"I'm curious—what are your plans once everything ends?"
"After all... your existence is truly unique. Humans know little about you, and even within New Eridu alone, things are rather complicated."
Tyce didn't dwell on his own worries. Instead, his thoughts turned to what might happen to Zane afterward.
As Zane himself had once said—it was because of Shin that such words could be spoken now.
"What else could I plan? Just enjoying the sunshine and moonlight would be fine. I'm different from you—I never had grand visions to begin with. It's just that, for certain reasons, some things had to be done."
Zane paused, then continued with a relaxed expression.
"Just tending to that little cat café, soaking up the sun, and visiting neighbors—that would be perfectly good."
"But you know well that your very existence is anything but ordinary. The journey won't stop. Perhaps a hundred years from now, you'll embark on an even grander voyage than this one."
Tyce offered no clear response, merely stating,
"Probably... there won't be a hundred years from now."
"I know. Whatever the outcome this time, it won't be a permanent solution."
"What remains must be overcome by them themselves."
Zane raised a hand, and a wisp of breeze drifted through his fingers, carrying strands of jet-black hair.
"I am but a speck of dust carried by the wind. One day, I shall return to my final resting place alongside the wind that belongs to me."
For Zane, this extraordinary life—though brief thus far—had been anything but shallow precisely because of its uniqueness. He had long since formed his own convictions and decisions.
"You seem to lack reverence and appreciation for life."
Tyce was somewhat taken aback by Zane's words, his expression growing slightly complex.
"Life... it is precisely because I revere life."
Faces flickered through Zane's mind, stirring his heart.
"Time flows on, civilizations endure, generations follow one after another, passing the torch from hand to hand."
"Nothing in this world is absolutely eternal, nor will it ever be."
"Everything will fade away."
"And precisely because of this, all things cycle and renew, endlessly."
After the words fell, Zane smiled softly once more.
"But as I said, this is only a rough outline. After all, who can truly predict the future?"
...
In the vast hollow where sky and water merged, Tyce tilted his head slightly, gazing upward.
The cycle of all things, the unending flow of life...
Suddenly, a faint smile touched Tyce's lips. Indeed, his departure was both an ending and a beginning.
After a long silence, Tyce's voice finally resounded once more.
"We've talked at length, and I've truly benefited greatly. To be honest, this is our first genuine conversation."
"Looking back now, the Professor was indeed preparing for the future. He made the right decision."
After this reflection, Tyce turned his gaze back to Zane, his expression serious.
"Zane, the time is nearly upon us."
Hearing this, Zane's expression shifted slightly. He looked at Tyce, his eyes holding an indescribable meaning.
"Actually, you're mistaken on one point."
Zane spoke suddenly, his voice reaching Tyce's ear.
"My existence is indeed unique—that's an objective fact, whether in terms of my fundamental nature or the power I wield..."
"To a certain extent, I am the same kind of being as your so-called Creator."
"But I am human. That too is an established fact."
"No matter how circumstances change, that truth will never alter."
From the very beginning, he had only ever held—and would always hold—one stance.
Tyce met Zane's brilliant gaze and saw something. Contempt.
Tyce knew well that Zane's contempt wasn't directed at him.
Tyce froze.
"Hahahaha..."
Suddenly, he burst into laughter. This man, who had weathered countless storms, laughed louder and louder. His laughter echoed through the hollow.
Indeed, Zane had been born from the Professor's work. In essence, he had always been part of humanity. This plan had been initiated by them; Zane had merely joined and contributed upon learning of it.
From the very beginning, this was not a story of desperate humans receiving divine pity, nor a drama of gods saving the world, nor a helpless act of humanity with no other choice.
This was not a struggle against despair.
It was a war humanity had chosen to wage—a war ignited by the convergence of individual efforts in the face of crisis.
They never sought preservation or a mere prolongation of existence.
They demanded victory—victory that belonged to humanity!