"Momo, what do you think…"

"Why are those angels so eager to become humans?"

"Humans are not that great... They are selfish and arrogant, always insatiable, and occasionally extremely troublesome."

"But Sister Mammon, Sister Samael... and our mother, they always seem to be fascinated by humans."

"Why is that?"

____________________________________________________

A shattered building stands silently in the center of endless ruins.

It rises like the Tower of Babel, lonely and imposing. Though only four stories tall, to an observer from the ground, this building exudes a strange, oppressive aura, towering into the sky.

Turing and Merka are trapped in a specific area of this high tower, unable to escape.

Here, blood flows like a sea, snowstorms rage, and the freezing frost firmly holds Merka and Turing's toes to the ground, rendering them immobile.

Deep bloodstains, spreading like red spiderwebs, emanate from the soles of their feet. The blood immediately stains the surrounding ground, quickly freezing into blood-red tendrils.

Within the crimson snow lies decayed bones and rivers of flowing blood and flesh.

Merka's eyebrows are almost frozen off. He tightly cradles a metallic sphere in his arms—visibly, the backdrop machine.

Turing, seemingly stunned by the scene before her, gazes in disbelief, her eyes numbly fixed on Merka.

Though an escape gate lies behind Turing, offering a way out of this area, they are separated by a surging river of blood.

Strangely, even in such frigid temperatures, this river of blood does not freeze but instead churns violently, as if boiling from some unseen source.

A massive black shadow, resembling a small mountain, slowly reveals its true form from behind Merka and approaches him.

Thud, thud, thud.

Its thunderous footsteps continuously echo in the desolate hearts of the pair.

A giant angel, burning silently in this frozen wasteland, shuffles forward with faltering steps.

It reaches behind Merka, lifts its crane-like hand towards him.

"Turing."

"It's time.”

Merka appears indifferent to the angel behind him.

He smiles and raises the metallic sphere in his hand, reminiscent of the time he and Turing had a snowball fight by Lake Anhun on a afternoon.

"I love you."

"I can give you everything I have and will have."

"I am willing to bear the most unfortunate destinies and sorrows for you.”

"For me, you are like an uncovered night."

"Like a clear dawn."

"But you should be free, Turing."

"You do not need me as I need you."

"Do not let the constraints from your childhood with elders weigh on me."

"I will not be anyone's groom."

"And you shall not be anyone's bride!"

Merka, with a cheerful voice, shouts loudly to Turing.

With a smile on his face, he lifts one arm and throws the metallic sphere towards Turing.

Watching the metallic sphere trace an arc through the air, he resembles a father seeing his child off into the distance.

Merka’s smile is sweet.

Turing finds it hard to explain that pure sweetness.

That sweetness is like a whole summer’s watermelon condensed, swallowing a bite of it sends a narcotic fragrance from the mouth to the heart, where it gently and softly ripples.

"Take my love and go, Xixi!"

"Grow freely, enjoy freedom until the end of time!"

Just as Merka finishes his words, the colossal angel behind him vigorously swings its devilish claw.

The hideous talons cut across Merka's neck, decapitating him and sending his head high in the air.

With a clang, the sound of metal colliding resounds from under Turing's feet, finally breaking her out of her daze.

The metallic sphere thrown by Merka rolls to Turing's feet, crossing the blood-stained ground emitting a deathly aura.

Turing stares at the backdrop machinery at her feet, her eyes widening in horror.

_________________________________________________________

"Ha... ha... ha."

Turing suddenly awakens from the nightmare, finding herself on her luxurious bed at home.

Separated from Merka, Turing once again starts having nightmares, and even the dark circles under her eyes reappear after years of absence.

"You damned fool... you damned fool!"

Looking around, Turing realizes she is still imprisoned in Erisburg after more than a decade in her own boudoir.

The anger from her nightmares and the brutal reality awaken a fire in Turing's heart. She grabs the gem-encrusted lamp from the bedside table and smashes it fiercely against the bedroom wall.

"Eek!"

The glass lamp shatters, startling Yanling sitting in the corner.

"Mi-Miss..."

"Are you having nightmares again?"

Yanling timidly approaches.

She cautiously sits on Turing’s bed, anxiously asking Turing.