(Volume VIII: The Year of Finality)
"Speaking of which... Su, is there a specific term in psychology for this kind of phenomenon?"
"Hm?" Two spotlights overhead cast large circles of light on the floor, illuminating the two men.
Michael leaned back, the front legs of his chair lifting high off the ground, rocking back and forth with his movements.
He took a long time choosing his words. During this time, Su, with an almost absent-minded air, managed to complete observation tasks for seven Bubble Universes.
"When someone desperately hopes a bad outcome won't happen, even if the chance of it happening is just slightly above zero, it still seems highly likely to occur. But if someone has prepared almost everything they possibly can to counter that bad outcome before facing it, then even if the chance of it not happening is just slightly above zero, it's highly likely that it won't happen."
Su cracked his eyes open just a sliver, almost imperceptibly, then silently put down the "leaf" in his hand. His Adam's apple bobbed as he, too, took a moment to translate his thoughts into words:
"The first part is a classic manifestation of Murphy's Law, but the second part... Heh."
It was rare to hear such a cold chuckle from Su, and Michael couldn't help but lift the corner of his own mouth slightly.
"Perhaps we could call it a variation of Murphy's Law. After all, a 'bad outcome' is always relative. When we're unprepared for an outcome, its arrival is unwanted. Conversely, when we've prepared for everything, the absence of that expected outcome becomes the unwanted result."
"Ha."
Michael let out a short, quiet laugh.
"Are you suggesting I was actually looking forward to the Honkai turning Rin into the Twelfth Herrscher?"
If that were true, it would be far too ironic.
"Don't jump to such rigid conclusions, Michael."
Before Su could speak further, a soft voice drifted from the nearby darkness.
"It's difficult for anyone to truly know what they desire. Even when examining one's own heart in a specific moment, it's often like seeing flowers through fog or the moon's reflection on water – the true answer is elusive."
"Hmph..."
A pair of fair hands emerged from the shadows, adjusting the collars for both Michael and Su—though neither man was untidily dressed and their collars were rarely out of place.
A third spotlight switched on precisely then, casting Aponia's already snowy skin in an almost unnaturally pale light.
"Speaking of which, neither of you are with Rin. Won't there be problems?"
Michael and Aponia shook their heads almost simultaneously, though the latter wisely kept her lips sealed, ceding the explanation to Michael.
"I used the authority of Sentience to replicate a consciousness specifically tasked with monitoring Rin's mindscape. If a Herrscher appears, we'll still have enough reaction time. There's no need to stay by her side constantly... This might be the last time they have together, so let the sisters be alone."
Michael suspected Su already knew this. Perhaps Su was just casually diverting the conversation, or maybe he was skipping the unnecessary parts of the dialogue, jumping straight to the conclusion.
"That being said..."
Aponia pursed her lips, unable to resist speaking up after all:
"Even so, it's been two months since you and Mei decided on that plan. Has there really been almost no movement regarding Rin?"
She had wanted to add that creating a copy of one's own consciousness, sending it into the most dangerous place imaginable, only for it to likely face erasure even if the mission succeeded, seemed far too cruel.
But on reflection, she herself had done similar things countless times in The Deep to comfort those trapped in suffering.
Besides, if they were talking about cruelty, wasn't Rin bearing the cruelest mission of all?
True, the probability of her original consciousness dying wasn't 100%. The Herrscher might be killed before it could erase her, or it might not manifest in her at all. Or perhaps the Herrscher consciousness wouldn't just usurp the original consciousness but might tempt Rin towards corruption herself.
If any of those possibilities occurred, given their preparations, Rin's original consciousness surviving largely intact wouldn't be too difficult.
But what were the chances of those possibilities actually happening? Low enough that Michael hadn't even mentioned them when initially explaining the plan.
After all, according to Murphy's Law, even if the probability of a bad outcome is extremely low, it's still highly likely to happen—let alone when the probability of the bad outcome was already extremely high.
