Category: My Cthulhu Girlfriend (gl)

Chapter 100: Fulfillment 

A new late autumn arrived.

Human society entered a period of uneasy respite. After months of constant vigilance, the immediate crisis had passed, the pollution receding, the monsters dying off, even without human intervention.

Humanity began to rebuild, to reallocate resources, to analyze the events, to honor its heroes.

An Yue received a special commendation, becoming a world-renowned investigator, but… the name of the girl in the white dress was no longer mentioned.

Rumors circulated online, in hushed whispers, everyone with a story to tell, yet the details vague, obscured, only knowing glances and cryptic hints.

About the girl in white… some said that on the day of the fiery meteor shower, her powers had vanished, and she had fallen amongst the monsters, perishing, her death concealed by the authorities to prevent panic.

Others said she was a divine emissary, and with the god’s return, she had ascended, returning to the heavens with her deity.

Still others claimed she was just a fabrication, a role played by a government investigator, a deception to maintain morale, a lie from the very beginning.

And after all the speculation and rumors, someone would always ask:

“So… are there really gods in this world?”

They would exchange glances, then nod in agreement:

“Yes, there must be.”

“With monsters, how could there not be gods?”

“There must be, otherwise, how could the monsters have disappeared?”

“The investigators have special abilities, those abilities must be gifts from the gods.”

But no one had seen a god. Ancient myths and legends resurfaced, the stories of gods rewritten, faith renewed.

And yet, at this very moment, a true god, a bouquet of tulips in her hand, walked along a sunlit street.

The god, Akhe, wore a beige trench coat and a long black dress, her expression gentle, the golden tulips in her hand like flickering candles, accentuating her pale skin and striking beauty.

Passersby stole glances at her, some even so captivated by her beauty that they almost bumped into each other. The god, however, was oblivious to their attention, her gaze fixed on the girl beside her, a soft warmth in her eyes.

The girl beside her, at first glance, seemed ordinary.

Her figure was slender, her clothes simple, a thick, brown cotton dress reaching her ankles, a white sweater clinging to her thin frame. Above her long, delicate neck, a pale, young face, its features refined, yet with a hint of aloofness.

She walked beside the beautiful god, her arm linked through Akhe’s, occasionally glancing at her, her amber eyes reflecting only Akhe’s breathtaking beauty.

They walked together, two figures strolling along a sunlit street on an autumn afternoon, seemingly unconcerned with the world around them.

They cared only about each other, a single glance, a single touch, more significant than anything else.

People passed by, their gazes filled with a curious awe, speculating about their relationship, but none could guess the truth. Lovers, perhaps, but were they truly just lovers?

No one knew that they held the fate of the world in their hands. No one knew the struggles, the sacrifices they had endured, for this world, for their love.

And now, finally, after a long and arduous journey, they walked side by side, under the warm autumn sun.

Akhe gently patted the girl’s hand:

“Are you tired? Let’s sit down for a while.”

The girl was, of course, Xiang Er, and she readily agreed, following Akhe to a bench beneath a shady camphor tree.

As soon as she sat down, Xiang Er, as if boneless, leaned against Akhe, her head resting on Akhe’s shoulder, her eyes closed, like a contented kitten.

It was a habit she had developed during their long confinement, a constant need to be close to Akhe, in every way possible.

It had been over two months since Akhe’s return, and this was their first outing, Xiang Er’s first time leaving the apartment.

For two months, Akhe had pampered her, preparing elaborate meals, giving her massages, helping her exercise, slowly nursing her back to health, the color returning to her cheeks, a spark of life reappearing in her eyes.

Now, aside from her pale skin, a consequence of avoiding sunlight, Xiang Er’s health was finally restored, and Akhe felt comfortable enough to take her out.

Xiang Er, watching the passersby, suddenly asked:

“Are there any more… monsters for you to fight?”

Akhe looked around:

“I’m not sure, but since I came back, I haven’t left your side, and An Yue hasn’t contacted me, so I assume… there’s no need for me.”

Xiang Er:

“Ah… so you’re not making any money now?”

Akhe was momentarily speechless, her beautiful eyes blinking, then she turned to Xiang Er, her voice playfully petulant:

“Are you disgusted with me now?”

Xiang Er:

“…You’re putting on an act again, in broad daylight.”

She pinched Akhe’s cheek, her grip surprisingly strong, and teased:

“What if I am?”

Akhe’s lips pursed, her eyelashes drooping dramatically, her voice exaggeratedly soft and vulnerable:

“Then… I’ll just have to go back to being a CEO and provide for you, I hope you don’t mind…”

Xiang Er, remembering her previous job, a nostalgic tone in her voice, said:

“A CEO… I liked that, a domineering CEO falling for me, it gave me something to look forward to at work.”

Akhe’s eyes narrowed, and she looked at Xiang Er, whose gaze was fixed on the bustling street, lost in thought.

The golden tulips illuminated Xiang Er’s face, her cheeks slightly puffed, a childlike longing in her eyes, the pain and sadness gone, replaced by a gentle warmth.

She must… still miss “Shen Yuhe.”

So, the next morning…

Xiang Er woke up, and not finding Akhe, her heart immediately sank. She got out of bed and, as soon as she stepped out of her room, the small eyeball wrapped its tentacles around her ankle.

The small eyeball chirped, rubbing against her leg.

Xiang Er couldn’t help but squat down, picking up the small eyeball and holding it close. It had hatched over a month ago, a new being, without the memories of its past self, but its affection for Xiang Er remained unchanged, its habits the same.

Xiang Er thought this was good, the small eyeball was still so young, it didn’t need the burden of those painful memories, the memories of her own breakdown, it should just be a carefree little creature.

Holding the small eyeball, Xiang Er walked towards the kitchen and almost bumped into Akhe. Akhe, her back to her, was carrying several plates of food, her tentacles carefully balancing them, and placed them on the table.

Xiang Er, relieved, couldn’t help but smile. Akhe, having set the table, turned and, without a word, kissed Xiang Er, a long, tender kiss.

“Good morning… after breakfast, I’m taking you somewhere.”

Xiang Er noticed, with surprise, that Akhe was wearing a business suit, the tailored trousers accentuating her long legs, giving her a charming, almost powerful aura.

Xiang Er wondered, was she trying to recreate her “CEO Shen” persona?

After breakfast, Xiang Er got into the passenger seat of Akhe’s new car, and as they drove, the route seemed increasingly familiar. Xiang Er, a premonition growing, turned to look at Akhe, who smiled mysteriously, her eyebrows raised playfully.

They passed many familiar landmarks, the subway station, the coffee shop, which was now even more popular, a long line of customers waiting outside.

The car stopped at the parking lot of the industrial park, and Akhe got out, smoothing her jacket, her hair cascading over her shoulders as she turned, her voice carrying an air of authority:

“Come.”

Xiang Er took her hand, and they entered the building, taking the elevator to a familiar floor.

It was where Xiang Er used to work.

They had taken this elevator together countless times, so many memories, so many unforgettable moments. But now, it was a different company, no familiar faces, even the cleaning lady was new, all traces of the past erased.

They walked down the hallway, and Xiang Er asked:

“I wonder… what happened to my old company?”

Akhe said:

“It went bankrupt, as far as I know, several of the executives were arrested for tax evasion. Do you remember Zhu Minmin? She’s a professional web novelist now, her latest novel is apparently called “Office Romance: The CEO Pursued Me 99 Times,” it’s a huge hit. Do you want to read it?”

Xiang Er, just hearing the title, could imagine what it was about, a mixture of amusement and embarrassment, and after a moment, she said:

“I’ll… ask her myself, it would be weird to read it without her permission.”

If she wanted to, Akhe could access any information in the world, but social etiquette still mattered, and Xiang Er wanted to get the author’s permission first.

Akhe led Xiang Er down the stairwell.

Xiang Er, suddenly feeling nervous, asked:

“Have I… never been to your company?”

Akhe nodded, glancing at her with a smile:

“Bringing the boss’s wife for a tour, it’s perfectly reasonable.”

Boss’s wife… Xiang Er blushed.

The company occupied the entire floor, its offices bright and clean, a modern, upscale environment, the employees energetic and efficient.

As soon as they stepped out of the stairwell, someone recognized Akhe, his eyes lighting up, and he immediately bowed deeply, his posture reverent, almost worshipful:

“CEO Shen! You’ve finally… finally returned… we haven’t seen you in over a year! But please rest assured, the company is running smoothly…”

Akhe nodded casually, offering a brief response, then led Xiang Er into the main lobby, and the entire company erupted!

Everyone stopped working, rushing towards them, bowing and scraping, some even kneeling, tears streaming down their faces, expressing their longing and admiration for “CEO Shen,” their voices choked with emotion, their gazes fervent, like devout followers finally seeing their deity…

And Akhe, standing amidst the crowd, calmly said:

“Meet your new boss, she’s my… partner, and she’ll soon be the company’s major shareholder. This company, including all of you, is my gift to her. Call her CEO Xiang.”

The employees, without a hint of dissent, immediately turned to Xiang Er, their voices raised in unison:

“Welcome, CEO Xiang!”

Xiang Er, mortified by this display of fervent devotion, quickly grabbed Akhe’s hand and tried to escape. But Akhe led her to an office, where she signed some documents, then had Xiang Er sign as well.

Xiang Er signed without even looking, then asked:

“What was that?”

Akhe:

“This company is yours now. Just like I said, it’s a gift for you, so you won’t…look down on me for not making any money. I’ll manage the company for you, you just have to enjoy the profits, how about that, CEO Xiang?”

Xiang Er was surprised, but she didn’t refuse, a smile playing on her lips:

“Alright, CEO Shen, if you don’t manage it well, I’ll punish you.”

The sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the flowers on the desk, Akhe’s profile, sharp and defined, a hint of her former, seductive “Shen Yuhe” persona, and Xiang Er, unable to resist, kissed her cheek.

“Punish me how?”

A tentacle snaked out from under the desk, and Akhe’s beautiful face, a playful smile on her lips, watched Xiang Er’s flustered reaction.

“You… don’t be ridiculous, we’re in the office…”

“Indeed, CEO Xiang, this is your company, I wouldn’t dare. But… you seem to be enjoying this, CEO Xiang.”

“I… I’m not… mm… hah…”

“CEO Xiang… Little Ears… I want to give you… everything.”

After a passionate interlude, Xiang Er, her clothes disheveled, lay in Akhe’s arms, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen, her eyes glistening, as she looked up at her lover.

Akhe’s dark eyes also shimmered, and she gently caressed Xiang Er’s cheek, her voice soft:

“I want to… share my abilities with you, but if I do, you’ll become like me, you won’t be human anymore, what do you… think?”

Xiang Er was surprised:

“Share your abilities?”

Akhe’s eyes held no hesitation:

“Yes, give you half of my power, so you can be like me, live for eons, travel the universe, even choose another planet to… reside on, become… a new god.”

Xiang Er’s eyes widened, her heart pounding. She had never considered this before, she had only wanted to be with Akhe, for this lifetime, she hadn’t imagined living beyond a human lifespan…

If she had still been with Shen Yuhe, she probably wouldn’t have agreed, she would have wanted a normal, human life with her lover.

But now, she was with Akhe.

Akhe had an endless lifespan… but she only had a few decades. Akhe would stay with her, until she died, but what then?

Akhe’s voice was soft:

“If you don’t agree, then… when you die, I’ll die with you.”

Xiang Er was shocked:

“But… I… what about Earth?”

Akhe’s dark eyes, deep as an abyss, stared into hers:

“Without you, I don’t care about Earth.”

Xiang Er exhaled:

“You truly are… a bad god.”

Akhe smiled gently:

“I am a bad god. But I’m a loved bad god, the luckiest bad god in the entire universe.”

In the end, Xiang Er decided to think about it. She had a lifetime to decide.

And before that, she would do everything she wanted to do with Akhe, savor this love, this feast of happiness!

After all, they had time, their youth still vibrant.

Their lives, nourished by love, they would live happily ever after, a long and beautiful life, the envy of all.

And now, it was just the beginning.

Chapter 99: The Battle

Akhe was truly back.

It took a long time for Xiang Er to fully accept this reality.

They were inseparable, their world reduced to the confines of the old apartment, lost in each other’s embrace, oblivious to everything else.

Every night, before going to sleep, Xiang Er would hold Akhe’s tentacle and ask, her voice filled with a lingering anxiety:

“You won’t… disappear again, will you?”

Akhe would gently caress her cheek with a tentacle, her voice soft and reassuring:

“No, I won’t leave again, you can sleep soundly.”

Sometimes, Xiang Er would wake up in the middle of the night, a sudden jolt, her hand clutching the tentacle, her voice filled with fear:

“Are you sure… there won’t be any more… battles with your kind?”

