Chapter 679: Those Things That Have Passed

Android Number 36.

The room fell silent. Amber stared quietly at the line of letters inscribed in the diary. For a full two minutes, she didn’t utter a word.

Just as Gawain was about to say something, Amber’s fingers moved again. She pressed her lips together and very slowly turned the page.

The story of Saril Randolf continued:

“…My mechanical watch broke. After relying on my pulse and intuition to mark the dates twice, I had to give up tracking ‘time.’ Now, I don’t know what day it is, but I estimate I’ve been trapped in this ancient fortress for at least half a month.

“During this time, only ‘Amber’ has kept me company.

“This little one sleeps quietly in her ‘bed,’ making no sound. In recent days, I’ve tried talking to her, though she doesn’t respond. Still, I do it every day—speaking helps keep my will and mind sharp, and a sleeping little girl is at least a better listener than a stone in the corner.

“…In all this time, those shadow dwellers have appeared only twice. Honestly, their presence brought me a strange kind of hope. They are eerie and somewhat frightening, but at least they’re some form of ‘living’ beings. Sometimes, I even entertained the mad idea of trying to communicate with those ‘ghosts,’ but it’s far too dangerous…

“I finally acted on that madness once, but the shadow dwellers ignored me completely. They just wandered through the room briefly before fading away.

“In the end, only Amber stayed with me.

“…My health is deteriorating, inevitably. The only sustenance I can find here is moss and water. In fact, it’s a miracle I’ve survived this long—moss growing in the Shadow Realm sustaining life is itself a blessing, isn’t it?

“I’m terrified. I’ve had a low fever—maybe from the cold floor, maybe from weakness. This minor illness nearly made me plan my final affairs immediately. But what’s the use of planning? Today, for the first time, I cursed the king. Honor has long since abandoned me.

“…How much time has passed outside? I’ve stopped keeping track of dates. Estimating time has become impossible. I can only rely on instinct. Maybe I’ve been here for years. The capital has probably listed me as missing, or, by the Royal Shadow Guard’s rules, as a ‘suspected traitor.’

“I’ve been cutting down on diary entries, writing less and smaller because my ink is running out. Even after diluting it several times, it’s still not enough. Tomorrow, I’ll try burning moss into ash and mixing it with water to make ink. If that fails… if I want to write anything in the future, I might have to use my own blood.

“I made some crude ink. The color is strange, and it smells odd, but it’s definitely usable!

“…Today something absolutely worth recording happened! Absolutely worth recording!!

“Amber moved—without a doubt, I’m certain she moved her little hand. She was sucking her own finger!!

“She’s alive! She really is alive!”

After this, Saril Randolf’s excited and scattered notes filled the pages, including his survival experiences in the Shadow Fortress. Amber seemed to grow impatient, flipping through the fragile yellowed pages faster until she stopped at a page where the handwriting trembled, the writer clearly agitated.

“…I don’t know what I did, or if it was even related to me, but suddenly the ancient device in the room made noises—strange water sounds and a buzzing from that large pillar. I nearly jumped as I rushed to Amber’s sleeping place. By the gods above—what did I see?

“The crystal container opened, and Amber was crawling out, using hands and feet, almost falling to the floor.

“To all the gods and ancients I know, I can’t describe the feelings I had at that moment—I slapped myself several times, banged my head against the wall, then shouted and screamed, trying every way to convince myself it wasn’t a hallucination. Only then did I accept it was real. Amber just sat there, staring blankly at me!

“Damn it, I hope I didn’t scare her.

“I realized moss was all I had to feed this little one—what could be more depressing, more nerve-wracking and terrifying? This poor child… how is she supposed to survive in this cursed place?

“There was still some pale yellow, thin liquid left in the egg-shaped container. At least it wasn’t poisonous. I tried feeding it to Amber, and she ate some quickly, but there wasn’t enough. I still have to figure out how to feed her properly.

“She won’t drink blood.

“The liquid in the container is almost gone. I have no choice.

“I fed her moss—I used an iron shell container I found as a pot, lit a fire with combustible trash from the warehouse, and boiled the moss until it became a mushy soup… When I made her drink it, I felt like I was feeding poison to this little one.

“She ate it, and for now, she seems fine. But I don’t know what will happen next… I’ll have to stay awake for a long time to make sure she doesn’t choke from vomiting…

“…Thank the gods! She’s okay!”

The handwriting on this page shook violently, the writer’s nervous excitement preserved in every stroke for decades. Amber stared intently at the gray-black letters, then whispered softly, “No wonder I never grew tall… right, Old Zongzi?”

That was the most unfunny self-deprecating joke Gawain had ever heard.

He reached out and gently pressed Amber’s hair. When his large hand covered her head, the half-elf’s body trembled slightly. She took a deep breath and continued turning the pages.

