Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 168 Reincarnation
"What did you forget? Then let me read it to you."

The light in the library is constant, like a long night frozen in a dream, with no dawn or dusk.

The sky is high in the sky, as if there is no end in sight, and time has lost its meaning.

Rex walked slowly among the bookshelves that were as winding as snakes, his steps heavy.

The metal gun body was pressed against his shoulder socket, cold sweat seeped from his palms, and drops of water kept dripping from his forehead, creating silent ripples on the marble floor.

He couldn't remember how many times he had fired a gun.

The clones in her memory were still slowly wandering. Each one of them was identical to Tizel—same face, same tone of voice, same gentleness and lethality.

They held the familiar thick book, reciting his past in low voices, dismantling him page by page, and stripping him empty section by section.

Every breath Rex took felt like stepping on thorns.

He knew that he was tearing "himself" from this world page by page.

"...Enough!" he growled.

The rage exploded in the silent collection, the sound like a war drum beating on a dusty ancient scroll, and the lingering sound rolled and echoed between the pages and the ceiling.

"No matter what - if I kill you, I can get my memories back, right!?"

He raised his gun and without hesitation aimed the scope at a "Tizel" in front of him who was slowly turning the pages of a book.

The man smiled, his eyes filled with the tenderness that only a librarian could have—but they were as cruel as a blunt knife cutting through meat:
"Kill and forget," he whispered.

"It's all too familiar to you. Just like that time... when you slaughtered your fellow officers."

He turned a page, his tone as if he were telling a sad fairy tale, but every word was like a nail piercing his bones:

"Do you remember this? Navy Sergeant Seven Alto, he was your old friend in the bunk below you."

"You've scoured the decks together, he taught you how to tie a lifeline, and he once blocked a stray shrapnel for you."

"But what you gave him in return was a bullet that pierced the back of his head."

Rex's pupils trembled slightly, and the nerves at the corners of his eyes twitched, but he still gritted his teeth and held the gun steady.

"And Pisno," Tizel turned the page, his tone becoming more and more lively, as if he was reading a wonderful adventure novel:

"Old man, the one who first taught you the harpoon gun. You called him 'Uncle Pisno', right?"

"How did you thank him afterwards? Ah... yes, two bullets, a single shot to the right arm—impressively accurate."

He looked up at him, as if a teacher was praising his most proud student, and there was even a hint of almost maternal kindness in his eyes.

"Your aim was much better then than it is now."

Rex's teeth were clacking and the joints between his bones were screaming with pain.

--boom!

The bullet pierced through the shadow of memory, and the face of "Tizel" collapsed in an instant like a page of a book blown by the wind.
It turned into flying words and scattered pages, turning and shattering in the air, and finally falling silently.

He stood in the smoke and dust, gasping for breath, his face pale, but without a trace of joy.

Because he knew that was not the "real Tizel".

The next second, another "Tizel" slowly walked out from between the bookshelves.
As if nothing had happened, he still held the book "Rex Memoirs" in his hand, turning to the page he had just read.

"congratulations."

He smiled and spoke in a leisurely tone, "Another memory has been shattered."

Rex felt dizzy and his body swayed slightly, as if he had lost his balance.

He wanted to breathe, but suddenly he didn't know how to regulate the rhythm——

He forgot.

I forgot how to use the "three inhales and one exhale" technique to aim.

He forgot the shooting rhythm taught to him by his naval instructor.

Forgot the familiar saying:

"Before aiming, breathe in three times and exhale once, letting your breath sink into your heart."

——That teaching was shattered by his own hands.

The muzzle began to tremble slightly.

It's not just because he's tired, but also because the foundation that supports his "self" is being lifted up, torn off, and burned page by page by himself.

He heard "Tizel" sigh softly.

"You're not shooting."

"You are deleting the parts you least want to forget, shot by shot, with your own hands."

"One more?"

"I still have a lot of you here..."

The pages of the book rustled under his feet, and every page was a knife's blade.

Tizel was in the distance, and the sound of turning pages continued. Her fingertips gently slid across the pages, bringing up a whisper like confetti.

"Oh my," his voice drifted over, his tone as frivolous as if he was correcting a student's writing posture in class.

"Why are you shaking? Mr. Sniper, your fingers shouldn't be exerting force at that angle—have you forgotten what that officer taught you?"

Rex roared, his eyes bloodshot, and he pulled the trigger!
--boom!

The bullet pierced Tizel's forehead again.

The pages of the book exploded and fell like dead leaves, and another "written memory" turned into fragments and scattered.

Rex stumbled back a step.

The next moment, he lost his "Wind Judgment" skill.

He felt the emptiness in his ears, and the traces of wind no longer flowed through the ends of his hair, no longer told him through his shoulders that "murder has arrived."

He gritted his teeth and forced himself to continue.

He took aim and fired—another "Tizel" shattered.

This time, he lost his "distance estimation".

He was no longer able to accurately calculate the height difference, wind section, and target movement speed.

Every bullet trajectory in memory became an unquantifiable illusion at this moment.

He still gritted his teeth and moved forward. Because he had to kill. He had to... put an end to it all.

——If he kills a few more, he will be able to see the real Tizel.

This will end the hunt.

But he didn't know what he had left.

The gun body became heavier and heavier, and the edges of the lens became blurred.

He even began to blur those original purposes.

"Why am I... here?"

"Why should I... kill you?"

Tizel no longer ran or laughed. He simply walked a little slower, still smiling, and turned the pages of a book as gently as if he were telling a child a bedtime story.

"Rex..." he whispered softly, as if calling a long-lost relative, "Go ahead and snipe."

