Neo sat down by the beach. The tide washed against the soles of his boots and receded, over and over, tirelessly.
"Heh heh... heh..."
First came laughter, broken laughter that went on for a long time.
Perhaps the most ridiculous thing in this world was not even knowing what you yourself were laughing at.
When Neo raised his head again to look at the dark moon in the sky, his smile gradually faded, and a deep indifference slowly emerged in his eyes.
Kallen was not here. Had he been, he would probably have felt that the captain he had first known seemed to have returned at this moment.
Neo opened his left hand. Holding a dagger in his right, he cut his palm, then remained seated, resting his wounded hand casually on his knee and letting the blood drip.
The blood did not seep into the sand, but collected in a small puddle on the beach.
Gradually, the blood formed an aged face that gazed at Neo.
With an expression caught between laughter and tears, the old face said, "He left, so you called me out?"
Neo did not respond. Instead, he turned his gaze toward the sea.
The old face continued, "This bloodline ritual for summoning an ancestor severely damages the level of your bloodline. You cannot treat it so carelessly, waste it like this."
Neo still said nothing.
"He left, so let him leave. He never existed in the first place."
At these words, Neo finally rested his gaze on the old face.
"You know what I am saying is true. That night, in your dream, didn't you tell me you had consulted an excellent psychologist at a café? What he explained to you actually made sense all along.
"Neo, to keep yourself from being assimilated by him,