Genesis Maker: The Indian Marvel (Rewrite)

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- Princeton, New Jersey, USA -

- August 12, 1935 -

After dinner, Aryan sat by the window, staring at the Princeton skyline. The distant glow of streetlamps cast long shadows, and the occasional honk of a car punctuated the otherwise quiet night. The day had been eventful—his awakening in this world, the system, his X-Gene awakening, the realization of its Omega-level potential, and now, the path ahead.

But there was one more thing he needed to address before the night ended.

Taking a deep breath, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

"System," he called out in his mind. "Tell me about Dungeon Creation."

A familiar chime echoed.

| Dungeon Creation allows the Host to generate a dimensional portal leading to an isolated combat environment. |

| Tier-2 Dungeon Creation Cost: 50 MP. |

Aryan's brows furrowed slightly. That was nearly all the Meta Points he had accumulated.

"Describe the dungeon," he instructed.

| Each dungeon exists in a parallel dimension and follows real-world physics unless otherwise specified. Enemies, terrain, and challenges will vary based on parameters. |

| Warning: The Dungeon is a real-world location. Death within its boundaries is permanent. |

Aryan's fingers tapped against the wooden desk, a steady rhythm matching his thoughts. So, this wasn't just some simulation or a game-like training ground—it was an actual parallel dimension. That meant rewards were real… but so were the risks.

"Is there a way to adjust difficulty?" he asked.

| The initial dungeon is set to match the Host's current power level. However, challenges within are dynamic. Victory depends on skill, strategy, and adaptation. |

He exhaled slowly, absorbing the information. His instincts told him that this was the first real test of his abilities. If he wanted to push himself beyond Tier-2, if he wanted to master Energy Absorption and Redistribution, this was the way.

But he wasn't reckless.

"I'll prepare first," Aryan muttered under his breath, pushing the thought of diving in immediately to the back of his mind. He needed to understand his power better, test its limits before stepping into a fight where a single mistake could be fatal.

After deciding that, Aryan now stood in the center of his dimly lit room, rolling his shoulders as he focused inward. His X-Gene had awakened, but raw power meant nothing without control. He needed to understand his limits before stepping into a life-or-death situation.

He Inhaled deeply, closing his eyes.

The energy was there, humming beneath his skin. It wasn't like prana, which he felt he could consciously cultivated through training and meditation. This was different—instinctive, reactive. It responded to external forces, waiting for a trigger.

"Let's start small," he muttered.

He extended a hand toward the lamp on his desk. Slowly, he reached out with his mind, trying to draw in the warmth of the light.

Nothing happened.

Frowning, he adjusted his focus, this time concentrating on the filament inside. He imagined the heat flowing into him, absorbing into his cells. A faint tingling sensation spread across his palm. Then, warmth—just a flicker, but unmistakable.

He exhaled. It worked.

Over the next hour, Aryan experimented. He tried absorbing different sources—holding a candle flame between his fingers, pressing his palm against the metal of a radiator, even letting an electric current from a stripped wire brush his skin (carefully).

Each time, the energy entered him, but not all of it stayed. Some dissipated harmlessly, while the rest settled within, like water filling a vessel.

The first limitation became clear—his body had a threshold or probably he lacked enough control. Perhaps, as he improved the proficiency of the respective skills as described in the system it will improve, but for now, absorbing too much too quickly made his muscles tense, his nerves burn. If he pushed beyond that point, it could turn dangerous.

The second was even more frustrating—redistribution wasn't automatic, one more glaring fact signifying his lack of sufficient energy control. He could absorb energy, but directing it outward was trickier. Heat was easy; excess warmth bled out naturally. But electricity? He couldn't force it out properly. It sparked at his fingertips, uncontrolled. If he wasn't careful, he could fry his own nerves.

"I need better control," Aryan murmured, flexing his fingers. The potential was massive, but unless he learned how to use it efficiently, it could end up being more of a liability than an advantage.

He took a deep breath, shaking out the tension in his limbs. That was enough testing for now.

It was time.

"System," he called out, straightening his posture. "Open the portal."

