Chapter 1 — The System of Seven Days
Rain pressed against the windows like an endless heartbeat.
Inside a small apartment in Quezon City, Father Nix Villamor leaned back in his worn swivel chair, the headset still hanging from his neck. The clock on the wall blinked 3:41 A.M. — the end of another graveyard shift.
"Thank you for calling," he whispered to no one as the call ended, eyes dry and hollow. The glow from the computer monitor carved shadows across his tired face. He was thirty-two, but his reflection looked forty — sleepless nights, caffeine meals, and endless promises that it'll get better soon.
In the next room, the soft hum of a small electric fan guarded his family's sleep.
Hazel, his wife, lay beside their five-year-old son, Kyler — the little boy's hand clutching a broken toy robot. They had fixed that toy together using tape and a prayer. Nix smiled weakly at the memory.
He wanted to give them the world.
But the world kept asking for more.
Bills, debts, rent, tuition — numbers that wouldn't stop growing. His phone buzzed beside him: Notice of Payment Due. He turned it facedown.
He reached for his mug, empty. Again.
Then — it happened.
A quiet chime echoed inside his head. Not through the speakers. Not from his phone. Inside.
> [System Initialization Complete.]
[Welcome, Nix Villamor.]
[You have been chosen as a "Creator." You may create one skill every 24 hours — no restrictions.]
[Warning: Upon activation, your existence will be erased after seven days. This process cannot be canceled or bypassed.]
Nix froze.
His heart thudded once, heavy, before settling into silence. The glow of the monitor flickered — as if reacting to something unseen.
He laughed softly, the sound broken and tired.
> "Seven days, huh? What kind of cruel joke is this?"
No response. Just the faint pulse of light behind his eyelids — like the system was waiting.
He stood up, stepping closer to the sleeping figures in the other room. Hazel's hair fell over her face, the dim lamp outlining her features. Little Kyler's breathing was soft, steady.
They looked peaceful.
Too peaceful for the storm he carried.
He sat beside them, brushing Kyler's hair aside.
> "Hey, bud… would you forgive me if I disappeared someday?"
Kyler stirred, mumbling something about ice cream in his sleep. Nix smiled sadly.
The system was still there — silent, patient, offering him a choice.
He could ignore it, pretend it never appeared. Go back to answering angry calls for another decade, drowning in debt, watching his family slowly fade beneath the weight of reality.
Or…
he could use it.
One week of power beyond comprehension — enough to erase debt, cure illness, reshape fate itself.
He looked at Hazel again — at the exhaustion beneath her calm smile, the quiet way she carried the family when he broke down.
Then at Kyler — the boy's tiny hands gripping a cracked toy, dreaming of a world his father couldn't afford to give.
Something inside Nix broke — or maybe woke.
> [Do you wish to activate the Creation System?]
[Confirm: Yes / No]
He whispered before he could stop himself.
> "Yes."
The world shifted.
The hum of the fan slowed, the air thickened — like time itself held its breath.
A faint light bloomed from his chest, invisible to all but him, and words formed in his vision.
> [Skill Creation Unlocked.]
[Time Remaining: 7 Days.]
[Create your first skill.]
He thought of the bills. The debts. The sleepless nights. The tiny hands that deserved better.
> "Skill name… Infinite Balance."
The moment he spoke, the system pulsed.
Energy coiled through his veins, not painful, but terrifyingly alive. He felt his phone vibrate — all debts marked "PAID," all accounts equalized, numbers realigning like fate rewriting itself.
> [Skill Created Successfully.]
[6 Days, 23 Hours, 59 Minutes Remaining.]
Nix sat still for a long time, staring at the small apartment that finally looked peaceful — as if the world had momentarily forgiven him.
He touched Hazel's hand. Warm. Real.
And for the first time in years, he felt… free.
But in the corner of his mind, the timer continued to tick.
Seven days — that's all he had.
And no power could save him from the price he'd chosen to pay.