"So... how was my lecture?"
Warm, bright sunlight stread through the large windows into the classroom. Michael stood at the podium, nervously rubbing his hands, a hint of lancholy in his voice as he addressed the students.
Silence t his question. The young Valkyries exchanged glances, wondering why the headmistress had invited this general studies teacher to spend an entire class telling such a... strange story.
The concept of Honkai and the classification and naming of Honkai beasts were identical to the current world's, but the nas of people and places were completely different.
Fu Hua covered her mouth, hesitant. Her theoretical knowledge was impeccable, which was precisely why she could discern that much of what Michael said about Honkai and Herrschers wasn't baseless.
But this only deepened her confusion – if the purpose of this lesson was to educate the Valkyries about Honkai, why not just lecture directly? Why go through the trouble of crafting a story?
And this story... felt familiar...
She was certain she hadn't experienced these events, yet the story resonated with her on so level...
However, from her perspective, the story was riddled with inconsistencies.
Like the description of the Herrscher cores...
And, if she rembered correctly, the First Herrscher who fought for humanity in his story seed to correspond with Walter Joyce, the First Herrscher they had learned about in history class. (Wait, who's that?!)
And Irkutsk, where the Second Herrscher was born, judging by the na, was likely located in the Siberian wilderness, corresponding with the Second Eruption decades ago. (Was there a major Honkai eruption decades ago?)
As for the later locations, Mu and Ruruye, while they didn't exist on current maps, Pohnpei Island was a real place in the South Pacific!
Was it a coincidence?
Or was he hinting at sothing...?
Fu Hua felt a sense of unease.
She glanced at Bronya to her right, who seed fascinated by the 680mm railgun Michael had described and was already doing calculations on a piece of paper...
Uh... her hair and eyes are also silver-grey, and she was born in Siberia. And the Vostok that Michael ntioned sounds like it's also there. Are they related? Fu Hua suddenly wondered.
As for i on her left... (Huh? i? i? Does that refer to i or i?)
i nibbled on her finger, probably thinking about what to add to her lunch bento.
Wait! i's bento!
Huh? Why do I feel both resistance and anticipation? Hua wondered.
Feeling Fu Hua's gaze, i blushed, turning away awkwardly.
On the other side was Kiana, fast asleep. Fu Hua watched, half-amused, half-exasperated, as i stacked books in front of Kiana, shielding the snoring girl from Michael's view.
Fu Hua turned back to the podium, feeling lost. These classmates... they were strangers, yet strangely familiar. But she felt like sothing was missing, so teachers, so classmates who should be here...
Michael, having received no response to his question, scratched his head awkwardly.
Seeing him like this, Fu Hua thought, "He's a teacher, but he doesn't seem much older than us... Being ignored like this, he must feel hurt and embarrassed..."
As she thought this, her hand instinctively rose.
Michael's eyes lit up, seeing a raised hand.
"Uh... Hua has volunteered. You can answer the question!"
"Ah!" Perhaps because she hadn't heard that na in a long ti, Hua paused, then let out a small sound. After a mont of hesitation, she stood up.
Her brow furrowed, her gaze drifting away, as if suppressing so deep sorrow.
When she finally looked at Michael, her expression was a complex mix of confusion, scrutiny, and sadness.
"Mr. Michael, I think your story was very good."
She gave her concise answer and was about to sit down.
Michael quickly stopped her, asking a crucial question:
"What was good about it?"
Hua's expression shifted from surprise to confusion, then to a strange sense of embarrassnt.
"Uh... I really liked the description of the Tower, like... those people really struggled to survive... Sir, if you wrote these stories as a novel, it would be a huge success – provided Schicksal allowed the dissemination of knowledge about Honkai..."
A fleeting smile appeared on Michael's face, his story having been praised.
But Hua continued, her tone shifting to critique, "But there are serious problems with the story's structure and pacing: why did you spend so little ti describing the Honkai eruption in Irkutsk, even less than the... capture of... Vill-V? And the Ruruye arc was three tis longer than the Irkutsk arc!"
Michael pursed his lips, wanting to retort, but remained silent.
Instead, Hua heard his voice in her mind:
[Those mories span fifty thousand years, or even longer. Many parts are like the photograph at the end of the story, only blurry outlines remain.
Even... even their faces, their voices, their smiles... everything is covered in dust. Only faint outlines remain.
That's why I can't help but tell these stories...
I'm truly afraid that if I lose even these outlines, how will I find my original self at the end of ti...?]
Hua looked around, wondering if she had imagined it.
She didn't dwell on it, assuming it was just fatigue from lack of sleep, and continued her critique, "And there are so strange inconsistencies. As far as I know, the current number of active Valkyries worldwide is around three thousand (What's a Valkyrie?!). Even B-rank Valkyries possess superhuman strength. And we have the Hyperion, a more advanced battleship than Fire Moth One. Yet, we still struggle against large-scale Honkai eruptions. How did Fire Moth combat the Honkai with only a hundred people?"
"Uh..." This stumped Michael. Hua watched as his expression shifted, finally settling on a sigh.
A sigh of both relief and helplessness.
He suddenly uttered a number: "MSA-209?"
Hua's eyes lost focus. Her lips parted slightly, then closed, then parted again.
"Excuse , Sir, what did you just say?"
All the surrounding sounds faded, becoming distant and muffled. Her eyes seed to lose all color. M—S—A—2—0—9, each letter and number individually familiar, yet...
Combined together, they ant... nothing.
She felt the code held imnse significance for her, but she couldn't find any trace of it in her mory.
But... even though she couldn't rember... why did her heart ache so much...?
Hua hunched over, her left hand gripping the desk, her right fist pressed against her chest, gasping for breath.
It felt like sothing had pierced her heart.
But why wasn't there any blood?
Why did she feel such pain, yet her eyes remained dry?
She collapsed to the floor...
Wait! The floor?! Where's my desk?!
She opened her eyes slightly. The bright sunlight, the tidy classroom, the unfamiliar classmates were gone.
The surface beneath her changed. Still cold, but less hard.
Clear and transparent, like water.
Her consciousness began to dissolve – dissolve, not dissipate, like an iceberg lting into the sea.
Then she began to fall – or rather, rise – from the earth's core to the surface, then into the ocean, into the clouds, until she reached the desolate white desert of the moon... Then, she began falling back to Earth.
Until she plunged back into the ocean... no, into water.
Yes, water. She felt herself enveloped in so kind of liquid.
"Was that... a dream?"
"Such a strange dream, people I knew and didn't know... like a glimpse of the future..."
"How long was I dreaming...?"
"Wait! Michael... Michael is..."
In her last mont of awareness, she saw a silver-haired man walking towards her on the water.
His low, ancient voice, echoing through the viscous liquid and bubbling air, reached her ears, a distorted whisper:
"Life is but a dream, a fleeting joy... Hua..."
"It's ti to wake up..."
"A new era... has begun..."
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