"Heh... What a wonderful day... Tee-hee, let’s do it again tomorrow!"
Night fell. Exhausted after a day of unprecedented carefree fun, and mindful of the early morning shoot the next day, no one was in the mood for a bonfire party or anything similar. Everyone returned to the cruise ship early, ready to rest.
Michael was still sitting alone on the balcony, a glass of orange juice beside him. He hadn’t bothered chilling it; the night sea breeze alone was enough to make the glass ice-cold.
The sound of running water from the bathroom mingled with the sound of waves washing against the cruise ship, becoming indistinguishable. Even so, the mont the water in the bathroom quieted, Michael instantly sensed the change.
Slap— Slap— Slap—
Elysia impatiently erged, draped in a bath towel, her body still not completely dry. Barefoot, each step she took on the floor left a distinct, wet footprint.
"Aren’t you afraid of catching a cold?"
Michael grumbled. Instantly, the sea breeze stopped blowing in from the balcony, and a gentle warmth began to fill the room. It wasn’t a scorching heat like fire, but more like the warm breeze of lting snow in spring, making one feel as if their whole body might lightly float away.
Feeling the moisture on her skin rapidly evaporate, even her damp, clumped hair becoming dry and fluffy again, Elysia instantly regained her confidence:
"Girls don’t catch colds that easily... Aaaah— Achoo!"
"..."
Elysia casually pulled a tissue from the nearby nightstand, blew her nose, and let out a satisfied little hum.
Then, as if struck by a sudden idea, she hefted the tissue box in her hands, her eyes darting around before landing on Michael with a sly glint.
"Aha! Michael!"
"What is it?"
"How did you use up the tissues so fast!!!"
Michael turned back with a helpless expression. In the dim light, the first thing he saw was the perfectly full box of tissues in Elysia’s hands.
"You call this using them up fast?"
The answer was obvious, but Elysia stuck to her guns, even resorting to playing dumb, her voice still thick and nasal:
"Hmph! Don’t think I don’t know! This looks like a full box of tissues, but it’s not the sa one I left here before my shower! This is a new box!"
"..."
Seeing Michael remain unmoved, without even a hint of wanting to argue back, Elysia pouted, finding no fun in it, and placed the tissue box gently back on the nightstand.
Seeing her attempt at playful accusation fall flat, Michael felt like teasing her, but as the words ca to his lips, he sohow found himself playing along, shaking his head:
"Ah, yes, yes! You’re right! I’m amazing! I used up a whole box of tissues in one go!"
"..."
This ti, it was Elysia’s turn to be speechless.
"What’s wrong? Your turn."
"You’re terrible at playing along. No! You’re just doing this to annoy !"
Truthfully, when he first t Elysia, it was easy to be caught off guard by her enthusiasm and constant teasing. But for Michael, who had known her for over a decade, while her antics weren’t exactly commonplace or sothing he could ignore completely, countering playfully and leaving her montarily flustered wasn’t difficult.
After all, they knew each other far too well.
Elysia finally understood this too. The thought that her future ’offensives’ might be ineffective against Michael made her puff out her cheeks in dissatisfaction. She picked up her stool, dragged it away from Michael to the other side of the balcony, and sat down.
"Pfft... Hahaha!"
Seeing her sulking, Michael couldn’t help but chuckle, which evidently made Elysia even more flustered and annoyed.
When Michael picked up his stool, shuffled sideways like a crab with his legs bowed around it, and plopped down beside her, she just kept her head turned away, punctuated by little huffs.
The result was that her puffed-out cheek was perfectly exposed to Michael’s mischievous hands.
Michael raised his index finger and gently poked her rounded cheek. The elastic skin dimpled, bounced back with a slight quiver, and then, as if truly punctured, rapidly deflated.
"Achoo!"
Looks like she really did catch a chill earlier.
Michael chuckled while chiding her, "You’re a grown woman now, how co you still catch colds so easily, just like back then?"