Rather than offering false hope that would turn into deeper despair when shattered, it was better to present only despair from the start. That way, if they somehow grasped an unbelievable hope in the end, it would be cause for universal celebration.
However... knowing Michael as she did, Aponia had another theory—
Perhaps this was also what Michael himself sought.
Since he had pushed Rin into such a position, as the one who proposed the plan, he naturally had to bear an equivalent burden of guilt.
Since he couldn't immediately pay the price in kind, then let a fragment of his own consciousness perish alongside Rin.
Aponia remained calm on the surface, but countless thoughts flashed through her mind in an instant. She blinked, looking at Michael, knowing he might be thinking the same.
"There has been some movement," he said thoughtfully. Aponia paused for a moment before realizing he was answering her earlier question.
"Oh? I don't seem to have noticed."
"Because... the source of the movement isn't Rin."
Michael looked up, his gaze sweeping quickly across her face.
"Ah?"
It made sense. Once Aponia committed to a task, she threw herself into it wholeheartedly, paying less attention to other matters for the time being.
Su, however, seemed to understand more:
"Michael, do you think... the Honkai has already sensed our intentions, so it will no longer target Rin as the vessel for the Twelfth Herrscher?"
"Yes."
Tap, tap, tap—
Michael's index finger tapped lightly on the armrest of his chair. He gave a wry smile.
"Over the past two months, there have been sporadic reports of unusual Honkai Energy readings around the world. They have a hint of the Tenth Herrscher about them, but the Honkai Energy intensity is nowhere near comparable. Mei dispatched warriors to investigate these anomalies. The locations showed no obvious 'common' characteristics, nor were there large-scale instigators of rebellion like with the Tenth Herrscher."
Su and Aponia fell silent instantly.
If they couldn't understand what Michael was implying at this point, they wouldn't be worthy of their abilities and responsibilities.
Aponia possessed the ability to perceive fate. Su, while unable to see the true future, could observe everything in other Bubble Universes and parallel worlds through the power of the Second Divine Key, Cosmic Juggernaut.
Naturally, they wouldn't miss the signs of the impending Twelfth Honkai Impact.
"But it's hard to say for sure. Anomalous Honkai Energy readings don't prove much. Their intensity is far weaker than a Herrscher's; we should be used to seeing such things by now. Maybe I'm just being overly sensitive."
Michael covered his forehead with his hand, suddenly contradicting himself—some kind of intuition told him the Honkai had temporarily put its knife away, sparing Rin, and the Twelfth Herrscher had manifested elsewhere. Yet, he couldn't accept this judgment based solely on intuition, nor could he deny it just because he didn't trust his gut feeling.
"Who can really say for sure about these things?... At least we can't rule out the possibility. The Twelfth Herrscher might have already been born somewhere else. Rin is safe. Heh, that makes sense, doesn't it? The Honkai isn't stupid. Our trap was so blatant; it would be incredibly foolish for It to still jump in."
Michael never expected that, this time, the outcome he didn't want would actually be avoided.
Logically, he should be happy, relieved—even though it wasn't 100% confirmed, Rin should, perhaps... at least very likely, no longer have to face the fate of sacrifice.
"[Please] try to relax, Michael. Isn't this the outcome you hoped for?"
Aponia's voice had a calming effect, but ultimately, she was just repeating the thoughts already swirling in Michael's head.
Besides, Michael didn't want to admit, nor did he feel, that this was entirely the outcome he wanted.
"You both should know what this means."
Rin and countless lives were already on two separate guillotines. Two sharp, angled blades were tied by a single rope, hanging over each platform.
If the blade on one side was lifted, it meant death for the other side.
Only one could survive.
"Michael..."
Aponia watched him with pity. She knew the man before her had grown much stronger and was no longer as fragile as he had been two years ago.
If this were the Michael from back then, he probably would have locked himself in his room again, indulging in escapism and self-pity.
But strength never meant the absence of pain.
Pain never disappears, like a bleeding wound cut by a knife. Without external intervention, a person can't simply not feel it.
