# Chapter 1: The Last Tear
In a dim, musty room, silence clung to the air like thick fog. The walls, cracked and weather-worn, had long forgotten warmth. In the far corner, huddled in shadow, a boy sat motionless. Blood-stained cuts laced his fragile arms, and dried crimson streaks painted his shirt and the floor beneath him. The blood had stopped flowing, but the pain hadn't. His eyes, once bright, now stared blankly into the dark. Silent tears clung to his lashes, but he didn't let them fall.
His body trembled—not from fear, but from exhaustion. Every movement sent sparks of agony coursing through his bones. His legs lay stretched before him unnaturally; one was clearly broken. It bent at an angle no human limb should.
Suddenly, the heavy wooden door creaked open. A sliver of pale yellow light spilled in. The boy flinched.
Footsteps.
A middle-aged woman entered with hurried steps. Her expression was stern, etched with urgency, but something in her movements hinted at desperation. She fumbled along the wall, found the switch, and flicked it on.
The flickering light bathed the room in pale gold.
Her eyes landed on him.
Her world shattered.
"Aarav...?" she whispered, her voice cracking.
The boy—Aarav—looked up slowly. When their eyes met, time seemed to freeze. He didn't want her to see him like this. Not broken. Not defeated. Not like this.
She gasped and stumbled forward, barely holding herself together. Tears welled in her eyes. The moment her gaze caught the injuries on his small body, one tear fell. Then another. And another. The dam broke.
"Who did this to you...?" her voice trembled as she crouched beside him.
Aarav tried to speak. He wanted to comfort her. To wipe away her tears. But when he tried to move, his body screamed in pain. His hands wouldn't lift. His legs refused to budge.
When she saw his struggle, she moved quickly, wrapping an arm around his waist to support him. But her other hand accidentally brushed against a deep wound. Aarav cried out.
She froze in horror.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, baby!" she cried, adjusting her grip to avoid the cuts. She lifted him gently, cradling his shaking form like a porcelain doll. She carried him across the room and laid him carefully on the bed. Her own tears soaked into his shirt as she whispered apologies, promises, and silent prayers.
As one teardrop fell from her cheek onto his, Aarav felt something shatter inside him.
He wasn't crying from the pain.
He was crying because he couldn't wipe her tears.
---
Minutes passed.
The silence in the room grew heavier, yet strangely comforting. After the tears, after the pain, came clarity. Aarav broke the silence.
"Why...? Why do they always bully me, Mom?" he whispered, his voice hollow.
His mother wiped her face and sat beside him, her hands clutching his.
"Why can't they just leave me alone...?"
Her eyes softened, but her voice turned cold. Real.
"Because, Aarav... we're weak."
Aarav's breath hitched.
"This world... it belongs to the strong," she continued. "The powerful make the rules. The rest... the rest of us have to survive in their shadows. We either stay quiet or fight back."
He stared at her.
"So what should I do...?"
She leaned in and kissed his forehead.
"You rest now. But once you're strong enough—never let them break you again. Become strong. So strong... that they regret ever laying a hand on you."
And with that, she stood up and left the room.
Leaving him alone.
But not broken.
---
## Flashback – Earlier That Day
The sun was beginning to set as Aarav walked home from the market. He clutched a small paper bag filled with groceries, sticking to a back alley shortcut to avoid attention. He had taken a different route, hoping—praying—not to run into anyone.
But fate had other plans.
Three figures stepped into his path.
He froze.
The tallest boy grinned. His short, jagged hair and cold eyes were instantly recognizable.
Raghu.
And behind him—Mihir and Vasu, both holding blunt bats, their faces twisted in cruel amusement.
Aarav's body trembled.
"Wh-why...?" he stammered. "Why are you always bullying me? I haven't done anything..."
Raghu chuckled. "Exactly. You haven't. You never fight back. That's why it's fun."
"We love it when you beg," Mihir added. "It's pathetic."
Before Aarav could run, Raghu slammed his fist into his stomach. He collapsed to the ground. The groceries spilled. The eggs cracked.
"Please... stop..." Aarav gasped.
But they didn't.
The three of them laughed and beat him relentlessly. Kicks. Bats. Fists. Words. Each blow was punctuated with laughter.
It didn't stop until they grew tired.
Bloodied and broken, Aarav lay still as they walked away.
---
## Present
He coughed, blood dribbling from his lips.
His chest burned. His lungs felt hollow.
He wanted to call for his mother, but no sound escaped. His mouth opened and closed uselessly. His voice was gone.
He stared at the ceiling.
Alone.
Again.
He felt his life slowly slipping away.
But not from fear.
From regret.
Not because of the beatings.
Not even because of the pain.
But because...
He couldn't keep the promise he made to his father.
"Take care of your mother, Aarav. She's strong, but she needs you. You're all she has now."
He had failed.
And now\... he was dying.
Tears welled again.
He saw flashes of his past—him and his mother laughing, eating ice cream, watching the stars, reading old comics.
She was his friend. His world.
How would she survive without him?
---
The darkness started closing in.
He felt cold. Numb.
But strangely...
Peaceful.
As the last breath left his lips, his mind whispered a single question:
"Why, God...? Why me...?"
And with a whisper of his mother's name...
"Mo...ther..."
The light vanished.
Silence.
Darkness.
---
## Unknown Realm
The silence was replaced with a low hum.
Aarav felt weightless.
He floated in an endless void.
Then—a voice.
"He has arrived."
Another voice, deeper. Cold.
"He died in despair. But the fire in his soul... it burns hotter than ever."
"Shall we give him... another chance?"
"No," said a third voice, ancient and commanding. "This vessel has served its role. We need a stronger soul now. Someone who can harness the darkness."
Then a silhouette appeared in the void—tall, cloaked in shadows, eyes glowing like molten gold.
"I accept," the new soul said. "Give me his body. I'll give you results."
Aarav's body began to dissolve into particles of light, and the new soul descended into it.
Power surged.
Sigils of bone, flame, and death swirled around him.
And with a single heartbeat...
A new conqueror was born.
---
**End of Chapter 1 – The Last Tear**
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📌 **Author Note:**
Thank you for reading Chapter 1 of *Reborn as the Undead Overlord*. This is a story of pain, rebirth, and power. Aarav's journey has ended—but his body has now been claimed by a new soul, one with dark ambition and ruthless will.
If this twist intrigued you—stick around. From Chapter 2 onward, everything changes. Expect a tale filled with systems, necromancy, brutal choices, and an unrelenting desire to rise above fate.
Would you like to see the new soul awaken in a world of monsters, ancient power, and undead armies?
Drop a comment, add to your collection, and give a power stone to support *Reborn as the Undead Overlord*.
This is only the beginning.
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