Chương 49: A particular effect

The difference between nothing and something is much vaster than the difference between God and a monkey. Give someone a billion stat points, and the change still wouldn't be as profound. Dennis was in pain. Dennis was in horrible pain. The world he lived in didn't make sense. He was a person who always knew what they wanted and never had doubts. Comfortable in his own skin and content with his choices, he was the one who figured out the meaning of life at ten years old and lived in pure bliss ever since.

There was no zealot in this or any other world as comfortable with their path in life as Dennis was. Every action served one grand purpose. Everything that happened around him was understood through that lens. The world was simple, and perfect. He was passionate about what he loved, hated what was in opposition of that, and didn't care about anything else. Beside him, Lily's body sat still. Motionless. Dead. He was dragging her around on the off-chance that she could be saved, which was a heroic thing to do, but…

She was dead because of him. He should've never left her alone. His house was empty. His mom wasn't there. Of course, she wouldn't be. He didn't know where she was. She was the only one who still loved the broken husk that was him, the one who gifted him the most precious thing in the world, and he took it, and discarded her like a broken controller that was no longer useful for anything but being a part of his heroic backstory. After all, he was busy being a hero. He was saving lives. He was becoming a speedster.

What use was–"F-fuck," he whispered with trembling voice. He should've saved her. He could've saved her. If only he went to the right.

"I-I'm not a h-hero." The reassuring smile wasn't so reassuring anymore.

"I'm not even a v-villain." It was mocking.

"I'm a monster." For the first time in his memories, Dennis felt regret. It wasn't like he was incapable of feeling the emotion before. He felt it plenty, when he missed out on a good sale, or didn't stock enough potions before trying to beat a boss. But it was never really his fault. Just the world being unfair, just him having incomplete information, or not having enough time to think things through. He never doubted himself. Not like this. Never like this. And the worst thing… he didn't change.

The Soul stat didn't magically unfuck whatever was wrong with him. He was still the same person. He still wanted to be a speedster more than anything. He still thought that dragging Lily's corpse around was an annoying chore. She's fucking dead because of you you dumb fuck! He… he still didn't love his mom. Not like he was supposed to. Not like she deserved. He still didn't really care. For the first time in his memories, Dennis felt guilt. It was immense. Overwhelming.

The Soul stat didn't magically make him a better person. The blade glinted in his hand. Flash looked at him with scorn. The Gift of Glorious Dream judged him unworthy. The Soul stat made him doubt. It made him realize what a colossal piece of shit he was. Worse than a villain. Worse than a monster. He was… he didn't deserve to be even mentioned in a superhero story. He was the furthest thing from what he dreamed of. An absolute antithesis. An anathema. For the first time in his life, Dennis hated himself.

The hate was all-consuming. He never hated anything like that. He didn't know it was possible. The Soul didn't change him, it had shown him what he was. Outlined the void that his heart was, the ugly dead cadaver incapable of sparing a single thought for anything that wasn't his glorious dream. Change?

"What a joke…" He won't change. You can't wish your way into being a different person. You can't stop wanting a thing or care about another thing just because you thought that it would be better. Dennis didn't want to look for his mom. It was a chore. He had to, now that he acknowledged her, because it was what a hero would do. He wanted to stop dragging Lily's body around everywhere, just ditch her with the hobo, find himself a weapon and grind those fucking Arms, and then save someone who's actually easy to save.

He wanted to cheat the System and assimilate The Glorious Dream, fuck The Gift, and forget ever entering this basement. He wanted to go out into the place between places and sit there until the void ate the fucking stump that was the Soul point, because it hurt. He wanted to go back to how things were, and be a hero, and a speedster, and live his dream. But he wouldn't, because he wasn't delusional enough to ignore reality, and Soul had shown him the truth. He could be a speedster alright. He could never be a hero.

He just couldn't. He was fundamentally incapable of it. Invalid. Broken. Not wired right. His dream was impossible. The creature that was Dennis could never fulfill his dream because it was factually impossible for him to be what he wanted to be more than anything in the world. He still wanted to be a hero. He still wanted to be a speedster.

His dream didn't change, and didn't weaken, and he was still a simple creature who loved what was in support of it and hated what was in opposition of it and– The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. He was a monster. He hated himself so fucking much. What was the point? His grip tightened.

"A bit harsh on yourself, aren't ya?" a voice broke him out of his spiral. Gareth was slowly descending the stairs, hand gliding on the railing. His every step was measured, showing no hurry nor sluggishness. There was something different about the man. An air of casual confidence about him. Not arrogance or superiority, but some sort of quiet cheerfulness of a person who remembered a good joke but decided not to share it. Nothing visually changed about him.

He still was unhealthily thin, wore filthy rags that belonged in a dumpster, and really needed a haircut. He somehow made the look work. The rags weren't trash, but a statement about not wasting things. Being underfed made the guy look like some sort of ascetic. Long hair added an air of mysticism. Dennis could see him leading a cult. The dude looked like Jesus. Still a hobo though. A Floridian hobo Jesus.

Unlike the previous iteration of Gareth, Dennis could see this one beating a dozen or two goblins with his bare hands. Somehow.

"What is it with you and breaking into people's houses?" Dennis grumbled.

"Ah, but this is to be my new residence, innit?" Gareth replied cheerfully, coming closer to the poster.

"Such a beautiful thing, don't you think?"

"Go away."

"Why, so you can brood more?" the man chuckled as he removed his hand from the wall.

"Nay, I don't think I will."

"I will stab you," Dennis said, glancing at Lily. She wouldn't mind him stealing some of her moves. The threat made the man pause for just a second, before he released another chuckle.

"A scary future," he admitted with a gentle smile.

