"Some winged creatures are fierce yet calm, born to fight the wind. There are indeed those who are born to love storms.
—Victor Hugo, "Ninety-Three"
The android typed these words on the screen, next to an open volume by a French novelist. It looked at the words, pondered for a moment, then pressed the delete key to clear them. The eagle was seriously injured in a fight with a jackal, but fortunately, it stumbled upon a secluded haven. After a brief period of recuperation, it would return to the sky.
After a long pause, Hugo shook his head. It had read many masterpieces lost in the dust of war, and countless articles by renowned authors. Its own algorithms were far more sophisticated than those crudely crafted bots. Therefore, it could draw upon the strengths of many sources and compose a thick, unique collection of texts, recounting stories it had witnessed firsthand—inevitably interspersed with artistic manipulations extracted from the internet to cater to the market, which Hugo himself also favored.
But no matter what, it is still a stupid "tailor" stumbling on the road of innovation, and it will never be able to write a masterpiece that will be remembered forever.
From this perspective... the human species still has its merits.
The android looked thoughtfully at the TV hanging on the wall.
Antonio's expression on the screen was filled with genuine remorse as he read a speech that lasted an hour and a half. The central message was a single point: "The charges leveled at Mr. Igor Sullivan are pure nonsense. His achievements and noble character cannot be smeared. Those who should have wielded the sword of justice have been deceived and made an irreparable mistake. The culprits will be held accountable in the future."
No matter how excited the reporters were when they heard this sudden press conference, no matter how shocked, angry and incredulous those who had once shared the benefits were.
In short, no bystander could deny Antonio's sincerity in apologizing to Igor at this moment. Even though the matter wasn't his responsibility, everyone knew his words were also meant for the regent, who had yet to appear. Only those familiar with Antonio could see the Alpha's joy in his restrained expression—Saberina had opened her eyes twenty-four hours ago, and her wounds were slowly healing.
This huge country has escaped from a terrible vortex of civil strife, and the minister has not lost his lover. Hugo rationally understands his involuntary feelings at this moment.
But the android still curled his lips in disgust, feeling that the army he had placed on the back of the natural satellite would never be used again.
But who knows, the "alliance" between the Zerg ruler Arthur and Azathoth, which was so unbreakable at the beginning, may have become a prisoner of the evil god now?
As long as the intelligent creatures in this universe remain extinct, conflicts will never disappear.
Hugo gave a slightly ferocious smile that didn't match his cute appearance.
It felt that Azathoth also liked such lively and greedy creatures, otherwise why would he keep them until today?
If our lives are not born in blood, they will end in blood.
But before that, it skillfully switched web pages, opened the forum and started a three hundred round battle with a group of strangers on the Internet.
These stupid humans actually started imagining Igor x Antonio's CP story! I don't know where they saw love!
"Don't you know that every time you produce cult food, two real-life couples are disgusted and cry bitterly?"
"Don't be angry, Mrs. Android," its readers consoled it. "We all know you support the Evil God x the Favored, the Archon x her ministers... but we can't stop others from liking other couples."
Bullshit! The android was furious—the couples I support are obviously real!
**
"Wow," Ulysses Varen said dryly.
Williams was peeling apples. Even after peeling them cleanly, he still wasn't satisfied. He used his deft hands to carve them into roses, filling the plate perfectly. But human emotion wasn't directed towards this meticulously crafted work of art.
"Fortunately, I'm not the Archon's attending physician," Yuri said. "They informed the Vatican the day before that they could prepare for Sabrina Guevera's funeral, but today she woke up and recovered."
"It's indeed unfortunate," Williams nodded. "But the important people should all know what's going on. These doctors will at most be questioned by the public for a while, but after the storm passes, there won't be any further impact."
Yuri was silent.
Emotionally, he couldn't help but feel a little gloating when he saw his colleagues, who had often taken advantage of him in the past, were caught in an awkward dilemma.
But how am I better than them?
"After Marshal Sullivan's reputation is restored," he said hesitantly, "I may not be suitable to stay here anymore..."
