The camera's red light was still blinking, but nobody cared anymore.
Sirin sat on the floor.
She didn't struggle to stand like before. She didn't glare at anyone with those golden eyes either.
She just sat there, knees drawn up without thinking, arms wrapped around them, face buried in the crook of her elbows.
Like a child abandoned by the whole world, hiding in a corner and trying to steal back a tiny bit of warmth for herself.
Her shoulders were trembling.
A very small tremor—so slight you could miss it if you weren't looking.
Her long purple hair, once wild and domineering, now hung obediently down, covering her shaking back.
"Cecilia…"
The name rolled around in her mouth—metallic as blood, sweet as frosting.
It hurt too much.
And it tasted too sweet.
The only warmth she had ever truly touched.
She remembered that embrace.
She also remembered everything inside the illusion.
Even in a fake paradise, that hug had been warm, that voice had been gentle, that woman had stroked her head and called her a good child.
But then… what came after?
Only fire. Only explosions. Only the shriek of Honkai energy tearing everything apart.
Honestly, she had killed Cecilia, hadn't she?
If not for her, Cecilia wouldn't have died.
But if she hadn't been dragged into Babylon Tower and turned into an experimental subject, none of it would've happened either.
So she could only hate humanity.
Because if she didn't hate… what meaning did her life even have?
But now someone had told her: behind it all, there was a name.
Otto.
She didn't know him—but the instant the name was spoken, something deep in her mind woke up: a reflexive disgust, and a reflexive fear.
Because now she understood: Otto was the mastermind behind the Babylon experiments. And yes—she bore guilt for Cecilia's death.
But if Otto hadn't fired that Honkai fission bomb… could Cecilia have lived?
When Sirin was being experimented on, she'd heard other kids mention a word: blank space.
Blank space was imagination.
Imagination was the white snowfield being able to hold another future.
And she couldn't stop herself from imagining it—Cecilia living.
If she didn't hate everyone… if she didn't destroy the world…
Then what?
If she didn't vent this hatred somewhere, she felt like a vast emptiness would swallow her whole.
But now, the target had become clear.
No longer a blurry "humanity."
A single, hateful name: Otto.
"Is he… worse than me?"
After a long time, Sirin's voice finally slipped out from the crook of her arms.
Bai Qian didn't answer right away.
He simply looked at her.
The camcorder had already been tossed aside onto the sofa like junk.
He knew this wasn't the moment for noise.
Sometimes silence was heavier than any speech.
He gave Sirin time.
Let her piece her broken logic back together.
Let her dig up memories buried under hatred.
Kiana was still standing there. She'd wiped her tears, but her eyes were still red. When she looked at Sirin, there was that quiet understanding shared by people who'd been hurt in a similar way.
Raiden Mei glanced anxiously between Kiana and Bai Qian.
She wanted to speak—until the Herrscher of Thunder tugged her sleeve.
The very same Herrscher who'd been electrocuting people moments ago now shook her head softly at Mei.
Not now.
Finally, Bai Qian spoke.
"I can't rank good and bad," he said. "I just know one thing: he makes me sick."
He bared his teeth in a grin that had no warmth. "If you're a victim, then he's the director who hands out knives just to enjoy the show. You caused Honkai because you hurt. You hate. You want the whole world to hurt like you did. That's venting."
He crouched down until his eyes were level with Sirin's.
He didn't dodge her dim gold gaze. He did the opposite—like he meant to pierce the brittle shell and stare straight at the trembling soul inside.
"But Otto's different," Bai Qian said, voice steady. "He doesn't hurt. He doesn't itch. Cecilia, you—both of you were chess pieces to him. He might feel 'sad,' sure. Then he'll sacrifice you anyway. For the sake of a lover who died five hundred years ago, he'll put the entire world on a spit and roast it."
He lifted one finger and lightly poked Sirin's forehead through her arms.
"So if we go back to your question—yeah. I won't deny his contributions. But nobody gets to take away someone else's right to hate."
Sirin jolted her head up.
In those golden eyes, the dead-as-ash stillness cracked.
Something hotter surged up—like magma punching through stone.
Sick.
Yeah.
That was the word.
It wasn't just hatred.
It was disgust.
If vengeance meant working with these people—aiming the first spear at Otto, and only then pointing the second spear at humanity—
…then at least her hatred had a shape now.
"I'm a Herrscher," Sirin said tightly, staring at Bai Qian like she was trying to carve truth out of his face. "And you're cooperating with me."
"Oh," Bai Qian replied.
"I did wrong," she continued. "And it's not something that goes away just because I admit it."
"Mhm. If you're wrong, you fix it. If you're wrong, you own it. If you own it, you find a way to fix it. Even if you can't admit it to others, you have to admit it to yourself. And if you're too ashamed to fix it openly—then fix it in secret. That's still fixing it."
Sirin's throat bobbed.
"And if someone comes looking for revenge," she asked, voice trembling, "what will you do?"
"As long as it doesn't involve Kiana," Bai Qian said flatly, "I'll clap. The person who kills you becomes the hero. I protect my own, not abstract 'fairness.' If Kiana wants to shoulder your sins, I'll help her."
Sirin looked at Kiana.
Kiana had heard it too. She bit her lip and nodded.
Even she understood: you couldn't erase past crimes just by changing a name.
Kiana existed because Sirin existed. Her body carried a piece of Sirin.
Maybe she was just a Sirin who'd grown up with a good childhood and a better environment.
If she could become Sirin—
Could Sirin become her?
"I want to grind him into dust."
Sirin's voice shook, but every word was squeezed out between her teeth.
"Even if I burn myself to ash—I'll grind him to dust first."
"I'm cooperating with you only to kill Otto."
Then, as if she suddenly realized what she was doing and needed to patch her pride back together, she added harshly:
"And if you won't cooperate, I don't care. I'll just solve humanity and Otto together."
Bai Qian stood up, looking down at the once-untouchable Void Herrscher—now a battered girl standing inside a black room.
"I've got the courage to walk with demons," he said.
"At least on the subject of killing Otto, our goals align."
Sirin finally stood.
No tears on her face.
Herrscher pride—stubborn, ridiculous—refused to allow her to cry, even when her mind was a storm.
"I'm going to kill him," she said, looking Bai Qian dead in the eye.
Not a hysterical scream.
Not haughty arrogance.
Just a flat, heavy certainty.
"Not only for myself."
She bit her lip. There were still little tooth-marks there from when she'd been enduring pain—tiny beads of blood at the edge.
"Also for Cecilia."
She flicked a glance toward Kiana, then immediately snapped her eyes away.
"Don't misunderstand! I'm not doing it for you! I'm just… I just don't want Cecilia to be disappointed, that's all!"
That familiar tsundere bite crept back, a little.
She was turning back into a pufferfish.
Except this time…
She was a pufferfish with no air left.
Deflated.
Bai Qian smiled.
"Deal. And you know what I want. You're going to open at least part of your Herrscher authority to Kiana."
He held out his hand.
Sirin stared at that hand for a long time.
It wasn't thick or sturdy. If anything, it looked a bit thin.
The old Sirin would've chopped it off without a second thought—or pierced it clean through with a Void Lance.
But now…
She hesitated.
The camcorder was still over there, cold and silent. It was off, but the fear of being recorded in humiliation was still lodged in her bones.
Yet compared to that…
Compared to Otto—
Compared to the man who killed Cecilia—
Her hatred outweighed everything.
Slowly, Sirin reached out.
Her fingertips trembled.
And when her hand finally fell into Bai Qian's palm, she felt warmth.
If Cecilia could see me take the first step… would she be happy?
-------
My : pat*eon*com/RuneA
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