The pain didn't fade.
It spread.
Amitesh's back arched as if something inside him had grabbed his spine and pulled. His breath broke into a sound that wasn't fully human—half scream, half choking gasp.
Then his body hit the floor.
Hard.
The world narrowed to heat and pressure and the sickening sensation of something moving where nothing should move.
From his pinky toe, the skin bulged.
Not burst—
pushed.
Thin, dark red strands forced their way out, slick and pulsing, writhing like living nerves exposed to air. They didn't thrash wildly. They searched.
Amitesh screamed.
Gauri was on him instantly.
She slammed a hand over his mouth, crushing his face into the floor, her other arm locking his shoulders down with frightening strength.
"Don't," she hissed into his ear. "Don't you dare let them hear this."
His scream turned into a muffled, animal sound that vibrated through her palm.
The roots tightened.
They latched.
A pressure like bones being dragged backward through memory ripped through him. His vision exploded into white. His body convulsed, heels scraping uselessly against the floor.
Then—
a wet, final pull.
Of her pinky toae.
The strands sank back in.
The skin sealed.
The toe was whole.
Perfect.
As if the injury had never existed.
Amitesh went limp, lungs dragging air like he'd just clawed his way out of deep water. His entire body shook uncontrollably.
Gauri didn't move for a long second.
She stared at his foot.
Then at her hand—still faintly stained.
"…So," she said quietly, voice stripped of humor, "you regenerate."
She leaned closer, lowering her mouth to his ear.
"Now," she added, cold and razor-sharp, "do you feel like saying sorry?"
Before he could answer—
"Amitesh?!"
Priyanka's voice cut through the room.
She rushed in—and stopped dead.
Her eyes locked onto the bloodstain.
Then the position.
Then Gauri pinning him down.
Behind her, Zoey stepped in.
And something in her snapped.
"…What were you doing?" Zoey asked.
Her tone was flat. Dangerous.
Gauri didn't look up.
She tightened her grip just enough to make Amitesh flinch.
"Nothing," she said lightly. "He tried to kiss me."
Amitesh's eyes widened in disbelief.
Zoey's hand went to her weapon.
"I knew it," she said, voice trembling with rage. "I should've killed you long ago."
Priyanka let out a tired breath—too calm, too practiced.
"This is not our fight," she said. "Let young people ruin themselves."
She pulled Zoey away.
Zoey resisted for half a second longer than necessary—eyes burning, finger tense—
then allowed herself to be dragged out.
The door shut.
The silence afterward was worse.
Gauri finally removed her hand.
Amitesh coughed, sucked in air, and laughed once—dry, broken.
"…Glad," he rasped. "I'll never kiss you."
Gauri smiled.
Not kindly.
"I know," she said.
"And you shouldn't even think about it."
She grabbed his collar and hauled him up until their faces were inches apart.
"Because if you do," she whispered, eyes dead serious,
"me and my dad will cut you into pieces and feed you to the dogs."
She released him just enough for him to breathe—but not enough to escape.
"So," she continued, voice dropping, all pretense gone,
"where are we now?"
Her fingers tightened.
"You regenerate.
You hid it.
You lied."
She leaned in, close enough that he could feel her breath.
"Yes," she said softly.
"Now you will say sorry."
Amitesh swallowed.
"…And then," she finished, eyes locking onto his,
"you're going to tell me everything."
Somewhere beyond the room,
the System watched.
And for the first time—
It didn't like what it had just learned.
Amitesh didn't answer immediately.
His throat worked once. Twice.
His body still hadn't caught up with what had happened—muscles trembling, heartbeat too loud in his ears, that lingering phantom sensation of something inside him that didn't belong.
Gauri noticed.
She always did.
"Don't lie," she said calmly. "Your body reacts before your mouth does."
He let out a shaky breath and finally looked at her properly. Not angry. Not scared.
Cornered.
"…I didn't know it would do that," he said.
Gauri's eyes narrowed just a fraction.
"That?"
"The regeneration," he corrected. "The roots. The pain. All of it."
She released his collar but didn't step back. Instead, she crouched so they were eye level.
"Start from the beginning," she said.
"And don't skip the parts that make you look stupid."
Amitesh huffed a weak laugh. "You're enjoying this."
