Hey, you sinners! This spider's thread belongs to me! Who allowed you to climb up? Get down! Get down!
Stepping on the swaying iron chains, below was boiling lava and demons roaring in hell. Numbly, bare feet stepped on the glowing red heat that had roasted the soles, not knowing which way was right, not knowing when one would fall—just walking on.
Will I see hope if I go forward?
Will I return to the past if I go back?
Clang.
The iron chains rang again. When would they melt and snap, letting this weary soul fall into the depths of hell?
The hot wind caught the hem of her clothes, and sparks ignited the ends of her hair. She tilted her head up; at some point, she had stopped walking.
A straight, thin silver thread quietly fell before Him.
The cemetery was as desolate as another world; only the wailing of the sky could be heard.
Mobius lowered her hand, which had been reaching toward the dark clouds. The damp smell of earth wafted into her nose, and cold raindrops struck her snake-like pupils.
Wind blew into her collar amidst the sky's mourning. She exhaled a thin white mist and took something out of her lab coat pocket.
A gilded Mobius strip.
This was something Mobius mother had given her on the day she was born, and it was the only thing Mobius had taken from that home.
This earring was a memento of her mother and the direction of her path forward.
"That person came too. Didn't she have a bad relationship with him?"
"Shh, keep it down, don't let her hear... How should I know what she's thinking..."
Mobius was the only one attending the funeral. The people whispering about her presence were merely laborers following Kevin request to bury the belongings in this ordinary cemetery.
Yes, only one person attended this funeral. Even the deceased wasn't there; he had left nothing behind. Inside the coffin were only some mementos.
And those mementos weren't even his own. They were the belongings of the sacrificed people he had collected, filling his coffin.
Mobius found it a bit ironic. In his entire life, he hadn't even left anything for others to use for remembrance. In his eyes, his life—even his death—existed for other people.
The Mobius strip was gradually soaked by the heavy rain. Mobius eyelashes were also beaded with water. She stood in this seasonal drizzle, aloof and calm.
Scrape...
The coffin containing that man's thoughts was lowered into the pit. They began to cover it with soil. Mobius tilted her head slightly, her snake-like pupils as thin and pale as the rain, watching the coffin gradually disappear into the mud.
Only when she could no longer see the brownish-black coffin did she toss the Mobius strip in her hand into the pit.
"Eh?" The worker filling the soil saw this. He looked hesitantly at the seemingly expensive earring, not knowing if Mobius had lost her grip or if she intended to...
"Fill it. I intended to give that to him from the start."
Mobius cold voice made his body shudder. He hurriedly shoveled the dirt in. The pressure around Mobius was simply too great; he just wanted to finish quickly and go home.
As if she had finished what she needed to do, she turned and left without looking back. Her green hair was the most vivid color in the cemetery.
Clatter.
The sound of beer cans colliding made her already hungover, aching head feel as if it were splitting in two. She opened eyes that smelled of alcohol and did nothing. Her mind went blank as she leaned against the wall in the pitch-black, foul-smelling room.
Her snake pupils emitted a faint green glow in the darkness.
She had almost forgotten the last time she stepped out of her room. After returning from the funeral, she had been drinking constantly, cycling every day between blacking out and waking up.
She felt like she wasn't herself anymore.
At that thought, Mobius laughed. "Feeling like I'm not myself"... what kind of nonsense was that?
That man should have died long ago. When the Third Honkai came for her, she had already concluded that he wouldn't live long. Being able to live this long was already beyond expectations.
Besides, someone like him, even in peaceful times, was the type who wouldn't live a long life. This rotten world wouldn't allow someone like him to exist.
After witnessing the fragility of humanity, she should be working harder to achieve her goals.
So, this depression—what was the point...
"..."
Mobius stood up, wobbling and holding her knees. The room was filled with the smell of vomit and alcohol. Numbly, she scrambled into the bathroom, slammed the door shut, pressed her forehead against the glass, and stared silently at the person in the mirror.
Who was this haggard, unkempt, alcohol-scented mess? Was it herself?
