Arknights, but the sickly pretty girl starts

"...You still have one wish." Precious said, "As long as you make this wish, I can help you."

"...Precious, if I really have to make one more wish, I hope you stay with me." Noah said, "Come with me and have a good sleep. I don't know how long it will take, but with you here, I at least have someone to chat with, right?"

"Fool. I've never met such a fool." Precious sighed, "Now I understand that choosing you was a mistake."

"Never mind. Let's make the best of it now. We have a long—a long time to waste."

"……whatever."

Precious didn't know whether it was because she had no other choice or because she had been defeated by Noah's behavior, she fell silent, and Noah finally found peace.

——It’s so cold.

These were her last words before she fell into the dark ocean.

Chapter 70: Monument

A month later, Miriam gradually recovered from the disaster. While the threat of the sea hadn't been completely eliminated, life in the city continued to plod forward amidst uncertainty. Time passed, seemingly healing the wounds of battle. The ruins were repaired, and the streets returned to life. A monument stood in the heart of the city, inscribed with the names of the Coast Guard and members of the outpost fleet who had sacrificed their lives in the defense. One name in particular stood out: Noa Kyrielight. Her name wasn't marked as "saved," but "missing."

Ulpian and Skadi stood silently before the monument. Skadi held a bouquet of flowers, her expression slightly lost and heavy. Her gaze wandered among the names, lingering for a long time on Noa's in particular. She spoke softly, as if speaking to herself, yet also as if seeking answers from Ulpian.

"I still don't remember what happened that day," Skadi whispered, her eyes filled with confusion. She looked up at the gradually yellowing sky above the monument, as if trying to find some kind of answer. "I only remember that I pushed Gloria and the others away, and then..."

Ulpian, standing beside her, suddenly interrupted Skadi.

"Then you fell into a coma, and nothing else happened." His tone was calm, but there was an unquestionable tone in his words. He seemed to have been preventing Skadi from exploring the past.

Skadi frowned and murmured softly, "Is it really just like this? Why do I feel like I've lost something, forever..."

She looked back at the monument, her eyes scanning the names. Among them were familiar companions, unfamiliar Coast Guard members, and Noah's name, which lingered in her mind. The vague, elusive memory made her feel increasingly uneasy.

"What exactly happened, Captain? Can't you really tell me?" There was a hint of anxiety in Skadi's voice. She knew that Ulpian was hiding something. She also knew that Gloria and Laurentina were avoiding her. They never mentioned what happened that day in front of her.

Ulpian was silent for a moment, as if considering how to respond, but ultimately just shook his head slightly.

"That day, we survived Hai Si's threat. This is what matters most." There was no emotion in his voice, as if he was simply stating the facts.

The wind blew past the monument, bringing with it a gentle scent of sea salt. Skadi didn't press the issue further, knowing she couldn't get any more answers from Ulpian, at least not yet. Her heart was still in turmoil, but she seemed to find a glimmer of comfort in Ulpian's calm gaze.

"How are Gloria, Laurentina, and the others doing lately?" Skadi tried to change the subject, trying to ease the heaviness in her heart a little.

"Golatia has become consul again and is busy with reconstruction work. Laurentina spends most of her time in the sculpture gallery. They are all at their respective posts." Ulpian answered concisely, as if these were insignificant matters.

Skadi nodded and sighed softly: "Everyone obviously remembers...but we can only move on...is that what you mean?"

Ulpian did not answer. No one could give such an answer. He did not want to deceive Skadi, but letting Skadi recall that time was risky in itself. He did not dare to gamble. He did not dare to gamble that the remnants on Skadi had disappeared. If Skadi became like that again... he would have to get rid of Skadi.

But in Skadi's heart, that blank memory was like an unfillable gap, and she vaguely felt that there was something very important hidden there. But Ulpian, Gorettia, and Laurentina, no one was willing to tell her the truth.

"Don't worry about the past. Focus on the battle now," Ulpian sighed. "And put that damn flower down in your hand. You're about to crush it."

Skadi looked at him silently, then looked at the flowers in her hand, took a deep breath, and gently placed the bouquet that was about to be crushed in her hand in front of the monument.

"Perhaps you're right, Captain," she whispered, "but I still wonder what... I've forgotten."

Ulpian said nothing, simply standing beside her, gazing at the monument. He knew Skadi's questions would not dissipate easily, and he knew he had no real answers. Noa's sacrifice was the deepest secret between them, and the heaviest burden on his heart.