"No," she replied flatly. "I'm assessing risk."
That shut him up.
He leaned back against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting, knees pulled in slightly like he was bracing against something invisible.
"The System didn't tell you everything," he began. "It never does."
Gauri's jaw tightened. "I know."
"When it 'awakens' something," he continued, "it doesn't just open meridians. It plants things. Safety mechanisms. Corrections. Backups."
Her eyes flicked to his foot.
"Like that," she said.
He nodded. "…It called it a failsafe. Said my body would 'self-correct' under lethal stress."
"And didn't mention the screaming,"
Gauri said.
"Or the loss of control," he added quietly. "Or that it feels like being hijacked from the inside."
Silence stretched.
Then Gauri spoke again, slower this time. More careful.
"You weren't supposed to trigger it yet."
Amitesh looked up sharply. "Yet?.
She stood.
That single movement changed the air in the room.
"No one triggers regeneration on accident," she said. "Not that clean. Not that fast. That means it's been growing for a while."
His stomach dropped.
"…How long?"
Gauri didn't answer right away.
Instead, she walked a short distance away, folded her arms, and stared at the wall like it might confess something.
"Long enough," she said finally, "that if it activates fully, you might not get a say anymore."
The words landed heavier than the pain had.
Amitesh swallowed. "A say in what?"
"In healing," she replied.
"In stopping."
"In being human."
The room felt colder.
Somewhere deep inside him, something shifted—subtle, almost pleased.
He flinched.
"You felt that," Gauri said immediately.
"…Yeah."
Her eyes sharpened. Not fear. Recognition.
"Then listen carefully," she said.
"Because this is where apologies stop mattering."
She turned to face him fully.
"My dad hunts things like you," she said. "People who regenerate. People who stop dying properly. People whose bodies start answering to something else."
Amitesh's voice came out rough. "Does he kill them?"
Gauri met his gaze.
"If they're lucky," she said.
A beat.
Then, softer—but somehow worse—
"And if I didn't think you were still you,"
she added,
"I wouldn't be standing this close."
Amitesh closed his eyes for a second.
"…So," he said, forcing steadiness into his voice, "this is the part where you decide whether I'm a threat."
Gauri stepped closer again.
Close enough that he couldn't avoid her eyes.
"No," she said.
"This is the part where you decide."
She leaned in, voice low.
"Because next time that thing inside you moves," she whispered,
"I won't cover your mouth."
She straightened.
"So," she finished, tone returning to sharp and controlled,
"are you ready to say sorry now—"
Her eyes flicked briefly to his foot.
"—and tell me the entire story?"
Amitesh swallowed.
"If I truly speak," he said slowly, "I don't remember anything."
The air changed.
Gauri's fingers curled into a fist so tight her knuckles went white.
"…Fine," she said quietly.
"Then I'll use it."
Amitesh's breath hitched. "Use what?"
She didn't answer.
Her eyes began to glow—
not red, not pink—
both.
A deep, unnatural red-pink light flooded her pupils, spilling outward like ink dropped into water.
Amitesh felt it pull at him.
Before he could look away, his own vision burned.
The same color ignited behind his eyes.
His body stiffened.
His thoughts slowed—then stretched—then opened.
The room dissolved.
.
.
.
She see's through his mind.
30th December, 2025
Time: 7:30 AM
Amitesh jolted awake.
Morning light leaked through the curtains. Too quiet. Too still.
A woman's voice echoed from somewhere nearby—familiar, irritated.
"Your father has already left for work," she said.
"And you're still sleeping?"
Amitesh sat up instantly.
"Yes—yes, I'm awake," he muttered.
His heart was racing for no reason at all.
He grabbed his phone.
No signal.
No internet.
Frowning, he stepped out of his room.
"Mummy," he called, trying to sound casual, "is your phone also not working?"
"Yes," she replied from the kitchen.
"Since morning. What's the problem—can't survive one day without internet?"
"It's not like that," he said, unease crawling up his spine.
The lights flickered.
Then—
darkness.
"Great," his mother sighed. "Now the electricity too."
Amitesh's skin prickled.
"That's… strange."
The scream outside cut off mid-cry.
Amitesh turned toward the window—
And something hit him.
