Only the blue glow of the monitor illuminated Aryan's face. One eye—the only one he had left—tracked pixels on the screen like a predator. On the other side, where an eye once sat, there was only burnt skin and a black eye patch.
The room was silent, but inside the screen, a war was raging.
Aryan. 30 years old. Former Black-Ops strategist.
Now? A ghost living in a basement.
The right side of his body had been scorched in a fire—a bitter souvenir from a mission gone wrong. To the world, he was dead, or perhaps just useless. But in this digital realm? He was God.
The game was titled: "Empress of the Void."
It wasn't a mere dating simulator. It was a psychological trap. It featured war, politics, and above all—the intoxication of bringing arrogant, cruel goddesses to their knees.
Aryan took a deep breath. "Checkmate," he whispered.
He had achieved the impossible. He had beaten the game using a character named 'Rohan.'
Rohan was the ultimate "trash tier" character. Fat. Ugly. Cowardly. Zero combat capability. Gamers worldwide called it "Impossible Mode." Rohan had no talent, save for one thing—insane endurance and a strange 'hidden trait' the developers had added as a joke.
But Aryan had turned that trash into a weapon.
Suddenly, the screen went black. Aryan thought the game had crashed and was about to slam his mouse when blood-red letters tore through the display:
[SYSTEM ALERT: IMPOSSIBLE SCENARIO CLEARED]
[Anomaly Detected. The Architect is watching.]
The temperature in the room plummeted. Light spilled out from the screen, coalescing into smoke, which then took the form of a woman.
She wasn't a hologram. She was there.
Maya. The Creator of the game. The Goddess of Illusions. Her beauty was so overwhelming it could melt a mortal mind just by processing it. Every curve, every gesture was designed to enslave men.
"So, it's you," her voice was a blend of honey and venom. She looked at Aryan's scarred face—not with hatred or pity, but with curiosity. "A broken toy who solved my most difficult puzzle."
Aryan didn't flinch. He had long since been numbed by pain. "Are you real?" he asked flatly.
Maya laughed, her fingers dancing through the air. "Real? Your entire universe is like a draft copy to me. I was bored. So, I created this game." She peered into Aryan's lone eye. "You made Rohan win. That fat, pathetic worm. He was begging me to release him. He wanted to die."
Aryan shrugged. "Weakness is in the mind, not the stats."
A spark ignited in Maya's eyes. "Interesting. Very interesting." She placed a hand on Aryan's chest. Her touch was ice-cold. "If you think you can turn trash into gold... then prove it yourself."
"What do you mean—"
"I am giving you a new game. No save points. No resets. Only one chance." Maya smiled—a cruel, predatory grin. "Go. And don't let me get bored again."
Before Aryan could comprehend, his world dissolved into white light. Pain? No. It felt like his very existence was being erased.
Drawing breath into his lungs felt like swallowing fire. Aryan opened his eyes.
The ceiling was unfamiliar. Cheap wood. The smell of old dampness. He tried to sit up, but it felt as if lead were strapped to his limbs. He looked at his hands.
Fat. Swollen. His fingers looked like sausages. His lean, muscular, battle-hardened body was gone. The burn scars were gone. He stumbled toward a mirror.
The reflection stared back. A round face. A double chin. Eyes filled with fear and inferiority—which were now slowly being replaced by Aryan's cold, calculating gaze.
He had become Rohan.
"Nonsense," Aryan said in his new, heavy voice.
He looked out the window. On the horizon, a massive tower pierced the clouds: 'The Spire.' This was Earth, but not the one he knew. This was the world of the game—where magic flowed from the Spire and power was the only law.
Suddenly, blue text flashed across his retina:
[SYSTEM INITIALIZED]
[Protocol: Sovereign Domination]
[Host: Rohan (Trash Rank)]
[Objective: Conquest.]
A smirk played on Aryan's lips. Rohan's body might be trash, but the driver had changed.
Suddenly, a loud thud echoed at the door. Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Get out here, you pig!" a girl's sharp voice screamed.
Aryan remembered instantly. This was the tutorial scene. On the other side of that door was Zara. The 'Ice Queen' of the academy. Rich, arrogant, and breathtakingly beautiful.
In the original story, Zara had framed Rohan for planting a camera in the girls' locker room just to grab the attention of her new crush, Vikram (The Golden Boy). Vikram would "save" her, and Rohan would be brutally beaten.
