(27) “Welcome Back”
“Fourth time. Welcome back.” After the woman's voice over the intercom disappeared, no one moved. Morse stood in front of the train door, the black ticket in his hand slightly crumpled from his grip. He didn't look at Asti or his partner. He only stared at the red indicator light above the door.
“...That voice,” Asti asked softly. “You recognize it?”
“Yeah.”
“Who is it?”
Morse was silent for a moment. “You.”
Asti froze. “Me?”
“The first one.” Morse looked up at her. “The first time you called my name, that was your voice.”
Asti didn't answer. She had heard it too. And she knew even more clearly than Morse did that it wasn't similar. It was her.
His partner suddenly backed away. “No.”
Morse looked at her. “What is it?”
“It's not her.”
“You sure?”
“I'm sure.” His partner stared at the train. “That voice...” Her face gradually turned pale. “I've heard it too.”
Morse frowned. “Where?”
His partner didn't answer. She only looked at Asti. “You've heard it too.”
Asti froze. “Me?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
His partner spoke slowly. “Before the first time we split up.”
A chill suddenly ran through Morse. “So that wasn't Asti's voice.”
His partner shook her head. “No.”
“Then whose was it?”
“I don't know.”
“You just said you'd heard it.”
“Hearing it doesn't mean I know who it belongs to.”
Morse stared at her, and she stared back. A few seconds later, she suddenly added, “But I do know one thing.”
“What?”
“That voice only appears when someone is about to die.”
The entire corridor fell silent. Asti's expression changed. Morse lowered his head. The three words on the black ticket—“Completed”—slowly changed into: “Execute Again.”
“Everyone, back up,” Morse said at once.
Asti looked at him. “What are you going to do?”
“I don't know.”
“Then why are you telling us to back up?”
“Because not knowing usually means danger.”
His partner nodded. “I agree this time.”
Asti: “...”
Morse looked at her. “You back up too.”
“No.”
“Asti.”
“No.” She suddenly grabbed his hand. “This time, I don't want to let you go in alone again.”
Morse looked at her. “I might be the fourth time.”
“I know.”
“There are still three ahead of me.”
“I know.”
“I might not even be the first one.”
Asti looked up. “Neither am I.”
Morse stared at her. “What?”
She looked at him. “If you're not the first Morse, then I'm not the first Asti either. So neither of us is the original.” She tightened her grip on his hand. “So what?”
Morse said nothing.
“If you're the fourth time, then I'll go with this fourth-time you. Not the first, not the second, not the third.” Asti smiled faintly. “I'll go with the one who's here now.”
His partner stood beside them and suddenly muttered, “...Disgusting.”
Asti turned around. “Jealous?”
“No.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“Dust.”
Morse glanced at the white corridor, which was far too clean to have dust in it. “There isn't any dust here.”
His partner glared at him. “You can shut up.”
“Sure.” Morse shut up immediately.
Asti couldn't help laughing. His partner wiped the corner of her eye. “You two are seriously annoying.” But she still walked over and stood beside them. “Let's go.”
Morse looked at her. “You're coming too?”
“Otherwise?” His partner looked at the train. “This time, it isn't about choosing who.” She paused. “It's about finding the person who made the choice for us.”
The first Morse stood behind them and didn't follow. Morse looked back. “You're not coming?”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because I only exist this far.”
“What does that mean?”
The first Morse smiled. “The first version of you can only know the truth of the first version. Anything beyond that is your story.”
Morse frowned. “Then why tell me all this?”
The first Morse didn't answer. Aida, however, walked over to him. “Because he's afraid.”
Morse stared. “Afraid of what?”
Aida looked at the first Morse. “He's afraid you'll make it to the end and discover that...” She lowered her head. “The first time never actually failed.”
Morse's gaze darkened. “What?”
Aida said nothing more. The first Morse smiled instead. “Go, fourth time. Don't look back again.”
Morse stepped onto the train. Asti followed close behind, and his partner entered last. The three of them stood inside the car as the doors closed behind them. Click. The entire car lit up at once. There were no passengers, no conductor, no advertisements, no markings of any kind—only one long corridor.
Morse walked a few steps. “Which car is this?”
His partner looked out the window. There was no scenery outside, only white. “I don't know.”
Asti looked up. “Then how are we supposed to know where to go?”
The intercom came alive. “You don't need to know.” All three looked up at once. The woman's voice appeared again. “Because you've already been there.”
Morse said coldly, “Who the hell are you?”
The intercom didn't answer. “Fourth time, you finally asked.”
Morse frowned. “Answer me.”
“I've been answering you all along.”
“Then make yourself clear.”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Including the first time you killed yourself?”
Morse stopped. Asti and his partner looked at him at the same time. “...What does that mean?”
The intercom laughed. “You don't know?”
“I don't know.”
“Then we'll start with the first time.”
