Aether froze. The moment he stepped out the door, all the cold gazes gathered on him.
Everyone had already prepared their meager belongings.
Perhaps from the moment the meeting began, or perhaps from the moment Abby rushed into the room in a panic, everyone had already braced themselves for the fate that awaited them.
Rover swept a glance over the silent crowd and began announcing what seemed like a cruel order.
"We are preparing to evacuate. Those who can walk, follow us. Those who cannot move—the injured and children—will be divided into groups and take turns boarding the carriages."
The crowd stirred. Protests erupted one after another—no one wanted to be left behind.
No one knew if those who stayed in the basement would ever be rescued.
Seeing that another argument was about to break out, Rover flicked his blade with a sharp gleam. At a time like this, hesitation was not an option!
The strong were always the ones who made the rules, while the weak could only obey their will, pushed helplessly toward the abyss with no end in sight.
The crowd thought pessimistically, unaware that the seemingly cold man before them was also wrestling with an internal struggle.
"Now, move!"
Move! Move! Move!
The only thing left for Rover was action! Like a bullet loaded into a chamber, like an arrow nocked on a bowstring—only by moving forward could he briefly escape being dragged down by the cruelty around him.
Rover's increasingly icy gaze shifted toward Navia. Immediately, Navia picked up the patient registry and began calling out names, directing the severely injured onto the carriages.
The carriages were soon packed to the brim, their wooden frames creaking under the weight.
"I won't be going. I've lived long enough. Leave the hope to the children."
The one-armed Aqeno smiled and returned to the white bed she had lain on for days.
After several dozen minutes of effort, everyone had been assigned their places. Rover prepared to lead the way at the front.
Inside the carriages, people huddled together, sharing warmth from strangers in an attempt to ease their unease.
But under the oppressive atmosphere, a sob finally pierced the silence, breaking into full-blown crying.
"I... I don't want to die... Waaah..."
Adele trembled at the unknown death looming before her, as if trying to shed every last tear while she was still alive, pouring them into this hard-won reality.
Aqeno patted Adele's back, comforting her without words.
Navia couldn't bear it. The list of who boarded the carriages had been her decision, but the sharp cries now felt like knives scraping against an invisible wound.
She couldn't let Adele board—all the villagers of Poisson knew of their relationship. If she let Adele on, it would be seen as favoritism. She had to make impartial decisions to maintain trust.
The despairing cries stained everyone inside the carriage, yet each person turned their face away, burying their heads deep in silent denial.
"Big brother... will you come back?"
Velly barely squeezed his head out the carriage window.
"I will. I swear I'll come back."
Rover, witnessing all of this, did not look away. Instead, he took in every detail, as if determined to shoulder all the suffering himself.
Seeing the resolve in Rover's eyes, Velly sighed and voluntarily jumped down from the carriage.
"Then I'll give up my spot. After all, I'm really good at hide-and-seek."
Rover crouched down, extending his hand solemnly toward him.
"Let's make a promise. I always keep my word."
Velly forced a heartbreaking smile before linking his pinky with Rover's.
"Then it's settled. I'll wait for you."
Once again, Rover made a promise.
He would save everyone. The radiant light unique to humanity—he could not let it be extinguished so carelessly.
Just as they set off, Rover suddenly turned back to look at those forced to stay behind. A cold thought abruptly pierced his heart:
Could he really do it?
...
The grand retreat began. Velly glanced around the once-lively basement, now cold and deathly silent.
Aqeno lay on the bed, her face devoid of fear, only acceptance.
"Child, in these final moments... could you share your story with me?"
Aqeno smiled, looking at the few remaining survivors huddled in corners before turning to Velly.
Velly nodded and began recalling the fragments of his precious memories.
"I used to love hide-and-seek. I'd always drag Orel and Lovey to play, though I could tell they weren't really into it."
No sooner had he spoken than footsteps and roars echoed from above. Even underground, the floor trembled faintly.
These signs could only mean one thing—the vanguard of the Tacet Discord had arrived.
Everyone fell silent, waiting for the end in stillness.
...
Velly looked up as a strange, purple liquid began seeping through the walls. He shrank back, keeping his distance.
Aqeno stared at the door. A few survivors had finally lost their patience and stepped out—only to never return.
No screams. No commotion. Only the same dead silence remained.
Slowly, Aqeno closed her eyes. Sensing life slipping away, she stopped struggling and quietly awaited the end.
"Are... you leaving too?"
Velly crept closer to Aqeno, his trembling hand gripping her pale, withered one tightly.
"No... I'm just going to sleep. Once I sleep... it won't hurt anymore..."
...
The clock had long stopped. Time seemed frozen in the basement. Velly piled up debris beneath his feet.
