Chapter 11: The Bridge That Doesn't Exist
The vertical pupil inside the sphere turned slowly. For an instant, Soren had the unsettling feeling that it was staring back at him.
Then the cold, mechanical voice resonated inside his mind once more.
[ SYSTEM ]
Singularity: Tier 3
Type: Companion
Name: Sskarn Devourer
Assimilation Requirement:
Optional. The user must choose one of the following sacrifices:
• Sacrifice 10 years of your life
• Accept being infected with a terminal illness
• Sacrifice a random happy memory of the user
Blessing: None
Curse: The curse can only be shown if the user assimilates the singularity
Secret: The secret can only be shown if the user assimilates the singularity
Description:
The description can only be shown if the user assimilates the singularity
▶ Assimilate? ◀
Soren pulled the singularity slightly away from his face. "What the hell…?"
Ten years of his life. Give up ten years of his life? He had no idea how long he was going to live in this world. Did the system want him to die young? Or worse… die sick?
The second option was even worse. Accept a terminal illness. Soren let out a small, dry laugh. "This is absurd…"
Then he read the third condition again. A random happy memory of the user. He frowned. "But I can't choose which one…?" That was what unsettled him the most.
In a world where he could be eaten by a giant spider or gutted by a vulture with human eyes… what real value did a memory have? His mind began to spin.
A happy memory…? He only had a vague notion of his previous life and the short time he'd been conscious in this body. And if he was honest… his past life wasn't full of happy memories. They had been years of bad decisions, disappointments, and dark paths. He could remember very few moments he would truly call happy.
But then another doubt arose. What exactly was a happy memory? A specific moment? A victory? An achievement? Or something worse…? A person?
Life as a thief, a con artist… the scum of humanity… there had been moments when he felt good. Moments when he felt free. When he managed to trick someone no one else could trick. When he stole what no one else could steal. But even in the middle of all that… all the disappointments. All the mistakes. In the end… at the very end… he had found something.
A family. A group of misfits who understood him. People who loved him. Who valued him. And he didn't want to lose them. Besides them… there was only one other person. His grandfather.
Soren clenched his teeth slightly. That third condition asked for a happy memory. And just by reading it, it was already forcing him to think of one. Was it a trap? Was the system pushing him toward something?
His gaze returned to the singularity.
But… he had to get stronger. He had to survive in this world, no matter what. Sira was only tier two and yet she was incredibly strong. She could protect Audrey. A tier-three companion could change everything. Maybe it could even keep them safe.
Besides… the name also intrigued him. Sskarn Devourer. Could it… eat its enemies?
Soren glanced briefly at the lightning singularity resting on the ground. That singularity asked for something impossible. Take a lightning strike and survive. Compared to that… losing a happy memory wouldn't be so terrible, would it?
His mind spun. And spun. And spun.
Soren closed his eyes. "To hell with nostalgia…" he murmured. "To hell with the past. In this world, memories don't stop fangs." He repeated it to himself as his arms trembled.
For some reason, deep in his being, he knew this condition was the hardest. More than the ten years of life. More than any physical trial. Here was the true price. This singularity gave him the chance to gain power. Power to survive. Power to protect. In a world full of monsters, the fear of the unknown could kill you even before the fangs themselves.
He took a deep breath. Part of him knew that what he was about to do was insane. But another part was completely sure. If he didn't sacrifice what was necessary, he wouldn't survive. Not in this world. Not him.
Soren clenched his teeth slightly. "After all…" he whispered. What had he really done with his previous life? He woke up in this world without even knowing if he had died in the other. Without knowing if he would ever see his family again. Or if that chapter of his life… was already over forever.
He brought the singularity close again. He held it in front of himself and observed it carefully, feeling the strange sensation that at any moment, he could consume it. He looked for the option. A happy memory. He thought about assimilating.
And then… a memory surfaced.
There was an orphanage. A small one. One of those places forgotten by everyone, in charge of taking in children with family problems too severe for anyone else to want to deal with them. The orphanage barely had enough resources to feed the children living inside. Even the access was strange. To enter the property, you had to cross an old wooden bridge, narrow and deteriorated, that passed over a stream. Under that bridge… lived a boy. A boy who already knew that part of the city too well.
Back then, there was no room for anyone else in the orphanage. So the bridge… was his shelter.
