Lucas's eyes shot open.
His body jolted upright like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on him. He was lying on a dusty, stained mattress in a dimly lit room that smelled of sweat, Mold, and something far worse.
He groaned and sat up slowly, clutching his head. "What the hell was that?" he muttered, rubbing his temples.
Then he froze.
His hands… They were small. Frail. Dirty. He turned them over in disbelief. They didn't feel like his hands. He looked down at his legs, thin, childlike. His voice, when he muttered again, was higher, more fragile.
"This… this isn't my body."
The room around him looked like something out of a bad dream. The wallpaper was peeling. The lightbulb above him flickered erratically. Cracks spread across the ceiling like spiderwebs, and the air was thick with decay.
He stood up on wobbly legs and walked to the door.
Just as he reached for the handle, A golden light shot down from the ceiling and slammed into his chest.
"GH-AAAH!" Lucas screamed, falling to the floor. The light pierced through his skin and brain like fire, and memories, foreign, horrible memories, forced themselves into his mind.
He curled up on the dirty floor as another life crashed into his thoughts. A boy. A home without love. Days without food. Long nights alone in a dark room. A world that never cared whether he lived or died.
Then, blackness.
He fainted.
When he came to, his body was drenched in cold sweat. His breath came in short gasps, and his head throbbed like someone had cracked his skull open and poured another person inside.
He sat up, shaking.
His stomach groaned violently.
"Shit... I'm starving," he muttered. "Better find something to eat."
He stood and stumbled toward the hallway, still dizzy.
But just as he stepped out, a glowing blue screen materialized in the air before him.
"GAH—!" He flinched and stumbled backward, falling on his backside.
The screen pulsed softly, floating just above eye level.
[Soul Trial System]
Sin Progress: 1 / 30 Strength: 3 Agility: 2 Stamina: 3 Intelligence: 6 Insanity: 0.0%
[Quit Trial]
Lucas blinked in disbelief.
"What the heck is this?" He stood, squinting at the glowing text.
It's like some game interface. Figures... the goddess did say I'd be tested.
His stomach rumbled again, louder this time.
"Whatever this is, it can wait. I need food first."
He waved his hand at the screen, and it flickered before fading out.
He wandered into the hallway.
It was narrow and poorly lit. The floor creaked beneath his feet. Pictures hung crooked on the walls faded, water-stained, and cracked.
Then he saw him.
A man slouched on a stained couch, watching static on a broken TV.
Lucas's new memories immediately recognized him.
The father. Or more accurately, the man who shared a house with this boy and barely acknowledged his existence.
Lucas hesitated. His mouth was dry. His stomach felt like it was eating itself.
He stepped forward.
"Dad..." he said, his voice low and timid. "Please... I'm hungry."
No reaction.
The man didn't look up. Didn't blink. Didn't speak.
Lucas clenched his fists.
"I said I'm hungry, you stupid—!"
Before he could finish, the man turned and glared at him. Not with anger, just tired disgust.
"Shut up and go away."
That was it.
Lucas stood frozen. His throat felt tight. His breath hitched in his chest.
He turned and walked away.
There was no food in the kitchen. Nothing in the cabinets. The fridge hummed, but it was empty.
Lucas drank from the bathroom faucet and sat on the floor with his knees hugged to his chest.
"I have to survive this... I just have to survive long enough..."
But the days blurred.
At school, no one looked at him. No one said hello. Teachers ignored him. When he raised his hand, they looked past him. When he asked for help, they walked away.
He dropped his lunch tray once and burst into tears. Nobody stopped to ask why.
Not one person cared.
Days turned to weeks.
Lucas's strength began to fade.
He stopped trying to ask for help. He stopped looking people in the eye. He stopped hoping someone would talk to him.
He sat in class like a ghost, staring out the window like it was the only real thing in his world.
His "father" continued to ignore him. The man never cooked, never spoke, never cleaned; the house stank of old beer and dust.
One night, Lucas opened every cabinet in the kitchen and found a box of expired crackers.
He ate them all. They made him vomit. But it was still better than starving.
One day, he couldn't get up.
His limbs felt like iron. His stomach was so hollow it had collapsed into itself. His skin was pale and tight over his bones.
He crawled to the door and pushed it open.
Outside, the sky was grey. Rain began to fall.
Lucas dragged himself down the stairs, then out into the street. The pavement was cold. His feet were bare.
He took two steps and collapsed.
His cheek hit the concrete.
People passed by.
A woman in a business suit stepped around him. A man on the phone didn't even glance his way.
Lucas raised one trembling hand.
"Please... help..."
No one stopped.
The rain soaked into his clothes.
His vision blurred.
His heart slowed.
He closed his eyes.
"I wonder... would my real mother have saved me?"
Then, silence.