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At first, as is often the case, it was just something that piqued her curiosity — a concept that aligned almost perfectly with Ruan Mei's lifelong research subject. The awe-inspiring possibility of an endless harvest; the overbearing abundance of life's fuel. Then, a farfetched hypothesis arises: reproduction and mutation, could both these concepts be related to the Permanence? Could they derive directly from it, spreading out like tree branches? It wasn't an entirely implausible theory, given their recent discoveries regarding the Aeon War, but there was no way to look into it, as Ruan Mei had her hands full with the Simulated Universe and her attempt at creating an Emanator. She could only mull over the idea again and again, which was crucial to her impulsive decision to accept a related partnership proposal the split second she had the opportunity. Soon enough, she found herself buried in research over Yaoshi and Long, coming up with a risky plan to deceive the Xianzhou Alliance and potentially revive an Aeon that had been gone for millennia…
… While gradually moving further and further away from the Simulated Universe, as it had started to seem so secondary ever since.
She had considered the possibility of being removed from the project for acting in an uncompromising way towards it. Though she hoped it wouldn't come down to it, she still had a long way to go before being able to make up for her absence — a woman can only focus on a single giant project at a time.
To her surprise, however, the most extreme reaction to her withdrawal was Stephen getting sad because he would no longer be eating desserts as often. Screwllum, ever the considerate one, offered to notify her when any interesting discoveries turned up. Herta… Well, as expected from the leader of the project that Ruan Mei was casting aside like a worn-out doll, she was anything but flattered. One could even assume she was grumpy, but it was hard to tell, given her usual behavior. That aside, there was not much resistance or any retaliation; Ruan Mei had no idea whether this numb reaction was due to her crucial role in the project, which allowed her a certain amount of tolerance, or just indifference to her presence.
… It wasn't as if it mattered. She had been called to participate with the sole objective of obtaining results. Trivial things like emotional attachment, none of that was necessary or should be sought for.
Ruan Mei departed from the Space Station and headed to the Xianzhou Luofu with the promise of returning soon to check on her creations and continue the project.
Barely two weeks in, she started receiving… odd messages.
< Greetings, Miss Ruan Mei. Forgive me for interrupting you with such matters, but I believe it necessary to reiterate that all geniuses must be present during the monthly maintenance of the projection device. Wishing your research a smooth development and hoping you can return in time. Stephen won't admit it, but he misses you.
< Greetings, Miss Ruan Mei. As of recently, we came across a rather strange occurrence. Many errors have popped up in the Simulated Universe's system. They weren't as frequent before you left, but they're not a direct result of your absence, which has left me puzzled. I theorize that the lack of an adult Stephen doesn't find terrifying around has caused his work efficiency to decline. As a result... Miss Herta has been making him work double time. Poor Stephen. When you get back, we can test whether this theory holds water. Wishing you the best.
< Miss Ruan Mei, I apologize if this question seems insensitive, but could you tell me the password to the cat cake laboratory? Miss Herta believes she has forgotten something inside, but she cannot guess the password.
With an upside down smile, Ruan Mei shook her head in disapproval and typed out her reply:
She has my contact. Why doesn't she ask me directly? >
< She said she intended to ask you before you left, but didn't get the chance to because you didn't bother saying goodbye to her.
…
Ruan Mei’s smile melted like a candle.
So that was why Herta had decided to lock herself in her office all day on Ruan Mei's scheduled departure, not even leaving for lunch? In hopes that Ruan Mei would postpone the trip entirely?
Screwllum, please do me a favor and tell her I'm sincerely sorry if I hurt her feelings. Tell her that, if I had seen her, I would have been bewitched by her appearance and wouldn't be able to concentrate on my new project after leaving. >
< Miss Herta said you won't get back into her good graces through flattery this time. She also said she doesn't want to see the cakes anymore, so... Well, to put it a little more lightly, she said you can keep your password to yourself.
…Didn't she say she had forgotten something inside? >
< She just stormed out of the room while muttering obscenities. I'll leave her alone for now, but I'm not sure if this is the kind of tantrum that fades with time.
It's alright. You've done your best. I'll think of a way to appease her spirits. >
< Very well then. Miss Ruan Mei, please hurry back as soon as possible. The errors in the Simulated Universe seem to have tripled in quantity, and your input would be very valuable. Wishing you the best.
Once the crisis caused by Phantylia on the Xianzhou Luofu came to an end and Luocha was detained for orchestrating the entire ordeal and bringing a potential threat within the coffin alongside him into the ship, the first step of the plan was as good as completed. From now on, there was nothing Ruan Mei could do but wait for news; whether, upon arriving at Xianzhou Xuling and having their audience with the Marshal and the Arbiter Generals, Luocha and Jingliu would be able to convince them to take part in the plan or not, that would be entirely up to them.
Now that she had enough space to breathe, Ruan Mei didn’t allow herself the freedom to linger and go sightseeing. As soon as she received news of the imprisonment, she was already leaving the Luofu and heading back to the Space Station.
How could she put it…? There are general crises and individual crises, but every crisis is a crisis, and the sooner an effort is made to deal with them, the better.
Ruan Mei wisely dodged the crowd of fans waiting to welcome her at the Supply Zone and made her way, after a short stop at the cafeteria, straight to Herta's Office. The bright light from the projection device outlined the silhouette of two people standing in front of it; a man wearing a fedora hat and a woman wearing a huge witch hat. The two seemed to be in the middle of an argument, given the heated murmurs between the robotic and the female voice. Ruan Mei approached from behind silently and waited for her presence to be noticed, taking the opportunity to listen in.
