Chapter 286: Ordinary Memory

Gideon swung his sword again.

The Unbreakable Sword cut through the Hive Mind’s white flesh, splitting a thick layer of tissue that immediately tried to close around the wound. He twisted his wrist and forced the blade deeper, using his full strength to keep the opening from sealing.

There. For a fraction of a second, something moved behind the translucent membranes.

It was a human silhouette.

Gideon narrowed his eyes. The figure was suspended inside the mass, its limbs tangled in countless white fibers that disappeared beneath its skin. More strands wrapped around its chest and neck, pulsing with the same sickly rhythm as the surrounding tissue.

The host, he had finally found it.

Before Gideon could strike again, white flesh surged between them, hiding the figure behind a thick wall of tissue. Hardened tendrils shot toward him, forcing him to retreat.

He lunged forward, cutting through the tendrils and reopening the wound. He couldn’t use Pyro. Burning the Hive Mind risked releasing spores that could spread beyond the mine and infect others. One wrong move could turn the entire area into another source of infection.

So he kept cutting.

The Hive Mind adapted, throwing up layers of flesh to block his path while dragging its host deeper into the mass. Gideon pressed forward, using each opening before it could close, until Gideon lunged toward the exposed host, but the Hive Mind reacted before he could reach it.

White tendrils coiled around his arm and torso, dragging him into the mass. He slashed at the surrounding flesh, but more of it surged over him, swallowing him faster than he could cut his way free.

’Shit, I don’t have a choice but to be swallowed. I just hope it won’t take too long before this thing causes more catastrophe.’

Within seconds, the platform disappeared from view, and Gideon was engulfed by suffocating darkness. Then the crushing pressure abruptly vanished, leaving nothing but silence.

***

"Gideon! Get up! You’re going to sleep through the entire morning!"

He opened his eyes. Sunlight fell across a familiar bedroom, illuminating a pile of clothes beside the wardrobe and several books scattered across his desk.

The old ceiling fan turned lazily overhead. Somewhere outside, a motorcycle passed along the street, followed by the distant chatter of neighbors beginning their day.

For several seconds, Gideon simply stared at the ceiling.

"Oh, I see. Of course, of course, this is the memory they choose."

Then he slowly sat up and immediately could feel his body feel wrong.

Not grotesquely different, not in the way his mind might have imagined after being swallowed by a parasitic organism. He was simply back in his old body, lean and somewhat frail, without the broad shoulders and solid muscles he had developed after entering the post-apocalyptic world.

His arms looked thinner, his hands less calloused, and the strength he had grown accustomed to was nowhere to be found.

He looked like himself before everything changed.

On the desk, his computer monitor remained dark beside a half-empty glass of water. His phone lay near the keyboard, its screen lighting up when another notification arrived. The date displayed on it belonged to 2025.

Gideon stared at it for a moment before letting out a quiet breath.

’So this is what you came up with.’

He knew he was dreaming or the hive mind was giving him an illusion. Kilian told him, Jade also gave him a short story about what happened when she was being swallowed. But this was too real to become one, he could smell his room, he could feel his face when his hands touched it. The sun feels warm and his body feels weak.

"Shit, do I lose my power too?" he murmured to himself.

But the system answered him:

[Danger detected!]

[Host’s body has been swallowed by parasitic aberrant class S]

[Recovering the host power and body back in 5 minutes 59 seconds]

Gideon sighed in relief, "Oh thank God it just temporarily."

"Gideon! Come here!"

Yet the moment he heard his sister, Callista, shouting from the other room, every sensible thought in his head became considerably less important.

"I’m awake!" he called back.

"Then get out of bed! The kitchen won’t clean itself, and neither will this house!"

Gideon smiled before he could stop himself.

That voice. He had heard it in his memories countless times, usually accompanied by complaints about his sleeping habits, his messy desk, or the fact that he could somehow spend an entire afternoon working in front of a computer without noticing the world around him.

