The Commander was never gentle.

A common​‌‍‌​‌​‌​⁠‌‌‌‍⁠‍​‍‌​⁠‌‌⁠ snowflake, or a small piece of bread.

“What are you thinking about?”

Qin Zhilu finally turned back to look at An Yu. Those familiar eyes had changed; the pitch-black irises were dilated, its pupils heavy and congealed, with a dark gloom stirring within them like an abyss hiding the power to devour all things.

An Yu only noticed for a fleeting moment before lowering his head, asking in a soft voice, “Commander, do I count as your small piece of bread?”

Qin Zhilu seemed somewhat bewildered but did not delve deeper. The veins at his temples bulged, and the vessels beneath his skin throbbed violently with his heartbeat; maintaining this faint human will had already occupied his entire mind.

“Of course you are.” He answered, his gaze fixed solely on An Yu. “I told you long ago, from beginning to end, you are only ever a small piece of bread. This vast, chaotic world originally has nothing to do with you; you are simply… someone I happened to possess.

The massive gloom flowing in his dark eyes seemed to pause for an instant. He frowned slightly, sizing An Yu up. “Your voice has changed. I probably won’t hold out much longer; my senses are failing. Listening to you speak, it sounds like a different person. There’s a sense of deja vu.”

“I have a cold,” An Yu said hurriedly. “It’s not your problem.”

“Is that so.”

Qin Zhilu gestured for him to come closer, placing his palm over An Yu’s burning forehead. After a long while, he sighed and rubbed An Yu’s head heavily. “Sick from exhaustion. Don’t cooperate with Black Tower for long in the future; they will use you until you’re broken.”

His gaze swept down to the familiar sidearm tucked into An Yu’s waist, and he gave a faint curl of his lips. “The High Peak… he likely has even less humanity than you. He won’t consider whether you are tired or not. Stay far away from him and the rest of them.”

An Yu gave a small sound of affirmation, pulled the manuscript from his inner trench coat pocket, and flipped to the title page, where an eye was embedded in the book.

He told Qin Zhilu the key points regarding Codex. After listening, Qin Zhilu simply nodded. “So, that sunset in the church, the first time the four of us gathered in our lives—it truly did trigger something in the unseen.”

An Yu was stunned. “You felt it that day too?”

“Mhm. There was a voice in my consciousness; it suddenly became noisy when I stepped into the church that day.”

An Yu knew he was talking about the Chaos Body buried within him. That voice had likely been there for all these years, but Qin Zhilu had never mentioned it. In this long, drawn-out, aimless struggle, he had never cried out for help to anyone.

Even now, his tone was as nonchalant as if they were discussing the chewiness of bread.

“So we will all converge toward you, accepting your gaze and judgment until His scattered parts are accepted by you, and we move toward extinction.”

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An Yu was momentarily startled by the unfamiliar word coming from Qin Zhilu’s mouth.

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“The name of this gun is Guardian.” Qin Zhilu’s other hand stroked along the barrel as if stroking the passing years. “I used it to kill many people, aberrant, civilians, soldiers, Protectors. Every single bullet was for guardianship.”

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Qin Zhilu held An Yu’s hand, pressing the gun against his own throat.

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Cold, hard black clothes and leather gloves, one hand holding a gun.

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“Kill me,” he said. “The fragments of the Chaos Body are still madly surging toward me. I am not sure if I can really hold out to the end with my will as Codex said. Right now, killing me is the safest strategy.”

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The sudden sharp pain at his throat caused his voice to go hoarse instantly. An Yu’s muzzle pressed heavily against his throat; his head hit the wall, creating a stinging burn.

“Can you please be a little nicer to me?”

An Yu’s eyes were scarlet, his voice carrying a trembling, sob-like quality. “Don’t force me… Back then on the snowfield, you were forcing me just like this with a gun.”

It took a long time for a few broken sounds to emerge from Qin Zhilu’s burning throat.

A coaxing tone.

“But now it’s reversed.”

The muzzle immediately pressed deeper, not letting him say another word.

“But even with it reversed, it’s still you who are forcing me.” An Yu’s brow trembled, and tears finally fell. “On the Winter Solstice, I did say that even if you have a poor character and are unreasonable, I still fell in love with you. But you can’t always take advantage of the fact that I love you. You must change your nature; you can’t always love to bully me like—”

Before he could finish, a thick, powerful force suddenly coiled around his waist. Before An Yu could react, the gun in his hand had hit the floor. Several black, smooth tentacles bound his wrists and waist. He was tackled to the ground, and then those tentacles vanished instantly. Qin Zhilu suppressed him with his body and kissed him forcefully.

The Commander was never gentle.

An Yu thought this while feeling the pain of being bitten; from the first time they met, this person had been cold, hard, and brutal—not allowing him to be disobedient, not allowing him to act coy, and not even allowing him to finish his complaints.

He didn’t feel sorry for him at all.

But as he thought this, the heavy breathing above his head suddenly paused for a moment. Qin Zhilu released his bitten, bleeding lips and placed a gentle kiss on the corner of his eye.

He licked the tears that fell, moving from the corner of the eye to the cheek, meticulously catching them with his lips, murmuring hoarsely, “Don’t just cry.”

“I’m not even allowed to cry.” An Yu’s voice trembled even more. Those golden eyes that terrified all Protectors were now encased in a pool of water, staring at Qin Zhilu. “Even Grape knows I’m having a hard time, but you…”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry… It’s my fault, I’m no good.”

Qin Zhilu’s heart was thrown into disarray by the crying. His gaze swept over his now undetectable mental power on the wall. In a mess of thoughts, he wanted to kiss him but didn’t know where else to kiss to make him stop the accusations. Finally, he instinctively tilted An Yu’s head and licked that tiny old scar behind his ear.

An Yu’s heaving chest finally began to calm down.

Qin Zhilu was comforting him when he suddenly sensed An Yu’s body stiffen. He turned his head, following An Yu’s gaze to the projection on the wall.