Arin sat on the porch of his modest house, staring at the horizon with a mix of frustration and unease. The sun was dipping below the treetops, painting the sky in hues of orange and red, but he barely noticed its beauty. His mind was consumed by the system's shocking revelation.
Two weeks.
The words echoed in his mind like a bell tolling. For the next two weeks, he would be without the system's full capabilities. It was absurd, almost cruel. Systems were supposed to merge instantly, granting their hosts unimaginable power. But no, his system had to be from "another dimension," and apparently, merging completely required time.
"How am I supposed to live without you for two weeks?" he muttered to no one in particular, his tone filled with exasperation.
The system's mechanical voice chimed in his ear.
-[Host is advised to focus on building physical and mental resilience during this period. Adaptability is a crucial trait for survival.]-
"Easy for you to say," Arin shot back, his voice laced with sarcasm. "You're not the one stuck without purpose now."
-[Correction: Purpose is not dependent on the system. It is derived from the host's own will. The system enhances, but the host is the foundation.]-
Arin sighed, leaning back against the wooden railing. The system's words made sense, but that didn't make them any easier to accept. He had already begun to imagine the possibilities, the strength, and the freedom that would come with the system's full integration. And now, it felt like it was being dangled in front of him, just out of reach.
After a while, Arin pushed himself up and stretched. The cool evening air had refreshed him somewhat, and he decided it was time to head inside.
As he opened the door and stepped into the living room, his steps faltered. The sight that greeted him was both unexpected and unsettling. Four unfamiliar faces turned to look at him, but the moment recognition dawned, his brow furrowed deeply.
Sitting on the couch was his aunt, Celestia Nightshade. Her strikingly sharp features—high cheekbones, piercing blue eyes, and perfectly styled silver hair—were as intimidating as ever. She carried herself with an air of authority that seemed to command the very space around her.
Next to her sat her husband, Drennan Nightshade, his angular face framed by dark, neatly combed hair streaked with gray at the temples. His lean, wiry frame suggested a man used to control and discipline. His cold, calculating gaze was one that could strip a person bare with a single glance.
To the side stood their eldest son, Dray Nightshade, whose physicality was as imposing as his attitude. Tall and broad-shouldered, Dray's muscular frame was complemented by his chiseled jawline and thick, dark hair that fell just above his brow. His arms were crossed, a smug smirk curling his lips as if daring Arin to speak first.
Leaning casually against the armrest was the younger son, Ealric Nightshade. With his boyish charm, golden curls, and deceptively innocent hazel eyes, Ealric looked every bit the picture of a harmless youth. But Arin knew better. Behind that charming facade lurked a cruel and calculating mind, one that had delighted in making Arin's life a living hell.
For a moment, Arin stood frozen in the doorway. Memories he had tried to bury clawed their way to the surface, vivid and painful.
When Arin was younger, he lived for scraps of affection from his aunt Celestia and uncle Drennan. They were his only connection to the world beyond his isolated existence. Every smile he offered, every small deed, every quiet moment of compliance was his way of saying, Love me, notice me, see me.
But those hopes were dashed on a scorching summer afternoon.
He had been playing in the yard with Ealric, his younger cousin, their laughter ringing out in the stillness of the estate. At least for a fleeting moment, it felt as though he belonged.
"Catch me if you can!" Ealric shouted, darting toward the flowerbed. His golden curls bounced in the sunlight, his voice high-pitched and mocking.
"I'm going to get you!" Arin called back, a smile tugging at his lips.
He ran after Ealric, their small feet kicking up clouds of dust. Just as Arin reached out to tag him, Ealric stumbled and fell, letting out a dramatic wail. Arin skidded to a halt, wide-eyed.
"Are you okay?" he asked, bending down to help.
But Ealric's face twisted, his hazel eyes glinting with malice. "Arin pushed me!" he screamed, his voice carrying across the yard. His hand clutched his knee, though there wasn't a scratch on it.
"What?" Arin's voice cracked in disbelief. "No, I didn't—"
His defense was cut short by the sharp clack of heels on the stone path. Celestia appeared like a storm, her silver hair gleaming under the sun, her face a mask of fury.
"What is going on here?" she demanded, her icy gaze landing on Ealric.
Ealric pointed a trembling finger at Arin, tears streaming down his cheeks. "He pushed me, Mama! He's mean to me!"
Arin shook his head frantically, taking a step back. "I didn't! I swear I didn't!"
Celestia's lips curled into a snarl as she grabbed Arin's arm, her nails digging into his skin. "You little wretch," she hissed. "You dare lay a hand on my son?"
"No, I didn't!" Arin cried, his voice breaking.
