Memories shrouded in fog were in extreme disarray, and with just a brief exchange of words, Xi He evoked the deepest fears within.
In his dreams, he always saw himself standing aside, aloof and cold, as a girl about his age was disposed of by the organization.
The people around him held record books, noting down his reactions as well as each frame of the girl's transition from vibrant life to wilting death.
In the end, it would always be accompanied by a sentence, warm and calm, like a small hearth at a slight distance in winter.
"Zero, don't cry."
Zero recalled this memory repeatedly; the girl had died many times over, yet every now and then, he would relive this ordeal.
Oddly enough, although he clearly didn't remember who she was, she spoke to him as though she'd known him for a long time.
Sorrow once again surged in the young boy's heart.