During the first six years they wandered the world, the biggest headache, without a doubt, was getting sick.
They could sleep under bridges huddled in blankets, get by on relief food distributed by city halls for the holess, or occasionally ’borrow’ from the rich to help the poor and ensure their survival. Besides, the first three things Michael learned to conjure during their travels were bread, water, and shipping containers.
But getting dical treatnt was different. Minor things solvable with over-the-counter dicine were fine, but if it got serious, like a high fever needing an IV drip at a hospital, things got complicated. The United Governnt had no records of them; simply put, they were undocunted.
Getting hospital treatnt was an insurmountable hurdle, not to ntion they weren’t sure back then if the unique nature of their bodies would be discovered during dical examinations.
After all, they had left on a whim without thinking things through. Looking back, if they hadn’t left so hastily, if they’d returned to the orphanage and waited for Celia to take their identification docunts to the Vostok City Hall the next day to register them, their subsequent journey would likely have been much easier.
This lack of docuntation almost prevented them from joining the Fire Moth later on. Fortunately, the recruiter at the ti was Ato, who recognized Elysia instantly thanks to her conspicuous pink hair.
Anyway, back then, catching a cold was a major hassle. Michael’s constitution was sowhat better, but Elysia was just like a child her age—catching a cold every few days, running a fever constantly. Unable to get IV treatnt, she could only tough it out.
As she herself might put it: "Beautiful girls are naturally delicate like flowers and need to be cherished!"
So, who was it just now saying ’beautiful girls don’t catch colds easily’?
Michael rembered one ti vividly. It was early May, practically early sumr, yet Elysia sohow ca down with a high fever. Michael wrapped her in two thick quilts until she looked like a caterpillar, but her teeth still wouldn’t stop chattering from the cold.
"But we don’t have to worry about that anymore."
Michael murmured softly, looking at her cheeks, bathed silver by the moonlight.
"Hm?"
"Give your hand."
Elysia turned her head, puzzled. Though her pique hadn’t entirely vanished, she obediently extended her hand towards Michael.
She seed to have gained a little weight recently. Her wrist was soft and rounded, blending seamlessly into her forearm, smooth and pale in the watery moonlight. Michael finally understood the descriptions of perfectly smooth, rounded arms he’d heard before.
He felt a chuckle rising and was tempted to say, "Elysia, you’ve gained weight," but managed to suppress it with considerable effort.
Not that Elysia would hold onto such well-intentioned teasing; she’d likely forget it by morning. In a way, this banter was part of how they maintained their connection.
But too much of anything is bad. Endless teasing, even if ant kindly, would eventually beco tireso, wouldn’t it?
Even Elysia herself, who seed to adore teasing others, always knew where to draw the line. Apart from Mobius, no one really seed to get genuinely annoyed by her because of it.
As for Mobius... well, that was a different situation entirely.
"Hey! What are you... Achoo... thinking about? Spill it!"
Seeing Michael just staring blankly at her hand, Elysia was a bit confused.
Michael rubbed his temples hard, as if trying to shove the flood of mories—gushing forth uncontrollably like lting glaciers—back into the depths of his mind.
He stayed like that for a mont, then looked up, took a deep breath, and gently took Elysia’s hand.
The next mont... nothing seed to happen.
"Eh? What happened?"
Elysia tilted her head. She didn’t feel any obvious change in her body, except... maybe her voice sounded a little clearer?
Michael shrugged. "Just a little application of the Authority of Death. Still have a runny nose?"
"Hm?"
Elysia sniffled. Two words: perfectly clear.
She had definitely caught a chill just monts ago. The used tissue was still sitting in the trash can, and the slight ache in her chest from the violent vibrations of sneezing hadn’t completely faded.
But at least... her nose wasn’t running anymore. Just like that, the cold seed to be gone.
"Hehe!"
