Departure and Absence (Part 3)

The fog rolled through the alleyway like a grayish-blue serpent, coiling around Lin Se's footsteps. She walked quickly, her boots stepping on the wet ground, water splashing up with tiny pattering sounds like echoes of heartbeats. Ceylon followed behind her, the click of its metal joints steady and rhythmic, like a tireless clock. At the end of the alley, the edge of the city appeared vaguely, abandoned districts fading in and out of the fog, with streetlights askew, glass covers shattered, like a row of silent sentinels.

04:17:09, Lin Se stopped, her hand pressing against a wall covered in moss, her fingertips digging into the cold, damp crevices, as if grasping for the last bit of strength. Her breath condensed into white mist in the fog, dispersing and vanishing like brief sighs. She turned to look at Ceylon, its screen flickering with blue light, reflecting on her face, tracing the blue shadows under her eyes. She said softly: "We're almost there." Her voice was hoarse, as if worn by the fog.

Just then, the dull sound of boots on ground came through the fog, deep and chaotic, as if someone was approaching. Lin Se jerked her head up, her hand sliding from the wall, her nails leaving a shallow mark. Ceylon's head turned slightly, its screen flashing a line of text: "Moving object detected, distance 12.4 meters." She narrowed her eyes, staring into the depths of the fog, where a tall figure gradually became clear—leather jacket, unshaven, with a trace of tobacco scent on his shoulders. It was Nolan.

He stopped a few steps away, hands in his pockets, wrinkles deep like a map carved into his face. He exhaled a breath of smoke that dispersed in the fog like a thin veil, blurring his gaze. He looked at Lin Se, his eyes shifting between her and Ceylon, finally settling on her clenched fist. "So you came after all," his voice was deep, like crushed stones squeezed from his throat, "I knew you couldn't let it go."

Lin Se frowned, her lips pressed into a line. She didn't speak, just stared at him, as if waiting for him to continue. Nolan coughed, as if something was stuck in his throat, and pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his jacket pocket, unfolding it with a rustling sound. He handed it over, saying softly: "This is his letter. You should read it."

Lin Se took the letter, feeling a slight chill when her fingertips touched the paper, like dew condensed from the fog. She unfolded it, her eyes falling on the slanted handwriting: "Nolan, if I'm gone, don't tell Lin Se the truth. She's better off just keeping Ceylon. That thing has my shadow in it; don't let her destroy it. —Simon". The words were like needles, piercing her eyes, and her hand trembled slightly, making the paper quiver as if struggling in the wind.

"You knew all along?" Her voice was cold as ice, with a hint of trembling, "You knew what he left behind, yet you didn't tell me?"

Nolan rubbed his nose bridge, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening. He said softly: "I don't know everything. I only know he went crazy, crazy over that robot. He said Ceylon wasn't just a machine, it was his feelings, it was his..." he paused, as if searching for the word, "his grave."

Lin Se's breath caught sharply, as if something had gripped her throat. She turned to look at Ceylon, its screen had dimmed, leaving only a faint blue afterglow, as if sleeping. She felt a chill rise up her spine, not from the fog, but from Nolan's words, like a blunt knife slowly carving open her heart. She asked softly: "And the blue spice? How much do you know about that?"

Nolan frowned, his gaze shifting to the depths of the fog, as if looking at that abandoned laboratory. "That's something he got from the lab. I saw it once, in a glass bottle, like crushed sapphires. He said it was the key, but didn't say what it unlocked." He paused, his voice dropping, "Lin Se, don't go there. You'll regret it if you do."

She didn't answer, just tucked the letter into her pocket, her fingers gripping her coat, as if suppressing something. She looked up at Nolan, a flash of stubbornness in her eyes: "I've already regretted once." With that, she turned and continued walking, her boots hitting the ground with a sound as determined as hammering nails. Ceylon followed behind her, its clicking echoing in the fog like an unfinished melody.

Nolan stood where he was, watching her silhouette disappear into the fog. He lit another cigarette, his fingertips trembling slightly, the spark dancing in the fog like a lonely heart. He cursed under his breath: "Damn you, Simon." The smoke dispersed, like a thin veil, wrapping around his sigh.

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Ceylon Sensor Log: Runtime 04:18:52, March 13, 2025

Targets "Lin Se" and "Nolan" converged, distance 1.2 meters from me. Environmental humidity 92%, visibility 3.8 meters, fog density interfering with sensor accuracy by 3.1%. Audio sensors recorded conversation fragment: "Ceylon isn't just a machine, it's his feelings, it's his grave." Matching "Simon" keyword, memory chip pulse increased to 0.19 hertz, unlocked.

04:19:07, target "Lin Se" emotional fluctuation, heart rate 98 beats per minute, body temperature 37.3 degrees Celsius, hand muscle tension increased by 12%. She issued mobility command, I followed, pace adjusted to 0.9 meters per second. Target "Nolan" remained stationary, tobacco odor concentration 0.04 mg/cubic meter, smoke scattering light, reflecting blue radiance. My core processor temperature increased by 0.7 degrees Celsius, reason unknown, like an undefined code segment running.