“I will take up arms for human security.”

“I will try every one of my fellow citizens fairly.

“As wrong as it is, it is still correct.”

Polly recited this passage slowly.

“The Trial Court swears.”

An Zhe froze as he heard the last sentence of this oath.

After spitting out two mouthfuls of blood, his body had become lighter and his senses gradually dulled. The strong winter wind blew into his face but it no longer made him shiver with cold. It was like he was an ethereal spirit who would dissipate into the wind at any moment. He propped himself up again, leaning against the railing and looking down at the two badges.

The hexagonal badge was engraved with a pattern. The Trial Court’s symbol was two intersecting prismatic crosses, like indicating directions on a map. The cross stars indicating north, south, west and east were slightly larger and the corners elongated downward to assume a shape similar to a cross. The northeast, southeast, southwest and northwest leaning cross stars were small and hidden.

An Zhe had seen this sharp and angular shape more than once. The dark, silver cold texture, sharp angles and straight lines all revealed a striking soul of killing and murder.

Polly’s fingers rubbed against the surface of the cross. He must’ve traced its shape more than once because the pattern of the badge was deeply worn.

“It is a drawing by one of my colleagues. “In the howling cold wind, Polly looked toward the distant night sky. “We hoped that the cross star will point in the right direction for humans.

“You… aren’t you a fusion scientist?” he whispered.

“I am.”

Polly’s tone was light like a sigh. “I am the leader of the fusion faction and the founder of the Trial Court. The fusion faction is the predecessor of the Trial Court.”

An Zhe suddenly remembered the long corridor in the Trial Court where portraits of each generation of judges were lined up with the date of birth and death. However, the photo frame at the end was removed and the name and date of birth and death were also scraped away. Only a vague letter P was left. This was the record of the first judge but for some reason, it was erased by the later people.

The Northern Base was a place of mixed races. He didn’t know which language the word ‘Polly’ was transliterated from but ‘Polly’ could vaguely approximately be spelt with English letters.

It was just that in his mind, the beliefs of the fusion faction and the Trial Court were completely different. One hoped that humans and monsters could merge safely while one mercilessly killed all the heterogeneous species who tried to enter the base. These two were completely different, to the point where An Zhe didn’t know what to ask. Polly told him, “It was an accident.”

An Zhe had heard many people tell the history of the base. Those peaceful narratives were like limited lights. They lit up every corner of the dark room with lights, so he could piece together the entire room.

“It seems that the ability to keep your will or not depends on probability but we still believe that everything in nature can be traced, even though we have a limited ability to see the rules. Our research is ongoing all the time and it is getting deeper and crazier in that field.” At this point, Polly closed his eyes slightly and faint pain appeared on his face. “An experiment’s body split into two parts for unexplained reasons but it had a unified consciousness. Half of it escaped from the laboratory and the other half remained in the observation room. Since it seemed to be there all the time, we didn’t find the anomaly in time. The escaped half caused a terrible disaster.”

An Zhe knew the disaster. A leech had polluted the entire outer city’s water source.

“The outer city was fully exposed and the base must identify the heterogeneous and humans, eliminating the heterogeneous in time. The fusion faction was the main culprit of the disaster but we are also the ones most familiar with the differences between the heterogeneous and humans due to our study of infection and variation.”

Suddenly, An Zhe understood what had happened. In the first place, the Trial Court was originally from the Lighthouse, not the military.

“All the experimental projects were stopped, the samples destroyed and the experimental bodies were killed. However, the base gave the fusion faction the opportunity to atone. We set up the Trial Court overnight, worked out the trial rules and tried the entire city. In those 10 days, we killed half of the base’s population.” Polly spoke slowly, “The infection was under control and the purity of human genes preserved. Later on, the trial system continued like this. The disaster encountered by the Virginia Base proved its validity.”

“I’ve been in the fusion faction for 10 years and a judge for four years,” Polly spoke slowly. There was a smile on his face but it was more like silent crying. “My original intention was to let everyone have a peaceful life but I killed my compatriots every day. Every day of those 14 years, my sins became deeper.”

An Zhe told him, “However, you also protected the base.”

“No,” Polly said. “I killed innocent people every day.”

An Zhe defended him. “You made detailed rules and acted in accordance with the rules. You didn’t kill innocent people.”

Polly’s answer was a shock. “There are no trial rules.”

An Zhe’s expression was blank for a second as he tried to digest the content of this sentence. He spoke with much difficulty. “No…ne?”

