"You motherfu—" Jayden roared, throwing a fist straight at the kid's face.
But the boy didn't even blink. He just stood there like he already knew what was coming. The lack of reaction made Jayden freeze for a moment, tension locking his body in place. His fist was just a second away from impact when something cut through the air behind him.
"Jayden! Come here!" a woman's voice echoed from the living room.
Jayden stopped mid-swing. The blood drained from his face. That voice tore through him like a dagger. Slowly, he turned his head toward the sound, dread crawling up his spine. She was standing there, glancing in his direction, calling him as if none of the years had passed.
He didn't move. He couldn't. His soul was trembling, every nerve in his body wired with an instinct he hadn't felt in years. His fingers curled into fists so tight his nails pierced his palms. Deep within, memories he had buried clawed their way back.
Seconds later, a much younger version of himself entered the room—small, pale, and shaking. Fear gripped every part of him, visible in how he moved and breathed. He walked toward the woman like a prisoner on the way to execution.
"How many times did I tell you not to upset your older brother and sister?" the woman asked.
"But mother—"
Slap.
The sound exploded through the room as her hand cracked against the boy's face, sending his head snapping to the side.
"You little bastard! Are you trying to ruin my future too?" she screamed, her face twisted with rage. "How many times do I have to remind you to be grateful you even get to breathe in this house? If you don't care about anything, you'd be better off dead, just like your pathetic father!"
Her fists came down hard. The boy didn't even scream—he just curled inward as she kept hitting him, her knuckles raw and her fury boundless.
"Why? Why are you doing this?" the child sobbed.
"Why?" she repeated, her voice cracked and filled with hate. "Because without you, I'd be free. I wouldn't be chained to this life. You're a mistake I'll never stop paying for."
The scene flickered. Then it changed.
Jayden watched version after version of himself getting beaten, screamed at, thrown to the floor for crimes as small as speaking too loud or being seen in the wrong place at the wrong time. The pain wasn't just physical—it was slow, psychological erosion, and it played again and again with sickening clarity.
"Oh? That's too much?" the teenage version of Jayden asked with a smirk. "Don't worry. We're just getting started."
"Stop—" Jayden tried to interrupt, but the scenery changed again.
---
"Did you level up again, Melina?" a girl's voice asked with interest.
"Of course," Melina replied with a smug grin. "With my talent—and my boyfriend's help—it's a breeze."
"Speaking of your boyfriend," another girl giggled, "he's one lucky guy to have someone like you."
Melina rolled her eyes with mock modesty. "Tsk. Not just cute—I have my own servant too."
The other girls looked confused until Melina pulled out a small bell and shook it with a wicked smile.
Moments later, a younger Jayden entered the room. Maybe fourteen. Thin, quiet, hesitant. His posture said everything.
"H-how can I help you?" he asked softly.
Slap.
Melina smacked him without hesitation.
"You mean: How may I help you, miss? Right?" she corrected him with her arms folded.
"H-how may I help you, miss?" he repeated, his voice cracking.
"You disgusting little bastard," she said, smirking. She looked over her shoulder at the others. "This pathetic thing is my stepbrother. My dad got involved with his stupid mother and let them move in. We're just waiting for him to wake up and kick both of them out."
One of the girls blinked. "Wait...he's your stepbrother?"
"Yeah. Can you believe it?" Melina spat. "He just sits around playing games all day. I've already banned him from playing any of the games I'm in. The idea that he's running free in the same world as me makes me sick."
"Haha, imagine if he turned out to be someone big...like Nova," one girl joked.
Melina laughed louder. "If this loser is Nova, I'll make myself President of the Interstellar Alliance."
The laughter echoed all around. Jayden remembered every word. Every chuckle. Every sneer. The mocking tone was burned into his skull.
His hands were trembling, his body heavier by the second. He couldn't move, couldn't speak. The memories pulled him down like chains made of iron. He had lived it all once, and now he was reliving every step like it had just happened.
"Still hanging in there?" the younger Jayden asked, chuckling darkly. "You really are the same guy. All this time, and you're still just...this. A coward."
Jayden said nothing. His eyes were bloodshot. His lips drawn tight.
The world shifted again.
This time, it wasn't screaming or mocking laughter that filled the air. It was the dull, repetitive thud of fists against flesh.
A blond boy stood tall in the middle of a training room. The place was built like a private gym—pristine floors, punching bags, sparring mats, weapons on racks. But there was nothing disciplined or noble about what was happening here.
Jayden was on the floor, hunched over, struggling to breathe.
"Sebastian, please... I told you, I'm not strong. I don't know how to fight," he begged.
"Shut up, dog!" Sebastian snarled, slamming a kick into Jayden's gut. "You don't understand the shame I carry, the humiliation of not being ranked top ten. I should be feared. I should be famous. And you? You get to be invisible. You don't know what pressure is."
Every word came with another kick, another punch, another verbal lashing. Sebastian, Jayden's older stepbrother, had been consumed with bitterness and rage. His mediocrity in the virtual world became Jayden's burden to bear in the real one.
Jayden had forgotten some of these beatings. But now, as each one replayed before his eyes, it was like reliving them blow for blow. There were no allies. No family. No mercy.
More scenes followed—faster, sharper, more disjointed. A dozen Jaydens across time, flinching from the strike before it landed. A hundred slaps, kicks, bruises, betrayals. People he'd trusted turning their backs. People he'd loved tearing him down. His mind felt like it was unraveling as he was forced to watch it all, again and again.
And still, he didn't speak.
---
The world around him was chaos — fire raining from above, the final boss screaming in its death throes, its health bar blinking red.
"Nova, we've almost got it!" Varyn shouted.
Jayden didn't respond. His focus was razor-sharp, reading the boss's final pattern. Just one more sequence.
Suddenly, a strange glow pulsed beneath him.
"What the hell is this?" he asked, stepping back, but the glyphs under his feet locked him in place.
Lily's voice cut through the static. "I'm sorry…"
Before he could ask, a blinding light erupted from the circle. His limbs froze. Every item in his inventory vanished one by one. A cold system message scrolled across his retina:
"Ancient Curse of Ruin active!"
His screen dimmed. His character fell to his knees as the armor covering his body dissolved into nothing.
He looked up, and they were all staring at him — Varyn, Lily, Ravenor… every top guild member, their eyes filled with guilt. None stepped forward. None helped.
"Why…?" Jayden whispered.
"You were too powerful," Varyn muttered. "Too famous. Too untouchable. We could never be more than your shadows."
"And the curse?" Jayden growled.
"Prepared months ago," Lily said, not bothering to hide the smirk. "We just needed you to drop your guard."
Jayden was speechless.
Years. Years of loyalty and leadership, gone in a moment.
A week later, the guild released a public statement:
"Nova, the legend, has chosen to retire after completing every challenge known to mankind. He wishes to leave quietly, as a hero, without interviews or fanfare."
The world mourned a champion who never got to tell his side.
Jayden watched from the shadows, a level 1 ghost in the system, his name now a monument built on lies.
---
He just stood there, frozen. The weight of a life unloved and unwanted sitting squarely on his chest.
Finally, the torrent of memories stopped. The world around him returned to the tree, the swing, the soft green forest. The younger Jayden was still there, standing where the nightmare had started.