Boom! Boom! Boom!
The solemn beating of ceremonial drums echoed throughout the city, their deep hum reverberating through the mountain mist. The sound stirred Avinash from his meditation. His eyes snapped open, sharp and cold, yet filled with a hint of nostalgic amusement.
"So, it's time..." he murmured inwardly.
He sat up swiftly, the thin blanket slipping from his body. That ancient rhythm only played once every five years—on the day of the Awakening Ceremony. The moment every youth awaited with trembling anticipation. But for Avinash, who had seen through the illusion of fate countless times before, it was merely another performance to act in.
He opened the window.
The rain had finally stopped.
A cool breeze brushed against his face, carrying with it the earthy scent of wet soil, moss, and wildflowers. The city still lay under the embrace of pre-dawn darkness, the sky painted in a deep, somber blue. No sunlight, no birdsong. Just silence and the ghostly echoes of drums calling destiny.
The city sprawled unevenly along the mountain's slope, and most homes, including his own, were built on raised wooden platforms—wooden stilts holding the first floor above the sloping earth. Avinash and his "good brother" Abhimanyu resided on the second floor, just like many others.
"Young Master Avinash, are you awake? Master and Mistress have asked for both of you to come to the living room," came the coarse voice of a servant from downstairs.
Avinash immediately recognized the voice—Rinku, the old house servant.
"I'm coming," he replied lazily, feigning a groggy tone. An act. Just like everything else.
Although wide awake and clear-headed, he couldn't afford to act abnormally. In a world where soul-seizing and possession were real, being too calm, too ready, could spark suspicion. Especially when his own father was a Foundation Realm cultivator. Avinash had learned the hard way—never give fate a reason to turn on you.
He washed up quickly at the basin, dressed neatly, and descended the stairs. In the living room, he saw a familiar rotund figure standing awkwardly by the doorway—Abhimanyu.
"You ready?" Avinash asked with a calm tone.
Abhimanyu nodded slightly, his head bowed. "Yes," he muttered.
He had clearly been awake for hours—his eyes rimmed with dark circles, his nervous energy nearly tangible. Avinash observed him silently. In his first life, he had never understood this brother's hidden thoughts. But now, after seven lives... he could see through him like a clear pond.
Son of a bitch... still playing the loyal brother role, Avinash thought coldly.
They entered the lower-floor living room where their parents were already waiting.
"We greet Father and Mother," the two said in unison, bowing respectfully, palms clasped together.
Their father, Anirudh, nodded with a rare smile. "Go now. Even though your mother and I have never cultivated beyond the initial stages, we hope you both awaken a talent that surpasses ours. But remember, even if you don't, we will always be proud of you."
Avinash smiled faintly, but his thoughts sneered in silence.
Proud? If I awaken better talent than your "precious son," will your hearts still hold the same words?
Leaving the house, the two brothers joined a growing stream of youths all heading toward the rear mountain path. Groups of twos and threes walked with excited chatter, climbing toward the Awakening Cave.
"Look, it's them—the brothers."
"The one in front is Avinash. You know, the one who started speaking at three months, and could write by nine."
"His face really does look like moonlight. No wonder people call him the moonborn."
Jealousy and admiration intertwined in those whispers.
Abhimanyu said nothing. He had long since grown used to this. Head low, he followed his brother silently, as if dragged forward by the weight of an invisible chain.
The first rays of dawn stretched across the horizon, casting golden light across the mountains. But in Abhimanyu's heart, there was only darkness.
His brother's figure walked just ahead, but to Abhimanyu, it felt like an unreachable summit. A suffocating mountain of shadow, pressing on his chest, stealing his breath.
Avinash, hearing the whispers behind him, sneered inwardly.
Jealousy... It always blooms in the hearts of mediocrity. No wonder Abhimanyu went mad when he learned he had no talent—and later stole my True Yang Bone in another life. Trash will always crave what they can't obtain.