Akhe’s gaze, steady and unwavering, her tentacles gently enveloping Xiang Er, would reply:

“Yes, I’m sure.”

And Xiang Er would finally fall asleep, a deep, peaceful sleep, waking up to the sight of Akhe’s face.

Akhe would hold her close, her hand caressing Xiang Er’s cheek, her lips pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead:

“You’re awake? My Little Ears, did you sleep well?”

In those first moments of wakefulness, Xiang Er would feel like it was all a dream, a beautiful illusion, but… even if it was a dream, she would gladly remain lost within it.

Because, real or not, she never wanted to return to that world without Akhe.

She never wanted to lose Akhe again.

Akhe’s disappearance and return, of course, had raised many questions, the authorities eager to know what had happened, but no one dared disturb them in their old apartment.

The compound was now under heavy guard, a fortress protected by the nation’s most elite investigators, patrols every half hour.

An Yue was still their liaison, delivering food, flowers, and other necessities, always leaving promptly after dropping them off, as instructed by Akhe.

Akhe didn’t want anyone to intrude on their world, they just wanted to be together, to heal, to lick each other’s wounds, to make up for lost time.

It was several days later that Xiang Er finally noticed… that Akhe seemed to be injured.

She had never seen Akhe’s true form completely, but she remembered Akhe’s domain, the giant eyeball in the sky.

But now, one day, at Xiang Er’s insistence, Akhe reluctantly pulled her into her domain. Xiang Er looked up, but the sky above… was empty.

“Where’s your eye?”

Xiang Er imagined all sorts of horrific scenarios.

“I left it beyond the Milky Way, as a warning to any… outsiders, this is my territory now, no one else is allowed to interfere.”

Akhe’s voice was calm, her explanation prepared, but Xiang Er felt a sense of unease.

In the endless expanse of yellow sand and black rivers, Xiang Er didn’t know where Akhe’s true form was, where to even look. She called out to the empty sky:

“Really? Are you sure? Are you… injured? Are you hiding it from me because you don’t want me to worry?”

The eternally twilight sky remained empty, not a single cloud. Akhe didn’t answer.

Xiang Er understood. She squatted down, scooped up a handful of black slime, small eyeballs swirling within it.

She picked out a few and looked at them, but the eyeballs turned away, avoiding her gaze.

Xiang Er’s voice was low, but her words carried weight:

“So… how badly are you injured?”

The next instant, the scene shifted, and she was back in the real world, Akhe, in her human form, before her.

Akhe pulled her onto the sofa, embraced her, gently patting her back, and said:

“It’s not that bad, I just… almost lost, I wouldn’t have won without you.”

Akhe, her dark eyes filled with tenderness, looked at Xiang Er and told her everything.

Akhe had warned the other Evil God by the river, but it had been aggressive, approaching relentlessly, until Akhe had been forced to leave the planet, meeting It at the edge of the solar system. It had been hostile, unwilling to negotiate, its only intention to devour Akhe and absorb Its power.

“That’s how we survive, devouring each other is… common, but I thought… perhaps, like humans, we could resolve it peacefully, I suppose I was naive.”

Akhe sighed.

They had fought, a battle that spanned galaxies, a long and brutal fight, and Akhe, having lost the initial advantage, had almost been defeated.

In a dimension beyond human comprehension, Akhe and the other Evil God clashed, both sides suffering heavy losses, and Akhe had been losing.

But then…

Xiang Er had discovered the protective layer Akhe had left on her, and she had started frantically absorbing monsters.

And that protective layer, it was a part of Akhe’s true form, still connected to It, across light-years.

The energy absorbed by the protective layer was transferred to Akhe’s true form, a constant stream of power, fueling her fight.

“So… you won that battle for me.”

Akhe took Xiang Er’s hand, her lips pressing a gentle kiss against her skin, her eyes glistening, a proud smile on her lips.

Xiang Er, her heart pounding, finally found her voice:

“So you won? If I had known, I would have eaten more…”

Akhe’s grip tightened on Xiang Er’s hand, her voice urgent:

“You were already at your limit! I could feel it, through the slime, your body was failing, I was so worried!”

Xiang Er looked at her and smiled:

“I actually… helped? I thought it was all in my head… then why… why did your heart shatter?”

Akhe said:

“Because… my true form was… destroyed. This… this is a new body, constructed from the remaining fragments. My true form… is gone. If it weren’t for you, for the energy you provided, I might not have even been able to… create this new body…”

Xiang Er covered Akhe’s lips with her hand:

“Don’t… don’t say any more.”

She didn’t want to hear it.

Akhe’s lips, pressed against Xiang Er’s hand, didn’t move, her gaze fixed on Xiang Er’s, as if a thousand words remained unspoken.

The things she had glossed over, the near-death experience, the long and brutal battle, she had downplayed it all, not wanting to upset Xiang Er.

But she also knew, how could she not be upset?

Xiang Er’s tears fell onto Akhe’s lips, her voice soft:

“As long as… your soul remains, that’s enough.”

She understood now, she hadn’t fallen in love with the “Shen Yuhe” facade, nor with the Evil God Akhe, not with the tentacles or the slime. What she had loved, all along, was that complex, vibrant soul, the unseen, intangible, yet unique and captivating… soul.

They shared a tender kiss, devoid of lust, holding each other close on the sofa, their fingers playing with each other’s hair, their bodies. Akhe then said:

“But don’t worry, I’ve absorbed the… other one, it will take some time to… digest, but I’ll regain my full power eventually.”

Xiang Er asked:

“What abilities have you lost?”

Akhe frowned slightly, as if considering the question:

“How to put it… all my abilities have been… downgraded, for example, I can’t hear your thoughts anymore, unless you shout very loudly in your mind.”

Xiang Er hadn’t expected this, and she immediately thought a series of things, then, seeing Akhe’s unchanged expression, realized that it was true.

She pouted slightly:

“I don’t know… I used to think it was annoying that you could read my mind, but now I think it’s… inconvenient.”

Akhe gently nudged her nose with a finger, smiling:

“Weren’t you always complaining about your lack of privacy?”

Xiang Er leaned closer and kissed Akhe’s cheek, like a child savoring ice cream, a deliberate “mmm” sound:

“You’re still a jerk.”

Akhe laughed and returned the kiss:

“Okay, okay, I’m a jerk…”

After a while, Akhe went to the kitchen to prepare dinner, but neither of them wanting to be apart, even for the short distance between the living room and the kitchen, Xiang Er wrapped a tentacle around her waist, her arms around Akhe’s neck, her legs around Akhe’s waist, like a koala clinging to a tree, as they cooked together.

After dinner, Akhe opened the refrigerator to get some yogurt, and Xiang Er saw, inside, a glowing egg, radiating a soft light.

Xiang Er gasped:

“The small eyeball! It’s glowing! I knew it would be okay when you came back!”

Akhe’s eyes crinkled into smiling crescents:

“You know, it’s… a manifestation of my love for you, as long as I exist, it will always exist.”

Xiang Er, staring at the egg in the refrigerator, her eyes suddenly filling with tears, grabbed Akhe’s tentacle and wiped her eyes:

“It’s all your fault, it’s all your fault… I watched it… die in my arms, do you know how devastated I was…”

Dozens of black and red tentacles reached out, wiping away her tears, patting her back, massaging her shoulders, Akhe’s voice filled with sadness:

“I know, I’ve always known. Every moment after I left, I could feel it, all your pain… I’m sorry, Little Ears, I made you suffer.”

She sat down beside Xiang Er, her gaze sincere, and apologized.

Xiang Er looked at her, she knew it wasn’t really Akhe’s fault, but… she still felt a pang of hurt and resentment. Before, without Akhe, she had endured everything, but now, with Akhe, she couldn’t bear even the slightest discomfort, she felt like she was being childish.

But… she wanted to be childish, to be vulnerable in front of the one she loved, to feel the comfort and reassurance of being cherished and protected.

Xiang Er, pretending to still be angry, asked:

“Is that all? Just an apology?”

Akhe looked at her, seeing that she had stopped crying, her eyes darting around, and she understood, leaning closer, her voice soft:

“Then, my master, your loyal servant awaits your punishment.”

She knelt down and kissed Xiang Er’s foot.

Xiang Er instinctively pulled her foot away, but Akhe held her ankle, and she couldn’t escape, the tingling sensation on her skin, like ants crawling, impossible to ignore.

Akhe’s voice, soft and seductive, whispered:

“So… have you decided how to punish me, my dear master?”

Xiang Er:

“…”

This creature… after that battle, her flirting skills had leveled up! Had that even been a real battle?!

Chapter 98: Return

The wind roared in the helicopter as An Yue and the others rushed to Xiang Er, draping a blanket over her torn clothes, their gazes fixed on the scene below.

None of them had ever witnessed anything like this.

A swarm of grotesque monsters, like ants to their queen, surged towards a single, massive figure at the center.

And that massive figure, wielding countless thick, dark red tentacles, grabbed the monsters, one by one, and pulled them into its body, its movements smooth and effortless, a gruesome feast.

And the monsters, no matter how large, how ferocious, were helpless against the tentacles, their screams and wails echoing as they were lifted, devoured, absorbed into the black, monstrous form.

An Yue and the others watched in stunned silence, a new recruit, his voice filled with awe, asking:

“What… is that?”

An Yue was about to answer when Xiang Er, her gaze fixed on the window below, suddenly spoke, her voice soft:

“That’s the Evil God, Akhe.”

Her voice was clear, steady, yet strangely gentle, as if filled with a dreamy affection.

She looked down, her eyes clear, the frantic, manic look gone, not a trace remaining.

Within minutes, the monster army, led by several Class S+ monsters, had been completely devoured by the Evil God.

The ground below, now clean, the monsters gone, the fleeing humans stopping in confusion.

The helicopter descended, and Xiang Er, her excitement growing, fidgeted restlessly.

She looked at her reflection in the helicopter window, her face gaunt and pale, almost ghostly, and she touched her cheek, her voice urgent:

“Does anyone have any foundation? Lipstick, anything?”

But the helicopter was full of investigators, prepared for battle, not makeup, and they exchanged confused glances, shaking their heads.

Xiang Er, close to panic, looked at her reflection, then, with a sigh, she started patting her cheeks, biting her lips, trying to force some color into her face. She adjusted her clothes, the white dress torn and tattered, the blanket they had given her ugly and shapeless…

The helicopter landed on the roof of a shopping mall.

Beside the mall, a massive, dark tentacle monster, taller than the six-story building, stood silently. A tentacle gently reached out, carefully lifting the helicopter, like a toy, and placing it on the rooftop.

Several of the newer investigators jumped out.

A black tentacle, its movements gentle, extended towards the helicopter door, waiting.

Finally, An Yue helped Xiang Er out of the helicopter.

The tentacle, like a black and red carpet, lay before them. Xiang Er extended a pale foot and stepped onto it.

The tentacle trembled slightly, and Xiang Er’s body trembled as well, as she walked forward, step by step.

She was like a child learning to walk, her steps unsteady, yet determined, as she approached the only person, the only being, that mattered to her.

Her torn white dress fluttered in the wind, her long, neglected hair swirling around her, the wind, carrying the scent of time and space, of distant stars, and yet, her eyes saw only that one being.

That being, terrifying and monstrous to others, a source of madness and fear.

Yet to Xiang Er, the sweetest honey, the source of her greatest joy.

She stumbled forward.

And suddenly, a figure in a red dress appeared.

The woman in the red dress, without hesitation, ran towards her.

It was the form Akhe had crafted for her, for Xiang Er.

Akhe would never let Xiang Er come to her alone, she, too, would run, with all her might, towards Xiang Er!

Red dress and white dress, finally meeting.

Xiang Er’s throat tightened, her vision blurring, her mind blank, her arms reaching out, her unsteady legs almost giving way, yet still she reached…

And this time, her hands were caught, held firmly.

Those hands, delicate and smooth, slightly larger than hers, grasped hers, pulling her forward.

Xiang Er instinctively tried to steady herself, but she couldn’t, and she fell into a warm embrace.

It was so warm… warmer than her wildest dreams, softer… she sank into it, her eyes closing involuntarily, her hands held captive, her body relaxing, surrendering to the embrace…

“You… you’re back…”

Xiang Er felt like she was floating in a warm spring, or on a cloud of cotton candy.

A deep, magnetic voice, a cello’s resonance, the voice she had chased in her dreams, the most beautiful voice in the world, the voice that had been etched in her memory since their first encounter, replied:

“Yes, I’m back… I missed you so much, Little Ears, so much…”

Xiang Er closed her eyes, her face pressed against the woman’s chest, inhaling the familiar, yet also strangely unfamiliar, sweet fragrance.

