Gun of Ashes

The nightfall cloaks this vast whiteness, with radiant auroras and stars reflecting each other, flickering above the dome. Their gentle glow falls, reflected by the snowflakes, driving away the darkness of the deep night.

The Plague Doctor raises his head, able to see the aurora woven into a magnificent ribbon of light. As in the Silent Sea, it points towards the distant end, guiding the direction for a few people. The stars shine brilliantly at a higher place, like gemstones embedded upon them.

He has never seen such a clear sky, as if the distance between the Plague Doctor and the sky itself has been drawn closer. Perhaps advancing further can truly reach the end of the world, the Plague Doctor guesses there might be a gigantic, endless cliff there, leading to the Abyss below to Hell, and the starry sky above to the Celestial Kingdom.

His mood unknowingly relaxed, though terrifying dangers still lurk everywhere, the Plague Doctor does not feel much fear. He has reached this forbidden land, seeing sights unimaginable to ordinary people, and looking at it this way, it is quite worth it.

Taking a deep breath, the Plague Doctor looks to the other side. The campfire burns quietly, occasionally swaying gently as the breeze blows through.

The flickering firelight casts shadows on the faces of several people as they sit around the campfire to rest and prepare.

Watson’s body is a mortal frame. To avoid some sudden situations, she remains within the Armor of Original Sin, only using the [Gap] to communicate with Lorenzo.

The tall Black Angel kneels by the campfire, its engine running on low power, occasionally releasing steam and emitting heat.

Lorenzo sits opposite the Plague Doctor, picking up a piece of jerky, chewing while sprinkling lacquered antimony into the campfire.

Here, apart from endless ice and snow, there is nothing else, so they can only use lacquered antimony to burn, forming a makeshift campfire. In reality, none of them needs much rest, having transcended beyond common sense as the monsters stepping into Ascension. Yet to prepare for possible sudden incidents ahead, Lorenzo insists on taking a break, and he also needs time to confirm some other matters.

”I say, Holmes, don’t bother anymore. He really seems to remember nothing,”

The Plague Doctor advises, picking up a tin box stuffed with snow, placing it by the campfire and waiting for the snow to melt into water.

”Try once more, though I can’t remember who he is, but maybe he is someone close to us?”

Lorenzo refuses to give up, teasingly saying, ”Perhaps this guy is your friend, or your brother?”

The Plague Doctor remains silent, quite sure he has no friends or brothers, but aware of the power of the Anti-Meme, he cannot guarantee what he firmly believes is true.

Everything requires a contingency plan, in this ghostly place, the contingency is... So the Plague Doctor says nothing more, implicitly consenting to Lorenzo’s actions.

Lorenzo turns around, looking at this guy he is tethered with. Judging by appearance, this guy is quite old, scarred all over, with extensive bruises. After being captured by the Anti-Meme, Lorenzo and others dragged him a long distance.

He also finds traces of erosion on this guy, with symptoms of transformation appearing at limb extremities. This is not good news, but perhaps under the Anti-Meme’s shadow, the erosion infection is blocked. He is caught between human and Demon, having lost all memories.

Lorenzo swallows the last piece of jerky and starts asking the questions that have been repeated countless times.

”Name?”

”Froki Willgardson.”

”Age?”

”Froki Willgardson.”

”Occupation?”

”Froki Willgardson.”

”Origin?”

”Froki Willgardson.”

”...”

”...”

”What is one plus one?”

”Froki Willgardson.”

Lorenzo wears an exasperated expression, unable to hold back his shout.

”Apart from Froki Willgardson, do you have nothing else to say?”

This guy pauses, seemingly pondering the meaning behind Lorenzo’s words, racking his brain to think hard, in a blank memory, he digs out the only other word.

”Nautical Chart.”

Lorenzo exhales deeply.

Such conversation again, such conclusion again.

Shaking his head helplessly, once again Lorenzo gets no useful information, while after Lorenzo stops asking questions, this guy devours the jerky like a starving beast. His actions are terrible, and Lorenzo doubts whether this guy even remembers how to ”politely” eat.

”His name is Froki Willgardson?” the Plague Doctor asks.

”Probably? Who knows? It might be someone else’s name, or his own... Anyway, he only seems to remember this in his pitiful brain,”

Lorenzo speaks while trying hard to recall, but unfortunately, he cannot remember this unfamiliar face at all.

”I didn’t bring him back,” Lorenzo suddenly says.

The Plague Doctor casts a questioning glance, and Lorenzo continues.

”At the memory palace’s end, I didn’t find this guy, but he still appeared... He tore through a path using Watson’s erosion, escaping the Anti-Meme’s influence.”

Lorenzo is quite certain on this point, not having any memory about this guy is the best proof. Lorenzo has not recalled him; it is the guy himself who remembers himself.