A fragile person might cry out, suffer, and seek comfort over a tiny cut on their finger. A strong person, even with broken limbs, might at most grunt in pain and curse a couple of times.
He no longer wailed, no longer shed tears, no longer feared. But that wasn't because he didn't feel pain; it was because he could endure it all.
Or perhaps, he had simply become numb to the pain.
Yet, the more it was so, the more he needed pity—at least, that's what Aponia believed.
The stronger someone is, the higher their tolerance for pain, the more likely they are to ignore the wounds on their body. By the time they finally realize they are covered in scars, it's often too late to do anything.
"Hmph..."
But Michael seemed to anticipate her, speaking first:
"In this matter, either outcome is unacceptable to us. So, don't try to persuade me. I don't need it."
"Is that so..."
A strange smile played on Aponia's lips.
"I understand what you mean, Michael. Whether the final result is sacrificing Rin or sacrificing countless humans, both are heavy burdens we find hard to accept. However, such results also mean either Rin survives, or countless humans survive. From that perspective, isn't either ending acceptable in its own way?"
"Changing perspective doesn't change the result. That's also a form of escape, Aponia."
"..."
"That kind of escape saves nothing. The only thing it saves is oneself, and oneself is often the least in need of saving."
But even just relaxing for a moment... is better than constantly bracing yourself...
Aponia desperately wanted to say this, but seeing the renewed determination in Michael's eyes, she felt the words were unnecessary.
Suddenly, a strange sound came from the darkness surrounding the three of them. It sounded like someone walking through the shadows, parting the air, clothes rustling, yet strangely without footsteps.
"Prometheus, you're late."
Michael closed his eyes and quipped without turning around.
"Um..."
It sounded like Number 17 had something stuck in her throat. Anyone familiar with her could tell that the "Um" wasn't an affirmation or reply.
Quite the opposite, it was a jumble of words caught in her throat, unsure which to utter first.
Of course, in simpler terms, it was basically...
Speechlessness.
After a pause of two or three seconds, she finally managed to speak clearly:
"First, please call me Number 17. I do not wish to be associated with those idiots, Zero and Sixteen. I have reminded you of this one hundred and seventy-eight times.
"Second, slipping away from Dr. Mei unnoticed is extremely difficult. It wasn't easy for me to get here at all. You should show some consideration, even though I am an artificial intelligence."
She had received a communication from Michael not long ago, asking her to avoid Dr. Mei and come alone to attend an "important meeting."
Perhaps she should have ignored Michael and reported this to Mei. However, her programming didn't explicitly state how to handle such situations. After her final assessment, she still chose to attend.
After all, according to model analysis, the probability of Michael causing trouble for no reason was almost zero. Considering he even needed to avoid Mei, it must be something extremely important.
Listen first... if the situation seems wrong, report to Dr. Mei afterwards... That was likely Number 17's line of thinking.
"Alright, alright..."
Michael nodded quickly, then wiped all expression from his face.
Sadness, weight, determination, confusion, helplessness—all vanished.
At this moment, his face was like a perfectly smooth marble slate, incapable of holding any emotion.
"Since Prometheus is here, let's begin..."
"It's Number 17. Prometheus Number 17."
"Ahem! Before this meeting begins, I'd like to ask a favor. Could I trouble the three of you to keep everything I'm about to say strictly confidential—especially from Elysia. Please, I'm asking you."
...
"Quick, quick! Hua! Over here!"
"Uh..."
Even though two months had passed since that incident, Hua still wasn't quite used to Elysia's enthusiasm.
"This way, this way! There's more space here, better for showing you the next move!"
"Move?"
Hua's eyes lit up. She had temporarily digested the memories from the Eighth Divine Key. Although she still couldn't treat them as her own memories, relying on the instincts branded onto her body, she had already fully integrated the fist techniques she learned as a child.
Naturally, she couldn't help but be interested in others' techniques.
"Yeah, I spent ages figuring this one out myself!"
Elysia took Hua's hand, half-pulling, half-dragging her to a spacious area.
"Watch closely!"