“And what do you think I've been doing all night?” Herta said, raising her hands indignantly. “It's easy for you to dismiss sleepless nights when you don't need to sleep yourself. But your lack of empathy is a problem for you to solve, not something I need to accommodate.”
“Miss Herta, please be reasonable. I never said—” Screwllum tried to put a word in, only to be interrupted abruptly:
“Be reasonable? Did you just tell me to be reasonable?” Herta's crossed her arms and scoffed: “It must be so difficult to deal with people who aren’t perfectly programmed not to make mistakes. You must be so frustrated!” She exclaimed through gritted teeth, staring daggers into Screwllum’s eyes.
“To insinuate that I have any form of prejudice against organic life deeply offends me, Miss Herta. If you are unable to respect me even as I try to help you, I shall leave you to your own company for now.” Screwllum replied, already turning to leave. Just then, when he raised his head to look for the door, an embarrassing scene unfolded.
Ruan Mei, standing five steps behind them with a dumbfounded expression, was holding a small tray with desserts and coffee that she had just bought to share with them, stunned speechless.
Screwllum, ashamed of being caught in such an aggressive interaction and in fear of the situation getting exponentially worse.
And finally, Herta, who found the sudden silence strange, turned around to peek, and came face to face with Ruan Mei. Her expressions pirouetted through the stages of surprise, confusion and resentment, only to arrive at an accusatory squinting of her eyes in Screwllum's direction.
“Miss Ruan Mei... long time no see. Ha. Ha." Screwllum coughed.
Herta gestured towards Ruan Mei and opened an incredulous smile, “Care to explain?”
“... I thought I'd pay for your lunch. As a... courtesy... I think…?” Ruan Mei muttered, looking down at the tray.
Herta was silent for a few seconds, staring at the tray, fury momentarily appeased. But that didn't last long. She forced herself to avert her eyes and continued complaining: “I was asking Screwllum. He never… he didn't mention that you were visiting today.”
“I'm not here for a visit.” Ruan Mei explained, finally tranquil enough to let a gentle smile surface. As if she was embarrassed and needed to distract herself, she began to trace the lid of one of the coffee cups with her finger as she explained: “I decided it was time for a break, and I feared that so much time away from the station would make me forget how to navigate the Simulated Universe. As of now, I'm back for an indefinite period of time. It may sound pretentious, but that's also why this idea occurred to me.” She carefully lifted the coffee cup and offered it to Herta, “I thought the reencounter called for a celebration.”
For a moment, it seemed as if the two geniuses had isolated themselves within a bubble. Ruan Mei, whose patient expression and soft-spoken words had pierced Herta's heart of stone; Herta, whose undivided attention turned someone usually as stoic as Ruan Mei into a person who exuded tenderness.
Silence, albeit a heartwarming one.
Meanwhile, Screwllum stood beside them like a statue, not daring to move an inch. If he took as much as a single step, the metallic clang would draw the witch's wrath upon him again.
Silence. The awkward kind.
Herta took the cup, her attitude evaporating along with the ferocity in her gaze. “If that's how you feel… We can celebrate, then.” She murmured. “But I can't stand drinking coffee anymore. I don't want to ruin my face with hideous dark circles.”
Ruan Mei chuckled under her breath. “Screwllum informed me about your current predicament. I will try my best to aid him and Stephen, so you can take a well-deserved rest and leave it to us.”
Screwllum, who had been perfectly playing the role of a fly on the wall up until now, suddenly raised his hand and frantically gestured a 'cancel' sign on his own neck.
Ruan Mei tilted her head to the side in confusion, but it was already too late. Before she could process what she was supposed not to mention, Herta had already snapped her face to glare at Screwllum, expression fierce: “You told her?”
“...” With the resolve of an animal who knows it is going to be slaughtered soon, Screwllum's projected eyes blinked a few times before he slowly turned around. “Miss Herta, it would be optimal if we talked about this in detail after you’ve calmed down.”
“That's why she’s back. You told her.” She inferred, an accusatory edge in her voice.
Seeing someone like Screwllum being cornered so mercilessly, Ruan Mei hurried to intervene on his behalf. “Mr. Screwllum shared with me his theories regarding Stephen's recent mistakes, that's all. To be honest, I doubt that not being able to eat my desserts would affect him that much. I don't think it was your strictness either, Herta, as it should be no surprise to him. We must focus on understanding the root of the problem and helping him instead of getting into fights between ourselves, alright?” She probed.
For what seemed like the thousandth time, Herta's fury subsided and she let out a dramatically heavy sigh, handing the coffee cup back to Ruan Mei. “I swear that if I can't fix the Simulated Universe and end up having to roll back the entire patch, I'm going to turn Stephen into puree.”
“He won't be able to help you if you keep threatening him all the time…” Screwllum said hesitantly, as if fearing to become puree in Stephen's place.
“Matter of fact, I'm gonna go threaten him right now. ” Herta concluded, leisurely waving goodbye to them on her way out of the office.
Poor Stephen, with the rush to find a hiding place inside the heavily surveilled station and the desperation to escape before Herta could find him and give him another earful, how was he supposed to fix any problems in the Simulated Universe's system?
As soon as the clicking sound of Herta's heels disappeared at the end of the hallway, Ruan Mei abandoned the tray on the desk and approached the projection device with her arms crossed. “I didn't think the situation would be this bad.”
“Now you understand why I rushed you, Miss Ruan Mei.” Screwllum took off his hat, placed it on his chest and shook his head. “I've never seen her so angry before. I'm at a loss of what to do.”
“She must be feeling very ashamed for having ruined our project so much.” Ruan Mei hummed pensively.