“…Just thinking about this little one having to eat moss with me fills me with guilt. But compared to the worst possible outcome, surviving is a huge blessing. I think I should stop complaining. At least now, I’m not alone anymore…

“Amber can’t speak. She only makes a strange hoarse sound, like the lowest whispers of those shadow dwellers. But she clearly wants to communicate. I spend most of my days talking to her. Though she can’t make the same sounds, I feel she understands some of what I say.

“Amber learned to help me make ink! She burns moss into ash, then stirs it into water. But I have to watch her closely because she tries to eat it…”

Amber’s fingertips moved slowly over the fragile, yellowed pages, turning them one by one, gradually reaching the diary’s end.

At the diary’s conclusion, Saril Randolf finally discovered the anomaly about the little one he had ‘adopted.’

“…I saw Amber communicating with those shadow dwellers!

“No, strictly speaking, it wasn’t a conversation, since Amber doesn’t have full speech yet. But they were definitely exchanging something—Amber gesturing to those sudden ‘ghosts,’ and they actually responded!

“I almost instinctively attacked the shadow dwellers, but when I realized how close they were to Amber, I was utterly stunned…

“…Amber possesses some shadow talent I can’t comprehend. I can confirm that now.

“She’s chatted with those shadow dwellers more than once, even dragged me into it last time—she seemed to be trying to introduce me to those terrifying ‘ghosts.’ I was so nervous I didn’t know how to react, and as usual, the ‘ghosts’ didn’t respond, which made Amber angry for quite a while.

“I even saw her moving swiftly through the room, wrapped in a shadowy power, running from one end to the other so fast that even I, a shadow adept, could barely keep up.

“She even entered a completely sealed room, using some advanced shadow jump…

“I think I’m beginning to understand why the ancient Gondorians put this little girl in that container… Such extraordinary shadow power—maybe this is the ‘achievement’ of those ancient Gondorians?

“I’m really curious about Amber’s secrets, curious about what those Gondorians were doing here…

“My curiosity made me recall the outside world. I told Amber a lot, describing flowers, trees, and bright colors. She was very confused, probably unable to imagine those scenes, but she seemed curious and cared deeply about what I described.

“I felt guilty—I shouldn’t have told her those things… She wants to go out. She wants to see the outside world. Though she can’t say it, I can feel her emotions and thoughts. But I can’t help her—I can’t get out myself!

“Amber has been restless these days. She started creating shadow-covered whirlpools and rifts in the room. I told her it was dangerous, but she wouldn’t listen—I don’t know what she’s trying to do, but it’s really, really dangerous!

“…This might be the last diary I leave in the Shadow Fortress.

“After being trapped so long, abandoned by the gods for so long, after I myself gave up hope… I never thought this day would really come—

“Amber opened a rift to the outside world!

“Though it’s still slowly growing and not yet big enough for a person to pass through, it’s definitely there before my eyes—bright sunlight and vivid colors, just on the other side of the rift!

“Farewell, cursed place!!”

The diary ended there. The following pages were blank.

The room sank into a deathly silence. After the sound of turning pages ceased, the stillness felt like a faded oil painting.

After several unbearable minutes of silence, Pittman was the first to break it.

“…When I first met Saril Randolf, he was weak and collapsed in the wilderness. His clothes were tattered, his hair and beard long, as if he’d been surviving outdoors for years. And you—back then, you just sat silently beside him, draped in a ragged cloth, neither crying nor fussing, eerily quiet.

“At that time, I was hiding from some pursuers, barely able to keep myself alive. When I encountered you two on the run, my first instinct was to leave immediately, letting you fend for yourselves in the wild…

“But just as I was about to leave, you moved suddenly and grabbed my robe—you know? You looked no older than four or five by human standards, but your strength was incredible. You grabbed me, as if begging me to save the dying man beside you. You barely spoke then, only making hoarse noises that didn’t sound human at all.”

“I was so nervous and scared back then. I struggled with all my might to shake you off, but you just got back up again. Then, in a panic, you pressed something into my hands.”

At last, Amber lifted her head slightly and looked at Pittman. “What was it?”

“A handful of grayish-black ‘moss,’” Pittman grinned, the deep wrinkles on his face folding and unfolding as if the memory amused him greatly. “It took me a while to understand what you meant. You were trying to pay me with moss, hoping I’d save the person beside you.

“I’ll never forget the look on your face—you held out that handful of moss like it was a treasure chest full of gold—

“You made me laugh, and then… I softened. I’ve never been able to shake you two off since.”

Amber’s eyes clouded with confusion. “I… don’t remember any of that.”

“Of course you don’t. Your memory didn’t stabilize until six years later, and before that, it took you four and a half years just to say your first word,” Pittman shook his head with a sigh. “Because your soul is synthetic—you’re an artificial human.”

(End of chapter)