See You Soon

“What's wrong?” Sonia asked, slightly nervous. “Nothing. I was just thinking... once I get my memories back, does that mean the me of this very moment will have been killed by the me of the past?” “Why the sudden urge for philosophical contemplation right now?” Her nerves wound tight, Sonia felt a flare of irritation. Denzel suddenly asked, “Are you afraid?” Yaxiu considered it, and to everyone's surprise, he actually nodded. “Maybe I am.” “For example,” Yaxiu looked at Sonia, “didn't you say our real relationship might not actually be lovers? But right now, I genuinely see you as my lover.” “Or, to put it even more directly—leaving zero room for ambiguity and opening my heart completely: the current me likes you.” Sonia froze. “But if after we leave the wooden cabin, our memories tell us we weren't like that at all, doesn't that mean the me who likes you right now was killed by the me from before?” “Thinking about it that way,” Yaxiu sighed, “memories are truly a terrifying power.” “That's nothing more than escapism, though.” Everyone was taken aback. The speaker was Diya, who had only just woken from her faint. Usually timid and shy, she expressed her view with profound resolve: “The past doesn't cease to exist just because you refuse to face it. On the contrary, it's precisely because you carry your past that you become who you are today. Living is itself a process of killing oneself—knowledge kills foolishness, reality kills naivety, silence kills sound. Escapism is meaningless, because who we are right now is the fruit of our past.” “To achieve our goals, killing ourselves is inevitable. Even if we start over, fate is a harsh, narrow corridor; what we once cast aside, we will ultimately have to cast aside again.” Yaxiu blinked as he listened. “You make a lot of sense...” “No.” Sonia looked at Diya, then at Yaxiu. “If letting go of the past makes me a better person, then I'd rather cast it aside. Compared to repeating the same mistakes, I'd rather believe everything can begin anew.” Yaxiu paused slightly, then realized Sonia was referencing what he'd said earlier during their banter—*Let's go—let's get back together, repeat past mistakes, and torture each other.* He couldn't help letting out a laugh. “Who do you want to start over with?” Sonia bared her teeth at him. “None of your business!” Just then, Denzel placed a hand over Yaxiu's hand on the doorknob. “So, is everyone mentally prepared?” Not to be outdone, Sonia pressed her hand atop Denzel's. “Already prepared for a breakup.” Diya placed her hand over Sonia's. “I... we are ready too.” “In that case...” Yaxiu said, “Knight, lover, sister, mistress... see you soon.” The overburdened doorknob turned without delay, unable to wait to usher this batch of visitors out. The cabin door opened. Meeting their eyes was the timeless, unchanging reverse golden rain. As they stepped out of the cabin, the glow of the reverse golden rain was reflected in their pupils. Their memory palaces were illuminated alongside it, and the darkness shrouding the cabin dissipated like smoke. The countless factors that formed their personalities, souls, intellect, thought patterns, and codes of conduct were thoroughly awakened. Everyone's eyes went wide. Wider and wider. ...... ... Inside the cabin. With Denzel's departure, the phantom of the Empress, who had returned the memories, dissolved into nothingness. Yet the other three phantoms seemed to linger in the warmth of the cabin, showing no haste to make their exit. “I think what Diya said just now was wonderful—as expected of me.” The Witch walked up behind the Watcher and smiled. “Whatever ought to be cast aside had best be abandoned early. Running from the past is pointless; under the design of greater fate, everything will only repeat the same mistakes... Watcher, there's still time to change the plan, you know.” The Watcher ignored the Witch, so she skipped over and sat down beside the Sword Princess, trying to recruit an ally. “Sword Princess, what do you think?” “On the contrary, I think Sonia was right,” the Sword Princess said coolly. “As long as one can become better, casting aside the past isn't out of the question. I believe we have already exerted enough ‘interference.’ Watcher, from here on, we should adopt a more cautious intervention strategy.” The Witch blinked in surprise. “But I remember you used to be the one most opposed to the plan—” “Which only proves I've already killed who I used to be.” The Sword Princess kept her eyes closed. “Aren't you jealous, though?” “What would I be jealous of?” “The one who deserves to start over—shouldn't it be you, having weathered so much agony?” The Witch leaned in close to the Sword Princess's ear, her eighteen-part chorus of voices slithering like a slick tongue, plucking at cords of inner chaos. “If it were you, you'd surely do far better than her...” “You could regain everything you were never able to have before—honor, the spotlight, thunderous applause, envious gazes...” “You would tread a star-lit avenue paved with flowers, rather than a bloody dead-end forged from mountains of corpses and seas of blood. You would have countless admirers who revere and yearn for you, rather than endless avengers who despise and hate you. You could live a peaceful life like an ordinary swordsmanship girl, instead of becoming a—” “You think I resent everything I've lived through?” The Sword Princess seized the Witch's wrist. “No. I don't resent it in the least. Mountains of corpses and seas of blood feel familiar and dear; exterminating avengers is just recreation to spice up my life; and 'peaceful,' 'ordinary,' and 'society' are the top three nouns I hate most.” “I savor every feast fate prepares for me. It is precisely because I absorbed enough nourishment that I grew so strong.” “I have no need to make up for regrets or dwell on remorse like some weakling.” The Witch stared into the Sword Princess's eyes. “You dodged my question—aren't you jealous of Sonia Servir?” “What do I have to envy her for?” The Sword Princess's expression didn't waver. “Though seeing her act so childishly gets on my nerves, at least she's grown up normally.” The Witch stared intently at the Sword Princess, the corners of her lips curling into a subtle curve as profound malice welled in her turbid pupils. The Sword Princess, who feared neither heaven nor earth, felt a flicker of tension in this moment, her hand slowly drifting toward the hilt of her sword— “Never mind.” The Witch swiftly moved away from the Sword Princess and looked at the Watcher. “Watcher, what do you think? Rather than letting the ‘present’ slowly grow, wouldn't it be better to let the ‘past’ step onto the stage personally?” “Hmm...” the Watcher said leisurely. “I hear your suggestion.” “Hey!” The Sword Princess sprang to her feet. “Don't tell me you want to give up halfway?” “Of course I won't give up halfway.” The Watcher shook his head. “Then what do you mean?” the Witch asked. “Follow what the Sword Princess said and reduce interference, or do as I said and step onto the stage directly?” “What do I mean?” The Watcher lightly tapped his fingers on the table. “What Yaxiu means is what I mean.” “The choice I made that day has been deeply etched into my soul, warped my perception, and shaped my mind.” “My personality, my resolve, and my memories all exist solely to carry out this will.” “You ask what I mean?” The Watcher cast a cold glance over them. “Do you phantoms, who have nothing left but lingering yearnings, think you are worthy of questioning my decision?”