She suddenly let out a soft chuckle, then teased, "Speaking of which, Michael, what do you think the previous Herrschers would say if they knew you were using their Authorities like this?"
"What could they possibly say?" Michael rolled his eyes.
"’They’re nothing but dust scattered in the past. Even if they wanted to protest, they couldn’t make a sound, right? No, they probably can’t even see how their powers are being used.’"
"’Oh, don’t be so literal! Just imagine it—a whole crowd of Herrschers surrounding my dear Michael, grilling him one by one: ’Well? How exactly have you been using our powers?’ And then my dear Michael, lips trembling, face blushing red, totally speechless... Just picturing it gets all excited!’"
"You just enjoy the thought of being embarrassed, don’t you..."
"’But speaking of which... not all the Herrschers are dead, right?’"
"’Hm? You an the Eighth Herrscher? [Translator Note: Herrscher of Sentience] During the recent turmoil, she used the Tenth Herrscher [Translator Note: Herrscher of Dominance] to regain so of her power and manipulated all the negative consciousness in The Deep to try and overwhelm Aponia. The result was a complete wipeout.’"
"’I wasn’t talking about her!’ Elysia tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and asked softly, ’I ant... Seele.’"
"’Her...’"
Michael’s voice dropped suddenly, mingling with the cold, damp sea breeze, creating a disorienting sense, like ti itself had montarily warped.
Elysia felt a pang of regret. Maybe... she really shouldn’t have brought her up. In fact, for the past two years, no one dared ntion Seele’s na in front of Michael. Even i, known for her occasional lack of emotional tact, had never tried to reclaim the Abyss Flower from him.
But she hadn’t ntioned Seele just to stir things up...
Pushing aside her thoughts, she quietly studied Michael’s expression in the dim light.
But aside from that montary drop in his voice, she couldn’t see any other sign of distress.
Michael just pouted dismissively and complained without rcy, "’She’s probably having too much fun in the Sea of Quanta to even think about coming back. A while ago, I tried contacting her through the Stigmata, asking her to keep an eye out for the Mu Continent Bubble Universe’s location. Before I could even finish speaking, she just cut off the connection unilaterally. Gave absolutely no face.’"
"Pfft!"
Elysia covered her mouth, stifling a laugh as she defended Seele. "Well, she finally gained real freedom, didn’t she? It’s normal if she doesn’t want to co back right away. Besides, she inherited the other personality, and she’s around that rebellious age. But don’t let her fool you, deep down she probably still misses us quite a bit."
"’Think about those six years we spent wandering. We never went back to Vostok to see everyone at the orphanage or Mother Celia, but that didn’t an we didn’t miss them...’"
The conversation trailed off there.
Elysia pressed her lips into a thin line, saying no more.
What good did missing them do?
Reason and emotion are like two parallel lines, charting the course of life from left and right. Every person’s life journey is a process of struggling with the conflict between the two.
You desperately want to do sothing, but find countless reasons to deny it. You desperately want to see soone, but always hesitate before even starting the search. Sotis, you miss soone terribly, yet the thought of even looking for them doesn’t cross your mind.
People rarely live exactly according to their heart’s desires.
In a way, this is a good thing. It prevents people from acting on every single impulse, rational or irrational.
But sotis, the roles reverse, and this tendency becos a form of self-avoidance.
And so, regret is born. If they had returned to Vostok just once before joining the Fire Moth, they might have seen Mother Celia again, undoubtedly much older, at the orphanage.
But because of that single decision, separated by only a few months, seeing her again beca an impossibility.
Although the record systems had completely collapsed, making it impossible to check for a death certificate for ’Celia from the orphanage in Vostok’s Town 51,’ even assuming she survived that disaster, she wouldn’t have been young. After years of displacent and wandering, the hope of her still being alive was slim...
And even if she had survived until now—setting aside all likelihood and simply assuming she was alive—they probably wouldn’t have the chance to et her again anyway.
