"You... lunatic!!"
The Owl God finally reacted to what Merka was trying to do. In a panic, it frantically unfurled its wings behind it, trying to intercept the tentacles reaching out towards the red powder bags.
But it was already too late.
Merka's tentacles, like two vibrant snakes, slithered past the Owl God's attack, directly lifting up the two bags and twisting them open above its own head.
A shower of red powder burst out from the ruptured bags, bathing Merka in it.
Phantasmal red dots floated in the air, resembling a rain of crimson flowers.
Merka took a deep breath, involuntarily taking a step back.
The magical red mist, entering through his nostrils, pumped into his veins, causing him to feel momentarily dizzy.
This soft, intoxicating red mist, like a glass of transparent red whiskey illuminated under the lights of a bar counter.
Merka's gaze unfocused, succumbing to the alcohol. Just looking at the liquid refracting strange colors, his mind unknowingly began to drift.
He seemed like a staggering pilgrim.
Wobbling, meandering around the base of the magical mountain in a trance.
Finally catching sight of a path leading upwards.
The red aurora bathed the small path through the mountains, the divine figure faintly visible in the swirling illusion, whispering to him...
It's not your fault.
It's not your fault.
It’s not your, fault.
―――――――――
"Ha, ha, ha..."
"Hiss..."
Merka woke up startled from the bed in the Boho Villa.
Outside the window, ghostly goose feather-like snow fluttered, icy hail pelting the pristine French windows, emitting a childlike groan.
The dreadful Snowland invaded his dreams.
The night of the orphanage, a mix of rape, drugs, and farewells, still lingered in Merka's mind like a plague doctor haunting him.
Merka pulled his arm away from the soft memory foam and Turing's warm embrace, his sticky sweat almost leaving trails on the covers.
"Darling, did you have a nightmare again?"
"All right, all right, don't be afraid, don't be afraid..."
Turing also sat up from the bed.
She stared blankly at Merka for a while, then gently embraced him, patting his back lightly.
Turing thought a little comfort would be enough for Merka, but tears kept streaming down, wetting her arm.
Contrary to Turing's expectations, today's Merka wasn't as strong as usual.
The snow and rain outside seemed to touch the softest part of Merka. In the cruelest way, they exposed his scars, making his whole body ache and tremble incessantly.
"Turing... I'm sorry, sob, I'm sorry."
"I don't know where to go..."
"I'm so tired, so tired."
"I don't know how to make everyone happy."
"I don't understand... Since someone always has to suffer, why did God entrust me with the choice to make others suffer...?"
"If everyone is destined to die one day, what's the point of my choices?"
"I don't have that ability..."
"I'm not qualified..."
"I'm not prepared mentally..."
"I really don't know what to do..."
Merka cried in deep sorrow.
Turing felt heartbroken.
Turing lowered her half-lidded, blue eyes and looked at Merka clutching the covers, tears flowing down her face.
Turing knew she couldn't fully empathize with Merka.
They came from different backgrounds, had different personalities, and even belonged to different races.
But she loved Merka, and Merka loved her. In this aspect, their feelings were mutual.
So, Turing had her own way of comforting Merka.
"It's okay, it's okay, calm down, listen to me."
"When you don't know where to go..."
"Just remember to move forward."
Turing said earnestly to Merka.
"Move forward...? But where?"
Merka was puzzled.
Turing smiled faintly, one hand behind Merka's ear, whispered softly to him.
"Let me tell you a secret."
"For resilient humans."
"No matter where you go, it's always forward."
――――――――
A large amount of red powder crushed the last shreds of Merka's consciousness.
Along with Merka's fading consciousness, his impression of the Owl God disintegrated as well.
