I stared at the floating system screen, still pulsing like it had something urgent to say.
> **[Daily Quest Unlocked]**
> **Objective: Complete Strength & Endurance Protocol**
> **Time Limit: 24 Hours**
> **Failure Consequence: Random teleportation within 200 km radius and mild disappointment**
Twenty-four hours. That sounded generous—until I remembered yesterday's reward: a glorious 0.1% progress. I sighed, rubbed my face, and ignored the screen like it was a clingy ex. Instead, I headed to the kitchen, sat down, and stared at my breakfast: two slices of toast, one burnt, one suspiciously soggy. I chewed slowly, letting my mind drift.
Then I remembered Rohit.
My brother.
The way he'd dropped the news like a business memo. Married. Staying in the US. Never coming back. No emotion. No explanation. Just a clean break, like we were a spreadsheet he'd closed for good.
I stared at the toast, appetite fading. I hadn't even processed it properly. Mom had locked herself in her room. I'd yelled. Rohit hadn't flinched. And now I was here, doing push-ups for a system that threatened teleportation.
Before I could spiral deeper, the front door creaked open.
Sonia stepped in, quiet this time. No dramatic entrance. No bag of chips. Just her, standing in the doorway with her hands tucked into her sleeves and a look that didn't match her usual stormy confidence.
"I didn't knock," she said softly. "I wasn't sure if you'd want to see me."
I blinked. "You're here early."
She stepped in, glanced around, and sat across from me. Her eyes flicked past the hovering system screen—but didn't react. She couldn't see it.
"I came to say sorry," she said, voice low. "About yesterday. I shouldn't have left like that. No explanation. Just… vanished."
I didn't say anything. Just nodded, letting her speak.
"I panicked," she continued. "I got that call, and everything in me just… locked up. I didn't know how to explain it. I didn't want you to see me like that."
I looked at her, really looked. Her usual fire was dimmed, replaced by something quieter. Guilt, maybe. Or fear.
"You don't have to explain everything," I said. "But disappearing without a word? That sucked."
She nodded. "I know. I just… I didn't want to drag you into my mess."
I snorted. "Too late. I'm already in a mess. You just walked into it."
Her eyes flicked to the screen again. Nothing. Just air to her. She couldn't see the countdown, the quest, the threat of being randomly launched into a wheat field.
"What mess?" she asked.
I hesitated. "It's… complicated."
She raised an eyebrow. "Goldy complicated or actual complicated?"
"System-quest-life-threatening-teleportation complicated."
She blinked. "Okay, that's new."
I sighed. "I'll explain. But first, toast?"
She smiled, faint but real. "Only if it's not the one that looks like it fought a microwave."
I handed her the less-burnt slice. "Peace offering."
She took it, and for a moment, the tension eased. The screen pulsed quietly in the background, waiting. But for now, I had toast, an apology, and Sonia—still here, still trying.
Absolutely, Goldy—here's the continuation of your scene, with Sonia asking more about the system and quests, drawing on her love of Korean level-up comics. The tone stays playful, curious, and emotionally grounded:
---
Sonia sat beside me, arms crossed, eyes wide. "Okay. Start talking."
So I did.
I told her everything. The man in white. The powers. The assassins. The glitch. The system. The quests. The threat of random teleportation. All of it.
She didn't interrupt. Just listened. Her expression shifted from disbelief to concern to something else—something familiar. Curiosity.
When I finished, she leaned back slowly. "Okay… so you've basically been drafted into a cursed RPG."
I blinked. "That's one way to put it."
She narrowed her eyes. "Wait. You said there's a system window? Like, floating text? Quests? Progress bars?"
I nodded. "Yeah. It gives me daily tasks. Tracks my Power Sync. Threatens me with teleportation if I slack off."
Her eyes lit up. "Goldy. You're living inside a Korean level-up comic."
I stared. "What?"
"You know—those manhwa where the protagonist wakes up with a system in their head. Quests, stats, sudden power-ups. Usually they start weak, get beat up, then become overpowered and emotionally damaged."
I blinked. "That's… disturbingly accurate."
She leaned in, eyes sparkling like she'd just found out I was the protagonist in her favorite manhwa. "Does it show your stats? Like strength, agility, charisma?"
I grinned. "Actually… yeah. It does."
Her jaw dropped. "No way. You have a status window?"
I nodded and waved my hand like I was swiping through invisible tabs. "Let me read it out. Brace yourself for disappointment."
> **[STATUS WINDOW – USER: VOID]**
> Level: 1
> Health: 100/100
> Stamina: 100/100
> Strength: 6
> Agility: 5
> Intelligence: 7
> Luck: 2
> Power Sync: 12%
> Skills: None
> Titles: None
> Achievements: None
Sonia squinted like she was inspecting a rare Pokémon card. "Okay, so you're basically a noodle with a brain. And cursed luck."
"Excuse me," I said, mock offended. "I'm a noodle with *potential*."
She snorted. "You've got the stats of a side character who dies in chapter two."
"Harsh. But fair."
She leaned back, thoughtful. "So no skills yet. No titles. No achievements. You're a blank slate."
"Yep. Just me, my glitch powers, and a system that threatens to teleport me into a random wheat field if I skip leg day."
She grinned. "Honestly? I'm jealous. You're living the dream. Minus the stabbing."
I raised an eyebrow. "You want in?"
She smirked. "Only if I get a cooler title than 'VOID.'"
I chuckled. "Deal. You can be 'Sonia the Sidekick Who Punches With Love.'"
She rolled her eyes. "I'll take it. But if your luck stat drops any lower, I'm bringing garlic and holy water."
Day Two: stats revealed. Sidekick recruited. System still judging me. But hey—at least I wasn't dying alone.