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I died for the first time when I was seventeen. Agui stabbed me in the back to rob my family of a few acres of land. When I fell down, I heard him dragging his prey away, the sound of footsteps. I woke up a minute later. Running back to the village, the village burned to rubble. My mother fell at the door, holding a kitchen knife in her hand. My younger brother Ayuan is missing. I found a red rope on the branch. That was in his braid. What happened next is a long story-- I have been looking for him for eight thousand years. When found, he had been dead for more than eighty years. I buried the red rope in front of his grave, thinking that this would be it for the rest of my life. But I was wrong. Sixty-five billion years later, the red rope appeared again. Being held in the palm of an ordinary boy in the human world. He sat on the cliff at sunset every day, holding the rope, watching the smoke rising, waiting for someone to call him to eat. He didn't know the origin of that rope. He doesn't know who I am. He doesn't even know-- The voice calling him to eat every day was exactly the same one I heard 6.5 Billion years ago.