He looked at his mother lying in the ICU bed, and the world instantly shrank to just that figure. An oxygen tube was attached beneath her nose, moving faintly with what little breath she had left.
On the back of her hand, an IV needle was inserted. Delivering fluids that might or might not be enough to sustain life. Delicate veins visible beneath aging skin. The hands that once felt warm now lay still, holding nothing.
His chest tightened. Not just from the creeping sense of loss, but from the harsh reality striking again—he had to choose.
"This isn't fair…" he whispered. His voice almost vanished, swallowed by the rhythmic beeping of the monitors, as if counting down the final moments.
He took slow steps toward his mother's room. The door opened automatically, letting him in. She wasn't conscious. Only her breathing proved she was still alive. Still here with him.
Alaric sat beside the bed. He gently held his mother's cold hand.
"I already lost you once…"
His voice trembled.
"And now… you want me to lose you again?" he asked, unwilling to accept the system's trial.
The system gave no reply. Only the machine's sounds and a child's faint cough from the room next door echoed—like a whisper of death.
Alaric closed his eyes, overwhelmed with pain.
His thoughts drifted to the past. When his mother defended him from a teacher who mocked his bad grades.
When she made him hot soup on rainy days, when his fever was high.
When she hugged him after his father left, and told him the world wouldn't fall apart because they still had each other.
And now…
He could save her.
With one dose.
That medicine was in his hand. The system had placed it in the pocket of the white coat he wore.
Alaric's steps were heavy as he exited his mother's room.
His eyes looked toward the child's room across. The child was still unconscious. His frail body looked like bones and skin held together by prayers.
His mother… or this child?
"I don't even know him…" he muttered.
"Why do I have to choose?"
His gaze returned to the child. He tried to find a reason to hate him. Maybe if the child was naughty. Maybe if he came from a wealthy family. Maybe if he was arrogant.
But there was none.
The child was just a kid who wanted to live.
Just like his mother.
"Is this really what you call a test?"
Finally, Alaric spoke to the empty air.
"System! If you can hear me… is this what you call measurement? This is torture!"
No answer.
Alaric let out a bitter laugh.
"Is this about logic? Statistics? Utility? Age? Productivity?" he said louder. "Do you think I'm a human or an algorithm machine?"
Still no sound. In front of him, the words in the panel slowly changed.
[This is not about right or wrong. This is about choice]
Alaric took a deep breath, but it felt like no air truly entered his lungs. His chest was heavy, as if the weight of the world pressed against his ribs.
His throat choked, and his eyes began to burn. He rubbed his face roughly, trying to brush away the fear creeping in. But he couldn't.
"Choice…" he muttered. That one word echoed in his mind, piercing deep into his heart.
He looked at his trembling hands. Touched the pocket of his coat. Felt the small, round shape of the medicine bottle inside. Light. But it felt like the weight of an entire world.
Suddenly… he heard a small sound from the right room.
The child opened his eyes. Slowly. His vision still blurry. But his eyes moved, looking toward the window where Alaric stood. For a moment, their eyes met. Then the child smiled… very faintly, very weakly.
And Alaric knew…
He couldn't give it to his mother.
He couldn't repeat the same ego. He couldn't save someone just because she was his. His heart resisted, his body resisted, but his soul knew. This wasn't about possession.
This was about the courage to lose.
His hand placed the small bottle into the hospital's logistics box. The system immediately recognized it.
[Medicine will be delivered to ICU Room 5]
That was the child's room.
Alaric dropped to his knees. His hands covered his face. And he cried.
Not a loud cry, but quiet. His body trembled. Shoulders rose and fell.
"I… I'm sorry, Mom…"
His hand struck the floor.
"Why does it have to be like this?!" he shouted at the ground.
"Why can't I save them both?!"
Even the hospital ceiling gave no answer.
But the system… finally returned.
A new panel lit up.