Not a grab.
Not a push.
A shot.
A sharp, whistling crack tore through the air, followed by a brutal impact that punched straight into his chest.
For a split second, his mind refused to process it.
Then the pain arrived.
Not spreading—
driving.
Like a metal slug forcing its way through him.
He staggered back, breath exploding out of his lungs as if someone had slammed a fist straight through his ribs.
His legs gave out and he crashed into the wall, sliding down as his hands flew to his chest.
Something was there.
Embedded.
Hot. Heavy. Throbbing.
His heartbeat went wild, each pulse sending a new wave of agony through his body. His vision blurred, ears ringing like a gun had gone off beside his head.
"What—what—"
Outside, chaos erupted.
People ran past the house, screaming, shoving, falling over each other.
"ZOMBIES—RUN!"
Amitesh tried to stand.
Failed.
The thing in his chest shifted.
Pain spiked so hard his vision went white.
He gasped—and something cracked beneath his skin.
A sensation like roots forcing their way outward, branching, anchoring.
"No…" he whispered, panic clawing up his throat.
The front door slammed open.
He stumbled outside, half-blind, half-choking, every breath shallow and burning. The street had turned into madness—people running in all directions, some screaming, some already silent on the ground.
Then he tripped.
The road slammed into him.
Before he could move, weight crushed down on his chest.
Round shapes. Pale. Wrong.
Mushroom-headed creatures crawled over him, their bodies pressing the air from his lungs. Their mouths opened with wet, eager sounds.
They bit.
Amitesh screamed and thrashed, hands scrabbling wildly until his fingers closed around the knife.
His grip locked.
He slashed upward with everything he had.
The blade met resistance—then gave way. One of the creatures collapsed, buying him a heartbeat. Just one.
His chest burned.
The thing inside him answered.
Pressure surged outward from the point of impact, spreading like a web beneath his skin. He felt it pushing, growing, claiming space that had never belonged to it.
He tried to stand—
And fell again as a hard growth forced him down, pinning him to the ground from the inside.
"No," he gasped through clenched teeth.
"I will not—"
Another creature start growing from his chest.
Amitesh grabbed it with both hands.
Pulled.
Something tore loose with a sickening resistance, and he hacked through
whatever held it, cutting it's roots and ripping it free and throwing it away with a broken shout.
The pressure in his chest peaked.
Then—
Nothing.
The world folded inward.
Sound died.
Light vanished.
When he woke, he was lying alone on the road.
No bodies.
No monsters.
No bloodshed in sight.
Just cracked asphalt beneath him…
and the echo of pain deep in his chest, as if something had entered him—
And never truly left.
The memory collapsed.
Amitesh jerked forward in the present, breath ragged, hands clawing at his chest.
Gauri steadied herself, eyes still faintly glowing as the red-pink light faded.
"…A seed," she said quietly.
Amitesh looked up, shaking.
"It hit me like a bullet," he whispered.
Gauri nodded once.
"And it chose you."
The silence that followed was worse than the screams had been.
Because now—
They both knew.
Amitesh staggered back a step, hand pressed to his chest as if he could still feel the impact.
"How?" he demanded, voice breaking despite his effort to keep it steady.
"Just—how…?"
He looked at Gauri, eyes wide, searching.
"How can I be a mushroom-head?"
Gauri didn't answer immediately.
She studied him the way a doctor studies an X-ray—detached, sharp, looking past the surface.
"…No idea," she said finally.
"But from what I can tell, you don't have the mushroom."
Amitesh frowned. "Then what do I have?"
She tapped her temple lightly.
"The core," she said.
"The most important part."
She met his gaze.
"It's like having a CPU without the rest of the computer.
No screen.
No mouse.
No keyboard."
A pause.
"Powerful," she continued, "but incomplete."
Amitesh's stomach twisted.
"Then what was that just now?" he asked quietly. "That memory—"
"My special skill," Gauri replied.
The air rippled.
Golden light flickered into existence.
The System materialized, text forming far more slowly than usual.
GAURI — SYSTEM MASTER (RESTRICTED)
SPECIAL SKILL: HYPNOSIS (MENTAL DOMINANCE TYPE)
Amitesh clenched his fists so hard his nails dug into his palms.
