MTL - First Player-Chapter 757 seven hundred and fifty-five

  Chapter 757 Seven hundred and fifty-fifth · "Pioneer Immortal (3

   Akto's impression on Su Ming'an has always been the pinnacle of human wisdom - all kinds of rhetoric are piled up on Akto's body, no matter how complicated it is.

   However, I don't know why - in this memory, Su Mingan felt that Akto was just a young man who was bound by responsibility to the point where he couldn't breathe, and was very similar to himself.

   Maybe because he looked at Akto mostly from the perspective of historical records and bystanders.

  No one can get close to his heart.

  …

  【In the trolley problem, the hated person is always the one pulling the trolley pole, not the trolley that ran over your life. 】

  【Only when you know very little, cognition will not produce contradictions. 】

  【But I know everything. 】

  【So I will replace people, take the initiative to face conflicts, and bear the pain for the ignorant. 】

   Sitting at the wooden table again, you write a diary. Today is the 87th day of the war.

  You have become a devout belief of the people.

  Your speech is always passionate and contagious, your words are always demagogic, the people around you are always in an endless stream, and every time the war ends, you encourage people to never give up.

You are gradually accustomed to names such as "God" and "Incarnation of the Will of the World". You sit in this position and use your reputation and fame to allocate resources, command the army, and push the lives of soldiers to the right position to sacrifice for the sake of "Most Survival".

  More and more deaths make you silent, except for calls and appeals, you hardly say a word to those you know well.

  You are getting farther and farther away from normal human beings, your personality is completely alienated, your emotions become indifferent, even if you laugh, you feel that this is guilt for the deceased.

  Noah's white bird rubs lightly on your shoulder, half of your diary has been written.

   Under the dim light, your brows and eyes are dim.

  …

  【I should face up to sin, but not indulge in it, because I accepted the position of "God". 】

  【“God” cannot be dominated by emotion, I need to look at the overall situation with absolute rationality. 】

  【I am Asa Aktor. 】

  【The co-owner of mankind, the embodiment of civilization, the will of the world. 】

  【I need to hypnotize myself like this. 】

  【Until the war is completely over. 】

  【There are always people who love me because of my strength. 】

  【There are also people who hate me for my decisions. 】

  【It doesn’t matter, I will treat their disgust and joy equally. Because Xi said...only I am the most suitable for this position. 】

  【You can't stay away, you can't dodge, you can't escape. 】

  …

   "—Why did you make such a decision! Are their lives so worthless in your eyes?"

   "—Why did you watch Shanshan die! Do you still feel pain? Do you remember their names?"

   "—Did you feel a little guilty in your heart when you made the decision to detonate that whole city? Would you cry for the residents who died in the city?"

  Under the clear sky, when you finished a speech, several hoarse civilians rushed up.

   "Bold! How dare you disrespect the leader!" The soldiers pushed them away, and you just raised your hand to stop the soldiers and let these civilians rush in front of you.

   In the face of challenge, you explain the decision in rational words:

   "That's right, according to the situation in Karl TC City, the reactionary forces have occupied three-quarters of the Kinsey neighborhood..."

   Then, you comfort each other with emotional words:

   "I deeply regret the loss of your family members. I also lost many compatriots in this war. Please believe..."

   Their expressions changed from anger, to confusion, to sadness, and began to sob.

   Finally, these people hug your sleeves and cry.

   "I'm sorry, Lord God."

   "Lord God, we have only you, only you..."

   You consoled them and left the podium.

  People always believe in you in times of desperation. As the person pulling the tram pole, you always carry the thorns in their sight.

   They don't consider your position, they don't weigh your decisions. There are even people who want to assassinate you, thinking that as long as you die, their relatives will be able to come back.

  In their eyes, they only have you.

  —but who else can you cry on your sleeve?

   When you are exhausted, you take out your journal.

  【Don't care, don't complain. 】

  【Being content with the status quo is the last bottom line for those who have not completely surrendered. 】

  【The process is just the words of philosophers and historians. Who can put themselves in the shoes of myself, what should I do now? 】

  【No one can. No one can be Asa Aktor. 】

  【No one can put on my shoes and think about things from my point of view. They can't see the continuation of civilization, they just scold me for pulling the tram pole. 】

  【What does it matter? 】

  【Talking is an ode to mediocrity for mediocrity. 】

   After writing this, you face the diary.

