Chapter 9: Crossing the Abyss

The lizard meat sizzled slowly over the fire. Luke stared at the flames, but his thoughts were fixed on the system screen:

Name: Luke
Level: 2
Rank: F
Class: Assassin (lvl 5)
Race: Human
Profession: –
Titles: –
Health Points (HP): 190/190
Mana Points (MP): 35/110
Stamina: 65/90

Stats:
Strength: 15
Agility: 23
Endurance: 9
Vitality: 19 -> 20
Perception: 16
Intelligence: 11
Free Points: 1 -> 0

His only free point went straight into Vitality. Just a small edge. Maybe meaningless, maybe the difference between life and death. He went back to eating. The meat had no flavor. Tough, chewy, dry. But that wasn’t what bothered him. Even after days without a proper meal, he didn’t feel hunger, not in his stomach but in his mind. Tension curled like a knot in his throat, the quiet dread before a mission.

And then, his thoughts drifted. Clara, her firm, relentless hugs every time he left the house. Martin, his long-winded lectures, then awkward apologies for pushing too hard. Noah, the older brother trying to be understanding, trying to get through his silence. And Lillian, that little girl who saw him as a hero, who always asked to ride on his back from school to home, even when she could walk just fine.

Luke swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I really am. I’ve been selfish.”

He had lived with them for years, but he’d never let them in. He was afraid, afraid that if he opened his heart, he’d forget his mother. Afraid that accepting a new family meant betraying the one he lost. But now, he understood just how much he loved them, how deeply he missed them.

You probably think I hated you. But I didn’t. I just… didn’t know how to let go.

He drew a deep breath, eyes locked on the flickering fire. “We really only learn to value something once we’ve lost it.”

But this wasn’t goodbye. He wasn’t using the pain to retreat. He would use it to advance—to survive. To win. He stood. There was no room left for hesitation. He would steal that damn key. Ascend through the dungeon. Make it to the tutorial. And then, go back home and apologize for not being the son they deserved. He steadied his feet, eyes clear, steps sure.

“I’ll finish this challenge.”

***

Hours passed, maybe a day. Luke had already lost track of time. He’d waited until his mana fully recovered, then sat motionless before the bridge, letting his stamina refill to its limit. Nothing could be left to chance now. When he finally stood, he drew a slow breath and stepped forward. Then stopped.

His gaze drifted downward. The abyss was worse than he remembered—deeper than darkness, heavier than death. It wasn’t just a void. It was a presence. Staring into it felt like confronting space itself: endless, starless, soundless. No return.

Luke closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, he locked his gaze ahead. The bridge stretched far into the darkness, angling upward like a stone ramp suspended over nothing. One wrong step, one slip, and that was it.

Barefoot, he placed one foot forward. Then the other. Like a predator. Like an assassin. Spine straight, chin level, eyes fixed on the goal. Mind emptied. The world fell away. Each step was light, silent, measured. Wind rose from the abyss and kissed his skin like a warning whisper.

Then… the bridge shook. Luke swallowed but didn’t react. Didn’t brace. Didn’t panic. He let his body move with it, shifting weight like water in a swaying boat. Then kept going. Each step became a small victory. Sweat trickled down his face, but his focus never wavered. The abyss gnawed at his thoughts. The wind grew stronger. The bridge trembled again—harder this time. Luke faltered. His balance wobbled, his breath caught.

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He adjusted. Don’t fight the bridge. Flow with it.

But the path ahead changed. It felt longer now, farther, as if the goal kept stretching away with every step. Panic flared. He dropped to his knees. The bridge went wild. It bucked and swayed like a rope in a hurricane. Stone shouldn’t move like that. Reality shouldn’t bend like that.

“No…” he whispered, fingers clawing at the surface.

The abyss reached up like it wanted to swallow him whole. The bridge wasn’t stable. It was alive, like the sea, like instinct. Luke forced himself to stand, unsteady, strained. The moment he got up… the bridge calmed. He exhaled slowly.

It’s a test.

Everything in this dungeon was. Wait too long and the bridge punished you. Step correctly and it flowed beneath you—like a beast tamed by the rhythm of its predator. He closed his eyes. Envisioned it again. A panther. Still. Silent. Lethal. When his eyes opened, they locked onto the far end of the bridge. The chest. The throne. The temple. He moved. One foot after the other. Pure instinct. Weightless. Like a breath in the dark. Then…

A voice behind him. Exactly like his own. “You’re going to fall.”

Luke froze. Every muscle locked. He wanted to look back, but something held him. He knew—if he turned, the bridge would react again.

The voice returned. “I told you… you’re going to fall.”