I glared at the screen. "Very funny. Alright, Supreme System, if you're so powerful, what's my first quest? Is it 'Survive a day without being called a disappointment'?"
A chime echoed in my brain, like a polite slap from the heavens.
[New Quest: "Sweat for Survival"]
Objective: Complete 50 push-ups
Reward: +2 Strength | Fire Magic – Level 1
Optional Tip: Try not to die of exhaustion. You're already halfway there.
"…Fifty push-ups?" I said slowly, as if the system had just asked me to bench-press a dragon. "Have you seen my arms? They're basically angry noodles."
[Affirmative. That's why we're starting small. And by 'small', I mean 'physically humiliating'.]
I stared down at my body. My elbows looked like they'd snap under the weight of a strong opinion, let alone my entire torso. My stomach growled weakly in protest probably out of loyalty to my skeletal frame. After years of being denied proper meals ("You didn't earn your breakfast, Arielle" being a family classic), my body had learned to function on crumbs, misery, and spite.
And now, this glorified floating Excel sheet wanted me to do push-ups?
"Alright," I muttered, dragging myself to the dusty floor. "Let's do this. Let's pretend I'm someone with muscles."
I dropped to all fours like a dying squirrel. My knees cracked. My wrists trembled. Even gravity looked embarrassed for me.
"Okay… just bend the arms. Then push back up. Easy." I lowered myself an inch. My elbows buckled. My face slammed into the floor with the grace of a sack of potatoes.
[That was… inspirational. 0/50 completed.]
"I'm going to set you on fire one day," I growled into the floorboards.
[Excellent motivation. Try again.]
I took a deep breath and tried again. One push-up. One. It felt like lifting a boulder with chopsticks. My entire body shook like a leaf in a hurricane. I pushed, groaned, wobbled and then collapsed flat.
"That was one, right?" I panted.
[Technically, yes. 1/50 completed. Congratulations. Only 49 more existential crises to go.]
I cursed under my breath and continued. Two. Three. Each time felt worse than the last. By push-up eight, my arms were vibrating like I was being electrocuted by shame. By push-up thirteen, I saw colors that didn't exist in nature. Somewhere around twenty, I forgot what joy felt like.
I dropped flat again, gasping like a fish on land. My arms lay limp beside me like overcooked pasta. "How… how do people do this every day?"
[They eat food and aren't malnourished by choice of family. You, however, are unique.]
"Gee, thanks."
By the time I hit thirty-five, I was making strange noises somewhere between a grunt and a dying goat scream. My shirt stuck to me with sweat. My vision blurred. My legs had given up all pretense of helping. I was running on pure rage and salt.
"Forty…" I wheezed, collapsing again. "Tell my story… make it dramatic…"
[Noted. I'll title your obituary: 'She Tried. Briefly.']
"Forty-one…"
[Inspirational.]
"Forty-two… I hate you…"
[The feeling is mutual. Keep going.]
When I hit forty-nine, I paused. My body felt like a bag of broken bones. My muscles, previously decorative, were now active participants in a mutiny. I stared at the floor, whispering, "One more. One more, and I get to burn people."
And with a scream that startled every dust mote in the room, I pushed.
"FIFTY!"
I collapsed, arms spread like I'd just won a battle which, to be fair, I had. Against my own body.
[Quest Complete!]
A cheerful jingle echoed in my brain. I didn't know if I was hallucinating or just emotionally broken.
[+2 Strength awarded. Current Strength: 3.][New Skill Unlocked: Fire Magic – Level 1]
I blinked. Something tingled in my chest like static, but warm. A faint ember sparked behind my ribs. I sat up, swaying slightly, as a strange sensation spread through my limbs. Not painful. Not heavy. Just… new.
I lifted my hand, and the tingling intensified. My fingers prickled with heat, like I'd touched sun-warmed stone. A golden flicker danced in my palm before fading.
Then, a final notification:
[Congratulations, Host. You have awakened Fire Magic – Level 1.]
I gasped. "Wait… is this real? I can actually… cast magic? Me?"
[Yes. Please resist the urge to incinerate everything you love. Or in your case, everything you hate.]
I jumped to my feet well, wobbled and held my hand out again, trying to summon the spark. "Let me try, just once! Please!"
[Denied.]
I blinked. "What?"
[Reminder: You currently live in a broom closet. Lighting a fire here would result in your untimely second death, followed by probable eviction. And then your family would laugh. Again.]
I groaned. "But just a little flame"
[No.]
I dropped my hand with a pout. "Fine. Ruin my fun. What's the point of magic if I can't even use it to dramatically burn things while laughing maniacally?"
[The point is that you don't end up roasted like yesterday's soup bones. Now, would you like to see your updated stats, or continue whining?]
"Stats, please," I muttered.
The screen shimmered and shifted:
[Host: Arielle]
Level: 1
EXP: 0 / 100
HP (Health): 30 / 30
MP (Magic Power): 20 / 20
Strength: 3
Agility: 2
Intelligence: 4
Willpower: 6
Magic Affinity: Fire – Level 1
Status: Malnourished, Sleep-Deprived, Petty
I squinted. "You really put petty as my status?"
[Accuracy is important.]
I gave the screen the finger. The screen, unfortunately, remained unfazed.
Still, I couldn't help but feel… proud. I was level one. Weak. Tired. Still stuck in a glorified shoebox. But for the first time in my life, I had magic. Fire, no less. The most dramatic of all elements. The kind of power you use when you want people to remember the screaming.
I flopped back onto the bed, arms still twitching from the trauma of exercise, and stared at the ceiling.
"I'm going to kill them one day," I whispered to the cracked boards above me. "My parents. My brother. Every smug face that ever laughed when I starved."
[Excellent goal. Let's start with being able to walk up stairs without crying.]
I groaned. "One day, System. One day, I'm going to make you cry, too."
[I look forward to it.]
I closed my eyes, letting the warmth of my new power hum quietly in my chest. The world was cruel. My body was a disaster. My family were flaming piles of human garbage. But I was alive. I had a system. And I could feel the tiniest spark of change in my bones.
Fifty push-ups might not seem like much.
But for me, it was the start of something burning.