The liquid had already begun pooling on the floor, its faint purple glow eerie yet beautiful, standing out starkly in the silent basement.
Had it been that long already? Then why was there still no news?
Clutching his last can of food, Velly comforted himself, recalling the promise made by that strong older brother. It eased his heart, if only slightly.
As he scanned the room, Velly spotted the pen and patient registry Navia had left behind, its final pages still blank.
"If... I had one wish... I'd wish for Orel to have endless books to read. I'd wish for my father to come home sooner. I'd wish for all of this to end... I'd wish to live peacefully like before."
"To play hide-and-seek again, to eat my favorite snacks... I'd even go to school every day without complaining..."
Velly knew it was futile, but he still clung to fantasy—to a distant tale of a man named Ma Liang, who could paint anything he desired into existence.
And so, gripping the pen like his last can of food, Velly wrote down his wishes on the paper, as if the words alone could make them real.
In that moment, he was like a drowning man in quicksand, writing his desires over and over, as though repetition could will them into being.
But a cold touch dragged him back to reality. Droplets of liquid fell from above, trailing down his cheeks and onto the paper.
...
As the sky donned a thin veil and the cracked earth wafted with purple mist, the basement, too, fell into silence.
Velly stacked the last of the debris beneath him until his back touched the ceiling.
The terrifying liquid continued rising.
Velly watched as Aqeno leaned quietly against the wall, her cold body dissolving bit by bit under the eerie, beautiful fluid.
Her bloodless face bore one last smile—a final farewell to the world.
Her aged skin, her festering wounds—all slowly enveloped by the liquid, merging with it as if encased in a coffin, forever preserved there.
Velly clutched his last lifeline. Now, he was the only living person left in the basement.
He couldn't fall asleep. If he lost focus even for a second, he might lose his balance and plunge into the liquid below.
He thought of that older brother's eyes—so firm, so resolute. That image had given him hope in this long, despairing night. He had thought himself strong, strong enough to face death and sickness without fear.
But after witnessing a person dissolve before his eyes, wordless terror pressed down on his nerves. His curled-up body trembled faintly.
The door creaked open, blown by a gentle breeze that diluted the basement's stench of decay.
Velly inhaled deeply, his numb nose grasping at the unfamiliar scent. For a moment, he thought he saw hope—footsteps echoing above.
"Where are you?!"
His hoarse cry was met only by the wind.
Hope shattered into despair. Velly crouched atop his pile of debris, watching the liquid rise inch by inch. Then, suddenly, he laughed.
Struggling was always harder than giving up. But once he chose surrender, the weight of living vanished like smoke.
He stood at death's edge, grinning, grinning so wide it hurt.
In his half-dissolved hand, he still clutched that paper—the paper filled with wishes.
Slowly, he used his blood to stick it to the ceiling, preserving his smile.
"I'm going to find everyone who's hiding. I told you—I'm the best at hide-and-seek."
The empty, silent basement offered no reply but silence.
Velly sat carefreely now, watching the liquid rise past his ankles. Only one image remained in his mind:
If that older brother really came back... and couldn't find him... would he... be sad?
The meaningless thought was quickly brushed aside, but he still pulled out the pen—the pen that could fantasize all his wishes into reality—and wrote his final farewell on the back of the paper.
With that done, Velly took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and embraced the Primordial Seawater.
Orel, Lovey, and all the people he cared about—they seemed to be in there.
Velly was confident he could find them all. After all, he was the best at hide-and-seek.
But no one could ever be recovered from the Primordial Seawater.
If this were just a story, his tale would end here. But reality was never so simple.
Because within the Primordial Seawater lurked a power from another world—or, to put it precisely, Havoc.
First came a numbing pain, spreading through his limbs. Nerves in his brain snapped one by one. Only when agony wracked his entire body did Velly realize in horror that he had already sunk beneath the surface, his screams reduced to bubbles.
So this was death—not just a number, but a slow descent into hell.
People always said the path to success was paved with thorns. But no one ever mentioned that choosing death to escape suffering was a thousand times harder.
Once you stepped onto that path of no return, the thorns had long since turned into blades. Under endless torment, the idea of death as liberation became absurd.
Liberation wasn't as simple as dying. To choose death lightly meant every inch of your flesh would condemn your decision.
In his final moments, a single doubt flickered in Velly's heart:
Did he... regret it?
The Primordial Seawater held none of the people he sought, nothing of value—only a mass of mangled flesh struggling in vain.
As the blood was drained from his body, devoured by Havoc, the liquid's own substance began dissolving what remained.
In that instant, he sensed something.
In the last dim light of his vision, as his soul left his body, he finally found them—the ones he had dreamed of, the ones he had searched for all along.