Twelve

As the pendant swung back and forth, Ai’s eyelids grew heavy, and she slowly closed her eyes, drifting gently into sleep—

Once again, she found herself in that place. The car was still there. She walked toward it; this time, the person who had previously been lying inside was gone. The car was empty. Entering, she searched for clues, but found none. Under hypnosis, her mind was clearer than before—gone was the hazy confusion, the fog was lifted, and there was only the car, with no other soul in sight.

But soon, the car suddenly caught fire, flames erupting skyward in an instant. She was already outside, but to her horror, her own body ignited as well, burning in sync with the car. Though she felt no pain in the dream, watching herself burn until her bones were exposed sent a chill through her. Terrified, she awoke.

Recalling the scene, she calmed herself, realizing something. Why, she wondered, was her entire body wrapped in bandages? Had she truly been burned? Yet, up to now, she had felt no pain. She had not seen her own face, always swathed in white gauze. What did that mean? Would her appearance recover as her body had, or would she be disfigured forever?

Dr. Eddie Min picked up the necklace and examined it closely, seeming to notice something unusual.

“This necklace doesn’t look like something from around here,” he said, scrutinizing it.

“What do you mean? Is it an alien artifact?” she asked, half in jest. Since Dr. Min fancied himself a prophet, an extraterrestrial relic would hardly surprise him.

He chuckled, aware she was teasing him. “Not quite, but I have a feeling the truth you seek might be hidden within this piece.”

“I don’t quite understand...” she replied, shaking her head, lost in thought.

“There’s no way to prove it holds the answer, but my intuition tells me so. I can’t explain it, it’s just a hunch. But my instincts are rarely wrong, believe me. Haven’t you started to sense something strange yourself?”

Ai pondered carefully. “All I know is that my injuries don’t hurt, and my wounds heal on their own.” She continued to recall...

“Do you remember anything about being in the car?” he prompted.

“The car? I only remember waking up inside it. Then I got out. I really don’t remember what happened before...” As she spoke, her agitation grew, and a dull pain began to throb in her head.

“I’m curious why the car showed up there. Did it fall off a mountain? But it wasn’t damaged. That doesn’t make sense... If it didn’t fall, how could it appear out of nowhere?” She muttered to herself, pressing her aching forehead.

“There’s no rush—we have time to think it over,” he reassured her. “Or perhaps we shouldn’t force the memories. We might find clues on the necklace—especially the inscription on the pendant. It must mean something.”

October 25, 2020. SNS Laboratory, 9:45 a.m.

A corner of a hospital bed appeared in her mind’s eye, though the patient atop it couldn’t be seen. A man in a white coat, his back to her, was recording data on a monitor. Suddenly, the data shifted—the lines began to fluctuate violently, the amplitude and frequency increasing. The readings clearly indicated instability.

He immediately picked up the intercom to contact someone on the other end. “Dr. Hollen, the patient’s consciousness is exhibiting abnormal fluctuations. The state is unstable. Should we pause the transfer procedure?”

Dr. Hollen soon entered, stopping between two hospital beds. After a moment’s observation, he returned to the monitor.

“Whose consciousness showed abnormal signs?” he asked.

The man in the white coat was his assistant. Pointing to a complex set of data, the assistant explained, “These are Aiwen’s consciousness waves. When she entered the shared consciousness archive, we suppressed her memories as you instructed. But now, her consciousness is fluctuating. It’s not very pronounced, but something seems to be triggering her subconscious. The anomaly began at the fortieth minute.”

“How could that be?” Hollen frowned. “The code system has been further refined. How did she notice?” He paused, as if struck by a sudden realization. “This shouldn’t be happening. Unless... She truly is more resourceful than I anticipated!” He rapidly entered a string of commands on the keyboard. “She cannot be allowed to become aware of anything, or everything will be for naught! There’s no extra time—we must proceed with the consciousness transfer at once!”

The assistant nodded in agreement.

The scene shifted, focusing on the patient in the hospital bed. Around her neck was a necklace—identical to the one Ai had found—though her face remained unseen.

Anticipating complications, Dr. Hollen had already programmed a backup protocol to stabilize any subconscious warning signals. He simulated sensory hallucinations and restructured their projected impressions. If Aiwen’s subconscious attempted to sound an alarm, he would have a countermeasure ready, to anesthetize her awareness. Now, at this critical moment, the backup program was put into action. Fingers flying across the keys, he initiated the protocol—

That evening, the two women were at home, having dinner together. Ai noticed Xiaoya seemed distracted, rice lingering in her mouth, forgotten.

“What’s wrong? Why are you only eating plain rice and ignoring the dishes?”

Xiaoya snapped back to reality and, murmuring assent, began picking up vegetables.

“I went to see the psychiatrist again today. He hypnotized me, and in my dream, I caught fire. It was terrifying!” Ai spoke animatedly, expecting Xiaoya to listen attentively. Instead, Xiaoya seemed lost in thought, as if she hadn’t even heard. “Are you listening?”

“Hmm? …Which psychiatrist?” Xiaoya finally responded.

“The one Dr. Zhao recommended,” Ai replied.

“Oh, I remember now—the psychiatrist you mentioned before... I’d like to see him too.”

“What’s wrong with you? Are you feeling unwell?” Ai noticed her troubled, absent-minded state.

“I’ve been feeling odd lately, doing things without realizing it,” Xiaoya confessed, unsure how to articulate her distress.

“What sort of things?” Ai asked.

“For example... There was a day I went to work—or so I thought, but it was actually my day off. I’d forgotten. I left home and, without thinking, went to the bus stop instead of the parking lot to get my car. I boarded the bus, only to realize I’d forgotten my wallet and my transit card. I grew anxious... In that moment, I felt so unsettled. It was truly strange.” Xiaoya recalled a sense of emptiness, as if her support had suddenly vanished. She also thought of the incident at the celebration dinner, but didn’t mention it, feeling embarrassed. Even if it had been a false alarm, she preferred not to bring it up. So, she used the bus incident to express herself.

“I kept wondering, how could I take the bus when my car was right there in the parking lot? Why did I subconsciously go to the bus stop? Do you think I’m having a nervous breakdown? Should I see a psychiatrist?”

“That is odd. Maybe you’re just too stressed lately. In any case, you should consult Dr. Eddie Min. He’s a bit eccentric, but I believe anyone who gets his treatment will improve for sure.”

“Yesterday, I ran into Miss Lin again. I just knew it—every time I see her, I feel so uneasy, so uncomfortable...” Xiaoya recalled the incident with the spilled porridge and her inexplicable sadness around Zhong Shiqiang, but kept these feelings to herself.

Xiaoya nodded, conceding that Ai was right. Psychological issues should be addressed promptly.

“All right, the weekend is coming. Take me to see him,” she said.

Ai nodded in agreement.