(Crowley’s Monologue)
Crowley:
People always like to split the world into two.
What can be written into formulas is called “science”;
What cannot be written into formulas is called a “miracle.”
The laughable thing is — you never asked:
Who decides a formula’s boundaries?
Times change, words change.
Those who explained the world used to wear priestly robes;
Now they wear white coats.
But what you worshipped was never “truth,”
only the power to explain.
And today that scepter is held by those who sit on thrones piled with gold, looking down on everyone.
Humans think they are choosing.
Love and hate, loyalty and betrayal, sacrifice and flight…
Each time it’s like tossing a coin.
For you, that is a chance.
But at Ψ???, there is never a chance.
Ψ??? does not make decisions for you.
Ψ??? merely casts a net beneath your feet —
a gentle shake,
And you convince yourself you are walking.
Where you go,
You can, of course, choose:
to pull each other closer,
or to push each other farther.
But you will never know:
When you think you have taken one step,
Ψ??? has already split the road into countless threads.
Each of you lives on a different path,
regrets on different paths,
believes in different paths,
Give yourself different paths.
You call these forks “fate.”
Ψ??? calls these forks “insight.”
Crueller still — these roads are not straight.
Some paths loop back, using echoes from the future to rewrite the footprints of the past.
So you think you “suddenly understand,”
You think you have “finally seen clearly,”
You think that is growth.
In truth, it is merely the result of one line
cutting through darkness,
leaving a shadow in another line.
So you begin to pray, obey, frenzy, and devote yourselves.
Not because someone forces you.
But because you need a reason
to believe you still have a choice.
Keep choosing.
Tighten the net, or loosen it.
Every time you pull,
you let Ψ??? see a different world.
And I —
I only watch from the side.
Watching you think you can escape the net,
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
only to weave it denser with your own hands.
(Annie’s perspective — First Awakening)
Where am I?
“Thirsty… Brother, where are you?”
Before my hand even reached the cup’s rim, the blue cup seemed to be tugged by invisible strings and jumped into my palm.
“What’s happening?!”
I screamed and snatched my hand back. The cup hit the floor with a sharp .
Only then did I notice — a faint golden halo streamed down my fingers.
The airtight door slid open, and someone came in. She wore a nurse’s uniform.
She walked toward me. Wait… what’s behind her? Why is she dragging so many layered shadows behind her?
“Don’t come near me! Don’t hurt me, please!” I shouted, backing away.
“Brother… where are you?”
I grabbed the pillow behind me and hurled it at the approaching woman. In the instant she dodged, a dark-red aura shimmered about her. That dark red was murky and intermittent, like dying embers.
The nurse recoiled in alarm, calling into the corridor: “Quick, get Dr. Irene Zhang! The patient has awakened and is extremely agitated!”
I crawled to the corner. The light streaming through the window had changed. It was no longer the warm, soft white I remembered; it was wrapped in a thin golden film that stung my eyes. I instinctively squinted, curling in the corner as an odd, low whimper rose in my throat.
My mind was in a scramble. Before… sunlight was white, wasn’t it? It used to make me feel warm. Why now does it make me feel… a burning kind of satisfaction?
I don’t know how long passed before someone else approached and a woman called my name: “Annie, your brother Karl brought you here. Don’t worry, I’m Irene Zhang. I’ve been monitoring and treating your condition.”
I looked at her as she came near. In that blinding gold light, I saw a dark-red aura around her body. When the golden light passed through her, the dark red resisted it and looked painfully bright. She put a stuffed toy in my hand — Echo Clay, the companion from my childhood.
Everything went black; my consciousness snapped. In my last flicker, I thought I saw my brother.
(Third-person Perspective — Karl and Dr. Irene Zhang)
“Irene Zhang, Doctor — how is Annie?” Karl panted, his voice tight with anxiety. “…”
“Don’t worry, she’s fine; she needs rest. As you can see, her color is good now.” Irene said.
Karl looked at his sleeping sister. The bluish-purple of her lips had returned to a nearly normal pink, and… there seemed to be a faint gold sheen. Perhaps he’d been away too long — it must be an illusion.
Karl held Annie’s hand. It no longer felt ice-cold and bony but warm and comforting — as if he were holding a bundle of light rather than flesh.
