Arknights story · First of A Thousand Autumns
TA-2 The Great Ghost
Sui traps Wang in the cage of memory. Strange things have been happening around the Sui proxies after the appearance of Yu, all pointing to the awakening of Sui. Jie demonstrates the power of the writing knife to Wang, as she seeks a way to eliminate Sui.
2 scenes, 460 lines
1. Before Operation
214 linesHere you are.
The same game of weiqi... one that you have lost countless times over the centuries.
You are trying to fight the whole with its parts... all well-laid plans no more than child's play in my eyes.
Drowning yourself in children's toys. A bad old habit of yours.
This challenge is simply a repetition of the thousands of defeats of the past.
...Hah.
You try to mask your fear with arrogance.
Why bother?
Anger, fear, hope... I see clearly in you the things you try to see in me.
Join the game, if you're not afraid.
This time...
You WILL lose.
I am defeated.
I did not expect this variation of the offset play.
You had a chance, if you did not continue to cede ground in the center around the hundredth move, hoping for a draw.
I did not have a clear view of the developments to come, so I picked the safe move. I see I was mistaken.
Haha. I thought my weiqi skills had improved, but it looks like I'm still far beneath you.
In this last battle, we were only able to avoid heavy casualties thanks to your strategy of conserving our strength and luring the enemy deep in.
This return to the capital is an opportunity for you to rest. But I expect it will be a long time until our next meeting.
You don't seem concerned with victory or defeat.
Why obsess over such things in a meeting between brothers?
Not just weiqi. It seems that nothing ever concerns you; you are always content to act the part of the kind benefactor.
I don't know why you'd say that...
The new Right Assistant Minister of the Ministry of War, together with officials from the Ministry of Rites, accused you in a petition to the throne two months ago.
Commanding troops to act without authorization. A serious crime.
...
How do you know the imperial court's business, when you've been with me on the front lines for the past six months?
I have my ways. You should worry about yourself.
If he meant our late return to camp, it was because we had to stop and wait for a Catastrophe to pass.
General Yang knew. The Ministry of War hardly has a case.
Oh, you don't need to worry about that.
The Assistant Minister was found to have accepted bribes and embezzled supplies... he is in prison now, awaiting trial.
He won't spread rumors any longer for now. As for whether he makes it out of prison alive... only Heaven knows.
...
You promised to stop meddling in the affairs of the court.
I would hardly call it meddling. Simply helping Yan rid itself of a corrupt official.
You know your own intentions...
You see the entire court as a game of weiqi, with human lives for stones?
Has your lust for honesty and righteousness blinded you to the evil and malice lurking in the hearts of people?
No sooner had that man taken office than he started to target you. Do you really think there is no one behind the curtain? Do you really believe we have only one enemy?
Go easy on this one, and we set ourselves up for more trouble to come.
...
Strange things have been happening since the birth of our youngest brother.
Fāng's patient committed suicide after getting better.
Someone has been producing 'satirical' works of falsehood in Dusk's name, imitating her touch.
Thieves have stolen treasures from Yi's garden. A long and thorough investigation by the Judicial Review Office turned up nothing more than a gang of fools.
And then, your matter.
...
We all know... It is not dead.
The people here have never forgotten Its terror. That is why they watch our every move, every meeting.
Do you still think your little achievements will force them to see us as anything more than alien entities, enemies to be feared?
Are Fāng and Dusk alright?
Fāng was depressed for a while. Dusk has always been how she is. But I don't suppose either would worry too much about it.
But what about the future?
You think someone is pulling the strings behind the scenes?
The Shanhaizhong, or someone else with ulterior motives?
That's what I truly fear.
If a single mastermind is behind all of this...
I cannot determine who it might be, nor do I have any inkling of their intentions.
I will confirm all that you've said with the Sui Regulator.
...I know you have good intentions.
But don't overstep the boundaries like this again.
Since when have we been worried for one another?
I simply didn't want to fall into a trap without knowing who dug it.
It's time to go.
The journey is far. Be careful on your way.
Bring the others my greetings.
...I may not see them.
*sigh*.
The proxy bids his sibling farewell and proceeds in the direction of the capital.
The journey is far, and he is in a hurry. He does not have time to stop for small noises along the way.
One wrong move...
And all is lost...
Let's begin with the name 'Yu', shall we?