“To be precise, there are no 100% certain rules for determining a heterogeneous.” Polly’s voice sighed. “We have made trial rules using our research results. From all aspects—their appearance, action and thinking—we can judge the species through the biological difference from the external information. However, we can’t guarantee that it is absolutely correct. In fact, the detailed rules can only determine 80% of the heterogeneous species. The remaining 20% we can only rely on experience and intuition and… expand the scope of the execution. it is better to kill by mistake than to let one go.”

“The first iron clad rule of the true trial rules is that it can never be disclosed to the outside world no matter the circumstances. We don’t really follow any rules and the Trial Court always leaves room for manslaughter to ensure absolute security.” Polly’s voice gradually became lower. “When I was stationed at the outer city’s gate, whenever I executed a life, there was a 80% chance it might be a true heterogeneous and a 20% chance it was a human. However, for the sake of insurance, I directly shot them. In addition, among those 80% heterogeneous, 1 in 10,000 might have human consciousness and 65.5% might have their human consciousness restored after many years.”

His voice grew hoarse. “I still remember those four years.”

An Zhe imagined a scene like that and imagined himself being a judge.

He inquired, “So you left the base?”

“I couldn’t compete with the pain in my heart. In the war between heterogeneous and humans, I couldn’t hold on to the end.” Polly stared up at the night sky and spoke after a long silence. “At first, I was miserable about killing my compatriots. Later, even the death of a heterogeneous couldn’t be tolerated. I had been with them for too long and knew that every monster has its own life. I have blood on my hand and was guilty. Later, I betrayed the base with a few colleagues and came to the Highland Research Institute to continue the research of the fusion faction. We accepted the heterogeneous species and I have been atoning all my life. Now it has been 100 years.”

100 years.

An Zhe was slightly puzzled as he looked at Polly. Polly seemingly understood his doubts and smiled. “I’ve lived too long.”

“In the wilderness, the most inevitable thing is infection.” Polly rolled up his sleeves and revealed messy black lines on his right arm.” I was infected by a member of the institute by accident and I left them before I lost my consciousness.”

“Perhaps it was because the person who infected me was sober or perhaps the small probability came to me.” Polly smiled. “I thought only a few seconds had passed but it had actually been decades. My consciousness seemed to have travelled through time and space in an instant. Could you guess where I woke up?”

An Zhe shook his head.

“I was still in the research institute. They recovered me, even though I was a monster at that time. They didn’t give up. Just as I once protected them, they also protected me. Emotions between humans are like this. What you give, you get. In this day and age, trust between humans is more precious than life but I actually got it.”

An Zhe saw the gentle and serene look in Polly’s eyes and understood why Polly and the members of the institute had such a deep affection.

“I don’t regret leaving the baes but I can never forgive myself for escaping and my incompetence.” Polly finally stated.

An Zhe told him, “It is because of your high moral character.”

Thinking about it, he added, “It is because you’re so kind.”

Polly loved everyone so much that he was in such pain. In peaceful times, he must be a man who couldn’t even kill an ant—such a person had to raise his gun to kill his fellow people.

“Kindness…. kindness is the most significant weakness of humans. Kindness to myself is the starting point of selfish desires and kindness to others is the cause of shaken beliefs. I couldn’t be completely indifferent and merciless so I wasn’t destined to be a qualified judge.”

They were silent for a long time.

Thinking of Polly’s words, An Zhe frowned slightly and remembered a man.

“One of the judges told me something.” An Zhe spoke softly. “The source of a judge’s faith isn’t coldness but kindness. It isn’t kindness to individuals but kindness to the fate of humanity as a whole. If you firmly believe that human interests takes precedence above everything else then you won’t be shaken.”

Polly looked at him and wondered gently, “How can I have faith firmly?”

“If we don’t have a kind heart for everyone, how could we dedicate our lives to the benefit of humanity as a whole?”

An Zhe was shocked. His fingers trembled slightly and he finally knew why he every time he faced Polly, he would always remember Lu Feng who was so different from Polly.

Polly closed his eyes, his voice still hoarse. “This is the cause of all the suffering of the judges.”

“Abandoning humanity, killing innocent people indefinitely and eventually being executed by the base. Or staying sober and finally going crazy with unbearable pain. There are only these two destinations for a judge.” Polly explained slowly. “The moment the rules were formulated, they were destined to die.”

An Zhe couldn’t describe his feelings at this moment, He couldn’t breathe as he looked at the cross star badge in his hand.

