The rain wasn't just cold; it was mean.
Each drop hit like a tiny shard of ice, soaking through the thin layers of whatever rags he managed to scrounge. The city air, thick with exhaust fumes and the smell of wet garbage, clung to him like a shroud.
He hunched deeper into himself, shoving numb fingers into the overflowing bin behind the noodle shop.
Maybe today he'd get lucky. Maybe a half-eaten sandwich. No mold this time, please.
The clatter of plastic containers echoed in the narrow alley. A sharp metallic tang hit his nose – old fish, probably. His stomach gave a low, pathetic growl.
Yesterday had been nothing but a stale crust someone had tossed near a park bench. The day before… he couldn't remember. Days blurred into a smear of hunger and cold.
A door slammed open nearby. "Oi! Get out of there, you little rat!"
He flinched, scrambling back from the bin as a burly vendor waved a steaming ladle threateningly. The man's face was a mask of disgust. Not anger, just… disgust. Like swatting a fly.
He scurried out of the alley, melting back into the indifferent flow of the evening crowd. People bustled past, umbrellas tilted, faces set, eyes fixed straight ahead or down at glowing phones.
He was just another piece of urban detritus, something to be stepped around, not seen. Invisible. Sometimes, he wondered if he even cast a shadow anymore. He kept his head down, letting the river of legs and hurried footsteps wash around him. No point looking up. No one ever met his eyes anyway.
Then, a sound cut through the city's drone: sobbing. Soft, high-pitched, desperate.
Near a brightly lit bus stop, huddled on the wet bench, sat a little girl. Maybe five or six? Her pink coat was soaked, her face red and blotchy with tears. She clutched a small, worn teddy bear, looking utterly lost.
'Where's her mom? Someone should…'
He hesitated. What could he do? He was filth. Approaching her would probably just scare her more, or get him yelled at again. Still, the sound tugged at something brittle inside him.
Before he could decide, a man detached himself from the shadows near the bus shelter. Slicked-back hair, long coat, eyes that darted around too quickly. He slid onto the bench beside the girl, leaning in close.
Too close.
"Hey there, little missy," the man purred, his voice like oil on water. "Lost, are you? Don't worry, Uncle Gregor will help you find your mommy…"
The girl shrank back, clutching her bear tighter. Her crying hitched into frightened little gasps.
Something snapped in the boy's chest. He didn't think. He just moved.
He stumbled forward, deliberately bumping into the man's shoulder. "Hey!" he croaked, his voice rough from disuse. "Leave her alone!"
The man whipped his head around, eyes flashing with annoyance. "Mind your own business, street trash." He started to turn back to the girl.
"I said, leave her alone!" he repeated, louder this time, planting himself between the man and the child. He didn't have a plan. He just knew he couldn't let this happen. He made himself bigger, puffier, trying to look like… something. Anything other than invisible.
The man's eyes narrowed. He saw the boy now. Really saw him. And he didn't like it. "You got a death wish, kid?"
The boy swallowed, trying to ignore the tremor in his hands. He just stared back, defiant.
It happened fast. A glint of metal. A sharp, searing pain bloomed low in his belly. He gasped, looking down. The man's hand was pulling back, leaving behind a dark, rapidly spreading stain on his worn jacket.
'Oh.'
The strength drained from his legs. He stumbled backward, hitting the grimy pavement with a thud. The cold seeped into him instantly, mixing with a strange, spreading warmth from the wound.
Snowflakes, thick and wet, began to drift down, landing on his face, melting against his skin. Everything started to slow down, the sounds of the city blurring into a dull roar. Pain flared, sharp and insistent, then began to fade into a vast, icy numbness.
Through the haze, he saw the little girl scrambling off the bench. The shady man glanced down at him, then nervously at the street, before melting back into the crowd. Gone.
Small hands pressed against his cheek. He blinked, trying to focus. The girl was leaning over him, tears streaming down her face, dripping onto his.