As they were paying respects at the monument, Mace appeared. She was dressed in a black suit, her face calm, and she held a bouquet of pure white lilies. She didn't greet Ulpian or exchange any words with Skadi, simply placing the bouquet gently in front of the monument.

The movement of the mace was gentle, as if she were paying respect to someone. She lowered her head, remained silent for a moment, then turned and left, her steps steady and unhurried. Ulpian and Skadi silently watched her back. Such encounters had happened several times in this period, and each time ended in silence.

After the fall of the Beacon, what was arguably the deepest trench in all of Terra had become a forbidden zone for life, a place no one could approach to this day. The land-based supporters, including the Doctor and Kel'tsit, had left a week earlier. The only one who chose to remain was Noah's bodyguard, Mace.

Mace refused to leave, choosing to reside in Miliarum, awaiting Noa's return. Upon learning the truth, she remained remarkably calm, even beginning to study underwater operations, seemingly preparing for the day she could venture into the trench herself. However, all her requests were rejected. Because the trench harbored the most terrifying lair of sea heirs in all of Agor's history, no one believed her actions had any chance of success.

Ulpian knew that Mace's resolve wouldn't waver easily. Her eyes held a similar determination to Noa's, a stubborn determination to achieve her goal no matter what. Ulpian sighed softly inwardly. If Skadi knew the truth, she might, like Mace, desperately seek Noa.

However, some things are destined to be buried in the deep sea, waiting to resurface one day.

Ulpian knew that Mace came here every day to lay flowers. He also often came here to stare blankly, but the two of them had never communicated, or rather - Mace deliberately stopped contacting the deep-sea hunters.

The one she loved sacrificed himself for the city, and the one she protected forgot her. Mace could understand these things, but she couldn't accept them.

Although Noah Kyrielight's name is on the monument, few people know what it represents. To maintain the secrecy of the Waterway Project, Noah's name was not included in the official description of the incident. Even the detailed description of the incident was kept strictly confidential, not even the mace was allowed to be shared.

The only person who knew everything was probably the real person involved - Ulpian.

He looked at Skadi, wondering silently, how long would this last? Mace's waiting, Skadi's confusion, and his own unspoken secret weighed like a heavy stone, weighing heavily on everyone's heart. And perhaps the end of all this, only when Noah returned, would true liberation be found.

The wind still blew against the monument, bringing with it a hint of the salty sea air. Skadi's gaze remained fixed on the names, and she closed her eyes, as if bidding a final farewell to the past.

"Let's go, Captain," Skadi finally spoke, relief in her voice.

Ulpian nodded without saying anything, then turned and left the monument with Skadi. Their figures gradually disappeared into the streets of Miliarum, the hustle and bustle of the city gradually surrounding them, as if nothing in the city had changed, and the traces of battle would eventually be smoothed over by time.

Yet, deep within their hearts, those buried memories and secrets remain like undercurrents in the depths of the ocean, silent yet impossible to ignore. Skadi, Ulpian, and Mace—each of them is waiting, waiting for the day when everything will truly see the light of day.

After leaving the monument, Skadi and Ulpian headed in separate directions. Skadi needed to return to the detention facility to continue her treatment, having been under strict supervision and her recovery process was challenging. Ulpian, on the other hand, headed straight for the Archon's meditation hall, as he had another important task to complete.

The Meditation Hall was one of the core areas of Miliarum. As the place where the Archons held discussions and made decisions, it was brightly lit almost every day, a place of bustle and excitement. Clemenza hadn't rested properly for several days and nights, devoting almost all of her energy to the reconstruction and management of the city.

Seeing Ulpian push the door open, Clemenza raised her head with a hint of fatigue in her eyes, but she still forced a faint smile.

"Aren't we supposed to take Skadi to see her today? Is it over already?" she asked.

"Well, she cares a lot, even though she doesn't remember anything anymore," Ulpian said bluntly, his voice as low and calm as ever.

Clemenza's smile froze for a moment, then she regained her composure and nodded slightly.

"Where is Gorettia?" asked Ulpian.

"She's conducting a trench survey. This is her tenth time this month." Clemenza replied with a hint of helplessness in her tone.

"We have surveyed it many times, and it's impregnable." Ulpian's eyes sank slightly, as if he was puzzled by Gloria's persistence.

"Indeed, but Gloria doesn't intend to give up." Clemenza sighed deeply, and their eyes met in the air. After a moment of silence, Clemenza gave in first.

"I know it's frustrating that the higher-ups asked you to keep your mouth shut, but this is the best result I can get. After all, we lost the beacon tower..." Her voice lowered, and her tone was mixed with helplessness and a hint of apology.

