“…It wasn’t your fault,” Evenheiler thought. He wanted to say it, but as he looked at the man from the side, he found the words caught in his throat.
Facing such a person, what argument could he possibly put forward? What point was there even to make?
“I killed them. I even killed you, Even,” Lei Ting said softly. “I have to admit, part of the motivation behind all these atrocities was my realization that… directly breaking and then rebuilding, while binding your ability to act, was the most convenient choice available to me—even if it was a terrible option for you and for those who were sacrificed.
“At that time, I didn't have the time or energy to engage in a tug-of-war with anyone over any issue. I needed to free up more time and resources to handle other problems.
“Therefore, I killed you and confined you within my world. I even read your memories and found the weaknesses of your comrades from them…”
“Such actions have no justification.”
“I harmed you, violating your life, your safety, and the privacy of your memories. If this behavior were based solely on our respective positions at the time, it might even have been considered ‘friendly’…”
Lei Ting spoke, then suddenly let out a cold, somewhat sorrowful laugh. “…At least I didn't use the Federation military’s most common brainwashing method—taking your brain out, placing it in a machine to create a virtual world just for you, then erasing and domesticating you until you became my tool.”
The content of his words was cruel—cruel enough to make Evenheiler feel a surge of anger.
But the reason for his anger wasn't the Federation’s inhumane methods and technology; it was…
“…But, Even, you are my lover. I… I love you.”
Lei Ting’s voice grew increasingly stiff, increasingly ethereal. It was as if the word ‘love,’ which should have been brighter than sunlight, was something he was ashamed to utter. It was as if he believed that in these times, after everything that had happened, mentioning the word was an insult to the concept itself, and to Evenheiler.
“In the same breath, I harmed my lover and showed favoritism by protecting an enemy. Whether in public or private, there is no justification for this behavior.
“I am no saint, Even…”
*His voice is saturated with pain,* Evenheiler thought.
Then, he saw Lei Ting raise his hand and lift the phantom of that jagged golden laurel crown from his head, extinguishing the halo that had shone behind him for decades.
“Setting aside the power granted to me by the state and my so-called ‘invincible’ abilities, I…”
He held the phantom crown in his hands, slowly closing them, watching as it was crushed into fragments of flowing light within his palms.
“…I am perhaps just a mortal. A mortal with a bit of knowledge and skill.
“Because I have nothing divine or demonic about me. I have only a mundane heart.”
As Lei Ting spoke, he seemed somewhat agitated, pacing back and forth in the sky.
“Longing for peace, enjoying life, having my own expectations and plans… people like that are everywhere! But because of my choices, I took away their lives—even ‘yours’!”
Every time he mentioned his actual deeds, his tone grew heavy with a sudden, violent emotional reaction.
Evenheiler watched him.
He could hear the surging guilt, the pain, and the self-loathing. There was even a profound sense of remorse—and yet, he found no true ‘regret’ regarding the necessity of the events themselves.
The killing, the destruction, the annihilation, the purging of an entire political entity’s territory, nearly the entire galaxy…
“…I did it. That fact is indisputable. Even though I clearly had better options, I chose the path that guaranteed one hundred percent success.
“Using my own established criteria as a baseline, time and time again, I chose the options that violated legal and moral standards.”
Lei Ting spoke, and he even managed a smile, though it was so bitter it was almost painful for Evenheiler to look at.
“If my act of killing innocent people goes unpunished, then none of this can be considered fair.
“And the things I insist upon, promote, and protect will lose their persuasiveness… that would be the greatest loss of all.”
“…………………………”
Evenheiler responded with a long silence.
*If this whole thing happened again, he would probably still choose to shoulder this responsibility,* he thought.
Even though it was clearly too heavy for any single individual to bear.
Finally, he sighed and said, “You’re right. So, Speaker Lei of the Human Union, when do you plan to pass judgment on my crimes?”
“…?”
