Screaming tore through his tiny lungs. Air, sharp and cold, filled them for the first time. Bright lights assaulted his unopened eyes, even through the thin membrane of his eyelids. He felt a sudden, crushing weight lift, a sense of being squeezed, then released. He was out.
A warmth enveloped him. Gentle hands, a soft murmur of voices. He was no longer a part of something, but separate, distinct. A new person. William. The name resonated in his mind, clear as a bell.
“Ding!”
A crisp, ethereal sound resonated directly within his nascent consciousness. Not through his ears, but deep inside his mind. It cut through the hazy wonder of his birth.
Eyes still sealed, he perceived a transparent panel shimmer into existence. It hovered just beyond his blurred vision, yet perfectly clear in his mind's eye, a stream of glowing text scrolling rapidly.
**[Welcome, Host William. System Activated.]**
**[Initializing… Please wait…]**
**[Host is a Lou family heir. Unique destiny detected. Analyzing…]**
His infant brain, usually a blank slate, was suddenly a supercomputer. Information flooded him, a torrent of data he somehow processed effortlessly. The System. This was a cheat code. A true cheat code. He felt an inexplicable surge of understanding, as if ancient memories of stories, of struggles, of impossible odds, were now his own.
**[Analysis Complete.]**
**[Initial Points Granted: 100,000,000,000.]**
One hundred billion. The number flashed, impossibly vast, dazzling even in the confines of his mind. A laugh bubbled in his throat, a gurgle that came out as a soft cry. He was rich beyond measure, in some cosmic currency.
But the next words sent an icy spear through his core.
**[Warning: Your family, the Lou clan, is designated as a 'Sharpening Stone' for future 'Children of Destiny'.]**
Sharpening Stone. The words echoed, cold and stark. A vivid, terrifying vision exploded behind his closed eyelids, a nightmare painted in vibrant, horrifying detail. It wasn't just text anymore; it was an experience.
He saw his mother, her face etched with a radiant smile he hadn't yet truly seen, collapse. Her eyes, filled with an unimaginable love, faded to hollow despair. His father, strong and proud, knelt beside her, broken. A grand estate, opulent and secure, crumbled to dust, engulfed in flames.
Figures emerged from the chaos. Not villains, but heroes. Their faces, though unfamiliar, radiated righteous power, a fierce, unwavering light. They stood victorious, their weapons gleaming, their stances triumphant over what remained of his family's legacy. Over what remained of his family.
They stood over the ashes, purified by the 'struggle'. Their journey had been forged in the crucible of his family's destruction. Their strength honed by their demise. Sharpening Stone. The metaphor was brutally clear.
A tremor ran through his impossibly small frame. His breath hitched, a silent, guttural sound echoing only in his mind. This was not the joy of birth. This was dread, cold as the deepest reaches of space, seeping into his very essence. It settled there, a frozen core where happiness should have bloomed.
His innocent infant joy, fleeting and fragile, shattered. It evaporated under the crushing weight of prophecy. He was born into a predetermined tragedy. His family was meant to be fodder, a stepping stone for someone else's glory. A sacrifice.
No. A primal, guttural scream tore through his internal landscape. Not a sound, but a force. He would not allow it. He couldn't. This was *his* family. The warm hands holding him, the soft voices murmuring his name. These were *his* parents, his blood, his legacy. He would not let them become a tragic footnote.
His impossibly small heart hammered against his ribs. A fierce resolve ignited within him, burning away the infant's helplessness. He was small. He was new. But he was not powerless. Not anymore. The System was here. The 100 billion points were real.
He was the shield. He realized it with absolute clarity. His existence, his System, was a weapon, a defense against this unseen, insidious doom. He had to be. He *would* be. He would twist fate until it screamed.
**[Host's resolve detected. Activating preventative measures protocol.]**
**[System's primary objective: Protect the Host's designated family unit from becoming a 'Sharpening Stone'.]**
**[Secondary objective: Elevate the Host and family unit to absolute supremacy, ensuring no 'Children of Destiny' can threaten their existence.]**
Good. Perfect. This System understood. It was on his side. This was his cheat code, not just for personal gain, but for survival. For *their* survival. He would use every single one of those one hundred billion points, and more, to ensure his family stood tall, untouchable.
He felt a gentle sway, the soft rocking of his mother. Her scent, warm and comforting, filled his nostrils. Her voice, a melodic hum, vibrated through his tiny body. He still couldn't see her clearly, but he felt her love, pure and boundless. It was a potent fuel for his burning resolve.
“My little William,” her voice whispered, soft as a petal. “So tiny, so perfect.”
His father’s deep laugh rumbled nearby. “He’s got your eyes, darling. Even if they’re still closed.”
They were so innocent. So unaware of the sword hanging over their heads. This blissful ignorance fueled William's fear, but also solidified his purpose. He had to learn fast. Grow strong. Faster than any infant, stronger than any child. He needed to be ready for the Children of Destiny.
The System continued to scroll through data, providing information about his SSS-rank talents, cultivation paths, and the ability to summon powerful subordinates. Each piece of data was a brick in the fortress he would build around his family.
He would become a monster if he had to. A true villain in the eyes of these so-called heroes, if that's what it took to keep his family safe. Their happiness, their lives, were worth any price. Worth any cost. He would rewrite destiny itself.
The initial dread hadn't left him. It was a cold, constant companion now, residing deep in his infant mind. But alongside it, a fierce, protective warmth bloomed. He had a mission. A purpose.
---
The holographic projection, bright against the muted light of the delivery room, flickered. The vast expanse of information condensed, shrinking to a single, stark warning. A final, chilling pronouncement from the System, etched directly into his infant consciousness.
As the System's holographic projection flickered, a single, blood-red word solidified above his crib: 'SACRIFICE'.