Am I going to die?

It's fine if you die.

If you die, you don't need to strive anymore.

...

Sob.

But Merka, but, Merka.

I really can't bear to leave you...

You clearly promised me a wedding.

Are all these things just fleeting like a mirage?

Sob, sob.

I love you, truly love you.

Now, later, from the very beginning.

I love you intensely, like a wolf loves its full moon.

The world fell silent.

The extinguished universe unfolded its dark five fingers, deeply stabbing into Turing's ribcage, tearing out a continuous stream of love.

The intense pain from her brain made Turing unable to feel her limbs.

Turing groaned in pain, struggling. She felt trapped in a crevice so narrow that only half a person could fit, unable to move up or down, unable to even die if she wanted to.

Gradually, the pain subsided.

For a moment, Turing felt thousands of versions of herself rushing and converging into her body.

The cycle of destiny and causality seemed to finally come to an end with her.

Turing couldn't help but relax her furrowed brow.

Suddenly, cold water gently washed over her delicate fingertips and smooth little feet.

Turing thought this was the arrival of death.

She breathed a sigh of relief, preparing to embrace utter nothingness.

"Mm-hmm."

"You, child, sleep so peacefully even at such a time."

Upon hearing the voice, Turing suddenly woke up.

She opened her eyes, sat up from the ground, and found endless clear sea in front of her, with her hands propped on a golden sandy beach.

Confused, Turing followed the voice and saw a young man bare-chested in swim trunks, with a luxurious fur coat draped over his shoulders, holding a cigar in his mouth.

He leaned against a futuristic hover fishing boat that Turing had never seen before, gazing leisurely at the vast sea, puffing on his cigar.

If Merka were here, she would have recognized the man with a face resembling Adam.

"Where is this... Shouldn't I be dead?"

"Is this the world after death?"

Turing blinked in bewilderment, curiously inspecting her surroundings.

She absentmindedly touched herself, realizing that she was dressed in a swimsuit like the man.

Although only fourteen years old, Turing's figure was not yet voluptuous but far from slim. She subconsciously ran her fingers through her hair, surprised to find her gentle peach-colored long hair still flowing behind.

Turing was bewildered. Was this before or after her battle with Beezelbub? Was this a mental world or reality?

Am I really dead or not?

"This is the sum of past and future."

"The ultimate end of all karma in the world."

"Also known as the (fourth dimension) often mentioned in science fiction novels."

The man hung his fur coat on the boat behind him, took slow steps toward Turing, and sat cross-legged on the sand.

"Who are you, uncle?"

"What are you talking about?"

The man's words, like those of a charlatan, irritated Turing.

"You little girl, I am your ancestor."

"If you must call me something, you can call me backdrop."

The man chuckled. Although Turing called him uncle, he seemed quite content.

"I don't know English, I'll just call you uncle."

Turing rolled her eyes at the man, feeling a bit disdainful.

"Fine, call me whatever you want."

Backdrop smiled indulgently and reached out to pat Turing's head.

But she pushed his hand away.

"Don't take advantage of me."

"I'm asking you, am I dead?"

Turing stared at the man, asking calmly.