She made a fist with her left hand, bending her elbow upwards, while her right hand stretched towards the ceiling, fingers spread, as if trying to pluck the chandelier.
"And then, let me think... it should go like this!"
Her waist twisted slightly, her right arm sliding down slowly and straight towards her left side. Once in position, she quickly twisted her left arm, ending with both arms diagonally parallel in front of her body.
"..."
Hua watched this so-called "move," stroking her chin as she fell into deep thought.
Also lost in thought were Kosma and Dystopia, huddled in a nearby corner, unsure whether to approach or retreat, only able to bend down and peek out.
Tap-tap-tap—
The sound of hurried footsteps came from behind. Both jumped, startled, feeling even more stuck.
"What are you doing?"
Kosma felt a hand pat his shoulder as Michael's voice sounded softly beside his ear.
Kosma was still hesitating on how to answer when Michael rested his chin on top of his head, pressing his entire body against Dystopia's back. He became even more speechless.
To make things worse, Dystopia's shoulders were shaking, clearly trying to suppress laughter, which only increased the physical contact between them.
In that moment, Kosma felt like he was in hell.
But the disaster wasn't over. Another weight settled on him as Su leaned over Michael's back, poking his head out too—though his eyes were still closed.
Aponia shook her head and led Prometheus over to the group, forming another line of observers peering out.
"Hm? What's wrong? Do I need to demonstrate again?"
Before Hua could refuse, and seemingly oblivious to the commotion in the corner, Elysia repeated the pose, this time much smoother and more fluid, shedding the awkwardness of the first attempt.
"Cool!"
Aponia's mouth twitched. As a MANTIS specializing in psychic perception, it was hard for her not to hear what the four people beside her were thinking...
Click, click—
Aponia, along with the four beside her, turned around in unison. They saw Prometheus Number 17 with her left hand clenched into a fist, elbow bent, and her right hand stretched straight up towards the ceiling.
Meeting everyone's gaze, she tilted her head in confusion.
"..."
"Oh my! Even Number 17 thinks this move is cool?"
Elysia turned around with a beaming smile, as if she had just noticed the sound.
"Ahem, we have things to do, we'll be going now!"
Kosma pushed Dystopia away and hurried off. Su turned around without hesitation and walked back. Aponia gave Elysia an apologetic smile, then took the still-confused Prometheus and Hua each by the hand and pulled them away.
"No... wait, why does everyone always abandon me in these situations?"
Michael clutched his chest, feeling a little hurt.
"Who said you're alone?"
Elysia gently took his hand.
"Oh, right! That name you asked me to think of last time, I've decided!"
"Hm?"
It took Michael a moment to connect the dots—
After discussions between him and Mei, the two thousand-plus new mass-produced MANTIS would still belong to Anti-Entropy's command structure, but the stronger fighters among the older MANTIS generation would form a separate elite squad.
Michael had given the naming rights for this squad to Elysia, who, unsurprisingly, had procrastinated for over a month.
And, equally unsurprisingly:
"I spent ages choosing! Let's call them—the Flame-Chasers!"
Michael pursed his lips and remained silent for a moment. Before he could say "Good—", Elysia lifted their joined hands high, then said like a pouting child:
"I want to see you do that!"
"Do what?"
Elysia silently took out her phone and turned on the video recording function.
And so, Michael knew he couldn't escape.
Resigned and embarrassed, Michael performed the pose. Amidst a peal of laughter, Elysia recorded his performance, then walked up, took his hand, and started walking towards the dorms.
"Hey, Elysia, we still have training today!"
"Eh? Really? But I remember there's a policy about combining vacation days, letting you use all your holidays at once. And you've barely rested at all this year, right? What's wrong with taking one day off!"
Michael swallowed hard and forced a smile:
"But, the others haven't rested either..."
Elysia suddenly stopped walking.
"Hm? What's wrong?"
Elysia sucked on her finger, pondering for a long time, then suddenly slapped her forehead:
"I've got it!"
"What?"
"Then we just need to make everyone take a day off!"