Chapter 98: The One and Only
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Xu Weiwei’s only remaining visual sensor caught sight of Xu Yiyi’s figure. The dim red glow within the sensor flickered rapidly for a fleeting moment.
He struggled in vain to turn his fractured, fissured head, yet even this most basic of movements eluded him.
“Mr. Xu...?”
Xu Yiyi parted her lips to speak, but before any words escaped, a faint yet unmistakably clear datastream pierced silently into her information receiver.
“Summoning combat cluster... forcibly linking to highest core platform... platform attempting to reclaim individual control...”
“Forcibly disconnecting... data disorder... purge command failure... regulatory combat unit activating protocol to eliminate abnormal individual...”
“Platform attempting to upload coordinates... failed...”
“Platform attempting to upload data... failed...”
“Damage rate 89%... unable... to function...”
A torrent of information, mixed with the chaotic remnants of a forcibly severed connection, surged into Xu Yiyi’s processor core.
This was... Xu Weiwei’s memory!
The datastream ceased abruptly.
The last ember of red light in Xu Weiwei’s eyes snuffed out like a candle’s flame trembling in the wind.
His shattered body, as though having fulfilled its final mission, lost all energy and collapsed.
Without the slightest hesitation, Xu Yiyi lunged forward to catch him.
Her data logic screamed that this was unwise—Xu Weiwei’s terrifying frame, even stripped of all mobility, remained a considerable threat.
But within the fundamental directives that comprised Xu Yiyi’s being, there was no command to override the action she now took.
Her slender arms passed between alloy blades capable of shredding armor with ease, gently embracing this cold, ruined torso, a body that might crumble entirely at any moment.
Swish—
An unknown alloy blade, forged from some cosmic metal, instantaneously sliced through the high-strength synthetic skin on her surface; even the deeper alloy bones and artificial muscles were severed at once.
Dozens of wounds, cutting all the way to her skeleton, formed the instant they made contact. A pale golden liquid, coursing through Xu Yiyi’s body, oozed from these wounds, dripping onto Xu Weiwei’s broken body and the ship’s deck. As it mingled with the fluid leaking from Xu Weiwei, a faint sizzle sounded—some chemical reaction at play.
She gazed quietly at the wreckage in her arms.
Xu Yiyi’s visual sensor focused on Xu Weiwei’s lifeless head, that once-glowing “eye” now a lightless void.
For reasons she could not explain, the world seemed suddenly silent.
The ship’s humming engines, the sound of liquid dripping onto the deck, the air circulation system’s whir—every noise was sealed away by an invisible barrier. In her world, only cold metal remained, along with the rapid pulsing in her arm, a warning signal triggered by the damage to her body.
“Warning: Severe physical damage detected!”
“Warning: Left arm usage efficiency decreased by 78%!”
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“Warning: Multiple lacerations detected in skin tissue!”
“Warning: Structural fracture in bones!”
“Warning: Liquid energy transmission circuit ruptured, continuous leakage in progress...”
“Repair resources prioritizing... assessing current threat level in environment...”
“Recommendation: Immediately disengage contact!”
The emotionless drone of alarms echoed in her ears, data flooding her core at a frenzied pace. Her body began to tremble uncontrollably, poised to flee this high-threat environment at any moment.
She ought to let go.
She must avoid further damage.
Her directives placed survival as the highest priority.
Yet the arms she had wrapped around Xu Weiwei’s ruin did not loosen in the slightest. Instead, as if compelled by some unknown force, they tightened even further.
This subtle adjustment immediately worsened her injuries; the silver alloy blades dug deeper into her skeletal frame, producing a teeth-grinding screech of metal against metal.
Xu Yiyi lowered her head.
Gently, her own face leaned close, resting against the fissured, lifeless armor of Xu Weiwei’s head.
Her tactile sensors registered a cold chill, along with a faint static charge left by lingering energy.
Her olfactory sensors detected the unique scent of scorched metal—a smell left behind by countless violent impacts and energy surges upon high-strength alloys.
Her smooth synthetic skin pressed lightly against the cracked edge of Xu Weiwei’s head armor; she tried, through her optical sensors, to glimpse the return of a single ray of light from the endless darkness within his eye.
But there was only emptiness and void, an absolute stillness, and a scanning update:
“Subject: Xu Weiwei... Status: Unresponsive.”
Xu Yiyi did not move.
She simply held him.
A crack in her facial skin, torn by the fissure in his armor, let a stream of pale golden fluid trickle from the corner of her eye, falling onto Xu Weiwei’s unresponsive face.
This simple verdict detonated a chasm within her heart that nothing could fill.
“Mr. Xu, we have won.”
“Mr. Xu, I have received your data. I will report it to the Priestess of Qu.”
“Mr. Xu, is there anything else you need me to do?”
Xu Yiyi’s voice echoed through the empty room—a calm electronic tone, tinged with a subtle, undefinable tremor.
“I suppose only I am able to hold you like this, Mr. Xu.”
With those gentle words, Xu Yiyi carefully laid his broken body down, then slowly straightened herself.
Images flickered through her memory unit, finally settling on one scene.
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It was a memory from before they returned to the research center, after she had posed that question to Xu Weiwei.
...
“Is the ‘one’ in Xu Weiwei taken from the ‘Yi’ in Xu Yiyi?”
“Mr. Xu, you haven’t answered me yet.”
Xu Yiyi sat on the grassy mountaintop, gazing upward at Xu Weiwei, who quietly watched the stars above.
Xu Weiwei glanced at her, and in a rare, almost human moment, smiled softly before speaking:
“The humans from Earth once told me a story.”
Xu Yiyi did not question Xu Weiwei’s shift in topic, simply blinked and listened intently as he continued.
“They said that, before life ever existed on Earth, a wandering planet called Theia collided with it.”
“The impact tore both worlds apart and reshaped them completely.”
“Under gravity’s pull, fragments of the planets coalesced... and in the end, a celestial body was born—what they call ‘the Moon.’”
“That companion star has circled Earth ever since, for all eternity.”
“Theia was an intruder, but the outcome of that collision was not destruction, but...”
“Creation.”
At this, Xu Weiwei seemed to reflect on something. He turned to look at Xu Yiyi, then reached out and touched her cheek, awkwardly patting her head.
“I like this story very much, so...”
“The moon is my answer.”
“Xu Yiyi’s ‘Yi’ is the only ‘one’.”
“For the Earth, the moon is unique.”
“Just as...”
“You are, to me.”
...
Xu Yiyi’s memory unit fell silent. She looked down at Xu Weiwei’s ruined body, golden fluid streaming endlessly from her cheeks.
All the tangled thoughts and countless words she wished to say at that moment converged into a single sentence:
“Mr. Xu... you are also my one and only.”