My eyes snapped open to the sound of kids yelling somewhere in the distance. For a second, I just lay there, staring up at a plain, cracked ceiling. Definitely not the sky I expected to see.
Turning my head, I noticed rows of old bunk beds, squeaky and worn, lined against the walls. The faint smell of boiled rice mixed with disinfectant hung in the air. An orphanage.
I pushed myself up slowly, and that's when I realized something was wrong. My body felt smaller. My hands—thin, pale—definitely not mine. Well, it was expected.
A rush of memories slammed into my head—blurry at first, then sharper. A boy's laughter. Nights of hunger. The heavy feeling of being ignored. The name "Su Xing" echoing over and over. My chest tightened, like I'd lived through it myself.
Clutching my forehead, I winced as the memories forced themselves into place. Orphan since birth. Twelve years old. Growing up in this run-down place in China with nothing but scraps and a shared bed.
When the pain finally faded, I sat there on the mattress, sweat dripping down my face.
"…Su Xing," I whispered, the name rolling off my tongue like it had always belonged to me.
I sat there, trying to calm down. From the looks of it, I had actually transmigrated into this boy's body. His life was so empty it almost felt like he didn't exist. Barely a handful of real interactions in twelve whole years. I sighed.
My thoughts drifted back to my old life—my family. They weren't the best, but they never judged me for being a shut-in. At least I had that.
...
"Well then… did I get a power or something? System?" I muttered, half-expecting something to happen.
I waited. A minute passed. Nothing.
"Yeah, figured," I said, forcing a small smile to hide the disappointment. "I never really expected a glowing screen to pop up."
"I guess I should focus on entering the First God's Sanctuary as soon as possible," I muttered, standing up.
I was twelve now. In two years, I'd be on my own, cut off even from the orphanage. And at sixteen, I'd finally be allowed into the First God's Sanctuary.
"So I need to get stronger, build some muscle, and figure out what I can do before then, huh?" I whispered to myself before heading off.
It was meal time, and from the looks of it, classes would start again in just a few minutes.
From Su Xing's memories, I knew they taught the usual subjects here—mathematics, English, the basics you'd find anywhere. Nothing special.
"Honestly," I muttered to myself, "I half-expected them to be teaching about weapons, survival tactics, maybe even battle knowledge for the God's Sanctuary. But I guess… it really is just an orphanage after all."
---
One Year Later
Time slipped by faster than I realized. It's already been over a year since I woke up in this body, and looking back, I suppose I've made some progress. My English is much better now, and I've picked up a decent understanding of basic mathematics too.
Life here isn't particularly hard. Every day follows the same rhythm: wake up early, wash up, eat breakfast, study until meal time. Then a long, almost endless break of two and a half hours before studying again, and finally, sleep.
It's a simple life. Comfortable, even. But it's also painfully dull. There are no relatives waiting for me on weekends, no visits or warm welcomes. And for reasons I still don't fully understand, the other kids keep their distance. They avoid me, like I'm carrying some invisible barrier. A whole year has passed, and I still haven't managed to make a single friend.
---
POV: MC
"...248, 249, 250… huff… huff…"
I exhaled sharply and pushed myself up from the floor, my arms burning with exhaustion. Sweat ran down my face, but I stood tall after completing two hundred and fifty push-ups in one go.
It had been difficult in the beginning, but I've always liked exercising. The challenge, the pain, the slow but steady progress—it's something I could rely on. And over time, I managed to get myself into shape.
"Info," I said aloud, and just like that, a translucent screen shimmered into existence before me.
It wasn't anything like the grand, complex systems I used to read about in novels. No quests, no rewards, no flashy numbers. Just one simple thing: information about my powers.
How I discovered it was almost laughable. One random day, I was reading a book, and the word info happened to be in a sentence. I repeated it out loud without thinking, and to my shock, the screen appeared. That was the moment I realized this world wasn't as simple as it looked.
"But man… this really sucks," I muttered, dragging a hand down my face. "To think I could see my power level all this time, yet I didn't even know how to unlock it for two whole months after coming here."
I let out a heavy sigh as I stared at the faint glow of the screen in front of me, its light reflecting in my tired eyes.
The translucent screen flickered to life, the words forming slowly like mist carving itself into glass.
---
[INFO PANEL]
Name: Su Xing
Age: 13
Race: Human
[Lightning Arts – Phase 1] [Locked]
Information: err_24
Note: Enter the First God's Sanctuary to unlock Phase 1 abilities.
---
I stared at it for a long moment, my brows furrowing.
"No matter how much I look at it, it's still the same huh? This feels like I'm dealing with some kind of broken computer." I said, somewhat disappointed.
I clenched my fists. Lightning Arts. The name alone was enough to stir something inside me, like an itch under my skin. But it was sealed. Completely untouchable until I reached the First God's Sanctuary.
"Figures," I muttered bitterly. "Of course the good stuff's locked away until I risk my life in some godforsaken trial."
Still… I couldn't help but feel a little thrill run down my spine. Lightning. The screen didn't lie. I really did have powers—it wasn't just my imagination. The thought made my chest tighten, half with excitement, half with frustration.
"Two more years…" I whispered, my eyes fixed on the words Phase 1 – Locked. "I just have to survive two more years, and then…"
The screen flickered once, then vanished, leaving me in silence.
I let out a shaky breath, wiping the sweat from my forehead. The path ahead was clear now. Hard, unfair, and maybe even suicidal—but it was mine to walk.