Ulpian's expression remained unchanged, but the light in his eyes grew deeper. He shook his head slightly and spoke.

"No, we lost her. It's our responsibility, Clemenza - we will eventually have to atone for all the sacrifices in this incident." He looked at a monitor in the meditation room. The screen showed a bottomless trench. That was where the beacon tower fell and where Noah was last seen.

"We will pay the price eventually." Ulpian's voice was low, like some kind of prophecy, with an indescribable heaviness.

Clemenza remained silent, her gaze shifting to the images on the monitor. That trench, that darkness, seemed to have swallowed up all hope and buried their secrets deep within.

-

At this time, deep within the trench, a unique ecosystem of sea snakes has formed. In this vast nest, various sea snakes linger around a towering metal structure that has been silent for a month at the bottom of the trench.

Amaya remained here, occasionally touching the outer layer of the beacon tower, trying to establish some kind of connection with it. However, every attempt ended in failure. She stood beside the tower, her eyes filled with unspeakable obsession.

Suddenly, a voice sounded behind her. The voice was gentle but carried a deep power: "You have been here for a long time, Amaya. You should understand that she cannot respond to you."

Amaya turned around and saw Maritus standing there. Maritus—the true leader of the Deep Sea Church, a sage among the Agors, the founder of the Battle of Wisdom Field. His name had once carried so much glory. But now, he looked like just an ordinary old man, his aged eyes filled with wisdom and experience.

"I just wanted to try, Mr. Maritus." Amaya's voice was low, a hint of stubbornness etched in it. As the Bishop of the Deep Sea Church, she should have continued on with more missions, but she remained stranded here. She refused to accept the harsh reality and longed for the day when she would hear a response from within the tower, even if it was only a faint whisper.

Maritus walked over to her, his gaze fixed on the silent tower, a touch of emotion in his eyes. This tower once represented the highest achievement of Agorian technology, a symbol of exploration and the future. But now, it stood abandoned, quietly standing in the trench, like a forgotten piece of history.

"You know, this tower is now a symbol of the past for Agor." Maritus' voice was tinged with a sigh. "It was supposed to be a miracle of human technology and the ocean, but now it has become a battlefield between the Gray Matter and the Sea Heir. Noa—I'm afraid her chances of returning are slim."

Amaya remained silent, her gaze lingering on the cold metal surface, as if trying to see through the hard shell to see everything within. She refused to accept this fact, even though her mind told her that what Maritus said was likely true. Noa, perhaps already lost in the tug-of-war between gray matter and sea cells, completely fused with the tower, no longer able to exist independently.

"Human willpower ultimately has its limits." Maritus's voice echoed in the deadly seabed. He looked at Amaya with a complicated expression. "But waiting here will do you no good."

Amaya said softly, "She once believed in me and gave me a chance. I can't give up on her, even if there is only a slight possibility."

Maritus looked at her quietly. After a moment, he sighed softly and said nothing more. He knew that some obsessions could not be easily broken. Regardless of whether Noya could return, the existence of this tower was no longer just a physical existence for Amaya, but a bond deep in her heart that she could not let go.

The tower remained silent, a silent mockery, standing deep in the ocean. The surrounding sea creatures seemed to thrive under its protection. And Amaya, still waiting, remained unresponsive.

Chapter 71: Twin Flowers

Among those in the know, neither Amaya nor Ulpian could have imagined that after integrating into the Beacon Tower, Noa's life was more lively than they had imagined.

"——Teacher, I understand the principle, but I can't possibly compile all the cultures, traditions, and Originium techniques of every region into my repertoire all at once. I'll need to prioritize and select some elements, right?"

"Choosing is the behavior of mediocrity. Genius will only choose to have it all. Leave behind your ordinary knowledge. What you need is extraordinary cognition, broaden your horizons, and turn everything in the world into your firewood."

"...Teacher, then why didn't you complete Echoes of the Mortal World in your lifetime?"

"..." There was a pause, but as the Sorcerer King, history's most celebrated musician, Originium user, sorcerer, tyrant, genius, and madman, the great Herhunzoren would have given one and only one reason. "When you've spent the first half of your life slaving away at a mountain of code, you wouldn't have the time to distract yourself with compiling the music of Terra."

"...Oh, you mean the Golden Rule?" Noah finally understood. The nameless harp appeared in front of her. Because of the transformation of her physique by the gray matter, she no longer felt hungry or tired, and the nutrients were all taken up by Hai Si. In a sense, Noah has now entered a state that is halfway close to the so-called "perfect posture", and thanks to this state, she is able to focus on the creation that has been stagnant for a long time.