Tears silently traced paths down her cheeks.

She sighed and said:

“You… jerk. I didn’t miss you at all.”

A deep chuckle rumbled in the woman’s chest, its vibrations echoing through Xiang Er’s body. A thick tentacle, from behind, gently caressed Xiang Er’s hair, a tender, loving touch.

Then, a soft kiss on her forehead.

Akhe, in her red dress, as if unable to contain herself, repeated over and over:

“I love you, I love you… I love you, Xiang Er, I love you.”

Xiang Er suddenly covered her forehead with her hand, turning her face away, muttering about wanting to leave:

“No… don’t touch me, I haven’t showered… I… I don’t look good…”

Two tentacles gently but firmly held her in place, and Akhe lifted her chin.

Xiang Er’s gaze met Akhe’s, her face flushing, her heart pounding, a wave of panic.

She gasped for air, her gaze fixed on Akhe’s eyes.

Those familiar, beautiful eyes, usually so serene and composed, were now filled with tears, a burning intensity in their depths, as if looking at a lost treasure, rediscovered.

Akhe looked at Xiang Er, tears streaming down her face, like pearls on her cheeks and chin, her voice hoarse with emotion:

“You’ve suffered…”

Xiang Er wanted to say no, but her voice betrayed her:

“It was… it was hard, without you… so hard.”

But then she smiled, her hand gently wiping away Akhe’s tears, her voice soft:

“Now that you’re back, it’s not hard anymore.”

Akhe’s body trembled, and Xiang Er, her hands cupping Akhe’s face, a fervent, almost reverent gesture…

Kissed her god.

Their lips met, their tongues intertwined, like thirsty fish finding solace in each other’s waters.

They kissed, passionately, until the sky darkened, until the end of time.

To avoid the wind, they took the helicopter back to the city.

Xiang Er clung to Akhe, her arms wrapped around a tentacle, refusing to let go, the other investigators in the helicopter watching them nervously, not daring to make a sound.

Only An Yue looked on with a satisfied smile, she knew, as long as they were together, the planet would be safe, this wasn’t just a relationship, it was a matter of global security!

An Yue tried to discuss the situation with Akhe, but after a few words, Akhe put a finger to her lips, silencing everyone.

Xiang Er had fallen asleep in Akhe’s arms.

Akhe, to make her more comfortable, had conjured several tentacles, forming a small nest around Xiang Er.

Xiang Er, who had been unable to sleep without medication, now, like a small kitten, curled up contentedly, her face pressed against a tentacle, her arm around Akhe’s, slept soundly.

Akhe looked down at her, her gaze lingering on Xiang Er’s thin face, as if looking at her own reflection.

The moment felt eternal, and on the Evil God’s monstrous face, a human expression, the look of someone willing to sacrifice everything for the one they loved.

Her gaze filled with a profound love, she watched over her sleeping lover, the world silent, nothing more important than the person in her arms.

She was a monster, feared and loathed by humans.

But her love was pure, undeniable.

Akhe, carrying the sleeping Xiang Er, returned to their old apartment, the place where it all began, their shared home, carefully built and nurtured.

This old apartment had witnessed so much, the creation of the human facade, the blossoming of their love, the shattering of their trust, their mutual destruction.

And tonight, they returned home.

Xiang Er was carried to her bed, and after a while, she was awakened by a gentle kiss.

Akhe’s lips, her tentacles, caressed her, a gentle, intimate touch, like a small animal nuzzling its beloved, an expression of affection, not lust.

“Mm…”

Xiang Er stirred, a muffled sound, she seemed to have caught a cold. The constant exposure to the wind in the helicopter, her previous manic state masking the symptoms, now catching up with her.

“Little Ears, wake up and have something to drink.”

Akhe’s voice was soft and gentle.

“Hmm?”

Xiang Er opened her eyes, a sudden wave of anxiety, her hand reaching out, touching Akhe’s face, as if in disbelief.

Akhe, a loving smile on her face, let her touch, her hand in Xiang Er’s. Xiang Er, after a moment, her voice hesitant, asked:

“I’m… dreaming again, aren’t I?”

So she had been… dreaming of her return…

Akhe’s smile vanished, as if her heart had been ripped out, a pain so intense it almost broke her.

Her voice trembling, she said:

“No, it’s not a dream, I’m back, Little Ears, I’m really back.”

She pressed her face into Xiang Er’s hand, turned on the light, even offered her tentacles, wanting to show Xiang Er, to prove to her…

This wasn’t a dream! None of this was a dream, and from now on, she wouldn’t have to dream anymore!

Xiang Er opened her eyes, her gaze slowly focusing, taking in the scene before her.

Akhe’s body, Akhe’s face, Akhe’s thin nightgown, and her tentacles, the tentacles she had once loathed, and then… loved.

Everything.

Real, tangible, undeniable.

After a long moment, Xiang Er finally realized:

“Ah… so it’s not a dream…”

She raised her arm, her hand gently caressing Akhe’s neck, her gaze lingering on her beautiful face.

She said:

“I had… a very long dream… in the dream, you said you were going to fight… another one like you, and you left me all alone, I was so lonely… I wasn’t that lonely before, it’s your fault, why did you stay with me? Why did you make me get used to you, then leave, it’s all your fault!”

She lightly punched Akhe’s neck with her trembling hand. Akhe didn’t flinch, just endured it, her eyes filled with pain.

Akhe wrapped her arms around Xiang Er’s waist, pulling her close.

She held her like a child, carried her to the living room, and sat down on the sofa, gently feeding her snow fungus soup with a small spoon.

After finishing the soup, neither of them wanting to let go, they lay down on the sofa, holding each other tightly, as if afraid that the other would disappear.

Akhe’s black and red tentacles wrapped around Xiang Er, gently caressing her skin.

Akhe held Xiang Er captive, and Xiang Er, in that embrace, felt a profound sense of peace and happiness.

Xiang Er’s body was entwined with Akhe’s, her chest pressed against the soft, yielding tentacles, her eyes gradually glazing over.

To distract herself, she asked, a sigh escaping her lips:

“So… when you went to fight… what… happened?”

Akhe’s tongue gently caressed Xiang Er’s earlobe, her voice low:

“It’s a long story… but it’s not the right time…”

A tentacle gently wrapped around Xiang Er’s waist, and Xiang Er shifted slightly, her arms tightening around Akhe’s neck:

“Then what is… the right… ah!”

A wave of intense pleasure washed over Xiang Er. She felt like she was losing her mind, only in this complete surrender, this total merging, could she truly feel…

That Akhe was really back.

And that they would never be apart again.

Chapter 97: Scorched Earth

That helicopter gradually became a beacon of hope for what remained of human society.

On blood-soaked battlefields, at the epicenter of monstrous outbreaks, no matter the location, no matter how powerful the enemy, as long as that mysterious helicopter appeared…

A miracle would follow.

A miracle, embodied by the girl in the white dress inside the helicopter.

She was so frail, her slender body seemingly about to collapse in the downdraft of the helicopter blades.

Yet, before the monsters, she was invincible. Wind, fire, lightning, even the unnatural distortions of space, all were useless against her.

The helicopter was protected by the most elite investigators, and even if it crashed, they would ensure the girl in white reached the monster.

And the monsters, no matter how they struggled, how they attacked, how ferocious they were… the moment they touched her…

They would vanish, like smoke, absorbed into her body.

Countless people had witnessed this, their SAN values plummeting as they trembled and knelt, their eyes wide, their voices raised in prayer.

She was the Evil God’s sole emissary on Earth!

The sole bearer of the god’s power!

Humanity’s last, best hope!

As the black slime swirled and pulsed on her pale skin, as the stars and the oceans trembled, as the dawn faded… only the girl in white remained.

Only the girl in white, risking her life, fighting for humanity’s survival!

Within a week, the girl in white, her power and her image, became known throughout the world, and the number of Class S and Class S+ monsters, the level of pollution, rapidly decreased.

Humanity had found hope! They composed songs in her honor, praising her, loving her, adoring her, blessing her, praying for her continued strength and power!

The girl in white, of course, was Xiang Er.

For an entire week, she had barely slept, having absorbed countless powerful monsters, destroyed dozens of state-of-the-art helicopters, and even lost a few of the investigators protecting her.

But… her heart was a stone, her resolve unwavering, always searching for the next monster, always rushing towards the greatest danger.

She had wanted to be alone, but An Yue and the higher-ups had refused.

An Yue, her expression grim, had looked at her and said:

“If you go alone, and something happens to you, when she returns, she’ll devour the entire planet.”

Xiang Er, taking a bite of her emergency rations, a meat bun, had smiled faintly:

“You’re right, then we’ll do it your way. When she returns, I’ll put in a good word for you.”

An Yue had nodded, her heart heavy. Those who knew the truth understood that this was a gamble, with only two possible outcomes: either humanity, clinging to this sliver of hope, would witness the planet’s destruction, or… as Xiang Er had suggested, a new Evil God would be born from the remaining black slime.

But even the second outcome… it would take time. And time was what humanity needed most.

Xiang Er, flying around, absorbing monsters, was like trying to extinguish a volcanic eruption with buckets of water, it might have a temporary effect, but… it couldn’t stop the inevitable.

But for now, this sliver of hope, this fragile hope, was enough. An Yue thought, her gaze resting on Xiang Er.

Xiang Er insisted on wearing light clothing, to facilitate the absorption of the monsters. She ate constantly, forcing down the most nutritious food, even when her stomach couldn’t handle it. She often touched her neck, her arm, her wrist, her gaze lingering, as if she could see the black slime beneath her skin.

She even whispered to the slime sometimes, her words a mystery.

An Yue often wondered, if they measured Xiang Er’s SAN value now, would it break the scale, a negative number?

What would a negative SAN value even mean?

And… was Xiang Er even human anymore?

Perhaps, she had already become the most powerful, the most terrifying monster, that’s why she could devour the others.

But if Akhe only loved the human Xiang Er, if she returned and saw this monstrous Xiang Er… would she, in her rage, destroy the entire planet?

Who knew… the more An Yue thought about it, the more bleak the future seemed.

A new recruit, his voice hesitant, asked:

“Um… Miss Xiang, are you sure this will… bring back the Evil God?”

The moment he spoke, another investigator’s hand clamped over his mouth, everyone holding their breath, their gazes fixed on Xiang Er.

Didn’t he know! This kind of question… it was taboo!

This newbie, his days were numbered… would Xiang Er devour him?

But Xiang Er, hearing this, smiled, a slow, almost cruel smile.

She caressed the smooth skin of her wrist. Although exhausted, she had been eating well, and her skin had regained some of its healthy glow.

Her gaze fixed on her wrist, not looking at anyone, she suddenly spoke, her voice soft:

“Of course. And if it doesn’t, I won’t live either.”

Silence fell upon the helicopter cabin, no one daring to speak, they all carefully avoided her gaze, giving her space.

Soon, the helicopter, its rotors whirring, arrived at a large city. This city, the nation’s economic heart, was now in ruins, ravaged by three Class S+ monsters.

The once bustling shopping malls and residential areas were now a jumbled mess.

People screamed and ran, the military and police forces overwhelmed, even the specialized anti-monster weapons useless against these powerful creatures.

An investigator in the helicopter, her face grim, said:

“According to our intel, these three Class S+ monsters have developed… unprecedented intelligence. They’ve organized hundreds of lower-level monsters and are attacking the less defended areas of the city, their goal seems to be… taking over the entire city!”

Looking down, they saw swarms of small monsters roaming the streets, picking off fleeing humans, the monsters’ growls, the humans’ screams, the sounds of gunfire and explosions, a scene of utter chaos.

An Yue said:

“It’s a complicated situation here, you should wait…”

But Xiang Er had already leaned forward, a faint smile on her lips:

“Just… drop me into the middle of them.”

An Yue grabbed her clothes:

“No!!! Absolutely not!!!”

But the helicopter door was open, and Xiang Er, with a soft click, unfastened her safety harness.

She glanced back at the investigators, her colleagues, a faint smile on her lips, and said softly:

“It’s okay.”

Her voice, light and airy, was barely audible amidst the chaos.

Then, she stepped out, her body falling.

The others, caught off guard, An Yue screaming, lunged towards the open door, but all she saw was a piece of white fabric, Xiang Er’s dress, fluttering in the wind.

And Xiang Er, like a beautiful, defiant butterfly…

Fell.

A flicker of light, the black slime shimmering, a fleeting glimpse.

Then she landed, swallowed by the swarm of monsters, disappearing from sight.

Xiang Er hadn’t gone mad, she knew what others thought of her, she knew what she thought of herself.

