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The significance of the numbers, those which he had seen, had so far meant nothing to Sock. They appeared over a person's head like a health bar, and displayed the Relevancy that person had in your life.
And that had been relatively low all of his life. Both of his parents were on the average scale of 0.4 or 0.5, and they fluctuated with the day.
The brief moments of knowing his childhood friend, Jojo, racked up to a 0.7 until he traumatized her for life and she moved away. Even his puppy, Silver, stayed at a stagnant 0.3 Relevance until this point in his life.
He was beginning to wonder if his life ever really meant anything to anyone.
Sock went for a walk one day. He wasn't going anywhere in particular; didn't really have a specific reason in mind. Maybe he'd spot a number higher than a 0.1 or 0.2 today and strike up a conversation. It might not go anywhere but it would sure feel nice for a moment.
There was a place under a bridge he liked to hang out in. It was sheltered from most weather forecasts, prying eyes, and sunlight. Sock would sit in the spot for hours, listening to the cars pass above, and the silence after they'd gone. It was nicer than watching 0.0 Relevance's pass on the street.
After a while of aimless wandering, he made tracks towards the bridge. But soon after arriving, he realized he wasn't alone.
Someone was here, in his usual spot. And as Sock's eyes adjusted to the dimmer lighting, the first thing he realized that the person had a needle in their arm. The second thing he realized was the Relevance number above their head.
0.97
Sock's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. "You-" he started, but didn't get very far with the sentence, because as he looked down and locked eyes with the person, they dropped their needle, stumbling as they got up and bolted from the scene.
"Hey!" Sock called out, following them, "Wait a second!"
Sock couldn't run very fast, and soon lost track of the stranger. He slowed down to a walk and then stopped, his shoulders sagging dejectedly.
He turned and walked back to the bridge, disappointed in himself that he let such a Relevant individual get away.
* * * * * * *
Later that night, Sock awoke to find himself in blood soaked pajamas and surrounded by the corpses of his parents. Their Relevance was gone, now that they were dead, and Silver was nowhere to be found.
Sock was now tasked with burying his parents. It only seemed right, and he felt bad just leaving their corpses for the neighbors to find. Luckily it was the middle of the night and they lived fairly close to the cemetery so he didn't have to drag them very far.
Afterwards though, he was aware of his consequences. He couldn't go on living after killing his folks, not because he loved them that dearly or anything, but he knew he couldn't live his life knowing he'd fucked up this badly.
It's not like his life was Relevant anyways, except to that stranger he met under the bridge today, but they were long gone by now, and Sock might never see them again.
He sighed, pulling out his knife. "Well Ol' Friend..."
* * * * * * *
"Welcome to Hell, would ya like a hand?"
Sock looked up from where he lay. Before him stood a thin man in a wine colored suit, with a Relevance of 666. The tall ginger gentleman offered his hand to Sock, who took it gratefully.
Sock was pulled into a rather bland looking office. Already the man was prattling off about something, but Sock was too fixated on the Relevance above his head.
"Ah, excuse me sir," Sock said politely, "But do you always have a Relevance of 666?"
"Huh? Oh you're from /that/ universe, eh? Yeah, it's the same for everyone. Unlike you humans, with your fluctuating Relevances, mine basically stays the same. The devil is always very Relevant, y'know?"
Sock didn't know, but nodded anyway.
"Ah, you'd probably get it if you were older. Or more religious. Anyway, what d'ya say about that job?"
Sock looked confused. "Job?"
"Yeah the one I've just been- You weren't paying attention, were you?"
Sock shook his head.
"Cripes, okay. Basically you're gonna torture some poor Irrelevant person to death, and you get paid with abilities the more souls you take."
"Abilities?"
"Yeah, like, 10 souls gives you Possession, and 50 allows you to reveal yourself to other humans under certain circumstances... At least I think, haven't really checked the chart in a while..."
"Sure." It was better than being tortured in Hell and suffering for all eternity, right?
Mephistopheles plopped a manilla folder down on his desk. "Here's your target. His Relevance to anyone has been laughably low for years. Even his folks haven't risen above a 0.2 since his birth. Sad, huh?"
Sock looked down and opened the folder, revealing a profile of a moody teenager with a blond undercut and half lidded eyes. Jonathan Combs, was the name on the profile. He looked familiar, but Sock couldn't place where he'd seen the guy before.
"Well, I'll see you soon kid." He vaguely heard his boss say before the office spun and he found himself sitting at a table in a strange house.
He looked up from the file to meet the same blue eyes of the teen in the profile.
Jonathan had his eyes wide open in shock, a sandwich frozen halfway to his open mouth, silent.
Sock flicked his eyes up to just over the guy's head on reflex, shocked to find that he could still see Relevance despite being dead, a moment before his jaw dropped.
0.97
There was no mistaking it, he'd found the stranger from under the bridge.
Sock closed his mouth and smiled, leaning on his elbows and dropping his eyes to meet the still narrowed blues of the shocked drug addict before him.
"Found you," said Sock.