He carefully rolled up Annie’s sleeve to check how the wound on her wrist was healing.
Her wrist was smooth as ever; there was no scar.
Karl looked up in puzzlement: “Dr. Zhang, how did my sister’s wound heal so fast? There’s not even a scar.”
“Oh… that was just the biological treatment’s state-of-the-art suture.” Irene’s eyes flickered. “Still — let her rest; I’ll notify you if she wakes.”
Karl didn’t press. He pressed Annie’s hand to his face to feel the warmth of blood and kin. He rose and kissed her forehead gently, eyes full of tenderness. Irene watched quietly; when she saw the complex emotions in Karl’s look, she thought, “He’s in love with Annie? Then perhaps he would do anything for her.”
(Annie’s Perspective — Second Awakening)
When I woke again, my eyes had adjusted to the pervasive golden light. It no longer stung; instead, it gave me an inexplicable sense of intimacy, as though calling to something inside me. I felt a stirring flow within my body, urging me to approach the light and devour more of it. A voice whispered: " It has been lonely for too long.
“Annie, you’re awake?”
The woman called Irene drew close. She looked in her forties; the golden sunlight passed through her and brought out that same repulsive dark-red aura.
“You’re Irene…?” I tried to recall the last fragments of memory.
“I’m Dr. Irene Zhang. I’m glad you remember your name.” She was affable and began to tell me what had happened over the past half month.
“My brother came and then left?” I asked, feeling forlorn.
“Yes, he did. Don’t worry, Annie; when your condition stabilizes, he’ll come again. I can tell he cares for you.” Irene said.
Thinking of my brother, I lowered my head.
“It seems Annie’s feelings for Karl are more than sibling affection.” There was an unhidden fervor in Irene’s voice.
I lifted my head and looked at her. In that instant, her eyes looked like black holes without pupils, unfathomable. I turned my gaze away.
“How do you feel? Apart from seeing the gold light, any other discomfort?” she asked.
“My body feels fine… only, something happened just now.” I hesitated and told her the absurd thing I’d experienced.
“What happened?” Irene’s voice tightened with an excited edge.
“I woke up thirsty and the cup… the cup flew into my hand.”
“You mean the cup moved by itself?” Irene asked.
“Yes.”
“Maybe it’s a hallucination?”
“I don’t know…”
“Try again.” Irene pointed to another cup on the table. “Look at it.”
“I’ll try.” I lifted my hand and pointed at the cup. It didn’t budge. I tried again and still nothing. Frustration swelled in me.
“Relax, relax.” Irene was patient and encouraging. “Think about what you were thinking when you woke.”
“I was thinking of my brother. I miss him so much.” Memories of him taking me everywhere, helping me with homework, letting me stand on his narrow back to reach treats on the top shelf flickered through my head.
Those memories showed him with golden veins running through his body, like sunlight finally seeping into his dull red aura.
I smiled, and my hand twitched, pointing toward a chair.
Irene’s eyes widened. She saw the heavy chair by the door rise without any contact and glide to Annie’s bedside.
The chair landed on the carpet. I snapped out of the memory. Looking at the suddenly appeared chair at my bedside, a hollow panic rose. “What did I do?”
“You did very well, Annie.”
Irene stepped to the bed and stared at my eyes like she was looking at a rare treasure. “You are a Chimera of Atlantis.”
“Dr. Irene Zhang, how is Annie?”
“She’s in good condition, and she seems to possess some powers beyond human.”
“You mean telekinetic movement?”
“Yes, Mr. Drake. This demonstrates that the gold-based DNA structure enables her to manipulate a kind of oscillatory interaction similar to mechanical waves.”
“Continue the research. Administer the Atlantean ichor we gave Annie to other volunteers with the same condition and see if the effect replicates.”
“Yes, sir, I understand.”
Irene felt two gentle taps on the back of her right hand. A bottle of finely packaged red wine was handed to her.
“I know your mother likes Stardust wines. I ordered this from the black market in the Darwin Nebula.” The man said. Irene’s fingers paled.
“I’m grateful for everything you and your family have done,” Irene said, bowing her head.
“All right, go on with your research.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Drake.”
The door closed.
In the dark, Crowley’s voice rang again: he thought he was making a deal, but he was only helping me move the table — and the net began to grow.
(CH120end)
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