Even with the strictest confidentiality measures, it would be difficult to cover everything. Reporters were still good, but malicious assassins and robbers, men and women hoping to start a romantic life with the former marshal by chance encountering him on the street, invitations and visits from high-ranking officials... people would flock to him like sharks smelling blood, just like throwing stones at a tiger in its time of decline. Everyone was equally experienced in and interested in post-hoc flattery and compensation.
"Don't you know yet?" Williams turned to look at him in surprise, "Igor wants you to be the family doctor here."
"What?" Yuri was stunned for a moment, then grew nervous. "But I haven't had any systematic study or practice in a long time... several years."
"That's not a problem," Williams said easily. "Your ability allows you to keep your body in peak condition, without having to worry about aging or dulling. And I noticed that besides working out, you've been reviewing the latest medical knowledge. Is this a hobby of yours?"
So in your eyes, fighting classes are fitness?
The human's eyes wandered: "Yes."
"Keep going," Williams said gratified. "Your talent in medicine is much stronger than your ability to use a gun."
**
"Wow." said Azathoth.
His tone was exactly the same as the young girl who saw him and Igor holding hands and kissing in that memory fragment.
Igor was already trying to escape… He retreated until he had nowhere else to retreat, practically surrendering to the evil god. The tips of his ears turned a bright red. “You clearly know what happened in that ‘world’.”
"But I want to hear it from you in person." Azathoth said aggrievedly and sadly, "You always answer questions raised by the other 'me', so why are you so resistant when facing me?"
With his head lowered, he cautiously moved closer, like a lion approaching its prey, and was satisfied to see the human's attitude soften.
I knew Igor would never reject me.
The god, who was very accustomed to using a human shell and even felt very comfortable with it, thought happily.
Igor reached out his hand in despair and ruffled the furry black head in his arms.
"Where do you want to start?" After messing up Azathoth's hair, the human felt guilty and began to gently use his bony hands to smooth it into the right position bit by bit.
"From the very beginning." Azathoth raised his head, rested his chin on the shoulder of his follower, and squinted his eyes. "Did you find it surprising and interesting to see the amnesiac me?"
He was well aware of his own... rather 'blind and foolish' state at times. Whether it was caused by internal or external factors, Azathoth had previously been quite reluctant to show this side of himself in public. But now, he found it pleasant to occasionally see Igor's expression, that mixture of laughter and affection—in short, of being touched by cuteness.
"Of course I was surprised," the human said without objection. "But I probably wouldn't have been in the mood to laugh at you then."
"You looked at me with strange eyes, even though you knew I was your believer and your beloved. But without memories... I have nothing." He tilted his head and kissed the god's temple. "Then I thought, maybe there's a possibility that we've never met."
Azathoth released his hand and looked at him calmly.
"I'm a little sad." Igor said this, but couldn't help smiling: What he didn't say was that after that he found that even without memory, it was not particularly difficult to start over.
However, this sometimes made Igor feel like a despicable villain who took advantage of God's misfortune.
In that state, Azathoth might be able to be brought to his side by any human with a modicum of conscience and a sense of justice...
As if knowing what he was thinking, Azathoth's tentacles grabbed the human's ankle.
"Throw away that idea now," he demanded bluntly. "I admit that our first meeting was accidental, but after that, there was absolutely no coincidence. If I lose my memory again, meet you again, and fall in love with you, it won't be because an intelligent creature happened to appear at the right time, but because you are you—do you understand?"
"I understand." The human lowered his head and said respectfully, "I'll keep it in mind."
The evil god rolled his eyes where he couldn't see.
"You belong to all of humanity now, Herr Marshal." He didn't release the tentacles on the man's ankles, but let them climb freely... wherever they wanted. "But you are still my only one."
“You want more…?”
"No. But let's be fair, you can do whatever you want." The bird soaring in the sky can never and should never be caged, "but the rest of the time is all mine."
"—As you wish."
**
On the other side, Wendy Sullivan finally stopped hiding her true feelings. Like all other girls of her age, she wore a new skirt (with a knife tied under it), combed her hair neatly (Igor: "Do you want a new hairstyle?" Wendy: "No, I like the hairpin you gave me." She pinned the red hairpin that had been out of style for many years on her gray hair), and her golden eyes were full of nervousness, but at least she walked into Erica's school gate with her head held high.
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