“If… if there is a judge,” he said. “He has been sober for many years and has always been guarding the gate. His judgment is never wrong…”

He suddenly understood something and his voice trembled. “Everyone hates him because other judges only kill dozens of people every year while he has killed dozens. Actually… it isn’t because he particularly likes to shoot people. It is because he can shoot to minimize more killings.”

He understood, he finally understood. He fought the cold and asked Polly, “What type of man would he be?”

Polly’s answer was simpler than imagined. “He is a lonely man.”

Something fell suddenly. The boulder rolled down and hit An Zhe’s heart. He couldn’t speak until Polly asked, “What are you thinking?”

“I…” Mist rose in An Zhe’s eyes. “I was thinking… thinking…”

He was thinking about Lu Feng.

He once thought that Lu Feng was cold and unforgiving. He once admitted that Lu Feng’s conviction was firm. He knew that the colonel would give his life for the sake of humanity. He also knew that Lu Feng would suffer and there would be loneliness. It just wasn’t until today that he knew there was an unimaginable beast rooted in his heart.

He once said that he knew Lu Feng but it wasn’t until this moment, when he was thousands of miles away from Lu Feng and would never meet that person again, that he fully understood Lu Feng.

“I know this judge you are talking about. Tang Lan mentioned him to me many times. If I can, I really want to meet him.”

“He…” Holding the badge firmly in his palm, An Zhe’s tears finally fell down. “He has been a judge for seven years and killed many people… everyone hates him.”

“Still, he was good to me.” An Zhe smiled but his eyes were hot and his nose red. “In fact, he was good to everyone.”

“You say that you’re a monster but as a judge, I haven’t found the difference between you and humans. What about that judge?” Polly asked.

“He wasn’t sure.” An Zhe’s fingers trembled slightly as he gazed at the mountains in the distance. “The first time we met, he let me go.”

“Sir.” He asked, “If a judge let go of a heterogeneous the first time, would he let go the second time?”

Polly just glanced at him gently.

“He also let me go the second time. He let me go many times. Later, he knew I was a heterogeneous. But…”

He wanted to say something but nothing came out. His heart was being clenched tightly by one hand. He wanted to get rid of this imprisonment that couldn’t be escaped, but he couldn’t.

“I’m sorry…” He confirmed that he couldn’t say a complete sentence and spoke intermittently. “I… when I think of him, I… want to cry.”

Polly held An Zhe in his arms. “Don’t cry, child.”

“Live and you will see him again.”

“I won’t meet him anymore.” An Zhe grabbed Polly’s arm like he was grasping the last live-saving straw in the stormy sea of emotions. He couldn’t stop crying and he finally closed his eyes in a trembling manner, resting his forehead on Polly’s shoulder. “I’d rather… I preferred to have never met him.”

“Why?”

An Zhe couldn’t say anything.

“You can say anything to me, child.” Polly murmured. “You don’t have to fool me, you don’t have to fool yourself.”

An Zhe choked and he cried even more. He couldn’t understand human kinship but facing Polly, he seemed to know. This person was like a kind father, a loving priest or a tolerant God, who knelt in the temple of the lord and could confess everything like an ordinary man. However, he wasn’t facing anyone else or God, he was facing himself.

“I…” An Zhe opened his mouth, body trembling with severe pain and his mind blank. Finally, he crossed the emotional barrier and blurted out, “I want to see him…”

“I want to see him.” He repeated this sentence. “Sir, I want to see him. I want to see him. I don’t regret that I left him but I… I regret it.”

“I know… I know…” Polly patted him on the back, comforting him.

“You don’t know…” An Zhe’s words were contradictory, his emotions torn to pieces and sorrow drowned his soul like the ocean. He wouldn’t be surprised if the pain of this pervasive longing killed him.

“Child, I’ve lived decades more than you. You are young and you don’t know too much.” Polly spoke gently.

“I..” An Zhe looked up blankly, unable to refute it, nor did he argue. There was something in his chest that he couldn’t grasp or see, but he couldn’t describe it.

He glanced over Polly’s shoulders at the endless night sky and muttered, “I don’t know… what?”

Thump thump.

In the brief silence, An Zhe heard his heartbeat. He suddenly had a hunch that Polly’s next words might change his life. He heard Polly’s breathing.

“You don’t know that—” In the silence, Polly declared, “You love him.”

An Zhe’s eyes widened.

In the sky, the aurora changed and the dark green light was like a rolling tide from south to north, dissipating and then regenerating.

He trembled violently. A strong intuition struck his soul like a meteor hitting the ground and light lit up everything in this world. He didn’t know what Polly’s three words meant but he knew it was correct. He was completely dumbfounded and forgot even his sadness as he stared blankly at the aurora in the distance. This lasted until Polly let him go and gently wiped his tears with a handkerchief.