The original Rohan never opened the door. He hid inside, trembling.
But Aryan was not Rohan.
He grabbed a towel, wrapped it around his waist, and walked straight to the door. His body was heavy, but his gait held the confidence of a hunter. He swung the door open.
Zara stood there. She was a masterpiece—platinum hair, violet eyes, and a physique that could drive any man mad. Behind her stood Vikram and the rest of the class.
"You planted the camera, didn't you?" Zara shrieked, crocodile tears welling in her eyes. She was playing the victim perfectly, while Vikram stood tall as her protector. The crowd was ready to tear him apart.
Aryan looked Zara straight in the eyes. He didn't offer an excuse. He didn't flinch. He simply scanned her from head to toe.
"Zara," Aryan said in a calm voice, as if speaking to a child. "Your acting is impressive, but your script is outdated."
The corridor fell deathly silent. The fat, cowardly Rohan... was talking back?
Vikram stepped forward, fists clenched. "Watch your tongue, fatty! Zara is crying and you—"
"And you?" Aryan cut Vikram off. "You're just a puppet, Vikram. This girl is using you to boost her own status, and you've come running like a dog wagging its tail."
Zara's face flushed deep red. Her plan was backfiring. "You're lying! I have proof! We need to search your room!" she yelled, trying to regain control.
Aryan stepped aside, gesturing into the room.
"By all means," he said with a dangerous smile. "But if you find nothing... you will have to pay the price, My Queen."
He emphasized the word 'Queen' in a way that sounded less like a title and more like a threat. Zara felt a shiver run down her spine. The worm she had come to crush had suddenly turned into a cobra.
Aryan knew there was no camera. He also knew that Zara had to be broken today—right here, in front of everyone.
His Domination Protocol was activating.
[Target: Zara]
[Status: Arrogant]
[Conquest Rate: -50%]
[Recommended Action: Humiliation.]
The game had begun. And this time, the hunter was someone else.
The tension in the room was so thick it could be cut with a knife.
Zara's eyes still glistened with fake tears, but behind her, Vikram stood trembling with rage. He was the chosen warrior of "The Hero System." His job was to save 'helpless' girls.
"You made her cry..." Vikram whispered. A golden Aura began to shimmer around his body. It was a display of his power. "I will kill you!"
Vikram attacked without thinking. He threw a straight punch aimed directly at Aryan's face.
The crowd held its breath. A punch from an S-Rank ability athlete could shatter the skull of a fat human like Rohan.
But for Aryan?
Time slowed down.
Streams of data began to flow through his vision.
[THREAT DETECTED: Level 1]
[Trajectory: Linear. Speed: Slow. Technique: Amateur.]
[Counter-Measure: Engage.]
Aryan didn't move from his spot. He didn't even blink.
Just as the punch was an inch away from his face, he tilted his head slightly to the left.
The gust of wind from the fist brushed past his ear.
Vikram lost his balance. He couldn't control the momentum of his own strength.
Aryan didn't even take his hands out of his pockets. He simply stuck his left foot out slightly, hooking it around Vikram's ankle.
THUD!
Vikram flew like a broken puppet, crashing straight into the room's door and hitting the floor face-first. Wood splinters scattered everywhere.
Silence.
The entire corridor turned into stone statues.
The school's 'Golden Boy,' an S-Rank contender... folded in a single second by a fat, Trash-Rank boy?
Aryan looked down at Vikram, who was groaning in pain.
"What's the use of strength if your brain is in your knees?" Aryan said in a cold voice.
The teacher, Mr. Khanna, who had been watching the spectacle until now, finally came to his senses. "Stop it! What is this hooliganism!"
Aryan looked at the teacher with a bored expression. "He attacked. I just... made way."
Then he turned to Zara.
The girl's face had gone pale. Her protector was on the ground. Her plan had failed.
"Now," Aryan said, taking a step forward, "search my room. Now."
Zara stepped back. She knew nothing would be found there.
"N-No... I'm sure you must have hidden it somewhere else," she stammered.
"Scared?" Aryan smiled. The smile did not reach his eyes.
"You accused me. You threw mud on my reputation. Now, if I am proven innocent... you will have to pay for it, Zara."
Hi, author here!
Thanks for reading! And I hope you read the first chapter of this book.
I promise both interesting character and good smut is to come.
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