Alice in the Land of Steam

To this day, Perec still often recalls the less-than-happy time she spent under the protection of her teacher, Metatron, and realizes that all the confusion and loneliness in her life may stem from that experience. When she was still seen as a witch who brought plague, hated by millions and demanded by millions, she never imagined that one day she could stay in a spacious and bright room, living a life without fear, and that the only thing she had to do was read.

She read every book her teacher left behind, trying her best to memorize the tedious inferences and theorems, pondering in her mind the reasons for their existence and the direction of their changes. But it wasn't because she loved knowledge; rather, it was because she was convinced that only by doing so could her teacher see her value, and she firmly believed that as long as she used this knowledge, she could help her teacher and become an irreplaceable person in his life.

Being irreplaceable is a beautiful statement, but it's also dangerous. Just like the knowledge that Perec learned, it's not that the more you learn, the smarter you become, nor is it that the smarter you are, the better you are at controlling your own destiny. On the contrary, countless people in this world are troubled by knowledge, and those who try to use knowledge to change their destiny ultimately lead themselves astray, far more than a hundred times that number.

Learning to think is the beginning of understanding the world, but how many people can easily accept that the world is not what they imagined? Some people think that if the world is different from what they imagined, then they should change it and impose their ideals on it; while others think that if the world is different from what they imagined, is it possible that they are wrong? Incorrect perceptions need to be corrected, and besides, changing oneself is far easier than changing the world.

Perec is undoubtedly the latter, and of course, she also hates the latter, so she undoubtedly hates herself, hates her own weakness and escapism; her teacher Metatron, the Mystic King Ovira, and even the Skyship belong to the former. But even those who make the same choice often have their own reasons, so Perec's feelings towards these three types of people are not the same.

She felt a mixture of awe and inexplicable pity for her teacher. She sensed that the man's ideals were grand, his beliefs unwavering, and his methods ruthless, yet he died in the most absurd way. The theories he had painstakingly developed seemed childish in the face of Tientes's realistic plan, just as the latter had said, "I will kill many people, far more than your teacher." His theories were hastily abandoned before they could be tested, proving less ruthless than the Witch of Reality. And when it came to Perec, who refused to cooperate with her research, she couldn't bring herself to use harsh methods, resorting instead to "observation" and "research" to mask her own human vulnerability.

It wasn't until much later—perhaps just now—that Pereke understood her teacher's indifference at that time, and felt a deep sense of regret. This regret didn't stem from hypothetical scenarios: what if she hadn't met her teacher, what if she had agreed to her request, what if she had turned away... these are meaningless. Rather, it came from a more subtle feeling, like having a dream with both beautiful and sad parts, only to wake up and realize that the dream and reality are actually opposite, leaving a sense of loss.

Her feelings for Ovira were much purer, consisting only of admiration. While Ovira possessed many admirable qualities, what Perec found most unforgettable was her tenacious will, like a vine, climbing upwards through the unpredictable years, never retreating or giving up no matter the circumstances. Many years ago, they might have addressed each other as sisters in the Heavenly Sanctuary, but now their story could only end with one killing the other. She accepted this fate with disbelief, even having long planned for this day. Especially after the death of her sister Xia… the King of Destiny, she remained completely unaffected, having already understood and accepted her own mission.

For some, knowledge is a curse, thought brings sin, and understanding adds burden; but for the Mysterious King, there is no escaping it, and perhaps even more so. She knows all the knowledge she desires, which is tantamount to knowing all the secrets she fears and rejects; she contemplates all the questions she didn't understand before, which is tantamount to contemplating riddles that all of humanity, and indeed all mortal life, will never comprehend… O omniscient Mysterious King, what do you see in your wise and sorrowful eyes? Pereira thinks it must be something she cannot bear, therefore, she feels that those who can bear it are great, even if, now, she is her enemy.

Finally, there's the Thai Air Force.

The beast, unwilling to submit to the world and preferring to change the world rather than itself, stubbornly retains its human form even in its dying moments. Is it recalling the memories of its birth, trying to find a little satisfaction in them? As it lies motionless in the ruins, gazing at the gray, rainy sky, does it still remember its original form?

At that time, it was not yet defined, merely a figment of people's imaginations. The Society salvaged some of the remains of the machine god Alexander from the ruins of the Steam Holy War and decided to use him as a model to create a groundbreaking construct mech, bringing an end to all the conflicts in the world. For this grand goal, researchers from different departments, disciplines, and even ideals gathered together, their eyes burning with ambition and aspiration. They talked eloquently and ambitiously, discussing "surpassing the old gods" today and dreaming of "establishing a new order" tomorrow. And the Skywarp, amidst the lines of the design drawings, under the lights that shone all night, and in the gradually bustling hangar, quietly gazed at this scene.

It awaited its moment of birth, still oblivious to so-called ideals and responsibilities, yet it developed a desire to explore. But ultimately, it ended up gathering dust in the hangar, never to be used again. The project proposal for the prototype, the God of the Sky, was also deemed a failure. But where was the loser? Could it be itself? All parameters conformed to theory, and the combat data was impeccable. It demonstrated power far exceeding expectations, yet it was deemed a failure simply because no one could control it? Nothing so absurd had ever happened before, but the God of the Sky had indeed recognized human fickleness and weakness before understanding human emotions.

