In the night, the fierce cold wind whipped up snowflakes, and beneath the thick, dense clouds, the stars were hidden from sight, with planes passing by dimly like cold crows.
Su Ming’an was thirty ters above the ground, where dozens of searchlights were cast high from the earth, leaving a white circle on the reflective surfaces of transparent skyscrapers. All the lights were focused on both figures slowly ascending the glass pillar.
It was eleven o’clock at midnight, just one hour before the New Year’s chis would ring. The barrage had already begun to congratulate each other with various word puzzle gas proliferating. The lively and warm atmosphere starkly contrasted against the precarious last monts of Kaius Tower.
"Teacher, Lin Guang is at his most vulnerable right now, sleeping in the Rehabilitation Pod. If we want to seize the core control system, we must usurp his administrator identity—that is, we must drive him out or kill him," Tretiya said.
"Kill him," Su Ming’an said without hesitation.
He was now mostly immobilized, his neck still bearing marks of strangulation, all of which were attributed to Lin Guang. He was completely oblivious to how the joke about him turned white-haired from morning to evening had spread through the barrage.
Tretiya looked up, and on the almost vertical glass surface, she saw a row of flashing red warning lights high above.
"I had previously infiltrated the building system, and Lin Guang is likely on the 107th floor. Teacher, if you can kill him, you will be the creator of a New Epoch," Tretiya said. "No... you already are."
"Killing him has nothing to do with achievents; he must die," Su Ming’an said.
Whether that person was Lin Guang or Lv Shu, there was no possibility of turning back from the path they had walked to this point.
"I will help you," Tretiya said.
She carried him, leaping towards higher floors, as if to burst through the silence of the night and pierce the pitch-black clouds.
...
...
"... No matter who takes over after , when this body’s life force ends, be convinced that I am already dead, there’s no need to rember .
"... I know, you want to ask why I would save humanity. There is no reason; one doesn’t need a reason to save a world.
"... I feel a bit tired..."
Lin Guang had a dream.
In his dream, he was pushing a wheelchair for an old man with white hair, who was speaking sentence by sentence. The sky was azure, the clouds were as soft as cotton candy, and the air was warm with the breath of spring—this was the ti just after the Century Catastrophe.
Ever since Lin Guang’s mory began to recover, he often had dreams of recalling the past.
"Spring has arrived..." The white-haired old man gazed at the garden, "Lin Guang, stay with until evening."
Lin Guang didn’t rember who the old man in his dream was, but he didn’t refuse, feeling a strong sense of kinship.
He pushed the old man through the garden, and flowers of all seasons blood in unison. White lilies were the most abundant, followed by roses. The wind mingled the fragrances and blew them toward the distant horizon.
Lin Guang felt at peace staying by the old man’s side.
Although he didn’t know where they were or who had planted the flowerbeds, the white lilies were lovely, and the butterflies were beautiful, like flas.
If it ant feeling relaxed, then let him live through this dream.
The old man was very frail, but his face was not very wrinkled, and his bloodshot eyes were still luminous, allowing one to see a bright halo buried within them.
"Whoosh—" The spring breeze passed, causing the flowers to dance freely in the air, and so unripe green leaves to grow swiftly, with flower buds loosely spread outward.
The old man stopped the wheelchair and sat quietly amidst the sea of flowers, a red rose falling upon his silver hair, like a drop of vivid blood in a sea of snow.
"Lin Guang, I’d like so sweets," the old man suddenly said.
"I’ll go make so for you." Even though he didn’t know who the old man was in this dream, Lin Guang instinctively replied.
Half an hour later, he ca out of the kitchen holding a strawberry cake.
The clock hands pointed to twelve noon, with ti in the dream passing exceptionally swiftly.
—The old man lay quietly against the wheelchair with his eyes closed, seemingly asleep. The sunny glow on the flowerbed sprawled his white hair with gold, montarily, the old man’s pale eyelashes seed to catch layers of falling yet to fall golden light.
"Click," Lin Guang set the strawberry cake on the table, almost soundlessly. He vaguely felt that he should not disturb the old man’s sleep, as if the old man had been tired throughout his life.
Yet, with just a slight noise, the old man was instantly startled awake, subconsciously sitting bolt upright, like a wary hedgehog, with a faint glint of brilliant white light flickering around him.