The lights in the car went out instantly. In the darkness, a door lock clicked. Click. Morse felt someone grab his hand from behind. He instinctively turned around. “Asti?”
“It's me.” She held on tightly.
“Where's my partner?”
“I'm here.” Her voice came from the other side. All three of them were there. Only then did Morse relax a little.
The next second, the lights came back on. But the car had changed. It wasn't the present anymore. It was ten years ago. The seats had grown old, faded advertisements were pasted across the windows, and muddy water still stained the floor.
Morse looked around. “This is...”
“The first time,” Asti answered.
His partner shook her head. “No.”
Morse looked at her. She pointed toward the very front of the car. “This isn't the first time.”
“Then what is it?”
His partner's expression was grim. “It's before the first time.”
At the end of the car, someone sat with her back to them. She was small, wearing a purple coat. Morse stopped. Asti stopped too, while his partner went completely rigid.
The person slowly turned her head. She wasn't Aida, Asti, or any version of Morse. She was a girl of about ten. She looked at the three of them, an old rag doll in her arms. “Who are you looking for?”
Morse asked, “Who are you?”
The girl tilted her head. “You answer first.”
“We're looking for Aida.”
The girl smiled. “She's not here.”
“Then where is she?”
“I don't know.”
“But you know her?”
“I know her.”
Morse took a step forward. “When did you see her?”
The girl raised one finger and pointed at Morse. “Before you were born.”
Morse stopped. The girl pointed at Asti. “Before you were born.”
Asti's expression changed. Finally, the girl pointed at his partner. “Before you had been separated out.”
His partner's face went white. “Who the hell are you?”
The girl smiled. “Me?” She lowered her head and stroked the rag doll. “I'm the one responsible for remembering.”
Morse frowned. “Remembering what?”
“Everything.”
“Including Aida?”
“Including her.”
“Including us?”
“Including you.”
“Then you must know who made the choice for us.”
The girl nodded. “I know.”
“Who?”
The girl raised her head. All the innocence suddenly vanished from her eyes. “You.”
Morse froze. “Me?”
“Yes. Not the first Morse, not the second, not the third, and not the fourth.”
Morse stared at her. “Then who is it?”
The girl pointed behind Morse. “The fifth.”
All three turned around at once. There was no one behind them. Morse turned back. “Where is anyone?”
The girl smiled. “He's been there all along. You just can't see him.”
Morse looked at her. “Where?”
The girl reached out and pointed at Morse's chest. “Inside you.”
Morse's heartbeat suddenly sped up. “Impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because there is no fifth me.”
The girl tilted her head. “Are you sure?”
Morse didn't answer. The girl slowly approached and placed her hand against his chest. “Do you know why the fourth time survived?”
Morse said quietly, “Because I didn't choose.”
The girl shook her head. “No. Because you...” She looked up. “You already chose.”
Morse's pupils contracted. “Chose what?”
The girl didn't answer. She suddenly looked at Asti. “You know.”
Asti froze. “Me?”
“Yes.”
“I don't know.”
“You know.”
“I really don't know!”
But the girl only smiled. “Then why are you always afraid of your birthday?”
Asti went rigid. Morse turned to her. “You're afraid of your birthday?”
Asti didn't answer. The girl said softly, “Because every February 18 is the day he dies.”
Morse froze. “Who?”
The girl looked at him. “You.”
The train suddenly shook violently. The white world outside began to crack, black fissures spreading across it. The intercom came alive again. This time, it wasn't the woman's voice. It was Morse's own voice. “Fourth time, you should have remembered by now.”
Morse jerked his head up. “No.”
“You died for the first time on February 18.”
“No.”
“So did the second time.”
“Shut up.”
“The third time—”
Morse pulled out the ticket. “I said shut up!” The ticket instantly burst into flames, black fire crawling up his arm.
Asti grabbed him. “Morse!”
His partner rushed over too. “Let go!”
“I can't!”
“That isn't fire!”
Morse gritted his teeth. “I know!”
The black flames didn't burn him. Instead, they were slowly peeling away his skin, as if digging something out of his body. A voice came from Morse's chest, very soft and very close. “Finally.”
Morse's pupils contracted. It wasn't the intercom, and it wasn't the train. It was—his own voice.
The girl took a step back, fear appearing on her face for the first time. “The fifth has awakened.”
Asti froze. “What?”
The girl looked at Morse. “The fifth Morse.”
His partner's face went deathly pale. “He's awake.”
The black fire suddenly disappeared, and Morse collapsed to his knees. The entire car fell silent. A few seconds later, he slowly raised his head. Asti looked into his eyes, then took a step back, because those eyes were no longer Morse's.
Morse stood up, the corners of his mouth curling slightly. He looked at Asti, but his first words were, “You chose him in the end after all.”
Asti went completely rigid. “...Who are you?”
