The larger serpent then turns its gaze toward me. Its eyes meet mine, filled with unfathomable grief, the stare piercing my chest like a thousand icy daggers. I can feel its sorrow, raw and all-encompassing. It’s like being hit by a wave of pure, unadulterated sadness.
I had a family once. I can’t even begin to fathom the despair this creature must be feeling now.
They still think I’m Dr. Keyser because of that blasted submarine! Talk about mistaken identity.
Regret and dread wash over me, leaving me rooted to the spot. My mind spirals, consumed by thoughts of all the ways this could have played out differently. If only I hadn't… If only…
If only I knew… If only I hadn’t used that darned submarine. If only I’d tried running. If only… I had been the one to bite the dust. It attacked first, though. It wouldn’t let go. It’s not my fault!
The agonizing thoughts swirl in my mind, and even darker ones surface. Should I…kill it? Killing it would reunite it with its family in the afterlife. A slightly morbid family reunion, but a reunion nonetheless. The serpent lies beside its child, utterly still.
I should just end its misery. They’re just animals, after all. Right?
I clench my fist. Just one swift, powerful kick, directly into its skull, would do it. A mercy kick. Yeah, that’s it. A mercy kick. I sink down onto its head. As if accepting its fate—or maybe just too depressed to care—it doesn’t move. It looks at me with those lifeless eyes and then closes them.
Deep down, I’m practically begging for a different outcome. As if the universe heard my silent plea, just as I raise my foot above my head, poised to deliver a swift, merciful end, my hair flares up again.
Strands of it twist and solidify, reforming into the smaller serpent. It’s like its consciousness has returned for an encore. A ghostly encore. It whispers softly beside the larger serpent’s ear. The larger serpent’s eyes snap open, a flicker of life returning to its gaze. It murmurs a soft reply before closing them again, this time with a hint of…peace?
Is that peace I see?
Strands of my hair pierce the larger serpent’s head, and a dark aura envelops it. Memories surge into my mind. I see visions of the two serpents meeting—serpent courtship rituals, who knew?—their love, their care for their children, her death, his sorrow, this fight, and finally, his child’s death.
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It’s like watching a really depressing nature documentary, except I was participating in it.
All memories of his love and family flood into me. The serpent’s aura brightens, fading to pure white. His eyes clear, the despair vanishing like morning mist. All his wounds knit themselves closed.
The smaller serpent gently nudges the larger one’s head before dissolving back into strands of hair, returning to their normal silver color.
It’s done. I’ve absorbed all his memories of his family. It’s as if they never existed for him. I’m not sure if it was the right thing to do, but it feels like the smaller serpent’s last wish for its father—for him to continue living without the burden of hate and despair.
The larger serpent glances at the smaller serpent’s body, a flicker of confusion in its eyes, before swimming off into the dark sea.
Not exactly the happy ending I was hoping for. Guess reviving the dead isn’t one of my hair’s special talents. Though, robbing memories and emotions? That’s apparently on the menu.
I slowly ascend to the surface. As I break through and clamber back onto the submarine, a ray of light pierces the darkness.
A sun, remarkably like Earth’s, rises over the horizon.
The seawater glitters in the sunlight, the wind picks up. The distant land and mountains sharpen into view.
It’s almost…picturesque. If I wasn’t practically naked.
Every scrap of fabric on my body is shredded, yet my skin is without a single scratch.
Seriously? Destroying this body is going to be a real pain…
I run my hand through my already dry hair. Not a drop of water stays anywhere on my body when I return to the surface. Examining my hair, I once again try to control it or light it up, but nothing works.
It’s only lit up three times: twice when something died right in front of me—that seems to be the trigger. The last time, I had no clue what set it off, and the effect was completely different. I didn’t even see the golden sphere then.
In all cases, though, it seems I’m absorbing memories through my hair, memories from whatever it was attached to. I wonder what other nifty skills or abilities are hiding in my character tab…
After a couple of minutes of flailing around and looking like a complete idiot, I give up. No skill tab, no character sheet, no system…nothing.
“This is a trash isekai,” I mutter. “Let me go back to my afterlife!” I yell at the sky, half-hoping some bored deity might actually hear me.
I yank off the shredded cloth and scramble back into the submarine to change. Once I’m back in the driver’s seat, I scan the horizon for the nearest large landmass and point the sub in that direction.
Half-submerged, I speed toward the land, keeping a sharp lookout for any more aquatic attackers. Thankfully, the trip is uneventful, and I reach a red sandy beach by the time the sun is only halfway up the sky.
The sun definitely seems to be moving slower than back on Earth.