The vertical pupil inside the sphere slowly rotated.
For an instant, Soren had the unsettling feeling that it was staring back at him.
Then the cold, mechanical voice echoed once more inside his mind.
Singularity — Level 3
Type: Companion
Name: Devouring Kanima
Assimilation Requirement: Optional.
The user must choose one of the following sacrifices:
• Sacrifice 10 years of their life.
• Accept being infected with a terminal illness.
• Sacrifice a random happy memory of the user.
Blessing: None
Curse:
The curse can only be revealed if the user assimilates the singularity.
Secret:
The secret can only be revealed if the user assimilates the singularity.
Description:
The description can only be revealed if the user assimilates the singularity.
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 would 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 short, 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 even choose which one…?"
That was what unsettled him the most.
In a world where he could be eaten by a giant spider or torn apart by a vulture with human eyes, what real value did a memory have?
His mind began spinning uncontrollably.
A happy memory…?
He only had a vague notion of his previous life and the short time he had been conscious in this body.
And if he was honest… his past life hadn't been 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 appeared.
What exactly was a happy memory?
A specific moment?
A victory?
An achievement?
Or something worse…?
A person?
His life as a thief, a con artist… the scum of humanity… had its moments where he felt good.
Moments where he felt free.
When he managed to deceive someone no one else could deceive.
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 of it all…
He had found something.
A family.
A group of misfits who understood him.
People who cared about 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.
But that third condition…
It demanded a happy memory.
And just reading it was already forcing him to think of one.
Could it be a trap?
Was the system pushing him toward something?
His gaze returned to the singularity.
But…
He had to grow stronger.
He had to survive in this world, no matter what.
Sira was only Level 2 and she was already incredibly powerful.
She could protect Audrey.
A companion of at least Level 3 could change everything.
It might even keep them safe.
Besides…
The name intrigued him too.
Devouring Kanima.
Could it… devour his enemies?
Soren glanced briefly at the lightning singularity resting on the ground.
That singularity demanded something impossible.
Receive a lightning strike and survive.
Compared to that…
Would losing a happy memory really be so terrible?
His mind kept spinning.
And spinning.
And spinning.
Soren closed his eyes.
"To hell with nostalgia…" he muttered. "To hell with the past."
In this world, memories don't stop fangs.
He repeated it to himself while his arms trembled.
For some reason, deep in his being, he knew this condition was the hardest one.
Harder than ten years of life.
Harder than any physical trial.
This was where the real price was.
This singularity gave him the chance to obtain power.
Power to survive.
Power to protect.
Because in a world full of monsters… the fear of the unknown could kill you even before the fangs did.
He breathed deeply.
Part of him knew what he was about to do was madness.
But another part… was completely certain.
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 had awakened in this world without even knowing if he had died in the other one.
Without knowing if he would ever see his family again.
Or if that chapter of his life…
Had already ended forever.
He brought the singularity closer again.
He held it before him and observed it carefully, feeling the strange sensation that at any moment he might consume it.
He searched for the option.
A happy memory.
He thought of assimilation.
And then…
A memory surfaced.
There was an orphanage.
A small one.
One of those places forgotten by everyone, meant to receive children with family problems too severe for anyone else to deal with.
The orphanage barely had enough resources to feed the children living there.
Even the entrance was strange.
To reach the property, you had to cross an old wooden bridge, narrow and worn, that passed over a small stream.
Beneath that bridge… lived a boy.
A boy who already knew that part of the city far too well.
At that time there was no room left for anyone else in the orphanage.
So the bridge… was his refuge.
That afternoon was cold and rainy.
The level of the stream had risen because of the storm, and the water crashed violently against the rocks.
Sleeping under the bridge had become impossible.
The boy left.
He walked through the wet streets, searching for somewhere to take shelter.
Some dry corner.
Some place where the rain wouldn't reach him.
But in that city… everyone was ruthless in their own way.
They didn't insult you.
They didn't beat you.
They did something worse.
They ignored you.