Composer King teacher in front of Noah, such a thing in Leithania, would probably scare people to death. Fortunately, Noah is a special person, and the Sorcerer King is quite tolerant of geniuses like Noah.

"If you ask me, the music you've composed may seem free, but it's actually meaningless. You should listen to the sounds released by dying stars, or try to find the songs captured by the gravity of black holes before they could even begin to sing. Or the songs of neutron stars, or the rumble of the earth's crust caused by gravitational tides between binary star systems, playing music in the silent universe. You don't understand what art is at all."

At this time, Precious, who was bored in Noya's body, also interrupted and said that what she said was not false. She had really heard these sounds. In her time, things like the music of the Witch King or pop music were already considered nostalgic. They had access to more extensive entertainment channels, and the means they used to create art in their minds were also more diverse. Precious even saw guys who had been satellites in planetary orbits for hundreds of years in order to investigate the development rate of a civilization that had just emerged from the Stone Age. Although this process could be accelerated through certain means, it was obvious that - in the era before the discovery of lumberjacks, they had already solved the problem of lifespan and had enough time to complete their research.

There is even a group of naturalists who advocate returning to nature - they use cutting-edge technology to eat raw meat and drink blood, and even directly sow life on a planet, personally play the role of savior, establish a religion and become gods.

There are also those little homebodies who are obsessed with underwater creatures and are obsessed with creating perfect creatures by actively interfering with genes and the laws of biological development.

There is also an old scholar who collects all the production materials of human creation, studies freezing technology, and is always thinking about how to spend enough time while maintaining self-awareness.

Of course, there are also those with great ambitions, true geniuses, kind and gentle, who are always ahead of everyone else... the prophet.

Precious had many stories to tell, some of them her own, some of those of those around her, but she fell silent as words reached her lips. She only managed one final sentence: "Your art is so backward."

"The significance of compiling the Terra Suite is immense. Music can connect all things, even influence the heart and distort certain theorems. While the Golden Rule is indeed a vast mountain of code, it also reflects the efforts of great sages—a complete, self-contained, and even self-operating collection of spells. If Syracuse hadn't been separated from the voice, the Golden Rule wouldn't have become a bug-ridden mountain of code. I spent the first half of my life improving it, but I only added and deleted a single line of incantation without causing a complete collapse." Herhunzoron ignored Preseth and emphasized the significance of the Terra Suite itself. "What you are doing now is writing everything about Terra into this epic masterpiece, unprecedented and unparalleled."

"—Teacher, let's not talk about the fact that I haven't touched the entire Terra. Furthermore, Terra won't just stagnate for me to observe and summarize. Terra is always moving forward. I can only write about the Terra I see, and I can't make the music evolve with Terra's progress. Ultimately, what I describe is nothing more than a core of laws that could have bugs at any time."

Noah had a completely different idea, but it was not because she was lazy. She also felt that compiling the Terra Suite was a great job, but she would rather regard it as a personal pursuit rather than completing a great work.

Just like now, she was essentially just killing time this way. Fortunately, within her little head, she had the Sorcerer King Herhunzollon as her strict teacher, as well as Preseth, the unfortunate fellow who coveted her body but was forced to remain here due to the current circumstances. There was even Brandus, who had just joined the group—though Brandus had been killed by Noah himself, he showed no remorse for Noah. Instead, as if he had put down a heavy burden, he returned to his own work: theoretical mathematical research.

It can be said that everyone except Precious has found something to do, and it is inevitable that Precious will complain a few times.

After hearing what Noah said, Herhunzolen, contrary to his usual behavior, did not refute it immediately, but seriously interpreted Noah's words, "Terra is always making progress, and the suite can only become the Terra that Noah sees." In the final analysis, the Terra Suite is just a creation that is backward as soon as it is completed. Perhaps for Terra, it is very advanced and can even change the course of Terra's history. However, from a broader perspective, no matter how talented a person is, he cannot achieve the core of the music that is self-renewal and self-evolution.

After all, music is composed by people.

No one can be at the forefront all the time. How can music, a creation that becomes completely independent of its author once the last stroke is written, possibly surpass the pace of human progress?

"—As expected of my disciple." Herhunzollen didn't even see it as clearly as Noya. He hadn't completed the Echoes of the Mortal World in his lifetime, but instead became obsessed with it. Unexpectedly, his disciple, lacking this obsession, had a broader perspective, even saying something that even Herhunzollen himself applauded. "Alright, I won't push you any further. I trust you have your own plans."

