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墨書 Inktalez
The nameplate on Alan's chest suddenly became scorching hot, and the metallic wires, resembling veins, wrapped around his wrist. The rhythm of the Mechanical Heart began to synchronize with his pulse; with each contraction, a cascade of fragmented memories flooded his mind: wrists bruised by iron chains, a burning acetylene torch, and the twisted faces of three men in the flames—eyes as rare gray-green as his own.
"Authentication successful. Eternal Life program loading," a mechanical female voice emanated from the remnants of Yamaha's speaker. Suspended parts began to reassemble, forming not a motorcycle this time, but a horrifying hybrid of man and machine. Gears meshed with human ribs, pistons pierced through charred leg bones, and the Mechanical Heart was being placed where the fuel tank once was.
Alan's right hand uncontrollably pressed against the surface of the heart, feeling the warm touch of flesh. As his blood seeped into the metallic shell, the ventilation pipes exploded with a deafening roar, and the charred corpses from Twenty Years Ago fell like overripe fruit. One of the charred bodies suddenly grasped his ankle, its burned vocal cords squeezing out a hoarse call: "Brother..."
In that moment, the dam of memories collapsed. Alan saw himself in 1998 standing amidst thick smoke, three men bound by chains were screaming the same name—it was his childhood name that had been erased. The Mechanical Heart suddenly emitted a blinding light, dragging his consciousness into the engine's interior: intricate oil pathways were transporting dark red liquid, and each spark plug discharge projected fragments of memories into the void.
He saw himself at Five Years Old hiding in a corner of the garage while his father implanted some glowing metal into Yamaha's engine; on his Fifteen Years Old birthday night, three older brothers pinned him to the motorcycle seat, branding an inverted pentagram onto his collarbone; and ten minutes before the explosion on July 15, 1998, he had personally locked chains around his brothers' necks.
"The memory erasure program has failed," the mechanical voice crackled with electrical noise. A holographic projection appeared on Alan's retina; his father's face flickered in and out within the data stream: "The men of the Carter Family are destined to become guardians of the Eternal Gate..." The scene abruptly shifted to a genetic map; he discovered that his chromosome telomeres were three times longer than those of normal humans—this body had not aged since Twenty Years Ago.
The charred corpses suddenly convulsed collectively; iron chains extended from their burned chests, connecting to the Mechanical Heart. Alan felt something cold burrowing into his spine and looked down to find his skin turning metallic. Frantically, he lunged toward the tool rack and grabbed hydraulic shears to cut those chains but heard his brothers' screams amidst flying sparks—each chain that snapped turned its corresponding corpse to ash.
"No!" As the last chain broke apart, Alan's knees crashed heavily to the ground. The surface of the Mechanical Heart revealed his father's face: "You have broken the cycle..." The entire garage began to twist; equations written in blood appeared on support beams. Alan realized in horror that it was a formula calculating the countdown of his life.
Suddenly, asphalt-like liquid surged from the ventilation pipes, coalescing in mid-air into his brothers from 1998. Their transparent bodies intertwined with data streams as they reached out to touch Alan's metallic right arm: "The time has come; it is time for the ritual to restart..." At that moment, Yamaha's wreckage was fully reassembled; in the light projected by its headlamp, streets from 2018 were being engulfed by flames from 1998.
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