The rain beca heavier, with the sky as if cracked by countless fissures, cascading as a waterfall toward the earth.
"Zzt-zzt——"
Streaks of light like thunder flashed across the high-altitude glass platform, the crimson tubes twisted and tugged, and raindrops fell, flickering blood-red, resembling droplets of seeping blood.
Su Ming’an felt everything before his eyes was so fragile—the glass platform beneath his feet, the sword in his hand, and even... himself. They all seed like a small boat that could capsize at any mont in the pouring rain.
The strong wind enveloped the entire high altitude, the bullet rain even finer than the drizzle. By now, over a hundred units of the chanical Army had fallen before him, each with a sword wound on their chests, their internal energy sources completely destroyed by him.
Yet, an unending stream of chanical Army continued to surge towards him from the shattered windows, like a dark gray river.
Bullets grazed his cheek, strands of hair floated down, and a trail of blood slid down from the corner of his right eye, marking a vivid red at the tail.
"Crack."
A crisp sound ca from his right arm, likely a damage caused by swinging his sword too vigorously, and a sense of warm, wet touch spread from his shoulder, like blood. He could no longer rember how many wounds he had on his body; getting injured had beco a habit.
In the gray veils of rain, no one spoke, only the sounds of gunfire and sword strikes prevailed, but the oppressive, silence, heavy air seed to carry the reluctant indignation of millions from Ruined World.
... I don’t want to lose.
... I don’t want to bow down to the invaders.
... I don’t want to cede this world where they have lived for thousands, tens of thousands of years.
Su Ming’an could hardly hear anything but the rain pounding on the glass. In the chill, the only warmth ca from his blood; only when a part of his body bled could he feel heat. Beyond that, he felt nothing.
... Once he advanced to the Fifth Rank, the experience gained during this period must be considerable. He thought vaguely.
In his blurred hearing, he heard a "click-click" sound from the horizon, probably Mu’s team adjusting the signal of the Small Brow Signal Tower.
As he turned back to strike, he caught a glimpse of a white figure drifting across the edge of his vision—it was Beili Sier.
The chanical Army did not attack Beili Sier. Beili Sier stood in the far corner of the glass platform, his pupils dilated.
Suddenly, Beili Sier raised his head, looking at the deity clinging to the helicopter’s door in the sky.
The deity had been silent for a long ti, like a spectator trapped in a grand drama, silently witnessing the world’s endga. His expression was restrainedly indifferent; no excitent of near victory on his face, nor the previous anger. If to describe more precisely, his current state resembled that of an observer about to lay a flower on a grave.
Sadness was the only presence in the deity’s eyes.
The sadness for Su Ming’an, a person extrely similar to him. He watched Su Ming’an as if looking at the past and simultaneously foreseeing the future.
Beili Sier’s pupils trembled violently, caught between lucidity and madness. After a mont, he suddenly jerked his head back, roaring at the deity:
"Where have you hidden Yasa!!! God!!"
The deity looked down indifferently at him.
"It must be you who hid Yasa! Otherwise, on what grounds do you have the authority to use his body! On what grounds could you beco him midway! He has administrator rights, how could you invade his body! Give Yasa back to ! Give him back!!" Beili Sier’s white hair clung chaotically to his cheeks like lting snow. He reached out, his fingers clawed toward the sky as if in this way he could harm the deity far from him.
His pupils were bloodshot, his expression nearly ferocious:
"Give Yasa back to ! Give Yasa back to !!!"
"Why must you all persecute him! Why must you all target him!"
"Why can’t you let him live! Why can’t he live! He’s only nineteen, why!!"
Amid the drizzling rain, his voice jabbed out, its high pitch slightly furrowing the brows of the deity.
"Make him shut up."
The deity spoke coldly.
Several units of the chanical Army turned their heads, "Bang, bang" a few steps, and instantly subdued Beili Sier. They pinned him against the exterior wall of the building, the rough brick surface pressing against Beili Sier’s spine, a collision, and he spat out blood.
