"No… don't go…"
Arthur jolted awake, drenched in sweat, his chest heaving.
Another nightmare.
The same one that had haunted him for years:
The flames devouring their home.
His mother's screams for help.
His father's back disappearing into the smoke.
Arthur had tried to move. He really had. But his legs wouldn't listen.
They felt… hollow. Like they weren't even there.
"F*ck... this nightmare again."
He sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on knees, hands dragging down his face.
Minutes passed. He tried to trace what was different about the dream this time—but it was always the same.
Always her screams.
Always his failure.
He got dressed in silence and headed to school. Another day in the same cage.
Arthur used to be a good kid.
He once followed in his father's footsteps with pride.
"I'll be just like Daddy," he'd whisper to himself, dreaming of becoming a hero. A policeman. A protector.
And his mother? She was his world. They laughed, they cooked, they sang in the kitchen while the sun kissed the windowpane.
They were a family.
They were happy.
Until they weren't.
At school, Arthur barely spoke. Kept his head down. The whispers around him were louder than his thoughts.
"His mom's a whore. Restaurant by day, hoehouse by night."
"His dad killed someone. Suicide in prison. Coward."
They didn't whisper because of who Arthur was.
They whispered because of who he loved.
His heroes.
"Why me?"
"Why am I the one bleeding? I didn't do anything wrong…"
"I just want to protect my mom. She's all I have left…"
When school ended, he didn't walk home.
He escaped—upward, to the rooftop. His only safe place in a city that hated him.
He pulled out a book.
"Evolution of the Broken."
His father had bought it before he died.
Arthur hadn't read past chapter one.
"Interesting… maybe one day I'll be the MC," he whispered to no one.
"Maybe a system will choose me too."
CREEEAK
The front door groaned open.
Arthur climbed down from the roof.
"You still haven't fixed this damn door," a voice growled.
It was the landlord. Old. Angry. And loud.
"Two months late. You've got till morning. Pack your sh*t."
His mother begged. Pleaded. Her voice trembled.
But the old man didn't care.
"You're lucky I didn't throw you out tonight."
When he left, Arthur rushed to her.
She was on her knees, staring at nothing, with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
She had lost hope. No—she had lost the need for hope.
"Mom… we'll figure this out. I'll get a job. I'll talk to him. We can sell some stuff, okay? Please… just look at me."
She didn't. Not at first.
But when she did—she broke.
Collapsed into his chest, her fists pounding his back, her tears soaking his shirt.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. Over. And over. And over.
Arthur's hands trembled as he held her. His eyes burned, but he swallowed the pain.
"It'll get better, Mom… I promise."
And he meant it. Even if his world was falling apart, even if no one believed in him anymore—he still had her.
She went to her room, looking for anything they could sell.
She found a photo.
Her husband holding baby Arthur like a football, her younger self scolding him with a smile.
"I miss you, Kevin… I hope you're somewhere better."
That night, they gathered what little they had left:
A TV. A washing machine. Old clothes.
Arthur wasn't sure how he'd sell any of it. But he had no choice.
"Get some rest, Mom," he whispered.
Then he went back to the roof.
His temple in the storm.
He didn't sleep. Just stared at the rising sun.
His stomach was empty, but his thoughts were louder.
"How did it come to this?"
He opened the book again.
'Life points can be transferred into money.'
"Yeah right… like any system would ever be that kind."
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
It was the landlord.
Arthur opened the door.
"Where's your mother?"
"She's resting," Arthur said, barely meeting his eyes. "Please… just one more week. We're selling things. I found a job. Just... one more week."
The boy looked broken.
Dark circles under his eyes. Hands shaking.
But there was something in his gaze…
Conviction.
The landlord paused. Then nodded.
"One week. That's it."
Arthur bowed his head.
"Thank you."
His mother woke up to the news and smiled at him through tired eyes.
He smiled back.
They posted everything online, hoping someone—anyone—would buy.
Arthur then went to the city center.
He knocked on doors. Sixteen different shops.
No one wanted him.
Until he saw the construction site.
It was loud. Busy. Full of muscle-bound men twice his size.
He walked straight into it.
"You sure you can survive this place, kid?" the boss asked.
The workers laughed. Skinny boy. Pale skin. What a joke.
But the boss didn't laugh.
He saw the look in Arthur's eyes.
Not fear. Not hope.
Just emptiness.
"Yes, sir. I'll try my best not to slow you down."
The boss stared for a long second.
Then pulled $20 from his pocket.
"Come back tomorrow. And eat something."
Arthur took it with a slight bow.
He knew it wasn't pity—it was a test.
And tomorrow? He'd pass it.
"Thank you. See you tomorrow."
He walked away, head high.
That night was the last time Arthur felt like a child.
Tomorrow, he would carry the weight of a man.
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First chapter, I got a story in my mind that it might last more than 200 chapters, matter of fact it might last 500