Sure. Let me think...
'Yu Yin Rao Liang.' The sound lingers upon the beams.
Don't tell me you're giving up already.
O-Of course not. Just busy with the beastmeat. Give me some time.
Sure... I have many books to copy. Take your time.
Liang... I feel like I should ask Yi, but he's not here...
'Heng Liang'—crossbeam. 'Fang Liang'—roof beam. 'Dong Liang'—pillar. I know! 'Dong Liang Zhi Cai,' pillar of society!
Wait, it has to start with Liang...
(Say, she has so many bamboo slips with words on them sitting next to her. Maybe if I took a peek...)
What is it?
It's called 'paper'. A new invention.
It's lighter and easier to write on than bamboo. It also doesn't deteriorate easily, which makes it easy to preserve.
You can preserve something forever, if you write it on paper?
Yes and no.
Bamboo slips may last for decades, paper for centuries.
Be it bamboo or paper, however, there ultimately comes a day when it perishes.
No matter what we use to record something, it will only endure forever if people truly commit it to memory.
Just like how people remember your cooking when they taste it.
Hm...
He listens, but it is unclear if he understands. He scratches his head beside the stockbeast that he has just butchered, but he cannot come up with an idiom that starts with 'Liang'.
Suddenly, a small piece of bamboo falls in front of him, and he sees the words on it.
'Liang Shang Jun Zi'—man on the roof beam!
Not bad. 'Zi', eh? Let me think... 'Zi Xu—'
Let's stop here. This word chain game is so hard. Why don't you play it with Ling and Dusk the next time they're here, and I'll watch from the sidelines.
Are you hungry? Do you want me to cook the meat?
Sure.
Can I have the bamboo slips, if you don't need them anymore?
For the fire? I suppose...
The young proxy takes the bamboo slips from his sister and skillfully cuts them down the middle...
Into long, sharp sticks.
What are you making?
Meat skewers!
This stockbeast tenderloin is just the right mix of lean and fat, and the fat on its belly is nice and firm. It'll taste great roasted.
The fuel has to be charcoal. These bamboo slips don't burn for long.
I already have the charcoal. We can start roasting when I'm done cutting the slips and skewering the meat.
Hah... does grilling meat on bamboo slips make this a scholar's meal?
Let's call it 'scholar's barbecue'!
Well, I trust your cooking. I'm excited to try it.
Well, I'm done with the slips. You can take them.
You're both here.
Oh... back already?
I got your letter. I thought you wouldn't be here for a few more days, at least.
Smooth trip?
Yes.
You two...
There's the idiom 'burning a guqin to cook a fowlbeast,' which means sacrilegious, wasteful behavior.
What are you doing with these bamboo slips?
The boy hides behind his sister, peeking his head out from her side.
Just giving some broken bamboo slips to Yu to make the most of them. Why so harsh?
You should be more grateful to Yu for making dinner.
It's not like I actually said anything...
Don't fight, don't fight!
I'll go make dinner! It's not every day my second-oldest brother comes back. We finally get to eat together!
You, just, er, sit down and chat!
*sigh*...
He's always been a little afraid of you. Can't you be more gentle?
...
Are things not going well?
No.
I see...
But we don't get together very often, and Yu misses you.
Anything you want to say can wait until after dinner.
So, unsettling things have been happening without my knowledge.
You don't look worried at all.
I'm worried... and I'm just surprised that you show so much concern for your siblings, brother.
Siblings in the sense that we were born from the same fragmented consciousness. Not true blood relations.
We each have our own interests and ambitions. Our fates are none of each other's concern... we walk different paths.
Do you truly think so?
...
My views are different.
See, it's been centuries since we came to the mortal world. Even if we are not truly part of it, most of the scenes and people that we see are lovely.
But the people we meet seem to become smoke in the wind in the blink of an eye.
In the end, it is only 'us' who remain, and it's only in each other that we can truly speak our hearts.
We may have differences and we may have conflicts, but we could never cut each other off completely... isn't that very much like human siblings?
I have no intention of arguing, if this is how you think.
*sigh*... I don't know why you always seem so aloof. We don't see each other very often. Are you not happy at all?
I wonder if you'd regret it, if one of us suddenly disappeared forever.
...
Speaking of which, I encountered something strange recently.
