The Sovereign’s Retribution: Daily Login to Godhood

Chapter 01: The Bottom of the Abyss

The scent of bleach and death was the only thing Silas Vane could taste.

He lay in a cramped, dimly lit ward of St. Jude’s Public Hospital—the kind of place where the poor were sent to be forgotten. His legs were suspended in traction, both shattered in three places. His ribs felt like jagged glass stabbing into his lungs with every shallow breath.

"You’re lucky to be alive, Mr. Vane," a weary-looking doctor said, glancing at a tablet. "But 'alive' is a relative term. The spinal damage is severe. You might never walk again without assistance. And then there’s the matter of your outstanding balance..."

Silas stared at the cracked ceiling. Ten days ago, he was the lead architect for the Sterling Group, engaged to the woman of his dreams, Elena Vance. Today, he was a nameless cripple.

Julian Thorne—the heir to the Thorne conglomerate—hadn't just stolen Silas's blueprints; he had stolen Silas's life. When Silas tried to blow the whistle, Julian’s "security team" had cornered him in a dark alley, broken his limbs with steel pipes, and tossed him into the path of an oncoming truck.

Elena hadn't even called. Instead, she had appeared on the news the next morning, standing at Julian's side, claiming Silas had been embezzling funds to fuel a gambling addiction.

Traitors, Silas thought, his teeth grinding so hard they threatened to crack. I gave you everything. I worked twenty-hour shifts to buy that ring. And you used me like a stepping stone.

"I have no money," Silas croaked, his voice like sandpaper.

The doctor sighed, a flicker of pity crossing his face. "Then the administration will move you to the hospice wing by tomorrow. I'm sorry."

As the doctor left, a nurse lingered. She was young, perhaps in her mid-twenties, with sharp, intelligent eyes hidden behind thick glasses. Her name tag read Sarah Miller. She adjusted his IV drip with practiced grace.

"Don't give up," she whispered, her voice surprisingly firm. "The world is cruel, Silas, but it doesn't have to win."

She left him in the silence of the dying.

Silas closed his eyes, praying for the darkness to take him. But instead of darkness, a searing white light erupted behind his eyelids.

[Initialization Complete...] [System Synchronizing with Host Soul...] [Welcome, Silas Vane. The Sovereign Daily Login System is now active.]

Silas gasped, his eyes snapping open. A translucent, holographic screen floated in the air, glowing with a soft, neon-blue hue. It was sleek, looking more like a futuristic military interface than a video game.

[Current Status: Near Death / Crippled] [Would the Host like to perform the Daily Login?]

Is this... a hallucination? Silas wondered. A side effect of the trauma? But the text didn't fade. It pulsed with a strange, rhythmic energy that Silas could feel in his very bones.

Yes, he thought, his heart hammering against his bruised ribs. Login.

[Ding! Login Successful!] [Day 1 Reward: $100 Million USD (Untraceable) & 1x 'Lazarus' Marrow-Reconstruction Serum.]

Suddenly, Silas’s phone, cracked and sitting on the bedside table, buzzed. A notification flashed on the lock screen from an encrypted offshore account:

Balance: $100,000,000.00.

Silas's breath hitched. Before he could process the wealth, a small, silver vial appeared in his hand—cold, heavy, and real.

[Lazarus Serum: A pinnacle of bio-engineering. Will repair all bone and nerve damage within 120 seconds. Warning: The process is painful.]

Silas didn't hesitate. He uncapped the vial and downed the glowing liquid.

For a second, there was nothing. Then, his body exploded in white-hot agony. It felt as if a thousand needles were stitching his nerves back together, and a sledgehammer was reforging his bones. He bit his lip until it bled to keep from screaming.

Outside, the sun began to set over the skyline of Veridian City—a city owned by the Thornes.

Two minutes later, Silas sat up. The cast on his legs cracked as he swung them over the side of the bed. He stood up, the pain replaced by a cold, terrifying power.

He looked at his reflection in the window. His eyes, once dull with despair, now burned with a predatory light.

"Julian. Elena," he whispered, watching his own hand crush the metal bedrail like it was made of tin. "I'm coming for everything you own. And I’m starting with your souls."