Beilisel was buried in the frozen valley, together with his fellow appliance men. Xiaobei returned home.

Sen was buried at the tombstone around the battle group, next to Xia Sheng's cemetery. Tredia was sleeping in the lotus pond of the ruined tower with her favorite flowers. Yaowen was on the hillside to the west, with Feisi's mother

The cemetery is next to each other, and a glass of milk is placed in front of the tomb. As for Lin Guang... there is no body left behind.

When Su Mingan faced the rows of tombstones as dark as ink, he was silent for a long time.

There are thousands of tombstones with different faces and names, the number is suffocating.

While he was standing quietly, a bouquet of flowers was placed on the tomb in front of him. He turned his head and saw a gray-haired old woman.

The old lady was obviously very old, but she tied her hair with a particularly bright red hair rope. She was wearing a long black dress, with countless strings hanging on her wrists, almost covering her arms. At a glance,

, there are probably hundreds of collaterals.

"You..." Su Mingan stared at the old lady's face.

The old lady slowly raised her head, bent her eyes, and smiled at him.

"Xiaoshuai, don't you recognize me?"

Su Mingan heard this call: "Xi, how could you..."

"This is the last simulation. I am a person with no future." Xi said: "Jiuxi's youth has been maintained by resources. The war is over and I have no need to stay young. This is my real age. You

You won't... think I'm ugly."

She grinned her loose teeth, and her smile revealed how she looked when she was lively and beautiful.

"No." Su Mingan shook his head.

They stood quietly in front of the tomb, one taller and one shorter. Her pupils were gray and white due to aging, but her eyes were very bright.

She looked at the tomb in front of her, with Asa Akto's name engraved on it: "Is this the tomb he built for himself?"

"Um."

"Are you going to carve a poem for him?"

"Um."

"Let's go together, I write very well."

"good."

Su Ming'an stretched out his hand, and Xi held his wrist to help him correct the handwriting. The carving knife fell on the tombstone, and the words of the ruined world fell down.

While carving, Xi whispered in his ear:

"Xiaoshuai, thank you."

"...It turns out that we electronic sheep can also dream of spring."

Su Mingan opened her mouth, but said nothing.

The last ray of sunset fell in the distance, and on the handle of the knife, which was covered with golden light, her blue and purple wrinkled hands were very warm.

In the boundless forest of steles, there seemed to be many souls standing here, holding flowers and singing songs.

"My dear, please don't be afraid in the dark,"

"Watch the dawn of new life with me,"

"We enjoy the wind of freedom."

"If the lamb runs between 0 and 1,"

"If butterflies dance among the flowers of data,"

"Honey,"

"Honey,"

"Do electric sheep dream of spring...?"

…

…

This is the last simulation. Two-dimensional people will disappear. Those laughter, those tears, those artworks and songs will no longer exist.

They are all people who cannot cross the future. Their 2,300 simulations are all to ignite the fire of the future, build a new city on the ruins of death, hold up the future human civilization, and watch people go all the way.

The light of hope.

While carving, Su Mingan seemed to hear the voice in his heart.

"Thank you for your forty years of dedication and companionship."

"It's a pleasure to fight with you."

It was also like someone was answering him across time -

"Nice to meet you too."

"Thank you, City Lord Su Mingan."

Many years later, what people glimpsed from history books and radio stories may only be a few short names, and the emotions, love and hate cannot keep up with the cold time. But there are always people who remember that on that cold night, someone held up a torch and said:

The gods declared war that they would never surrender.

Holding together to keep warm in the cold winter, lighting a beacon fire in the long night, and forging ahead in the dark night before dawn.

Under the knife, a short poem was carved on the tombstone.

…

【This is you in the end of the war,】

【The only warmth of a hug.】

[Walking through a land littered with corpses,]

【Standing on top of ruins,】

[You sang softly:]

【"This bright red paint is the color of blood,"】

【This cold metal has the texture of iron,】

[This strong soul is the burning of fire..."]

【You thought no one would go with you anymore,】

【But looking back I found,】

[There are also a group of comrades who have just said goodbye——]

[Standing quietly on a field full of flowers from the other side.]

…

…

On January 1, the seventy-second year of the Cataclysm, at 6:30 pm, the Battle of Dawn concluded.

There were 177.53 million participants in the war, 378.74 million auxiliary personnel, and 253.64 million deaths.

…
Chapter completed!