Chapter 53: The Price of everything.
In a world divided between the Higher Society and the Lower Society, privilege determined how high one could climb.
Those born at the top were handed opportunities upon a golden platter.
Those born at the bottom fought simply to survive.
If you wanted something, you had to risk something in return.
If it was a loaf of bread you wished to steal, then you had to be prepared for the beating that would follow should you be caught. If it was something far beyond your station, then you had to wager something equally precious. And if what you desired was everything... then life itself became the price.
Roman had learned that lesson the hard way.
He was barely six years old when the orphanage organized one of its rare field trips into the Upper Echelon. Officially, it was meant to broaden the children’s horizons. In reality, it was little more than an opportunity for wealthy families to discard broken toys and worn-out belongings while convincing themselves they had performed an act of charity.
Most of the children rushed toward piles of old clothes and half-broken gadgets, eagerly fighting over anything that still looked usable. Roman’s curiosity, however, wandered elsewhere until it settled upon a strange object lying forgotten beneath a wooden bench. It was a globe. The paint had chipped away in several places, a long crack ran across one side, yet it still rotated smoothly when nudged with a finger. Tiny continents drifted across its surface as though an entire world had somehow been imprisoned inside a fragile sphere.
He had never seen anything like it.
Without thinking, he bent down and picked it up.
The next instant...
A heavy fist crashed into his face.
Pain exploded across his nose as blood streamed over his lips, the globe slipping from his hands before a boy nearly twice his size snatched it from the ground.
"Mine."
The older child didn’t even spare him another glance before turning away with the globe tucked beneath his arm.
Roman remained seated on the dirt. Unlike most children his age, he neither cried nor shouted for the adults. He simply held his bleeding nose with both hands and watched.
Before the larger boy managed to take more than a few steps, another child lunged from the side and tackled him to the ground. The globe changed hands once again. Then another child joined the struggle, followed by another and another until the small courtyard descended into complete chaos. Punches, kicks, and screams erupted one after another as the broken globe passed from bruised hands to bruised hands.
Throughout it all, the adults merely watched.
What had begun as charity had quietly become entertainment.
None of the children cared that the globe was broken. To many, it had simply become a prize worth fighting over. Others didn’t even understand what it was; they only knew that everyone else wanted it. But to Roman, it was different. He didn’t understand the world painted across its surface either, yet the thought that an entire world could fit inside something so small fascinated him in a way he couldn’t explain.
That curiosity alone made it worth having.
Slowly wiping the blood from beneath his nose, Roman climbed back to his feet. His gaze settled upon the latest victor still clutching the globe. Without the slightest hesitation, he walked straight toward him before driving his forehead into the boy’s face with all the strength his small body could muster.
Crack.
The sickening sound echoed throughout the courtyard.
The boy collapsed instantly, but Roman didn’t stop. He threw himself on top of him and continued striking his face again and again until blood splattered across the dirt and broken teeth rolled free from the boy’s mouth. Only then did the expressions of the watching adults finally change.
This was no longer children fighting over discarded toys.
If they waited any longer...
One of them might actually die.
They rushed forward, forcibly dragging Roman away from the unconscious child. Not because they cared what became of either orphan, but because allowing a child to die during their little act of charity would’ve shattered the image they wished to present.
Roman said nothing.
He simply picked the globe up from the ground and held it close.
Around him, the other children silently backed away one step after another. None of them dared meet his eyes.
Only then did Roman truly understand.
If you wanted something badly enough, hesitation was a luxury you couldn’t afford. Strength decided ownership, yet strength alone was never enough. Had the other boy been stronger... had he been quicker... had he been smarter... then Roman would’ve been the one left broken upon the dirt.
Everything had a price.
The greater the reward...The greater the price one had to be willing to pay.
Thump.
The sound was so faint that no one noticed it.
Gre Ka Chu remained frozen, her trembling hands cradling Roman’s unmoving body as tears silently rolled down her face. Her ears drooped lifelessly while her crimson eyes remained fixed upon his pale expression, refusing to accept what lay before her.
Then..
Thump.
This time his chest rose ever so slightly.
Gre Ma Go’s pupils contracted.
"His!!.... "
Before the words could leave his mouth..
THUMP!
Roman’s heart violently lurched back to life.
Air rushed into his lungs in a harsh gasp as his body convulsed violently, another mouthful of blood bursting from between his lips before his heartbeat rapidly gathered strength.
THUMP!
THUMP!
THUMP!
Life...Had returned.
"He’s alive!"
"The Tribal Chief...!"
"His heart...!"
Disbelief spread throughout the room. Moments earlier, they had watched their Tribal Chief die before their very eyes. His heartbeat had vanished. His breathing had ceased. Even the warmth within his body had begun fading.
Yet now...
His heart beat once more.
Gre Ka Chu tightened her embrace around him as though she feared he would disappear again the moment she loosened her grip.
"...Don’t..."
Her voice trembled uncontrollably.
"...Please don’t leave me..."
Fresh tears streamed freely down her cheeks as she buried her face against his shoulder.
Roman never responded.
His breathing remained shallow.
His eyes never opened.
Inside the endless darkness of his consciousness, however, countless notifications erupted one after another.
[God’s Whisper has ended.]
[Soul Strengthening terminated.]
[1,900 Karma Points have been consumed.]
[Soul Integrity has fallen below the safe threshold.]
[Emergency Preservation Protocol initiated.]
[Warning!]
[The Lesser God’s consciousness has suffered severe damage.]
[Autonomous cognitive functions are being suspended.]
[Physical survival has been prioritized.]
[Estimated recovery period: Unknown.]
[The Lesser God’s Status Updated.]
[Vegetative State.]
[Duration: Undetermined.]
[The Lesser God will remain unconscious until sufficient Soul Integrity has been restored.]
The notifications slowly faded one after another until only a single line remained suspended within the endless darkness.
[Recovery... in progress.]