That afternoon was cold and rainy. The stream had risen from the storm, and the water pounded hard against the stones. Sleeping under the bridge had become impossible. The kid crawled out from there. He walked through the wet streets, searching for somewhere to take shelter. Some dry corner. Some place where the rain couldn't reach him.
In that city, everyone was ruthless in their own way. They didn't insult you. They didn't hit you. They ignored you. They walked past him as if he didn't exist. The kid had grown unaccustomed to human warmth. A kind word. A compliment. Even something as simple as someone reaching out a hand.
He kept walking. The streets slowly emptied as the rain pounded the rooftops and ran through the sewers. He was cold. His feet hurt. And his stomach had been empty for hours. In the end, without thinking too much, he returned to the bridge.
When he arrived, the rain was still falling hard. He stopped in front of the wooden bridge. The dim light from the orphanage filtered through the windows. He could see shadows moving inside. Children. Playing. Talking. Living. He stared for a few seconds. Then lowered his head. And started walking toward the stream again.
"Hey."
The voice was rough. Raspy. The kid stopped. He looked up. An old man was sitting on the edge of the bridge, leaning against the wooden railing. He wore a long, worn-out coat. Between his fingers, he held a lit cigarette. The smoke rose slowly, mixing with the rain. His face was marked by deep wrinkles. His eyes tired. And there was something in his presence… something heavy.
The old man looked him up and down. "You still sleeping down there?" The kid didn't answer. The man let out a small cloud of smoke. "Hmph." He tapped the bridge wood with the tip of his cigarette. "The river's high today." Silence. "You'll drown if you try to sleep there tonight."
The boy pressed his lips together. The old man sighed. "Tsk… stubborn kids." He stood up slowly. Then walked toward the orphanage door. He stopped. Looked over his shoulder. "Are you going to stand there or are you coming in?"
The boy frowned. "There's no room." The old man took another drag. "I didn't ask that." He exhaled the smoke. Then pushed the door open. "Come on. Before the brats eat all the soup."
The kid hesitated. But the smell hit him right then. Hot soup. Fresh bread. Warmth. The old man had already gone in. But he left the door open. Waiting. The boy took a step. Then another. And crossed the bridge.
After that moment, hundreds of memories began to surface. All linked to his adoptive grandfather. The old man had always been a walking mystery. His aura carried the weight of someone who had walked too close to the darkness… someone who had seen things most couldn't even imagine. But his actions pointed in another direction.
The grandfather helped those in need. He knew how hard the world was, and when he could, he did something to ease it. He never got too involved in other people's personal affairs. He said each person had to make their own decisions… and learn from them. Sometimes he taught. Sometimes he just let you trip. Because, according to him, some lessons could only be learned by falling.
He was a stubborn old man. Grumpy. And also surprisingly funny when he wanted to be.
The memories began to fall like rain. Soren could see things he had even forgotten. Every shared meal. Every conversation. Every gesture. Every time he got sick and the old man stayed by his side until he got better. Every time he tried to win over some girl and the old man gave him absurdly direct advice. A whole life. Entire decades. Everything passing before his eyes in a matter of seconds.
And then—
A cold, metallic voice cut through his mind.
[ SYSTEM ]
Assimilation complete.
In that instant… everything fell apart.
The campfire glowed faintly in front of him. Back in reality, without understanding why, his eyes began to water. Soren opened his eyes slowly. In front of him, Audrey was watching him. And the moment their eyes met… she knew. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Because she… had once gone through the same thing.
"Soren…" she whispered.
Soren turned his head toward her, confused. And then Audrey saw it. Tears ran down his face like small silent waterfalls. In his eyes there was an infinite sadness. A sadness so deep it seemed to absorb every other feeling. The young man's dark eyes were completely clouded.
Audrey didn't think. She hurried toward him. She had always been someone with a cold heart. But at that moment, she couldn't help it. When she reached him… she hugged him tightly.
Soren didn't understand what was happening. He only felt an enormous emptiness in his chest. As if something deeply important had been ripped away from him. Something he could no longer remember.
With a weak voice he asked: "Audrey… why are you hugging me?"
Audrey held him even tighter. And between whispers she answered: "Because you lost something… immensely valuable to you. Something that was part of who you were. And you lost it forever."