Elegy from Another World

Having gained self-awareness, Honey felt as if she had truly come to life. Like a newborn child, she explored the Dresden Shield with curiosity and a touch of trepidation, but no matter where she went, she would always eventually return to the increasingly distant "Watchman." This attachment did not seem to weaken with the awakening of consciousness; instead, it gained a more conscious and proactive companionship.

A few days later, she stood before the "Watcher," looking up at the swaying light and shadow, and earnestly made a request: "The name 'Honey' was given by the Glimmer. Now, I have a new beginning... Could you give me a new name? A name that belongs to 'you and me'?"

The light and shadow of the "Watcher" flickered slightly, conveying a warm yet helpless sentiment: ["Naming you... is my greatest honor. But... Honey... you should know that any name I bestow... will ultimately be erased by my characteristics. You may soon forget the origin of your name, or even forget that I ever named you."]

A hint of sadness flashed in Honey's eyes, but she stubbornly pursed her lips.

I stepped forward and offered a compromise: "How about this? 'Watchman,' you tell me the name you've chosen in Morse code, and I'll relay it to Honey. This way, the name itself will be 'filtered' by me, perhaps avoiding direct erosion by anime, and at least it will be preserved."

The Watcher paused for a moment, seemingly considering the feasibility of the plan, before finally agreeing. ["Okay. Please give me some time."]

In the time that followed, the dim light seemed to be immersed in endless thoughts. He wandered through the river of memories, passing by Lily's curiosity, Nightshade's protection, Quicksand's wisdom, Sky's resolute determination, and countless companions who had been swallowed up by the torrent of data... He wanted a name that could bear all of this, yet be light and full of hope.

After a long while, he used that slow and steady light signal to transmit a string of Morse code to me.

Short, long, short, long, short, long—I carefully recorded and decoded it, finally arriving at an extremely concise syllable:

【菈】.

There is only one word.

I looked at "The Watcher," whose eyes flickered slightly, as if confirming something. I nodded, then turned to the expectant Honey, and solemnly said, "The name he gave you is—La."

"La?" Honey repeated the syllable softly, her amethyst eyes filled with confusion. "Why 'La'? Does it have any special meaning?"

I relayed the "Watcher's" interpretation: "He said that the sound 'La' means 'connection' and 'rebirth'."

["Connecting the memories of the past with the path to the future,"] The light and shadow rippled softly, ["It also symbolizes a new life sprouting at the end. It is brief, yet full of resilience, like a tender shoot stubbornly emerging from ruins. May you... be like this word, bearing the weight of the past, yet forever growing towards the light."]

As Honey listened to this explanation, tears welled up in her eyes, but she nodded vigorously and gave a bright smile: "Yes! I like this name! La... I will remember it! Thank you!" She turned to "Watcher," knowing that she might eventually forget, but the joy and gratitude she felt at this moment were incredibly real.

From then on, Honey had a new name—La. She accompanied the "Watcher," helping him research data, gazing at star charts, and weathering every moment when data structures were quietly collapsing. Even when the "Watcher's" figure had faded to the point of almost blending into the background noise, La stubbornly stayed by his side, warming his final journey with her newfound consciousness and emotions.

However, the decay was happening faster than anyone had anticipated. What was initially estimated to be three years had, in less than a year, seen the core code of "Watchmen" crumble into an irreversible final stage. Noise, like spreading mold, had covered its entire body, making the ball of light appear fragmented, as if it might vanish completely into nothingness at any moment.

A more serious problem is that, as an anti-meme code, its complete disappearance may not only be its own annihilation, but also a collapse of a local information vacuum, deleting a large amount of data within its influence. Although Edseys and I repeatedly emphasized that we were willing to take this risk and hoped that he could stay with us and peacefully complete his final journey.

But the Watcher refused. Though his will was fragmented and disrupted by distortion, it remained exceptionally firm:

"No...we can't...drag...onto...'Stein'...this is...our home..."

"What I bring... should be hope... not... disaster..."

We couldn't persuade him. In the end, we could only respect his wishes and prepare his final resting place.

The day had finally arrived. The Dresden Shield's central armory stood solemnly silent, all core members gathered there, even Mia Reilly and others from the Starship attended via holographic projection. A heavy atmosphere of sorrow and reluctance filled the air.

In the center of the armory sat a custom-made, silver-white, sealed container, its streamlined exterior gleaming with a cold, sacred light. Inside, there were no complex instruments, but rather a profusion of pure white flowers that had grown on me, emitting a faint glow and a delicate fragrance, like a tranquil and solemn coffin, a testament to my final sorrow and blessings.

The "Watcher," its light and shadow almost completely swallowed by noise and blurred to the extreme, floated slowly, step by step, towards the container, supported by La (though she couldn't actually touch it). La fought back her tears and followed closely beside her.

At the hatch, he stopped and gave us one last "look." His voice, broken and severely distorted, came through the communication channel, as if from a distant horizon:

"Thank you...to all of you..."

"Let's continue... sailing..."

"With... 'La'... and... 'Stun'..."

La finally couldn't hold back her tears, which streamed down her bionic cheeks. Edseys' eyes were red, Zoimem bit her lip tightly, and Naa turned her head away; everyone was immersed in immense grief.

For safety reasons, and also to follow his wishes, the procedure was pre-set. The instant his illusory figure completely disappeared into the sea of ​​white flowers, the hatch silently and swiftly closed and locked.

Immediately afterwards, a slight vibration was felt—the sealed container was ejected by a special launcher, transforming into a silver streak that shot resolutely towards the distant, eerie, and mysterious miniature galactic core. There, the potential information catastrophe that might be triggered upon his dissipation could be minimized.

In the moments before the container was completely swallowed by that incomprehensible, unobservable galactic core, within the last fragment of the "Watcher's" consciousness—

Noise swept across the entire "field of vision" like a blizzard, while the core code, like ice crystals under the sunlight, silently crumbled and dissipated. There was no pain, no fear, not even much regret. Instead, there was a strange, unprecedented tranquility. It was as if a long-distance traveler had finally reached their destination, able to unload all burdens and sleep peacefully.

He seemed to see Lily and Nightshade smiling at him in the distance, he saw quicksand and the sky beckoning to him, and he saw the figures of countless fallen comrades converging in the light...

Amidst the silent tears and heartfelt blessings of all his companions, the "Watchman"—this solitary gravedigger, selfless devotee, and ultimate vessel of the anti-meme—completely dissipated, merging into that vast and mysterious miniature galaxy, and stepping into eternal tranquility.

The Paradox-New Dresden still sails through the Networld, but on the bridge, there seems to be a place that will forever remain empty, leaving behind a legend that can never be remembered, yet profoundly changed the fate of the ship and everyone on board.