That afternoon, sunlight crept through the large window of Raka's room. Specks of dust danced in the air, as if joining in to celebrate his solitude. Raka sat in front of a mirror, but not to look at himself—he just wanted to see if he still existed.
His pale face was reflected back by a pair of tired eyes. The young man let out a sigh, and the sound of his breath echoed like a ghost in a room far too big for one person. Behind the marble-clad walls and expensive European furniture, there was one thing his wealthy family could never buy: acceptance.
Since childhood, Raka had lived in a long hallway called comparison. "Look at your cousin, top of the class again." "Farel won a gold medal. What did you get?" "Why can't you be more like them, Ra?"
His mother had a talent for weaving sharp words without them looking like knives. His father? Just silence. But a silence heavy with meaning—a silence that said, "I'm disappointed too."
Raka tried. God knows he tried his hardest. A 90 on his report card? "Still below Denis." Won a city-level speech contest? "That's just a small-time competition, Ra." Hobbies like painting, playing guitar, even coding—all dismissed like passing wind. Nothing was ever enough to make his family look at him with pride, instead of comparing him to someone else.
Until one day, the decision finally came. Not a scolding, not advice. But a unilateral severance.
"You have no future here, Raka."
His uncle—the head of the family after grandfather passed away—stood at the doorway of that grand house with an icy face. A few other relatives just stayed silent; some looked down, some pretended to be busy with their phones. His mother cried, though it was unclear what those tears were for. His father... once again, silent.
"This family needs a new generation of quality people. I'm sorry, but you don't make the cut."
The large iron gate slammed shut. Its echo rang out like a death sentence.
---
In his room—now truly empty, because nothing remained but himself—Raka sat slumped on the floor.
He didn't cry. Strangely, the tears refused to come. All he felt was a tightness in his chest, a burning in his gut, and a cold chill over his whole body. Anger, disappointment, pain—all mixed together like leftover food dumped into one pile.
"So... that's how worthless I am?"
He hugged his knees. The city outside the window began to grow dark. Lights turned on one by one, as if cheering for the happiness of other, still-intact families. But not for Raka.
Exactly at seven in the evening—the hour when his extended family usually had dinner together—something happened.
---
Bzzzzzt...
A blue light flickered to life in front of him. Soft, but clear. Not like a shadow or hallucination. A holographic interface with a design he'd never seen before appeared exactly 30 centimeters from his face.
"Welcome, User."
The voice was mechanical, but strangely warm. Like an old radio broadcasting a signal from the future.
"I am the System. Detected: Host is under stress, potential hindered, environment unsupportive. Status: Abandoned by family unit."
Raka froze. He felt around, pinched his cheek, even lightly slapped his own face. "Is this real?"
"Of course it's real. The System does not operate in dreamscapes."
The screen changed. Strange writings appeared, diagrams of his own body, and then a short message:
"System Objective: To guide you into becoming the best version of yourself."
Raka exhaled. Cold sweat dampened his palms. But strangely—instead of fear—the first thing he felt was relief.
Maybe... someone's finally listening to me, huh?
"Is the User willing to begin this journey?" the System asked.
A moment of silence.
Raka stood up. His body was a little unsteady, but his eyes were different now. No longer tired. Instead... they were lit.
"Yes," he said softly. "I'm in."
"Command confirmed. Initializing First Chapter: 'Rise from Zero'."
---
That night, in the quiet, luxurious room, Raka no longer felt empty. Because for the first time in his life, someone—or something—had chosen him.
And he made a vow: the world that threw him away would one day turn its head.
Not out of revenge.
But because they wouldn't believe that the person they treated like trash could shine brighter than any star.