Reborn as the Undead Overlord

The morning sunlight slipped quietly through the cracked windows, brushing faint golden warmth over the faded walls and peeling paint. The ceiling still bore the marks of time—hairline fractures like veins ran through it, threatening to fall in silence. But inside the room, all was still.

Aarav stirred beneath the fresh, clean blanket. His fingers twitched. Slowly, his eyes—once dull from exhaustion—opened, revealing deep blue irises that shimmered faintly in the sun's touch.

He blinked slowly, adjusting to the light.

The smell of warm soup lingered in the air.

He turned his head to the side and saw a simple bowl resting on the wooden stool. Steam rose lazily from the surface.

That's when he noticed the changes.

He was no longer drenched in dried blood. The ragged clothes from the previous day were gone. His wounds had been carefully cleaned, and his body wrapped in soft, clean fabric. The pain in his legs was still there—but dulled, managed.

He sat up slightly, confusion clouding his thoughts.

"System…" he whispered weakly, throat still raw.

[SYSTEM ONLINE]

"Yes, Host?"

"Who… who did all this? Who took care of me?"

"Your mother, Host. She tended to you all night."

Aarav froze. A strange silence bloomed in his chest.

"My… mother?" he echoed. "But… I don't have one."

A Life Without Love

Memories came crashing in—those of his former life. His real life. The life before he was reborn.

He had no parents. No family. He had grown up on the streets—stealing, fighting, surviving. His world was brutal, a place where love was weakness and survival was the only god. He had hardened over the years, turning into a man feared by criminals and hunted by law.

By thirty, he had no one. No friends. No love. Only scars and sin.

And then one night…

A lonely street. A quiet walk. A white t-shirt stained red after a car came crashing into him with no warning, no brakes.

His body was thrown like paper across the pavement.

And as he bled into the silence of the night, he had screamed—

"Please… someone… help me…!"

He called again.

And again.

But no one came.

His voice broke. His tears mixed with the blood. His hand reached out toward the sky, desperate, trembling.

"Anyone… please… I don't want to die…"

But the stars offered no mercy.

He died alone.

Forgotten.

Unloved.

A New Chance

Aarav trembled as the memories faded, but their pain remained.

This wasn't just a second chance.

This was a life stolen from death.

And now… now he had a mother.

A woman who had stayed up all night to care for him.

Who cleaned his wounds.

Who wrapped him in warmth.

Who made him soup.

He gripped the blanket tightly as his heart ached—so unfamiliar with kindness that it hurt more than the beatings he once endured.

The door creaked.

Soft footsteps approached.

The handle turned.

And she entered.

She looked tired—but when she saw him sitting up, her entire face lit up with warmth that only a mother could possess.

"You're awake," she whispered, rushing forward.

Before he could speak, she knelt beside him and cupped his cheeks, brushing back his hair like he was still a little boy.

She pressed her lips gently to his forehead. "My baby… How are you feeling?"

He wanted to answer, but his throat tightened. He looked into her eyes and saw no doubt. No suspicion. Only pure, unconditional love.

She thinks I'm her son.

He panicked for a moment. What if she finds out I'm not him? What if she sees through me?

His lips trembled. But then, her hand touched his gently, reassuringly.

"I… I'm fine," he said at last, his voice cracking.

A sigh of relief escaped her lips. She smiled again—this time even brighter.

"That's good. That's really good."

She helped him sit up and placed the warm bowl of soup in his hands.

He took it, still numb.

"Eat. You need strength," she said softly.

As he brought the bowl to his lips, a tear slipped down his cheek. Then another. The soup blurred. The warmth of the bowl in his hands couldn't compare to the warmth in his heart.

He tried to hold it in.

But he couldn't.

He sobbed.

Silently at first.

Then loudly.

Tears poured down like a dam had broken. His body trembled with each breath, each memory, each regret.

She said nothing. She only wiped his tears with the hem of her sleeve, gently stroking his hair.

"You're safe now," she whispered. "No one's going to hurt you."

A Promise Remembered

After several minutes, Aarav calmed. He looked at her—really looked—and remembered something else.

A memory shown to him by the system.

A warm room.

A bedtime story.

A boy lying in bed, his mother by his side.

"Mom, I'll protect you when I grow up!" the young voice echoed.

