THE DESTINY REBOOT SYSTEM

Revenge

Eliot slept longer than usual. For the first time in years, he didn’t wake up to a leaking ceiling, a noisy neighbour, or the pain of poverty pressing against his chest. Instead, sunlight gently poured into the wide, clean bedroom of his new house. The sheets were warm, the air smelled fresh, and for once, he felt safe.

He rolled over lazily and blinked at the ceiling. "Good morning, system."

Click. A mechanical voice answered in his mind. 36 hours remaining to complete your first mission.

"Thanks, system," Eliot mumbled, dragging himself up and rubbing his eyes.

Just as he stood, his phone buzzed. Two missed calls. One from Marcus’s father.

He frowned. “What could he want now?”

Eliot called back. The line clicked, and a warm voice came through.

“Ah, Eliot, finally! We’ve been waiting for you,” Marcus’s father said. “The wedding ceremony is today, and your presence would be an honour.”

Eliot raised an eyebrow. “You sure you want me there?”

“Of course,” the man chuckled. “You're a special guest now. My wife and I look forward to seeing you.”

Eliot paused for a moment. “I’ll be there.”

He hung up and looked into his mirror. There was a glint in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Not long ago, he had been crushed, thrown to the ground, slapped, humiliated. Now… now he had power. He had purpose. And today, he had a plan.

He dressed in a sharp, custom-made navy suit. His watch was sleek, the kind only CEOs wore. The shoes? Italian leather. Eliot Reyes no longer looked like a man who had once been ignored. Today, he looked like he belonged at the top.

He stepped into his car—no longer a dusty taxi or a crowded bus, but his own sleek ride, the one that had shocked everyone at the auction. The engine hummed like a dream as he drove through the city streets, drawing glances from passersby.

When he reached Marcus’s family estate, the security guards looked unsure for a second, but when they saw the car and then him, they quickly stepped aside and opened the gate with respect.

Marcus’s dad and mom were standing outside the grand house, smiling warmly.

“Eliot!” his father said, shaking his hand firmly. “Glad you made it.”

“Welcome,” his mother added, her eyes scanning his expensive suit. “You look… impressive.”

“Thank you,” Eliot replied simply, walking in.

Inside, the guests were gathering. The hall was beautiful—decorated in gold and white, filled with flowers, music, and laughter. Eliot took a seat quietly in the front row, like he was told. A waiter brought him coffee.

He took a sip.

God, how he loved rich men’s coffee.

Bitter, smooth, and expensive. It tasted like victory.

Across the room, two familiar faces spotted him. Peter and Martha—Marcus’s closest friends—whispered among themselves.

“Why is he here?” Peter murmured. “Did someone mistake him for a cleaner?”

“Maybe he’s working as a bodyguard for some big boss,” Martha said, giggling.

They both laughed quietly, thinking Eliot couldn't hear. But Eliot didn’t flinch. He didn’t even glance at them. He just took another sip of coffee and smiled to himself.

He was not here for them. He was here for revenge.

The music changed. Everyone stood.

“Attention, attention,” the announcer called. “The bride and groom are coming in.”

Everyone clapped as Marcus and his bride entered. She was beautiful—elegant in her long white gown, holding Marcus’s arm with pride. He wore a smug grin, basking in the applause.

Eliot just watched silently. Calm.

They took their place in front of the officiant. Vows were exchanged. The bride’s eyes sparkled with emotion. The guests smiled and nodded. Even Marcus looked proud.

Then came the final moment.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Eliot smiled and whispered, “System?”

Yes, Eliot?

“Can you make a video play?”

Of course. But just one condition…

“What is it?”

Just don’t laugh too loud.

Eliot smirked. “Deal.”

Suddenly, the huge screen meant for wedding highlights flickered. The music faded. A video appeared. People gasped.

It showed Marcus—very clearly—at a nightclub. Drunk. Surrounded by women. Laughing, touching, kissing. Then smoking. Shouting wild things. The timestamp? Just three nights ago.

Gasps turned to murmurs. Shock spread like fire.

The bride’s eyes widened in horror. Her smile vanished. She dropped the bouquet. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

The guests were stunned. Some covered their mouths. Others looked away awkwardly. Phones were out. People were recording.

“What the hell is this?!” the bride’s father shouted, standing up.

“Marcus!” he turned angrily toward him. “What is this filth?!”

Marcus’s face turned pale. “Dad, I-I don’t know where this—”

“Don’t lie to me!” his own father barked. “Not in front of my most respected guest!”

He pointed at Eliot.

“You told me you were ready to be a man! This is what you do before your wedding?!”

Marcus stumbled, trying to speak, but the bride had already run off crying, her friends following behind her.

“Is this some kind of joke?” someone asked from the crowd.

“No wonder he looked nervous,” another muttered.

Then came the final blow.

“You’re a disgrace!” The bride’s father shouted. “I invited the wrong man to be my son-in-law.”

Chaos erupted. Voices rose, and people started leaving. The carefully decorated hall turned into a place of shame and whispers.

In the corner, Eliot sat quietly, sipping his coffee. Calm. Still. Satisfied.

He didn’t need to shout. He didn’t need to fight. He had already won.

The system buzzed gently in his mind. Video playback complete. Would you like to save a copy?

“No need,” Eliot whispered with a smirk. “I’ve already saved it… here.”

He tapped his chest.

Martha and Peter stared at him in disbelief.

“That’s not the same Eliot,” Martha whispered.

“Who is he really?” Peter added.

But Eliot stood up, dusted his coat, and began walking toward the door—slow, graceful, like a man who had just read the last page of a long, painful book.

Mission progress: 85% complete, the system said softly in his mind.

Eliot smiled.

“This is just the beginning.”