  You find that the paper is soaked with an unknown liquid, and you don't want to admit that it was tears.

  You sit numbly in your chair.

   is like a solidified shell.

  …

   On the 132nd day of the war, you took out the dawn system.

   This is what you got during the Cataclysm of the Century. Once it is turned on, mankind will begin the journey of dimensionality reduction, and there will be no way out.

  The number of humans has plummeted, and you have to consider whether to turn it on - it's a dangerous move. Human beings are very likely to descend again and again on this road of dimensionality reduction, and even extinction of civilization.

   You thought about whether to enable the dawn system for a long time, and finally called your eight companions and held a meeting.

   "Guys, should we turn it on?"

  You sit first on the long table, holding a blood-red heart in your hand.

The   Dawn system is a Pandora's box. If it is opened, it means that human beings will completely retreat from the [3D] and hide in the [2D] collectively. Zhuang Zhou dreams of a butterfly, a butterfly dreams of Zhuang Zhou. Humans are equivalent to sinking into an unreal dream. They have changed from lingering human beings to butterflies stepping into a new spring.

   Butterflies moved and danced, no one saw the world outside the cage, only the flowers decorated on the cage were in their eyes.

   This is a beautiful and cruel fantasy that you weaved with your own hands.

   Your companions discussed it and decided to leave the choice to you.

   You cannot make decisions, you can only temporarily seal the dawn system.

   In the shadows, you slit your left arm, an act that gives you peace.

  …

   The 143rd day of the war.

  You make many decisions by yourself, hiding from your companions and forever alone. Just like they don't know, to open the dawn system, what is needed is your life.

   "Asa, when the war is settled, we will see a lot of scenery in the future."

   Hearing this voice, you hurriedly closed the "Dawn System Plan" in front of you to avoid letting the other party see it.

   A gentle young man with blue hair walked in front of you, his azure blue eyes staring at you. This young man is Kai.

   However, Qi didn't know that in your plan, if the dawn system was turned on, you would die, and there was no "future" carefully planned in Kai's mouth.

   "Okay." You said: "There will be a lot of beautiful scenery."

   "When the time comes, I want to hear you play the piano." Kai sat beside you and handed you a chocolate popsicle.

  You realize that it is already summer. You now even forget the changing seasons.

  Qi always likes to send you something sweet, such as chocolate, lemon candy, ice cream, he says it will make you feel better.

   He is a very gentle person who loves to laugh and talk, and always makes you feel relaxed. In the League, he was an excellent diplomat.

   "I can't play the piano anymore," you respond.

  Your heart...it seems to have become a wasteland.

  Art, music, emotion…

"It's ok."

He says:

   "I can play the chord for you as long as you like. When the war ends, I hope you can listen carefully to the wind in the spring. The sound of nature is better than any musical instrument."

   His voice is like the melting moonlight, making people feel the sweetness of honey.

   "Okay." You make a false promise to him.

   After he left, you looked at his back.

   The blood-colored sunlight fell on the interface you reopened, and a line of "Dawn System Sacrifice Plan" glowed with blood-gold thorns.

  “…”

   You are silent, press your fingers on the keyboard, and continue to improve the text structure of the [2D] world.

  If you didn't come up with the dawn system, you might really do it - when the war is over, you and your companions will travel together in spring and spend the rest of your life together in peace.

   You actually thought so.

   I really hoped so.

  You pull open your sleeves, and there are hundreds of dense cuts on your arms.

  …

  【The thing I regret the most is that my feelings about the world are not enough. I haven’t experienced more stories, experienced more people’s feelings, and seen more scenery. 】

  【I am nineteen years old. 】

  【I can't remember the appearance of the first person who died in front of my eyes. 】

   On the 176th day of the war, you started taking medicine.

   This is a "mental stabilization potion" developed by Tretia, which can help you maintain your best mental outlook and prevent people from being seen as tired.

  The gods do not allow weariness, you know this well.