“Indeed. I assumed that, when faced with an emergency situation, petty pride would be beyond a genius of such esteemed... Ah.” Screwllum froze in place.
Ruan Mei turned towards him slightly, a frightening smile on her face.
Screwllum silently lifted his hat to cover his mouth.
“No need to feel guilty. I was just fishing for a confession. It's clear as day that she's gotten to the level of aggressiveness that a narcissist only reaches when they believe their pride is being put at risk.” She reassured him, her smile going from menacing to exhausted. “We are prepared to deal with eventualities in the system, but dealing directly with Herta's vanity… will certainly be an experience.”
Returning the hat to its rightful place, Screwllum approached the projection device beside Ruan Mei. “I wouldn't say it's her vanity we need to deal with…” He muttered, crossing his arms behind his back.
“...?” Ruan Mei looked at him, interest sparkling beneath the icy layer of green in her eyes.
If it were possible for a mechanical life form to break out in a cold sweat, Screwllum would certainly find himself in that predicament right now. Despite his advantage in pretending to be unbothered, he still gave away his discomfort on a silver platter by the excessive blinking and flickering of his projected eyes.
Ruan Mei found his nervousness adorable, but she had no time to waste. Touching her chin gently, she feigned to remember something: “Now that I think about it, Herta didn't even touch the desserts I bought her. The extra sugar would do wonders for her draining energy. Perhaps I should take the tray to her now and, while I'm at it, ask her what you could possibly mean by what you just said?”
Screwllum let out a calculated sigh, as evidenced by the fact that breathing wasn't part of his nature. “You don't leave me much of a choice, Miss Ruan Mei. But before I elaborate, I'd like to ask… How are you so sure of Miss Herta's guilt?”
“Three reasons.” Ruan Mei replied, extending her hand and raising a finger at each of her arguments: “Herta, the terminal narcissist, is acting extremely skittish for someone who is not directly responsible for finding a solution. Stephen, the genius whose main task since joining the project was administering the Simulated Universe's system, not only is committing a worrying amount of mistakes for no apparent reason, but is also unable to fix any of them. And you, texting me nonstop in an attempt to pressure me into coming back to the station faster, as if a single visit from me would magically solve a problem that three capable geniuses have been trying to solve together for days unsuccessfully.” After raising the third finger, she spread out her palm towards Screwllum and politely requested: “The reports, please.”
“They're all with Stephen.” Screwllum replied. “He's diligently reading and rereading them, but… alas. If it really is Miss Herta's fault, why would she let Stephen continue in the situation he’s in?”
“I would guess Stephen took the blame for the problems before she had the chance to secretly fix them or reboot the system. Since they are his responsibility now, giving up on finding a solution and immediately jumping to a reset would be disrespectful to Stephen. As a result, the mistakes that are very much not his have been put in focus for everyone to observe and dissect. You can imagine how this must affect her pride.”
Screwllum nodded. He didn’t offer a response this time, but when Ruan Mei peeked at his expression and saw his eyes blinking as he stared at the floor, she couldn't contain a knowing smile. If Herta had been raising hell inside the station for days, Stephen wasn't the only one who had been suffering. If anything, the one who had stayed behind and taken on the duty of calming down Genius #83 like a selfless and self-sacrificial hero — he was definitely going through incomprehensible horrors, as evidenced by his lack of patience witnessed when Ruan Mei arrived at the office.
To distract him from what were probably terrible memories, Ruan Mei changed the subject: “Ever since you told me this story, there's something that's been puzzling me.”
“What would that be, Miss Ruan Mei?”
“We have a theory for the culprit behind the mistakes, but what conditioned them to exist in the first place? Herta is not the type of person to let external things affect her work so easily. She placed one Herta puppet in each and every room of the Space Station precisely so that she wouldn't have to waste her time moving around; would someone who values focusing on their own research so much really dwell that long on a mistake? Is there something worrying her?” She muttered, anxiously playing with her necklace. “For her to be so distracted, something terrifying must be brewing…”
“Actually”, Screwllum raised his finger in the air. “There is no need to “clutch your pearls” over this matter.” He pointed at Ruan Mei's necklace, but upon realizing that she hadn't even offered him an honorary smile for his attempted joke, he awkwardly lowered his hand and continued in a more restrained voice: “In other words, that which has captured Miss Herta's attention is much simpler than it seems... and it has to do with what I said before.”
Ruan Mei’s eyebrows furrowed. Although the announcement should have eased her worries, she still didn't seem relieved. “You mean, her vanity?” She recalled.
“The lack thereof.” Screwllum replied, turning around and starting to head towards the exit. Ruan Mei followed behind him. “In my opinion, Miss Herta is a very romantic human being; powered by enchantments, driven by her passions, living for them and through them. If a share of her dedication is not being spent on vanity, whatever it is being spent on, it is certainly something she is very passionate about.”
“Which is…” Ruan Mei probed.
Screwllum paused in his steps when he reached the door, and as he waited for it to open, he turned to Ruan Mei with what could only be described as the ghost of a smile on his mechanical face.
“It will be easier to explain if you see it for yourself first.”
The Herta Space Station had mainly been conceived as a repository of curiosities, but from the beginning, Herta had already prepared herself to make room for more important things. Apart from the countless rooms meant for the storage of curios of all sizes and properties, the station also comfortably accommodated the entire team of researchers hired by Herta (that is, Asta), the medical team, the cooking staff and potential visitors from outside. Their access to curios was considerably limited, but not impossible. But then, what should be done when Herta acquired a curio that should never fall into the wrong hands under any circumstances?
This curio would be kept in one of the panic rooms scattered throughout the station.
