Chetan woke before sunrise, not because he had slept well, but because sometime during the night something heavy had crashed onto the street below. He had remained awake for several minutes afterward, listening to the distant sounds of barking, shouting, and breaking glass before exhaustion finally pulled him back into sleep. When he opened his eyes again, the room was still dark. For a moment, he simply stared at the ceiling and tried to remember what normal mornings had felt like. Then his gaze moved toward the crowbar resting beside the bed, and reality returned with uncomfortable clarity. There was no normal anymore. The city outside had become a place where a man could wake up with an ability that defied science, where ordinary animals could transform into monsters overnight, and where the person living next door might be more dangerous than anything crawling through the streets.
He got up, washed his face, and checked his injuries. The scratches from yesterday's fight were painful but superficial. After cleaning them, he prepared a simple breakfast from the supplies he had collected. While eating, he opened his phone and checked for a signal. There was still intermittent connectivity, though the internet was painfully slow. Several messages had arrived overnight from his mother. She was safe for the moment, but she had repeated that the neighborhood around their home had become dangerous. His younger cousin had apparently managed to reach them before the mobile network became unreliable, but nobody knew what would happen next. Chetan typed a short message telling them not to leave the house unless absolutely necessary and to keep water stored wherever possible. He wanted to tell them about his ability, but stopped himself. Even if they were family, there was no guarantee that knowledge would remain safe if the wrong person discovered it.
After breakfast, Chetan opened the notebook from the previous night and added another page beneath his list of Golden Touch rules. He had spent much of the night thinking about the ability and had come to an uncomfortable conclusion: he understood almost nothing about it. The interface had never explained where it came from, why he had awakened it, or what the quality ranks actually represented. He only knew that touching an object could sometimes make it better. That wasn't enough. If he wanted to survive for months rather than days, he needed to establish limits. He placed several ordinary objects on the table—an aluminum spoon, a plastic water bottle, a kitchen knife, a flashlight, a metal bowl, and a packet of batteries. He decided to test them systematically instead of randomly touching everything he owned.
The spoon was first.
[Quality Enhancement activated.]
The golden light appeared around his fingers.
[Enhancement successful.]
[Quality increased: F → E.]
The spoon looked almost identical afterward. Chetan held it beneath the light, turning it around several times before realizing that there was a subtle difference. The metal was smoother and more resistant to scratches. He bent it with his hands. It barely moved.
"Interesting."
He tried again.
[Quality Enhancement activated.]
[Enhancement successful.]
[Quality increased: E → D.]
The spoon became noticeably harder.
Chetan grinned and placed it beside the original spoon. The difference was small visually, but the upgraded one felt like it had been manufactured from a much stronger alloy.
He moved to the flashlight.
The result was different.
[Enhancement failed.]
He tried again.
Nothing.
Again.
[Enhancement failed.]
Chetan frowned but did not waste too many attempts. He had already learned that Golden Touch wasn't guaranteed to work. He picked up the kitchen knife instead.
[Enhancement successful.]
[F → E.]
He tried again.
[Enhancement successful.]
[E → D.]
The blade became sharper and more durable.
He attempted another enhancement.
Nothing.
Another.
Nothing.
After six additional attempts, he finally received a result.
[D → C.]
Chetan stared at the notification.
The increase wasn't enormous, but the knife had clearly changed. He tested it against a thick piece of cardboard. The blade passed through it effortlessly.
He sat down and considered the implications.
If every object could theoretically be pushed toward higher quality, then the value of his ability would increase exponentially with access to better materials. But there was another problem. He had no idea whether enhancement consumed anything from him. Yesterday he had used Golden Touch several times without feeling particularly tired, but perhaps there was a hidden limit.
He decided to test that too.
He placed a metal bowl on the table and began enhancing it repeatedly.
F to E.
E to D.
D to C.
Then the next attempt failed.
He tried again.
Nothing.
Again.
Nothing.
By the tenth attempt, he felt a faint pressure behind his eyes.
Chetan stopped.
He waited.
The sensation disappeared after a minute.
"So there is some kind of limit."
Perhaps it was physical exhaustion. Perhaps repeated use placed strain on his nervous system. Perhaps the ability itself had an energy requirement. He didn't know yet, but the discovery made him more cautious.
He wasn't going to spend his power carelessly.
A few hours later, Chetan left the apartment again.
This time he had a different objective.
He wanted to understand Pune.
The city had always been crowded, noisy, and chaotic, but now the silence made every familiar location seem foreign. He moved along smaller roads, keeping the crowbar concealed beneath a jacket. He had no desire to advertise that he was armed. Several apartment buildings had their gates locked, while others stood completely open. Some residents had placed furniture and metal objects against entrances, creating makeshift barricades.
At an intersection, Chetan stopped behind an abandoned bus.
Across the road, six people were gathered around a parked SUV.
They were not ordinary survivors.
The group appeared organized.
Two men carried modified metal weapons. Another had something resembling a homemade spear. A woman stood slightly behind them, holding both hands together while faint sparks occasionally flickered between her fingers.
An awakened group.
Chetan watched quietly.
One of the men was shouting at a shopkeeper.
"Give us everything you have."
The shopkeeper shook his head.
"There is nothing left."
The man slapped him.
Chetan's expression hardened.
He didn't intervene.
Not because he didn't care, but because he understood something important. Yesterday he had encountered frightened survivors. Today he was witnessing the beginning of something else.