Drennan appeared at the door, his tall frame casting a long shadow. "What's going on? What did he do?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
"This filthy brat pushed Ealric! He hurt my golden boy!!" Celestia spat, dragging Arin toward the house.
"No, I didn't! He tripped!" Arin pleaded, twisting in her iron grip.
"Quiet!" Celestia snapped. "You think I'd believe the words of a useless piece of trash like you?"
"You always lie," Celestia added, towering over him. "Just like your parents lied to themselves about what you are."
The rest of the walk to the house was a blur. Arin stumbled as she pulled him along, her strength unyielding despite her slender frame. When they reached the living room, she threw him to the floor.
"Drennan," Celestia barked, "fetch the cane."
Drennan smirked and disappeared into the hallway, returning moments later with the iron-tipped cane. Arin's heart pounded as he tried to crawl backward, but Celestia was quicker. She grabbed him by his shirt and yanked him forward.
Arin's heart pounded in his chest as Celestia barked orders. "Strip him."
"No, please," Arin whimpered, his voice barely audible.
But his pleas fell on deaf ears. Drennan yanked his shirt off with a cruel smirk, leaving him exposed and trembling. Celestia grabbed a pitcher of water from the dining table and splashed its icy contents over his bare skin.
The shock of the cold water made him gasp, his small body shaking as droplets slid down his back.
Celestia raised the cane, her face set in a cold, cruel mask. "Maybe this will teach you to know your place."
The first strike landed with a sickening crack! Arin cried out in pain, his voice raw and desperate.
"You're nothing but a disgrace!" Celestia shouted as the cane descended again.
Crack!
"A stain on this family!"
Crack!
"Just like your worthless mother!"
"You killed them," Celestia said, her voice eerily calm as she raised the cane.
Arin froze, his tear-streaked face lifted to hers in disbelief. "What?"
"Your parents," she hissed. "If my sister had just listened to us, if she'd left you in someone else's care, they'd still be alive. But no, they had to protect you."
"That's not true!" Arin sobbed, shaking his head.
"Shut up!" Celestia snapped, bringing the cane down with a resounding crack!
Arin screamed as pain shot through his back.
"You were trying to hurt my golden boy, weren't you?" Crack!
"I didn't!"
"Liar! Even at eight, you're this wicked to your younger sibling?" Crack!
The words cut deeper than the cane, though the blows left angry red welts blooming across his back. Each strike sent a jolt of agony through his small frame. The sound of the cane echoed through the room, sharp and merciless.
Drennan stood by, watching with a cruel smile, while Ealric and Dray peeked from the hallway, their faces twisted in smug satisfaction.
Arin sobbed, his cries filling the room, but Celestia didn't stop. Blow after blow rained down, her anger unrelenting.
Finally, Celestia stepped back, her chest heaving. "You're lucky we even keep you here," she sneered. "You should be grateful for every crumb we throw your way."
Arin lay trembling on the cold floor, his small frame wracked with sobs.
Ealric approached, crouching beside him. "Next time, remember your place," he whispered, his tone venomous. "You're nothing but a burden."
Dray laughed as he and Ealric sauntered out of the room.
Celestia sneered one last time before turning to her husband. "Clean him up," she ordered curtly. "We can't have him staining the floors."
They left him bleeding and shivering, alone in the darkness. Hours later, Ealric had sauntered up to him, crouching with a grin that sent chills down his spine.
"Next time, remember your place," he had said, his voice a venomous whisper, too vicious for his age. "People like you aren't meant to exist on my level."
Arin clenched his fists as the memory faded, his nails digging into his palms. His gaze shifted to Dray, leaning casually against the wall with that same arrogant smirk that had haunted Arin's nightmares. The day Dray had leveled up his grade was seared into his mind—a day of pain, humiliation, and the dawning realization of just how powerless he truly was.
It had started innocuously enough, with the entire family gathering to celebrate Dray's achievement. Dray had been praised endlessly, the favored son basking in the glow of his success. His mother, Celestia, had made a spectacle of her pride, declaring him a prodigy and the true heir to the Nightshade family's legacy.
"Let's see what you've got, Dray," Drennan had said with a sly grin, handing his son a weighted practice staff.
Dray didn't disappoint. He demonstrated his newly awakened powers with a flourish, the air around him crackling with energy as he manipulated it effortlessly. Everyone applauded, their admiration feeding Dray's ego.
But then his gaze had fallen on Arin.
"You," Dray said, pointing the staff at him. "Come here."
Arin froze, his eight-year-old self shrinking under the weight of Dray's attention.
"Don't just stand there like an idiot," Celestia snapped. "Do what your brother says."
Reluctantly, Arin stepped forward, his small frame dwarfed by Dray's broad-shouldered build.