These panic rooms worked like this: next to the identity code reader, there was a small notice saying that the room should not be opened by anyone other than Herta herself or the Lead Researcher, and also that nothing inside should be taken out. There was no indication of a punishment if the rules were broken, but there certainly was one — Herta was just the kind of boss who hated having to threaten her employees into being competent.
Under normal circumstances, Ruan Mei wouldn't go near any of them. She had seen enough curios to know what kind of danger Herta would bring into the station, and she had no desire to risk it out of sheer curiosity.
This time, however, Screwllum had already inserted his ID card into the reader before she could even object. What was worse, a green light appeared on the device and the sound of the door being activated rang out within seconds.
Ruan Mei’s jaw dropped slightly open, a rare perplexed expression on her face.
“When distracted and sleep deprived, Miss Herta becomes incredibly lenient. She allowed me access to the panic rooms in the system when I asked to see a curio related to Rubert I up close and hasn't removed it since.” He explained, a certain air of boastfulness in his voice. The credit was all due to Herta's lack of attention, but for someone as proper and uptight as Screwllum, deceiving someone was a once in a lifetime event, and he couldn't hide his excitement.
“Don't tell me that Herta's descent into madness was caused by a curio related to Rubert.” Ruan Mei joked, following Screwllum into the room.
“Not quite. Here… see for yourself.”
She scanned the large room for what she should look at. This one did look like a warehouse, in contrast to the well-organized exhibitions in the more accessible rooms. There were piles of mechanical items in the corners, stacks of books that reached her waist and a floating mirror turned off, leaning against the wall.
In the center, on a small, round elevated stage, there was a single wooden chair and a person sitting on it.
To be more specific, a child.
She was a little shorter than the Herta puppets. Her black hair was tied in a bun and she was wearing a thick winter coat, as well as comically large boots. Her silhouette, enhanced by the sheer amount of clothing layers, looked very out of place when compared to the station employees’ customary thin, yet heat-producing clothes.
The strange feeling that came over Ruan Mei was explained when her eyes fell on the pair of hairpins adorning the girl's hair.
Golden hairpins, shaped like DNA helices.
Ruan Mei immediately searched for Screwllum with her gaze, as if she needed confirmation; some sort of proof that she wasn't getting carried away.
He nodded, gesturing for her to step onto the stage. “Would you say she is faithful?”
“Hauntingly enough.” Ruan Mei muttered, approaching the chair and examining the child more closely. “The winter clothes, the hairstyle, not to mention her appearance. It's meant to be an imitation of my childhood self, I presume?”
“It seems so. Ah, Miss Ruan Mei, you have no idea how shocked I was when I came across her.” Screwllum walked over to one of the stacks of books, retrieving the one on top and inspecting its cover. “She's fully functional too. When I saw her eyes blink, I truly did consider the possibility that Miss Herta had kidnapped you and used some curio to turn you into a child.”
“A functional puppet...?” She echoed. “I don't understand. Why would she do this in secret? If she wanted to test her ability to make a robot out of someone other than herself, I'd be happy to help.”
“Maybe this will explain it better.” Screwllum said, handing the book to her. The image of a cold, snowy landscape on the cover was already self-explanatory, but the words written in the title made Ruan Mei's heartstrings resonate.
“Surviving on a Cold Planet: Food, Clothing, and Prevention of Environmental Casualties.”
Hadn't she once absentmindedly mentioned her childhood on No Man's Land to Herta?
“Things like emotions and sentimentalities, innate to organic life, have always fascinated me. Every human being, as they mature, begins to restrain their true emotions behind carefully forged behaviors in order to maintain good relationships and to not let their weaknesses show. A shame, considering it is a unique, beautiful and lacking characteristic in the universe.” Screwllum’s eyes seemed to light up even more than usual. “In this regard, Herta is a somewhat unusual case. She doesn't mince words, can be somewhat sloppy with her demeanor, and, when faced with a figure of greater power than herself, she shows no trace of being intimidated. If anything, she looks thrilled.”
Ruan Mei cracked a smile as she recalled Herta's criticism of the other emanators chosen by Nous: “I believe this is age-appropriate behavior.”
“Funnily enough, the spontaneity achieved through old age causes one to recover the sincerity of times gone by and start acting in a childish manner once more, which, in turn, makes it almost impossible for her to navigate the adult way of forming relationships.” Screwllum observed. “It's not that she has trouble understanding social clues, innuendos and euphemisms; she just finds them frivolous and boring. She seems to prefer the raw and sometimes even rude honesty of someone whose true thoughts have yet to be concealed by maturity.”
“And yet, she treats Stephen with an undeniable air of superiority.” Ruan Mei argued.
“Who can escape Miss Herta's condescending words?” Screwllum whimpered. “Wouldn't that be further proof of her sincerity? She doesn't soften her behavior no matter who is on the receiving end. This is not due to self-centered insensitivity. Rather, she simply doesn't want to feign or deal with feigned formalities.”
“Isn't it contradictory to stray from basic social conventions while trying to project an image of wisdom?” Ruan Mei questioned. For someone like her, who had been raised strictly to follow in her parents' footsteps, the very least that was expected of her was that she would naturally be able to form useful connections and maintain them, so the idea of simply refusing to act accordingly was alien to her.
“It is an attitude of contradictory nature, but it does not make her a contradictory person. Let me show you what I mean.” He walked up to the stage and reached out his hand to the puppet's back, pressing a button before taking a few steps back.
Without any beating around the bush, the puppet came alive immediately, opening its big green eyes and raising its head to look at Ruan Mei. She had a certain… humble-inducing expression. Maybe it was because Herta thought it would be appropriate to give the child the same air of tenacious composure that Ruan Mei displayed, but the way it came across made her feel almost… challenged.
