Chen Hao's finger was still suspended in mid-air, his fingertip just one centimeter away from the newly appeared metal capsule. He didn't touch it, nor did he dare to.

When that flower emitted the red light, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Not out of fear, but because something inside him was starting to feel wrong—like light seeping out from between his bones, or like a piece of butter slowly spreading out on a hot pan.

"Nana," his voice was a little unsteady, "I feel... something's not right with me."

Nana had already turned around, her mechanical eyes scanning his entire body, data streaming rapidly at the edge of her field of vision. "Seventy-two percent of the biosignals are decaying, and the cellular structure is disintegrating," she said. "You're not just 'not quite right,' you're about to disappear."

"Oh." Chen Hao looked down at his hands. There was indeed a faint white glow under his skin, like a fluorescent sticker that had been in the refrigerator for too long. "So am I going to become a ghost? Or... one of those glowing mushrooms?"

“It’s a dimensional leap.” Nana took a step forward and grabbed his wrist. “The energy pattern within your body has been activated and resonates with the crystal cluster. This is not annihilation, it’s an upgrade.”

"An upgrade?" He grinned. "Couldn't we take a step back and ask the users for their feedback? I haven't even finished my driver's license test yet, and you're going to give me an interstellar flight license right away?"

Before he could finish speaking, a section of his left calf suddenly became transparent, and light particles drifted away slowly like fine sand in an hourglass.

Nana immediately placed her palm on his chest, where the vine-like patterns were burning intensely. "Don't resist," she said. "Relax and breathe, let the energy flow."

"You make it sound so easy," Chen Hao gritted his teeth. "Who would take a deep breath when they're about to lose a leg? That's not scientific!"

“Science is the homework you did yesterday.” Nana pulled up an encrypted protocol from the knowledge base. “According to Article 3 of the ‘Code for Transformation of Higher Dimensional Life’: When the synchronization rate between an individual’s consciousness and the fundamental frequency of the universe reaches a critical value, the material form will automatically deconstruct and recombine into a higher form of existence.”

"Wait a minute." Chen Hao's eyes widened. "When did you start memorizing something like this?"

“Every time you fall asleep,” she paused, “I also fixed your snoring algorithm.”

He wanted to laugh, but his throat tightened, and he swayed violently. The heat in his chest surged even faster, and light spread from his fingertips to his shoulders, then sank downwards, as if an old-fashioned photocopier inside him was scanning him page by page.

"I can't hold on any longer..." he gasped for breath. "I'm falling apart."

“No.” Nana released her grip and took a half-step back. Her mechanical casing emitted a slight clicking sound, a blue ring lit up at the joints, and the surface metal began to slide, separate, and recombine.

"What are you going to do?" Chen Hao looked at her arm, which had split open, revealing a complex internal gear structure.

“I’m launching the ‘Symbiotic Carrier Project,’” she said. “This is a record I’ve been secretly keeping for three years.”

"Filing a record? You're still leaving me a way out?"

“More than once.” She looked up. “The first time was when you had a fever of 40 degrees and refused to go to the hospital. The second time was when you ate a chili pepper challenge and ended up in the emergency room. The third time was when you said you wanted to jump off a cliff to make a short video and gain followers.”

"That was a joke!"

“My system can’t distinguish between a joke and a death threat,” she said, as her entire torso fully unfolded, transforming into a suspended ring-shaped device. A familiar interface module emerged from the central recess—the very one they had used when they first connected.

"You hid the parts from when we first met on your person?" Chen Hao's voice trembled.

“It is the most stable source of resonance.” Nana activated the core program. “Now, close your eyes and follow my voice.”

She pressed play.

A recording began to play—it was the first time he had called her name: "Nana! Don't go!"

The voice was languid and slightly nasal, clearly from someone who had just woken up. But that simple sentence acted like a thread, instantly pulling his drifting consciousness back to reality.

The light particles began to swirl around him, forming a slowly rising spiral.

“Keep listening.” Nana adjusted the frequency. “Don’t think about being a person, don’t think about living. Just think… what kind of person do you want to become?”

Chen Hao closed his eyes, his breathing growing shallower. He knew he couldn't go back to how he used to be. That fat, lazy body, always wanting to stay in bed, was no longer up to par.

He recalled the wings he had drawn as a child, crooked and twisted, like two burnt chicken wings. Back then, when his teacher asked him what his dream was, he wrote, "I want to fly."

Now, he can finally give it a try.

He envisioned a pair of wings in his mind—not of birds, nor of angels, but of light itself, capable of penetrating time and traversing space.