Groups were forming.
And once groups formed, power would become organized.
The man struck the shopkeeper again.
The woman with the sparks suddenly spoke.
"Enough. We're wasting time."
She pointed toward another building.
"We'll search there."
The group moved away.
Chetan waited until they were gone before approaching the shopkeeper.
"Are you okay?"
The older man touched his cheek.
"I'm fine."
Chetan looked at the damaged shop.
"Do you have any food?"
The man laughed bitterly.
"Not anymore."
Chetan didn't ask further.
Instead, he handed him two packets of biscuits from his backpack.
The man stared at them.
"You should keep those."
"I have more."
It wasn't entirely true, but it was enough.
The shopkeeper accepted them with trembling hands.
"Thank you."
Chetan nodded and walked away.
He had no intention of becoming a hero.
But there were moments when helping someone cost him almost nothing.
Those moments were worth taking.
Further ahead, he found a pharmacy that had somehow avoided being completely looted. The front door was shattered, and several shelves had been overturned, but a storage room at the back remained locked.
Chetan forced the door open.
Inside were boxes of medical supplies.
Bandages.
Antiseptics.
Painkillers.
Antibiotics.
Surgical gloves.
Saline.
He packed as much as he could carry.
Then he saw something else.
A small refrigerator.
The electricity was still running.
Chetan immediately understood its importance. Some medications required controlled temperatures, and if the power grid failed, they would become useless.
He touched the refrigerator.
[Quality Enhancement activated.]
[Enhancement successful.]
[Quality increased: D → C.]
The machine hummed.
The display temperature stabilized.
Chetan looked at it thoughtfully.
If Golden Touch could improve machines, perhaps he could eventually maintain generators, water purification equipment, communication devices, vehicles, and other essential infrastructure.
The thought changed the way he viewed his ability.
It wasn't simply a combat advantage.
It was a foundation.
He left the pharmacy with his backpack heavier than before.
On the way back, he heard gunshots.
Three.
Then silence.
Chetan immediately ducked behind a concrete wall.
A minute later, two men ran around the corner.
One was carrying a handgun.
The other had blood covering his shirt.
Behind them came something huge.
It looked vaguely like a cow.
But it was almost twice the normal size, its horns longer and twisted, its hide covered with thick ridges of hardened tissue.
The animal charged.
The armed man fired.
The shots struck its shoulder.
The creature barely slowed.
It slammed into him.
The man disappeared beneath its weight.
The second survivor tried to run.
The animal turned.
Chetan watched from behind cover.
He could help.
But should he?
The answer came when the creature caught the fleeing man.
Chetan raised his crowbar.
He couldn't allow the monster to move toward the nearby residential buildings.
He stepped out.
The creature immediately noticed him.
Its eyes locked onto his.
Chetan's heartbeat accelerated.
"Come on."
The beast charged.
He waited.
At the last moment, he jumped aside.
The animal passed within inches of him and smashed into a concrete divider.
Chetan swung the crowbar into the side of its head.
The impact made the creature stagger.
It turned.
Chetan attacked again.
The animal's horn swept toward him.
He ducked.
The horn struck the wall.
Chetan brought the crowbar down.
Once.
Twice.
The creature roared.
He backed away.
It charged again.
This time Chetan didn't try to evade completely. He moved sideways and struck the animal's front leg.
The leg bent.
The creature collapsed.
Chetan rushed forward and struck the side of its skull repeatedly until it stopped moving.
He stood there breathing heavily.
Then the familiar notification appeared.
[Mutated organism defeated.]
[Mutation energy detected.]
[Adaptation potential: 1.4%]
Chetan frowned.
The number was higher than yesterday.
That couldn't be a coincidence.
He looked at the creature's body.
Something was happening to him, even if he couldn't understand it.
Maybe the mutation energy was accumulating.
Maybe it would eventually cause another awakening.
Or maybe it was dangerous.
He wasn't willing to find out yet.
He searched the bodies of the two men and found a handgun with five remaining rounds.
Chetan hesitated before picking it up.
He had never handled a firearm outside of occasional range experiences, but he understood its value immediately.
He checked the chamber carefully and secured it in his backpack.
The world was changing faster than he could adapt.
By the time he returned to his apartment, evening had arrived.
The electricity failed completely.
The lights went out.
Chetan stood in the darkness.
He waited.
Nothing happened.
He switched on his flashlight.
The beam illuminated the apartment.
For the first time, the possibility of permanent darkness felt real.
He opened his notebook again.
Under his previous observations, he wrote:
Power grid failure likely.
Organized survivor groups emerging.
Weapons becoming increasingly important.
Mutated animals becoming stronger.
Mutation energy may influence evolution.
He paused before adding one final sentence.
The longer this continues, the less human the world may become.
Chetan closed the notebook.
Outside, the city was almost completely dark.
Then, from somewhere far across Pune, a strange roar echoed through the night.
It was deeper than the cry of any animal Chetan had ever heard.
A second roar answered from another direction.
Then a third.
Chetan walked to the window.
Across the dark skyline, something moved between buildings.
Too large to be a dog.
Too fast to be a human.
He watched it disappear into the darkness.
For the first time since awakening his Golden Touch, Chetan understood something that frightened him more than the collapse of civilization.
The monsters weren't simply appearing.
They were evolving.
And if the creatures could become stronger with every passing day, then humanity would have to evolve just as quickly—or disappear.