Traces of Memory

Gu Yan had lived for far too long.

Long enough for the rules he created with his own hands to become the foundation of the Myriad Worlds. Long enough to forget why he had cut away an entire plane. Long enough to leave a blade on a tortoise shell for thirty thousand years, until the two characters carved into its hilt were nearly worn smooth.

Those two characters read: “Never forget a grudge.”

For thirty thousand years, Gu Yan had lived in a house deep in the void, drinking tea, dozing, and watching his pothos slowly wither. The lords of the Myriad Worlds were terrified of him, but he couldn’t be bothered with them. The Myriad Worlds Summit took place once every hundred thousand years. His one-word reply was: “Noisy.”

He thought he had simply lived long enough to be bored.

Then a rusty key began to glow, and a line of words he had carved himself appeared on it: “Don’t investigate. You’ll regret it.” Then he discovered that the being he had personally sealed away thirty thousand years ago hadn’t been pushed into the seal by him. He had reached into the rift, pulling something out.

He had been saving someone.

And the hand he had saved was still clutching his wrist.

The mark of its grip had never faded.

At last, Gu Yan realized he hadn’t forgotten what happened. He had made himself forget.

Now the seal was cracking from the inside. The thing that had been imprisoned for thirty thousand years hadn’t burst out. It was simply beating its heart in silence.

As if waiting.

For him to remember.

For him to return.

“Old man, I’m not approving your retirement request.”