Death isn’t the only thing that can separate people forever. The idea that ’as long as you’re alive, you’ll surely et again soday’ is just a trope from fiction, an artistically polished sentint.
Even in a normal world with incredibly convenient communication, a simple goodbye between two people could turn out to be their last. How much more so in a world where order has collapsed?
"Sigh..."
Elysia sighed softly. She had intended to gently probe Michael’s state of mind, but had inadvertently plunged herself into lancholy.
Perhaps, in a world like this, hoping for a truly carefree, completely happy day was simply an impossible dream, wasn’t it?
Still, looking at Michael, she couldn’t discern any overt emotion on his face.
The feeling he gave off... how to put it... it wasn’t dismissiveness. It wasn’t that he hadn’t heard or understood what Elysia was saying. He clearly understood the emotions she was conveying, but his only response seed to be a simple acknowledgent, like saying ’Understood.’
Beyond that, he simply stared motionlessly at the night sky.
"Ahem!"
Elysia cleared her throat, trying to shake off the heavy feeling, and shifted to a completely different topic:
"Speaking of which, when I saw Sakura today, she still seed a bit down. Didn’t you tell her about... that?"
"’Hm? About what?’"
"’That the Twelfth Herrscher might not manifest in Rin anymore.’"
"’Mm...’"
Michael paused for a few seconds before replying, "’It’s only a possibility. I don’t want to give her false hope.’"
"’Oh!’"
As the one who brought it up, Elysia simply ended the topic with a soft ’Oh.’ Clearly, she understood Michael’s reasoning perfectly; she had only raised it to change the subject and lighten the mood.
But Michael, as if afraid she hadn’t understood, elaborated anyway, "Besides, it’s not necessarily easy news for Rin or Sakura either. Look at Captain Hiko. Ever since she found out she used up over twenty doses of serum during that month she was bedridden... even though her health is clearly suffering, her drinking has only gotten worse."
After he said this, a long silence fell between them.
Silence often ans there’s nothing left to say, or nothing one wants to say.
For these two, more often than not, words weren’t necessary.
But this ti, there truly was nothing left to say.
Logically, there were still countless things they could share, things they wanted to share with each other—an seemingly endless supply. But right now, the desire and the need to voice them had vanished.
"Er... what about Kevin? i ntioned sothing about inspecting the Arican Branch, but she didn’t let Kevin co vacation with us on his own... Are we sure she’ll be safe?" Elysia awkwardly changed the subject again.
"’Don’t worry, my duplicate is with her.’"
"’Duplicate?’"
"’Mhm. Using the Authority of Dominance, and so other things... it’s hard to explain clearly. Basically, yes, a duplicate.’"
"’Oh, okay... Say, why didn’t i take Kevin with her? It was the sa before the Ninth Honkai Eruption.’"
"’Probably because... even if she can’t enjoy this kind of happiness herself, she still wants the person she loves to have the chance. From our perspective, maybe taking Kevin along for the inspection would be better—even if it’s difficult, they’d face it together. But from i’s perspective, she probably doesn’t want Kevin getting tangled up in potentially dark affairs.’"
As his words faded, silence once again enveloped everything in the night, broken only by the tireless rhythm of the waves rising and falling.
Michael kept gazing up at the sky. Elysia followed his line of sight. Thick clouds drifted across the night, obscuring most of the moon, let alone any stars.
She felt a warmth on her shoulder and parted her lips slightly. This was the first ti Michael had put his arm around her so proactively.
Following his lead, she rested her head on his shoulder, then looked up again, gazing at the sky with him.
The cold wind blew the clouds away from the island. They looked dense and hard, like putty, molded into various shapes.
An endless stream of clouds blew towards the distant horizon. No matter how many drifted away, more surged to take their place, as if determined to seal away tonight’s starlight and moonlight—all light—cutting it off from the heavens beyond.
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