Hundreds of millions of years of wandering. It had always been a single individual, adrift across the vast and desolate universe.

It had watched the vigorous rise of mechanical civilizations, witnessed the wars of slaughter that came with interstellar colonization, seen the exiles and transformations of the black hole era… and then encountered that beautiful blue planet.

Later, using human civilization as its model, it had created one puppet world after another, attempting to revive its own civilization.

It had been such a very long time…

Such loneliness…

It looked at the five victors before it, its gaze lingering, until finally it settled on Bai Youwei’s face, and spoke once more:

“How will you choose? Stay and rule this world — or return, and treat everything as though it never happened.”

She was the king. Her decision would, in large part, shape the choices of her subjects.

Bai Youwei looked at her companions, pressed her lips together, and after a long moment of hesitation, asked Tu Shenshi: “Are there many worlds like this?”

Tu Shenshi: “Yes. To obtain richer and more varied data, there are many such world models. Of course, each develops and changes differently, with different monitors overseeing them.”

Bai Youwei’s voice fell quieter. “Which means… by winning this world, I have become its monitor…”

It thought for a moment and nodded. “You could understand it that way. However, this world’s game has concluded, and within a set period the game will not restart — so it should be relatively easy for you.”

“The puppet world will continue to encounter games, cycle after cycle — is that correct?” Bai Youwei asked again.

“Of course,” Tu Shenshi said. “That is the very purpose of the puppet world.”

Bai Youwei bit her lip, her heart a tangle of confusion.

“I don’t want this, I…” She rubbed her head in agitation, not sure how to put it into words. “…Oversight, control, cycles… I don’t like any of it…”

She looked up at Tu Shenshi: “Is there no way to let us go to a real world?”

Tu Shenshi paused, seeming somewhat puzzled. “…The puppet world is itself a real world. Though monitors sometimes intervene, that alone cannot make it not real.”

“But as long as we never leave it, we will always be puppets — won’t we?” Bai Youwei looked at Tu Shenshi. “I don’t want to be a puppet!”

Tu Shenshi fell silent.

At this point, Shen Mo took Bai Youwei’s hand and said in a steady voice: “My choice is the same as hers.”

Tu Shenshi stood where it was, looking quietly at the two of them.

After a long, indeterminate silence, it spoke in a low voice: “Once you leave the puppet world, every advantage you possess will vanish without a trace. You will be bound by the physical laws of that world. When you die, you will be dead — you cannot return to life, and your consciousness will not be able to persist… Even so, do you still wish to go?”

Bai Youwei looked at Shen Mo, and slowly nodded.

Then Shen Mo nodded as well.

Seeing this, Tu Shenshi replied, its tone unable to conceal a note of disappointment: “Is that so… Then you may try — whether, among the many worlds, you can find the singular ‘real’ one. I, too, shall await with interest.”

Cheng Weicai had wanted to speak several times and held back each time. Now, seeing that Bai Youwei and Shen Mo had made their decision, he finally couldn’t stop himself: “Shouldn’t you think it over a bit more? From the sound of what it’s saying, even if you go to a new world, that world may not necessarily be ‘real’ either…”

“But I don’t like what things are like now.” Bai Youwei bit her lip, speaking with pent-up frustration. “Now that I know I’m a puppet — am I supposed to cheerfully accept that and move on? I really don’t like it. Going to a new world is still better than staying here and being pushed around.”

A look of awkwardness crossed Cheng Weicai’s face. He gave an embarrassed little laugh. “Actually… I want to stay.”

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