Chapter 26: Following Orders

Witnessing this scene, Aiden decided to go downstairs and find help. He felt that Lily would be quite uncomfortable staying here... Besides, it seemed they were planning to take the girl back to the orphanage; it wouldn’t be right to leave her here alone.

Lily was furious!

“Are you coming back or not?” she demanded coldly, speaking directly to the coin.

The coin suddenly flicked upward, hovering about a meter from Lily. After flipping back and forth a few times, it shot towards her in a swift arc and collided with her chest. As Lily cried out in surprise, the coin merged seamlessly into the small patch of bare skin where her neck met her chest.

Aiden, who had just stepped out of the room, turned and rushed back at the sound of Lily’s cry, only to find her collapsed on the floor, mirroring the position of the mysterious girl.

“Lily?” Aiden hurried over to check on her, only to realize she seemed to have fainted. Suddenly, he remembered he hadn’t seen the coin when he entered.

Aiden felt a headache coming on.

Before long, Aiden returned with the others in tow. They all paused in the doorway, taking in the strange sight of Lily and the cloaked girl lying symmetrically on the floor. Their expressions were odd as they turned to Aiden, clearly expecting an explanation.

Aiden’s face remained blank. He’d already reasoned it out: if he didn’t feel embarrassed, then the awkwardness belonged to everyone else. Even if they stared at him, he truly had no idea what had happened—what was there for him to say?

“So what now?” Sandro asked, running a hand through his hair.

“Obviously, continuing with the search and rescue mission is no longer realistic. We know nothing about those ‘giants’ out there, nor do we have a plan to deal with them. If we encounter them again, we’re dead for sure. My suggestion is: we return,” Dunn said, glancing at Lily’s unconscious form.

“But what about Lily?” Camille asked, worried.

“There shouldn’t be any major problem,” Dunn replied, still checking Lily’s breathing. “Her state is very much like deep sleep. Honestly, a good slap might be enough to wake her up.” As he spoke, Dunn raised his hand as if to try.

“Wait, wait.” Aiden stopped him. Under Dunn’s questioning look, Aiden stammered, “It’s... been... over five hours... since we’ve had water... or food... My suggestion... is to first... replenish some fluids... and energy here... and see if... Lily... wakes naturally. I think... we should consider... the risks... of forcing her... to wake up.”

It was impressive how Aiden managed to say all that in one breath, even if he stumbled through it.

“Good point,” Sandro agreed. Stephenson nodded as well, numbed by all that had happened.

“Alright,” Dunn conceded, seeing no objections. He found a spot by the window and began to eat and drink.

———

“I still think a slap would do the trick.”

“Why not just carry them back together? Why insist on a slap?”

As Lily’s consciousness slowly returned, she vaguely heard these words. Bewildered, she wondered who wanted to slap whom, and what this business about carrying was. As she slowly opened her eyes, she saw Aiden with a serious expression, his hand raised.

“Ah!”

“Smack!”

A few minutes later, they were on their way to Waterloo Bridge. Dunn led the group, but if one could see his face, they’d spot several slender, bright red finger marks on his left cheek. At the rear, Lily walked with a guilty, embarrassed look.

Camille carried the girl in the peculiar cloak—no, hooded robe. At first, everyone had thought it was a cloak because of the way she’d lain, but the hood’s design was both elegant and ornate, exuding an understated Eastern beauty—luxurious, yet not gaudy; classical, yet not ancient. The intricate hood captivated everyone, making them wonder about the girl’s identity and origin.

Stephenson couldn’t help sneaking glances at the girl—or rather, at her hood. The ornate patterns reminded him of the images of qilins he’d seen in classical Chinese mythology.

Aiden’s lips twitched with suppressed laughter. Dunn being slapped by Lily was just too amusing; he figured the memory would cheer him up for days. Yet he was also deeply curious as to why Lily had suddenly fainted.

Lily, for her part, reached into her chest and began to twirl the queen’s head coin between her fingers. But this coin was subtly different from the standard issue—if one looked closely, they’d see faint, particle-like motes swirling around the edges, as if the coin itself was breathing.

This was the very coin that had entered Lily’s body. Yet her mind lingered on the new name she’d received upon waking—two Chinese characters: Sui Ming. Presumably, that was the coin’s name, just like her glove.

Lily had no idea what Sui Ming meant. She’d come across so many mysterious terms she didn’t understand. She decided to look up the meaning in Aiden’s English-Chinese dictionary once they got back to the orphanage, following John’s example.

Having learned she’d slept, Lily couldn’t remember if she’d dreamt. She supposed she might have, and this “Sui Ming” coin was proof enough.

The coin had a rather intriguing property: it allowed its holder—Lily—to magnify or diminish the “entropy” of any good or bad event she was about to encounter.

What was “entropy”? Lily wasn’t sure. She vaguely recalled the word from some popular science books on physics, but she was a total novice in that area. The thought made her feel a bit defeated. Did one really need to master physics and chemistry to begin studying the occult? Or perhaps possess vast knowledge?

Magic—the new term she’d learned from Aiden—sounded so cool.

In short, Lily resolved not to use the coin for now. Until she understood what “entropy” truly meant, caution was best.

As for other uses, the coin seemed able to “store” something—but not in the conventional sense, not like a backpack. What it could actually “store” was something Lily would have to figure out for herself.

After a few steps forward, Lily moved to walk alongside Camille and looked at the girl she was carrying. She was deeply curious why the coin had appeared near her, and why it bore a Chinese name. But these were questions only the girl could answer once she awoke.

Lily glanced back in the direction of Dunlin Station, quietly reminding herself that impatience was useless. If she wanted to find John and bring him back, she needed a long-term plan.

The way back to the orphanage stood in stark contrast to their journey out. The signs of time’s decay seemed to diminish, the streets less ruined, giving Lily and the others the illusion that they were walking toward a place of hope.

Yet Lily knew all too well: if the “walls” persisted, if the ravages of time continued to creep toward the orphanage, they would all eventually die.

“BONG!”

A deep, sonorous bell rang out above them, echoing in their ears.

Sandro looked up in confusion. Had they already reached the orphanage? Was it six o’clock?

Dunn and Aiden stopped, scanning their surroundings for the bell’s source.

Camille handed the girl over to Stephenson and began a wary sweep of the area.

To Lily, the bell sounded hauntingly familiar. She had heard it before. As she spun the “Sui Ming” coin across her fingers, the memory struck her: it was the same bell she’d heard on her coming-of-age night, from that towering clock in the strange world. The sound was identical.

But in the next moment, everyone’s faces changed in shock and uncertainty.

After the bell faded, they realized that the buildings and objects around them were visibly aging at an accelerated rate—like watching a time-lapse in real life.

“My God...” Dunn muttered, gawking at the rapid transformation. Words failed him.

Aiden’s face grew grim, anxiety mounting for the orphanage.

Lily’s heart pounded with shock.

Was this bizarre flow of time related to the clock tower she’d seen in that strange world? Was John’s disappearance connected to it as well? But why?

Lily found herself at a loss to understand.