The soft glow of the panel hadn't vanished.
It hovered silently in front of Rowan's eyes—unmoving, waiting—as if the universe itself had paused to let him catch up.
[Welcome, Player Rowan Smith.]
[You have been selected to participate in the "Conviction Protocol."]
Rowan blinked. Player? he thought to himself.
The panel shimmered again, shifting lines of text like a digital interface from a sci-fi movie.
[You are now a registered user of the Conviction System.]
[You may now set Personal Goals. Completion of goals will reward: EXP (Experience Points) and SP (Stat Points).]
Another soft chime.
You can control the conviction system with mind commands.
Mind commands? Rowan thought to himself.
Yes, mind commands, the system chimed again.
Rowan blinked. So whatever he said inside his mind, the panel would act accordingly.
I can increase my stat points, huh? So what's my present stat now? Rowan thought, as if asking the panel.
Do you want to see your personal profile? the panel chimed.
Yes. Show me my current stats, Rowan ordered.
[You may now view your Status.]
[Opening Player Status Panel...]
A larger translucent screen unfolded in front of him.
---
PLAYER STATUS
Name: Rowan Smith
Age: 10
Level: 1
EXP: 0/100
Unspent Stat Points: 0
[Attributes]
Strength: 8
Stamina: 7
IQ: 12
Perception: 10
Agility: 6
Charisma: 9
[Skill Unlock Thresholds]
First Skill: All Stats ≥ 50
Second Skill: All Stats ≥ 100
Third Skill: All Stats ≥ 150
Fourth Skill: All Stats ≥ 200
---
Rowan stared at it, mind racing. A system. Goals. Stats. Skills. It felt like something out of a video game—except this was real. Real enough to save a country. Real enough to change everything.
Another prompt appeared.
[Set Initial Goal?]
He hesitated, then nodded slightly. Yes.
> Goal: Join a Gym and Begin Physical Training
Description: Strengthen your body for future challenges.
Reward: +10 EXP | +2 Stat Points
Do you confirm? the panel asked.
Confirm, Rowan thought.
Confirmed. The panel flashed. The goal was set.
"Dude, are you really okay?" asked Nick again. Seeing his friend spacing out and staring ahead like a zombie, he couldn't help but become anxious.
Rowan turned to the left, toward Nick.
"Yes. I'm okay. I was just feeling a bit tired. I don't know why," said Rowan.
"Okay, if you say so. Will you go for playing football today? After class we have a match," asked Nick.
"I think I'll pass for today," said Rowan.
⸻
After school ended, Rowan walked home with his heart pounding—not from fear, but anticipation.
His home. It still stood, perfectly familiar. The chipped paint near the mailbox. The creaky front steps. The way the sun hit the windows.
He stepped through the front door. And froze.
There she was.
His mother.
Alive.
She was standing in the kitchen, humming softly, her back to him as she stirred a pot on the stove. Her brown hair was tied up in a loose bun. Her favorite apron—the one with the sunflowers—was still stained with flour.
Rowan couldn't breathe.
In his past life, she had died when he was thirty. A tragic robbery at a bank downtown. She had gone there to help a friend. She was caught in the crossfire. Gone in seconds.
He had never forgiven himself for not being there.
Now, she turned.
"Rowan! You're home early," she said with a warm smile. "Did something happen at school?"
Tears welled up in his eyes before he could stop them. His throat tightened. He ran to her and hugged her fiercely.
"Rowan? What's gotten into you? Is everything okay, honey?" she asked, shocked.
He didn't answer. He couldn't. He just held her tighter, trembling.
He had forgotten how soft her voice was. How safe her arms felt. How much he missed her.
This time… I won't let anything happen to you.
⸻
That night, over dinner, Rowan made his first real move.
"Dad," he began, trying to sound casual. "Can I join a gym?"
His father, a gruff man with a soft heart and tired eyes, nearly dropped his spoon.
"A gym?" he asked, frowning. "You? You don't even like your P.E. class, and you spend half your day watching anime or movies."
Rowan met his father's gaze with calm determination. "I want to change. I want to get stronger."
His father stared at him for a long moment, as if trying to decode the stranger sitting at his dinner table.
"Well," he finally said, scratching his head. "If you're serious, I'll find the money."
Rowan nodded, grateful. "Thank you, Dad."
⸻
Later that night, Rowan lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as the moonlight filtered in.
The system was real. The second chance was real. He didn't know how or why he had been chosen—but he didn't care. It was his now.
He clenched his small fist tightly.
This time, he would not be a broken man on a battlefield.
This time, he would not bury his comrades in unmarked graves.
This time, he would be ready.
Goal: Join Gym — Set.
EXP: 0/100 → 10/100
Stat Points: +2
He smiled.
This time… I would rise.
⸻
The next day, his father gave him money to join a gym before going to the office.
After finishing school like any other day, Rowan went to a gym center.
"Fitness Bar"
Rowan walked to the receptionist.
A young man around 22 years old was sitting at the reception desk. He had structured muscles popping out of his t-shirt.
When Rowan approached, the young man looked at him.
"Boy, are you here to get admitted?"
"Yes."
"Do you want a coach or personal trainer?"
"Personal."
"Are you sure? Seeing your age, I doubt you know anything about workouts. Without guidelines, you may get serious injuries even before you start working," said the receptionist.
"It's okay. I know a little. I just want membership. No coach," said Rowan.
"Okay, if you say so." The young man, named John, completed the procedure and gave Rowan a token.
10275. Rowan's membership number.
"Thanks," said Rowan, and walked inside the gym.
The moment he walked inside—
The panel popped out.
[Mission Complete]
---