The Memories He Couldn't Lose
Memory Fragment #20
The hum of his PC, the familiar login screen of Genshin Impact loading before him. His secret base—a small, cluttered apartment where the outside world didn't exist. Just him, the game, and the characters who felt more real than anything else.
Memory Fragment #35
*Lumine's smile as she stood on the cliffs of Starsnatch Cliff, the golden sunset painting her in warmth. The way his chest tightened when she spoke, as if she were speaking only to him. He had spent hours just listening to her voice, her stories, her quiet strength.*
Memory Fragment #60
*The thrill of pulling a 5-star character—the rush of dopamine as the golden light spilled across the screen. The way he'd cheer, punching the air like an idiot, before immediately diving into building them, learning their playstyle, falling in love with their animations, their lore.*
Memory Fragment #99
*The community. The fan art, the theories, the late-night discussions with strangers who loved this world as much as he did. For the first time in years, he hadn't felt alone.*
---
Orion exhaled shakily.
Of course. *Of course* these were the memories that remained.
Not the blood, not the guilt—but this. The one thing that had kept him sane.
*"I'll take the new path,"* he said, voice steadier now.
[*"Acknowledged. Memory restructuring initiated."*]
A sharp pressure flared behind his eyes—then, white.
---
When his vision cleared, the system's voice returned.
[*"Notification: Congratulations. You have obtained the skill [Predator]."*]
Orion blinked. *"Predator?"*
[*"Skill Description: [Predator] allows the user to copy any skill or ability upon defeating its original holder. Victory in battle is the sole requirement. However, excessive use may lead to mental corrosion. Proceed with caution."*]
A skill that demanded conquest. A power that thrived on victory.
Orion's lips curled into a faint smirk.
*"So if I win… I can take anything?"*
[*"Affirmative. But the more you take, the more you risk losing yourself."*]
His gaze drifted toward the distant city of Mondstadt, its windmills turning lazily against the horizon.
He had his memories—the ones that mattered.
He had his instincts—the reflexes of a survivor.
And now, he had a way to claim the power he needed.
But this wasn't a game anymore.
This was real.
And he would have to decide—how much of himself was he willing to sacrifice to survive?
A Blessing from the Heavenly Principles
The wind stilled.
["Notification: Congratulations. You have received a blessing from the Heavenly Principles."]
Orion froze.
"The Heavenly Principles?" His voice was sharp, wary. "Why?"
["I'm sorry. I cannot answer that question."]
A cold weight settled in his chest. That wasn't just evasion—it was a warning. Something about this was wrong. But pressing further felt dangerous, like prying open a door never meant to be opened.
Swallowing his unease, he forced the question out. "What blessing?"
["A reliable companion."]
A companion? His mind flickered to an image—a floating, azure glow, a voice like liquid wisdom. Rimuru's… Great Sage?
"…Who the hell was Rimuru? "
The memory slipped away before he could grasp it, leaving only a vague sense of familiarity.
["Will you give your companion a name?"]
A name. He didn't hesitate.
"Zedrinc Zero."
The moment the words left his lips, something clicked—like a key turning in a lock he hadn't known existed. The name carried weight, meaning, though he couldn't remember why.
["Acknowledged. Designation: Name Code Zero."]
Silence.
Then—
"Initializing."
A voice. Distant, yet clear. Not in his mind, but outside it.
From the shadows of the great oak, a figure emerged—no, not a figure. A presence. A silhouette of shifting code and starlight, formless yet unmistakably alive.
"Directive acknowledged," it—no, she—spoke, voice smooth, synthetic, yet humming with something almost human.
"Designation confirmed. Zedrinc Zero, at your service."
Orion's breath caught.
This wasn't just a companion.
This was something more.
And as the wind picked up again, whispering through the leaves, one truth became undeniable:
The Heavenly Principles didn't give gifts without reason.
Whatever this was—whoever Zero was—
It was no accident.