It made her feel disgusted.
Splash...
The icy water from the tap made her feel a bit better. After washing her face and rinsing her mouth, she walked out of the bathroom, impassively avoiding the bottles and vomit, and left her private office.
Click.
The sound of the door opening drew the attention of the three people in the lab. Nuwa and Fuxi, in a rare move, didn't take the opportunity to slack off; they were as silent as the air. Klein immediately stood up upon seeing Mobius: "Doctor, let me help you tidy up your room..."
"No need." Her voice was so cold she was shivering. "I'll tidy it myself."
After that, Mobius went to her private lab in a daze. Her heart cooled during the process, until the moment she picked up a vessel, she finally realized what she was going to do.
She calmly confirmed the materials on the table, then calibrated the experimental equipment, inputting data into the computer one by one to let the machine start running steadily.
There were no mistakes throughout the entire process. She was more precise, efficient, and... cold than in any previous operation.
Her face was indifferent, yet there seemed to be a faint smile, as if she were not conducting an experiment, but some kind of ritual in the pale laboratory.
Soon.
How soon? She didn't know, didn't want to know, and didn't want to think about those meaningless things anymore.
Doing what Mobius would do, the same things as before—she didn't care if she was called a demon.
As long as this experiment was completed...
That idiot who radiated silliness would return here, and this time, she would use a chain to lock that disobedient pet up. That way, he wouldn't...
He wouldn't...
Wouldn't...
BANG!
Her hands slammed onto the table. In a rage, she overturned the vessels and equipment. The sound of crashing and shattering rang out in the empty lab. She grabbed everything she could see and smashed it against the walls!
Until, gasping for breath, she stood in the laboratory where nothing was left, weakly covering her face and sinking to the floor.
But that person wouldn't want her to do this.
He would want her to keep walking. He was that kind of person.
Making her suffer, making her angry, making her greedy, making her unable to breathe...
Just once...
Even just once, say to me: "You are wrong."
Why drop a spider's thread to someone in hell...
Why snap it the moment it's grasped...
National Day Special: The Spider's Thread (Part 2)
Kevin wore gloves as he maintained the mottled pistol in his hand, which was covered in a thin layer of frost. In its original owner's hands, it hadn't suffered any damage for nearly ten years; yet in his hands, it had rusted in less than a week.
Mei joked that it was because Kevin caused everything around him to frost over, which made the pistol rust exceptionally fast.
But Kevin did not laugh.
Those words seemed to imply something else; the moment he heard them, he felt a suffocating pressure.
He would make everything around him frosty, cold, and frozen.
Be it a gun.
Or a person.
A flash of pain in his mind caused him to stop applying the gun oil.
The communicator on the desk chirped.
"The funeral is over. Aren't you going to take a look?"
Before he could even step on the soft, moist soil, it was frozen into hard clumps of earth. The man, dressed in black with his hood up, walked steadily past one tombstone after another.
If the fallen had remains, Fire Moth would be responsible for the burial; if not, their names would be engraved in the "Cemetery" at headquarters.
But Kevin didn't want to do that. At the very least, this wasn't something Fire Moth should handle.
Let him sleep here quietly, alongside the people he loved most in life.
It didn't take long for Kevin to find a tombstone with fresh soil and a blank face.
No words were engraved upon it—this, too, was Kevin request. He didn't know how to describe that man; from friend to comrade-in-arms, no title felt appropriate. And that name—he didn't want it to appear on a headstone.
It was a form of cowardice and escapade.
Kevin knew very well that he was far from the hero others described. He was lost, fighting only for one person; he was timid, finding it difficult to face the sacrifices of others.
Perhaps there were better candidates for a hero, but that man had shaken his head and said that what humanity needed was Kevin, not him.
Rustle, rustle...
In the pool of waters, another person stepped out from behind a tree. He seemed to have been here from the start, quietly watching Kevin and this grave.
"Doctor Mobius was the only one who attended the funeral."
Su, the Enlightened One, opened his eyes at that moment, gazing at the nameless grave.
"I saw her cry."