The dusty years had taken away his ideals, and the coldness of time had frozen his self. At the moment of his rebirth, the Skywarp tried to find the familiar figure who had created him in the crowd, but to no avail. Did he realize he had been abandoned? Did he understand that no one would have any expectations of him anymore? Only the witch understood this complex emotion, because when her magic flowed into this long-frozen heart, what she felt was neither anger nor resentment, but rather… helplessness.

So she said something back then, and she still says it now—

"It seems we're in the same boat," she sighed. "But at least we both still have one more chance."

This might be the last chance.

The sound of rain was the only mourner at this moment, monotonously and stubbornly pounding against the cockpit dome. Pereira's sigh blended into the damp silence, her gaze piercing through the cracked observation window, landing on the heavily wounded yet still majestic dragon in the distance. The final pulse of the Titan had extinguished, with only a few eerie purple arcs of electricity occasionally flashing spasmodically between the broken pipes, like the twitching of dying nerve endings.

She took a deep breath. Even though it was through the cockpit, the cold, salty raindrops felt like they were hitting her face immediately. They mingled with the dampness, the smell of rust and burning, and what seemed to be a hint of disinfectant, stimulating her brain and making the witch more alert than ever before. The earth was still scorching hot, the rain hissing as it fell, creating a hazy white mist.

"Your battle is over, Skywarp," she repeated softly, almost in a whisper. "In the end, whether machine, beast, or human, none can escape the definitions of others. But I think this isn't necessarily a bad outcome." She paused, raindrops dripping from the cockpit onto Skywarp's cold armor. "But my battle has only just begun. I'm different from you; you all stubbornly retain your own identity, unwilling to be changed by the world. But I can't do that, because I'm inherently weak, and in the end, I'll become the very thing I once hated most. But even so, there are things that must be accomplished, or rather... precisely because of this, there are things that must be accomplished."

"It's already turned out like this. If I still haven't accomplished anything, wouldn't that be ridiculous?" She laughed self-deprecatingly, then reached out and gently placed her hand on the largest and deepest wound in the cockpit. Through the grim crack, she could see the internal structure of the machine. It was no longer just a series of mechanical pipes, but a hard skeleton, bright red blood vessels, and a heart that was still beating.

Her voice became extremely soft, as if afraid of disturbing something, yet it was also extremely firm, as if afraid of failing to convey anything.

"If you agree with me, then give it to me."

The wind and rain seemed to freeze for a moment.

Pereike didn't say what "it" was, but the Skyship understood it with its last remaining will: it was the power of faith that it had been constantly feeling, absorbing, and even transforming since it landed on the Eastern Continent, derived from desire, greed, hatred, resentment, and destruction—the most evil poison in the world, but sometimes also the greatest power.

For the young queen, it is both.

Once, millions chased after the Plague Witch, wanting to elevate her to godhood and fulfill their own ambitions. She feared that future and refused to become a true witch, so she fled in panic, living a life of misery. Now, however, she has willingly accepted it all. Hidden within this capricious fate lies a tragic story. But the Skywarp has no interest in investigating. For it, stories, whether tragic or happy, are unimportant. What truly matters is: will this be enough to defeat its enemy?
Whether it's buried in a cold hangar, born for a great cause yet destined to fade into obscurity; or perishing under the claws of a dragon, silently dying in a desolate downpour, unknown a century later… it's all a failure, and failure alone is intolerable. It will remind the Skywarp of that unbearable time, a time when fate was both cruel and generous to it.

Now that the witch has shown him the path to victory,

So, it seems there's nothing to hesitate about.

Those who share the same fate will eventually meet the same end.

From within the enormous humanoid remains, a faint, almost imperceptible hum suddenly rang out. Then, from the crack that Perek was pressing against, a ghostly purple light—dimmer than ever before, yet purer than ever before—slowly seeped out, like a living liquid, winding its way up Perek's arm, icy cold, yet carrying a soul-scorching heaviness.

To onlookers, it was an astonishing scene: machinery and steel were melting, merging into a thin, frail figure, as if she were using a human body to contain the coldness of machinery and the tenacity of steel. Did she know that those emotions were incompatible with humanity? Or was it that only by ceasing to beat could a heart avoid falling into the dust?

The rain is getting heavier.

Pereira's arm trembled slightly. The purplish-red fluid wasn't warm; instead, it felt like the unmelting glacier of the far north, flowing against her bloodstream, leaving a mark of burning pain and frost wherever it went. She closed her eyes, feeling fragments of memories that weren't her own piercing her consciousness like sharp ice shards—things the eyes of the Skywarp had seen: lines dancing on blueprints, the ambition gleaming in the researchers' eyes, the long, lonely darkness of the hangar, the noise and colors of the outside world surging in during the first startup… and finally, the gray rain, and the silhouette of a dragon obscuring the sky.

As the final memories completely merged into Perec's soul, the enormous humanoid remains seemed to finally exhaust the last vestige of strength holding them together, turning into countless wisps of ash that drifted and scattered, swallowed by rain, washed away by rivers, until finally merging into the deepest veins of this land, bringing forth a new legend many years later. O beast that crossed the sea, when it died beneath the dragon's claws, was it satisfied, or... weary?

The rain continued, but without the massive wreckage to shield her, it poured directly onto Perec, instantly soaking her hair and clothes. The coldness only heightened her clarity. The witch withdrew her hand, tilted her head back, and addressed the majestic, indifferent dragon, the girl who knew all the secrets of humanity, and perhaps herself—

"Now."

"It's my turn to fight you, Ovira." (End of Chapter)