Officer X: You Who Traveled Across Time (Extra)
*If your daughter dies
*British if line, Sleepless in Paris Tonight, Roses Don't Cry
Overhead Background
The characters and worldview are privately designed and have nothing to do with real history.
System Document
At the entrance of the Latin Quarter Church Hospital, the signs of a catastrophe were obvious, and the ensuing fear and despair permeated everything. You lost your support and staggered to fall, but the quick-eyed and quick-handed Pike caught your arm.
The power coming from your arm calmed you down briefly, and you continued to walk among the white clothes and blood like a zombie.
The nurse took you to the ward, which was less than fifteen square meters and was surrounded by a group of people. Emma was lying on the hospital bed.
You rushed over and knelt beside the bed, your hands trembling in the air, not daring to touch. With every glance, your soul evaporated a little bit in silence.
Emma's small body was a dazzling white because it had been soaked in water for too long. Her originally fleshy little hands were now severely swollen, and her purple lips looked so abrupt on her lifeless face.
She lay there motionless, the end already obvious.
The gray-haired French doctor explained again and again in French: "Sir, Madame, I'm sorry, there is no chance of saving the child. The child is dead."
Emma, your child...
Your child is dead...
You suddenly covered your ears with your hands, but it was of no use. The words just now were instantly engraved on every fragile nerve of yours, as if they were sucking out the marrow from your bones.
Your Lai is dead...
Now your Emma is dead too...
The echoing voice lingered in your ears like a maggot clinging to your bones. You raised your head in panic, trying to find the source of the sound. The horrifying fear once again entered your light blue eyes because you saw the lingering sympathy in the eyes of the people around you.
…
In the ward, the medicine in the infusion tube could be heard dripping.
Fiennes sat beside you, watching over you. He hadn't shaved for a few days, and a thin layer of stubble had grown on his chin. He looked rough, lazy, and unkempt. His blond hair, which had been combed back meticulously, now had a few strands of hair falling out.
Feynz's heart had never been so painful. He held your hand without the needle tightly. His desolate deep blue eyes were moistened and he stared at you without blinking.
He repeated your name in his mind over and over again, as if the name also had the effect of healing wounds. If he called it long enough, the cracks in the wound would heal themselves.
…
You slowly opened your eyes. The afterglow of dusk filled the room, making you feel a little dazzling. You closed your eyes again slightly.
You suddenly feel like something is blocking your throat, with a fishy and sweet taste in the middle of your throat, neither going up nor down, and you can't tell whether this is an illusion of pain.
After he returned to the room, you were half-sitting on the bed, frantically pinching, kneading, and rubbing your neck with your hands. The needle on the back of your left hand was bleeding, and the needle was pulled out and drooping on the ground, leaking medicine.
"Ina!"
Feinz strode forward and grabbed your hand, then checked your neck, reaching out and carefully stroking the red pinch marks on it. His words had lost their viciousness, replaced by complete impatience.
"What's wrong? What's wrong? Talk to your brother. Is your throat uncomfortable? Do you want to vomit? Ina? Ina?"
"Mother……"
"It hurts so much..."
"I want to go home..."
You stare blankly at the person in front of you, and your discomfort suddenly increases sharply. The last bit of light in the world is completely extinguished, turning into questions that cannot be expressed in words. They are light and empty, as distant as if they have been tossed away by time for a long time, and as weak as a drop of water falling to the ground.
Feints hugged you tremblingly, burying his face in your shoulder, muttering incoherent apologies and letting out the most suppressed sobs you had ever heard before, and something cold slid into your neck.
…
Your mental state is very bad. Most of the time you sit alone, unable to see people or hear any sound. There is always moisture in your eyes, and two lines of tears suddenly fall for no reason.
You are often awakened by nightmares. When he is around, he can share some of your pain; when he is not around, you have to endure the palpitations and anxiety alone.
The child is the invisible rope that maintains the relationship between you. If it wears out once, you can continue it, but now the rope is completely broken and can never be restored.
"Meow"
The cats in the Earl's Mansion walked to your feet and rubbed against you. One of them jumped onto you with force. You stroked its fur blankly, your eyes looking elsewhere.
【Zizizi... (electrical sound)】
[Host, I'm sorry, the combination of different worlds is a disordered existence]
No one can change the course of history
[Hidden quest line still needs to be completed]
There was a sudden sound of electricity in your head, your brain buzzed, and you came back to your senses in an instant, and woke up.
You glanced down and saw the white buckle tied around the cat's neck. It blended in with the creamy white fur and would go unnoticed unless you looked closely.
You removed the note from inside the latch.
Zn
Lizzie, you will come in three days.
Au
Sally...
Sally asked you to meet her at the base in three days...
At this point, there's no need for you to stay in Paris any longer...
You can't dwell on the past anymore, you need to move forward.
…
You were tending to roses in the back garden when Fiennes came back early and looked for you everywhere. He came up to you and hugged you, lowering his head to rub your face. You felt uncomfortable with the unshaved stubble on his face and pushed him away.
"elder brother……"
Seeing that you had resumed addressing him, Feinz was in much better spirits, no longer in the trance he was in before. He was pleasantly surprised and asked, "Ina?"
“Yeah,” you hugged him back, your lowered eyes obscure and hard to read.
He changed his clothes and sat on the mahogany chair. You smeared shaving cream on his face, dipped the razor in hot water, and shaved him with the blade against his skin.
"Yina, once your brother's leave is approved, we'll go to Berchtesgaden together. The lake there is beautiful. Then we'll..."
When he spoke, his jaw moved around and you accidentally scratched a small cut. You couldn't help but complain and said anxiously: "Brother, don't talk. I scratched you. Does it hurt?"
"Ina, it doesn't hurt." Feinz was completely immersed in the joy of your recovery. He tilted his head back obediently and let you scrape the skin near his throat clean.
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