   You will often clench the hand of the dying, close the eyes of the deceased, whisper the name on the tombstone, and take away their last wishes and hatred.

  In the long war, your world seems to have only one concept of "death" left - "about to die", "not yet dead", "just dead", "dead for a long time"...

  Everyone is walking on a road to "death", and you stand by, empty-handed, unable to hold anyone.

  —Obviously already used to seeing death, yet still so sad. No matter how many times you witness this kind of thing, you can't be unmoved.

   "Why are you looking at me like this?"

  One day, when you were collecting the remains of the dead, you looked wearily at the side of Xi. You notice that she doesn't look right at you.

  Xi's black pupils widened slightly, she answered you:

   "You only have death in your eyes, Aktor."

  You blinked, mouth open, unable to say a word, your throat suddenly choked up.

   After witnessing so many deaths, there is only one "death" left on you.

  The surviving life dissipates like a firefly. Some people lose their lives before they even actually have their own.

  Every life is like a heavy weight. You regard them as sins you have committed, carry them on your back, and walk down deep and shallow.

  You smiled every day, comforted her a few words, and turned around.

  No one sees the desolation on your face.

  You gritted your teeth and buried your head between your knees where no one saw you, as if your body was about to be crushed by tears.

   But how can you cry...

   Leaders cannot cry...

  …

   "Noah, are you afraid that I will forget you?"

   On the 182nd day of the war, you sat in a pavilion full of wisteria and asked Noah.

   "I'm afraid." Noah said, his eyes were like blue sea nebulae: "Although I don't agree with your ideas, I like you as a person."

  Noah has lost a lot of weight, and there is still pride in his eyebrows and eyes.

  You notice that the distance between him and you is getting farther and farther.

  Noah was an inherently proud man with a solid definition of his ideas and will. His unruly and fighting spirit is in his soul, and your ideals are turning away from him.

   "I used to respect you very much, but I don't know why, now I'm a little afraid of you." Noah said.

   "Become such a person, let you down." You said: "I'm very sorry."

  Flowing water and wind in the virtual influence of the courtyard are like hanging vine leaves. In the silence, there is only the echo of the two of you.

   His hand stroked the white bird in his arms, turned around, and walked away from you completely.

   You don't know where he went.

   Maybe he went to his ideal Gensokyo.

   (8/9)

  …

   The 204th day of the war.

  Your black hair is long and cut, cut and long, the emotions in your eyes are getting more and more indifferent, and more and more source light is gathered on your body, like a pair of platinum wings.

   Every time you fight to the point of exhaustion, you will repeat the names of your companions. Most are living companions.

   Later, you have no name to pronounce.

  You can order everyone to fight for you, or you can watch them die for it. You bear the guilt of watching these burning resentments. Human civilization has not ended, the bones of countless people push you to walk.

  —but you will always remember that day.

  The silver-haired woman fell into the fire, like a broken glass bottle, her limbs were torn off, Bai Sensen's bones were exposed, and the oil paint written on her face clearly expressed the enemy's malice towards her. It reads "This woman submits to sinners, so be damned".

   It was the people she saved who killed her.

   She was killed because she was your companion.

   "I haven't...haven't found...my love."

   Her face looked up to the sky, her eyes were filled with helplessness and confusion, as if she did not understand why she was pierced through her body. Cruel humanity tore her apart.

   How fragile humans are.

   A little malice, a piece of sharp metal, can destroy a person. Their numbers are so huge, and the individuals are so small.

   Looking at Yue's corpse, it was as if something had broken in the bottom of your heart. The smell of wine on the ground makes you cough violently, choking on tears.

   "Why do I have to carry so many undead?"

   You can't help but think.

   "Why should I see purgatory like this?"

   "Why make me... such a 'god'?"

  You pursed your lips tightly, and locked your heart palpitations and shouts with claws and claws in your chest, and the blood from your whole body seemed to flow out.

   As if his soul had been taken away, his breathing was a little tight, and his temples throbbed wildly.

  The gods can't cry, you finished the wine collection and got drunk all night in a pool of blood.

  You buried her under the moonlight and sprinkled wine on her tombstone.

   (7/9)

   (end of this chapter)