Chapter 37

“Scram!”

Horne suddenly pushed him away with force, but Hels held on too tightly and did not budge an inch. He hugged Horne, almost pressing him into his own body.

“Scram, ah, ah——!!” A heart-wrenching scream.

The suffocating abyss squeezed him in the middle. He grew more and more breathless. He ran with all his might until he reached a cliff, then leaped off and plunged into the sea of the abyss.

Breath rushed in from his neck into his clothes. Horne snapped awake. In that instant, he only felt the tight embrace and the hand that kept stroking his hair. A familiar voice whispered softly by his ear, “Don’t be afraid. I’m here, always here. Be good. It’s okay now. That kind of thing won’t happen again, okay?”

By the end, Hels’s voice was almost choked with sobs. He gritted his teeth and buried his head in Horne’s neck. Even the hand soothing him trembled.

Horne opened his eyes and watched as everything around him gradually turned white. He murmured, “It hurts so much.”

Hels released him and instead cupped his face, gently wiping away the tears on his cheeks with his thumb, but the tears kept falling nonstop.

“It’s all in the past, okay?” Hels said softly. “It’s fine now. You’re better.”

He soothed him with gentle words until Horne stopped struggling. Hels closed his eyes and leaned forward slightly until their foreheads touched.

“It’s okay now. Everything’s okay. Be good,” Hels murmured.

Hels hugged him again, wrapping both arms around him and cradling the back of his head, slowly calming his emotions.

Horne no longer resisted. Hels carried him back to the sofa. The equipment resumed operation, and half a minute later, Horne completely quieted down and fell into a coma, leaving only the mechanical hum.

The entire treatment room fell into a terrifying silence.

Siselen cleaned up the potted plant that had just fallen and shattered. He silently stared at the broken tiles and sighed.

Hels never spoke. His face was grim as he kept wiping the sweat from Horne’s face with tissue paper and occasionally stroking his chest lightly.

Siselen returned to his seat and spoke up. “Hippocampus activity enhanced, connections strengthened in the prefrontal cortex and other regions, synaptic plasticity enhanced, EEG, alpha waves, and gamma waves enhanced.”

Hels did not reply.

After finishing, Siselen added, “He’s remembering.”

Hels still said nothing. He kept watching Horne closely and occasionally pressed a hand to his chest to feel his gradually steadying heartbeat through direct touch.

Siselen said, “His reaction was very intense. The strongest emotions surface first.”

“Shut up,” Hels said coldly.

Silence.

Two hours later, Horne fully awoke. He got up and immediately rushed to the bathroom to vomit. Then, with his dizzy head swaying, he returned and sat down on the large sofa to rest.

Siselen handed him a cup of hot fruit juice. Horne took it but did not drink. He sat in silence, staring at the rippling drink.

So many people, so many people. They were like faceless puppets filling his memories.

After a long time, he looked up at Siselen. “The strongest emotions come back first?”

Siselen nodded.

Horne thought for a moment.

Though he could not recall specific events, he remembered his own emotions.

There was fear, despair, pain, even regret and unwillingness.

It hurt a lot, both mentally and physically, just like in his conversation with Hels before the treatment. The specific memories were gone, but he could still recall the emotions and sensations they had brought.

Ben Yian. At the thought of that name, Horne’s breathing quickened. He immediately shifted his attention, and the feeling slowly eased.

He turned his head and saw that Hels’s complexion was poor. From the moment he woke up, Hels had not said a single word.

Horne called his name. “Hels?”

Hels looked up and finally reacted. “Hm?” He glanced over and asked, “What’s wrong? Do you feel unwell anywhere?”

Horne said, “No, I’m not unwell. I just saw you weren’t speaking.”

“Oh, I’m fine.” Hels turned away.

Horne’s gaze fell on the tile that had been smashed into four pieces, then on Hels’s hand, which was slightly bleeding.

He opened his mouth and asked, “Why did you smash the floor?”

Hels frowned and answered casually, “It pissed me off.”

Horne: “……”

After a moment, Horne asked Siselen, “Can we continue?”

The moment he spoke, Hels shot to his feet. “You still want to continue?!”

Horne was stunned. Hels immediately realized his reaction was too strong. He suppressed his anger, forced himself to calm down, and said, “Let’s talk about it after some time.”

Horne thought for a bit and said uncertainly, “I feel much better now, and I’ve remembered some things. It seems like we could try again.”

Hels fell completely silent.

The pressure he exuded sent chills through the air. Horne changed his tune. “Forget it. I’m hungry.”

Hels sat back on the sofa. “What do you want to eat?”

Horne said, “I don’t know. You decide. I’m going to the bathroom first.”

The door closed, and the room fell quiet, with only the faint sound of running water from inside.

Hels leaned back against the sofa, not wanting to speak at all. Siselen stood before him, his tone flat and emotionless. “This is a sign of recovery.”

Siselen continued, “Your initial request was that you hoped he would never remember. I want to ask if you still insist on that.”

Hels glanced at him and frowned. “Cut the crap. What are you trying to say?”

Siselen sat down beside Hels. “I want to say that a person’s fate must be decided by themselves. No one has the right to interfere. There’s a clear boundary between people. Only with the other person’s permission can you cross that boundary and glimpse inside, whether you’re their parent, child, lover, or best friend.”

Hels closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Of course he knew that.

The bathroom door opened. Horne came out, water droplets on his face and the tips of his hair. He paused midway and saw Hels sitting on the sofa, hands clasped together, head buried in his palms.

Horne was much better now. He gradually recovered from the breakdown and returned to his normal state. In a calm tone, he asked, “What’s wrong? Is my condition really bad?”

Hels lifted his head and smiled at him. “No. I was just thinking about a very real problem.”

“What?”

Hels thought for a moment and said, “Right now, I really want to eat ice cream.”

Horne: “……”

Horne turned around. “I’ll go buy some. Wait for me at the door.”

Hels said, “Cheese flavor. Get one for yourself too.”

“Got it.”

Horne felt he had a good grasp of Hels’s way of speaking. He probably wanted to discuss his condition with Siselen but did not want him to know.

He only hoped Hels would not grow suspicious because of his instinctive avoidance.

In the room, Hels had nothing to discuss with Siselen. He stood up and looked out the window at Horne’s receding figure heading into the alley. In a heavy voice, he said, “Actually, Han Ya was right. Out of selfishness, I didn’t want him to remember those things, even if it meant living in a false Garden of Eden. But Horne is someone who pursues truth to the extreme. When he sneaked into the Tower through the drainage network, when he endured such pain just to remember, I knew…”

Though Horne was a romanticist, what he wanted had never been a utopia.

Siselen stood behind him, his calm tone unaffected by anything in the world. “I’ve always disagreed with your interference in his life. Good thing you changed your mind.”

Hels let out a scoff. He watched Horne’s figure disappear around the corner, then turned around and stretched lazily. “There’s no changing my mind or not. I just don’t want to stop him from pursuing what he wants.”

Though he had wanted to stop him at first, thinking those memories might be too much for Horne to bear, it was ultimately just his own projection.

He was not Horne. There was no need to weave a so-called well-intentioned lie.

Siselen looked at the cracks on the floor and asked, “You never told me about what happened back then. Do you know when that memory fragment he just recalled was from?”

Hels’s fingertips dug deep into his skin, nearly breaking through. “Of course I know.”

It was the day Horne died.