[Trial Three: PASSED]
[System Comment: "This trial is not about who lives. But about who chooses with heart, not ownership."]
[Result: No one died. This was a moral simulation. There is no real loss. You only needed to prove your heart is still alive."]
Alaric was silent.
Then he cried harder.
But this time… not out of sadness. But out of relief.
Because he didn't lose anyone.
And because… he knew, within himself—so long filled with pain and anger—there was still a heart that chose life. Not for revenge, but to give life.
Alaric was still standing in the hospital corridor, now fading. White walls, the sound of machines, and the smell of antiseptic vanished one by one like morning mist swept away by light. But the feeling in his chest remained. Warm, bitter, and freeing.
[System Initializing]
Darkness slowly fell, like a thick curtain pulled across a stage after a soul-draining performance. Alaric's breath caught, his body felt light, as if it had lost all weight. Then a light shone, a single point in the void.
The next second, he awoke.
His body jerked forward with a soft jolt, like someone choking on water after diving too long. Alaric coughed weakly. His breath ragged. His hand touched a cold flat surface… like metal. He was still in the system training room.
His voice was hoarse. "That… just now…"
He still couldn't tell: dream or reality?
But when he turned, a green light slowly glowed in the air, forming a transparent system panel right in front of his face.
[Ethical Synchronization Tutorial – Complete]
[Emotional Status Stable: 89%]
[Social Intelligence Detected: Mid Level]
[Moral Resilience: High Level]
✓ Trial 1 – Passed
✓ Trial 2 – Passed
✓ Trial 3 – Passed
[System Progress Increased +14%]
[Title Granted: The Soul Who Chose]
The one who chose heart over power.
Alaric was stunned. Those words felt… strange in his mind. The Soul Who Chose.
But more than that, the +14% made his eyes widen.
"Fourteen percent?" he whispered.
"That's all… after all that?"
[The system operates through gradual proof. Today's choice unlocks tomorrow's path]
The voice appeared suddenly. Flat. Without emotion.
Alaric shook his head slightly. "So… those three trials were just the beginning?"
[Correct. The previous trials were not meant to torture. But to align frequencies: between the system and its operator. Now, you can access Basic Interface Skill]
A new panel appeared. This time more compact, glowing in neon blue.
[SKILL UNLOCKED: SYSTEM INTERFACE LV.1]
[Function: View personal stats]
[Detect core intent of others (raw emotions, not thoughts)]
[Store important memories as system crystals]
[Access previous choice logs]
[Skill only active when mental state is stable.]
The panel gently vibrated before disappearing.
Alaric remained silent. He felt something… awaken within him. Not like energy. Not a superpower. But… awareness. A sense that he was now connected to something far bigger, far more complex. As if invisible threads had woven into the way he thought, felt, even decided.
His hand slowly touched his own chest. His heart beat softly.
"So this is how the system works," he whispered.
Not like a game.
Not like a machine.
This system… judged his soul.
He stood slowly from the metal chair. The training room began to fade behind waves of transparency. The floor shifted on its own, and a new panel descended from the ceiling.
The system spoke again.
[Operator Alaric is ready for the first mission]
[Current level: Beginner. But your foundation is stronger than average. Thus, the first mission will be a character experiment, not data collection]
Alaric frowned. "Character experiment?"
[The goal is not success, but reaction. We want to know, if given a little power… what will you do with it]
Alaric said nothing.
This system… wasn't just about granting power. It was like holding up a mirror to the deepest parts of the human soul.
And that was more terrifying.
The room around him began to change. Light dimmed, walls faded, and he now stood in a spotless white room—like a space station waiting room. Metal chairs, glass table, and a single door at the end of the corridor.
[Access: Basic Interface Active]
[Moral Status: Open]
[Ethical Awareness: Stable]
[Empathic Energy: Triggered]
Alaric couldn't hold back a small laugh.
"This… is the most absurd system I've ever imagined. But I like it," he muttered, gazing at the ceiling.