The two stared at each other in uncomfortable silence for a while until Screwllum whispered from an intriguing distance: “You need to start the conversation, Miss Ruan Mei.”
Could it be that Herta was skimping on features just because the puppet wasn't made in her image? They were usually perfectly capable of initiating conversations on their own…
Regardless, she shook those thoughts away and mechanically offered the puppet a polite smile. “Greetings, little one.”
“Hello.” The puppet replied, not returning the smile.
… What a stoic child , Ruan Mei thought to herself about herself.
“You can call me Ruan Mei. What is your name?” She asked, in the welcoming tone people reserve for children.
“Meimei.” The puppet replied.
Ruan Mei's smile froze on her face for a split second. She then turned to Screwllum with a surprised expression and mouthed: “How did she know my childhood name?”
Screwllum tossed another book toward Ruan Mei. She caught it with little effort and skimmed the cover. Sure enough:
“How to Raise Your Children in a Society Rooted in Xianzhou’s Culture.”
…
Acquiring a book of that thickness just to fact check the possibility of Ruan Mei being referred to by a repetition of her first name during childhood was definitely admirable.
Ruan Mei squatted down in front of the chair and asked, leaning her head to the side: “Meimei, a young lady like you shouldn't be alone. Where are your parents?”
The puppet's eyes widened. She lowered them to her hands for a few seconds before starting to tug on the fur on the shawl she was wearing over her coat. “I don't know.” She admitted in a slightly quieter voice, but in no way distressed.
“Who's been taking care of you, then?” Ruan Mei asked, extending her hand in invitation for Meimei to hold it. “I can take you back to your parents, but we need to thank whoever kept you safe first, okay?”
An almost imperceptible relief shone within the puppet's eyes. She slowly reached out her hand towards Ruan Mei’s, holding it cautiously. “Alright. I think that… It was a tall lady wearing a big hat.”
“Oh.” Ruan Mei feigned surprise, intertwining her fingers with Meimei's. “That doesn't sound very conventional. Was she pretty?”
The puppet pursed her lips before nodding shyly.
“And gentle?" Ruan Mei continued.
“Yes. Like a fairy." The puppet whispered. “She brings cakes and tea every time she comes to see me.”
Upon hearing this, Ruan Mei let out a little laugh through her nose and raised her free hand to pat the top of Meimei's head. The puppet flinched in surprise at first, but then gradually became more welcoming of it, leaning into the affectionate touch. While the puppet was distracted by it, Ruan Mei freed the hand that was holding hers and brought it to the puppet's back, pressing the button to deactivate it. As Meimei's eyes closed and her neck bent forward, Ruan Mei stood up and adjusted her dress, a faint smile still present on her face.
“It copies my appearance and mannerisms perfectly.” She addressed Screwllum, reaching for her pearl necklace once more. “But it lacks everything that concerns my identity. It doesn't share my memories or the things I held dear at the time. Above all, it claims to have tastes that overlap with my current tastes, but the truth is… I couldn't stand cakes and tea as a child.”
“Now that you know what it lacks, are you able to guess why it does? And why Miss Herta insisted on making it anyway?” Screwllum asked, flipping through the pages of yet another book.
“She attempted to make a version of me in my youth, but her efforts proved futile. It is impossible to reproduce an entire structure perfectly without the knowledge of all the distinct and unique components that the structure is composed of.” Ruan Mei said, her eyes lingering on Meimei’s figure.
“How many attempts to interact with the puppet do you think it took for Miss Herta to realize this?”
Ruan Mei's hand playing with her necklace froze for a moment.
0.
Herta was a genius, for Nous' sake. She understood better than anyone that trying to reproduce an effect without any idea of what caused it in the first place was no different from trying to put pants on over one's head. She knew from the beginning that the puppet would be flawed if she didn't have the crucial information to make it faithful, so, really, why did she still make it?
Her hesitation was taken as an answer in itself by Screwllum. He wordlessly offered her the book he was holding.
Ruan Mei stared down at it with a strange sensation - as if a wasp nest was being stirred up inside her chest.
“How to Connect with People Effectively and Overcome Personal Barriers.”
“You must be aware, Miss Ruan Mei, of the widespread opinion in the universe about us Geniuses.” Screwllum said in a gentle tone.
Her response came out in a somewhat automated way: “... Every Genius has a peculiarity that prevents them from establishing connections with other people.”
“Indeed.” Screwllum nodded. “Some might say that, in my eagerness to be polite, I sometimes end up being tone deaf and superficial. Stephen has an overwhelming ability to understand other people's behavioral patterns, but he can't even look them in the eye without it eliciting a panic attack on him. We've already discussed Miss Herta, but I'd like to add something: even in all her indifference that borders on presumption, if she subconsciously didn't yearn for connection, she wouldn't be such an open book.” He tapped his fingertip on the cover of the book Ruan Mei was holding. This time, his joke managed to steal a small, bittersweet smile from her, which made him secretly proud.
“I think I know where you're going with this.” She said, tucking the book under her arm and lifting her chin. “What would my flaw be, Screwllum?”
“...” He took his hand to his chin, as if trying to come up with a non-offensive way to say it. “If connections are built on trust and vulnerable moments, the characteristic that makes this exchange difficult for you is that, in your eyes, it always takes the form of a transaction.”