"...Mobius doesn't cry. It was probably just the rain." Kevin tilted his head back, and the indifferent rain slid down his face, turning into ice crystals before they even hit the ground. "Did no one else come?"
"They didn't want to. Kalpas almost laid a hand on me."
"..."
Perhaps it wasn't that they didn't want to come.
It was just that they needed time to process it. Coming here meant they had to accept it.
Humans are adaptive animals; once a fact is accepted, it begins to fade.
They didn't want to forget.
"Kevin, some things must be done by someone."
The man sat across from him, his cold features softened in the reflection of the glass table.
"It's not that we want to change; we are being pushed by this world. In Aponia words, we are driven by fate, walking a destined path."
Kevin opened his mouth, devoid of feeling: "Do you believe in the fate Aponia sees?"
"I don't."
"..."
"If a vast conviction and the towers we build can be summarized by a single word like 'fate,' then the world is left with nothing but slaves—slaves to destiny." The man looked up, gazing into the distance. "Would you believe that everything you persist in, and all those who sacrificed themselves, are merely part of a prearranged fate?"
Kevin already had his answer at that moment.
He wouldn't believe it. Even if he saw it with his own eyes or heard it with his own ears, to him, it would only be a false illusion.
"I've met many people over the years—Delta, Anna, the Chairman, Yama, Himeko... some died because of Herrschers, some became Herrschers. But they truly lived, as humans."
"They believed that what they were doing was something someone had to do, so they stepped onto 'fate' without a second thought and never looked back, even until death arrived."
"If my turn comes, my only hope is that you can survive."
Kevin heard an unbelievable sentence. How could that man say such a thing...
"You are the hope of humanity. As long as you are still alive and still fighting, humanity is not finished. So... run if you must, hide if you must, but keep living."
"You are different from a Human-Made defect like me. I believe that one day, sooner or later, you will surpass the Honkai itself."
The man spoke matter-of-factly yet powerfully. Kevin didn't know how to answer him, how to respond to that expectation.
Did that man not know that he was actually the spider's thread for many people?
Standing on tiptoe, reaching out to grasp the thread—to many, he was that very existence.
"I've also thought seriously about what to do after the Honkai ends. The first thing would probably be to bury those people."
"Those people?"
"In the drawer of my room."
The man seemed much more relaxed after saying it, a sliver of color returning to his dark eyes. "I will watch over them until the day I lie down in there too."
"You've really been saying ominous things lately."
"On the contrary, you seem to be looking up a bit. To be honest, being icy doesn't suit you."
The two seemed to have returned to high school, talking in a tone that felt like lighthearted banter.
"Then what will you take to the grave with you? Your helmet?"
"I don't need it. I'll donate my body. I'll leave the helmet and the pistol to you." The man picked up the helmet from the table and walked over. "Want to try it on now?"
"No need, it's too stuffy, and there are ultra-lightweight versions..."
"You'll know once you try it."
The man put the helmet on Kevin head without further ado.
In the excellent soundproofing and the pitch-black isolation of the helmet, he could only hear his own cold breathing. His consciousness was like a small boat in a raging sea, liable to capsize at any moment.
Until the man turned on the helmet's system. Through the bright visual window, Kevin saw the man's mouth curve upward in a nearly invisible smile.
"Don't worry. Even if I die, I will always be by your side."
Kevin put the helmet on his head.
Compared to the lightweight terminals, the complex systems, redundant functions, and unfiltered, unintegrated information in this helmet made Kevin very uncomfortable. He was better at using his own power than relying on these external forces.
However, he realized that the man simply had no other choice.
That man couldn't possess Kevin power; all he could do was continuously train and amplify the areas Kevin ignored.
The worlds the two of them saw were not the same.
"Don't worry. Even if I die, I will always be by your side."
The figure vanished from his sight.
Kevin shut down the helmet's system.
Darkness enveloped him, and he could only hear his own breathing.
National Day Special: The Spider's Thread (Part 3)
"Area E, No. 697, half-axis side-swivel."
In the vast workshop, there was only one person's voice.