One night, I was about to go to bed when I heard a sound from the study.
From the garden, I saw through the window the silhouette of someone bending over the desk, writing something.
I hurried into the study to find no one, only the Jijiuzhang that I had been transcribing the past few days lying on the desk, with scribblings all over it...
Jie takes a scroll from the desk.
One word is written over every neatly written character on the page.
Sui
—!
Who do you think could have done it?
There is only one possibility.
It is awakening, and It is attempting to interfere with us in some way.
We thought Its consciousness had completely faded after Yu's birth.
But It is alive... still sleeping, but the stuff of our nightmares.
If It does wake, we will become Its fleeting dream...
What do you have in mind?
I don't know yet. But I'll think of a way...
I have an idea, if you'd care to listen.
I only recently thought about it... when I compiled the histories with the people of Yan, there were inevitably some mistakes, no matter how careful we were.
Unlike ordinary writing, it takes great effort to correct mistakes written in the histories.
Jie picks up a writing knife from the desk, used to scrape bamboo slips, then picks up a scroll, and gently scrapes the paper.
The ink that has seeped into the paper, even smearing the next page slightly, disappears without a trace when the writing knife touches it. The paper is blank, as though nothing has ever been written on it.
This knife...
I think my influence has changed it.
I have a faint feeling that the words it scrapes away—a history, or at least... a name—don't just disappear from the paper; they disappear from people's hearts and minds.
Perhaps there will come a day when we use it to scrape the word 'Sui' from all the texts of this world.
You can... do that?
Not yet. Right now, it's only a writing knife, albeit an unusual one.
But I can feel it. The more words written, the heavier my knife and pen become.
Perhaps we're all the same. We discovered the answer to who we are in that primordial void, then we understood the meaning of our existence in the mortal realm. This is what proves we are different from It.
Perhaps there will come a day when our strength exceeds Its. Then, we can truly break free of Its influence, and live as 'ourselves'.
As long as we don't forget who we are, of course.
...
What are you thinking on, brother?
Don't worry about it.
*sigh*... Sometimes I feel like you and I are the least compatible, amongst our siblings.
Plots and plans are things to be kept inside one's heart, but words and language are for expressing what lies in one's heart.
But sometimes I feel like you hide nothing from me, that I can see all that you think.
I...
Interesting, isn't it? We both found what we wanted to devote ourselves to, only to have it reshape our personalities in return.
Shu always says I'm obsessed with the past. And I remember the deathly white that she talked about, which lies at the end of the future.
She was right. One cannot pretend to be carefree, when there are things that one cannot let go of.
I know you're worried about the unknowable future... victory and defeat are what you're most obsessed about, but it would be such a miserable existence, if there was nothing but victory and defeat.
Besides that, what is it you care about the most?
I do not obsess about victory and defeat. I simply...
I simply do not like to accept that a game could not be won.
Hm...
By the way, are you reporting to the Sui Regulator tomorrow? Could you take these copied books with you? They'll need to review them before they can be archived in the Sky Mirror Pavilion.
Very well.
And take another look at the re-copied Jijiuzhang for me. Bring the writing knife too, so you can correct any mistakes.
Anything you've written hardly needs me to check it.
Consider it an activity to pass the time.
You spend so much time devising military strategies, thinking of victory and defeat. A distraction would do you good.
And perhaps, you might find what you're looking for in the text.
2. After Operation
246 linesBetter to sacrifice a few stones... than to lose the initiative...
One wrong move... and all is lost!
And all is lost...
Lost...
Wang looks back. The mixture of weeping and lament moves away gradually, but it does not stop for even an instant.
Wang follows the eerie voice to a decrepit weiqi stall.
A man, presumably the owner of the stall, sits on the ground weeping. There is no one around.
One wrong move... and all is lost...
And all is lost!
Before Wang has a chance to take in the situation on the weiqi board, the man falls upon it and begins to wail, sending stones flying.
Ridiculous.
As Wang turns around to leave, the man's crying begins to abate.
Don't go, sir, please, I'll set up the board again...
This game cost me my life savings, my home, my farm, even my family scattered and some of them died because of it... I am very sick and don't have long to live.
A game. A game of weiqi, that cost me my home, my family, my life...
I couldn't let it go. Take a look for me. If you can find a solution...