She told herself, over and over again, that she would return. But in her dreams, she saw herself dead, gone, completely consumed. She searched high and low, but she couldn’t find her, anywhere.

And yet, Xiang Er couldn’t die.

Akhe was gone, but she couldn’t die.

It was a fate worse than the most terrifying nightmare, and a new thought took root in her mind: What if I die?

What if I die, will it all be over?

To die. It became her new mission.

So she had jumped, without hesitation, without a thought for the consequences, only the roar of the wind in her ears, the sight of the snarling monsters below.

She landed amidst the swarm, the black slime on her body erupting, spreading… and just then…

The sky suddenly brightened.

Countless fiery meteors streaked across the sky, their burning trails illuminating the world, a blinding light, day and night.

Like a volcano erupting in the upper atmosphere, a giant, fiery object, trailing a long tail of flames, plummeted towards earth.

Xiang Er, standing amongst the monsters, suddenly realized… the black slime was gone.

Yes, all of it, in an instant, as if sensing something, had vanished.

And she, in her white dress, unarmed, defenseless, surrounded by monsters, their jaws open, their attacks imminent…

Xiang Er thought, is this it? Is this how I die?

Will I see Akhe after I die? In the gentle embrace of death, will I finally see her again?

Xiang Er smiled faintly, the stench of the monsters, their hot breath against her skin, a stinging sensation, and she looked up, wanting to see the sky one last time, the sky Akhe had protected…

But she didn’t die.

A thick tentacle wrapped around her, shielding her.

And suddenly, a giant, mountain-like, black monster appeared before her.

The other monsters, with howls and shrieks of terror, scattered, then vanished completely.

The thick tentacle, trailing endless black slime, rose into the sky, wildly absorbing the other monsters, silently and efficiently cleaning up the mess.

And Xiang Er, still dazed, looked at the tentacle that held her.

She stared at the thick, black and red tentacle, its suckers, its spines, its grainy surface, everything exactly as she remembered.

Was this… a dream? Or the afterlife?

And then, a voice, clear and distinct, echoed in her mind, sending shivers down her spine:

“It’s me, I’m back… Little Ears, you’ve suffered.”

And the thick tentacle, its movements swift yet gentle, lifted her and carried her to the helicopter still hovering above, carefully placing her inside, closing the door.

Xiang Er looked down through the window.

The giant, expanding, all-consuming, silent, and powerful black tentacle monster. It was her, the one she knew so well, that presence, that voice.

“Akhe… is back?”

Chapter 96: Protection

The sky churned, the planet roared, people across the globe witnessed a multitude of strange and terrifying phenomena, a wave of madness sweeping across the earth, the universe seemingly peeling back a layer of protection, exposing its fragile inhabitants to the harsh realities of existence.

But at the epicenter of this chaos…

In the old residential building, the focus of all those in the know…

There was only silence, a deathly silence, a silence that could turn a person to dust.

Xiang Er stood frozen by her bed.

A few grains of sand remained in her palm, pale and translucent, almost invisible.

She was like a statue, a fragile glass figurine, about to shatter in the slightest breeze.

She looked at the grains of sand, the remnants of Akhe’s heart, the heart she had given her so readily.

The heart that represented Akhe’s life…

So…

The possibility hung heavy in the air, but Xiang Er couldn’t bring herself to think it, to even form the words in her mind.

She seemed to be standing there, but her soul was already running, lost in a boundless fog, a soul shattered, crushed, burned… twisted into something grotesque and unfamiliar.

She turned her hand over.

The remaining grains of sand fell to the floor, a small pile of dust.

A tiny grave.

Xiang Er climbed into bed, exhausted, too tired to do anything, to even think.

She lay there quietly, then reached under her pillow and pulled out a rusty piece of metal.

The familiar piece of metal, stained with dark, dried blood, and Xiang Er stared at it, a bitter, ironic smile touching her lips.

She had hated that creature, once.

But now… she didn’t even know, without it…

How could she even live?

Humans… were truly ridiculous creatures.

But Xiang Er understood now, the most intense hatred was often born from the deepest love. Even now, remembering the times she had hated Akhe, she could still sense the underlying affection.

She had loved Akhe, and that’s why she had hated her lies, her manipulations, her imprisonment, her well-intentioned, sincere confessions, her lavish gifts, her sudden departure.

And most of all, she hated that Akhe’s heart had shattered!

She hated her so much… and yet, she also loved her.

But perhaps… there was still hope… perhaps there was an afterlife, reincarnation, those comforting human inventions, she hoped they were real.

She wanted to see Akhe again, that so-called Evil God, and tell her: I hate you.

I will always hate you for what you did to me.

I will always hate you…

Xiang Er smiled, lifted the rusty piece of metal, and with a swift, determined motion, plunged it towards her neck!

But the metal stopped, millimeters from her skin, a layer of black slime appearing, its darkness spreading across her neck.

Xiang Er pressed harder, the metal sinking into something soft and viscous. She couldn’t see her neck, she thought she had pierced her skin, and she twisted the metal, wanting to sever the flesh, the blood vessels beneath.

But the metal, after a moment, lost its sharpness.

It vanished, absorbed by the black slime.

Xiang Er frowned, and her fingers, the metal gone, touched her neck.

A sticky, viscous substance, like a swamp, clinging to her skin… she lifted her fingers, their tips coated in black slime.

She knew this substance too well.

She had seen this black slime countless times, on this very bed, she hated it more than the tentacles, and after their reconciliation, Akhe had been careful to keep it away from her.

But now…

Xiang Er stared at her fingers, her eyes widening, a sudden rush of emotions, and tears streamed down her face.

This was a part of Akhe!

Akhe had left a part of herself behind!

Akhe was still here… with her!

Xiang Er quickly wiped away her tears, grabbed her blanket, climbed out of bed, and, stumbling slightly, ran to the bathroom, to look at her neck in the mirror.

The woman in the mirror was a stranger. She couldn’t remember the last time she had looked at herself, and she stared at her reflection for a long time, before realizing it was her.

Her face was gaunt, her cheekbones and jawline sharp, almost piercing her skin, her features harsh, her amber eyes unusually large, dark circles beneath them.

Her lips were pale, almost blue, and yet, the lips Akhe had loved so much, Xiang Er touched them, her fingers tracing their dry, chapped surface.

When… had she become like this?

Xiang Er looked down again, the black slime on her fingertips gone, no trace of it on her neck either.

But she knew it was there.

She knew… she looked at her reflection, its eyes strangely bright in its gaunt, haggard face, and she started to cry again.

Tears traced paths down her dry, cracked skin, along the deep lines of her dark circles, across her cheekbones and hollow cheeks, a shimmering, wet sheen, like a fragile shell.

A tear fell to the floor, and Xiang Er wiped her eyes, turned, and walked towards the door.

After forty-two days, she finally left the apartment, leaving the empty, silent rooms behind, without looking back.

She carried Akhe’s gift, a protective shell.

Ready to conquer the universe.

That morning, a rare, global catastrophe struck, a simultaneous occurrence of countless, inexplicable natural disasters and anomalies, humans and animals mutating, rampaging through cities, chaos and destruction everywhere.

All anomaly detection devices, at the same moment, registered a massive energy surge, overloading their systems, rendering them useless.

Humanity, in the face of such power, was helpless.

The Western world’s order crumbled, other regions, already unstable, descending further into chaos. Only Hua Guo maintained a semblance of order, its military and police forces organizing evacuations, the Special Investigations Bureau abandoning all secrecy protocols, its investigators openly using their abilities to fight the mutated monsters.

But even among the investigators, many had succumbed to the mutations, turning into monsters themselves! The remaining investigators, outnumbered and overwhelmed, fought on, on the verge of collapse.

But they all knew, deep down, that the planet’s destruction… was only a matter of time.

And judging by the current situation, the deity who had gone to fight for the planet… was most likely dead.

The investigators were filled with sorrow, especially those in Hua Guo who had fought alongside her, they had considered her a comrade, a friend.

But no matter the chaos, no matter how overwhelmed they were, the moment Xiang Er opened her apartment door…

An Yue appeared, racing up the stairs, meeting Xiang Er on the fifth floor.

An Yue’s eyes were filled with a suppressed grief, and seeing Xiang Er, she quickly prepared some comforting words, but…

Xiang Er, her gaze intense, suddenly lashed out!

An Yue, caught off guard, felt the steel dagger at her waist being snatched away!

“What are you doing?!”

An Yue shouted, reaching for the dagger, but Xiang Er just smiled, her eyes, in the dim light of the stairwell, like blood-red azaleas, a dangerous glint, a hint of… madness.

Xiang Er lifted the dagger and plunged it towards her own neck!

An Yue, unable to bear the sight, closed her eyes, her heart sinking: It’s over, it’s all over, the planet is doomed, humanity is doomed!

She waited for the blood to splatter, but after a moment, she heard Xiang Er’s laughter, a broken, halting sound.

“Hehe… hehehe…”

The eerie laughter echoed through the dim stairwell.

An Yue opened her eyes and saw…

A layer of black substance, swirling and coiling, covering Xiang Er’s slender neck, a familiar sight… like…

Xiang Er laughed, a wild, unrestrained laugh, and she lifted the dagger again, aiming for other vital points, her neck, her wrists, her heart, her stomach… black slime appearing wherever the blade touched.

An Yue, stunned, whispered:

“Is that…”

Xiang Er smiled, a sweet, almost girlish smile, her arms wrapped around herself:

“It’s her.”

An Yue’s eyes lit up. She didn’t know what it meant yet, but she felt… a flicker of hope for humanity.

As expected… the fate of humanity, the fate of the planet, rested on Xiang Er’s shoulders!

She was the Evil God’s lover, and humanity’s last hope!

Soon.

At the site of a Class S+ monster attack, the investigators, exhausted and on the verge of collapse, suddenly saw a helicopter approaching, its doors opening.

Inside the helicopter, a small, slender girl in a white dress calmly extended her hand.

The Class S+ monster, about to swat the helicopter away, its massive claw reaching out, suddenly vanished, as if absorbed by the girl’s touch!

In the blink of an eye, the monster, which had been impervious to the attacks of dozens of investigators, was completely devoured, gone!

Inside the helicopter, more black slime appeared on the girl’s arm, and she gently caressed the writhing mass, her gaze filled with a tender affection.

The scene was so powerful, so surreal, that the investigators on the ground could only stare, a sudden urge to kneel, to worship, overcoming them.

The girl, of course, was Xiang Er.

An Yue, beside her, breathed a sigh of relief and asked Xiang Er:

“Do you need to rest?”

Xiang Er, her gaze fixed on the slime on her arm, whispered:

“Continue, it needs more, I can feel it…”

The helicopter immediately flew towards another monster attack site, and Xiang Er sat down, gently stroking the slime on her arm, the wind whipping through her hair.

She didn’t know what would happen, but she had a feeling, a strange premonition.

A smile played on her lips, her eyes filled with hope and love.

That love, a beacon in the chaotic universe, the brightest light in the darkest sea.

She loved her, and so…

She would return!

Chapter 95: The Wish

Autumn rain was very different from the torrential downpours of summer. Summer rain was violent and forceful, beating against the earth like a rock and roll drumbeat, relentless and unrestrained; autumn rain, however, was melancholic and lingering, a lament for lost love, its droplets shattering like fragile tears, scattering across the ground.

The autumn rain fell on the balcony, on the camphor tree, into the room.

Xiang Er opened all the windows and stood there, letting the rain soak her hair, her face, her eyes, her entire body.

She felt parched, despite the rain, her heart a desert, her tears dry and brittle, unlike the soft, gentle rain.

The doctor used to visit three times a day, then, after being kicked by Xiang Er, had reduced his visits to once a day. Recently, he hadn’t dared to come at all, Xiang Er’s condition worsening, her refusal to see anyone intensifying.

The state had arranged for the best therapists, but it was no use, Xiang Er would become violent, throwing them out, refusing to listen to a word they said.

But autumn still arrived, and Xiang Er, who hadn’t seen Akhe return in late summer, continued to wait.

If Akhe didn’t return today, she would wait tomorrow.

Damn it, telling her not to wait, how dare she interfere, she would wait, for as long as it took.

Xiang Er stood in the rain, her face turned towards the sky, the grey clouds heavy, the rain like needles, piercing her eyes.

She stared, her eyes stinging, but she didn’t blink. She wanted to see through the sky, beyond it, to the furthest reaches… she wanted to see Akhe.

But she couldn’t see, she couldn’t see anything.

She screamed in frustration, her throat raw, the rain pouring down her throat, a salty, metallic taste.

She turned and spat out a mouthful of blood, watching it mix with the rain.

At first, An Yue and the others, worried about Xiang Er’s suicidal tendencies, had installed security cameras in the apartment, but Xiang Er had quickly destroyed them.

