The coffee was shit, but Sarnav Kish had long since stopped caring.
He stared at his monitor, watching lines of code blur together as his mind wandered to far more interesting places. Specifically, to the latest chapter of that cultivation novel he'd been reading. The protagonist had just broken through to some absurdly named realm and claimed another wife in a scene that was, let's say, extremely detailed.
If only real life worked like that, Sarnav thought, suppressing a smirk. System awakening, instant power-up, beautiful women throwing themselves at you.
"Sarnav, the printer's jammed again."
He sighed, minimizing the support ticket he'd been ignoring for the past twenty minutes. "Fourth floor or third?"
"Third. And Mr. Chen wants his presentation printed in five minutes."
"Of course he does."
Twenty-three years old, computer science degree from an international school, and here he was. Unjamming printers for middle management at his father's insistence that he "build character" or some bullshit like that. Never mind that his family could afford to let him coast. Vikram Kish believed in hard work, even if he himself spent more time at the office (or with his mistresses) than at home.
Sarnav stood, stretching his average 5'8" frame. His daily driver sat in the parking garage downstairs, a decent sedan his parents had gotten him for graduation. The family had a few cars: his father's luxury German sedan that the old man treated like a trophy, his mother's SUV that she rarely drove, and the family MPV for outings that never actually happened anymore.
Upper-middle class comfort. Gated community in Damansara. International school education. And somehow, he'd still ended up here, in this soul-crushing IT support job, fixing printers.
Should've been a protagonist in a webnovel instead, he mused, heading toward the elevator. At least they get harems and superpowers.
His phone buzzed. A notification from his reading app. New chapter update for one of the dozens of stories he followed. He'd read it later, maybe during lunch. Or more likely, he'd sneak-read it in the bathroom like the degenerate otaku he absolutely was.
The elevator doors opened on the third floor, revealing the usual chaos of the accounting department. Sarnav navigated through the cubicle maze with practiced ease, already mentally clocking out for the day even though it was only 10:47 AM.
Then the lights flickered.
Everyone paused. Sarnav frowned, looking up at the fluorescent fixtures that had dimmed for just a moment before returning to normal.
"Probably just the grid," someone muttered.
But Sarnav's phone was buzzing again. Not a notification this time. An emergency alert.
EMERGENCY BROADCAST: UNIDENTIFIED OBJECT DETECTED ON COLLISION COURSE WITH EARTH. ALL CITIZENS ADVISED TO SEEK IMMEDIATE SHELTER. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.
The office went silent as dozens of phones began chirping simultaneously.
"What the fuck?" someone said.
Sarnav's heart kicked into overdrive. He pulled up his news app with shaking hands. The headlines were already loading:
ASTEROID APPROACHING EARTH - IMPACT IMMINENTSCIENTISTS SAY COLLISION UNAVOIDABLE
MASSIVE OBJECT DETECTED 12 MINUTES AGO - TOO LATE TO PREVENT
"No way," Sarnav breathed. "No fucking way."
This is it. This is actually it. The apocalypse. Just like in every story I've ever read.
Part of him (the logical, educated part) was screaming that this couldn't be real. But the other part, the part that had consumed thousands of chapters of webnovels and light novels, recognized the setup immediately.
Day Zero. The world-changing event. The moment everything goes to shit and protagonists awaken their powers.
"Is this real?" A woman's voice, shrill with panic.
"It's on every news channel!"
"Oh my god, oh my god..."
The office erupted into chaos. People grabbing phones, some crying, others frozen in shock. Sarnav stood perfectly still, his mind racing through every cultivation novel, every system story, every isekai he'd ever read.
If this is real... if this is actually happening...
His phone rang. Mom.
"Sarnav!" Mythili's voice was tight with controlled panic. Her judge's voice, the one she used in court. "Where are you?"
"Office. Mom, what's..."
"Get to the basement. Now. The news is saying impact in less than ten minutes."
Ten minutes.
Fuck.
"Where are you?" Sarnav asked, already moving toward the emergency exit. Around him, his coworkers were doing the same, a stampede forming.
"Courthouse. I'm heading to the lower levels now. Your father... I can't reach him."
Of course not. Vikram was probably balls-deep in his secretary right now, phone on silent.
"Just get somewhere safe, Mom. I'll..."
The building shook.
Not the impact. Not yet. But something. A tremor, a precursor, something that made the entire structure groan and sway. Sarnav grabbed onto a cubicle wall, his phone nearly slipping from his hand.
"Sarnav!"
"I'm fine! Get to safety! I'll call you after!"
He didn't wait for her response. The emergency exit was packed, people shoving and screaming. Sarnav changed direction, heading for the main stairwell instead. Fewer people, and he was young enough, fit enough to take the stairs fast.
Basement. Underground. As deep as possible.
His legs pumped, taking the stairs two at a time. Other people had the same idea, but Sarnav was faster, his heart hammering against his ribs.
This is insane. This is actually insane. We're all going to die.
No. No, if this was really happening. If the world was really ending like in every fucking story he'd ever read, then survivors would awaken powers. Systems would activate. The weak would die and the strong would rise.
I refuse to be weak.
