THE DESTINY REBOOT SYSTEM

The First Mission

[ The System is Activating ]

[ 10% 30% 55% 80% 100% ]

[ The system has successfully activated]

[You will receive a mission after 17 hours]

Darkness swallowed the corners of Eliot’s room as he lay still, staring at the ceiling. The soft wheel of the ceiling fan was the only sound keeping him company. The screen had long vanished, but the words still glowed in his mind like neon tattoos.

You will receive your first mission in the next 17 hours.

The clock ticked. 11:14 PM.

He turned onto his side, pulling the blanket higher as if it could protect him from the storm unraveling in his mind. “Maybe I’m going crazy,” he whispered to himself.

The glowing blue screen. The words. The... system. It was too real, too vivid. But who would believe him? No one. Not even he did—not fully.

He took a shaky breath and let his eyes flutter shut.

Eliot Reyes had known trauma long before Lana broke his heart. It had started the day he lost his parents in that fire. He was only nine. Flames lit up the night like hell’s curtain rising, and in a matter of minutes, the only home he’d ever known was reduced to ash and black smoke. The silence that followed—the cold, permanent kind—had never really left him.

Sometimes, he wondered if his mind had fractured that day. Maybe the blue screen, the “system,” was just a symptom. A new kind of break. He’d read about such things: people who created alternate realities to survive the unbearable.

“Maybe I need help,” he muttered, brushing his hand over his face. “Someday… when I have money, I’ll go see a doctor.”

But not now. Right now, all he had was a ticking clock and a heart too heavy to rest.

He set his alarm, slid his cracked phone onto the nightstand, and turned to face the wall.

Even in the dark, he could see the bouquet falling. Hear Lana’s voice. See Marcus’s smirk. The sting of that slap. The laughter.

He clenched his fists and tried to shut it all out.

The blaring sound of the city came alive through the morning sunlight. Eliot jerked upright, groggy and confused. His eyes widened as they shot to the clock.

9:42 AM.

“What the—!?” he scrambled for his phone. The alarm hadn’t gone off.

Instead, he was met with 12 missed calls—all from his boss.

“No, no, no... This can’t be happening,” he muttered, tapping the most recent call and pressing the phone to his ear. It rang once. Twice. Then—

“Reyes,” the voice snapped on the other end. “Don’t even bother coming in.”

“Wait, please—sir, I can explain. My alarm didn’t—”

“You missed the morning shift and the lunch prep. We’re already short-staffed. You're fired.”

The line clicked off.

Eliot lowered the phone slowly, the dead tone still ringing in his ears. He sat there, hollow and stunned. Another piece of his already-cracked world crumbled.

He had nothing now. No job. No girlfriend. No family. Just... silence.

Then it happened again.

That soft chime.

The faint glow.

[SYSTEM UPGRADE COMPLETE.]

[Congratulations, User Eliot Reyes.]

[Current Funds Uploaded: $1,000,000]

[You have 72 hours to spend this amount. Failure to do so will result in termination.]

**[A debit card has been issued in your name. PIN: **]

[Card delivery: Complete.]

As if on cue, a black envelope slid itself through the crack of his door, landing on the floor with a crisp flutter. Eliot stared, frozen.

He crawled toward it, slowly, like approaching a bomb.

Inside: a sleek, matte black debit card. His name was etched in clean silver letters: Eliot Reyes. He flipped it over. The pin was printed on a small sticker. Everything about it screamed real.

His hands shook as he stared at it.

“Spend a million dollars in three days,” he whispered. “Or die?”

He laughed. Short. Bitter. “Of course. This isn’t madness at all.”

He needed proof.

He needed reality.

Ten minutes later, he was outside the nearest ATM booth, breathing heavily. The card was clenched in his fist, damp with sweat. His heart hammered in his chest as he stepped into the small cubicle.

Sliding in the card, he punched the pin.

The screen loaded.

Available Balance: $1,000,000.00

Eliot stumbled back. His breath caught in his throat.

“Jesus…”

His knees nearly gave out.

Then the worst voice possible slithered into his ears.

“Well, look what the stray dog dragged in.”

Eliot turned slowly.

Marthar Lana's friend stood by the glass door, holding Peter’s arm like it was her prize. Her lips curled into a cruel smile. Peter was wearing designer sunglasses, even though they were indoors.

“You really brought that card here to withdraw your life savings?” Peter sneered. “I told Marthar you’d come back to Lana crawling.”

Marthar gave a mocking pout. “Still in your cheap suits, Eliot? I hope you got a good discount this time.”

Eliot's jaw tightened. “Just leave me alone.”

“Or what?” Peter stepped forward. “You’ll cry again? Maybe punch someone like last time?”

People walking by had begun to pause, some whispering, some smirking. The words stung, but it was the look in Martha's eyes that dug deepest—like he was nothing more than garbage Lana had tossed away.

Eliot turned to leave.

Peter stuck out his foot and shoved him.

Eliot fell.

Hard.

He hit the ground in front of the ATM, palms scraping against the concrete. Laughter erupted around him. Someone even recorded it on their phone.

He lay there, breathing hard, his face pressed against the dirty floor. His pride lay crushed beneath boot soles and mocking laughter.

Then—

[SYSTEM ALERT INITIATED.]

A blue screen shimmered into view.

[No one else sees or hears me. Only you do.]

[User Eliot Reyes, humiliation level critical.]

[What would you like to do to punish the offender?]

Eliot blinked.

His eyes shifted to Peter, still chuckling.

His mind buzzed with rage.

“What... what do you mean?” Eliot whispered under his breath.

[Be specific. Your wish shall be executed.]

Eliot stared.

His lip trembled. His fists clenched. Images of fists, slaps, laughter, and crushed daisies flashed through his mind.

And then it came to him.

“Bees,” he whispered.

[Confirm: You wish for a swarm of bees to attack the offender? Y/N]

Eliot hesitated.

Then—Y.

For a moment, everything went still.

Then Peter flinched. Swatted the air.

“What the hell—?”

A faint buzzing sound filled the air. It grew louder. Stronger. Sharper.

A cloud—black and angry—descended from the sky, funneling toward him like a living nightmare. But only Eliot and Peter could see it.

People scattered. Marthar screamed. “Peter?!”

Eliot stood slowly, brushing dust from his pants. He watched, silent.

The laughter was gone now.

And Eliot Reyes smiled for the first time in a long while.