Seeing Arjun's actions, Divya and Zara were frozen in panic and fear. Blood stained his hands and clothes, and he stood murmuring to thin air, his eyes unfocused, as if listening to something only he could hear.
Divya swallowed hard, forcing herself to speak. "Arjun… why did you kill those dogs?"
He had noticed the pattern in the messages. This wasn't chaos—it followed rules. And rules could be tested.
He turned to face them. "I tested my theory. Now I understand—at least partly—how the system works."
"What system?" Zara asked shakily. "The Akasha system?"
"Yes, sis. Mom, I'm going to explain ho—"
His words were cut short by a ringing phone. Divya's phone vibrated in her trembling hand. The caller ID showed Ravi.
She answered immediately.
"Are you all right?" Ravi's perturbed voice echoed through the speaker. "Divya, how are Zara and Arjun?"
"We're fine. Arjun just—"
"MOM!" Arjun shouted suddenly.
Divya flinched.
"Mom," he said urgently, his voice sharp and commanding, "connect this call to all our immediate relatives. Right now. Quickly."
Divya hesitated only a second before nodding. "Alright." She explained briefly to Ravi, then began adding people to the call.
Within moments, three groups were connected.
Philip's family is in Bangalore. Danny's family is in Australia—and Arjun's grandparents in Tanjore.
After a few minutes of hurried questions and reassurances about everyone's safety, Philip finally asked, "Divya, why did you call all of us together?"
"Arjun asked me to," she replied softly.
She turned the phone camera toward him.
The screen filled with the image of a bloodstained teenager holding a knife.
Gasps rang out across the call.
"What—Arjun!" someone shouted.
Philip's voice hardened. "Arjun, what's going on? Why are you covered in blood?"
Before Arjun could answer, Divya spoke, her voice breaking as she explained what had happened.
The call erupted into overlapping voices—questions, accusations, disbelief—none of them giving Arjun a chance to speak.
"System… system…"
The repeated word cut through the noise.
Everyone fell silent.
It was Barath, Philip's eldest son.
"What are you talking about?" Danny asked sharply.
Barath exhaled slowly. "I think I know why Arjun killed the dogs—and what his experiment was."
The tension thickened.
"Then say it," Philip demanded.
"Ask him," Barath replied. "Let him explain."
All eyes turned back to Arjun.
"A few minutes ago," Arjun said steadily, "the Akasha system announced its integration with our world. I wanted to confirm whether the system actually responds to us individually."
"So I tried the first method—calling out to it. I kept saying 'system.'"
He glanced at Barath. "Did anything happen when I did that?"
Barath shook his head. "No response."
"Exactly," Arjun said. "So I tested my second theory."
Silence fell.
"I killed the dogs."
Several people inhaled sharply.
"And then?" Danny asked grimly.
"The system responded," Arjun said. "It activated."
The meaning of his words settled heavily over the call.
"You're saying…" Sana, Philip's wife, whispered, "The system only activates when someone takes a life?"
Arjun didn't answer immediately.
"Yes," he finally said. "That's what it looks like."
A dreadful realisation spread among them.
If they wanted to survive, they would have to kill.
"What does the system say?" Sana asked quietly.
"I don't have time to explain everything right now," Arjun replied. "Barath and Eris—talk to them after this call. Goutham, you explain to my grandparents. We need a plan. Immediately."
As he spoke, he turned toward the remaining dogs, gripping the knife tighter.
"First, kill something," he said. "Anything—a rat, a dog. The system won't activate otherwise. After activation, you can—"
He struck again.
Then he froze.
[DING!]
[Defeated a Level-0 Street Dog]
[Not entered the Tower. No EXP is given.
Arjun let out a slow breath.
"…Scratch that," he said. "After you reach Level 1, start making your own plans."
He looked directly into the camera.
"In one day, the world will be divided into different domains. We don't know if we'll stay connected, so prepare yourselves to lose contact."
"Inside the Tower, first familiarise yourself with the environment. Then focus on levelling up."
"And most importantly—don't act alone. Work together. Only then can we protect our domain."
No one spoke.
Then—
[DING!]
[AGE REGRESSION STARTED]
[CURING ALL COMMON DISEASES AND ILLNESSES]
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then Raj gasped.
On the screen, Arjun's grandfather jerked upright in his chair as if an invisible weight had been ripped from his body. His shallow, labored breathing turned deep and steady. The grey paleness on his face faded, replaced by a faint, healthy flush.
"R‑Raj?" his wife, Padhma, cried, half-rising from her seat. "What's happening? Are you in pain?"
Raj didn't answer immediately.
He stared at his hands.
The liver spots that had darkened his skin for years were fading—no, retreating—like ink washed away by water. The veins that once bulged weakly beneath thin skin firmed. Wrinkles softened, then smoothed.
"I…" His voice cracked. "I feel warm."
He pushed himself up.
Everyone froze.
Raj stood.
Not slowly. Not shakily.
He stood straight.
His hunched back eased, spine lengthening as years seemed to peel away from him. The tremor in his knees vanished. He touched his chest, eyes widening.
"The pain," he whispered. "The cancer pain—it's gone."
Padhma staggered back, staring at him as if seeing a stranger. "Raj… your hair—"
Grey strands were darkening before their eyes.
Not fully black, but no longer the brittle white of old age. His face, once etched with decades of exhaustion and illness, now looked… younger. Ten years. Maybe more.
In Bangalore, Philip sucked in a sharp breath. "My god…"
His wife, Sana clutched her head, then blinked rapidly. "My migraines—they're gone." She stared at her reflection on the phone screen. "My wrinkles… Philip, look at my face."
In Australia, Danny flexed his fingers, then his arms. "My joints," he said hoarsely. "They don't hurt. And—" He laughed, stunned. "I look like I did in my thirties."
Zara pulled off her glasses with shaking hands. She blinked once. Twice.
"I can see," she whispered. "Perfectly." She touched her face.
Divya collapsed into a chair.
The constant fatigue she had lived with for years drained away like a bad dream. The ache in her lower back vanished. She stared at her reflection on the dark phone screen and covered her mouth.
"I look…"
"Younger," Zara finished softly.
On the screen, Raj laughed.
It wasn't the fragile, wheezing sound of an old man.
It was strong.
Some laughed.
Some prayed.
Some simply stared at their younger reflections, unable to speak.
And Arjun said nothing.
He watched the system messages fade, his bloodstained hands clenched at his sides.
Because now he understood. According to the system, these are just common illnesses, then what are serious illnesses?