They passed by as if you didn't exist.
The boy had long grown unused to human warmth.
To a kind word.
To a compliment.
Even to something as simple as someone extending a hand… even out of pity.
He kept walking.
The streets slowly emptied as the rain hammered the rooftops and rushed through the drains.
He was cold.
His feet hurt.
And his stomach… had been empty for hours.
In the end, without thinking too much about it, he returned to the bridge.
Not because he wanted to.
But because it was the only place he knew.
When he arrived, the rain was still falling heavily.
The boy stopped in front of the wooden bridge.
The faint light of 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 deep.
Rough.
The boy stopped.
He looked up.
An old man was sitting at the edge of the bridge, leaning against the wooden railing.
He wore a long, worn coat.
Between his fingers he held a lit cigarette.
The smoke rose slowly, mixing with the rain.
At first glance… he looked like the kind of man you would avoid in a dark alley.
His face was marked by deep wrinkles.
His eyes were tired.
And there was something about his presence…
Something heavy.
Something that made even adults hesitate before approaching.
The old man looked him up and down.
"You still sleeping down there?"
The boy didn't answer.
The man released a small cloud of smoke.
"Hmph."
He tapped the bridge's wood with the tip of the cigarette.
"The river's high today."
Silence.
Then he spoke again.
"You'll drown if you try to sleep there tonight."
The boy pressed his lips together.
It wasn't his business.
The old man sighed.
"Tsk… stubborn kids."
He slowly stood up.
His knees cracked.
Then he walked toward the orphanage door.
He stopped in front of it.
He looked back over his shoulder.
"You gonna stand there or are you coming in?"
The boy frowned.
"There's no space."
The old man took another drag from the cigarette.
"I didn't ask that."
He exhaled the smoke toward the gray sky.
Then he pushed the door open.
"Come on."
"Before those brats eat all the soup."
The boy hesitated.
But the smell arrived at that moment.
Hot soup.
Fresh bread.
And something else.
Warmth.
The old man had already gone inside.
But he left the door open.
Waiting.
The boy took one step.
Then another.
And crossed the bridge.
After that moment, hundreds of memories began to surface.
All tied to his adoptive grandfather.
The old man had always been a walking mystery.
His aura was that of someone who had walked far too close to darkness… someone who had seen things most people couldn't even imagine.
But his actions were the opposite.
The grandfather was generous.
He helped those in need.
He knew how harsh the world was, and when he could, he did something to ease it.
He never interfered too deeply in other people's personal matters.
He said every person had to make their own choices… and learn from them.
Sometimes he taught.
Sometimes he simply let you stumble.
Because according to him, some lessons could only be learned by falling.
He was a stubborn old man.
Gruff.
But also surprisingly funny when he wanted to be.
The memories began falling like rain.
Soren saw things he had even forgotten.
Every meal shared.
Every conversation.
Every gesture.
Every time he got sick and the old man stayed by his side until he recovered.
Every time he tried to court a girl and the old man gave him absurdly direct advice.
An entire life.
Whole decades.
All passing before his eyes in a matter of seconds.
And then—
A cold, metallic voice cut through his mind.
Assimilation complete.
In that instant…
Everything collapsed.
The campfire glowed faintly before him.
Back in reality, without understanding why, his eyes began to moisten.
Soren slowly opened them.
In front of him, Audrey was looking at him.
And the moment their gazes 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 were running down his face like small silent waterfalls.
In his eyes there was infinite sadness.
A sadness so deep it seemed to swallow every other feeling.
The young man's dark eyes were completely clouded.
Audrey didn't think.
She rushed toward him.
She had always been someone with a cold heart.
But in that moment she couldn't help it.
When she reached him… she wrapped her arms around him tightly.
Soren didn't understand what was happening.
He only felt a massive emptiness in his chest.
As if something deeply important had been torn 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 in a whisper she answered:
"Because you lost something… incredibly valuable to you."
"Something that was part of who you were."
"And you lost it forever."