"Area G, No. 479, level placement after half-axis forward-swivel."
She was assembling a massive object according to the blueprints in her hand. Perhaps not wanting sweat to soak into her hat, she was rarely without her top hat; her idiosyncratic hair fluttered amidst the biting sounds of mechanical gears.
"Doctor Vil-V, you have not rested or eaten for over twenty-nine hours. I suggest you rest immediately."
The person who was humming a cheerful tune stopped her hands, looking quite troubled by an error on the blueprint. Upon hearing the words of the mechanical girl floating in the air beside her, she smiled and shook her head: "Ah, No. 17, can't you learn from your sister? I still prefer the style of the first model."
"..."
"Fine, fine, I'll rest, okay? I just had a burst of inspiration, so I worked a bit longer than usual. Every one of my previous projects took much longer than this..."
Vil-V grumbled to herself as she walked out of the Spiral Workshop. As the only "human" left, the lights in the workshop dimmed, leaving the mechanical girl alone inside.
"Yo! So early? You're here to eat too?"
Vil-V sat across from Kevin, a tray of food in hand, a bright smile on her charming face.
"How rare. I heard from Mei that you usually like to eat instant noodles. How did you find the time to eat in the cafeteria today?"
There were many empty seats in the cafeteria; the vast empty space behind Vil-V alone was enough for her to change seats with every bite.
But she didn't want to go anywhere else.
Kevin ate the food on his tray silently. Although it had long since been frozen into blocks of meat by his chill, he still chewed and swallowed them wordlessly.
Only after finishing the meat in his mouth did Kevin calmly look up at the smiling Vil-V: "Aren't you the same?"
"Me? I just came out to eat because I had some free time. Unlike you busy people, I'm quite relaxed and happy."
"Are you okay?"
"I'm great. I feel like my inspiration is endless. The 'Engineer' only needs to draw the blueprints, and she can leave the rest of the process to me. I feel like I'm going to steal her job."
Vil-V eating posture and movements were very exaggerated, in line with her usual theatricality. After finishing her meal with satisfaction, she stood up and stretched: "Mm... full of energy! Well then, I'm heading back to work!"
"...He wouldn't want to see you like this."
"..."
Vil-V expression suddenly changed. She turned her head and gave Kevin a look that was unfamiliar and aggressive, but Kevin had already calmly lowered his head to continue eating.
Her look vanished in an instant as if it were an illusion. She gave a cheerful wave: "I'm not like you guys. I'm a genius; how could I be as sentimental as a 'commoner'?"
"This is the project results report. Sometimes I wonder if we at Fire Moth have too many projects. The R&D department alone sends out hundreds every quarter. We, the saviors of humanity, are busier than office workers."
Vil-V sat carelessly at Mei's desk, where Mei was reviewing documents. She placed the thick stack of papers on top of a pile that was taller than a person. Mei gave them a brief glance and nodded slightly.
"Don't push yourself too hard."
"Haha, you should tell yourself that. I've never seen you rest; you work harder than I do, and I'm a MANTIS." She ran a hand through her hair, her smile as bright as sunlight. "Someone would be worried about your health; he's just too icy to speak up."
"He would be perfectly fine speaking up, and I would listen to him. But you—you're the one who won't listen."
"Having a unique personality is the prerogative of a genius."
"Is it because that 'icy' person who would care for you is gone?"
"..."
Tick-tock.
The clock on the desk moved forward, second by second.
It would never turn back. Even if someone smashed it or spun its hands backward, it would never change a thing.
In the river of flowing time, Vil-V still had a wide smile on her face.
"He really was useless, leaving so early. I thought I'd be first." Her mouth opened and closed unconsciously; a stiff, numb expression appeared as if in a performance. "He wouldn't want to see us sad, so why act so heartbroken? Isn't it better to just let things take their course like me?"
People always die; it's only a matter of time.
Vil-V saw through it clearly. Life is a grand magic trick—it has its climax, and naturally, it has its curtain call. Even she couldn't make a magic trick go on forever.
