Star Core: Silent Dawn

The desert remembers everything. It remembers the ruins of that bloody dawn, the sound of iron chains dragging across the sand, and the trembling when the first "daddy" squeezed out from the girl's chapped lips. It remembered the roar of the train, the cold light of the black market operating table, and the last red light extinguished in the eyes of old K's machine when the space station exploded. It remembers the trajectory of the bullets cut by the Shadow Blade's knife on the sand dunes, the last drop of human tears shed by Iron Jaw before turning into a monster, and the silent lips of Erin when she pierced the inhibitor into her arm - "Amy, I'm coming." It remembers the sea of flowers. Blue, gold, purple. A tree, a room, three chickens. A bowl of soup that is always steaming. Two fathers, one on the left and one on the right, holding the same girl. One hundred and thirty-two sunrises. A thousand waits. The soup that was never finished. The desert remembers everything, but it never speaks. It just lets the wind fill in the footprints, let the sand cover the memory, and let time turn everything into stone. Then one morning, a boy will pick up a metal plaque from the ruins, with "Xingyuan Project-07" engraved on it. He didn't know what that meant. He just held it in his hand, raised his head, and looked at the brightest star in the sky.