...Perhaps fate can still be changed!
The man goes from sobbing to howling. As Wang stands motionless, the man picks up the stones from the ground, and quickly sets up the board.
Setup, probe, entrap, sacrifice, fight, exchange...
The man's hands move at a breathtaking pace. The game begins to grow as though it is alive, the war raging from the corners to the center, then to the other side which still lies empty, so fast the eyes can hardly keep up.
Before Wang can react, the man has put a black stone in his hand.
Your turn, sir.
...How?
Yes. How, indeed?
Black and white should have taken turns placing stones. But no black stone can be seen on the board, once you hold one. How should the game proceed?
This is ridiculous... I'll take my leave.
You ought to understand, sir.
This board is like an abyss. Every white stone is the size of a mountain, while the black ones that I have presumptuously placed upon it... are no more than game pieces.
We are so far from the board that even the mountains are no greater than the size of a thumb. How could we possibly see a tiny weiqi stone?
I held on as long as I could, but at this point I was dazed and exhausted. One wrong move...
The man begins to weep bitterly again—
...And all is lost!
Look! I gave each stone a name, but I couldn't save any of them! There is no way out for any of them!
This one is Shuo. This one is Wang. This one is Ling. This one is Jun—
Wang draws his blade and stabs at one of the white stones, only for it to make a sharp cracking sound as it bends, as though he were stabbing a boulder.
Pointless, like striking a rock with an egg...
Why did I play this game? I shouldn't have. Why...?
The sword turns and pierces the man's throat. He slumps to the ground, but no blood flows from the wound. The weeping grows even louder, though it is no longer intelligible.
The man's eyes glow with a strange expression. Is it fear or joy? He stares straight at Wang's face.
Wang instinctively reaches for the writing knife on his belt, but stops mid-way.
Finally, he ponders for a moment and puts the black stone in his hand on the board.
No sooner have the words left Wang's mouth than the body on the ground turns into smoke, and the invisible black stones on the board reveal themselves.
Mr. Wang!
You...
I watched you stand in front of the door to the Sui Regulator before turning around again. I came to find you as I thought you might have met with a strange happening too.
Strange happening? You already know?
Yes.
...I suppose I shouldn't be surprised.
There was a madman here crying about some omen of misfortune. He didn't make any sense.
Where is he?
Vanished. His weiqi game remains.
Understood. I'll have someone copy it down.
One more thing. The Supervisor says Jie should be about done with the book copying, and that you probably brought the copies. Have you...?
Here.
One moment please while I count them.
Three poetry anthologies for a total of thirty-two scrolls...
Five volumes on philology for a total of sixty scrolls...
One volume on divination for a total of five scrolls...
This is... the Jijiuzhang? Looks like it got mixed in with the divination books.
Jie is such a genius. She wrote this in a single night, all one thousand and four hundred words of it, without a single character repeated.
Her calligraphy is still so beautiful. There is truly no equal.
The Candleholder heaps praise upon the scroll. Wang follows his gaze—
And sees an empty piece of paper.
I remember this... five hundred years ago, in the capital.
The first time she proposed an actionable hypothesis for destroying Sui.
She gave me the writing knife, but I don't remember what the article was about, what she wanted to tell me...
Hah. By 'repeat', did you mean making me repeat the events of the past in dream?
Only to make you see for yourself how many fantasies have appeared in your dreams over the past thousand years, dreams about destroying me, dreams that were doomed to fail.
I should turn these memories into a cage, and drown you in the shame of countless failures.
See, now... all the memories that you have forgotten.
You forgot?
Sorry.
It's nothing. I'm just thinking too much, if the Sui Regulator didn't say anything...
I would like to have my writing knife back.
*sigh*... I don't know why you always seem so aloof. We don't see each other very often. Are you not happy at all?
I wonder if you'd regret it, if one of us suddenly disappeared forever.
I'd rather not be called 'the Fifth Sui' my entire life. As if Its mark were still on me.
The ones who create characters helped me think of one to use as a name. Could you read this for me, brother?
I shall write it and recite it for you.
The characters '■' and '■', '■' and '■', come together to form '■'.
Mr. Wang?
Is something the matter?
I remembered something.
My sister said she did the Jijiuzhang in a hurry and asked me to check it for errors. I forgot.
Give me some time.
Not a problem.