The glow reflected in his eyes—but he didn't look away.
"I am still human," he said.
Each word deliberate. Forced.
As if saying it out loud was the only thing holding him together.
The System didn't respond.
Gauri looked at him for a long moment.
Then she nodded.
"Yes," she said.
"You are."
Relief flickered through his chest—
And died with her next words.
"But you're also…" she hesitated, choosing carefully,
"…not entirely human anymore."
The silence that followed pressed down on him harder than any pain had.
Amitesh swallowed.
"…How much?" he asked.
Gauri exhaled slowly.
"That," she said, eyes darkening,
"depends on what wakes up next."
Somewhere deep inside Amitesh,
beneath bone and breath and fear-
Something listened.
And for the first time,
It didn't feel asleep.
.
.
.
Day 4: Combat Training
Zoey stood in front of Amitesh.
Feet planted.
Fists clenched.
Her stance was clean, balanced—someone who knew exactly how to break a body apart.
Her eyes burned.
Not rage.
Focus.
Amitesh swallowed.
Amitesh: "…is she planning to kill me?"
System: "I am reasonably certain—yes."
Amitesh shifted his weight back instinctively.
Amitesh: "I knew it. From the moment she said combat training, my life expectancy dropped."
Zoey rolled her shoulders once and raised her fists.
Zoey: "Are you ready?"
Amitesh panicked.
Amitesh: "I swear, I didn't kiss Gauri—"
He didn't finish.
Impact.
A sharp punch snapped his head sideways. Not strong enough to knock him out—
precise enough to teach him a lesson.
Zoey: "Cover your face."
Before his hands fully came up—
Another punch.
Amitesh staggered back, vision spinning.
On the other side, Gauri sat against the wall, legs relaxed, lazily dipping bread into honey.
She watched like this was afternoon entertainment.
Zoey stepped in again.
Zoey: "Eyes. Open."
Amitesh flinched and shut them—
Pain bloomed.
He stumbled, barely staying on his feet.
Gauri hummed, clearly enjoying herself.
Zoey grabbed Amitesh's collar, stopping him from falling.
Her voice dropped. Calm. Ruthless.
Zoey: "That's your problem."
She shoved him back into stance.
Zoey: "You close your eyes when I attack."
Amitesh forced himself to breathe.
Forced his eyes open.
His heart pounded—not from fear anymore, but realization.
This wasn't punishment.
This was correction.
Zoey raised her fist again.
Zoey: "In a real fight, closing your eyes is the same as begging."
She stepped forward.
Zoey: "Again."
Amitesh clenched his teeth.
This time—
He watched.
He kept taking the punches.
Some he blocked properly.
Some crashed into his arms.
Some slipped through and rattled his bones.
His body hurt—but it was learning.
From the wall, Gauri tilted her head, honey dripping slowly from her fingers.
Gauri: "If he only keeps taking punches like that… what's the point of this training?"
Zoey didn't even look back.
Zoey: "He's building it."
Another step forward.
Zoey: "Muscle memory. Keep it up."
She struck again—fast. Clean. No warning.
Amitesh flinched.
His eyes shut on instinct.
Not again—
But this time—
His body moved without asking him.
His arm snapped up.
Angle perfect.
Timing precise.
Block.
Zoey's punch slammed into his forearm instead of his face.
The impact echoed.
Silence.
Amitesh's eyes flew open.
He was still standing.
His arm trembled—but it held.
Gauri straightened slightly, interest replacing amusement.
Zoey froze for half a second.
Then—she smiled.
Not kind.
Not cruel.
Satisfied.
Zoey: "…Good."
Amitesh stared at his own hands like they belonged to someone else.
Amitesh: "I—I didn't—"
System: "Reflex response confirmed.
Neural pathways responding faster than conscious thought."
Zoey stepped back and raised her fists again.
Zoey: "That's what I wanted."
She leaned forward, eyes sharp.
Zoey: "Now do it again."
Amitesh swallowed.
His arms lifted.
His eyes stayed open.
This time—
he was ready.
Zoey didn't slow down.
She sped up.
Punch after punch—
high, low, feints, angles meant to confuse.
Amitesh blocked some.
Missed others.