So, to live with clarity, to live in solitude, to live happily—that is what a genius who understands the truth of life should do.
Furthermore, she knew exactly what that man would want to do and say. Long ago, when that flirtatious idiot was chatting so happily with so many girls at the ball, she had already analyzed the essence of their relationship. She saw clearly that a man like him, once he reached his limit, would surely disperse like fireworks.
He understood this very well himself, so he lived to the best of his ability, pulling his "spider's thread" taut so that everyone could grasp him, until the day it snapped.
Yes! As long as everything was rehearsed in her mind, it would be fine!
After all, she was never so greedy as to hope that others wouldn't grasp that thread; she only needed to lean on it for a little bit...
Just a little bit.
Pushing open the door, the pitch-black Spiral Workshop was still cold and lonely, just as it was when she left.
Vil-V didn't turn on the lights. She kept her head down, walking slowly past the floating Prometheus No. 17. The eyes of the idling No. 17 lit up with color, asking mechanically: "Doctor Vil-V, do you wish to continue project development?"
"..."
The corners of Vil-V mouth quirked. She snapped her fingers, and the lights came on: "Of course. How could I, Vil-V, stop here!"
"..."
"..."
No. 17 quietly watched the back of the figure turned away from her. As usual, the girl picked up a blueprint and prepared to...
"Doctor, there is no one else here."
Drip.
Vil-V turned with a smile: "What do you mean, no one else—"
Drip.
She looked down in shock at a corner of the blueprint that had been wetted. For some reason, her vision had blurred. She gave a small, forced laugh and wiped her eyes: "What's going on..."
The top hat she usually wore had fallen to the floor from a corner of the room. She froze, looking at the hat that man had given her.
Drip, drip, drip...
Her hand stopped at her cheek.
Two clear trails slid down the side of her face. She stared blankly at No. 17 as transparent liquid dripped from her chin.
Her body suddenly lost all strength, and she collapsed to the floor. The smile on her face twisted uncontrollably and vanished as she covered her face with trembling hands...
"Mmph... uwaaaaahhh—"
The suppressed, agonizing wail echoed far out from the Spiral Workshop...
Vanishing into the untouchable shore beyond...
National Day Special: The Spider's Thread (Part 4)
"Do you understand this mission?"
"Do you understand this..."
"Do you..."
His legs wouldn't stop shaking. A sense of world-weariness brewed in his heart. He clenched his hands together over his lap; a nauseating surge of gastric juice felt like it might burst from his throat at any second.
Shut up.
"Do you..."
Stop talking.
"Do you..."
Unable to restrain the erupting emotion, he raised his hand and slammed it into the communicator—
Kosma gripped the communicator expressionlessly, replying as if tearing his own throat: "Understood."
"Kosma, your fused Honkai Beast, 'Vishnu,' has been reclassified as a Judgment-class beast. Given its characteristics, it may be classified as the second Terminus-class beast in the future."
"But after your first Active Reaction, Vishnu's genes will fully awaken. If you don't continue to devour Honkai Beasts, Vishnu's genes will gradually devour you."
Mobius twirled her pen, sitting under the dim light of a desk lamp, wearing a meaningful smile.
"So, you have two choices now..."
"He only has one choice."
A heavy bass voice interrupted Mobius sinister words. The man entered wearing his helmet and glanced at the two. Pointing at Kosma, he said, "Kosma, you are forbidden from direct contact with Doctor Mobius from now on. All future contact must be conducted under my supervision."
The sinister smile on Mobius face vanished: "Wait, why!"
"It is my judgment that you wish to experiment with Active Reaction technology on Kosma. Since that technology is uncontrollable, a valuable MANTIS cannot be used as a lab rat."
"If we don't experiment with Active Reaction on a MANTIS, then who?"
"Cats, dogs, white mice... whatever you like." The man folded his arms, speaking quite casually. "I will monitor you. I won't let you just carve up the people around you."
"Who gave you the authority?"
"The higher-ups."
"..."
Mobius gritted her teeth and glared at the indifferent man. She squeezed a sentence through her teeth: "Then you'd better watch out. Don't fall into my hands."