Xiang Er found it ridiculous, suicide? How could she commit suicide, she hadn’t seen Akhe return, how could she possibly…

She had to take care of herself, live her life, wait for Akhe’s triumphant return… she had tried, in the beginning, she had really tried.

She would wake up every morning at the same time, wash up, go to the kitchen and attempt to make breakfast, the results always a disaster, inedible, yet she would force herself to eat it, then wash the dishes. After breakfast, she would take the small eyeball for a walk, holding its black tentacle, strolling through the compound, looking at the flowers, the trees, buying some groceries and fresh flowers. Back in the apartment, she would have lunch, then read or practice calligraphy, and when it was time, she would go to bed.

She never closed her bedroom door.

But every night, the investigators stationed nearby would hear her screams, her cries, her hysterical laughter.

They all knew she was losing her mind.

But the next morning, she would wake up at the same time, and repeat the same routine.

After a while, the nightly madness intensified, the daytime walks with the small eyeball growing shorter and shorter.

The small eyeball had stopped speaking, its slit-like mouth opening and closing, only incoherent babbling sounds escaping, its face contorted in pain, its tentacles limp and listless.

Xiang Er would hold it and say:

“Say ‘Mommy,’ say ‘Mommy!’”

The small eyeball would open its mouth, but no words came out, its tentacles weak and limp.

It spent more and more time sleeping.

Soon, Xiang Er could no longer maintain her routine, she couldn’t take the small eyeball for walks anymore, and her carefully constructed schedule crumbled.

Xiang Er stopped getting out of bed, stopped eating, stopped sleeping, wandering through the apartment like a ghost, wrapped in layers of blankets.

Blankets knitted by Akhe.

She wandered, holding the small eyeball, crying and screaming in the dark, empty rooms, until her eyes were red and swollen, then collapsing onto the floor, falling asleep.

Every night, she went to bed with a sliver of hope, praying that when she woke up, Akhe would be there.

But after so many disappointments, she didn’t even want to sleep anymore.

Anything remotely dangerous had been removed from the apartment, and An Yue would come every day with a doctor, to check on Xiang Er, to forcibly administer tranquilizers and nutritional supplements.

Everyone knew this couldn’t continue, but… there was nothing else they could do.

No one knew if, or when, Akhe would return, or how long Xiang Er’s current state would last.

An Yue even tried to heal the small eyeball, but human understanding of such entities was limited, and the small eyeball just continued to weaken, with no other obvious symptoms.

An Yue considered taking the small eyeball, as instructed in the letter, to provide it with better care.

But as soon as she said:

“Maybe we should take the small eyeball to the hospital…”

Xiang Er stared at her, her gaze intense, her body huddled on the sofa, her arms wrapped around herself, like a protective mother.

There wasn’t much sanity left in Xiang Er’s eyes.

Her amber eyes, dilated from the darkness, stared blankly, unblinking, their gaze cold and distant.

An Yue chuckled awkwardly:

“Forget I said anything.”

Xiang Er looked away, cradling the sleeping small eyeball, gently kissing its head.

The small eyeball, with a tentacle, nuzzled against the warmth of Xiang Er’s neck, its eye closed, and continued to sleep.

Every day now was a torment for Xiang Er, a slow descent into madness, and An Yue, watching, felt a growing sense of helplessness.

By October, Xiang Er had developed a tolerance to the medication, the sleeping pills and tranquilizers no longer effective, requiring stronger, more experimental drugs, with potentially harmful side effects.

Another sleepless night, Xiang Er sat by the window, her body thin and frail, her skin pale as paper, as if it might crumble at the slightest touch.

She liked watching the sunrise from the window, the warmth of the sun a reminder that she was still alive.

But it had been raining constantly lately, no sunrises, and she felt herself decaying, a growing suspicion that she was already dead, only a lingering attachment keeping her tethered to this world.

The small eyeball had been asleep for three days now, and for three days, she hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten or drunk anything, just holding the small eyeball close.

The room was as silent as a cave in the heart of a snowy mountain.

A faint touch on her finger made Xiang Er’s body stiffen, and she looked down.

A thin, black tentacle was clinging to her finger.

A flicker of hope, a long-forgotten emotion, and she thought the small eyeball had woken up, and she followed the tentacle with her gaze…

An egg.

The small eyeball… had become an egg.

A translucent egg, the size of her fist, thin, black tentacles, like veins, pulsing faintly on its surface.

Xiang Er lifted her hand, holding the egg up to the light, a dark mass visible within the translucent shell.

And the black tentacle on her finger, slowly, withered.

It became a thin, black thread, and fell away.

Gone.

Xiang Er stared at the egg, her vision blurred by the misty morning light.

She slowly climbed down from the windowsill, cradling the egg, her movements slow and deliberate.

Her legs, thin as matchsticks, no longer moved with their usual grace, she shuffled forward, like a cave dweller, wrapped in a faded, worn blanket.

Through the bedroom door, through the living room, through the dining room.

She reached the refrigerator.

Her hand, trembling, like a withered branch, opened the refrigerator door. It was empty, but spotlessly clean.

Xiang Er no longer felt the cold, and she wondered if it was plugged in, but the light was on. But it wasn’t cold.

She held the egg, examining it one last time. A dark mass within the pale grey shell, the veins on its surface no longer pulsing.

Utterly still.

The hum of the refrigerator was clearly audible.

It wasn’t cold, the coldness was in her heart.

Xiang Er’s lips moved, and she kissed the eggshell, a silent farewell.

A faint red glow emanated from the eggshell, a fleeting flicker, like a hallucination.

Xiang Er placed the egg in the refrigerator.

She closed the door.

And for a moment, she was transported back to that evening, a naive, unsuspecting girl, returning home from work, opening the refrigerator, seeing an egg inside, and screaming in fright.

Xiang Er opened her mouth, a silent scream. But her voice, hoarse and raspy, like an old woman’s, couldn’t form a proper sound, just a broken, guttural cry:

“Ah… ah… guh… ah…”

She screamed, just like she had that evening, the first time she had seen the egg, she screamed.

It wouldn’t die, it would be okay.

Xiang Er opened the refrigerator door again, looking inside. The egg lay motionless on the shelf, no red glow, no pulsing veins, no shimmering light, nothing.

Xiang Er closed the refrigerator door.

She shuffled forward, her movements slow and uncertain, unsure where she was going.

There was nothing… no life left in this room. She herself was barely alive.

She sat down heavily on the floor, her thin body hitting the hard surface, a sharp pain in her hip, and she smiled, a bitter, broken smile.

Tears, thick and cloudy, streamed down her face.

Her voice, for once, clear and steady, said:

“Akhe, my wish is… for you to come back.”

The words echoed through the quiet, empty apartment, the dim morning light filtering through the balcony window.

Xiang Er suddenly saw a red glow, a brilliant red light filling the room.

Her heart leaped, a sudden, sharp pang, and she stood up, clutching her chest, and ran to her bedroom, opening her bedside table drawer.

There, the translucent, heart-shaped gem.

The gem… was glowing!

A brilliant red light, illuminating the entire room! A clear, beautiful, dazzling red light!

Xiang Er stared, her eyes wide with disbelief, her breath catching in her throat, her eyes stinging, she wanted to laugh and cry at the same time!

It was Akhe’s heart! Akhe had answered her wish, no matter when, no matter where… Akhe always answered her wishes!

Xiang Er reached out, her hand trembling as she carefully touched the heart-shaped gem, lifting it from the drawer, holding it up to the light…

Then… a soft “crack.”

A very soft, almost inaudible sound.

At the peak of its brilliance…

The heart shattered.

Crumbling into dust in her hand, fine grains of sand slipping through her fingers, falling to the floor.

Chapter 94: Split

For a long time, Xiang Er couldn’t understand the words.

Outside, the sun shone brightly, birds chirped, insects buzzed, a vibrant, lively scene, but the room was unusually cold, a chill running down her spine.

She reread the letter, its delicate paper carrying a faint fragrance, several times, recognizing each individual character, yet their meaning eluded her.

She clutched the paper, confused, and turned to sit down on the sofa, but the world suddenly tilted… and she collapsed, unconscious.

She didn’t know how much time had passed.

Xiang Er was awakened by a cacophony of voices, her mind slowly returning, and she found herself in a sterile white hospital room, wearing a hospital gown, lying in a bed.

Beside her pillow, a small, black sphere was crouching, and seeing her awake, it opened its single eye, its eyelid drooping, then extended a tentacle, carefully placing it on Xiang Er’s forehead.

Xiang Er was confused. Was that the small eyeball? Why was it here, in the hospital with her? What had happened?

And the most important question, the question that filled her with a growing unease.

Her throat parched, she tentatively called out:

“A… Akhe…”

Several people immediately rushed into the room, some in white coats, some in uniforms, only An Yue a familiar face.

Xiang Er gave An Yue a questioning look as the doctors examined her, their instruments beeping and whirring. She noticed that they seemed to be accustomed to the small eyeball, they could see it, they weren’t surprised, just gently pushing it aside so it wouldn’t interfere with their examination.

An Yue gave her a reassuring look, her hands in her pockets, her demeanor slightly awkward as she stood by the door.

After the doctors left, their instruments packed away, they spoke briefly to An Yue, who nodded, her expression grave.

Xiang Er’s gaze remained fixed on An Yue, and when An Yue finally looked at her, she immediately asked:

“Where’s Akhe?”

An Yue opened her mouth, then closed it again. Xiang Er, her patience wearing thin, frowned:

“Is she… on another mission? When will she be back?”

An Yue’s eyes widened in surprise:

“Huh?”

Xiang Er:

“Isn’t she? I’m in the hospital, why isn’t she here?”

An Yue’s expression turned complex, and after a moment, she finally said:

“Do you… remember the letter?”

Letter? What letter? Xiang Er didn’t remember any letter, she only remembered Akhe driving her to the mountains, and then her memory was a blank, until she woke up here.

Had they been attacked in the mountains?

An Yue, after a moment of thought, winced as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a sealed plastic bag containing a piece of paper, which she handed to Xiang Er.

Xiang Er took the paper and stared at it.

She recognized every word, but their meaning eluded her. And the signature, Akhe? Why? Why would Akhe write her a letter, weren’t they together every day?

Vague images surfaced, the black stream in the mountains, the giant pillars of the temple… the human skulls, the blue flames, and… the red heart.

Before she could piece together the fragments of memory, a wave of panic made her gasp, her heart pounding, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

She clutched at her chest, frantically searching:

“Where is it? Where’s my heart?”

An Yue asked:

“What heart?”

Xiang Er, gasping for air like a beached fish, her chest heaving, her voice hoarse and broken, managed to say:

“I have to go back!”

An Yue didn’t argue, didn’t try to stop her, just opened the door.

But outside wasn’t the hospital corridor, but a road, a police car waiting, its door open. Xiang Er immediately got out of bed, grabbed the small eyeball, tucked it into her pocket, and jumped into the car.

This “special ward” had been hastily set up for her, right next to her apartment building, and the car, after a few minutes, reached the building, stopping at the entrance. Xiang Er jumped out and ran inside.

Her body, strengthened by months of exposure to the Cthulhu’s… fluids, was now surprisingly resilient, and An Yue, running after her, could barely keep up. Within a minute, Xiang Er had reached the sixth floor, stopping in front of her apartment door.

She didn’t have her key, and An Yue, catching up, took out a key and was about to unlock the door, when Xiang Er snatched it from her hand:

“I’ll do it.”

It had been over six months since Xiang Er had last touched her apartment key.

The cold, hard metal pricked her palm, and she fumbled with the lock, her hand trembling, like a willow branch in the wind.

She must be tired from running.

She took a deep breath, inserted the key into the lock, and turned it.

The familiar creaking sound. Surely, this would be enough to make Akhe come and greet her, wouldn’t it?

She didn’t push the door open, waiting for Akhe’s tentacles to open it for her. But… the door didn’t move.

After a long moment, An Yue reached out and opened the door. Xiang Er hesitated, then stepped inside.

The slippers by the door were neatly arranged, Akhe’s fluffy rabbit slippers for winter, and the red woven slippers for summer.

Both pairs were there.

Xiang Er walked inside, the small eyeball jumping from her hand and rolling listlessly across the floor.

The memories gradually returned, and Xiang Er remembered… last time, she had also searched the entire apartment, but Akhe had been gone, not a single tentacle in sight.

She looked at the letter she had been clutching, trying to decipher the words, it seemed… it said that… Akhe had left?

She turned to An Yue:

“Akhe’s not home?”

An Yue nodded sympathetically.

Xiang Er looked at the letter again, but she refused to understand.