Each impact rattled deeper, not just his arms—
his balance, his breathing, his confidence.
His thoughts tangled.
Left—no—right—too slow—
Pain stacked.
His arms grew heavy.
His legs shook.
Then—
He failed.
A clean strike slipped past his guard and knocked the air out of him.
Amitesh dropped to one knee.
His vision blurred.
From the wall, Gauri stopped eating.
Zoey didn't attack.
She stood over him.
Zoey: "Get up."
Amitesh tried.
His arms refused.
System: "Warning. Physical limits
approaching."
His chest burned.
Every breath scraped.
Amitesh: "…I can't."
Zoey crouched to his level.
Not angry.
Not mocking.
Cold truth.
Zoey: "Yes. You can."
She straightened and stepped back.
Zoey: "Because this is where fighters are made."
She raised her fist again.
Gauri stood sharply.
Gauri: "Zoey—"
Zoey didn't look away.
Zoey: "If he stops now, he stays weak."
Silence stretched.
Amitesh clenched his teeth.
Something inside him cracked.
Not his body.
His excuses.
He pushed.
His muscles screamed—but moved.
He rose, shaking, barely upright.
Zoey struck.
Fast.
Amitesh's mind went blank.
No fear.
No panic.
Only motion.
Block.
Shift.
Guard.
His body flowed—rough, imperfect, but alive.
A punch grazed him—
another was stopped—
another redirected.
He wasn't thinking.
He was reacting.
The world narrowed.
Heartbeat.
Breath.
Movement.
System:
"—Combat adaptation detected."
"—Reflex threshold breached."
"—Instinct synchronization: ACTIVE."
Zoey attacked harder.
And Amitesh—
didn't fall.
His stance steadied.
His eyes stayed open.
He took a step forward.
Then—
He countered.
Not strong.
Not skilled.
But real.
Zoey stopped instantly.
Her fist froze inches from his face.
Silence.
Amitesh stood there, chest heaving, arms raised, eyes sharp.
He didn't realize it yet—
But he wasn't the same.
Zoey lowered her hands.
Slowly.
Zoey: "…That's it."
Gauri exhaled, tension releasing.
Zoey nodded once.
Zoey: "Day 4 is complete."
Amitesh's legs finally gave out and he collapsed backward, staring at the sky.
Amitesh: "…I hate combat training."
The System flickered.
System: "Noted."
Zoey looked down at him.
A faint, dangerous smile.
Zoey: "Good."
She turned away.
Zoey: "That means it worked."
Amitesh's breath was still ragged.
He should've been done.
He wasn't.
Amitesh: "Hey… wait."
His voice was different.
Low.
Hard.
He lifted his head.
Zoey froze.
Gauri's hand slipped from the honey jar.
Both of them stared.
Amitesh's left eye had turned completely white—
no pupil, no reflection.
Just blank.
His muscles twitched once.
Then swelled—not unnaturally, but tighter, denser, like something had finally switched on.
The air felt heavy.
Gauri took a step back.
Gauri: "…Amitesh?"
The System materialized suddenly—
not golden.
Flashing.
Urgent.
The screen appeared in front of Zoey and Gauri, blocking their view of him.
Red warnings pulsed across it.
System:
"⚠ ALARM."
"⚠ EMERGENCY ACTIVATION DETECTED."
Zoey's eyes narrowed.
Zoey: "What did he do?"
The System hesitated—then spoke faster.
System:
"Amitesh is now drawing upon—"
"—the power of the Muscle Mushroom Head."
Silence.
Behind the screen—
Amitesh stood up.
Completely.
His posture was wrong.
Too steady.
Too controlled.
The white eye slowly turned toward Zoey.
Amitesh: "…You said fighters are made when they don't stop."
His foot slid back into stance.
Natural.
Perfect.
Gauri felt a chill crawl up her spine.
Gauri: "System… can he control that?"
The System flickered violently.
System: "…Control is not guaranteed."
Zoey smiled.
Not excited.
Not afraid.
Thrilled.
She raised her fists again.
Zoey: "Then show me."
Amitesh inhaled.
His muscles pulsed once more.
The ground beneath his foot cracked slightly.
Amitesh: "Round two."
And this time—
He moved first.