Herhunzoron finally gave up urging Noya to continue compiling the music. Without the Witch King's supervision, Noya finally breathed a sigh of relief, but she didn't put down her pen. She was completing the additional piece in the Terra Suite, the piece for Agor. Noya planned to call it "Sea Oath." She couldn't claim to have a deep understanding of Agor, but through the Deep Sea Hunters, she had glimpsed a part of this distant civilization.

If it is said that almost all the countries of Terra were built on the source stone left by the previous civilization and are one of the heirs of the previous civilization, then Agor's status is undoubtedly the eldest son of Terra.

He inherited the most from the previous civilization and possessed almost the most powerful technological strength in the entire Terra. He was also willing to support and care for those slightly backward countries on the land. He might not be arrogant himself, he just knew what his mission was and even knew part of the truth about the destruction of the previous civilization. But even such an Agor, when faced with the threat of the sea being out of control, finally admitted his mistake and took the initiative to extend an olive branch to the land.

A country that advocates rationality, has advanced technology, and is spiritually empty. It is the eldest son of Terra and the mortal enemy of Haisi.

Noya had to look at her from many perspectives, to understand her, even to judge her. She was by no means perfect, she was by no means inferior. She had simply walked a path that most Terran civilizations had never walked. Looking back, she realized that she seemed to have gone too far, even to the point of catching a glimpse of the bones of her predecessors.

Such a civilization and a country should naturally have a song that is absolutely unique.

As she began to write, time seemed to cease. In this space, Noya felt neither fatigue nor hunger, and naturally lost her normal sense of time. She tirelessly pondered and revised, pouring out her thoughts on endless pages. Herhunzollen had once passed by while she was working, but Noya, so absorbed in her work, hadn't noticed he was watching.

After Herhunzollon nodded and left, Precious couldn't help but take a look at the music composed by Noah.

Even though Precious often said these pieces were outdated and even low-end, in her eyes, the melodies written by Noah actually began to "play themselves" the moment she saw them. It was as if the notes echoed in her ears the moment they came into her sight.

Clearly, this wasn't the Originium Technique that Precious was familiar with. If it were, she would have recognized it instantly. This, however, felt more like a spiritual resonance, stirring her heart.

Deep within the gray matter and beacon towers, Noa transformed her thoughts on Agor into rhythm through these notes. The melody was like her soul's dialogue with this unknown ocean. Precious sighed silently. She had always felt unfamiliar and alienated with this land, but seeing Noa's devotion, she also developed a sense of respect for these melodies.

Those notes seemed to penetrate her defenses, transcending the chasm of time and age, touching her soul in a direct and pure way. This shock was unlike anything she had ever experienced. Precious had always believed she had witnessed the highest forms of art, art born from the mastery of the universe, the stars, and time itself. She had heard the final song of a dying star and felt the silence of a black hole, devoured before its birth.

——And now, these melodies from Noah's hands can actually stand shoulder to shoulder with the sounds she has heard, and in a sense, are even purer.

She was a naturalist who believed that natural melodies were superior to human creations, but she was so easily conquered by the music created by humans.

For a moment, Precious felt that his former pride was shaken.

She had always believed her civilization was far ahead of the world before her, and she had always held a disdain for everything here, even viewing these so-called arts as primitive and childish. However, Noah before her—a young man she had once thought was merely relentlessly pursuing a meaningless goal—had now displayed talent and creativity beyond her imagination.

Precious silently watched Noah's back, watching her write tirelessly on the manuscript paper, and a complex emotion arose in her heart. It was an emotion that she herself could hardly describe, mixed with admiration, wonder, and even a hint of jealousy.

Creating and recording are two completely different jobs. Even though she has recorded countless touching melodies, they cannot be compared with the notes that are naturally flowing out from Noah's heart.

She slowly closed her eyes, memorizing the melody. It was as if, at that moment, she had found a way to connect with this world. She no longer viewed everything here as inferior or ridiculous, but began to see these people and these civilizations from a new perspective—perhaps, even within this land, there were things worthy of respect, miracles of their own. This transformation, for thousands of years, had never touched her.

She no longer disturbed Noah's creation, but sat aside. She did not dare to focus her mind on the page of manuscript paper, but her eyes fell on Noah's face.

Come to think of it, the way Noah concentrates on something is very similar to an old friend of hers. Unfortunately, reincarnation has long been proven to be non-existent by science, so she is no longer around. No matter how similar they are, Noya can't be her.

A faint regret streaked through her heart, like a shooting star across the dim night sky. She seemed to recall that face again, and it was gradually merging with Noah's own. Perhaps, they were just two similar flowers, just looking alike, so what was so strange about that?