The neon skyline of Thalos City buzzed softly beneath the fading stars, painting the early morning streets in a sea of glowing glyphs and radiant sigils. Towering holograms lit up corporate monoliths, while sleek sky-trams zipped across elevated rails like silver bullets. It was a city that looked like it belonged in the year 2070—because it did. Drones hovered lazily above, scanning license plates and delivering packages. The streets, though bathed in light, were never truly silent. And on one of those empty sidewalks, curled up in a patch of shadow under a flickering signboard, lay a boy in a wrinkled gray janitor's uniform.
Melric slowly stirred awake, hair sticking in ten directions, a string of drool on his cheek, and a rumble in his stomach that sounded like a dying animal. He groaned, rubbing his eyes, and sat up.
"Ughh... Should've eaten yesterday," he muttered, clutching his stomach. "Note to self: screaming at the sky doesn't give you calories."
He glanced around. People walked past him like he didn't exist. And maybe, in a way, he didn't—not to them. Just a street kid in a dusty uniform.
Suddenly, a ding echoed in his ears.
> [Divine System Activated]
Good morning, Zeus' Heir.
Initiating Primary Quest: PHYSICAL ENHANCEMENT TRIAL
> 🜁 [PHYSICAL ENHANCEMENT TRIAL: INITIATED]
Duration: 8 Weeks
Weekly Objective:
300 Push-ups
300 Sit-ups
Run 20 Kilometers
1-Hour Static Bar Hold
1-Hour Meditation
🚫 No Processed Food Intake
> ⚠ [WARNING: Failure to meet weekly quota will trigger penalties.]
Melric stared at the translucent blue screen hovering in front of his face. His stomach growled again.
"Wait, no processed food?! I haven't even eaten yet!"
> Note: Upon initiation of this quest, hunger will no longer affect your performance. You will only experience physical fatigue, pain, and muscle strain.
He blinked. "...So I won't starve?"
> Correct, Zeus' Heir. But exhaustion and pain? Very much real.
Melric let out a wheezy laugh. "Oh, good. I get to suffer and be broke. What a lovely divine journey."
With a sigh, he dusted himself off and wandered toward the city outskirts. Between the rising sun and rows of digital ads flashing across the skyline, he found a small open field—an odd pocket of green in the heart of a neon jungle.
"Alright. Let's start with push-ups. How hard can it be?"
He dropped to the grass and pushed down—only to immediately shake like a wind-up toy on its last crank. His arms trembled violently as he tried to lower himself.
"W-What the hell?! Why is the air heavy?!"
With a pathetic flop, he collapsed face-first into the grass.
He rolled onto his back, panting. The system screen hovered into view.
> 🜁 [PHYSICAL ENHANCEMENT TRIAL — WEEK 1/8]
Progress:
Push-ups: 1 / 300
Sit-ups: 0 / 300
Running: 0 / 20 km
Bar Hold: 0 / 1 hour
Meditation: 0 / 1 hour
No Processed Food Consumed
"ONE?! That felt like I lifted a mountain!"
He tried again. Shaking. Grunting. Splat.
> 🜁 [PHYSICAL ENHANCEMENT TRIAL — WEEK 1/8]
Progress:
Push-ups: 2 / 300
Sit-ups: 0 / 300
Running: 0 / 20 km
Bar Hold: 0 / 1 hour
Meditation: 0 / 1 hour
"Y-you've gotta be kidding me..."
Another attempt. Splat.
> 🜁 [PHYSICAL ENHANCEMENT TRIAL — WEEK 1/8]
Progress:
Push-ups: 3 / 300
Sit-ups: 0 / 300
Running: 0 / 20 km
Bar Hold: 0 / 1 hour
Meditation: 0 / 1 hour
Melric lay flat on the grass, sweat pouring from his forehead like a faucet. "I'm gonna die. This is it. This is how Zeus' Heir dies. Doing three push-ups."
A passing group of kids stared at him. One pointed. "Hey, look! That hobo's trying to mate with the ground!"
"Why don't you try doing three push-ups, you little brat," Melric hissed under his breath.
But he didn't give up.
Three more. Then another three. Then four. He groaned, growled, and cursed the system to all the gods he could remember. The day crept by, the blue sky slowly melting into warm orange.
By the time the sun set, Melric was drenched, face-down in the grass.
> 🜁 [PHYSICAL ENHANCEMENT TRIAL — WEEK 1/8]
Progress:
Push-ups: 53 / 300
Sit-ups: 0 / 300
Running: 0 / 20 km
Bar Hold: 0 / 1 hour
Meditation: 0 / 1 hour
He barely lifted his head. "Only fifty-three...? I was out here the whole day..."
He groaned. Loudly.
"Yeah. Forget it. Impossible. Just kill me. Call down lightning and smite me already."
But just as he was about to give up, flashes of memory played behind his eyes.
Zeke's mocking laughter.
Hera's fake smile.
The way they looked at him like he was dirt under their boots.
His jaw clenched. "No... I can do this. I have to."
He tried to push again, but his body refused. Exhausted, trembling, and sore in places he didn't even know existed, Melric rolled over and stared at the darkening sky.
Still wearing his gray cleaner's uniform, he remembered something: he hadn't gone home. Not because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't. Zeke and Hera might be watching. Waiting. Ready to pounce.
He sighed. "Ugh. And I need clothes."
A flicker of memory came to him—a younger version of himself, stealing food and jackets from open stalls to survive. The promises he made to never do that again.
But now?
This wasn't about survival.
This was survival world for him.
"With a deep breath to gather his courage, he decided to return home. He would quietly collect his belongings and the money he had saved, choosing to leave under the cover of night—when the streets were empty and Zeke and Hera would likely be fast asleep."
"Alright," he muttered, eyes steeled with resolve. "Late night. No people. Grab my stuff. Get out."
He limped beneath the amber glow of the dying sun, his shadow stretched long over the grass-strewn path that led toward the distant, flickering lights of Thalos. The wind brushed gently through the wild blades, carrying with it the faint scent of smoke, spice, and old stone—a reminder of the city's layered history.
Each step pulled at the soreness in his arms and legs. His body ached from the relentless training, the kind he once thought only heroes endured in stories.
"Just a push-up," he muttered, voice low, almost amused. "I thought it'd be easy… Maybe my body's just pathetic."
His laugh was dry, bitter around the edges, but not without a glint of determination. As the orange sky slowly melted into indigo, he gazed ahead at the city nestled beneath the cliffs, its spires catching the last gold light like daggers of hope.
"The path of divinity sure is hard," he whispered, eyes narrowing. "But… it's divinity after all."
A strange calm settled over him. Somewhere in that glowing city, his old life waited. Somewhere in the days ahead—months, years, who knew—something was bound to change.
He didn't know what he would become. But he knew he'd never be the same.