Only upon seeing that it was Lin Guang did the old man’s guard begin to slowly recede.
"Chocolate strawberry cake?" the old man glanced at the cake placed on the flower garden’s white table, "I don’t like chocolate."
Lin Guang looked puzzled, unaware that the old man disliked chocolate.
"Never mind, chocolate is actually quite nice too," the old man chuckled and reached out his hand—
"Clatter—!!"
A severe crashing sound exploded as Lin Guang hurried forward to support the old man who had suddenly coughed up blood, the table already overturned.
The old man’s blood was ice cold, as if it were unlted snow.
Lin Guang’s clothes were stained with this blood. A surge of intense grief inexplicably swelled up. Witnessing this scene, he suddenly found it so agonizing that he couldn’t breathe, as if the old man was on the verge of death, too weak to even sit.
He still didn’t rember who the old man was, but he felt that the man’s passing would cause him imnse sorrow, as if ripping away his entire soul.
"Why am I so sad?" Lin Guang asked.
The old man’s withered fingers clutched tightly at his sleeve.
"Because of ’love,’ I suppose. Can you understand?" the old man said softly.
"’Love,’" Lin Guang echoed, "’What is ’love’?"
The old man shook his head, not explaining the word.
A mont later, the old man sat up straight, his gray eyes shrouded in a misty haze.
Old Man: "After I’m gone, Lin Guang, you needn’t call yourself a Light Pursuer any longer; you are light itself."
Lin Guang: "What...?"
He didn’t understand. Call himself what?
Old Man: "The Dawn System has already activated, Tretiya and the others have been in for days now. You better go in soon as well. Thank you for accompanying through these final days.
Do not grieve. Death to is rely rest; I’ve wished for rest a long ti ago...
I do not love everyone in this world, so people waste their lives and strike at heroes, leading to the world falling to this state. But I love the vast majority among them. The wisdom of civilization, the brilliance of humanity... these are worth loving. And you are alive, the way you all pursue the future, you are more beautiful and powerful by a thousandfold than those covetous Ta Wei beings...
’To be born from death’—I hope you rember this phrase and protect this world from those High-Dinsional beings."
"And..." the old man hesitated for a mont but decided to add another sentence:
"There’s no need to tell people I died, nor to inform them that the ’’ afterward is just a bionic body. If a bionic body can fill everyone with confidence, if it keeps a perpetual light in their eyes—then I will forever be a spiritual statue that sustains their resolve."
Hearing this, a flood of mories suddenly inundated Lin Guang’s brain.
The mories revived in this mont, and he suddenly rembered—
The ti of this recollection was the first year following the end of the Century Catastrophe. Back then, the infighting among humans had not yet intensified; there wasn’t even a Freedom Faction or a Deity Faction.
That year, the old man was close to death from illness. This secluded garden villa was the place where he spent the old man’s last days.
The garden’s white lilies were cultivated from seeds he had grown, enabling them to flourish so well.
The butterflies in the garden were ones he had captured by hand. He liked red; when the butterflies took flight, they resembled flas ablaze.
The white round table for the cake was sothing he had picked up from the ruins a few days before. He and the old man had nded the broken legs of the table together, and the old man had even praised his talent for carpentry.
The old man liked black and white, so the kitchen cabinets were all black; it seed they also had a cat...
A few days earlier during festivities, he had written a blessing for the old man, and the old man had complinted him on his beautiful handwriting. Every day, he would brew tea for the old man, which was clear with green leaves swirling atop, like butterflies kissing petals, without a trace of scarlet in the color of the tea.
The old man said he was his best friend.
The old man’s na was...
"Don’t be sad, thank you for being with at the end," the old man said.
The old man’s expression grew more and more composed as his profound eyes looked up at the azure sky, as if trying to etch the beauty of this splendid spring day securely into his mory.
Such a splendid spring day, one he would no longer see.
"Spring will co," the old man muttered to himself.
"Spring?" Lin Guang repeated, "Has it co? Will it co?"
Why couldn’t he see spring, even after decades?
"Tick-tock," "Tick-tock," "Tick-tock," the wall clock sounded softly.
Four o’clock, five o’clock, six o’clock...
"Whoosh—" Suddenly, the night wind rose sharply, and the buds that had been on the verge of blooming exploded into life at that mont; a myriad of petals awoke from the stillness of death, stretching open lavishly to bask in the setting sun.