I'll leave this one for now, then. It's getting late. You can bring it back tomorrow.
The sky has completely darkened by the time the proxy arrives at the inn.
'Ji Jiu Qi Gu Yu Zhong Yi, Luo Lie Zhu Wu Ming Xing Zi.' The Jijiuzhang is distinctive, unlike other books: it lists the names of many things and persons.
...I should have remembered.
A breeze turns the pages. Wang seems to see a piece of paper in a different color on the back cover.
She was then trying to tell me something...
Wang picks up the thin booklet from the table and opens it.
'Ji Jiu Qi Gu Yu Zhong Yi, Luo Lie Zhu Wu Ming Xing Zi.' The Jijiuzhang is distinctive, unlike other books: it lists the names of many things and persons. 'Fen Bie Bu Ju Bu Za Ce, Yong Ri Yue Shao Cheng Kuai Yi, Mian Li Wu Zhi Bi You Xi.' They are classified into different sections by kind, so that nothing is confused or mixed together. With but little time expended, it suffices for daily use—truly to one's satisfaction. If one studies it with diligence, one is sure to taste the delight of success.
These should have been the words written on the first page. These were the words, when Wang scanned the page for the first time.
But now, the paper is covered in strange ink markings.
Sui Sui Sui Sui Sui Sui Sui, Sui Sui Sui Sui Sui Sui Sui Sui Sui Sui Sui Sui Sui Sui, Sui Sui Sui Sui Sui Sui Sui, Sui Sui Sui Sui Sui Sui Sui
Wang instinctively raises the writing knife and aims it at the first fierce-looking 'Sui' on the page.
One wrong move...
And all is lost...
The wind howls outside the window, but there is no one there.
Still trying to be our nightmare?
The same old tricks from centuries ago. Have you not grown tired of it yet?
When at a disadvantage, seek a draw...
There is no such thing as a draw between us.
When in danger, make sacrifices...
In your dreams.
Sui
The writing knife strikes the first 'Sui'.
Wang has used his sister's writing knife before. A slight cut, and the incorrect word is completely erased, leaving the page intact.
But he feels a great resistance, as though he is trying to scrape a boulder, a mountain even.
He tightens his not-too-strong arms and pushes down—
Ji
A crack of thunder outside the window.
The first 'Sui' finally disappears. The paper is blank for a moment, then the word that Jie wrote is revealed, the lines intentionally plain yet vigorous to make for easier recognition by learners.
The lone 'Ji' stands eerie amongst a page full of 'Sui'.
Do not give in to haste...
Hmph.
Sui
Wang takes aim at the second 'Sui' and scrapes it. The resistance seems even stronger than the first time.
Jiu
'Jiu.'
The night wind invades the room, trying to turn the pages, but Wang keeps the paper firmly under his palm.
Sui
Qi
'Qi.'
Sui
Gu
'Gu'—
The room starts to shake violently as the fourth word reveals itself.
Sui
Yu
'Yu'...
The thunder outside rumbles endlessly, accompanied by constant lightning.
Sui
Zhong
'Zhong'...
A bolt of lightning strikes the inn, setting it ablaze.
Sui
Yi
'Yi'...!
The room burns fiercely, but Wang remains at the desk, utterly focused on cutting the page.
Each 'Sui' requires greater exertion than the last. Each time a 'Sui' is erased, a different hellish vision appears around him.
The sky sunders, the earth trembles, winds shriek and thunder roars, and fires burn red and bright.
The beams, the bed, the desk, the shelves... until there is nothing in the room left to burn, and even the ground has been burned through.
Wang can feel himself drop straight down like a stone, but his hands do not stop.
Scorching heat.
Freezing cold.
Suffocation.
Isolation...
One hundred, three hundred, five hundred, one thousand...
One thousand three hundred and ninety-three...
One thousand three hundred and ninety-four...
The last 'Sui' is erased, and he finds himself in the dark room again.
Nothing in the room has changed, except for Wang sitting in the middle of the room, his face gaunt and yellow, his clothes tattered, as though he physically journeyed through all these hellish visions.
...
Silence.
Wang turns the page. There is indeed a paper between the last page and the back cover. It is not words that are written on it, but a nineteen-by-nineteen weiqi board drawn with writing ink.
