[Shape The Multiverse] Ch 1: Unforgettable Day

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"I'm leaving—bye!" Amon called out, dashing through the house with a bright, carefree smile.

"Amon, slow down a bit," his father said gently, his tone carrying both affection and mild reproach.

Amon halted briefly and turned back with a playful sigh. "Dad, why did you name me Amon? Couldn't you have picked something more ordinary?"

His father chuckled softly, stepping closer to fix Amon's collar. "I had the right to name you when you were born. It's not like you could speak up and demand a common name, could you?"

Amon rolled his eyes, but his father continued, his expression growing thoughtful. "Amon means 'the hidden one.' I chose it because I wanted you to understand that some things are precious when kept hidden—your love, your wealth, your health. Not everything needs to be out in the open."

"When some people see others holding onto something special, they will focus on ruining it."

He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as if remembering something distant. Then, with a small smile, he added, "As for having a unique and uncommon name—do you remember that poem, Amon?"

Amon nodded, though his mind began to wander. "Here we go again," he thought, suppressing a smirk. "Good thing it's not one of those endless poems, or I'd be stuck here all day. Sigh... but he does have a way with words. Tsk."

'The difference is a gift,'
'The difference is life,'
'The difference is to thrive.'
'White or black, be who you are,'
'Not who they are!'
'Let your spirit rise, embrace your dreams,'
'Live free, child of Adam—this earth belongs to all.'

(*First Poem thread in info—discord)

"I've heard it a thousand times, Dad," Amon cut in, still smiling. Despite his playful tone, he secretly loved this poem—it was like a comforting melody he could never quite forget.

"Remember, Amon," his father began, his voice steady and warm, "be true to yourself, not who others want you to be. Every person is unique in this life—some follow the herd, and others are too afraid to stand apart."

He paused, placing a hand on Amon's shoulder. "And always remember: be fair, be just, and do good whenever you can."

Amon tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "And what good will that do for me?"

His father smiled knowingly, his gaze unwavering. "It's not about others, son. Be fair for yourself, just for your own heart. When you do good, don't expect anything in return. You do it because it's who you are."

"Alright, Dad, I get it." Yet deep down, Amon didn't fully believe in those ideals. It was a ritual he had grown accustomed to—nodding along without believing anything or his father would tell him a long looong story or poem about good deeds.

What Amon didn't realize was that his father's words—dismissed now—would later become a cornerstone of his identity. Each phrase, each repeated lesson, would guide his choices, forging him into the man who would one day shape the multiverse.

His father's tone grew serious. "Take care, son. And if things ever get dangerous... promise me you'll keep yourself safe."

Amon laughed, brushing it off. "Dad, most of them have already left. I'm sure they'll leave our land soon enough."

"Just remember to stay safe," his father insisted, his voice firm but laced with affection.

"Sure, sure," Amon replied with a grin, slipping out of his father's grasp. "Alright, Dad, I'm off!"

And with that, he stepped out of the house, his carefree smile lingering on his face. But behind that smile was a boy walking away from more than just home—he was heading toward a destiny far greater than he could ever imagine.

---

"I think that's it... sigh," Amon muttered, staring at the college building. Today marked the last day he would ever set foot here.

His eyes wandered up to the bold words etched above the entrance: Faculty of Engineering - Electrical Department ⚡. A satisfied smile crept onto his face. "Finally, I don't have to come to this damn place again."

"Why did I even choose this in the first place?" he muttered, savoring the thought of leaving it behind forever. Walking away felt like the happiest moment of his life. "I'll never have to see those words again."

With a chuckle, he raised a hand in a mock salute. "I swear."

He meant it. But one day, Amon would long to return to this life, realizing that even seeing those words—words he now despised—would become a distant, unreachable wish.

A fleeting memory surfaced: his father's advice about doing good deeds.

"If I really wanted to do a good deed for future generations, I'd burn this place down," he joked under his breath, a smirk tugging at his lips.

(A/N: Not a joke. It's my wish. If it happens, expect new chapters raining down like a storm. SOS)

After ensuring everything was wrapped up, Amon cast one last glance at the building, silently vowing he'd never see it again.

As he made his way to meet his friends, a sudden mechanical voice echoed in his mind:

[Ding! … MAX LEVEL SYSTEM has been connected.]

"What the?!" Amon froze mid-step. "Did reading all those novels finally fry my brain?"

"A system? Seriously? My life just went from zero to cliché faster than I could say 'plot twist.'"