"Please don’t die, can you?" Lin Guang said.
He faintly felt he was about to lose again, and the pain of that loss clung to him like an incessant dampness.
The old man smiled for a mont, then suddenly whispered softly:
"Actually, I don’t want to die either..."
"I want to keep walking with you, I want to see the real spring day, I want to live for a very, very long ti, I want to drive out the enemy with my own hands..."
"But I don’t have a better ending anymore..."
"Tick-tock," "Tick-tock," "Tick-tock."
The clock’s ticking marked the evening hours: seven o’clock, eight o’clock, nine o’clock...
The leaves on the branches grew abundantly in an instant, and in the next mont, they changed from green to gold, dyed a brilliant golden hue—like gingko trees with golden butterflies, the color seed to tear through the veil of night as if heralding another sunrise.
Ten o’clock.
Eleven o’clock.
This day’s ti felt like a rehearsal from spring leaping to winter; Lin Guang hadn’t even managed to brush off the gingko leaves from the old man’s shoulder yet.
Ti in dreams raced by, ticking away swiftly; no one could stand forever in the river of ti.
"You..." Lin Guang said softly.
But no one responded.
"..." Lin Guang didn’t move.
Drooping silver hair swept the butterflies flying by; the old man’s head dropped powerlessly, the light in his eyes lingering until the very end, until his eyelids closed.
He departed beneath the gingko tree, the rose petals in his hair withering away.
Lin Guang remained still, in the position of brushing off the gingko leaves from the old man, frozen in place.
Until he completely lost his strength and collapsed next to the old man. At that mont, he suddenly experienced a piercing sorrow, his throat as dry as a desert.
This day was the first year of the Catastrophe, December 31st, midnight.
—Dawn System initiated, password "L–I–G–H–T". A world steps into a new century.
The deceased old man was nad "Yasa Acto".
He died after pouring the World Origin into the Dawn System, his life force exhausted, at the young age of twenty.
"ow".
A cat’s cry.
Lin Guang turned his head in a daze, his vision blurred, and through his tears he saw a small black cat approaching him.
This was the old man’s cat.
The black cat carried a piece of paper in its mouth, upon which were written a few small characters "To Lin Guang", a handwriting deeply familiar to him.
He slowly unfolded the paper.
[Lin Guang, after my death, don’t rush to your own.]
The first thing that caught his eye were these words.
Lin Guang stared blankly, setting down the cake knife he had just picked up.
With a "clang," he lost his strength and slumped to the ground.
[I have many things I wanted to tell you, but never had the chance, and in the end, you beca more and more paranoid. I want you to know that the developnt of the world to this state of despair was not your fault; it was mine.]
[In the past ti, I tried everything to the best of my ability, yet I did not welco a good ending. I know that after my death, you would surely choose suicide, and forcing you to live every second would be a tornt to you. I respect all your choices.]
[But before you et death, please arrange the preconditions for the Dawn System. The Dawn System is our only hope of protecting the world.]
[You are a good person; there is no need to feel guilty.]
[I have never disdained you; you are my dearest friend.]
[Finally, I will write a poem for you that I have seen.]
["I want to live forever."]
["I want to beco a star."]
["Let my love twinkle in the sky,"]
["Let my soul wander in the universe."]
["I want to live forever,"]
["I want to beco a great tree, so all people in the world can see my existence,"]
["and when night falls, let the moon light up..."]
[That’s it.]
[Although young and full of regrets, it’s the end.]
[Goodbye, good night.]
Lin Guang clenched the letter tightly.
In front of his eyes, the dazzling gingko danced like butterflies, beautiful as if in a dream, like a golden storm.
In the night, the gingko tree rustled as if a young man in a white coat lingered among the leaves, gazing at the world for a mont, smiling as he left.
...
Lin Guang suddenly awoke.
He gasped violently in the rehabilitation pod, his eyes moist, as the bright room lights stabbed into his eyes. This mory-filled dream had too great an impact on him.
He was about to stand up when he suddenly saw the figure of Lewis outside the room door.
Seeing Lewis, he felt a surge of happiness.
—Wait, why was Lewis here?
Before he could comprehend, he heard the intense roar of an explosion; in an instant, flas engulfed the room’s interior.
"Boom—!!!"
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