The schoolyard.
Small, scrawny, quiet RiZu was always that kid sitting alone at lunch. Not because he was weak — but because he saw the world differently. While other kids fought over toys, RiZu built small gadgets from scraps, fixing broken radios, drawing symbols no one understood.
The bullies came often.
"You think you're better than us?"
Thud.
"Freak."
Yet he didn't fight back. He studied them. Watched their patterns. Learned how the world moved.
At night, he'd sneak onto the rooftop of his house in Dhading, meditating under the stars, believing — knowing — he was meant for something greater.