After Aer and Lian sealed their resolve to challenge the World Consciousness, Ling’s eyes fluttered open on cue, like a bell at dawn, rising from Alicia’s lap.
“Haa—” Ling loosed a wide yawn, arms stretching like a cat under morning sun.
“Umm… why do I feel like I missed something?” Her doubt drifted like fog that came too late.
Thump.
Alicia folded her into a tight hug, warmth crashing like a wave. Ling braced to wriggle free, but a trembling whisper cut in like rain on glass: “You’re okay… thank goodness… thank goodness.” Not knowing the storm behind those words, she let herself float, held like a small boat on a lake.
“Cough.” The sound from behind landed heavy, like a stone in still water. Ling’s hair prickled like static; she pushed Alicia back and turned, wearing a sheepish smile like a paper fan.
Alicia’s eyes dipped with a soft, sour glow, like dusk on a window. She’d watched Aer and Lian flaunt their sugar-sweet closeness earlier, quiet as a moon, and nobody stopped them—why freeze her after one hug? The universe’s director felt biased, like a scale tipped by a hidden thumb.
Aer caught that wistful look, clear as a trail in fresh snow. She knew exactly where Alicia’s thoughts ran, but time was a blade; she had things to tell Ling.
“Listen up, Ling. This is serious, like thunder over the ridge. I’ll say it once—don’t make me repeat it.”
Ling’s chest tightened first, a knot like bitter tea; her dislike for Aer rose like smoke, yet she held it down because the weight felt real, like iron in hand.
“As you saw, Lian saved your life. You’ll repay her. It’s simple—kill the World Consciousness.” Aer’s words fell clean, like a sharp cut through bamboo.
“But I ref—”
Thwack. Aer’s finger flick cracked against Ling’s forehead, stars popping like fireflies.
“No memeing your way out. You’ll do it, or you and Lian die.” The choice flashed like a knife at the throat.
“What the— I’m dying again?” Panic skittered like a beetle on stone.
Aer took her time, tracing rules of erasure like chalk lines on slate. After burning through ninety-nine percent of Ling’s brain cells like candles in wind, the gist finally stuck.
“So I’ve got no choice but to step up?” Her resolve shivered like a leaf over a river.
“Right. Or choose to die now for Lian.” The edge ran cold, like a cliff above black sea.
“Fine, fine… I’ll go, okay? But the world’s huge—where do I even find this World Consciousness? And can I beat it?” Her doubt scattered like birds from a tree.
Aer sighed, disappointment heavy as rain on old wood. “What’s your brain made of?” She tapped the air, patience thin as ice. “I told you—the World Consciousness repels anyone who grows beyond the world. Throw the world into chaos, and it’ll jump out like a hornet from a nest.”
Ling blinked, wide and cute, confusion bobbing like a jellyfish in clear water.
“I’m honestly defeated by you. Two choices—destroy the world, or rule it. Pick one.” The fork in the road shone like twin moons.
Put that way, it clicked; simple paths draw straight like arrows. “Of course I’ll pick the easy one: destr—”
Sin Ling’s shadow rose in her mind, dark as ink in water. Guilt pressed first, ash-soft; she’d promised Sin Ling never to do that again.
Aer waited a beat, voice gentle as a reed. “And you choose…?”
“Then… I’ll rule the world!” The words landed like stakes in earth.
Aer nodded, pulling out a small notebook like a sparrow’s nest, jotting quick. “Rule… the world… right? Noted. Since you’ve chosen, I won’t meddle much. Do your best.” Her approval brushed by like a breeze setting a sail.
“Eh? And you two?” Ling’s question wobbled like a kite string.
“I’m taking Lian on vacation, obviously.” Aer’s smile tilted, cool as lake light.
Ling felt the drag of a black-hearted boss’s hook, hauled like a fish toward unpaid labor.
“You’re not helping me?”
“Of course I’m helping.” Aer cut that thought clean, voice steady as granite. She cared about Lian’s condition; she wouldn’t leave Ling holding Lian’s life like a lone thread.
“I’m too kind for black-hearted tricks,” she added, wry as a crescent moon. “I’ll help deceive the World Consciousness. Otherwise it’ll tweak the records backstage, tilting your growth. You wouldn’t even get peaceful days, let alone bait it out.” The unseen hand lurked like shadow under lantern light.
Ling weighed it, thoughts circling like crows. It made sense—what if a sudden ambush hit? She could charge, sure, but what if charging just got her killed? Better to play it safe; rule first, fight later.
“Got it. We’ll do it your way. When I’ve ruled the world, you’ll come back and fight with me, right?”
“Mm. That’s the plan. Rule your world first; when you’re done, I’ll return.” Aer raised a finger like an hourglass. “I can keep the deception up for at most ten years. I don’t believe ten years isn’t enough.”
With that, Aer turned and laced her fingers with Lian’s, light blooming around them like a ring of dawn—teleportation magic humming like bees.
“Wait!” Ling called, thought flashing like a fin in water. “How do you deceive the world?”
Aer glanced back, silver hair glinting like frost, mouth curving faintly. “Simple. Just—”
Whoosh. The spell snapped shut, and the two vanished like sparks in wind.
“Tch… nasty routine.” Ling’s gripe flicked out like a pebble, and she tossed a cute white-eye at the fading circle, then looked to Alicia; her meaning was clear as a lantern.
At the teleportation site, the world was nothing—blank as snow under a white sky. In that pale center stood Aer and Lian’s unmoving body, silence deep as a winter pond.
The trick to deceiving the World Consciousness was truly simple, plain as a single stroke: ensure only one Ling exists in the world. Aer’s method was to temporarily strip Lian’s life, so the world held only one Ling, a lone name like a solitary star.
When Aer told Lian, Lian agreed without a blink, consent falling like a feather.
Aer cradled sleeping Lian, closed her eyes, and drifted into rest—or thought—like a boat on dark water.
World… must it keep turning? Did we still fail to slip free this time? Her doubt rolled like the wheel of samsara, heavy and slow.
