Welcome to Rewind World Game-Chapter 1585: Finale · Across the Sea Arc [50] · "Who Killed the Robin (4)
"Once there was a young man named Su Youcheng, who, alongside his friends, pursued justice and chivalry for their ideals."
"At that time, the world was controlled by a ruthless and cruel royal, the noble class indulged in luxurious excesses, and the power users arbitrarily oppressed ordinary people. Society was extremely unjust, and people lived in distress."
"In the face of tyranny, Su Youcheng and his friends banded together, constantly losing members and saying goodbyes, using life and love to build a High Tower. After paying a nearly complete human cost, including his best friends, they finally slew the royal."
"As the remaining survivor, Su Youcheng, burdened with the will and pain of all his companions, chose self-exile, embarking on a journey of wandering."
"A group of pioneers fighting for light within the abyss, continuously using life to build a High Tower. And the last survivor is also scarred."
"Where is this story from?" As Su Ming’an listened to Shi Ying tell the story, he carved the stone.
(A story circulating in Luowasha, about the deity whom Huan Jiala pledged loyalty to. Perhaps there’s an element of artistic embellishment.) Shi Ying gasped, clutching her wound.
"The story of the Fifth Thrones Starfire..." Su Ming’an mused: "Is it that all Saviors in the world ultimately face tragic endings?"
(Because you... loved the wrong things.) Shi Ying’s inner voice stumbled: (Falling in love with an undefined ideal, how can one receive the ultimate love in return? Actually, when the companions started dying, Starfire could have stopped. He had already achieved ample freedom and happiness, yet it was their pursuit that gradually led them to loss, to agony, and to become the High Tower...)
"Are you calling me greedy?"
(Heh... Grandma rarely misjudges people, you clearly look like a perfectionist.) Shi Ying’s eyes shifted: (Otherwise, why would you return?)
Su Ming’an looked at her in surprise, she had actually seen through the fact that he came from the future.
Suddenly he felt dizzy and supported his forehead.
The colors before his eyes turned into a flood, bizarrely swirling in his vision.
(Can’t hold on anymore? How long has it been since you last slept? Fortunately, it’s relatively safe here, no enemies can find us. Lie down and rest for a while.) Shi Ying said.
Su Ming’an wanted to retort. He had slept in Noel’s dreamscape, but it hardly counted as sleep, as it was even more exhausting than staying awake.
"Your... leg..." he tried to look at Shi Ying’s injury, but all he saw was the silent face of the pink-haired person.
(Sleep, sleep.) A pair of hands helped him.
Her hands, unlike Tian Ying’s cold ones, were warm, and she gently embraced him:
(Mistaking people means you’ve reached your limit. Rest for a while so you can save us better.)
Glow illuminated the surroundings.
Su Ming’an was surprised to see, in the light akin to fireflies, the girl’s legs gradually healing, restoring to smooth fairness.
(Secret techniques of the Nightingale Clan, quite amazing, right?) Shi Ying smiled, pointing at her throat: (We can sacrifice our voice to heal certain levels of injuries. Temporarily unable to sing or speak, but anyway, you can hear my inner voice.)
(Cough...!) Her face showed a hint of embarrassment: (Right! Don’t listen to any strange inner voices! I can’t control myself.)
Su Ming’an rubbed his eyes, barely able to see things clearly.
At such helpless moments, he could lie down.
The more one fears thinking of something, the more one inevitably does, and soon, Su Ming’an heard strange inner voices:
(He looks better lying down, not just physically attractive, but inexplicably appealing. Does this guy have some ability that increases charm?)
(White hair... His hair was black before, right? I remember when I first met him; it was purple. Does it actually change gradient?)
(He really looks good, suitable to befriend... Wait, stop thinking; he can hear everything!)
Shi Ying’s face continued to change, and Su Ming’an felt a bit awkward too, so he simply closed his eyes.
Once he closed his eyes, the inner voices only grew:
(After he closes his eyes, everything becomes quieter, like my little snow, a snow-white owl.)
(His white fluffy hair, makes you want to touch it... So pure white, maybe call him Xiao Shanzhu in the future?)
(How old is he this year? I used to look up to him, always feeling he was beyond reach. Only upon closer inspection did I realize he’s still a child. Much younger than me.)
(His eyelashes quivering...)
(Why is his face turning red? Even with closed eyes, he can hear my inner voice? No way! Ah! Help! Is it too late to roll on the ground awkwardly?)
Su Ming’an gradually fell into sleep.
His breathing became scorching, and everything in his dreams was bizarre.
Even asleep, he didn’t find complete calm.
In his dream, he saw a blood-red abyss, disappearing silhouettes, and himself stepping off a cliff, trapped in the river of Time, and the pitch-dark silent universe...
He felt like countless hands were binding his neck, his throat producing indistinct gasps, his consciousness like a torn tent filled with scorching wind.
Shadows slid past before him, clearly familiar profiles, yet reaching out was thick Void, dissipating petal by petal.