“But why would I?” he murmured. Before he could answer, he was embroiled with a more pressing question.

“Then… will the judge also love me?” He looked at Polly almost like he was praying. “Does he also love me? I’m just… a heterogeneous.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

An Zhe shook his head. The briefness of their relationship was terribly. “Still, he kissed me.”

It was just that An Zhe didn’t know the meaning of the kiss. On that day, the power of words was too weak and they could only do that.

“You are still alive. Did he let you go?” Polly wondered.

“I left him. He has always been a qualified judge and I knew he wouldn’t let me go. I just wanted to leave him and find a place to die, but his gun was left in my backpack and I could return to the Abyss.”

“His gun was left in your backpack?” Polly repeated the sentence.

An Zhe hummed and a faint smile appeared in his eyes. “He always likes to leave his things with me.”

Polly Joan’s hand slowly stroked his hair.

“Silly boy, you have to know.” Polly told him. “A judge’s firearm can never leave them. This is an iron-clad rule that was established 100 years ago.”

An Zhe stared at him silently before finally biting his lips.

“I didn’t know. I really didn’t know.”

“For whatever reason, he must love you too.”

“Will a judge like a heterogeneous?”

Polly replied, “I don’t know. However, I have lived with many heterogeneous species for 100 years—if you think I am still qualified to be a judge.”

Looking at the grey-blue eyes that seemed to know everything, An Zhe thought that Polly must know the reason why Lu Feng liked him but didn’t dare to ask. Polly must have a reason for not saying it.

Heavy images emerged in front of An Zhe’s eyes. Inside the city gates, a woman who lost his husband cursed him hoarsely. At the supply station’s square, a bullet went through Du Sai’s head but she fell toward him. Countless silhouettes appeared, those hoarse shouts, the trembling fear and the love that seeped into the bone marrow. Countless black shadows rose up, surging together and stretching out their hands, a pile of love, hatred and fear that knew each other well, pushing him to the top of the mountain where the cold wind roared and allowing him to look down at this group of beings.

No one approached him, no one knew him and those who admired him would rather make a false doll with his body then take the initiative to even say a word to him.

As for… as for the Judge’s pity and preference, this was something no one dared to expect. What type of creepy fear and unimaginable honour would it be? As a heterogeneous, he was in opposition to humanity yet he had a vague expectation that he would gain and—and he got it.

At least, from the moment when Lu Feng put his gun in An Zhe’s backpack, in this one second out of billions of years—in the second the Judge left his gun to a heterogeneous, he betrayed his life’s faith to love him.

Then like the fairy tales in children’s textbooks, the midnight bell rang. One returned to the Abyss and one returned to the base.

Like a sandstorm that was gradually ending, in the bells, the dust settled. An Zhe’s heart returned to its ordinary frequency little by little. He had received an unimaginable gift but he was completely calm instead.

He felt it was enough, everything was enough.

“If one day, humans are safe and you see him…” He requested of Polly. “Please… please don’t tell him that I’ve been here.”

“No one can lie to a judge.”

“Then tell him that I was here and then left. I’ve gone far away and might be anywhere in the world.”

Polly gazed at him with a gentle and sad expression. “I really hope God will take care of you.”

An Zhe slowly shook his head.

“I can’t love him, nor can he love me.” An Zhe spoke these words gently.

“Unless—unless it is the day when humans fall. However, I hope that day never comes.” In this moment, calm enveloped him.

In the gap between the aurora and the clouds, there were countless, translucent white ice debris. They were falling down and the quiet mountains and night were alive because of these flying things. It was snowing.

An Zhe held out a hand and the hexagonal snowflake fell on his finger. The beautiful shape was gradually lost due to the temperature of his skin and became crystal water droplets.

“I have only known you for three months but this is my lifetime.”

The wind blew louder and thousands of snowflakes fell into the grey corridor, like catkins rising in the spring breeze. An Zhe raised his head, thinking that everything he had forgotten was spread before his eyes, drifting in shimmering fragments.

The stormy waves subsided and the dark tide stopped surging altogether. He wasn’t happy or sad, he just felt the snow was very beautiful. The joy and sorrow of his life, the encounter and parting, the birth and death of all tangible things in this world—they were like fleeting snowflakes.

“Is it cold?”

“It isn’t cold anymore.”

An Zhe remembered the shape of the snowflake and in that second, he got eternity.

The aurora shone on the Abyss.

From the laboratory, there was the sound of glass breaking.