The morning sun spilled across the rooftops of a quiet village, its golden light glinting off the hands of children gathered in the square. Their laughter echoed through the air, mixed with the sound of prideful boasts.
"Look, mine went up to 87 after yesterday's hunt!" one boy shouted, thrusting his hand into the air for everyone to see. The number glowed faintly against his skin, proof of his growing strength.
"Ha! You're still behind me. I hit 120 last night after sparring with my brother!" another retorted, smirking as his friends crowded around to admire his glowing digits.
It was a common sight in every corner of the world—children, youths, and adults alike comparing their numbers. A simple mark, engraved at birth, that decided the worth of a person.
A person's number was more than a symbol. It was power. It was potential. It was life itself.
Win a battle, and your number rose.
Lose, and it fell.
And if your number ever reached zero…
A heavy silence seemed to hang over the thought. Everyone knew what happened then. The Abyss came. From beneath your feet, black arms would burst forth, snatching your body and soul, dragging you into eternal darkness. No one had ever returned.
The strong lived. The weak disappeared. That was the law of numbers.
"Hey, Rey."
The call was mocking, not friendly.
Rey looked up, his hand still tucked deep inside his sleeve. The children who had been bragging only moments ago now turned to him with sneers plastered across their faces.
"What's your number again? Oh wait…" One of them grinned cruelly. "You don't have one."
The group erupted in laughter.
Rey didn't flinch, though his jaw tightened. Slowly, he uncurled his fist inside his sleeve, letting his eyes fall upon the mark etched into his skin.
It wasn't numbers. No glowing digits, no value to compare. Just a single looping symbol—∞.
From the moment of his birth, people had whispered. The midwives had gasped. The elders had muttered about curses and omens. His parents had shielded him, but even they could not hide the truth: Rey was different.
In a world where numbers meant everything, he had none.
To the villagers, that made him worthless. Powerless. A mistake.
"Better keep your sleeves down," another boy jeered. "Wouldn't want anyone else to laugh at your cursed mark."
Rey's hand twitched, his nails digging into his palm. The symbol on his skin pulsed faintly, as if in response to his anger. He quickly curled his fist tighter, hiding the glow before anyone noticed.
"Maybe the Abyss will come early for him," one boy whispered loudly enough for all to hear. "Since he's got no number to lose anyway."
More laughter followed.
Rey didn't speak. He rarely did. Instead, he turned away, walking toward the edge of the square. But as he passed, one of the boys shoved him hard in the shoulder. He stumbled, catching himself before falling.
"Careful, Rey!" the boy mocked. "Wouldn't want to trip and lose the number you don't have."
Their laughter stung worse than the shove. Still, Rey kept walking.
He told himself he was used to it. That it didn't matter. Yet deep inside, a storm brewed.
Numbers were everything.
And he had none.
---
The path home wound past the edge of the forest, where faint howls echoed in the distance. Rey paused, glancing toward the trees.
Monsters roamed there. Creatures that carried numbers just like people. Hunters often ventured into the forest to slay them, raising their own numbers while harvesting the beasts' cores.
Rey stared at his hand again. The strange mark glowed faintly beneath the morning light.
"Why me?" he whispered.
Why had he been born this way? Why hadn't he been given even a single digit like everyone else?
He clenched his fist, frustration boiling in his chest. The mark flickered again, a faint shimmer of light rippling outward like heat. Rey froze, heart pounding. He hadn't imagined it. The symbol… it had responded.
But before he could think further, a scream echoed behind him.
"Help! Somebody help!"
Rey spun, eyes widening. Down the path, one of the boys from earlier stumbled backward, pursued by a snarling wolf. Its body was lean, its eyes glowing faintly red. And on its paw, visible even from a distance, burned the number 42.
A weak monster by hunter standards—but more than enough to kill a child.
The boy tripped, crashing to the dirt. The wolf lunged, jaws snapping.
Without thinking, Rey moved.
His legs carried him forward, his body acting before his mind. He grabbed a broken branch from the ground and swung it with all his strength. The wood cracked against the wolf's side, startling it enough to halt its attack.
The creature turned, growling low. Its glowing number pulsed like a heartbeat, as if mocking Rey for daring to stand against it.
The boy scrambled to his feet and ran, leaving Rey alone in front of the beast.
Rey's breath caught. He knew the rules. To fight was to risk numbers. To lose was to risk the Abyss. And yet… he had no number to lose.
The wolf lunged. Rey raised the branch, but the beast shattered it with a swipe of its claws. The blow sent Rey sprawling to the ground, pain flaring across his chest.
The wolf loomed above him, its glowing digits burning brighter as it prepared to strike.
Rey's eyes fell to his hand. The ∞ symbol shone brilliantly now, brighter than ever before.
And then… the air changed.
A pressure burst outward, invisible yet undeniable. The wolf froze mid-attack, its body trembling as if crushed beneath an unseen weight. Its number flickered violently—42, then 41, then 39—dropping faster and faster as Rey's mark pulsed with light.
Rey gasped, staring in shock as the digits bled away from the beast's paw, vanishing into nothingness.
The wolf gave a final whimper before collapsing lifelessly to the ground. Its number had fallen to 0.
For a moment, silence reigned. Then the earth beneath the corpse split open.
A black arm, long and twisted, reached out from the shadows, wrapping around the wolf's body. With a violent yank, it dragged the carcass downward, into the waiting Abyss. Within seconds, both arm and body were gone.
Rey lay frozen, heart hammering in his chest.
His mark pulsed once more before fading back to its dormant glow.
He looked down at his hand, trembling.
"What… was that?" he whispered.
No one was there to answer.
But deep within him, Rey already knew. His mark was no curse. It was no mistake.
It was power.
And it had just devoured a number.