She had laughed and hugged him.

"Yes, my little warrior. Just like your father."

And now… that promise was his.

A promise he had no right to claim.

But he would honor it.

With everything he had.

"I don't know who I was before. But I know who I must become now."

He stared down at his trembling hands and muttered,

"I'll protect you, Mom. No matter what. Even if I have to raise the dead to do it."

Later That Morning

After finishing the soup, Aarav insisted on freshening up. His legs were weak, but they moved.

"Host, recovery rate accelerated thanks to previous ability used," the System reported.

He nodded.

Every step he took toward the washroom was a reminder—this was a body that wasn't his. But the soul inside it now burned with purpose.

When he returned, clean and dressed, his mother was waiting at the dining table with freshly prepared breakfast.

The smell of warm rotis and spicy vegetables filled the air. Aarav's stomach growled loudly, and to his embarrassment, she giggled.

"That's a good sign," she said.

They sat together.

They ate.

And for the first time in either of Aarav's lives, he felt… at home.

Leaving the House

When the meal ended, Aarav stood up and said softly, "I'm going out. Just for a walk. I'll be back soon."

She looked up at him, a faint trace of worry in her eyes.

"You just woke up…"

"I'll be careful," he promised.

She smiled and nodded.

"Alright. But come back before sunset."

"I will."

He walked to the door and paused, then looked back.

She stood in the kitchen, humming quietly, unaware of the storm raging inside him.

I couldn't protect the people I once knew. I won't make that mistake again.

The Graveyard

"System," Aarav said as he walked, "where can I find my first undead?"

"Graveyard located east, 3.2 kilometers. Shall I mark it?"

"Do it."

A glowing 3D map appeared before his eyes, marking the route. He followed it silently through narrow paths and dusty roads.

The world was quiet, peaceful. But Aarav felt the tension build with every step.

After nearly thirty minutes, the tall iron gates of the graveyard rose before him.

He stepped in.

The air turned colder. Still.

Yet… it felt right.

It's like this place recognizes me…

The First Summoning

"System," Aarav whispered. "Can you scan for the most suitable corpse?"

"Scanning… complete. One potential match found. Coordinates updated."

He followed the glowing marker until it led him to an unmarked grave. His heart beat louder with every step.

He dropped to his knees and began digging. Sweat ran down his brow. Dirt stained his hands. But he didn't stop.

Minutes passed.

Finally—his fingers struck wood.

He brushed away the soil and lifted the old coffin lid. It creaked, protesting. Inside, a body lay still. Pale. Hollow.

"System… are you ready?"

"Yes, Host. This is your moment."

He nodded.

His fingers trembled as he sliced his fingertip and let a drop of blood fall onto the corpse.

As soon as it touched the dead flesh, darkness bloomed. A black mist erupted from the body. The air grew colder. Electric.

The corpse shuddered.

Its skin began to peel away, melting into ash. Bones cracked and twisted.

Aarav took a step back, eyes wide. "System, what's happening?!"

"Do not fear, Host. This is normal. The soul has accepted your blood. The transformation begins."

Moments later, the process ended.

What remained was not a man.

But a skeleton, glowing faintly with necrotic energy.

It rose… and knelt before him.

Loyal.

Silent.

Awaiting orders.

Aarav's eyes shimmered with a mix of triumph and awe.

"I did it…"

"I really did it…"

He stood taller.

And smiled.

The sun had begun to dip by the time Aarav returned home.

As he stepped inside, his mother turned to greet him.

Her smile froze.

Because behind Aarav stood the skeleton—silent and imposing.

She dropped the spoon she was holding.

Her lips trembled.

"A-Aarav… what… is that?!"

He turned toward her, calm, but resolute.

He looked her in the eyes and said,

"A promise, Mother.

That no one will ever hurt us again."

End of Chapter 3 – A Promise to the Living

📌 Author's Note

This chapter marks Aarav's true turning point—from survivor to summoner. He's no longer just clinging to life. He's choosing his path, forging a purpose, and discover

ing what it means to protect someone you love.

But with every step into the dark, he risks losing his light.

What do you think of Aarav's first summon?

Should he keep his powers a secret from his mother?

Leave your thoughts, power stones, and collections if you're as excited as I am for what's to come! 🖤