Traces of Memory

Gu Yan had lived for too long.

So long that the rules he had created with his own hands had become the foundation of the Myriad Worlds. So long that after cutting off an entire plane, he had forgotten why. So long that he had left a knife on a tortoise shell for thirty thousand years, until the two words engraved on its hilt were almost worn away.

Those two words were: "Remember the grudge."

For thirty thousand years, Gu Yan had lived in a house deep in the void, drinking tea, dozing, and watching a pothos plant slowly wither. The rulers of the Myriad Worlds were terrified of him, but he couldn't be bothered with them. The Myriad Worlds Summit was held once every hundred thousand years. His reply was one word: "Noisy."

He thought he was merely bored because he had lived too long.

Then a rusty key lit up, and a line of text appeared on it, carved in his own hand: "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 fissure, pulling something out.

He had been saving someone.

And the hand he had saved was still wrapped around his wrist.

The marks of its grip had yet to fade.

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 trapped for thirty thousand years hadn't burst out. It was simply beating its heart, quietly.

As if waiting.

Waiting for him to remember.

Waiting for him to return.

"Old man, I'm not approving your retirement request."