Lei Ting was stunned. After a moment, he said, “…Now that Morgan has shown a willingness to cooperate with the Federation, and I know his transit papers for the United Starport were actually handled by Oundel… if that is his choice, given that the Resistance hasn't previously—”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” Evenheiler interrupted.
In the howling night wind of the high altitude, the blond man spread his hands calmly and gave a casual shrug.
“You say you’re guilty, that you killed people who shouldn't have been killed… Yes, you were indeed wrong. I’m not going to give you some bullshit like ‘you’re fine, it was necessary.’
“We both know that even if a choice is necessary, denying its gravity is simply not our style…”
Evenheiler waved a hand. “…I think we should be more serious about this. Let’s trace it back to the source and find the root of the problem.”
“That’s a different matter,” Lei Ting said. “The enemy’s actions against us are unforgivable; that is the logic of war. The issues that truly need to be resolved internally lie solely with me—”
“See, you still don’t understand what I mean.” Evenheiler sighed. “Look, you chose to do those things for the Human Union, for every one of us, didn't you?”
This time, Lei Ting understood Evenheiler’s point. He frowned. “Uh… no, Even, you—”
“Please, you’ve said enough, Lei Ting. Even in a debate, you have to give the opposing debater a chance to speak.”
“……”
Lei Ting blinked, and surprisingly, he actually shut his mouth obediently.
“I won’t comment on the logic of your words; this isn't really a debate anyway.” Evenheiler nodded slightly. “But, Lei Ting, if we follow your logic, we have a major problem…
“Let me think. You killed people, but how many did you save? I know you’ll say those should be counted separately—so let’s count them separately,” Evenheiler said.
“Now, answer me one question: If you are guilty because of the damage caused during your salvation, then what about the people who caused you to take those actions?
“And what about the lives you saved? All the Orion humans in the Federation, those who joined the Union, every life in the entire galaxy—are we all guilty too?”
It wasn't that Lei Ting hadn't thought about this; he could process such thoughts in an instant. But at this moment, he instinctively argued, “No, at least you… I not only failed to save you, I killed you—”
“I forgive you,” Evenheiler said. “Speaking only for myself, an out-of-court settlement.”
Lei Ting took a sharp step back.
*He’s almost acting out of fear,* Evenheiler thought.
He smiled at the thought.
“What are you thinking? I’m curious, Lei Ting.”
Evenheiler smiled with genuine interest, slowly approaching Lei Ting.
“I lived for forty or fifty years and have been dead for over twenty. In some people’s eyes, I am both young and old. At every age you’ve experienced, I was doing things you can or cannot imagine…”
A complete, mature, and occasionally childish soul drifted back to Lei Ting’s side.
“Today, for the first time, a question occurred to me: Is this guy I fell for like a fool—who is two or three zodiac cycles younger than me—some kind of Interstellar Jesus?”
Evenheiler reached Lei Ting’s side and raised a hand to stroke his face. A hint of melancholy brewed in the depths of his starlit blue eyes, which quickly shifted into a strange expression.
“No, wait, who’s the fool in this situation, me or him?” He muttered to himself, “I have no right to forgive anyone on behalf of the dead; no one has that right. According to Federation law, even if the victims issued a letter of leniency, it would at most reduce the sentence a little—just a little.
“But, Lei Ting, even the religions on Origin Earth that believed in ‘Jesus’ knew that you ‘cannot spare a city of sin for the sake of one righteous man.’ What about you?”
Evenheiler leaned close to Lei Ting’s ear, his deep, pleasant voice softening as he asked.
Unseen by anyone, the smile on his face grew increasingly ‘menacing,’ and the hand hidden behind his back slowly clenched into a fist.
“You can certainly believe you are guilty. At least regarding the innocent, you… are indeed guilty.”
Evenheiler whispered, turning slightly to murmur in his ear, “You know, choosing to sacrifice the innocent isn't the same as accidental killing. It’s certainly not like what some people say about ‘taking some healthy blood when cutting out a tumor.’