He burst through the basement door, sprinting past the parking garage toward the reinforced storage area at the back. A few others had the same idea, huddling against concrete walls, some praying, others just sobbing.
Sarnav found a corner, pressed his back against cold concrete, and pulled out his phone with shaking hands.
One last check. One last look at the world before it ended.
The news feed was chaos. Live footage from around the globe. A massive object visible in the sky now, growing larger by the second. Scientists babbling about trajectory and impact zones. Religious figures calling it divine judgment.
Three minutes.
Sarnav's hands were shaking. He opened his messaging app, typed quickly:
To Mom: I love you. Stay safe.
He almost sent one to his father too. Almost.
Fuck it.
To Dad: Hope it was worth it.
Send.
The lights went out.
Emergency lighting kicked in immediately, bathing everything in eerie red. Someone screamed. Sarnav closed his eyes, his phone clutched against his chest.
If I survive this... if there's even a chance...
The building shook again. Harder this time. Dust rained from the ceiling. Someone was praying in rapid Malay, another in Mandarin. Sarnav heard English, Tamil, a dozen languages blending into a chorus of terror.
Just like a novel. Just like every apocalypse story. The world ends, and then...
The impact hit.
It wasn't sound. It was pressure. A wave of force that slammed through the building like the fist of an angry god. Sarnav felt his ears pop, his chest compress, every bone in his body vibrating with an inhuman frequency.
Then came the sound.
A roar that wasn't a roar. A crack that wasn't a crack. The noise of reality itself breaking.
Sarnav's eyes snapped open. The basement ceiling was cracking, concrete spiderwebbing outward from a central point. People were screaming, running, but there was nowhere to go.
This is it. This is how I die.
The ceiling gave way.
Sarnav threw himself sideways, barely avoiding a chunk of concrete the size of a car. It crashed down where he'd been standing, and the impact sent him sprawling. His head cracked against something hard (a support pillar maybe) and stars exploded across his vision.
No. Not yet. Not like this.
He tried to stand. Couldn't. His legs weren't responding. Something warm was running down his face. Blood, probably.
Come on. Come on! Every protagonist survives the initial disaster. That's how it works. That's the rule.
But this wasn't a novel. This was real. Real blood, real pain, real terror as the world came apart around him.
Sarnav's vision was dimming. He could hear more impacts, feel the building collapsing above. Any second now, tons of rubble would bury him alive.
I don't want to die. Please. Please, I don't want to die.
His consciousness was fading. The screams around him grew distant, muffled, like he was underwater.
If there's a god... if there's a system... if there's anything...
Please.
I want to live.
I want power.
I want...
[CRITICAL CONDITION DETECTED]
Sarnav's eyes snapped open.
There was text. Floating in his vision. Glowing blue letters that had no business existing in reality.
[ANALYZING HOST...]
[COMPATIBILITY: 100%]
[UNIQUE CIRCUMSTANCES DETECTED]
[AWAKENING PARAMETERS MET]
[SSS-RANK HARMONY CULTIVATION SYSTEM ACTIVATING]
Holy shit.
[SYSTEM ACTIVATION: 1%... 5%... 12%...]
The pain was still there. The blood, the broken bones, the collapsed lung. All of it still real, still killing him. But the blue screen didn't care. It just kept loading, percentage by percentage, as Sarnav's vision tunneled further into darkness.
Come on. Come on, you bastard. Load faster.
[SYSTEM ACTIVATION: 47%... 58%... 73%...]
Another impact, closer this time. The building was coming down. Sarnav could feel it in his bones, the way the structure was giving up, surrendering to gravity and catastrophe.
Faster. Please.
[SYSTEM ACTIVATION: 89%... 94%... 99%...]
The world went black.
And then:
[SYSTEM ACTIVATION: COMPLETE]
[WELCOME, HOST, TO THE HARMONY CULTIVATION SYSTEM]
[EMERGENCY PROTOCOL ENGAGED]
[INITIATING LIFE-SAVING MEASURES]
[HEALING CRITICAL INJURIES...]
Warmth flooded through Sarnav's body. Not the warmth of blood loss or shock, but something else. Something clean and pure and utterly foreign. He felt his broken ribs knitting back together, felt the crack in his skull sealing, felt his punctured lung reinflating with a gasp that hurt and healed in the same breath.
His eyes opened. Really opened, not the half-aware flutter from before. And the world came into sharp, painful focus.
He was alive.
Surrounded by rubble, buried under the corpse of a building, with the apocalypse still raging overhead.
But alive.
And in his vision, glowing with soft blue light, was a screen that shouldn't exist:
[HARMONY CULTIVATION SYSTEM - ACTIVE][HOST: SARNAV KISH][STATUS: AWAKENED][RANK: F][CONGRATULATIONS ON SURVIVING DAY ZERO]
Sarnav started laughing.
It was probably hysteria. Probably shock. Probably a dozen different traumas all hitting at once.
But he laughed anyway, because after twenty-three years of reading webnovels and light novels, fantasizing about systems and cultivation and power...
It was finally real.
Alright then, he thought, pushing debris off his chest with strength that felt somehow more than it should. Let's see what this thing can do.
The world had ended.
His world was just beginning.