“I apologize in advance for assuming things about you, but it seems to me that you use the matters of the heart as currency, vouchers of your trust, as if these emotions and memories were someone else's and not yours, as if they meant nothing and were of no importance to you. You feel comfortable with Miss Herta because you don't have to worry about constantly measuring on a scale what you should reveal to balance the relationship, but you don't realize that she is only so sincere and open-mouthed because she would like others to be too. It's clear as day to anyone with eyes to see: Miss Herta truly wants to form a connection with you. The fact that she needs to resort to things like this,” He pointed at the puppet with his chin, “It says more about you than it does about her.”
“In other words…” Ruan Mei tapped her lips with her gloved finger, gaze falling on Meimei with a calculating expression.
“In other words, Madam Herta is trying to apply the same principles of the Simulated Universe onto this puppet. Except, instead of trying to backtrack from an event to its cause, she just reconstructed what is right about the cause - that is, the existence of your childhood - and is now gradually filling in the puzzle with whatever information she is able to acquire.” Screwllum inferred. “It's an excruciatingly slow process for someone as impatient as her, and it's been made all the more difficult by your recent…” He paused, awkwardly intertwining his fingers, “Shift in priorities.” Right. Xianzhou.
Herta didn't mind a challenge. Knowing her tendency to seek answers to complex problems, perhaps the mystery was even exciting. If Ruan Mei's interior self were an aged, dusty canvas whose damaged surface was indiscernible even to the most talented restorer, Herta would be delighted to take her sweet time uncovering the true colors hidden within. However, now that Ruan Mei had covered the canvas with a curtain and hung it beyond Herta's reach, what was she supposed to do?
… Recreate it from scratch, it seemed.
“I believe her recent carelessness and stress were both caused by your absence, and I don't just mean physically.” Screwllum speculated. “The truth is, Miss Ruan Mei, you can't sit on the fence forever. Miss Herta may be a bit dramatic in the way she deals with the lack of a response, but although she won't pressure it out of you, she is still deserving of one.”
Ruan Mei looked at Meimei pensively as she brought her pearl necklace to her lips. When she finally let it go, she let out a sigh of defeat and pressed her lips together into a restrained smile. “I know what to do, but I'll have to leave the initial problem in your capable hands.”
“Don't worry, Miss Ruan Mei. If you can tame the beast and get it off Stephen, he'll be able to solve everything.”
Ruan Mei gave him a jokingly doubtful look before heading towards the exit. Then, she stopped and muttered, without turning around: “Your kindness… I appreciate it. Even if it's a bit tone deaf, it comes from a good heart. Don't ever change, Screwllum.”
“You flatter me.” Screwllum laughed, sounding embarrassed.
Peeking over her shoulder, she opened a genuinely grateful smile and finally went on her way.
“I'm busy!”
The sound of knocking on the door echoed once more, completely ignoring Herta's response. In disbelief, the Genius looked up from her desk and glared at the door to her office with hostility. After letting out an exaggeratedly heavy sigh, she stood up and walked to the door, entering the code to open it while already mumbling: “Asta, I swear by everything that is sacred that if you are going to be a pain in the ass about this month's bills again—”
When the door opened and she unexpectedly came face to face with Ruan Mei for the second time that day, Herta staggered back, bringing her hand to her chest with a horrified expression.
“...”
“...”
“Am I interrupting you?” Ruan Mei asked, with a level of tranquility that bordered on apathy.
Herta did a double take on the desk, as if she was deciding whether she considered herself interrupted or not. Eventually, she waved her hand dismissively, walking back to it. “I didn't find the brat, but he left these behind.” She picked up a childish looking notebook sheet and waved it in the air. One of the reports, apparently. “I might as well take the opportunity to read them again.”
Ruan Mei followed her unpretentiously. “So you're not busy?”
Herta turned around with her eyebrows furrowed, visibly offended. “Does trying to figure out a way to clean up Stephen's mess not count as being busy to you?”
A thud.
Ruan Mei closed the distance between the both of them and rested her hands on the desk, her arms trapping Herta's waist in place. She leaned closer to Herta's ear and whispered: “We both know the mess isn’t Stephen's.”
She moved back a little to see what kind of expression Herta was making. As expected, her violet-colored eyes, which were usually so condescending and assertive, now looked glassy with confusion and perplexity.
With a satisfied smile, Ruan Mei walked away and began to take a stroll around the office. “I've always liked elaborate hairstyles, but I never had the opportunity to try them out in No Man's Land. The freezing atmosphere combined with the aggressive snowfall made visibility and breathing difficult, so we wore oxygen helmets all the time.”
With an embarrassing reaction time, Herta pushed herself to her feet once more, following Ruan Mei with her eyes, just as confused as before, but not interrupting her.
“I wanted to make my mother proud. It was too early for me to follow the same career path as her, but I always tried to imitate her — from the difficult words she used, to the melodies she strummed on the ruan, to the cakes she baked.” Ruan Mei reminisced, a melancholic tone in the tenderness of her voice. Then, she let out a giggle. “But I couldn't eat them at all. Anything sweet would make me nauseous. I only managed to overcome this once I reached adulthood.”
Realization flashed across Herta’s face. Her eyes softened and she frowned ever so slightly, lowering her eyes to the floor.
Unbothered, Ruan Mei then reached for her hairpins and pulled them out, allowing her hair to fall like black ink over her shawl. “These were also only obtained by me in adulthood.” She said, looking at the hairpins in her hand. “When she passed away.”
“Stop it.” Herta murmured. “I don't know how you found out, but I never meant for it to go down like this.”
The whole thing was humiliating enough. She did hide that project in a maximum security room, after all — It shouldn't have been discovered, and especially not without her having the opportunity to explain herself first. To add insult to injury, the person who should probably have been made uncomfortable by it was now casually offering her what she had always wanted, but in an unnatural, almost coerced way.