"Dad...?"
In his dream, he saw blurry silhouettes.
In a daze, he felt someone touching his head, like the hands of his parents from his childhood. They soothed him, making him feel fear was unnecessary.
"Ming’an will be fine, he’ll be fine soon..."
"Ming’an will defeat all the bad guys, don’t be afraid of hardship, drink these superhero recovery potions, Mom and Dad are waiting for you to wake up..."
"Ming’an is fearless, nothing can make you afraid..."
Su Ming’an, in a haze, saw two unfamiliar silhouettes... Unfamiliar? Unconsciously, he became strangers to those once so familiar outlines...
"But," he explained dimly, reaching out futilely in the dream:
"Dad, Mom, I can’t find a perfect solution..."
Some words can only be spoken in dreams, some pains can only be expressed in dreams. He felt himself sliding irresistibly down a valley with no response.
"I saw some comments, they said I shouldn’t even bother going back, just finish it already. They said if I fail, I’ll be the sinner of all humanity... But some encourage me, saying they believe in me..."
"I’m afraid of their trust, afraid of letting down those I know, afraid that despair awaits me at the end, afraid that the golden forest doesn’t exist, afraid the fox has run away, afraid everything is just delusion..."
"I don’t know if I’m right or wrong, my state seems to be getting worse... Facing the world’s crisis again and again, as if it never ends, resolving one, only for the next to be even more painful and insoluble... I can’t make it to the other side; I want to get them to the other side..."
"But, it just has to be me, only I can make these choices, only I can hold the Ark’s helm..."
"What should I do to achieve the best ending?"
"Dad, before you rushed out to save people... did you think so much... or did you just plunge ahead without thinking...?"
"So, should I... continue... not thinking...?"
The fire within the music still burned, unable to exhaust the deep-seated confused darkness pressing down, unable to consume the ache emerging from the bones, unable to burn away the soul floating between scorching and chilling void.
The world seemed to regress into blurred spots of light; no one responded to him, standing at the ocean’s lightless bed.
Suddenly, someone grabbed his hand gently.
A soft voice sounded beside him:
"The snow will stop, everything will turn into a spring breeze."
"You are already walking in spring, don’t be afraid; no matter what happens next, never doubt yourself."
"You need to be the most resolute person. If you feel afraid, imagine tomorrow... We’ll see a lot of blooming flowers, standing on a hill, looking over the spirits of the grass and trees enduring the long frost and snow, sprouting weak buds from the soil."
"Imagine... Roots sucking up moisture, frozen earth shattering into mud, insects quietly turning over in the dark, countless tender filaments breaking stubborn calyxes, butterflies fluttering..."
"I won’t advise you to give up everything, because I know, bringing me home, bringing them home, is something you can certainly accomplish."
The wind disrupted the breathing, suddenly he heard a "rustle" sound.
Like scraping, like a quiet sigh.
Sensation moved across his scalp, looking up through the blurry vision, he saw a mask carved with flowers, a wooden comb with a curved tailfeather.
——It was Shi Ying holding his hand, softly answering in his ear with a heartfelt voice.
His first reaction was to check the live broadcast room. Fortunately, with the time jump, the internal and external time flow rates are different, and the live broadcast room has automatically closed. His second reaction was to check if he had said anything strange just now, but he suddenly collided with her quiet eyes behind the mask.
Those weak words just now did not flow into the audience’s ears, it’s great.
(You can take me, take us home.) Those eyes gazed at him: (Because this is something you can surely do.)
She didn’t persuade him to give up; she just made him believe firmly.
Su Ming’an looked vaguely at the narrow space, buzzing sound in his ears: "There is no spring breeze here..."
Only dust.
Her eyes slightly opened and closed: (Then close your eyes, wait until you wake up, and you’ll see.)
(Before, I always thought, if I just died, it would be nice, those online trolls should all die, those who look down on me should all die. If given a red button, I would press it to commit suicide.)
(I can’t stand those bastards, and I can’t stand this world’s view of good and evil. It seems that as long as villains wash themselves clean, they can be forgiven by all, while heroes only slightly deviate and are scolded terribly. Hypocrisy, selfishness, arrogance, being pretentious, fantasizing... they put all kinds of labels on good people like you. It’s like you deserve to be condemned if you’re not a hundred percent perfect.)
(God’s altar is just a sacrificial altar.)
(And I am one who always lives in the mire; I’ve seen through the hypocrisy of those glamorous names. I just don’t want to forgive those bad guys, and I don’t want to blame those good ones, even if the flames of condemnation will burn my vocal cords, I will still sing the tunes I love.)
(So, I’m telling you—you are not wrong in any way.)
(Even if everyone says you’re wrong and says you should quickly finish this World Game, I will still say—you are not wrong.)
(Wanting everything to be better is arrogance, then so be it? You are not wrong.)
(—Under the shining sky, the clear blue day, does it really only deserve to walk on the broad and bright path?)