“But I think, speaking strictly of so-called crimes, the one who should be punished first is definitely not you, Lei Ting. Even I, in my early years on missions, was a ‘sinner’ in your eyes… We are soldiers, executors, and decision-makers, Lei Ting. None of those three identities allow for indecisiveness.”
Lei Ting remained silent, returning to his usual statue-like demeanor.
And this time, Evenheiler didn't expect a response. He simply allowed Lei Ting to turn his head as before, slowly withdrawing his own hand.
“…I’m tired of all this nonsense. We both know you won’t take it to heart immediately, but I didn't know you were so—”
Evenheiler paused.
“—where did these ‘retrograde’ ideas come from? Maybe you’ve gone mad from reading too many books, I don’t know.”
He repeated, “I don’t know,” his voice filled with infinite longing. They both knew this stemmed from the years he felt he had missed, both before they met and after the tragedy occurred.
“But I do know that, at least in this era, in the face of a disaster spanning the galaxy, if a person who willingly bears the guilt for the sake of more innocent people is to be punished for it—sentenced like an ordinary criminal—that would be a…”
Evenheiler sneered, raising his fist with gritted teeth.
Almost simultaneously, he slammed a heavy punch into that handsome profile. “…even greater mistake!”
The punch was incredibly fast; he didn't give Lei Ting even half a millisecond to react, so fast that even the condensing repulsive force couldn't keep up.
A silver nebula exploded in the air, and a golden streak of light shot downward toward the hospital!
Lei Ting was completely dazed by the punch. He tumbled through the air and crashed into the hospital, instinctively doing his best to restrain his power so he wouldn't cause any disturbance to the facility.
A ghost, a phantom from the future, passed straight through matter, slammed hundreds of kilometers deep beneath the planetary crust.
Soil, rock, bones, mineral veins… countless sights flashed through his perception.
At the same time, Evenheiler relaxed, withdrawing the power he had ready to protect the hospital.
He descended into the hospital, found the maternity ward, and—relying on the fact that he couldn't be observed by ordinary people—began to distinguish the names of the pregnant women and their companions displayed on the life-support pods one by one. A look of extreme pleasure gradually curled onto his face.
—When ‘Starstream’ throws a punch, it can be as fast as it needs to be!
Hilarious. This punch… he had been holding it back for a long time!!
A few minutes later, Lei Ting emerged from the ground beside Evenheiler, his expression dazed and even a bit innocent. But as soon as he appeared, the other man flew up and hooked an arm around his neck, forcing him to bend his stiff back and look at the two people in front of them.
It was a man holding an infant, and a woman with a rosy complexion and a bright smile.
What… familiar faces, he thought.
He instinctively tried to turn his eyes away, not wanting to look at the two faces that had appeared in his childhood.
In those days when he still hadn't remembered his origins, before he even knew of his own uniqueness, he had occasionally remembered two ethereal shadows in his dreams at midnight…
But the storage of memory requires the establishment of information nodes to last. Even for a ‘Limit Breaker,’ when one is so young that the brain hasn't even fully developed, the memories that can be retained are far too few.
But Evenheiler wouldn't let him turn away. This man, who had once been more high-spirited than anyone, gripped Lei Ting’s neck tightly, his hand even grasping his well-defined jaw to force him back.
Between the flickers of spiritual light, the influence the two had on the physical world reached a point where they were almost visible to ordinary people.
“…Why does it feel a bit warm?” the woman with the healthy, rosy complexion asked, looking somewhat confused.
She was positioned on one side of a square modular life-support pod, wearing a neat, form-fitting flexible medical uniform with several tubes connecting her to the pod wall.
Despite having just given birth, the constitution of an Orion human made her look as if she could get up and run a marathon—no, not ‘as if,’ she actually could.
Lei Ting’s entire body was stiff. He stopped outputting his energy and let Evenheiler manipulate him, but his gaze remained flickering and downcast.