Beili Sier’s close combat ability was very weak; initially, even Cloning Ming could easily overpower him. Especially now that he had lost any sense of order and could only stretch out his claws to scratch at people.
"Cough, cough, cough..."
Blood fell with the coughing sounds, dripping onto the glass on the ground, spreading into a fresh red outline. The spot where Beili Sier stood was already stained with blue blood—all of it chopped out from the chanical Army by Su Ming’an’s sword.
Amid layers of chanical debris, Su Ming’an’s figure was nearly engulfed, and Beili Sier could no longer see his face clearly. His pupils began to lose focus, tears following his cheeks to the ground, his voice sounding like a wounded cat:
"Why... why do only I rember him. Why am I still the only one who loves him now..."
"Why..."
"Why such a good person, why can’t he co back..."
Tretiya and others... had already made new companions. And the billions of people in the Ruined World would not inquire whether today’s Acto was the Acto from the first year of the Catastrophe. Since there was a bionic body exactly alike in character, appearance, and voice, who else besides him would rember the real Acto day and night?
"I..."
Beili Sier hung his head and spoke no further, and the deity did not care about him at all.
"Clang!"
The blade pierced through the chest of a unit in the chanical Army, passing through the opponent’s core energy source, Su Ming’an staggered back a step, a "crack" sounding from his right ankle.
Losing warmth made his senses blur; hearing the sound of bone cracking, he rely tilted his body to the left a bit, without the strength to care further.
"I sowhat regret agreeing to Lin Guang not to kill you," the deity said. "Who could have thought that you would be so tenacious, dragging this out for so long."
He looked at the glass platform in the sea of blood, a scene that not even bloodshed could describe. chanical wreckage piled into little hills, blue blood thickly layered, only leaving a central circle around Su Ming’an unsoiled. Even the blade of the Sword of Yarman was full of tallic cracks; even gold-level weapons were nearly depleted of durability this night.
Such an intense chanical assault, according to the deity, should have long surpassed Su Ming’an’s limits, yet Su Ming’an had managed to exceed his own limits, even for so long.
"I still have tasks to handle, I can’t waste ti here," the deity said. "Although I value promises, I now have to make an exception. Lin Guang, after all... even if it’s just a body, he won’t say much."
Su Ming’an barely lifted his eyelids.
The deity stretched out his hand, aiming at him.
It seed as though a scorching wind blew between them; the next instant, a tidal wave-like force surged out from the deity’s hand!
Like an invisible Gale Bird, forming a line between heaven and earth, it instantly pierced through this trembling glass platform.
"Crack—"
Like a mirror suddenly shattered, the glass platform instantly lost the force supporting it, spider-web-like glass cracks spreading rapidly, imdiately shattering the glass platform into pieces.
Su Ming’an’s foot found empty air.
Broken glass, heaps of chanical debris, scattered tal fragnts... all fell with him from the 21st floor. His black hair whipped upwards with the violent wind, his ears filled with the roar of the storm, and in his eyes remained only the helicopter growing ever more distant.
Rain and cold wind filled his robe, shards of glass mixed with the rain struck him. The world was enveloped in the sound of thunder. A raindrop large as a bean burrowed into his eyes, blurring the tears and blood at the corner of his eye.
The deity was still at the helicopter’s hatch, looking in his direction.
"Goodbye," the deity said softly.
Su Ming’an coughed out blood, his form like a leaf fluttering in the wind and rain.
20th floor, 16th floor, 12th floor...
As he fell, it seed as though life itself was being brutally stripped away, his breath oppressively constricted, the wind filled his lungs and stopped his gasping. Crimson tubes followed closely, falling with him like a rain of blood.
His form seed about to be broken by the heavy rain.
This night’s decisive battle was full of traps, ambushes, chain sches... endless one after another, the absolute technological suppression between civilizations, even though he played his poor hand to its limits, he couldn’t avoid the current ending.
In every world, as the core identity of "Yasa Acto," he had done his utmost. Years of wars, prolonged emotional resonance, so many Rosebloods... He was already overloaded. He even had a vague recollection of what happened a few days before the instance, the mories seed extrely distant.