"Let's see how strong I've really gotten"
Arin looked up to see Dray striding toward him, his broad shoulders squared, his frame radiating newfound power. A faint glow surrounded him, the visible proof of his ascension to the next grade. Behind him, a few of his friends snickered, eager spectators to whatever torment was about to unfold.
"Dray," Arin greeted cautiously, his small hands clutching the spade he'd been using. "Congratulations on leveling up."
Dray's smirk widened. "Oh, you've heard?"
Arin nodded, keeping his eyes down. He knew better than to provoke him.
"Well, then," Dray continued, cracking his knuckles. "What kind of brother would I be if I didn't show you what I can do now?"
"Dray, please—"
Before he could finish, a powerful gust of wind slammed into him, sending him sprawling into the dirt. Arin gasped as the breath was knocked out of him, his head spinning from the impact.
"Get up," Dray ordered, his voice cold. "I haven't even started yet."
Arin struggled to his feet, his small frame trembling. "I didn't do anything to you. Please—"
"Exactly," Dray sneered, stepping closer. "You exist. That's enough."
With a flick of his wrist, a surge of energy erupted from Dray's hand, striking Arin square in the chest. He flew backward, crashing into the garden fence. Pain radiated through his body as he tried to crawl away, but Dray was relentless.
"Come on, Arin," Dray taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. "You're not even trying. Fight back!"
"I can't!" Arin cried, tears streaming down his face.
Dray laughed, a cruel, booming sound that echoed in the yard. "Of course, you can't. You're weak. Useless. You're not even worthy of the Varlin name."
One of Dray's friends chimed in. "Careful, Dray, don't kill him. What would your mom say if her golden boy broke his favorite toy?"
Dray grinned, raising his hand again. "Don't worry. I'll stop before he's completely broken."
The next strike was worse. A searing pain shot through Arin's side, and the world blurred as he collapsed to the ground. He could hear their laughter as darkness closed in around him, their taunts ringing in his ears even as unconsciousness claimed him.
When he woke weeks later, his body ached with every movement, and his skin was marred with bruises that seemed too deep to ever fully heal. It had been their grandfather, a man with little affection but a strict sense of order, who had finally stepped in.
"You've gone too far, Dray," he'd said, his voice like gravel. "Arin may be a burden, but he's still blood. From now on, he stays with me."
Dray had scoffed, unrepentant. "Whatever. I've got no use for him anyway."
Arin had been taken to their grandfather's house, his injuries tended with a cold efficiency that matched the man's demeanor. But even in his new surroundings, the pain lingered—both physical and emotional.
And now, as he stood face-to-face with Dray in the present, the memories burned like embers in his chest. The smirk on Dray's face was a stark reminder of everything he'd endured.
But Arin clenched his fists tighter, his nails digging into his palms. Not anymore, he vowed silently. Never again.
Now, they were all here, in his home.
Arin frowned deeply, ignoring the tension thickening in the air. He moved to head toward his room, wanting nothing to do with them.
"Are you blind, boy?" Celestia's sharp voice rang out, her tone dripping with disdain. "Can't you see us sitting here?"
Arin stopped but didn't turn around. "Why are you here?" he asked coldly, his voice devoid of any warmth.
Celestia stood, her imposing figure towering over him. Her sharp features twisted into a mockery of concern. "What else?" she said, folding her arms. "We're here to take you back with us. You'll live under our roof from now on."
Arin turned slowly, his expression unreadable but his eyes blazing with suppressed emotion. "Take me back? Since when have you cared where I live?"
Drennan rose from his seat, his deep voice carrying a note of command. "Watch your tone, boy. We're doing you a favor. You're family, after all."
"Family?" Arin let out a bitter laugh. "Don't insult my intelligence. We all know how you've treated me. Why would I go anywhere with you?"
Ealric's voice cut in, smug and condescending. "Because it's better than rotting here. Or are you too proud now, Arin? Thinking you're better than us?"
Arin's gaze snapped to Ealric, his jaw tightening. He stepped closer, his tone low and menacing. "Don't test me, Ealric. You don't want to see how much I've changed."
For a moment, the room was silent, the tension crackling like static. Then Celestia broke the silence, her voice sharp. "Enough. We're not asking, Arin. You will come with us. Whether you like it or not."
Arin shook his head, a humorless smile on his lips. "You don't get to decide that. Not anymore."
Dray pushed off the wall, his smirk widening. "Still as mouthy as ever, I see. Maybe you need another lesson."
Arin stepped back, his eyes never leaving Dray's. "You want to try? Go ahead. But don't expect me to be the same boy you bullied."
Dray's smirk faltered, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. Celestia stepped between them, her expression icy.
"We'll see how long that attitude lasts," she said. "You're coming with us, Arin. It's already been decided."
Arin turned away, heading for his room. "We'll see about that," he muttered under his breath.