in charge, apart from the misery of the real world.

Hours later, the school bell rang loudly, echoing through the restroom and waking Elion from his dream.

"Ah... time to go home," he said quietly, biting his bottom lip. He dreaded going home, loathing it even more than school.

When he arrived, his mother would greet him with the same harsh words: he was useless, and she felt humiliated to have a son like him.

But Elion had no choice. No matter how much he despised it, home was the only place he could go.

Everything changed when he asked a question at the age of seven.

"Dad, I saw Mom holding hands with a man yesterday after school. They visited the Cupid Hotel. I heard the neighbor talking about it. They say it's a place where people can have fun. Is it true, Dad?"

His innocent query had sent his father into a rage. The disputes between his parents escalated over the following days, leading to an inevitable divorce.

Elion had a perfect memory since birth. He could recall everything he saw, heard, or read with perfect clarity. But that wonderful recollection was the catalyst for his family's demise.

Bad luck struck his mother. At the time of the split, Elion's father was unemployed, so she was granted custody.

Following that, her behavior changed drastically. She stopped smiling, drank every day, failed to feed Elion properly, and abused him whenever she could.

Seeing his family destroyed, Elion gradually began to feel it was all his fault. That was why he always remained silent and accepted the abuse.

Seven years had passed since the divorce, and today Elion turned 14, yet his mother had not changed.

When he arrived home, he found her passed out on the dining table, seven empty bottles of alcohol scattered around her.

But the moment Elion walked in, she stirred, her eyes narrowing as she caught a whiff of the stench emanating from him.

"What the hell are you doing coming home so late?" Her voice dripped with venom. "And what's that smell?"

She stood up and approached him, her face contorting in disgust as she realized the odor was coming from her son.

"You, ungrateful little shit! Every single day, you manage to disgrace me in some way."

Knowing what was coming, Elion remained silent. She slapped him hard across the face and then kicked him in the gut. He stumbled, nearly falling, before she shoved him into the bathroom.

"Get in there!" she screamed.

She grabbed a pail of hot water that she had prepared earlier and dumped it on him without hesitation.

The boiling water struck Elion's body, causing him to cry out in shock. His skin burned and turned crimson from the heat.

"If only you had never been born," she spat, her eyes filled with rage. "My life would've been so much better."

Elion stood there, water streaming down his body, feeling more shattered than ever. The agony and shame he had felt for so long rushed over him again, filling his thoughts. There was no safe place for him, not even in his own home.

That night, Elion sat in the corner of his cramped bedroom, the small window above him offering a view of the dark night sky. The world outside felt distant, much like him—isolated and unwanted.

Within his mind, his imagination began to take over. In his imaginary world, he was not weak. He was not unwanted. In his fantasy, he was the most powerful, revered, and respected by all.

But in reality, he was just a boy who was tired. Tired of being ignored, tired of being unappreciated, and most of all, tired of being alone. Slowly, a dark thought crept into his mind.

"If only the world would just disappear... if only all the people who hurt me would vanish."

As the thought grew stronger, Elion fell asleep.

However, when he woke up tomorrow, everything would change. The world he knew would be gone, leaving him completely alone.

Ding!

[Imagination System Activation Initiated…]

[Imagination System Activated.]

[Your imagination has always been your refuge. Now it is your weapon.]

[With the help of the system, all your imaginations can become reality.]

[Good luck!]

Asleep, he didn't hear any of those voices. He would only learn about how the world had changed tomorrow.