Chapter 62: Just like moths

Before sleeping, Bunny still had one guidance session left unfinished. The meeting had delayed it until now.

As usual, Xander escorted her to the guidance room. She nuzzled against his soft, broad chest for a good while before finally jumping down, still a little reluctant to leave.

Who could understand? Dating such a male felt absolutely wonderful—so much more reassuring than that rebellious brat at home.

If she rubbed against Liam’s chest a few times like that, the big brat would probably have his pants off in the next second.

"Good night, Bunny."

Xander pressed a light kiss to her cheek. In a pleasant mood she entered the guidance room. Tyr had not yet arrived.

Xander and Cyrus’s ranks were too high; for the time being they would not allow Bunny to perform mental guidance on them out of concern for the risks.

She tidied the room simply. Ten minutes later, Tyr finally knocked on the door.

"Sorry. I’m late."

She was not particularly familiar with this pink-haired man. She nodded at him. "It’s fine. Sit down first."

Unlike Rain and Arden, Tyr had made no peacock-like effort to dress up. He wore the most ordinary training uniform, the zipper pulled all the way up in a perfectly proper manner. ℯ

His long pink hair was simply tied back with a hair tie. He seemed to be the only one in the entire base who kept long hair.

The instrument reading showed an instability level of 89 percent. As per the usual rule, restraint equipment came first.

Tyr sat very straight. Every muscle in his body appeared tense; he did not look relaxed at all.

"Don’t be nervous. Cooperate with me and open your spiritual sea."

Sitting face-to-face with him, she took hold of his large hand. The rough gun calluses lightly scraped her skin.

What met her eyes was a murky, ochre-colored sky.

An endless stretch of desolate desert spread out in every direction, covered in broken stones and hard alkaline crust that cracked underfoot with every step.

Weathered hills stood jagged and solitary. Even the wind that swept toward her was dry and biting. The scorching sun baked the ground surface, and distorted heat waves dragged long, lonely rays of light across the Yardang landforms.

So hot. So dry.

She released her mental threads and began clearing the pollutants that had settled in the cracks of the earth and between the hills. Sticky beads of sweat rolled down her cheeks and neck.

Suddenly a deep, resonant cry came from the distance. A black speck dove from high altitude. After approaching her, it began circling and hovering around her.

It seemed to be carefully observing her. This was Tyr’s spirit form—a peregrine falcon.

Falcons were among the fastest animals in flight, capable of reaching 120 kilometers per hour. Prey locked onto by one had almost no chance of escape––because it could transform into a living bullet and dive in an instant, just like a fighter jet.

The large bird observed her for a long time without proactively approaching. Like its master, the spirit form was restrained and introverted.

Inside the guidance room, Tyr was staring blankly at the hands that held his own. Those hands were far too small, far too pale, far too delicate.

He had never seen hands like these—or rather, simply a woman’s hands.

After waking inside the breeding chamber, he had been thrown straight onto 616.

He and Xander had lived and died together for nearly ten years. That night, while the two of them were drinking, Xander—slightly tipsy—had seemed unusually excited.

He had told him that he was now dating the guide. She had not only held his hand but had even taken the initiative to kiss him.

Tyr had never seen Xander wear such a lingering, attached expression. "She said she would always stay with me."

In that moment, Tyr seemed to understand that his good brother had already begun to fall.

People who had been lonely for too long would throw themselves at a warm light source the moment they encountered one, just like moths.

Yet when Bunny had first arrived, Xander had clearly only regarded her as prey. What, then, had made him change his mind in such a short period of time?

A tiny spark of interest toward Bunny rose in Tyr’s heart—but only a tiny one. He no longer held many positive expectations for this world.

He was even waiting for the day of his own death.

After clearing every visible pollutant, Bunny prepared to withdraw. Yet the large, fierce falcon seemed to be guiding her, wanting to lead her somewhere.

Curious, she followed it. After walking for a very long time, she finally arrived at a valley thick with heavy mist.

The falcon stopped. Its orange-yellow eyes fixed on her without blinking. Complex emotions churned inside those avian pupils—emotions she could not decipher.

It seemed... to be pleading with her?

She stepped into the misty valley. Her vision instantly turned pure white.

She could see nothing. Within the swirling white fog came the piercing cries of birds and the sound of ghostly whispers.

A blinding flash of light passed. Suddenly she found herself standing on a battlefield piled high with corpses and severed limbs. Shredded flesh covered the ground; blood flowed in rivers. Even the sky had been dyed a vivid scarlet.

In the distance, a young boy with pink hair was using only the upper half of his body to crawl, step by painful step, through the pile of the dead.

His legs had already been torn off and devoured by aliens. His entire body was nearly soaked in a dark-red pool of blood; even his intestines had spilled across the ground.

He stared in the direction where Bunny stood, eyes shot through with blood, and with an expression of extreme unwillingness and distortion he screamed in despair:

"Brother, why didn’t you save me?"

"I hate you!"

Before the words had fully left his mouth, the boy was completely swallowed by a pursuing alien. The heart-rending scream made her hair stand on end.

Was this Tyr’s memory?

At that moment an accident occurred. She had mistakenly entered the deeper layers of Tyr’s spiritual sea. One more step and she would have entered his spiritual landscape, peeking into all of his secrets.

Tyr’s spiritual sea suddenly erupted into violent turmoil. Attempting to enter a sentinel’s spiritual landscape without having established sufficient trust was a major taboo!

The falcon had led her there because it still wanted to save itself.

In panic she withdrew—yet it was already too late.

Tyr’s entire body grew restless. His mental threads twisted and boiled as he frantically struggled against the restraint devices. His eyes turned ferocious and bloodshot.

His post-traumatic stress disorder had been triggered.