"Considering you already did once, tried for a second time, and now promising the third. But I don't think I'm afraid of the future. It's been a while since I was, y'know?" Gareth sat on the floor beside Dennis, on the opposite side of where Lily was. Three of them sat in silence for a while. The man wasn't in a hurry to break it.

"You were eavesdropping?" Dennis finally relented, asking in a hushed tone.

"I've heard a thing or two," Gareth admitted with a shrug.

"How much?"

"Everything, I reckon," he said without shame.

"Didn't want to interrupt, y'see? It's important to let a man share his griefs with the dead, yanno? Though they're usually buried beforehand."

"She's still alive." Dennis glared at the man sharply.

"Maybe she is," Gareth didn't push.

"Hell if I know how the world works nowadays. Or maybe the afterlife is real and people are never really gone?" he said in a dreamy tone, looking up at something that Dennis couldn't see.

"She's still actually fucking alive!" Dennis screamed, raising his hand to smack the hell out of the idiot.

"Not fucking metaphorically! Can't you see–""Peace!" Gareth raised his arms, still fucking chuckling.

"Peace! I meant nothing by that. If you say she's alive, I believe ya." Dennis realized what he was going to do. Guilt and hatred hit him stronger than any Arm ever could. The broken blade clattered on the ground. Thankfully, Gareth said nothing about the sobbing. Just sat nearby.

"You're not as bad as you think you are," he broke the silence after a few minutes.

"You have no fucking idea –""Do you think," he interrupted.

"That I care who feeds me? Who gives me their change?"

"What are you–""I don't," Gareth said.

"Whether they do it to stroke their ego, or because they lost a bet, or because they just want me to leave. Good is good, even if it's the Devil himself who fills mah belly."

"You don't get it," Dennis retorted, wiping his face.

"You just don't understand how fucked up I am. You think that I'm not so bad because I now feel repentant or some shit? Dude, I'm not even doing that. The only reason why I feel like shit is because–""Nay," Gareth said.

"Oh stop fucking interrupting–""Didn't say anything about feeling repentant, did I?" he continued.

"Hearing what you want and not what I say, eh? Tis true that I don't know what happens in that head of yours, but do I care? Hell nah. Lotsa people felt pity for me, or guilt for not helping me. Most of them, even. Didn't mean shit, eh? One bastard who helps is worth more than a hundred well-meaning passersby, tis what I believe. And you're one of those who helps, I feel. Otherwise you wouldn't be carrying that girl around like a fanny pack, now would ya?"

Dennis shifted, somehow feeling uncomfortable at the accusation that he was actually doing something good.

"It's– It's wrong," Dennis denied.

"Me trying to save her is basically an accident. A by-product of my particular brand of fuckupness. And she's like that because of me in the first place."

"Some people would feel very guilty about that," Gareth nodded wisely, like an old sage.

"Oh go fuck yourself. I– I can't be a hero. I'm not exaggerating, I'm physically incapable of it. The best I can do is an imitation so cheap it's not even funny. And I didn't even understand that until, like, right now."

"Hmm…" Gareth scratched his chin, deep in thought.

"I think I'm missing something? You just saved my life, no? That makes you a hero."

"No it doesn't."

"Yes it does."

"Your definition of 'hero' sucks ass. Mine's way cooler."

"Ah." Gareth hit the palm of his hand with a fist, realization coming to him as he looked at the poster." Ah! So that's what– Holy shit you want a lot from yourself, boy."

"I want just enough!"

"Have you tried lowering your standards?"

"Fuck you!" A kind laugh filled the basement.

"Ah, I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" Gareth tried to wipe a tear while Dennis fumed.

"It's just… It's hard to have your life saved only for your saviour to immediately cry how bad they are. Rubs me the wrong way, y'see? You did good, boy. You're doing good. I bet you'll keep doing good. What does it matter if you got a few screws loose?"

"But…" Dennis hesitated, looking at the poster.

"I'll never be like him. I can't."

"Maybe you won't," Gareth shrugged.

"Or maybe you will."

"What are you, Master Shifu? Do you just try to say wise nonsense because you don't want to admit that I'm fucked?"

"What I'm trying to say is… the world seems very magical nowadays. Who knows what can happen? This Dream of yours looks very beautiful, not gonna lie. No shame in trying to reach that. You're not there yet, so what? I think what you want to be defines you as much as what you are, and what I see is beautiful."

"Glorious," Dennis muttered.

"What?"

"It's a Glorious Dream," Dennis said.

"Not beautiful. Your spirit senses are shit."

"I'm out of practice, it seems," Gareth smiled." Glorious. Seems like a good thing to work for, eh? Things that are easy to get are never worth it anyways."

"You mean…" Dennis gulped.

"You think that I should keep trying anyways? That's just impossible. Not for me when I–""What else would you do?" Gareth asked. What else? If he abandoned his dream… Ah. Soul had shown him the truth, but pain and hatred blinded him to another one. Dennis didn't change. He was still the same person.

"Nothing," he said reluctantly, but conviction was quick to return to his voice. It was only right.

"I will do nothing else. This is the only option. I will become a hero speedster, or die trying."

"Probably die trying though," he added.

"With it being impossible on principle and stuff…"

"I wouldn't be so sure," Gareth said.

"You're already doing some good work, methinks."

"Thanks?"

"What are you gonna do next?"

"Oh, there's this mysteriously dying distant person who–""Nooo," Gareth said with a playful frown, prolonging the 'o', like a patient teacher who wanted their student to solve a simple math problem.

"Oh, I–" Dennis used the full power of his Mind to figure out what was wrong with the answer.

"I should… Ehm… I should look for my mom? There's a nice chance that she's literally floating above our heads?"

"That's mah boy."