She handed the letter to An Yue, her eyes closed, and said:

“What does it say? Explain it to me.”

An Yue looked at the letter, then at Xiang Er, and felt that this was the most difficult mission she had ever been assigned.

She carefully chose her words:

“It says… that… another Cthulhu-like entity has appeared near this planet, and Akhe has to go and… negotiate with it, which means… Akhe has to leave this planet for a while, and you should… take care of yourself, and wait for her to return… that’s… what it says.”

An Yue tried her best to sugarcoat the message, hoping it sounded optimistic, hoping it would be enough.

She looked at Xiang Er.

Xiang Er had been unconscious in the hospital for three days, waking up only in the late afternoon, the fiery glow of sunset filling the sky, the clouds like a painted landscape, the golden light illuminating her face.

She stood there, silently, like a withered branch on a snowy mountain, like a defiant antler in the desert.

Her pale, thin face, half in shadow, half illuminated by the golden light, a strange juxtaposition of warmth and coldness.

Her eyes, normally soft and timid, were now dull and vacant, devoid of emotion.

She looked like… a hollow clay statue, its eyes unpainted, its ribbons gone, its form rough and lifeless.

An Yue’s heart sank.

After a long silence, Xiang Er finally spoke.

Her lips, pale and dry, like paper, whispered:

“The letter said… not to wait for her to return. What does that mean?”

An Yue’s heart ached for her, and she stammered, trying to find the right words:

“She didn’t mean it like that… she just… wants you to live your life…”

But Xiang Er’s gaze was fixed on a point on the wall, as if seeing something invisible, her voice a harsh, metallic rasp:

“She’s going to die, isn’t she? She’s gone to fight, and she’s going to die! Ahahahaha!!! She’s going to die!!!”

She suddenly burst into laughter, a hysterical, unrestrained laughter, her hands flailing, as if she had discovered some secret incantation, pacing the room, her movements erratic, her laughter and screams echoing.

“Ah!!! She’s going to die!!! She’s going to die, hahahahaha!!! Aaaaaaaaaaah!!!!!”

An Yue rushed forward, using her combat skills to restrain her, pushing her onto the sofa, trying to calm her down, but Xiang Er, even with her limbs held captive, continued to scream:

“She’s going to die!!! She’s going to die!!! Do you know why she’s going to die? It’s because of me!!! I told her to die, and she’s going to die, ahahahaha!!! Wuwuwu, aaaaaaaah, it’s because of me!!!!”

She suddenly arched her neck back and vomited, a retching sound.

Having not eaten or drunk anything for three days, it was just bile.

An Yue quickly dodged, but some of it splattered on her arm, and she patiently cleaned it up.

Xiang Er’s vomiting fit subsided, and she lay on the sofa, her body covered in her own vomit, her clothes stained.

She stared blankly at the ceiling, her throat burning, her voice a hoarse whisper, repeating over and over:

“I did this… I killed her… I cursed her… she’s dead, she’s going to die…”

An Yue looked at her. She no longer looked human, like a beautiful corpse, drained of blood, her skin deathly pale, yet her eyes wide and staring, not a single tear.

Her hospital gown was stained with green bile, the stench overwhelming, but Xiang Er seemed oblivious to it, just repeating those words, over and over.

Just like the doctors had said, her physical health was perfect, but her mental state… early signs of schizophrenia, delusions, hallucinations, mania, compulsive repetition… she should be hospitalized.

But… no one dared commit the Cthulhu’s lover to a mental institution.

An Yue sighed and, grabbing a cloth, was about to clean up the mess…

When she was stopped by several thin tentacles.

It was the small eyeball’s tentacles, An Yue recognized them. It was supposedly Akhe and Xiang Er’s pet, harmless, just a bit… polluting.

The small eyeball, using its tentacles, took the cloth, then some tissues and wet wipes, and, its spherical body bouncing, hopped onto the sofa, carefully cleaning Xiang Er.

It wiped the vomit from her clothes, then gently cleaned her face.

Xiang Er didn’t move, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, like a doll’s, unseeing, unaware of who was cleaning her.

Then… a strange, childlike wail echoed through the room.

Night had fallen, the light fading, the room almost completely dark, the delusional patient muttering incoherently.

And in this setting, a sudden, childish wail, filled with sorrow and anguish… made An Yue jump, and she quickly switched on the light.

The old light fixture flickered, then bathed the room in a harsh, bright light, and from Xiang Er’s wide, staring eyes, tears finally began to flow.

The wailing was close.

Xiang Er slowly turned her head, her gaze falling on her own chest.

The small eyeball, its blood-red eye filled with tears, was clinging to her, its thin, black tentacles spread out like weeds, its cries soaking Xiang Er’s clothes.

The small eyeball looked at Xiang Er, its slit-like mouth wide open, its cries even louder:

“Waaaaah—guwah—”

Xiang Er stared at the small eyeball, her gaze regaining some focus, as if finally realizing she was back in the real world.

An Yue, seizing the opportunity, said:

“Look, you still have a child, you can’t fall apart now.”

Xiang Er didn’t respond, didn’t move.

Just as An Yue thought she hadn’t heard, Xiang Er suddenly moved.

She raised a trembling hand and gently touched the top of the small eyeball’s head. A few tentacles immediately wrapped around her finger, and the small eyeball, its cries turning into soft sobs, its tears flowing even more freely, its mouth wide open, its voice filled with anguish and longing:

“Mom… Mommy… wuwuwu… Mommy…”

Xiang Er’s lips trembled, her muttering stopped, her gaze finally finding a focal point.

Tears streamed down her face as she hugged the small eyeball close, finally letting herself cry.

Chapter 93: The Letter

After a long, deep kiss, Xiang Er leaned against Akhe, the heart-shaped gem pressed against her own chest.

She looked up at Akhe and whispered:

“I’ll keep this safe.”

The temple was cold and ancient, the flickering oil lamps casting long, dancing shadows, and as Xiang Er looked up, her eyes, reflecting the red light, shone like a startled rabbit’s, wide and wet with unshed tears.

Or like a deer, a pure, innocent creature in this dark, corrupted world, unaware, untouched, her presence a beacon, a guiding star, a vessel of hope… a home.

Even gods could be fragile, Akhe thought.

Akhe gently stroked Xiang Er’s hair, her voice low and husky:

“Let’s go home.”

Xiang Er, about to stand up, suddenly cried out in alarm!

A thick tentacle had wrapped around her waist, lifting her into the air, and beneath her feet, the giant stone steps began to crack!

A deafening roar echoed through the temple as it began to collapse!

The massive stone steps, the intricately carved gargoyles, the vibrant murals, all cracked and crumbled, the floor shattering, the altar splitting apart, the human skulls, as if coming alive, leaping and scattering!

A chasm opened beneath them, black slime oozing out, devouring everything.

The slime swallowed the altar, the pillars and statues, the grotesque, eye-adorned monsters, the human bones and animal furs… the falling oil lamps igniting the fur, the fat, the wood, eerie blue flames spreading rapidly.

And Xiang Er, protected by the tentacles, had already been carried to the temple entrance by Akhe, hovering high above, watching the destruction unfold.

Xiang Er, speechless, stared at the epic scene, a spectacle she had never imagined witnessing.

The hot, dry air, thick with the stench of decay and burning flesh, the black smoke swirling, those primitive, roughly hewn statues and carvings, testaments to humanity’s earliest creativity, worthy of a museum, all crumbling, dissolving into the black slime… those terrifying, or perhaps sacred, works of art, imbued with the faith of countless humans… all gone!

Beneath the burning blue flames, Xiang Er felt a strange, inexplicable sadness.

She didn’t know where it came from, but… her eyes stung, her throat tightened, and she turned to look at Akhe, who held her close.

Akhe’s familiar face, in the flickering firelight, was expressionless, like a perfectly sculpted statue.

What was she thinking? As her own temple crumbled, did she feel regret, or relief?

Akhe suddenly turned, her gaze meeting Xiang Er’s.

Her eyes, reflecting the blue flames, seemed frozen, then, seeing Xiang Er, thawing instantly, a smile curving her lips:

“Let’s go.”

Xiang Er:

“This place… like this… is it really okay?”

Akhe’s voice was calm:

“It’s okay, its purpose has been fulfilled.”

The tentacles shifted, adjusting Xiang Er’s position, making her more comfortable, and they rose into the air, leaving without looking back.

The valley below burned with eerie blue flames, the black stream swelling, the massive wooden pillars collapsing, soon, it would be just an ordinary valley again, no trace of the temple remaining.

Xiang Er, high above, suddenly felt a pang of fear. Was this… a premonition?

But it was probably just her imagination… Akhe was powerful, wasn’t she?

They flew all the way back, Akhe seemingly abandoning the car, flying much faster, and they arrived home just as night fell.

Xiang Er’s mood, throughout the journey, had been somber, although reconciling with Akhe was a good thing, she still felt… a lingering unease.

As soon as they entered the apartment, Akhe’s bag still in her hand, Xiang Er wrapped her arms around Akhe’s neck, pulling her close, her lips finding Akhe’s.

She couldn’t say the words, but she thought them, a silent plea: Kiss me…

She craved the comfort, the familiarity of a loving touch, to quell her anxiety and fear.

Akhe immediately kissed her back.

The kiss was forceful, almost desperate, her tongue, like a small snake, invading Xiang Er’s mouth, the force of it almost painful.

Xiang Er had thought the kiss would calm her, would dispel her worries, but… it had the opposite effect.

A sudden clap of thunder, lightning splitting the sky, the camphor tree outside thrashing wildly in the wind, the incessant beeping of car alarms…

It was the last storm before autumn… a cold wind blew in from the balcony, ruffling Xiang Er’s hair, her neck arching back, her body bending, the wind and the tentacles caressing her bare skin… she shivered, her legs involuntarily parting, a cry escaping her lips:

“Mm…”

A single tear rolled down her cheek.

And at that moment, the rain, with a sudden “whoosh,” began to pour down.

The stars and moon vanished, the world falling silent for a moment, only the sound of rain, a chaotic drumming. Raindrops splattered on the ground, on the trembling flower petals, on the very source of life.

That night, in the storm, they were lost in a frenzy of passion.

When Xiang Er woke up, her eyelids felt heavy, the simple act of opening them requiring all her strength.

She opened her eyes, and a weak sunlight, filtering through the blue windowpane, illuminated her desk.

Her body ached with exhaustion, but she seemed to have been healed, there were no injuries. She sat up, pushing herself up with her arms, and saw that it was already afternoon.

The air, washed clean by the rain, was fresh and cool. Xiang Er tried to get out of bed, but her body felt weak and heavy.

She sat there for a while, leaning against the headboard, resting.

Her throat was parched, she wanted some water.

But… she waited, and no water came.

A scratching sound at her door made Xiang Er frown, puzzled, when had Akhe developed a habit of scratching at the door?

Xiang Er coughed a few times, put on her nightgown, and went to the door, opening it.

The small eyeball was crouching there, several black tentacles extended, and seeing her, it blinked its large eye, its expression one of unconcealed panic.

Xiang Er was now familiar with the small eyeball’s every move, every expression, but she had rarely seen it look so frightened.

A sudden fear gripped her, and she frowned, asking the small eyeball:

“What’s wrong?”

The small eyeball opened its slit-like mouth, but… no sound came out.

It blinked, as if struggling to speak, its mouth open, yet silent. It rolled away from the door, gesturing with a tentacle towards a certain direction.

Xiang Er’s hands and feet trembled, a terrible premonition washing over her, her movements clumsy, bumping against the door and the doorframe.

She walked forward, as if crossing the boundary between dream and reality, the pink bubble of her illusions about to burst, her steps slow and hesitant, unable to even leave the doorway.

Her breathing grew heavy and labored, and she pushed open the door, following the small eyeball, looking around…

There was nothing there.

Yes, nothing. The apartment was clean and tidy, meticulously so, the old furniture even polished, not a speck of dust, the lightbulb in the ceiling fixture replaced.

The cushions on the sofa, neatly arranged by color. The sofa itself smooth and clean.

But last night… Xiang Er remembered what had happened on the sofa, the tentacles writhing in the slimy fluid, the entire sofa soaked…

The floor, too, was spotless, gleaming, not a single trace.

Xiang Er looked towards the master bedroom. Last night, they had… made a mess of that bed… but now, the bed was perfectly made, the sheets clean and smooth, nothing out of place.

The small eyeball hopped onto the dining table, where a piece of paper lay.

But Xiang Er avoided looking at it, her gaze, filled with a mixture of panic and a strange, lingering hope, fixed on the kitchen.

Every morning, Akhe would be there, preparing breakfast, her culinary skills now so advanced that it wasn’t unusual for her to be quiet… perfectly normal.