He had missed it more than he wanted to admit.

"I’m coming!"

"That’s what you said ten minutes ago!"

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. His knees felt slightly weak, and his body lacked the effortless stability he had now. It was an odd sensation, but he barely cared.

He dragged a hand through his hair, glanced at the clothes scattered around his room, and decided that some things were apparently universal constants.

Callista’s temper. His own terrible housekeeping. The fact that she would find a reason to complain regardless of what he did.

Somehow, the thought made his smile widen.

When he entered the kitchen, she was already preparing breakfast. Her blonde hair was tied back, and she wore an old shirt with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows. A pan hissed on the stove while several ingredients sat arranged on the counter. Her eyes, the color of the ocean, glanced at him once, then looked pointedly at the table.

"Clean that up before you sit down. What have you been doing in your room, breeding dust?"

"Working."

"You work remotely, not remotely from reality. Look at this place."

Callista gestured toward the hallway, where a laundry basket sat beside a stack of folded clothes. Her expression suggested that she was considering adding his entire existence to the list of household chores.

Gideon pulled out a chair and began clearing the table. "Good morning to you too."

"It would be a better morning if you learned to put things back where they belong."

He laughed under his breath. "You know, most people say they love their younger siblings."

"Most people have younger siblings who know how to use a laundry basket."

There it was. No sentimental greeting, no dramatic embrace. She simply handed him a knife and pointed toward the vegetables.

"Cut those. And don’t make the pieces too big this time. Last time, half of them were practically edible furniture."

"That’s a very specific complaint."

"Because you keep giving me reasons to make it."

Gideon took the knife, his grin lingering as he began chopping. His sister returned to the stove, occasionally telling him to move something, wash something, or stop leaving scraps on the counter. He obeyed while making just enough sarcastic remarks to keep her irritated.

It felt so ordinary that his chest ached.

He remembered this morning.

It had been the first day after their father died from a stroke. Gideon had already been sick, and the months leading up to that morning had been filled with fear, exhaustion, and the constant uncertainty of living with a man whose gambling and drinking had made their home unbearable.

Callista had worked herself ragged trying to keep the household afloat, carrying responsibilities that should never have been hers alone.

Their father’s death had not magically repaired everything. There were bills, unfinished obligations, and a future that still looked frighteningly uncertain. His illness had not vanished overnight either.

But for the first time in years, there was no longer a man in the house who could ruin the day simply by walking through the door.

His sister had gotten up, prepared breakfast, and ordered him to help clean the house.

And Gideon, who had spent so long wishing for a quiet life, had discovered that an ordinary morning could feel like a miracle.

"Why are you staring at the vegetables?" his sister asked.

"Admiring your culinary leadership."

Callista gave him a flat look. "If you have enough energy to talk nonsense, you have enough energy to wash the dishes afterward."

"Cruel woman."

"Lazy man."

He laughed, and she shook her head as though she had long since accepted that her younger brother was a lost cause.

She finally finished cooking. The food was simple, nothing special enough to remember on its own, but Gideon watched his sister place the dishes on the table with an ease that felt painfully familiar. They ate while discussing mundane things: his work, the household expenses, and the errands they needed to finish later.

Callista reminded him not to stay up too late again. He told her she should take a break instead of working herself into the ground. She dismissed the suggestion, pointing out that someone had to make sure they both survived long enough to enjoy their newfound freedom.

"You’re not my boss," he said.

"Then stop behaving like an employee who needs constant supervision."

He nearly choked on his food.

She looked unimpressed. "Chew before you laugh. I’m not paying your medical bills because you forgot how to eat."

The remark was so perfectly her that Gideon had to lower his head to hide his expression.

"You know, I miss you." he whispered, which made her raise her brow.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, your food is terrible."

His sister narrowed his eyes and threw a spoon at his head making him groan, but he couldnt help but laugh.

Gideon decided to enjoy this memory a little bit more.