They arrived at the Awakening Cave. Today, it was no longer damp and wild like the night before. The place had been cleaned and arranged. Five elders stood in solemn silence, their presence exuding the calm authority of minor city leaders.
"You've all arrived on time. Good," one of the elders, a white-bearded man from a neighboring village, spoke. "This is your life's turning point. I won't say more. Follow me."
He led them inside the great stone hall, down a spiraling staircase into an underground cavern. Gasps echoed as the youths beheld the glowing stalactites, casting shifting hues of rainbow light upon the cave walls.
In the center of the chamber sat the Awakening Stone, a large blue crystal embedded into a pedestal, glowing faintly with a natural, eerie luminescence.
"One by one, step forward as I call your name. Place your hand on the stone. It will judge your fate."
The first name was called. Tinku. A boy with a nervous expression stepped forward, placed his hand on the stone...
Nothing.
"Tinku. No talent for cultivation. You may leave," the elder said flatly.
Tears welled in the boy's eyes. He turned and fled, sobbing uncontrollably.
More names followed. Most were the same. No reaction. No talent.
Then one stone lit up—blue.
"Average talent," the elder said with a hint of joy. The child was set aside for further evaluation.
Unbeknownst to the elder, blue was the mark of trash in the grand cultivation world—those who could, at best, reach the peak of the Qi Realm after a lifetime of struggle.
Then came Avinash's turn.
He calmly walked to the stone, placed his hand on it. Instantly, it began to light up orange—but before anyone could see clearly, a wave of illusion formation altered the color.
Blue.
The System had hidden his real talent, suppressing the awakening light. The elder's eyes lit up.
"Average talent. Not bad, not bad!" he declared with joy.
Envious gazes fell upon Avinash.
Behind him, Abhimanyu bit his lips, rage and bitterness boiling in his chest. Even if it's average… he still awakened. Why him, not me!?
Then came Abhimanyu's turn.
He stepped forward. Placed his hand on the stone.
Silence.
The stone remained dark.
His heart shattered.
"You have no talent. Go," the elder said, tone noticeably softer than before—likely out of respect for their father, the city's mayor.
Abhimanyu ran, hollow and trembling.
The elder waved off Avinash and a few others. "You three, wait outside. I'll speak with your parents later."
Avinash nodded and left. But he didn't chase after the others immediately.
The System had already informed him that Anirudh, his father, had been keeping a close eye on both brothers. Avinash couldn't afford to act out of character.
He found Abhimanyu sitting near a hill, alone, eyes red and face pale.
Without speaking, Avinash sat beside him. Silence hung between them.
After a long pause, he finally said, "Even I only awakened average talent. So don't give up."
"But... at least you can cultivate..." Abhimanyu's voice cracked as tears welled again.
"Enough crying. I may have a way. But it's dangerous."
Abhimanyu's eyes lit up like embers finding flame.
"Really? What kind of method?"
"Come closer," Avinash said. Abhimanyu leaned in.
Avinash whispered a few words.
After hearing them, Abhimanyu's eyes filled with hope. "Truly?"
"Why would I joke about something like this?" Avinash said impatiently.
Abhimanyu smiled, his heart filled with guilt and gratitude. I've been wrong about you, brother... maybe you were always looking out for me.
"Let's go back. Mother and Father must be waiting," Abhimanyu said, standing up.
"You go. I'll come later," Avinash said calmly.
This time, Abhimanyu didn't protest. He ran back toward the city, filled with new hope.
Those who saw him whispered, surprised. "Isn't that the boy who couldn't cultivate? Why's he smiling like that?"
"Maybe he's gone mad from shock," someone muttered.
Even his parents were caught off guard. But when they asked, Abhimanyu only smiled and said, "I've realized I can still live a happy life even without cultivation."
They didn't believe it—but they didn't question further.
Meanwhile, Avinash sat alone beneath the sky.
Clouds drifted slowly above.
A cruel smile played on his lips.
My foolish little brother... so easy to manipulate, just like always.
[One sentence for it- Abhimanyu chakravyuh me fas gaya hai tu haha...]