She must be in the kitchen, preparing breakfast, that’s why she wasn’t there to greet her. It had to be.

Xiang Er walked towards the kitchen, her steps slow and cautious, and looked inside.

It was… empty.

Clean and tidy, spotless, the utensils neatly arranged, no one there, no tentacles.

No one was making breakfast.

Xiang Er, her heart sinking, stumbled back, then ran to the bathroom, frantically searching.

Finally, she couldn’t help but call out:

“Akhe…? Where… where are you?”

She ran through the apartment, searching every room, but she couldn’t find her.

The apartment now felt vast and empty, terrifying, like a cave in the deep mountains, the air heavy, suffocating.

Xiang Er passed by a mirror and saw her own reflection, her face pale and bloodless.

Ignoring it, she turned and walked towards the dining table, where the small eyeball was.

The small eyeball was crying silently, large, transparent tears dripping onto the table, carefully avoiding the piece of paper.

Xiang Er, her hand trembling, picked up the paper, a few lines of elegant handwriting:

“My beloved Xiang Er:

Remember the… other one I mentioned? It has arrived near this planet, and I have to go and… negotiate, or perhaps fight, so I must say goodbye.

I promised to be honest with you, so I have to tell you, the outcome of this battle is uncertain. You have my heart, and if it… breaks, disappears, then please… forget me, and live your life.

I am truly sorry for everything I’ve done to you. And I’m eternally grateful for your… forgiveness. I will fight for you, but please don’t wait for me.

I’ve instructed the investigators to… look after you. If you need anything, contact An Yue, she’s always nearby.

The small eyeball will stay with you, but it will gradually weaken without me, you can give it to An Yue if you want.

Under the witness of the universe and the stars, I will always love you, until I cease to exist.

Your most devoted lover, Akhe.”

Chapter 92: First Kiss

The car sped through the forest, a blood-red lightning bolt, the branches of the towering trees whipping past.

A fierce, greyish-green wind buffeted the car, the sky overcast, the sunlight barely filtering through the dense canopy, the trees a blur of green, the deep, ancient forest seemingly endless.

Xiang Er realized, with a start, that they were heading towards the mountains!

The mountains she had visited only once, yet a place she would never forget.

As the car wound along the mountain road, through the thick, thorny bushes, Xiang Er caught a glimpse of the small city below. The small, remote city she had visited when she was twenty-one, the city where she had bought that wooden carving, the carving that had brought this… thing… into her life.

It was… where it all began.

And now, this car, this speeding, blood-red car, was taking her deeper into the mountains, a remote, almost deserted region…

Xiang Er’s voice trembled as she turned and grabbed Akhe’s shoulder:

“Where… are we going?”

Akhe, her arms crossed, her profile serene, her gaze fixed on the small city below, a complex emotion in her eyes, turned to Xiang Er.

Her dark eyes, reflecting the deep green of the forest, held a deep, tender affection.

Her hand gently caressed Xiang Er’s cheek, her voice slightly unsteady:

“You’ll see when we get there.”

Xiang Er, her eyes wide with unease, asked:

“What… what are you planning to do?”

Akhe said:

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you… I would never hurt you, not even if it meant hurting myself.”

Xiang Er, reassured, still asked:

“And you… you won’t hurt this world either, right?”

Akhe hesitated, then smiled, her smile reflecting the wild, untamed beauty of the forest and mountains:

“I’ll try.”

Xiang Er’s heart sank, the answer unsettling, what… what was she planning?

She bit her lip nervously and reached out, grasping Akhe’s arm:

“You… you won’t hurt this world, will you? It’s… important to me.”

Xiang Er’s voice was soft, a hint of pleading in her tone, her eyelashes fluttering as she looked up at Akhe.

Akhe, touched by her vulnerability, forced a casual smile, trying to lighten the mood, her hand gently caressing Xiang Er’s cheek, her fingers lingering on the soft skin.

Her voice light and playful, she said:

“I was just joking, look how worried you are… so cute.”

But Xiang Er didn’t smile, her gaze fixed on Akhe, wary and watchful.

The red car, like a streak of lightning, sped along the winding mountain road, the shadows of the trees flickering across Xiang Er’s face, making her look like a fragile paper doll, not a living, breathing person.

Akhe stared at her, a long, lingering, almost hungry gaze.

Xiang Er suddenly reached out and gently touched Akhe’s arm, her eyes, in the shifting light and shadow, glistening with tears:

“Then… don’t hurt yourself either, okay?”

As she spoke, the car entered a tunnel, the roar of the wind filling their ears, drowning out everything but Xiang Er’s soft plea, her eyes shimmering with tears.

She was… worried about her.

Akhe, overwhelmed by this realization, couldn’t believe it, she even tried to reach out with her mental tendrils, to probe Xiang Er’s mind.

It was the same, a genuine concern, even deeper.

As they emerged from the tunnel, the light returning, Akhe’s smile was bright and gentle, seemingly carefree, as she took Xiang Er’s hand, patting it softly, and said:

“Okay.”

Perhaps she wasn’t lying, or perhaps… it was a monumental lie.

The world whizzed by, and as they drove deeper into the mountains, they occasionally passed small villages, the elderly residents, in their traditional clothes, carrying baskets on their backs, fleeting glimpses before they disappeared.

Xiang Er unconsciously searched for the woman who had sold her the carving, but of course, she didn’t see her.

Akhe explained:

“The wood used for those carvings does carry my… essence, but it doesn’t usually react to human blood, only you, you’re special, your blood… it called to me, it awakened me from my slumber…”

Xiang Er frowned:

“So you decided to become a stalker?”

Akhe nodded:

“Yes, it was a… mistake. I sometimes wonder… if I hadn’t awakened, would things have been different… never mind.”

She turned her gaze towards the window, no longer speaking, and Xiang Er felt a growing unease.

Something was about to happen… but what? She couldn’t figure it out.

The car reached the end of the road, the path ahead leading into the deep mountains. The sports car wasn’t designed for such terrain, and Akhe and Xiang Er got out, walking side by side along the dirt path.

The deep mountains were perpetually shrouded in mist, their vision limited, barely able to see each other’s faces. Xiang Er stumbled along the uneven path, and soon, Akhe gently lifted her with a tentacle.

She sat on the thick, secure tentacle, almost completely enveloped, Akhe’s voice, carried by the mist, reaching her ear:

“Hold on tight.”

A high-pitched whine, like a phoenix’s cry, echoed through the air, and Xiang Er, with a gasp, clutched the tentacle as she was lifted high into the sky!

They looked down, the contours of the mountains and forests emerging from the mist, ancient trees brushing against their feet, glimpses of unseen animals in the woods below, a world untouched by humans, slowly revealing itself, the cold, sharp air carrying a metallic tang, like ancient secrets unveiled.

Xiang Er was mesmerized, until they landed.

Akhe extended dozens of tentacles, their movements slow and deliberate, as they descended into the deserted valley, gently placing Xiang Er on the ground before retracting, the tentacles coiling behind her like a cluster of tails.

And before them… Xiang Er looked up, her mouth open in astonishment, as if in a dream.

It was a temple.

In the deepest part of the valley, a black stream snaked through the mist, bones scattered across the ground, the earth a dark red, as if stained with ancient blood.

And the temple gates, over thirty feet tall, made of massive wooden beams, their surfaces covered in a blood-red paint, adorned with mysterious symbols, the pillars carved with intricate, tentacle-like patterns, the red paint thick and crude.

The doors, made of wooden planks, painted with images of tentacles, eyes, and other strange symbols, were closed.

Xiang Er was stunned.

She could see that the entire temple was carved in the same style, a primitive, almost brutal aesthetic, a wild, untamed beauty that defied all modern conventions.

It was… exactly the same style, the same colors, the same symbols as the wooden carving.

Before she could speak, Akhe’s voice, solemn and echoing, said beside her:

“This is my temple.”

Xiang Er turned, and behind Akhe’s human form, countless black tentacles unfurled, like rivers of darkness, the mist in the sky turning red and black, the world closing in on her.

Akhe’s face glowed faintly, and she said:

“Enter with me.”

Her voice echoed through the valley, the trees trembling, her command absolute.

Xiang Er involuntarily followed. She reached the gates, and they opened automatically, a musty smell of decaying wood and damp stone emanating from within, and she looked inside, too stunned to speak.

The interior of the temple was even larger, more magnificent than the outside, its pillars and beams intricately carved, the floor paved with expensive green tiles, countless terrifying images, vividly depicted, crawling across the surfaces, not just tentacles and eyes, but all the grotesque creatures of human nightmares.

And in the center of the floor… a giant, circular altar.

The altar was piled high with bones, fur, fat, and ashes, and even… human skulls.

Xiang Er stood before the altar, her senses overwhelmed by the pungent stench, a familiar stench, the primal, terrifying scent of the Evil God’s true form.

Akhe entered the temple, and as she did, the oil lamps on the walls flickered to life, one by one.

Akhe also stood before the altar, her small figure, dwarfed by its height, like a tiny sprite with a trailing tail.

Xiang Er, speechless, looked at Akhe and asked, her voice filled with a sudden dread:

“Is it… time?”

Akhe raised an eyebrow:

“Hmm?”

Xiang Er said:

“Is it time? Is my offering… ready? Are you going to throw me into the altar now?”

Akhe chuckled:

“No, of course not. I brought you here… to give you a small gift.”

She walked towards the back of the altar, where a wooden throne sat atop a small set of stairs, its design, compared to the altar, surprisingly plain, except for a large obsidian embedded in its back.

Akhe sat on the throne, her finger gently touching the obsidian. The throne split open, revealing a dark abyss beneath.

Akhe said:

“Look.”

Xiang Er cautiously approached and looked inside. The abyss was empty, except for… a large, softly glowing red stone.

Akhe said:

“That’s my heart.”

She said this casually, her finger beckoning.

The so-called heart, pulled by some invisible force, rose from the abyss, shattering the throne, the obsidian, and the stairs, creating a large hole in the floor, before finally hovering in mid-air.

The giant, irregular stone, the size of a small hill, radiated a soft, red light that illuminated the entire temple. Akhe’s tentacles extended, wrapping around the stone, absorbing its red glow, the tentacles writhing and pulsing, as if compressing something.

Xiang Er, sensing what was happening, asked, slightly puzzled:

“What are you… doing?”

Akhe stood beside her, her human body like an empty shell, her gaze fixed on the stone above, her expression serene, unwavering, but she didn’t answer.

She didn’t show any sign of pain, but Xiang Er, watching, felt a growing ache in her own chest.

It was as if she could feel Akhe’s heart being squeezed, the tentacles straining, some of them even snapping, falling to the floor, absorbed by the black slime, then regrowing.

It seemed to be a strenuous task, yet Akhe’s expression remained calm and effortless.

What… was she doing this for?

After a long time, the giant red stone was finally compressed into a fist-sized object, wrapped in a tentacle, and offered to Xiang Er.

“This is for you, this is why I brought you here.”

Akhe’s voice, low and hoarse, whispered.

Xiang Er looked at the object. The red stone had been forcibly shaped into a perfect heart, translucent, glowing red, a stark contrast to the ancient, terrifying temple.

Akhe continued:

“When we had coffee for the first time, we received those heart-shaped cards, and I learned that offering one’s heart is a common way for you humans to confess your love. This is my true, my only heart, if it is destroyed, I will also be destroyed. Now, I’m giving it to you.”

She looked at Xiang Er, her beautiful face like an eternal statue, her eyes filled with tenderness:

“I want you to know, I will always love you, Little Ears.”

Xiang Er’s hand trembled, she didn’t know if she should accept this… heavy gift.

Akhe, cupping the glowing heart-shaped gem in her hand, gently placed it in Xiang Er’s palm.

It was heavy, almost too heavy to hold.

Akhe then said:

“There’s one more thing… I want to give you a dream… or perhaps, another life.”

Akhe’s finger gently touched Xiang Er’s temple, and a stream of unfamiliar memories flowed into her mind.

It was a strange sensation… Xiang Er still remembered her own life, her own memories, but with a thought, she could switch to this other life, these memories as real, even more real, than her own.

Like having two lives simultaneously.

In this other life, Xiang Er had been born into a loving family, growing up in a bright, clean home, her father playing with her as she learned to talk, her mother holding her when she fell, a fluffy black kitten her constant companion. Lullabies, glow-in-the-dark stars on her bedroom ceiling, her gentle mother, her talkative father, the warmth and comfort of a loving home.

She had gone to kindergarten, where the other children were kind, no one ever stole her candy, they even shared theirs with her, eager to be her friend. Elementary school was the same, good grades, popular, family outings on weekends, pictures taken amidst fields of flowers, falling asleep in her mother’s arms, sipping a sweet drink.

