A faint breeze stirred the golden grass of the Thessalian hills. The morning sun painted the sky in hues of amber and lilac, casting a soft light over a small farmhouse nestled beside a rugged cliff. The bleating of goats echoed gently against the rocks, and a lone figure crouched beside one of them, a cloth soaked in warm water pressed to an open wound.
Leonidas's brows furrowed in concentration. The injured goat—a shaggy black creature with defiant eyes—whimpered, its leg bleeding from a wolf's bite. Leonidas, no more than ten, had the eyes of a much older soul.
"Stay still," he muttered.
The goat bleated as if to argue.
Leonidas offered a faint smile. "I'm not trying to kill you, you stubborn thing."
Though he looked like a child, the mind within him was anything but. He was not of this world, not originally. Once, he had been a high school student in modern-day Earth, just a nameless boy in a world full of noise and meaninglessness. That was until the truck.
He remembered the rain, the screech of tires, the glare of headlights, and then—nothing.
Or rather, a strange, vibrant nothing.
---
The space he found himself in after death was unlike anything the boy had imagined. Floating above a sea of stars, in a realm of music and laughter, stood a blue-skinned man with a peacock feather in his hair and a smile too amused for a god.
"I suppose you were expecting Saint Peter?" the man asked, strumming a flute that produced melodies of color and memory.
"Uh… am I dead?"
"Yes. Very."
"And you are…?"
"Krishna."
Leonidas blinked. "The Hindu god?"
Krishna twirled. "Among other things. God of chaos, balance, war, peace, pranks… And now, apparently, inter-pantheon revenge."
"Revenge?"
Krishna's grin widened. "Zeus did something quite rude. He impregnated one of my maidservants. Naturally, I must respond. But violence is so… crude. So, I'm choosing mischief."
Leonidas stared. "So… you're getting back at Zeus by… reincarnating me?"
"Exactly!" Krishna spun in a pirouette, his flute vanishing and reappearing in a puff of cosmic smoke. "I've selected you to be reborn into the heart of Olympus' dysfunction. The illegitimate son of Zeus—one they will loathe, mistrust, and fear."
"Thanks," Leonidas muttered dryly. "That sounds amazing."
"Oh, it gets better," Krishna added, leaning in conspiratorially. "I'm giving you a gift. A System."
Leonidas perked up. "A… system? Like in a video game?"
"Well, sort of. But this one won't make you overpowered from the start. Where's the fun in that?" Krishna laughed. "Your system will grow with you. It will awaken milestones, reward creativity, and allow you to forge your own abilities."
"No broken starter items? No instant mastery?"
"Only if you earn them. This world doesn't need another brat with god-tier cheats. You'll have to survive, struggle, bleed… and create."
Leonidas felt something stir in his soul—a spark.
Krishna's voice became quieter now, more serious. "The path ahead won't be easy. Olympus is filled with monsters, both divine and mortal. But chaos… favors the bold."
"Will I remember all this?"
"Only as a dream. A whisper. But your soul will know."
Krishna raised his hand and tapped Leonidas on the forehead.
A surge of warmth flooded through him. Symbols, numbers, and glyphs danced across his vision—like data filtering into a new world. And then everything went white.
---
[Return to Present — Healing the Goat]
"Stubborn thing," Leonidas muttered again as he tightened the makeshift bandage.
The goat let out a pained huff and slumped into the straw, but its eyes held a flicker of gratitude. Leonidas wiped the sweat from his brow and leaned back against the stable wall. His hand trembled, not from exhaustion—but from something… else.
That warmth from before. That whisper of a dream. Something ancient stirred in his blood, something divine.
And then—
> Ding!
🜂 System Activation Detected.
🜂 Divine Authority Recognized: Krishna's Blessing
🜂 Lineage Detected: Son of Zeus (Illegitimate)
🜂 Milestone Reached: First Act of Compassion. Healing through Effort.
🜂 Gift Unlocked: Create Skill [1/1]
Leonidas froze.
Floating before him in translucent golden light were words—system prompts, just like in a game. And at the center:
> Create Your First Skill.
His heart pounded. He reached out instinctively, and the system responded.
A new prompt appeared:
> ✦ Describe your intention. What do you want this skill to do?
✦ What is its purpose, origin, and nature?
Leonidas stared at the goat, then at his hands, then back to the golden panel.
His mind raced. "A skill… from compassion. Healing."
He whispered, almost to himself:
> "I want to create a skill… that can transfer part of my vitality to others. A healing not from magic—but from will. From self-sacrifice."
The system shimmered in response.
> Valid Concept: Accepted.
✦ Skill Created: Vital Transfer
Transfer your life force to accelerate the recovery of others. Pain shared is pain halved.
Warning: Overuse may weaken or kill the user.
Leonidas blinked as the golden glow faded, and a faint warmth settled in his chest.
"I just made a skill," he whispered, both terrified and exhilarated.
And then the goat let out a faint, bleary bleat—and tried to stand.
It wobbled, but the bleeding had stopped.
Leonidas fell silent, mind spiraling.
> "This… is real."
His fingers clenched into fists.
The whispers of a god… the curse of divine blood… the life of a bastard demigod cast into a world that wanted him dead or forgotten.
But now—he had a System.
He would need it. Because the world would not be kind.
As the sun crept higher into the sky and the hills glowed gold, Leonidas looked up toward Olympus in the far distance, its peaks hidden behind clouds and arrogance.
He smiled faintly.
> "Now… what skill should I create next?"
The wind carried his voice into the horizon—like a promise.
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