"Haven't I already fallen into your hands?"
Leaving those words behind, the man left with the confused Kosma.
"Kosma, I have some things I want to tell you."
As the man turned away, his low voice followed immediately.
The transport plane came to a halt. Kosma heard the scattered sound of rain on the aircraft. After a moment of silence, he reached out with an arm that looked like a demon's claw and grabbed a weapon leaning against the cabin wall.
A black and white lance.
When Kosma gripped the weapon, he paused for a moment, staring at the engravings on its pristine white body.
As if life were blooming upon it.
"Abyss Flower. If nothing goes wrong, it will be given to you to use in the future."
Kosma froze, looking at the back of the man standing in front of him. He hadn't expected the man to say such a thing.
The meaning of Abyss Flower to that man was much more than just a weapon.
"But this is... the Divine Key from the Sixth Herrscher's core..."
"Kevin is using the Seventh Herrscher's core; is there a problem?"
"..."
Kosma didn't know how the man could say these things so calmly. If it were him, he probably couldn't have managed it.
"Abyss Flower can suppress the Vishnu factors in your body. After consideration, it is more suitable as your weapon than mine." The man spoke in a businesslike tone. "Unless in an emergency, Fire Moth doesn't need a MANTIS who is prone to losing control."
"..."
"Do you have a lot you want to say?"
The man seemed to see through the small thoughts in Kosma mind. Having his nature—liking to overthink but not liking to speak—exposed gave him a start.
Kosma hesitated and lowered his head to think for a while, then he seemed to resolve something: "Fire Moth..."
"Wait a moment."
The man's gloved hand clamped over his mouth. He then grabbed him by the back of the neck and brought him all the way back to the room, finding and removing every listening device inside and out.
"Do you know that in ancient times, you couldn't speak the emperor's name directly, or you'd be beheaded?" The man spoke up only after finishing all this. "Fire Moth is slightly better; they won't play 'Elimination' with your family tree, but once certain words are spoken, they represent your betrayal of Fire Moth."
"Then forget it." Upon hearing that, Kosma decided not to speak.
"But it's fine as long as they can't hear."
"..."
How to put it... it was a subtle feeling of "following the rules, but not really."
"What kind of organization do you think Fire Moth really is? I feel lost regarding our goals and what we are to do next."
Deep uncertainty about the future appeared in Kosma eyes—not stemming from the past, but from the things that were about to happen, things he already knew.
"I believe Fire Moth is saving humanity, yet it conducts non-human experiments, sends soldiers to their deaths, and immediately suppresses any different voices."
"Is what we've done up to now truly right?"
"Will the things we do in the future truly be things we are willing to do..."
The man listened in silence to Kosma confusion, his whispered murmurs, and those words full of both pain and struggle.
The things... he himself had once pondered deeply.
"...Kosma, the world isn't black and white. Even a piece of paper has a side besides its front and back." The man instructed him in the tone of someone who had been through it all. "You are much like me, chasing 'the best of both worlds,' not wanting to choose in any choice—just wanting to give your all to complete it, just wanting to keep improving your abilities..."
"Is that wrong?"
"No... it surely isn't wrong."
The man gently stroked Kosma horned head. Incredibly, Kosma—who had always felt he was grown up and shouldn't let others touch his head—felt that his touch was so gentle, like the care of an elder.
"Just like Abyss Flower, black and white exist simultaneously. Chasing the coexistence of both is not a reason for one to be called naive."
"But..."
"But?"
That day, the man shook his head gently at him but said nothing.
The youth sat in the cabin of the transport plane, his face smeared with the blood of Honkai Beasts, watching the sunset until darkness finally filled the earth.
He gripped that weapon.
At some point, it had become a weapon of immense significance to him.
From "that day" onward, he could no longer separate this composite weapon, as if it were forever fixed on that day.
"Lin, what did you really want to say that day... if only we could have finished our conversation..."
The youth who chased the best of both worlds, as the night arrived, reminisced about that day when he got the worst of both.