The arcade was loud — neon lights strobing over rows of machines, laughter bouncing off the walls, the air thick with the smell of instant noodles and metal coins.
Qiū Huà Bǐ sat alone in the corner booth, a half-eaten popsicle melting beside him as his thumbs tapped the arcade joystick.
He wasn't really playing — just zoning out.
Every sound around him helped drown out the one thing he couldn't shut off.
Voices. Thoughts. Emotions.
It was chaos — but it was his kind of chaos.
He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling lights.
"Normal people," he muttered under his breath, "have no idea how loud they are."
Then he jammed another coin into the slot. The screen flared to life — Game Start.
---
By the time the last of the arcade lights dimmed, Yè Yī was unlocking the door to his small apartment.
He'd expected silence. Instead, he was met with the crunching sound of potato chips.
Violet sat cross-legged on his couch, a half-empty bag in her lap, eyes glued to the muted TV showing a weather forecast.
"Yo," she said, without looking up. "You're late."
YÈ YĪ:
"I don't remember inviting you."
VIOLET (grinning):
"Yeah, you didn't. I let myself in."
She popped another chip into her mouth.
YÈ YĪ (flat):
"You picked the lock?"
VIOLET:
"Technically, I unpicked it. Big difference."
He sighed, dropped his bag, and walked past her toward the kitchenette.
The only light came from the TV's glow — faint blue against the walls.
YÈ YĪ:
"You said ET was looking for something. What was it?"
VIOLET:
"Oh, that." She crumpled the bag and tossed it aside. "Yeah, they were tearing the place apart. But they didn't find it."
YÈ YĪ (turns):
"Why not?"
She smiled — the kind of smile that meant she was about to cause him a headache.
"Because I swapped it."
He froze.
"You what?"
Violet reached into her hoodie pocket and slowly pulled out a small golden plaque — rectangular, engraved with old characters that glowed faintly when it caught the TV light.
VIOLET:
"This. It was hidden inside your great-grandfather's memorial tablet. They didn't even notice the switch. I had to melt it though, over a fire for fifteen.... "
She placed it gently on the table between them.
Yè Yī stared at it, expression unreadable, but something in his jaw tightened.
He stepped closer, gaze fixed on the object like it might vanish.
YÈ YĪ (quietly):
"I didn't even know he had anything like that."
VIOLET:
"Yeah, most people don't know what their ancestors hid from world-ending organizations. Kind of a generational thing."
She flopped backward on the couch, arms behind her head.
"Anyway, congratulations — your family might've been more important than you thought."
YÈ YĪ:
"That's not something to joke about."
VIOLET:
"Wasn't joking. You're just bad at reading tone."
He looked at the plaque again.
"What is it?"
Violet sat up, her expression finally serious.
"It's old. Pre-Specialist era, maybe — but whatever it is, ET wants it bad. Like, wipe-out-a-village bad."
Yè Yī's eyes darkened.
"They already did."
For a moment, neither spoke. The rain outside picked up, tapping against the window in dull rhythm.
Violet leaned forward, elbows on knees.
"You wanna know what I think?"
He didn't answer.
VIOLET:
"I think your family was part of something bigger. And now you're stuck cleaning up the leftovers."
YÈ YĪ (low):
"Then maybe it should've stayed buried."
VIOLET (softly, but firm):
"Yeah… but things buried too long don't stay quiet forever."
---
Silence again.
Violet's fingers brushed the plaque, tracing the markings. Her usual smirk faded for once.
"You know what's weird?"
YÈ YĪ:
"What?"
VIOLET:
"It hums. Like… it recognizes you."
He didn't move, didn't speak — but she could tell from his face that he felt it too.
A faint vibration in the air, a pulse that synced with his heartbeat.
---
VIOLET (quietly):
"Guess whatever this thing is… it's not done with you yet."
(to herself)
"You can't tell them everything, right? Sometimes .. some things are best discovered by oneself".