"You're hurt," she whispered, her voice trembling. "He hurt you." She hugged him then, small arms wrapping awkwardly around his neck, pressing her tear-soaked face against his shoulder. "You're a good man… a nice man…"
Good man? Nice man? The words echoed strangely in the fog filling his head. No one… no one had ever called him that. Not once.
A warmth, different from the blood, different from the cold, began to spread from his chest. It felt… nice. Like sunshine after a long winter. The edges of his vision softened, blurring into a gentle, golden light. The pain was distant now, unimportant.
The cold was gone.
His last conscious thought wasn't of the hunger, or the rain, or the vendor's curses. It was of the little girl's words, the unexpected weight of her hug.
…Someone finally saw me.
---
Darkness. But not the cold, empty darkness of the alley. This was… different. Vast. Quiet. Speckled with distant, shimmering lights, like stars trapped in velvet. He felt weightless, formless. Was this it? The big fade-out?
Then, light bloomed before him. Soft, warm, coalescing into a figure. A woman. Tall, impossibly beautiful, draped in robes that flowed like liquid gold. Her eyes, the colour of ancient honey, held an ocean of sorrow. T
ears, like tiny diamonds, tracked paths down her perfect cheeks.
She looked… at him? Or through him? Images flickered around her – his life, the alleys, the trash bins, the endless cold, the moment by the bus stop. She saw it all.
Her voice, when she spoke, was like the chime of distant bells, laced with genuine grief.
"Oh, child. You poor, forgotten child." She reached out, her luminous hand hovering near where his face might be. "No one should endure such disregard. You deserved warmth. You deserved kindness. You deserved… better."
He felt a flicker of something. Resentment? Confusion?
'Who are you?'
As if hearing the unspoken thought, she offered a sad smile.
"I am known by many names, though few remember them now. The Silent Giver. The Tender Hand. Mostly, I am the Goddess of Pity and Wealth. A minor deity, largely… unworshipped in your world."
She gestured to the flickering memories. "But I saw you. Your final act… your small, brave defiance against evil… it resonated."
Her expression grew serious, though the sadness never truly left her eyes. "Your thread has been cut, little one. You stand at the precipice. You can choose to fade into the quiet echo of what was, forgotten completely."
Her gaze held him. "Or… you can accept a gift. A second chance. A new life, in a different world. I cannot erase your pain, but I can offer you… a blessing."
A choice? He never got choices. 'A new life?' The idea felt alien, impossible. 'What's the catch?'
"There is always a balance," she said softly. "I offer you one blessing, powered by my dwindling divinity. It is tied to my domains – pity, compassion, and the accumulation of worldly means."
Golden light gathered in her palm. It solidified, pulsed, then seemed to flow into him. He felt a strange tingling sensation, like static electricity behind his eyes. Suddenly, translucent letters and symbols flickered into existence at the edge of his awareness, like words projected onto a screen only he could see.
System Initializing…
Domain Compatibility Confirmed: Pity & Wealth.
Installing: Wealth Accumulation System.
Core Function: Earn wealth through acts aligned with divine principles (Courage, Compassion, Resilience).
He blinked. HUD? System? What the heck was this? 'Is this… a game?'
The Goddess smiled gently, seeming to understand his confusion without him speaking. "It is a tool, child. A way for you to navigate the path ahead. A means to gain strength, resources… perhaps even respect. How you use it will be up to you."
She raised her hand again, and a single mote of golden light touched his forehead. It felt… warm. Real. "You were nameless for too long. In this new life, you shall be known. I name you Sunny. May you bring a little light into the dark places."
Sunny. The name felt strange, but… good. Like a clean shirt after weeks in rags.
The Goddess's form began to shimmer, becoming less distinct.
"My power fades," she whispered, her voice growing distant. "I have given what little I had left." As her light dimmed, something small and heavy dropped into his hand. He looked down – or where his hand felt like it was. A single, gleaming gold coin, warm to the touch.
"This time, Sunny," her final words echoed in the void, filled with a fierce, unexpected hope. "Let the world owe you."
She smiled, "I hope we meet again."
Then, she was gone. The starry void rushed towards him, engulfing him completely.