"Every one of me here is your memory. Every time you kill one, you are one step further away from your sanity."

Rex's breathing became disordered, his knuckles turned white from excessive force, and blood oozed along the butt of the gun.

He didn't know how many shots he fired or how many "Tizers" he killed.

He didn't know why he came to the Sea of ​​Dreams.

He had forgotten what the Lost looked like.

Forget Sima Ming's voice, Ian's smile, and Alison's gun.

I forgot who Calvino was.

He only heard his own name being called gently in some distant and damp memory:
——"That's enough, Rex..." The voice sounded from deep behind his right lens, like a girl's choked whisper in the night rain, or like the night tide lapping against the shore in the distant sea.

He staggered against the bookshelf, his sniper rifle hanging down, and he seemed to be lost in a dream.

He looked at the familiar lens—the "Eye of Destiny" that had analyzed wind speed, determined targets, and indicated trajectory deviations for him countless times.
But at this moment, it is like a piece of amber that is about to break, emitting a gentle blue light.

That was his secret.

That is - "the banshee who peeks into fate".

She had shown him how to find his way through the darkness, had sung softly in his ear, and had guided him gently like a companion.

And now, she was crying.

The mirror surface trembled slightly, as if emitting a low whine.

A teardrop-shaped light slowly emerged from the surface of the lens, suspended in the air, and turned into a light tear.

Rex tried to speak, but no words came out.

"Who are you..." He murmured, his tone almost whispering.

She did not answer.

Because she was crying.

That was his wound crying.

That was the past he was unwilling to face, trying to retain his last bit of "humanity".

Rex held the lens, his hands shaking.

He suddenly realized that this sniping attack was never aimed at the enemy.

Instead, we must hold on to the light that is still worth remembering before it is "completely forgotten."

In front of the bookshelf, Tizel opened the thick "Rex Memoirs" again.
His fingertips slowly turned the pages one by one, and the rustling sound of the pages was particularly harsh in this empty library.

He chuckled, like a reviewer flipping through an old manuscript, or like a priest slowly reciting the last words of the deceased, his voice full of patience and cruelty:
"This page is almost here."

"The page where you shot 'her'."

He raised his eyes, stared at Rex, and his voice suddenly dropped:

"Do you remember? ... Of course you don't."

"But I remember."

"So, I will read it again - recite to you the fate you once did not want to look back on."

Rex staggered against the bookshelf, a chill running down his spine.

He looked at the lens attached to his right eye. It was his secret - "the banshee who peeks into fate".

It had guided him through storms, calculated his chances of death, and whispered to him the course of his destiny.

And at this moment, it was crying softly.

It wasn't a mysterious loss, nor a warning sign of misplaced fate—it was sadness.

The crying sounded like a girl's whisper in the tide, like tears rolling down the mirror, like fingers gently tapping on the heartstrings, playing out the melody he had deliberately forgotten.

"That's enough... Rex..."

Her voice sounded softly, familiar yet distant, like a deep affection separated by an ocean.

"Stop hurting yourself."

Rex trembled as he touched the lens of his right eye. The lens pulsed slightly like a heartbeat, as if her fingers had once brushed against his cheek—he remembered that feeling.

But he could hardly remember her name.

Who is she and why is she crying for herself?

Why... her singing voice is so familiar?
Tizel's voice interrupted his questioning. He hammered the name into Rex's soul like a nail:

"Number: Memory Number 0322."

"Title: 'Mira's Song'."

"Plot Summary: A tragic love story between a siren and a human."

"The story is poignant and the plot is moving, so read with caution."

Tizel closed the book, his eyes filled with pity and mockery.

"What a heartbreaking chapter... You actually forgot about her?"

"She is the woman who died for you."

"Mira, right?"

Rex felt as if struck by lightning, his heart contracted violently, and his breath was stuck in his chest and he couldn't exhale.

He repeated the name in a low voice, as if afraid that if he let it out, it would shatter in the wind:

“…Mira.”

Tizel smiled gently, like a friendly witness, and continued to hammer away at his remaining sanity with a slow tone:

"She was the one who rescued you from the Sea of ​​Thousand Souls."

"She protected you from your people and sang the siren's song in the deep waters."

"She... fell in love with you."

"And you-"

He slowly turned the pages, like a farewell written in blood:
"On that last day, you raised your gun and pointed it at your comrade, trying to protect her."

"you failed."

"She's dead."

"She cursed you all."

"You are the only one who was pardoned by her."

"Her soul, transformed into a mystery, resides in your right eye."

"And you? Do you remember her?"

Rex lowered his head, tears falling silently on the cold pages of the book.

He slowly knelt down, his forehead pressed against the page of "Mira's Song," and whispered:

“…I remember.”

His shoulders trembled, as if he had finally taken off a long coffin that he had been afraid to acknowledge.

At that moment, a melody sounded from deep within the lens—

That is the song of the siren.

That was the ancient chant he heard when he first woke up in the deep sea. It was Mira's voice, her whisper, her comfort, her call.

In her memory, she looked back at him in the light, smiled and said:
"Don't be afraid, I will always be by your side."

That voice broke through the labyrinth of oblivion constructed by Tizel.

Rex stood up, his eyes red with tears, but his steps were as steady as an anchor.

He stopped shooting.

He stopped chasing.

He simply walked to the back of the bookshelf, followed the direction where the pages were falling, and gently picked up a torn but lightly held fragment.

He turned to the last page.

That was Mira's handwriting:
——"Rex, don't forget me again."

He took a deep breath, and then—

Gently, he closed the page.

"You didn't pull the trigger to forget. You stopped to remember."

(End of this chapter)