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墨書 Inktalez
The Twelfth Cycle
It was exactly two o'clock in the morning.
In the control room of the tower, the piercing sound of electrical static erupted on cue.
"What’s happening?!" "The radar is down!" "Communication has been interrupted!"
The panicked shouts of my colleagues echoed in my ears like a broken record.
Unlike the previous times, I didn’t rush to my workstation like a headless chicken.
I spread open the memo filled with cryptic notes.
Each cycle, a delay of half a second, different shapes of condensed moisture, slight deviations in noise frequency...
These were all variables.
But they were too random; there had to be something... more crucial, it had to be.
A fulcrum capable of shifting the entire cycle!
I forced myself to recall the endpoint of each cycle.
"Dad... help..."
Each time, her cries for help pierce my heart.
But...
Wait!
I suddenly lifted my head, my pupils constricting violently!
With each cycle, the reactions of my colleagues, the malfunctions of the instruments, and even the rhythm of my own heartbeat are almost perfectly replicated.
Yet...
The only thing that differs is the final signal from Meng Xiao!
Though the content is always "Dad... help...", the background noise, the strength of the signal, and even the emotions embedded in that faint voice... seem to have subtle variations each time!
The first time, the background noise resembled the sound of wind, a soft whistling.
The second time, it was mixed with the violent roar of explosions, booming thunderously.
For the third time, the signal strength was exceptionally weak, as if separated by a thick barrier, leaving one in despair.
...
What do these differences mean?
They mean that at the moment the plane crashed, her situation, her actions, even her... emotions were not entirely fixed!
She... is the greatest variable in this damned cycle!
Not the pen that fell, not the shape of the water vapor! It's her! It's my daughter!
She is still alive; she is struggling; she is fighting with all her might against a predetermined fate!
I must... guide her!
But how do I guide her?
Should I directly tell her the truth? Tell her that we are all trapped in a repeating thirteen minutes?
No!
Previous attempts have proven that abrupt information only makes her more panicked, and could even lead to more dangerous actions, accelerating the tragedy.
It must be in a way that she can understand and accept.
Suddenly, I recalled a fragmented piece of information from one of the cycles, capturing that one sentence.
That sentence was like a needle, piercing deep into my subconscious, causing a dull ache.
“Dad, you’re always busy guarding the sky, yet you can’t see me.”
Guilt washed over me like a cold tide, drowning me in an instant.
Yes, I was always busy at the control tower, busy with flights, busy with those cold data and commands.
I thought I was protecting her, protecting this family.
But I overlooked what she needed the most… companionship and being seen.
Perhaps… this is the breakthrough!
I can no longer use that cold, commanding tone; it’s too hurtful.
I want her to know that Dad sees her.
Dad is with her, always with her.
Zzz—!
The thirteenth cycle.
Two o'clock in the morning.
Chaos still reigned.
This time, I didn’t bother to record the trivial details.
I stood still, closed my eyes, and concentrated all my energy on the faint connection point at the back of my neck.
Time flowed second by second, each moment stretching out like a century.
The gasps of my colleagues and the alarms of the instruments faded into a blurred background noise.
My consciousness pierced through the chaotic electromagnetic waves, trying to capture the faint signal from Flight KUN9371.
Almost there... it’s close...
The end of thirteen minutes was about to arrive.
Beep... beep...
Here it comes!
Now is the time!
I took a deep breath, no longer hesitating. I focused my thoughts and, through the tiny transmitter, sent her an extremely brief message.
"Meng Xiao, check the control tower, something's off."
The message was short and vague.
I didn't know if she could receive it.
Nor did I know if this faint change would be enough to shake the unbreakable cycle.
The signal abruptly cut off.
The familiar sound of metal tearing and the final cry for help pierced through my eardrum once again.
"Dad... help..."
I clenched my fists, my nails digging deep into my palms until they bled.
Zzzz—!
The fourteenth cycle.
It was two o'clock in the morning.
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