Live comnts crazily flashed across the screen, the text already blurred. Deep in the building, warm yellow light emanated from one window after another, casting light on Su Ming’an’s blood-stained body.
Vaguely, he heard a soft voice, like a flowing stream.
"...Can everyone hear ?"
Her crisp voice spread from every corner of the City-State. It also poured into his ears.
He heard it.
The girl’s voice, clear as mountain spring water, though trembling, was firm, and faintly, the sound of a white cat’s ow could be heard. These sounds, within the lancholic atmosphere of the City-State, were like the warm light of dawn. People lay on the ground, so groggily opening their eyes.
Her voice represented a hope for a breakthrough, representing Mu Team starting to break the collective emotional resonance, yet it couldn’t stop his fall.
Light converged and dispersed before his eyes, Su Ming’an took one more look at the helicopter, now just a small black dot, and closed his eyes.
The air began to get colder.
The temperature, already near zero, started to drop again, even the falling rain from the sky seed to be freezing.
12th floor, 8th floor, 4th floor...
"..."
"..."
The anticipated pain from hitting the ground did not occur.
Soone spoke next to his ear, in a low voice.
"Ka—dada."
A faint hardening noise ca.
Su Ming’an blinked, a streak of frost extended towards him from above, moving rapidly. Like a giant ice-blue snake, it gently grasped him.
In that instant, it almost felt like a Disney princess’s entrance. A boy with white hair and blue eyes skated across an ice bridge towards him, reached out, and grabbed Su Ming’an, who was just a few ters above the ground.
The boy’s body leaned forward, bent like a bow drawn tight, his face still streaked with hot tears, his eyes heavy like fog.
"I’m sorry," the boy said softly,
"Thinking about him dying alone in three dinsions... I just feel so suffocated. I simply can’t accept this truth."
"He was so close... just a little more and he would have seen the two-dinsional world he created... he was so close, just a little more and he could have stepped into the spring he longed for so much. Just a little more... I had to co save you, only you, only you can—no matter how much you scold or hate ."
Su Ming’an gazed at the boy before him.
"Beili..."
The boy’s index finger rested on his lips, his eyes almost despairingly pleading—
"Please."
"Call ’Little Beili’."
The helicopter in the sky noticed the activity here and ca closer, while Beili Sier still looked at Su Ming’an, his eyes full of pleading.
"..." Su Ming’an sighed, "Little Beili."
Beili Sier seed to smile then.
Su Ming’an couldn’t see; his vision was dark.
He heard the boy’s extrely gentle call, like a breeze passing by his ear:
"Yasa."
Sothing seed caught in Su Ming’an’s throat.
Coming heedless of life and death just to hear a familiar "Little Beili."
Emotionally resonating with both Acto and Beili Sier, Su Ming’an couldn’t be unaffected by these two. Hearing Beili Sier calling him Yasa, he felt Acto’s sadness, and Beili Sier’s extre loneliness.
It was as if, at this mont, he was suddenly split in two; one half belonged to a non-existent soul, the other to the person before him imploring his help.
Those who have been drenched in rain always think about giving others an umbrella; even if the rain is heavy, as long as no one else is wet, he has succeeded. Beili Sier’s expression at that mont, was like serving a deity who had died in a storm. Extrely sorrowful, yet extrely devout.
"Yasa, co this way, I’ll take you to get dicine,"
Beili Sier jumped down from the ice bridge and darted back into the building. Su Ming’an glanced back at the helicopter still relatively distant, and followed Beili Sier into the building.
Many people lay in the lobby, fallen into a deep sleep, their expressions peaceful, as though they had succumbed to the long resonance. Beili Sier flew past these people, pushed open the stairwell door, and went in.
"I’m... sorry,"
Beili Sier said ahead.
His steps light, pacing ahead of Su Ming’an, not like walking in a perilous building, but rather on an ordinary street, allowing his snow-white hair to float in the air behind him, while Su Ming’an followed, watching his fluttering robes gently rise and fall.
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