Kosma endured a dull ache, gasping for breath as he helped Dystopia up from the ground. His vision was a blur; he hadn't yet recovered from the exchange just now. Dystopia seemed to be in a similar state, clutching her forehead in agonizing pain.
"Are you okay?"
"Mm..."
Kosma felt a lingering fear. If his reaction had been a second slower, Dystopia would have...
The Tenth Herrscher had suddenly attacked Dystopia. If it hadn't been for Kosma's timely reaction, the consequences would have been unthinkable.
Failing to land the blow, the Tenth Herrscher didn't hesitate, immediately turning to flee. Even if Kosma wanted to give chase, he had to worry about Dystopia and the others. If there were other Tenth Herrschers lurking nearby, they would definitely launch a second attack once he left.
"That Tenth Herrscher..." Kosma adjusted his breathing, his heart rate gradually returning to normal. "Did you feel it?"
Dystopia also calmed down slightly. Her mental strength was much greater than Kosma's, so she wasn't suffering too much: "Feel what?"
"Just..."
Kosma was poor with words; it was hard to describe the feeling of that moment.
If he had to put it into words, it was like having his throat gripped—a sense of suffocation slowly rising in his heart.
And why did the Tenth Herrscher want to attack Dystopia?
...
Mobius worked until the middle of the night. Only after clarifying the precautions to Kevin did she return to her office. Even with a MANTIS's unique constitution, she was feeling drowsy.
She didn't even sit on her mobility device. Leaning against the base, which looked like it had grown several tentacles, Mobius yawned and pushed the door open. She numbly scanned the messy scene inside the room.
She was used to it.
Mobius took off her coat and threw herself onto the sofa. The sofa, which had grown hard from her sleeping on it, poked her back painfully, but she didn't care. She haphazardly pulled a blanket over herself and closed her eyes to sleep.
Today was truly too exhausting—so much so that even she couldn't control her wandering mind from thinking about things that were fundamentally impossible.
Better shift her focus.
Speaking of which, Griseo was left in the care of Klein and the others today. She wondered if they took good care of her. She hoped it wasn't Griseo taking care of Nuwa and Fuxi.
Blanca state was getting worse. Perhaps she should see a psychiatrist...
Research on consciousness transfer was progressing slowly. Spasy seemed to have come to talk to her about it before...
Under Mobius relentless efforts, she finally entered a light sleep. For the past six months, her days and nights had been reversed and her schedule chaotic. Most of the time, "sleeping" just meant closing her eyelids; she rarely had a good night's rest.
Perhaps she hated waking up to see scenes of devastation—it only made her feel fatigue and...
Loneliness.
In her dream, she hazily seemed to see a silhouette standing before the sofa. He wore a familiar, infuriatingly indifferent expression, looking down at her, then silently raising his head to scan the surroundings.
Her consciousness blurred, she murmured in her sleep: "Go die... you bastard..."
"..."
The figure remained unmoved, standing in place. He seemed to be surveying the room, which was so messy one might mistake it for a landfill. Even his face, usually devoid of human emotion, seemed to show a hint of shock at the state of the room.
Time ticked by, yet the figure remained motionless, like a cold statue.
Her thin lips parted as she uttered an unpleasant tone: "So annoying... get lost..."
He didn't know how many times he had heard Mobius say those words, from when she was a mature woman to now as she had become a little girl. And the silhouette, having experienced certain things, could faintly hear that the meaning behind her words didn't seem to be what they were on the surface.
He turned to leave, but at the moment he turned, the little girl sleeping on the sofa let out a whimper.
"..."
Turning back, all he saw was her usual stern frown. No matter who it was, they could only see her acerbic side.
Did he hear wrong?
...Right, she's in her thirties; how could she still be like a little girl.
Later, the silhouette scattered and vanished like flying ash within Mobius dream.
The morning light spilled onto Mobius rosy face. Her brow twitched slightly, and she slowly opened her eyes.
It seemed she had finally fallen asleep yesterday—a long-awaited rest.
"Eh?"
Wait, sunlight? She remembered she hadn't opened the curtains for months.
Mobius looked up, and a look of surprise immediately climbed onto her face.
The originally messy room had been tidied up completely. The dirty floor and walls had been wiped so clean they could serve as mirrors. The trash on the desk and in the corners had vanished. The mess of dirty clothes was stacked neatly not far away. Her files and computer were arranged orderly on the office desk, and the damp blanket on her body had been replaced with a clean, fresh cotton one.
The drawn curtains allowed the bright sunlight to sweep away the gloom inside the room. Mobius looked up blankly at this strangely clean room.
Thump...
Her heart suddenly skipped a beat, like a spark falling into a haystack.
Could it be—
Mobius stood up abruptly. She didn't even grab her mobility device as she moved to walk out. However, her sleeve brushed against the side table by the sofa, knocking down a piece of paper.
Confused, she leaned down to pick up the note.
"Doctor, breakfast is on the desk. Don't eat instant food anymore; it's bad for your health."
"..."
It was Klein's handwriting. Mobius left all matters, big and small, to Klein, so she had seen Klein's signatures on documents and handwritten reports hundreds, if not thousands, of times.
So it was Klein who did it?
Of course.
Mobius gave a self-mocking smile. She looked up at the garment hanging on the wall. She knew the fragility of humanity better than anyone; she resisted the coming of death, so such childish thoughts shouldn't stay in her mind for even a second.
...
"MEI."
Kevin walked into the room. His face, which seemed cast in steel, also bore traces of fatigue. Logically, he needed to rest for a period after the surgery, but the current situation brooked no delay. He, Fire Moth... and humanity had no time to rest.
"Sorry, Kevin. The plan needs your help." The long-haired woman bit down on a hair tie, pulling her hair into a ponytail. Putting on her glasses made her look even more clean and efficient, her face carrying a calm, unhurried composure. "But you don't need to worry. I've already found a suitable candidate."
"A suitable candidate?"
Only in front of MEI did Kevin show a different expression. He was slightly worried: "You said last time that you would do it yourself..."
"That was a strategy of last resort, as the current situation didn't allow me to find an adapter. Fortunately, there has been a shift in the plan."
"When do we start?"
"In two days. We move to P-21."
A smile rose on Mei face, yet her eyes were as deep and inscrutable as an ancient well.