(You must have thought more than once about dying, wanting to rest thoroughly in death, wanting to die after ending it all, dying under the dawn, no longer struggling with pain...)
(But I’ve heard a phrase that you players often say...)
Her heartfelt voice was like feathers brushing his auricle:
([—Those who keep talking about death are not actually expecting death, but craving love.])
(You are craving love, Xiao Shanzhu.)
Su Ming’an’s pupils suddenly widened.
...It’s not expecting death.
But craving love?
She picked up a comb, as if to comb through the injustices of the world, the corners full of regrets, and all the weathered life filled with tears.
The wind blew through the breath, also disturbed the flame flickering in her eyes.
(Though my mother is a jerk, she still taught me how to comb my hair. This is our Nightingale Clan’s unique soothing sleep technique; you can sleep peacefully now.) She gazed at him:
(You are confused...I am the same...)
(We are both puzzled at the crossroads of destiny, not knowing which direction to go.)
(I’ve heard of your dilemma. You have two paths: one is to fly into the universe with endless lifespan, the other is to stay in your homeland and cut off your future. Your choices are far richer, far greater than mine. No matter what choice you make, you are ’noble’.)
(If it takes being perfect in every way to save this world—then let this world be destroyed! We are just humans, we must allow some imperfection.)
Her eyes were bright like flames, her gaze was unwavering.
"I want..." after a moment, Su Ming’an hoarsely spoke: "I want to be the Number One Player again, rather than a deity..."
"If I only have a hundred years..." he paused, as if swallowing a stone with blood.
"Then let it be a hundred years."
(Maybe you should have had thousands, tens of thousands of years...)
Shi Ying looked at him.
"Having the same lifespan as the companions is pretty good." Su Ming’an closed his eyes: "Maybe I really will have a chance to live for thousands or even tens of thousands of years, even eat everyone up... But now, I want to stay with them, I want to protect those smiles, I want to save their sadness."
"Oh God..." his voice seemed to come from a very far distance, and it was getting farther.
Can you allow me a moment of hesitation and weakness?
After the weakness, can you allow me to move toward the ideal outcome? No endless pain, no lasting pervasive sorrow...
Don’t want a long future.
Don’t want to drown in the ocean.
...
After Su Ming’an fell asleep, Shi Ying looked at his cheeks for a long time. Suddenly, she tapped her heart, sensing the bond with the white stone growing stronger.
After closing her eyes for a moment, she transformed into a stumbling nightingale, tried to move the small stones away, flowing blood, she struggled through the gaps, nearly breaking her wings.
(...White stone?) She saw a white stone rolling to her side.
...
Xiber quickly encountered a familiar person.
Kael Nashe pointed at her, arrogantly said: "Little Cultist, where have you been? The Mother Goddess is summoning us! Come with me!"
...Mother Goddess?
Xiber quickly realized that this place felt like Qiongdi, but not quite, there were black walls and familiar forests, yet with "Mother Goddess" and some people completely unrecognizable.
"This is still Luowasha, yet so similar to Qiongdi, why?" Xiber quickly thought of something: "Is this... ’fan fiction’?"
—Here is scripted in Luowasha, imitating Qiongdi as fan fiction.
Or rather, calling it "Qiongdi pilot point in Luowasha" is more appropriate.
A Mother Goddess created this place identical to Qiongdi, arranged many Qiongdi characters to appear, trying to see if it’s possible to replicate other civilizations’ stories in Luowasha.
After coming here, Xiber was automatically given the character setting of "Cici", to go with the clansmen to meet the Mother Goddess.
"This Mother Goddess just reading the original civilization wasn’t enough, she had to personally come to enjoy it?" Xiber frowned: "No, it shouldn’t be that simple... She must be trying to experiment with something; after all, many theories of Qiongdi are worth learning, along with its unique world system... Being called ’Mother Goddess’, She should be a First Level God, so She made this place, is She trying to find a way to break through the limitations of a First Level God...?"
She suddenly held her breath.
What’s above First Level God?
This seems to be an unsolved question.
She came to an altar, over a hundred clansmen were already kneeling here, above the altar was a deity’s phantom figure, brilliance radiating.
Radiant Mother God, Kritchens...
"Among you, someone is hiding a precious white stone." Kritchens’ voice was indifferent: "You are given one day to hand it over, or the whole tribe will be destroyed."
People were terrified, while Xiber was thoughtful.
Suddenly, she saw a black-and-white figure.
Wearing a sacrificial crown, draped in a black robe, stepping wooden clogs, a white-haired figure.
The moment she saw, tears involuntarily accumulated in her eyes; she opened her mouth, watching the youth walking toward the high platform.
"Mother Goddess, we will give you a satisfactory answer within the day." The Young Tribe Leader was neither humble nor overbearing, cupping his hands in response.
The Mother Goddess’ figure disappeared, and the Young Tribe Leader turned around.
Those heavenly sea-like eyes met Xiber’s deep-sea-like eyes.
...