Ruan Mei quickly understood that, in addition to opening herself, she would need to show Herta the key to her heart in order to prove that she was making a conscious choice. She left her hairpins on the desk and went around it, extending her hand to Herta: “There is something I want to show you.”
Herta was tempted to reach for Ruan Mei's hand, but she held herself back and looked up at the other woman with discontentment painted all over her face.
“I don't need your pity.” She murmured.
In moments like this, when Herta was persistently stubborn, her true age shone through. Although Ruan Mei conveniently had infinite patience and the two of them could debate on the matter for decades, Ruan Mei decided to put into practice what she knew worked best on someone like her: flattery.
“I used to chew my nails when I was nervous. My mother disapproved of that habit, so I replaced it with a less noticeable one; so much so that my mother herself never noticed it. But you did.” To demonstrate, she touched her pearl necklace — exactly like Meimei had done with the fur of her outfit. "You really saw right through me."
At first, Herta stared at Ruan Mei's necklace in silence. Usually now would be the time when she would start praising herself — 'Of course I noticed! Who do you think I am?' —, but instead, she asked under her breath: “Is that why you never take off your gloves?”
“You even noticed that?” Ruan Mei smiled. “Mm-hm. Let me show you.”
She removed the glove from her left hand and held it out for Herta to see her nails. They weren't in bad shape, despite not being painted. Herta instinctively held Ruan Mei's hand to get a better look at them, and without missing a beat, Ruan Mei intertwined their fingers and began walking, gently pulling Herta along with her.
“Aren't you ashamed of deceiving a senior citizen?” Herta asked, though she made no effort to free her hand and even followed Ruan Mei out of the office willingly.
“I didn't tell any lies. I simply used the truth as bait.” Ruan Mei shamelessly argued.
“... Impertinent.” Herta murmured with what she intended to be disapproval, but which lacked any credibility whatsoever, given it was accompanied by an audible smile.
It was so fat.
To be fair, it was also flattened, which contributed to the overall size. But even though it wasn't the first time she had seen it, Herta couldn't help but be amazed at how fat it was.
“What do you think?” Ruan Mei asked.
“It's fat.”
“It's healthy.” Ruan Mei hummed, her old spirit coming to the surface for a moment. “What else?”
Herta grimaced. “It's cute. I think.”
“It's you.”
“Not a chance.” Herta crossed her arms in a disdainful manner. “She doesn't even have a flower ornament. What kind of Herta doesn't wear a flower ornament?”
With a tired sigh, Ruan Mei boldly removed one of the flowers from Herta's witch hat and placed it on top of the cat cake's head. “Better?”
The two Hertas - the Herta Herselfta and the Cat Cakherta - locked eyes in an ominous manner, measuring each other from top to bottom. It was only after a few seconds that Herta turned her face away, “As I thought, a flower ornament needs to be earned.”
“... Herta, where are we right now?”
“At the section you filled with your ugly cat cakes.”
“The room.”
“I don't know.” Herta looked around. The laboratory that Ruan Mei had improvised at the station was too scary. Not only was it overcrowded with weird cats, but the lighting was dim and in ominous colors. Honestly, every room within this section looked more like a morgue.
“My office.” Ruan Mei gestured towards a small table with a few folders and a mug on top. It was simple, but she didn't spend much time in there anyway. "The only cat cake in here is the one that looks like you. Do you have any idea why?”
“You’re insinuating that that thing,” Herta pointed to the cat cake, “Looks like me? Ha! It wishes it had ⅕ of what I have!”
Ruan Mei subconsciously activated her spoiling mode: “You’re right. Nothing will ever compare to the beauty of the real Herta, but the resemblance suffices.”
Finally being pampered, Herta seemed more willing to collaborate. “Suffices for what?”
“So I can understand you. Here.” Ruan Mei pointed to the pictures of the cat cake glued on the wall, all of them apparently selfies. On its oversized bed, there was a small brush thrown aside and a toy mirror propped up on the pillow. As soon as the two Geniuses took their eyes off the cat for a second, she had already turned around to admire herself in the mirror.
One would expect Herta to be offended. She, however, opened an amused smile: “Oh?”
Ruan Mei sat down in the swivel chair and rested her elbow on the desk; her hand on her chin. “Oddly enough, her voice also sounds like yours. And she's the only cat cake who throws a tantrum if I don't do her bidding. What I wanted to show you with all of this is that the reason why I was able to imitate your personality so well and why this cat cake is the only one I bothered bringing into my office, it's the very same one.”
Herta absentmindedly picked up the cat cake, arranging the flower on its head while answering without paying much attention: "And what would it be?”
“You fascinate me so.” Ruan Mei replied indifferently, closing her eyes and starting to trail off: “Your tastes and habits, your past and your thoughts, your dreams and fears. From head to toe, you fascinate me entirely. I always considered myself lucky that you were such a chatterbox, but I never, not for a moment, considered the possibility that this interest was mutual.”
For a moment, all that could be heard was a bored meow from the cat cake. Herta didn’t say a word, and Ruan Mei was already too deep in it to open her eyes and make the situation more embarrassing. She continued: “The things I told you about myself before, I don't care if you put them into Meimei's system. But if the reason for her existence is your desire to know me better, then I assure you that you will never again need to try to find out things about me in books. In other words, if you want to know something specific about me, just ask. As for what you cannot conjecture, I promise I will reveal it eventually.”
Silence.
Just when Ruan Mei began to ponder how difficult it would be to transform herself into a cat cake to escape the situation she had put herself in, she heard Herta's voice, a little lower and quieter than usual:
“What planet did you come from?”