"It seems I need to rest."

He rubbed his temples, muttering to himself. "Could it be black magic? Or maybe the devil is here to harm me for being too good and humble to walk among regular humans. It seems that professor was right."

(A/N: This is a reference to a subject I had in college called 'Project Management.' During the first lecture, the professor titled it 'How Engineers Deal with Regular Humans?'. We even recorded this title and spread it until it became famous across the entire country. It was hilarious... but we totally failed his subject😅)

The voice interrupted his musings.
[The system can level up anything for the Host by consuming…]

"Lifespan? Souls? Sacrificing others, maybe?" Amon quipped, grinning knowingly.

[No, Host. By consuming points earned through learning, reading, or creating.]

"Good for you," Amon shrugged, brushing it off like it was nothing. For now, he decided it wasn't worth worrying about and kept walking. "I just need some rest."

But as he approached his house, a strange scene stopped him in his tracks. A crowd had gathered by the door, their faces solemn, whispers passing between them like ripples in a pond.

A chill ran down Amon's spine. His heart skipped a beat as an all-too-familiar dread crept in.

He knew this scene. He knew it all too well.

---

"Amon... We are... sorry."

Amon barely heard the words, his mind numb as he pushed through the crowd, shoving past anyone in his way. He sprinted into the house, his heart pounding with dread.

Bursting into his father's room, he gasped, "Why… why today, of all days? It should have been my happiest day..."

His voice cracked, and the weight of his sorrow collapsed onto him. "I... just... why... w-why?"

The sight of his father's lifeless body stopped him cold. His knees buckled, and tears began to fall, unstoppable. "It shouldn't end like this," he choked out. "I never got to tell you… how proud I am to be your son… how grateful I am for everything you did for me."

Amon knelt by the bedside, his voice trembling. "I never gave you the life I promised. I still wanted to hear your voice recite those poems again. I wanted you here… beside me. Why did you leave me, Dad?"

Grief consumed him, but something in the scene jarred him from his sorrow—blood. It stained his father's clothes, a grim detail that made his gut twist.

His tear-streaked face turned toward the people outside the room, his voice filled with fury and anguish. "How did my father die?"

A heavy silence hung over the room until someone finally spoke.

"The soldiers… they felt threatened... annoyed by a child who threw a small stone at them. One soldier almost fired at the boy, and your father stepped in to protect him, but…"

Amon's voice rose, trembling with rage. "Don't call them soldiers. They're terrorists!"

The reply came like a knife to his heart. "They killed your father… and the little boy."

"Would have done worse if they hadn't received some kind of order," another person added. "They left like they were running away."

Amon's mind spun, grief morphing into rage. "Monsters," he spat. "To do this to their own people. That's why… that's why we need to resist."

Grief, anger, and regret swirled inside him, choking him. His father's voice echoed in his mind—be fair, be just, do good whenever you can.

But what good were fairness and justice in a world like this? His education, his dreams—everything seemed hollow now. His father had been his only family, the only person he had left. His mother had died giving birth to him, and now…

Emptiness consumed him, leaving behind only anger.

---

Suddenly the air shattered with a deafening explosion.

Amon froze, fear gripping him. Planes thundered overhead, dropping bombs that sent shockwaves through the ground. He clenched his fists, his teeth grinding as he remembered someone's earlier words.

"An order to leave? Ha! This was their plan all along. Annihilation," he muttered bitterly.

Chaos erupted around him. People screamed for their loved ones.
"Dad, save me!"
"Someone, help! My daughter's still inside!"
"Please… anyone!"

Amon stood motionless, staring blankly at the destruction. Fear, despair, and hopelessness had drained him of emotion. He turned back to his father's body and sat beside it, brushing the man's cold hand.

"Dad… it seems the world knows only killing," he whispered, his voice hollow. "No good deeds. No fairness. Nothing like you taught me."

For a moment, he closed his eyes, leaning against the bed.

"If I had the power… I'd destroy it all," he murmured before stopping himself.

Looking at his father's peaceful face one last time, Amon's expression softened. "If I had the power, I'd change the world. I'd make it fair and just… the way you always wanted it to be, Father."

He smiled—a calm, serene smile that masked the storm inside him.

As the whistling of an incoming missile grew louder, Amon looked skyward, unflinching.

"Looks like we'll be seeing each other again soon, Father."

The explosion tore through the house, obliterating the walls and memories within.
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