Chapter 1
1387words
The air hung heavy with dust, brittle grass, and the complex scent of distant cornfields—a strange marriage of sweetness and decay.
This was a small town where time crawled half a beat slower than the outside world. For most residents, life's path was mapped out from birth: graduate from the local high school, earn a degree from community college, land a job at the factory, farm, or one of the handful of shops in town, get married, have kids, and eventually claim a plot at the edge of the cemetery overlooking endless golden wheat fields.
Twenty-year-old Ava Miller's life seemed to be sliding along this same well-worn track.
She'd just finished class at the community college and was pedaling her squeaky second-hand bicycle down Main Street.
Her appearance matched the town itself—ordinary, unremarkable, the kind of face that vanished instantly in a crowd. Skin dotted with freckles, a nose neither distinctive nor flawed, and hair the color of faded coffee grounds.
The bicycle squealed to a stop outside the town's only convenience store. She walked in, nodded to the half-asleep cashier with practiced familiarity, and grabbed the cheapest soda on the shelf. As she stepped back outside, a little girl—maybe four or five years old—shot past her like a runaway marble, giggling wildly with a bright red ball clutched in her tiny hands.
"Lily! Come back!" An anxious voice called from inside the store.
But it was already too late.
The red ball slipped from her grasp and bounced into the middle of the road. The girl darted after it without a second thought. At that same moment, a deep engine roar grew louder. A massive Ford F-150 came barreling around the bend, sunlight glinting blindingly off its chrome grille. The driver hadn't expected a child to dash into the street—the piercing shriek of brakes shattered the sleepy afternoon quiet.
Ava's mind went blank, her body moving before conscious thought.
She dropped her soda and lunged forward with everything she had, shoving the frozen child toward the sidewalk. The next instant, something massive slammed into her side. She felt herself lifted like a leaf in a storm, weightless for one surreal moment, before crashing back to earth.
Her vision spun wildly—fragments of blue sky, store signs, and horrified faces whirling past like a broken kaleidoscope.
Then the back of her head cracked against the asphalt with a sickening thud.
Darkness swallowed the world in an instant.
In her final moment of consciousness, she had just one thought: At least the girl is safe.
Ava floated back to consciousness through a fog of antiseptic smell and distant voices. She forced her eyes open to see a dingy yellow hospital ceiling. Her head throbbed like it might explode, her limbs leaden and aching.
"Ava? Honey, you're awake!" Her mother's voice, thick with tears and relief.
She turned to see her parents' puffy, red-rimmed eyes. Her father's weathered hand gripped hers tightly, his warmth anchoring her to reality.
"Doctor says it's just a mild concussion and some bruising. Thank God your bones are okay," her father said, his voice rough with barely contained emotion.
Ava tried to speak, but her throat felt like sandpaper. "The... little girl..."
"She's fine, not a scratch on her," her mother rushed to explain. "Her parents were just here—couldn't stop thanking you. Ava, you're a hero."
A hero? Ava attempted a smile, wincing as it pulled at her split lip. She'd only done what anyone would do.
Just then, a crystal-clear, emotionless female voice spoke directly into her mind.
[Detecting strong altruistic behavior, binding conditions met...]
[Binding in progress...10%...50%...100%...]
["Goddess Halo System" binding successful.]
Ava's pupils contracted sharply. She glanced around in panic, but her parents' expressions remained unchanged. They were alone in the room. Was she hallucinating? Some weird concussion symptom?
She shook her throbbing head, trying to clear the bizarre voice.
[Host: Ava Miller]
[Charm Value: 32 (Average)]
[Halo: None]
[Task: Beginner Task Released—Receive ten glances of attention from strangers.]
[Task Reward: Charm Value +5, Unlock "Basic Halo".]
The voice returned, perfectly logical yet utterly bizarre. Ava felt completely disoriented. This wasn't a hallucination—the voice seemed to run like software directly in her brain. Goddess Halo System? What kind of weird scam was this? Or had the accident actually damaged her brain?
She cautiously thought: "Who are you?"
The system remained silent.
She tried again: "What exactly are 'glances of attention'?"
Still nothing. Apparently this was a one-way communication system.
Ava decided to ignore the "ghost" in her head. Just concussion-induced delusions—they'd fade with rest. She closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep.
After a day of observation confirmed she was stable, Ava was discharged. She declined her parents' offer to drive her home, insisting she needed fresh air. She needed time alone to process everything—the accident, her survival, and that bizarre "system" still lurking in her mind.
Walking down Prairie View's familiar main street, she basked in perfect sunshine. Ava breathed deeply, feeling truly alive again.
But soon, she noticed something strange.
Mr. Green from the grocery was carrying out a case of beer when he spotted her. The box wobbled in his hands, and several bottles crashed to the ground. His jaw dropped as if he'd seen a ghost.
Confused, Ava offered a polite smile anyway.
As she continued down the street, two teenage skateboarders zoomed past, then suddenly skidded to a halt and whipped their heads around to stare. One nearly wiped out from the distraction.
Ava touched her face instinctively. Was something on it? Was her head bandage that noticeable?
The bizarre encounters continued. The sheriff directing traffic at the intersection froze mid-gesture as she crossed; an elderly woman on a bench pushed up her reading glasses to follow Ava's progress for half a block; even a napping dog by the sidewalk lifted its head and wagged its tail at her.
These weren't the casual glances of small-town familiarity—they were stares of amazement, curiosity, and intense interest. Ava felt utterly exposed, as if she'd been stripped naked and thrust under spotlights. Her skin prickled with discomfort. She quickened her pace, practically running toward home.
[Attention Mission Progress: 3/10...5/10...8/10...]
The mechanical voice returned, methodically counting upward.
Ava's heart raced. Could this possibly be connected to that so-called "system"?
She finally reached home, slammed the door shut, and leaned against it, panting heavily.
[Attention Task Progress: 10/10.]
[Novice Task Completed.]
[Reward Issued: Charm +5, "Basic Halo" activated.]
As the final message faded, an indescribable warmth surged through Ava's body, flowing from her core to her fingertips. The sensation lasted just seconds—so brief she might have imagined it.
She steadied herself against the wall and stumbled toward the bathroom. The house remained unchanged—wallpaper peeling at the corners, floorboards creaking in familiar spots. The normalcy calmed her racing heart slightly.
She gripped the sink and faced the mirror with its slightly rusted edges.
Her entire body went rigid.
The face in the mirror was hers—yet utterly transformed.
Her once-dull brown hair now gleamed with rich, vibrant highlights. The freckles had vanished, replaced by skin smooth as porcelain and flawless as fine china. Her eyes remained the same shape but now seemed deeper, clearer—like pools reflecting starlight, framed by impossibly long, curling lashes. Her features hadn't dramatically changed, yet every detail appeared refined, as if a master sculptor had made countless subtle improvements that, together, created breathtaking harmony.
This was no longer the forgettable Ava Miller who disappeared in crowds.
This was a beauty who commanded attention at first glance and inspired devotion at the second.
She reached out in disbelief, trembling fingers brushing her cheek. The warm, solid touch confirmed this wasn't a dream.
"Oh my God..."
Ava covered her mouth, a strangled gasp escaping between her fingers. She finally understood those stares on the street.
The accident had given her more than just a concussion and phantom voices.
It had completely transformed her appearance—and might transform the predictable life path she'd always seen stretching before her. The girl in the mirror stared back with wide eyes full of shock, confusion, and something else Ava herself hadn't yet recognized: a spark of terrified anticipation for what might come next.
