"System?"
"Get your ass out here!"
In a corner of the platform, Anming tried reactivating the simulation system. The digital clock floating before him blinked:
[Life Simulator Cooling Down - Next Activation: 97h 31m 45s]
Time dilated around him. He could see individual strands of March 7th's hair swaying in slow motion. Bullet time? If controllable, this could be a game-changer in combat.
"You know," Anming dragged over a crate to sit, "real systems have stat panels. You're failing System 101."
The system stuttered before projecting a barebones interface - just the countdown timer.
"Four days," Anming muttered. Next simulation would be different. No Aha, no tragedies. Just fluffy slice-of-life. Definitely.
"Goodbye Director~ Tonight I sail the starry seas~"
His cheerful humming died as a nightmare scenario surfaced: Firefly staring at him with frostbitten eyes, lips forming "Who are you?" The thought coiled like nausea in his gut.
"Quit daydreaming!" March yanked his arm. "All aboard!"
As he stepped toward the Express, starlight caught silver hair in his peripheral vision.
...
"Fucking Herta!" Silver Wolf's fingers blurred across holographic keys. "They've locked down the entire sector!"
Firefly pressed the transformation device to her chest, watching star clusters swirl outside the shuttle viewport. Are you seeing this too?
"Can't teleport you physically." Silver Wolf slammed the final key. "Sending projection only. Make it count."
Firefly's breath hitched as her consciousness dissolved into data streams.
...
Anming turned.
There she stood - translucent, shimmering like a soap bubble. Her outstretched hand hovered inches from his face before curling into a trembling fist.
Centuries collapsed. The rusted pocket watch in Firefly's soul began ticking again.
"I..." Her holographic throat produced no sound.
Anming spun abruptly, eyes locking onto empty air. Then lower - meeting the gaze of a kneeling projection only he could see.
Time fractured.
Firefly's spectral form flickered. A thousand fears choked her: Will he remember? Does he still...
Golden irises answered everything.
She stepped through the ghostly starlight, phantom fingers brushing his jawline. Lips formed silent words:
"Missed you."
Anming reached instinctively, hands passing through azure static.
"Not... dream..." Firefly's voice crackled through the interference, tears glitching into pixelated stardust. "So hard... living..."
Her projection surged forward in a cascade of errors. Cold light hands cupped his face.
The kiss tasted of corrupted data and seventeen lifetimes of longing.
When the transmission failed, Firefly's last tear fell through Anming's palm, evaporating before hitting the floor.