It's one thing to make me play weiqi with you because you're bored, dear brother, it's another to use the stones to form the character for 'bored.'
As if that would help me against you.
Why don't you find something else to pass the time, if it's not really a weiqi game that you're after? Go hiking, learn an instrument... I could teach you calligraphy, if it comes down to that.
Oh? What thoughts did you read this time?
There are words on the other side...
Through the paper, Wang can see that the writing is different from the simple, straightforward lines that she used when copying for learners; it is the unique style of calligraphy that she uses when writing to her siblings.
He flips the paper over, trying to see what the message he never managed to see was—
But every word is covered by the 'Sui' character, even thicker and fiercer than the ones that he has just erased.
Same old tricks? Fine. Let's see what tricks you've got, other than illusions and parlor tricks—
Once again, Wang stabs the 'Sui' covering the page with the writing knife, wiping away a little smear on the top-right of the word...
No unusual phenomenon occurs, except the red blood that begins to flow from his right shoulder.
One stab, and the wound on his shoulder opens up.
Another stab, and the wound deepens to reach the bone.
Another stab.
And another...
Missing words? Let's see... what's the word... I can't remember...
In October, I'll be nine... nine...
Supervisor! Urgent report from the Sky Mirror Pavilion. All records pertaining to the Feranmut are—
Ugh... argh!
Perhaps the blood has gotten into his eyes, for it seems like the 'Sui' character covering the page has begun to move, as though it is alive.
The ink seems to fear the writing knife, shifting back and forth among the names of the twelve proxies...
Wang
It stops on the 'Wang' character.
Wang pauses and presses his bloody right side with his left hand, then resolutely points the writing knife back at the word that covers everything.
The ink is so black it seems to shine, reflecting half of Wang's silhouette.
...The last cut.
The writing knife glows bright. The proxy pours his entire spirit into it, waiting for it to strike his own name...
Haah—!
The ink on the page dissipates completely, revealing the beautiful calligraphy beneath.
But the proxy can see it no more.
He falls to the ground, covered in blood, so thin and gaunt he hardly seems human.
He has stopped breathing.
I wanted to kill myself. I have gotten my wish.
After more than a century of plotting since your last failed attempt, this is how it ends, I the strategist, I the schemer?
You're delusional.
The proxy stands beside his bloody corpse on the floor, perfectly unharmed as he was when he entered the Tomb of Sui.
The body on the ground dissipates like the morning dew, until only three shining black stones are left—
Until they, too, disintegrate.
Turning yourself into weiqi stones. This was your idea.
Three black stones in exchange for killing you once. A fair trade.
Pathetic. You are fooling yourself.
Fooling myself?
I've visited many of your kind. I know how incomprehensible you are... how incomprehensible we are.
I know about the faint consciousnesses that were born from the primordial void, and I know how they have transformed themselves into colossal entities in the course of an infinity.
Time, space, quantity, structure... the things that mortals take for granted, the things that seem to be everlasting, unchangeable, are merely a temporary roost for you.
I have seen one of your kind continue to disrupt what should have been the calm flow of time, even though it had died long ago and been turned into a machine at the hands of others.
And you still dream of killing me?
Perhaps you have no need to die. But you will fall into eternal slumber, Sui, the dreamer of evolution.
Mankind has no use for your arrogant design, and I have no use for your endless dream.
Every death in your memory is real, a genuine death of a small part of your enormous consciousness.
Don't believe me? Think back to the day I encountered that 'madman', back when your methods were so primitive they were downright laughable. What did I do?
Did I give the book back to the Sui Regulator? Did I destroy it? What was written in it? Was it really a book?
See? You've forgotten.
You dare...!
Your memory has died, the price you paid in exchange for three black stones.
To be precise, you died by the writing knife imbued with a proxy's entire life force.
He scraped clean every instance of the 'Sui' character across all Great Yan, and with it any trace that a creature called 'Sui' ever existed.
The recklessness... the blasphemy!
I would do it again, had I the writing knife in my hand right now.
I would be happy to create for you a nightmare, from which you would never wake. Even at the cost of my own life.
...You cannot.
The more parts of me you kill, the more you think you have weakened me, and the sooner I will wake.
I know.
Death hurts. Each and every one of your memories is real. They are happening somewhere. The pain of your death cuts straight to the heart.
What about you? What can you do?