Blue: I’m Not the Herrscher of the End

One heroine: Mihu.

When she died by your hand, she asked you one question.

“Who are you calling that?”

She didn't remember you. She didn't remember that bracelet, or “Big Brother's white flowers are so pretty.” She didn't remember how her purple eyes had watched you beneath the moonlight in the Gobi, saying your blood was so hot.

You remember.

The night you climbed over the wall and escaped Trinity at twelve, your wings spread beneath the moonlight, and you had no idea what awaited you. Civil war. The black market. Children locked in cages. White wings torn off and piled in a corner. The voice in your heart that never stopped talking. You thought that if you were strong enough, you could protect everyone. You never imagined that one day, the person you would have to run through with a bullet would be her.

Qian.

The bracelet she made for you is still wrapped around your left wrist. Its stitches are crooked, and the blood will never wash out. It lies alongside the white-flower hair tie Mihu gave you.

Your hand didn't tremble when you killed her. It hasn't trembled since.

You just think every night about what you would be like now if you hadn't taken the long way around that day in the Gobi, if she had been able to finish saying, “You have to keep wearing it,” if her blood hadn't splattered on that bracelet.

You don't know.

There are so many things you don't know. You don't know where Black Suit took her body, or what the Will of Corruption planted in her heart. You don't know that she's alive on the other side of the desert, wearing a face you can no longer recognize, and forgetting even more