In middle school, she hadn’t boarded, staying at home with her loving parents, her rebellious phase, brief and mild, her parents understanding and supportive.

In high school, still living at home, the pressure of studies mounting, but her grades excellent, a natural talent for the humanities, earning her praise from her teachers. She had performed on stage, her singing voice captivating the audience, becoming the school’s most popular girl. She had received love letters, politely declining them, discussing them with her parents. She was well-read, traveled abroad during school breaks, learned to scuba dive and play golf…

She had been accepted into her dream university, her college life a happy blur. And there, she had met Shen Yuhe, the most popular, the most accomplished senior in the entire school.

And she had fallen in love with Shen Yuhe, at first sight.

Their love was beautiful, a dreamlike romance, Shen Yuhe completely captivating… and this time, there were no secrets, no lies.

Shen Yuhe was honest, sincere, completely devoted to her.

After a few blissful years together, Xiang Er nervously confessed their relationship to her parents, expecting their disapproval, but her parents, after a long silence, had simply said:

“As long as she makes you happy, that’s all that matters.”

Xiang Er had brought Shen Yuhe home to meet her parents.

Xiang Er, after graduating, had found a good, stable job, with no demanding bosses, no harassment. She worked in a field she loved, a normal nine-to-five schedule, her parents buying her an apartment in the city.

Shen Yuhe had also bought an apartment, its decor chosen entirely by Xiang Er, pink curtains, a tea table, and they had moved in together, their love nest, adopting a small, black kitten they named “Ball Ball.”

Ball Ball would always curl up at Xiang Er’s feet while she was reading, a small, black, furry ball, its tail swaying like a tentacle, occasionally wrapping around her ankle.

Ball Ball was very attached to her.

They had gotten married, two women in white dresses, exchanging vows, their kiss witnessed by their family and friends.

They had lived a happy, ordinary life, no secrets, no lies, a world without anomalies, without investigators, without… Evil Gods.

In this alternate life, Xiang Er had everything she had ever wanted, a perfect, ordinary life.

She opened her eyes, a sigh escaping her lips, and saw the terrifying temple before her.

And there, standing before her, was Shen Yuhe… no, it was Akhe.

Akhe, in Shen Yuhe’s form, stood before her, smiling, and as Xiang Er opened her eyes, she asked:

“Do you…”

Before she could finish, Xiang Er reached out, her arms circling Akhe’s neck.

Her soft lips, after a long hesitation, finally, willingly, touched Akhe’s.

Xiang Er’s lips pressed against Akhe’s cool, soft mouth, and she sighed:

“I thought… I would prefer the you in my dream… but I can’t lie to myself.”

She pulled away slightly, her gaze locked onto Akhe’s dark, bottomless eyes, seeing her own flushed, yet resolute, face reflected in them.

She said:

“I still… love you more.”

This broken, lost, clueless, awkward, foolish… you.

Akhe froze, stunned, as if unable to move. Xiang Er was about to pull away when Akhe suddenly embraced her tightly.

Akhe, her arms wrapping around Xiang Er’s waist, her kiss fervent and desperate, claimed Xiang Er’s lips.

Xiang Er closed her eyes, surrendering, shedding her armor, her past, ready to embrace a new future, she couldn’t bear this torment any longer, this self-inflicted pain.

This was their true first kiss, a kiss freely given, a mutual surrender.

Chapter 91: Bonfire

Late September, the end of summer, was a deep, inky green. The palm fronds, the camphor leaves, the grass, even the wind seemed saturated with this hue, like layers of green gauze, swirling and clinging.

The rooftop basked in the afternoon sun, the beautiful, otherworldly deity standing amidst the light, the wind lifting her long, black hair, which intertwined with thick, black tentacles, their tips glistening with slime, their suckers gently opening and closing, tasting the sea air and the sunlight.

She had just returned from battle, having devoured that enormous, monstrous fish, yet she stood there, her white dress flowing, ethereal and beautiful, a languid contentment in her eyes.

The stark contrast of the white dress and the dark, glistening tentacles. The Evil God, and the protector of humanity, an equally stark contrast.

And within that contrast, a mesmerizing beauty, a disorienting allure, like being drunk or on a roller coaster, reason and judgment suspended.

Xiang Er waved a dismissive hand:

“Keep it.”

She turned her gaze towards the white foam of the waves, lapping against the shore in delicate patterns of lace. The ocean, seemingly undisturbed by the recent chaos.

She thought, she was truly out of touch, living at home all the time, she had no real sense of the world outside.

Perhaps she should find a job.

Akhe seemed to put the bank card away. Her voice, soft and light, now always carried a gentle lilt.

She asked:

“Do you want to… spend a few days here?”

Xiang Er was about to refuse, then, looking at the palm trees swaying in the sea breeze, changed her mind:

“Alright.”

Akhe’s face lit up, her eyes crinkling into crescent moons, and she grabbed Xiang Er’s wrist, pulling her towards the edge of the rooftop.

“Let’s fly!”

With her arm around Xiang Er’s waist, she jumped!

The strong, salty sea breeze whipped against Xiang Er’s face, the world a blur of sound and motion, fading away… her ears popped, her heart pounded, her gaze unfocused, then she suddenly turned her head.

Beside her, Akhe, her hair a wild halo in the wind, her face indistinct, but her eyes, dark and bright, fixed on Xiang Er.

She mouthed the words: Don’t worry.

Xiang Er turned back, the descent seeming endless, her initial fear giving way to an adrenaline-fueled excitement.

A dive! Like a warrior into battle, the golden beach rushing towards them, Akhe slowing their descent just before impact, and they landed softly on the sand.

They were alone on the vast beach.

The beach had been closed after the monster fish attack, but Akhe and Xiang Er had the highest level of clearance, they could do as they pleased, a simple trip to the beach met with the full cooperation of the investigators, the military, and the police, their privacy ensured.

After landing, Xiang Er pulled her hand away from Akhe’s and walked towards the sea, her feet sinking into the sand. It was her first time seeing the ocean, and she was mesmerized.

Akhe followed, smiling, her steps echoing Xiang Er’s, silent.

As Xiang Er walked, Akhe carefully placed her feet in Xiang Er’s footprints, her movements precise and deliberate, more so than in battle, as if this were the most important task in the world.

After a while, Xiang Er sat down, the sand warm and soft beneath her, a comforting sensation.

Akhe sat beside her, then suddenly looked up, her brow furrowed, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon.

It was dusk, the first stars appearing, the night sky above the ocean a breathtaking sight, countless stars, clear and bright.

Akhe stared intently, her gaze seemingly piercing through the stars, into some distant, unknowable dimension.

Black slime, unconsciously, oozed from her, flowing across the sand, towards the sea.

Xiang Er sighed contentedly:

“The stars are beautiful.”

Akhe nodded:

“Yes…”

But her voice was distant, ethereal, and Xiang Er turned to look at her, her gaze also fixed on the stars, her expression… strange.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh… nothing.”

Akhe looked away and smiled at Xiang Er:

“Would you like… a bonfire on the beach?”

And so, that night, a group of highly skilled investigators found themselves on the beach, guitars in hand, dressed in beach shorts, tasked with creating a bonfire party for the Evil God and its girlfriend.

They took turns performing, sharing stories, dancing around the bonfire, and Xiang Er, who hadn’t socialized in a long time, felt a mixture of social awkwardness and genuine enjoyment.

She also noticed that, at some point, the investigators and Akhe seemed to have developed a rapport. Although still slightly intimidated by her, they would occasionally chat with her, even crack jokes.

But Akhe seemed distracted tonight, her replies brief, rarely engaging with Xiang Er.

The firelight, like a golden veil, flickered on Akhe’s white dress, her dark eyes reflecting the dancing flames, her gaze distant and unfocused, as if lost in thought, even Xiang Er’s presence seemingly unnoticed.

This wasn’t like her. But Xiang Er didn’t ask, enjoying the evening.

After two nights at a luxurious beachfront villa, they returned home.

The days flowed by like water, and Xiang Er, having asked An Yue to help her find a job, waited. An Yue had submitted the request, but her superiors were still deliberating.

Xiang Er waited patiently, it was understandable, after all, she had a Evil God living with her, it wasn’t exactly a normal situation, finding a job wouldn’t be easy.

But… Xiang Er had noticed that Akhe seemed… different lately.

For instance, she would occasionally burn the food while cooking, a rare occurrence for someone with Akhe’s now-proficient culinary skills, but it had happened several times since their return from the beach.

And she would often be lost in thought, seemingly distracted, not even paying attention to Xiang Er. A few times, Xiang Er, testing her, had deliberately left the apartment and wandered around the streets alone, and Akhe hadn’t even noticed for almost half an hour, a stark contrast to her usual, almost instantaneous response.

A few more days passed, Xiang Er’s job search still fruitless, and Akhe’s gaze, whenever it fell on her, seemed to intensify, a hungry, possessive look, filled with yearning, yet also… a strange sadness.

Xiang Er, unnerved by this scrutiny, her skin crawling, feeling like a piece of meat waiting to be devoured, would snap at Akhe:

“Creep! Why are you staring at me?”

Akhe would just smile and shake her head:

“Because you’re beautiful.”

Xiang Er would frown, retreat to her room, and Akhe, unlike before, wouldn’t follow.

Akhe’s affection had indeed cooled.

Xiang Er’s feelings were a tangled mess, she had thought that after their trip to her hometown, they could try again, she hadn’t expected this sudden withdrawal from Akhe.

She wasn’t going to force it, but… she felt… a pang of sadness.

She had almost forgotten the name “Shen Yuhe,” and the lies and betrayal it represented, couldn’t Akhe give her more time? Or was an Evil God just a Evil God, inherently fickle, its promises and vows meaningless?

That was… truly evil.

Xiang Er also grew colder, her expression, when facing Akhe, as frigid as the snows of Kilimanjaro.

But Akhe seemed… oblivious to her coldness, lost in her own world, even disappearing from the apartment for hours at a time.

Until one day, at the end of October…

Xiang Er woke up to find Akhe’s beautiful face inches away from hers.

She whispered:

“You’re awake? Are you free today? Will you come with me somewhere?”

Xiang Er was surprised. Akhe hadn’t greeted her at her bedside in a while, what was this, a change of heart?

Xiang Er sat up, and, trying to sound annoyed, said:

“I’m busy.”

Akhe, however, said:

“It’s your real birthday today.”

Xiang Er froze. The orphanage had always used the day she was found as her birthday, and since middle school, she had stopped celebrating it, the date long forgotten.

Akhe continued:

“I know I haven’t been… very attentive lately, so as an apology, and to celebrate your birthday, I have a gift for you.”

Xiang Er looked at her, her brow furrowed, wanting to appear aloof, but she said:

“You’ve finally noticed?”

Damn it, that sounded too eager… Xiang Er bit her lip, regretting her words.

Akhe smiled, her eyes deep and mysterious, like distant nebulae, and she lifted Xiang Er’s hand to her lips, gently kissing her fingertips.

Starting with her pinky finger, then her ring finger, her middle finger, her index finger, then her thumb, then turning her hand over, kissing each knuckle, then her wrist.

A pleasant tingling sensation, a long-forgotten warmth, spread through her hand like an electric current, and Xiang Er gritted her teeth.

Akhe’s full lips pressed against the delicate skin of her wrist, and she looked up, her eyelashes long and dark, like a peacock’s feathers, her eyes beautiful and alluring:

“I’m sorry, okay? Come with me, I’ve prepared a gift, it took me a long time…”

Xiang Er:

“…”

This temptress!

She pulled her hand away:

“Fine.”

Akhe chuckled softly, stood up as if to leave, then suddenly turned back and pulled Xiang Er into a tight embrace.

Akhe was standing, Xiang Er sitting, and in this embrace, Xiang Er’s face was pressed against Akhe’s flat, soft stomach.

The embrace was unusually tight, not just a hug, but as if… Akhe was trying to absorb her.

Xiang Er felt a surge of fear, and a strange premonition, and she tried to push Akhe away, but it was no use, Akhe, when she didn’t want to be moved, was as immovable as a mountain.

Akhe’s arms were around her head, tentacles probably also involved, holding her back, her waist, even her legs, and Xiang Er, helpless, stood up, trapped in the embrace.

Her face buried in the crook of Akhe’s neck, she couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, only the cool strands of Akhe’s hair against her cheek, like willow branches swaying in the spring breeze.

Akhe, with her tentacles and her human arms, held her tightly, her lips pressing against the top of Xiang Er’s head.

Then, her voice, low and resolute, a vibrating hum, echoed in Xiang Er’s ear:

“No matter what happens, remember… I will always love you, always.”