When the Story Is Cold from Beginning to End

Ke Xi's mangled body fell to its knees. Its camera helmet was battered beyond recognition, and the lens tube extending past its arm was smeared with black blood. Red blood dripped onto the spinning gears, tugging at the broken springs. The damaged lens tube contracted inward, and a needle plunged deep into its nerves, rousing its feeble consciousness. No matter how hard it tried, it couldn't lift its knees. Ke Xi prayed it could stay conscious for one more second. Unconscious words slipped from its lips.

"Is this world awful? Maybe. But it isn't as bad as most people imagine. Cough, cough... It's just... I'm not as strong as everyone thinks..."

Scalding liquid spread over Ke Xi's pale skin. The bitter, bloody stench and the acrid smell of a short-circuiting device filled its nostrils. Its senses gradually faded, and its neural sensors failed. Ke Xi mustered all its strength and crashed forward, smashing into the last barrier between it and death. Longing, resentment, infatuation, sorrow, confusion: everything became a shimmering mirage. A slope leading to a distant shore appeared before its eyes.

Ke Xi fell into a familiar, warm embrace and poured out its heart to that familiar presence.

"I wish I could just end it all. Every time, I'm the only one who cowardly survives. Every time, I lose countless people who matter to me. I don't want this... I want to go with you... wherever the final paradise is..."

The presence held her tenderly, but spoke the most despairing words imaginable.

"No, Ke Xi. You have a more important mission to fulfill."

Ke Xi felt as if its chest had been crushed. Fighting the agonizing pain, she forced out a broken, trembling sound.

"Why... won't you let me...?"

The presence refused her in a firm, resolute voice.

"You mustn't be afraid of life, Ke Xi. If you're tired now, rest for a while."