“... I was still very young when we moved away. Specific things like names — I can't remember them. But the few memories I still have of the landscapes, the summer rains, the flowers and the animals, all of them are vivid like lucid dreams. I can describe them to you. That is, if you don't get bored listening for too long.”
“I don't mind.” Herta blurted out immediately. Realizing how desperate she looked, she tried to cover it up by averting her eyes, feigning indifference and petting the cat cake: “Anyway, I've been working tirelessly and nonstop for days. A beautiful lady always deserves a rest, and while I take mine, I will allow you the opportunity to entertain me. You should feel honored.”
“I do.”
Ruan Mei offered her a tender smile before standing up. She walked over and gently held the other woman’s waist, giving her a light kiss on the cheek. The cat cake in Herta's arms immediately became agitated, meowing loudly. To calm it down, Ruan Mei stroked its head, unable to help laughing at its jealousy. “How about an afternoon snack while we talk? I could bake a cake, if you have the patience. What do you want to accompany it? Tea?"
“As long as it’s not coffee again.” Herta stuck her tongue out. She really couldn't stand the taste of it anymore after so many sleepless nights poking around in the Simulated Universe.
“What should we have, then?”
The Genius was just about to answer, but then she froze. When her gaze returned to Ruan Mei, she had the guiltiest expression that was physically possible for her.
“I'll let you choose.” She replied in a tiny voice, immediately following with a louder, more arrogant tone: "... Just this once. Don't get used to it."
“Hmm…” Herta absentmindedly scratched the cat cake's neck. “Would it be too early for wine?”
“Wine?” Herta's eyes widened. “From Xianzhou?”
“Mn. I bought a few jars of Amber Huadiao wine during my stay. Although… the taste is not as sweet as you probably prefer.”
“No problem. I'm way past the age for picky eating anyway.” Herta shrugged. “That's for spoiled brats like Stephen.”
“Speaking of which. You do realize he’ll only be able to fix the system if you stop terrorizing him, right?”
Herta pretended as if she hadn't heard it.
Ruan Mei returned her attention to Herta and raised her eyebrows, an incredulous air to her smile.
“... Alright, alright. I'll leave him be. Now go on ahead,” She pushed Ruan Mei with her elbow, “I'm just going to return this creature to where it belongs and straighten my dress, but I'm right behind you.”
“She’ll be fine if you put her in front of the mirror.” Ruan Mei advised, playfully squeezing Herta's waist twice before letting go and heading towards the exit.
As soon as she was out of sight, Herta crouched down and placed the cat cake in the cat tree, staring deep into its eyes.
“...”
“...”
“Don't be sad now.” Herta whispered, an evil smile appearing on her face. “You're even cute, but you know how the saying goes. The real deal … ” She reached out and took the flower back, triumphantly putting the flower in its rightful place; her hat. “... Catches the meal.”
“Herta?” Ruan Mei called from afar.
“Coming!” Herta shouted back in an annoyed tone of voice. In a final act of revenge before leaving, she placed the mirror propped up on the pillow with its face down, depriving a clone of hers of its own reflection and sentencing it to a fate worse than death.
After an arduous journey of conflict resolution, Screwllum found himself quite satisfied. Stephen was now working at peace and the other two were, for some reason, baking a cake while talking in high spirits (about what, he wasn't so sure; it would be impolite to listen in, and anyway, just the fact that they seemed to have made peace put his mind at ease). Finally, he considered his duty complete and began the preparations to return home.
Except that, on his way to the boarding area in the Supply Zone, he came across something rather interesting.
Two childish voices whispering to each other.
How unlikely. He knew of some children living within the Space Station, but they usually weren't allowed to wander too far off from the Master Control Zone. Could they be lost?
“What if there was an explosion?”
“I would cover it with an indestructible dome.”
“Made out of what?”
“Out of something indestructible.”
“But what?”
“I would figure something out.”
“Then, what if a meteor fell on it?”
“I would protect it with-”
“-something indestructible.”
Screwllum found it. He approached with silent steps and peered over the boxes stacked on the platform. Hiding behind them, crouching near the glass and staring out at the blue planet in the distance, there were two girls.
The one with short hair, wearing a beret and a puffy dress adorned with a big ribbon on the back, crossed her arms defensively. “What would you do, then?”
The other girl, with her hair tied up in a black bun and wearing winter clothes — Meimei? — hummed pensively before replying: “I would watch.”
“Really? You wouldn't do anything?” The girl in the beret — whose appearance was also not unfamiliar to Screwllum — questioned indignantly.
“I would watch.” Meimei repeated, touching the glass with her palm. “I would watch it from the beginning to the end, even if it took many years. If the planet wasn't destroyed, it would recover and come back to life. I would watch that too.”
“Your answer isn’t valid. You would need to be immortal to watch a planet for that long.”
“You would need to discover an indestructible material before you could build an indestructible dome.” Meimei argued.
“And I would.” The other girl shrugged. “And then I would also discover how to become immortal. Then I would make you immortal, so you could watch your planet being almost destroyed without dying before it did.”
Meimei hid her laughter behind her hand: “What about you? Would you become immortal too?”
“Obviously. And then, when your planet was finished recovering, I would put an indestructible dome on it too. You're welcome.” The other girl boasted.
…
Meimei had fled the panic room.
Not only that, but apparently she had freed yet another puppet, and now the two were debating... ways to... save planets…?
He had forgotten to close the door, hadn't he? But he was so sure he had seen Ruan Mei turn Meimei off…
…
A conflict had just been resolved. For the sake of peace, Screwllum decided to erase this newly acquired knowledge from his memory, simply turn away and continue his journey out of the Station.
Hopefully, on his next visit, Herta's wrath would not be as cruel to him as it had been to Stephen.