A soft chime rang in his mind.

| 50 MP will be deducted. Proceed? |

Without hesitation, he confirmed.

The moment the Meta Points were drained, a low hum filled the room. A swirl of golden light coalesced before him, expanding outward until it formed a shimmering doorway. Through its surface, he could see only darkness, a void waiting to be stepped into.

Aryan clenched his fists.

This was the first step into the unknown.

And he was ready.

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- Dungeon world -

Aryan took a deep breath and stepped forward. The moment he crossed the threshold, a wave of energy washed over him. His vision blurred for a split second before adjusting, and as he blinked, the scenery around him came into focus.

He stood in the middle of a dense forest. Towering trees stretched toward the sky, their thick canopies casting shifting patterns of light and shadow on the ground. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, carrying the scent of damp earth and wild vegetation. Somewhere in the distance, birds called out in unfamiliar tones.

It was beautiful—but Aryan didn't let himself get lost in the sight.

His senses sharpened as he scanned his surroundings. The system had warned him—this was a real place, and real places had dangers. Keeping his posture loose but ready, he moved forward, careful with each step. The ground was firm but uneven, roots and rocks hidden beneath the foliage.

Then, a noise—soft but distinct. Rustling from the bushes ahead.

Aryan stilled, muscles tensing. His enhanced perception picked up more details now—breathing, low chatter in an unfamiliar tongue, the distinct sound of metal scraping against leather. He didn't need to see them to know what was coming.

Then, they emerged.

Four small humanoid creatures, no taller than his waist, burst from the undergrowth. Their greenish skin was rough, their eyes beady and filled with malice. Each of them carried crude weapons—rusty daggers, chipped swords, and one even had a makeshift spear.

Goblins.

They didn't hesitate.

The first lunged, blade flashing. Aryan twisted his body, letting the attack pass within inches of his chest before stepping aside. Another swung at his legs—he jumped back, barely dodging the strike.

His Instincts kicked in. He didn't fight back immediately. Instead, he focused.

The next goblin attacked, aiming for his ribs. This time, he allowed a glancing blow to connect. The impact jolted through him, but instead of pain, he felt something else—an unfamiliar warmth spreading through his muscles. Another attack came—a dagger slashing toward his arm. He shifted just enough to take a minimal hit. More energy flowed in.

Kinetic energy.

Aryan smirked.

He dodged again, letting them come at him. Each time a blade connected, he absorbed more, his body acting as a conduit. His muscles buzzed with stored force, waiting to be unleashed.

Then, he struck.

He slammed his foot down, using the built-up energy to send a shockwave rippling outward. The air itself seemed to pulse as the concussive force exploded from him.

The goblins were sent flying.

Two of them crashed into nearby trees, dazed. Another hit the ground hard, struggling to get back up. The fourth barely managed to keep its balance.

Aryan didn't waste the opportunity.

In a fluid motion, he dashed forward, grabbing the fallen weapons from the goblins. A dagger in each hand, he moved with precise, practiced efficiency. He struck the first goblin through the throat before it could recover. The second one tried to scramble away—he twisted, throwing a dagger straight into its chest.

The last two had barely gotten back on their feet before Aryan was upon them. A quick sidestep, a swift downward stab, and another was down. The final goblin let out a shriek before he silenced it with a precise strike to the neck.

Silence settled over the forest once more.

Aryan exhaled, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. His heart pounded, but not with fear—with exhilaration. He had just tested his ability in real combat. It worked.

But he wasn't done.

For the next few hours, he roamed the forest, encountering more enemies—lone goblins, small hunting parties. Each time, he refined his technique. He experimented—absorbing kinetic force not just from attacks, but from his own movements, redirecting it into his strikes for added power. He tried channeling it into his legs, boosting his speed in short bursts.

By the time he finally decided to return, he had a far greater understanding of his power.

"System," he called out mentally. "Exit dungeon."

A soft chime echoed in his mind. The world around him blurred, the forest dissolving into streaks of golden light.

When his vision cleared, he was back in his room.

He exhaled, glancing at his hands. He had learned a lot tonight.

But this was just the beginning, he had much more to do, much more to learn.

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