He looked back at the river, its dark surface a shimmering mirror of the moon. It wasn't just a river anymore. It was a wellspring of power, a lifeline in this brutal world. He had a fuel source, and for the first time since he had arrived, he felt a flicker of hope. He still had so many questions, but for now, he had the strength to find the answers. He stood up, his small form now radiating a quiet power.Chapter 7: The Silent System
The world became a hazy, disjointed tapestry of pain and fleeting consciousness. After the brief surge of power that had reshaped his body, Sion's fragile form began to shut down. His heart rate, once furiously high, now fluttered like a dying bird. The blood loss was a heavy, cold cloak on his skin. "Warning: System offline. Energy reserves depleted," Sweety's familiar voice echoed in his mind, but this time, it wasn't a constant presence. It was a faint, crackling broadcast, like a radio station losing its signal. "Curiosity Core entering standby mode... All functions suspended... Please replenish energy... Goodbye, Boss Sion." The voice faded into static, then silence. The intellectual hum that had been his new constant companion vanished, leaving a terrifying void. He was alone in this strange, brutal world, a six-year-old boy in a battered body with the mind of a 45-year-old professor and an empty magical core. The pain returned in a tidal wave, a cruel reminder of his fragile, mortal state. A primal thirst, a burning fire in his throat, took precedence over everything else. Water. He needed water. He pushed himself off the cold ground, his limbs trembling and protesting with every millimeter of movement. His muscles, which had no strength, felt like liquid. He stumbled and fell, his face hitting the damp earth. The mud mixed with the blood on his skin. He pushed himself up again, his vision swimming, his determination a raw, desperate thing. He could hear it now, a soft, gurgling sound in the distance—the sound of water. He crawled first, then staggered to his feet, a marionette with broken strings. Every breath was a struggle, every heartbeat a victory against death. He moved toward the sound, a single-minded focus that blocked out the pain, the fear, and the recent memories of two different lifetimes. The faint moonlight barely illuminated the path through the alley, which was littered with debris and the skeletal remains of forgotten buildings. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decay, a stark contrast to the filtered perfection he had known in the Spires. Finally, he stumbled out of the alley and saw it: a wide, dark river, its surface shimmering under the moon. The sight was a beacon in the darkness. He collapsed at the water's edge, his hands sinking into the muddy bank. He bent his head down, ignoring the metallic tang of blood in his mouth, and drank. The cold water was a shock to his system, a jolt of life that soothed the burning in his throat. He drank until his stomach ached, until the world stopped spinning.
The water wasn't just a drink; it was a revelation.
As the cold liquid sluiced down his throat, a jolt, not of life but of raw, unbridled energy, coursed through Sion's body. It was an electrical current, a warm, tingling sensation that spread from his stomach to the tips of his fingers and toes. The pain, the hunger, the exhaustion—it all receded, replaced by a surge of power. His muscles, moments ago like liquid, solidified, and the tremors in his limbs ceased. His mind, once a foggy mess of survival instincts, cleared with astonishing speed.
"Analysis complete," a new, unfamiliar voice echoed in his mind. It wasn't Sweety's familiar, cheerful tone. This voice was deeper, more mechanical, devoid of emotion. "The biological system has established a symbiotic relationship with the Curiosity Core. The core requires a specific bio-catalyst to function. Water, in this world's ecosystem, contains a high concentration of the required component. This world's water is a form of fuel."
Sion pushed himself up to a sitting position, his movements fluid and easy. He felt stronger, more alert, and more in control than he had ever felt in his six-year-old body, even when Sweety was active. He looked down at his hands, watching as the scrapes and cuts from his fall began