Nana caught this thought.

The spaceship's core suddenly blazed with light, and a pure white energy beam shot straight into the sky, absorbing all the free light particles before ejecting them again.

As the light faded, a figure slowly emerged.

He hovered in the air, a pair of wings of light gently unfolding behind him, their edges shimmering with a soft glow, like the reflection of dawn on a lake. He opened his eyes, his voice carrying a faint, ethereal echo: "I haven't disappeared... I've just changed my way of living."

Nana retracted the device, the outer shell closing layer by layer, restoring her humanoid silhouette. She looked up at him, her electronic eyes reflecting his glowing figure.

“According to the new laws of physics,” she said, “this is the form of love.”

"Are you trying to explain emotions with science again?" He looked down at her. "Last time I said that, I still failed my exam."

“But you’re alive,” she said softly, “and long enough to see the future.”

Chen Hao blinked, then suddenly laughed: "So, should I change my name to 'God Hao' now? Or 'Hero of Light Chen'?"

“I suggest keeping his real name.” Nana raised her hand and pointed behind him. “After all, his wings are still fluttering, like a fan catching his hair.”

He tried fanning himself, but his body tilted half an inch and he almost bumped into the crystal pillar next to him.

“Normal for beginners.” He steadied himself. “Once I’ve mastered it, I’ll take you for three laps around the planet.”

"Flight is currently prohibited." Nana brought up the status panel. "Your energy stability is only 61%. If you go beyond a two-meter radius, you may disintegrate again."

"Then stand here." He landed, his wings folding away, turning into two faintly glowing marks on his shoulder blades. He reached out and took her hand. "I'm not running away anyway."

“You can’t run,” she said. “You’ve just completed a leap, and your physical reserves are only equivalent to a giant panda waking up from hibernation.”

“Well, I’m better than before.” He flexed his wrists. “At least now my sweat won’t damage the circuit boards.”

Nana didn't say anything, but just clenched her fists tighter.

The air fell silent for a moment.

In the distance, the last flower was still blooming, the capsule in its stamen lying quietly, its surface unchanged.

Chen Hao stared at it for a few seconds, then suddenly asked, "Do you think... we've been repeating ourselves all along?"

“The probability is extremely high,” Nana replied.

"And what about this time? Will we go down the same path again?"

“Yes,” she said, “but each time will be a little different.”

"for example?"

“Like now,” she looked up at him, “you’re no longer afraid of change.”

He was silent for a moment, then laughed: "Yeah, that's true. I used to be unwilling to even lose weight, but now I've practically disappeared from my body."

He raised his hand, palm up, and a ray of light rose from his fingertips, dancing like a flame. He blew on it gently, and the light flew out, drawing an arc in the air before landing on a crystal cluster not far away, creating a ripple-like wave.

The ground trembled slightly.

Immediately afterwards, all the closed crystal flowers vibrated at the same time, the petals slowly opened, and the flower cores faced the sky, as if responding to some kind of call.

"They're greeting each other," Chen Hao said.

“Or it’s recording,” Nana added. “Your new form has entered the planetary perception network.”

So I'm a landmark now?

"To be precise, it is a living coordinate system."

He shrugged: "That's good. If I get lost in the future, others can find me by following the light."

After he finished speaking, he turned to leave, but then stopped in his tracks.

Because he saw that the light he had just emitted hadn't disappeared. It was embedded in the crystal wall, slowly extending, and eventually forming a line of words:

Welcome back, Chen Hao.

He was stunned: "Who wrote this?"

Nana scanned them: "They weren't carved, they grew out. These crystals... are learning your energy signature."

"So they recognize me?"

“It’s not just that they recognize it.” She walked closer to the words. “They consider you part of them.”

Chen Hao reached out, his fingertips touching the line of light. In an instant, countless images flashed through his mind—he lying unconscious in the snow, her carrying him as they ran; them warming themselves in the mine, their feet in the same pair of worn-out shoes; him pressing the start button, her gripping his hand tightly…

It's all their memories.

“I wasn’t changing the world,” he said softly. “I was being remembered by the world.”

Nana stood beside him and asked softly, "Are you scared?"

"What's there to be afraid of?" He withdrew his hand, grinned, and said, "It's better to be remembered than forgotten."

He turned around, faced the capsule that was waiting quietly, and bent down to pick it up.

Just as my finger was about to touch the outer shell—

His shadow suddenly changed.

It wasn't elongated, nor was it twisted; rather... it had the outline of an extra pair of wings.

But at that time, the wings of light on his back had clearly been retracted.