But no matter how his gaze flickered, the vibrations of the air and surrounding objects triggered by those voices still managed to pass through the barrier between the past and the future. They carried a strange, dreamlike quality as they fell into his perception.
And decoding such vibrations had long since become his instinct.
—He heard it.
His mother’s voice.
“Is it?” On the other side of the life-support pod’s partition screen, the man who had recently taken the child into his arms looked at the temperature display with some confusion. “…You’re right. Why did it suddenly go up by half a degree?”
“I don’t know… it shouldn't be a problem. If something really goes wrong, the hospital’s central control system will issue a warning.”
The woman leaned back in her position and asked lazily, “Did the baby cry just now?”
“He did. He just fell asleep.
“Honestly, this is such a… strange sense of ritual,” the man remarked, though a smile he couldn't suppress was on his face. “Humans haven't had to worry about potential congenital diseases in children for a long time, so why do we still have to listen for whether he cries when he’s born?”
“A person needs to learn how to cry early in life to know the value of being able to keep smiling,” the woman said with a grin.
She leaned toward the partition screen, looking at her child with curiosity. “It’s amazing… even though I’ve seen him many times through the instruments, it still feels amazing.”
“True,” the man sighed. “To go from an embryo to this—” He suddenly held the sleeping child high. “—You’ve worked hard! Son!”
“Waaaaah—” The startled child burst into loud wails.
Amidst the woman’s sudden, high-pitched scolding, Evenheiler hooked his arm around Lei Ting’s neck and laughed out loud.
Behind his blindfold, Lei Ting’s eyes slowly widened.
He raised his head and looked at those two people. The familiar yet strange people who were once his dearest.
The golden radiance gradually receded from his eyes, until finally, only a last sliver of light remained in the depths of his gaze, burning steady and eternal.
A while later, the woman finished her scolding and gave the partition screen a resentful thump, ordering the man to return the child to her through the delivery port.
The man, who had failed to soothe the child no matter what he tried, lowered his head and did as he was told with a dejected look.
Once she had the child in her arms, the woman’s anger quickly dissipated. However… she couldn't soothe the child either, which made the man across from her laugh uproariously.
“Stop laughing!” the woman huffed. “Isn't it always like this the first time you have a kid?”
“Right, okay.” The man quickly adjusted his expression, trying his best to look solemn. “So… here’s the question,” he said deeply. “What are we actually going to name him? Those fifty-plus names we picked before don't seem right anymore…”
At those words, the woman’s expression became serious as well.
She looked down at the child in her arms. It was just a name, yet she looked as if she were installing the final wire in a nuclear bomb.
In the void, repulsive forces gathered around Lei Ting and Evenheiler. Time and space were signaling them; it was time to go.
The two shared a silent look and quietly left the place, flying toward the empty, cold, uninhabited heights, toward the vast stars amidst the darkness.
But even as they left, they could hear—
“Let’s call him… ‘Lei Ting.’”
Amidst the loud crying, that gentle and bright female voice murmured.
“From the moment a person is born, they have to face too much pain in life… Although we are both just Betas, I hope my child can become a bolt of thunder, cleaving through all the darkness before him.”
“What if the darkness is too big to cleave through?” the man sighed. “These days, even our place isn't exactly peaceful.”
“That’s fine too. I’m not asking him to do anything great. Whether it’s peaceful or not is for the Union Speaker to worry about; what does it have to do with him?” The woman laughed softly. “Him…”
She seemed to cradle the child in her arms, looking down to kiss his tender forehead.
“…He just needs to live healthily, do what he wants to do, and have a warm meal. That’s enough to satisfy me.”
In the chaotic space-time storm of deep space, Evenheiler patted Lei Ting’s blindfold. “Right? Union Speaker?”
Lei Ting said nothing, his gaze somewhat vacant, the final lighthearted laughter of that man and woman still echoing in his mind.
That laughter landed in his life, deafeningly loud.
***
