Eternal Corolla (Eve of Comet 2023)

As the fluorescent green halo of the tail of the comet soaked the tide, the emerald vines of Linluo formed buds between the collarbones.

Gabriel knelt on the rocks at the end of the storm, and the roots of Rose's birthmark pierced the rock, drawing out the salty moonlight that Emily had sealed up before she died.

"The last token is the Armageddon itself."

Madeline's shadow gathers from the foam, with seven cracked wedding rings floating on her fingertips. "He who wears the crown must swallow the pain of all the centuries of separation."

The vine suddenly clenched her heart, forcing her to spit out the first five tokens:

a bloody pine cone, a plaster shard, a tidal pearl, a suspended bone ring, and storm glass. They formed crowns of thorns in the air, each tip bearing an unsolidified vow.

In the comet's shadow at midnight, the cry of a Martian baby becomes real. The clone's translucent body emerged from the sea mist, and the moonlight birthmark was absorbing Lin Luo's life force.

Gabriel tore off the roots of the rose and smeared the SAP on the baby's forehead

The trenches of 1943, the thunderstorms of 1953, the acid rain of 2023 suddenly burst in the pupils of babies.

The vine of Linlo uncontrollably entangled the clone, and the emerald bud bloomed at the junction, revealing Madeleine's amber coffin in the bud.

"Kiss her!" Emily's voice rose from the coffin. "Louis owes me the answer."

The moment Gabriel's lips were stamped with a baby's birthmark, time and space rolled backwards into the storm of 1927.

He becomes Louis and Gabriel at the same time, watching two centuries of himself tear up the contract together

The forest is engulfed in reality by the buds, and the vines are wrapped in cocoons. Seven heart beats reverberated inside the cocoon: Emily's last pulse in the delivery room, Madeline's self-sealing flutter, Mars's baby's premature birth...

When the comet grazed the moon, the emerald cocoon broke open.

Between Lin Luo's white hair is wrapped the vine flower crown, each petal is a solidified parting moment. The baby in Gabriel's arms was a moonlight jellyfish, the reflection of all the wedding rings hanging from its tentacles.

"The true content of the contract..."

Lin Luo touched jellyfish, memory like venom injection: Madeleine seven centuries ago with a wedding as a sacrifice, human love refined into a vaccine against the increase in cosmic entropy. And the comet is the needle that recycles the vaccine every hundred years.

Gabriel's rose birthmark begins to carbonize and his roots wrap around the jellyfish: "Then let our love be the last pathogen."

A wine-colored aurora rises at the end of the storm. The two re-enact seven unfinished weddings in the aurora, with each "I do" deflecting the comet's trajectory by one degree. When the seventh Oath dissipated, the Mars colony heard the flash of an explosion

Madeleine's amber coffin exploded in space, and the seeds of the vine crowns were sprayed into the Milky Way by the tail of the comet. Linluo's pupils reflect the desolation of 2097:

their clones are kissing among the ruins, behind them the immortal vines that are devouring the planet.

"We won?" Gabriel's rose turned to ashes.

Lin Luo condensed the last tear into a pearl and embedded it in his empty ring finger: "We have extended the qualification of pain."

The end page of the Tidal Bible emerges at the foot, the writing pierced by the eternal vine still growing:

"Love is an eternal insurrection worth destroying a thousand times."

The moment the Eternal vine pierced the Tidal Bible, the emerald crown of Linlo suddenly shattered. A seventh-century Madeline, her hair a sea of wine, her eyes filled with all the unsent vows.

"Children," her voice made the tail burn lavender, "the real contract is to allow you to rewrite my mistakes."

Gabriel's ring finger pearl begins to melt, and the 2097 clone emerges from the ashes. The moon birthmark of the Martian baby was stripped of its mother and flew into Madeline's palm, transforming into the original silver grape embryo:

"This is the eternity I stole, and now return it to time."

The sea of wine at midnight is full of tears. Lin Lo's white hair tangled itself in the ashes of Gabriel's roses and formed a knot in the shadow of the comet like a hanging rope. The monks of the seventh century came out of the vines, held the remains of the wedding rings of all generations, and melted them into new Bibles:

"Please pain at a rate of seven times per second to prove that the heartbeat is still human."

When the comet's gravity reached its peak, Lin Luo stabbed the pearl tear ring into his heart. Gabriel gnawed the emerald petals and wrote the final terms in the void with vine blood:

"Allow love to die in a thousand ways, but be reborn more fiercely each time."

Madeleine's wine sea began to boil. Every bubble is an unfinished wedding, and every bubble bursting is a belated "I do."

The clones embrace each other in the sea of wine and set themselves on fire, and from the ashes fly the pine cone of the torrential night of 1927, and fall gently on the crack of Lin Luo's birthmark.

"It's time to wake up." Gabriel took her increasingly transparent hand.

"We have slept too long in the bridal bed of all centuries."

The eternal vine suddenly blooms, engulfing the earth's roots and gently lifting Provence.

The vineyards were quantized in the tail of the comet, each plant bearing the pearls of Lino and the ashes of Gabriel. Madeline hummed a requiem in the stamen, and the waves shattered the chains of the tidal Bible:

"To love, to hurt, to be your own miracle."

In the flash of the pre-dawn explosion, Linlo opened her eyes in Gabriel's arms.

Their wedding bed was a rock at the end of a storm, and in the morning mist hung the aftertaste of wine rain. Perpetual vines degenerate into symbiotic birthmarks on the wrist, and the cry of a Martian baby becomes the cry of a distant seagull.

The tide sent Madeline's message in a bottle with the suspended bone ring as its stopper. The paper was transparent with a salty lunar eclipse, and only one line glowed with the light of silver grapes:

"When you find me again, please forget how many times this is."

Gabriel slipped the pearl tear ring back on her ring finger, blood seeping from the new score on the inside of the ring - the unspoken last words of the 2097 clone, now translated into the universal wedding vows of all centuries:

"I wish to meet you for the first time in the interval of a thousand wrecks."