Morse smiled. “I am...” He raised a hand and lightly tapped his own chest. “The one you killed.”
(28) “The One Who Was Killed”
“I am...” Morse raised a hand and lightly tapped his knuckles against his chest. “The one you killed.”
The car was terrifyingly quiet. Asti didn't move, and neither did his partner. Outside the window, the white world was slowly collapsing. A black line crawled across the center of the glass, like a crack—or an eye beginning to open.
Asti finally spoke. “...Impossible.”
Morse looked at her. “That's always your first line.”
“Because it's impossible.”
“Then you should know,” he said, tilting his head slightly, “that you said the same thing the first time you saw me.”
Asti's breathing hitched. “The first time I saw you...”
“No.” Morse smiled. “The first time you saw ‘me,’ it wasn't this me.”
His partner suddenly stepped in front of Asti. “Stay away from her.”
Morse looked at her. “You're still like this.”
“Like what?”
“Whenever she's afraid, you stand in front of her.”
His partner's gaze turned cold. “I don't care what you are. She doesn't want to see you, so stay away from her.”
Morse didn't get angry. Instead, his smile deepened. “You know, you're my favorite.”
His partner froze. “Because you look the most like me.” Her fingers tightened slightly.
“...Shut up.”
“You always make her decisions for her.”
“Shut up.”
“You always stand in front of her.”
“I said shut up!” His partner suddenly charged forward. The instant her fist swung, Morse didn't dodge. Bam! Her fist slammed directly into his face. His head snapped to the side, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.
Asti jumped. “Partner!”
His partner herself froze. Morse slowly turned back, running his tongue over the corner of his mouth. “Still the same.”
“What?”
“Strong as ever.”
His partner: “...”
Morse smiled. “It was the same the first time.”
His partner's expression changed instantly. “The first time?”
“The first punch you threw at me was before I died.”
His partner took a step back. “I didn't.”
“You did.”
“I didn't!”
“You forgot.”
“I couldn't have forgotten!”
Morse looked at her. “You didn't forget. I took it from you.”
“What?”
He raised a hand and pointed at his chest. “Your memory.”
His partner went rigid. Morse continued, “When we first split apart, I hid your most important memory inside my body. Because I knew...” He looked at her. “As long as you remembered, you'd come back for me.”
His partner's face turned deathly pale. “So...”
“So you didn't forget. I made you forget.”
Asti suddenly spoke. “Then why?”
Morse turned to her. “Why what?”
“Why make her forget?” Asti looked at him. “If you knew she'd come back for you, why take the memory away?”
Morse's smile slowly vanished. “Because she would die.”
“Who?”
“Her.” He pointed at his partner. “The first time, she died because she came back for me.”
His partner froze. “Me?”
“Yes.”
“How did I die?”
Morse didn't answer. His partner stepped forward. “Tell me. How did I die?”
“You don't need to know.”
“I need to!”
“You don't need to know now!” Morse raised his voice for the first time, and the entire car shook.
His partner froze, and so did Asti. Morse closed his eyes. A few seconds later, he said quietly, “Because you shielded me from a train.”
His partner went completely rigid. “...A train?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“With your body.”
“And then?”
“You were crushed.”
The color slowly drained from his partner's face. Morse looked at her. “I took apart what was left of you. I gave your name to Asti, kept your memory here, and the rest...” He glanced at her. “Became the you who exists now.”
His partner was silent for a long time. Finally, she asked, “So I'm not human?”
Morse didn't answer.
“Answer me.”
“Whether you're human or not doesn't matter.”
“Of course it doesn't matter to you!” His partner suddenly grabbed him by the collar. “Then what am I?”
Morse looked down at her. After a long while, he said, “You're the person I refuse to lose a second time.”
His partner's grip slowly loosened.
Asti looked at the two of them and suddenly asked, “What about me?”
Morse looked at her. “What about you?”
“Was I left behind by you too?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Morse was silent. Asti asked again, “Why me?”
“Because you're Aida.”
“I'm not.”
“What?”
“I'm not.” Asti shook her head. “You said it yourself. I'm not the first Asti. I'm the third.” She stared at Morse. “Then why do you still call me Asti?”
Morse didn't answer.
“Why?”
“Answer me.”
Morse slowly raised his head. “Because Aida is dead.”
Asti's eyes went blank. “So?”
“So I didn't want to call you Aida anymore.”
“Why?”
“Because that name would make me remember that she died.”
“So you called me Asti?”
“Yes.”
Asti gave a strained laugh. “You're so selfish.”
“I know.”
“You treated me like her.”
“At first.”
“At first?”
“Later, I didn't.”
Asti looked at him. “When did you stop?”
Morse didn't answer. Asti suddenly understood. “...When I called your name for the first time?”
Morse froze. She looked at him. “You didn't recognize me. From the moment I called you, that's when...” Tears began to fall down her face. “That's when you knew I was me.”
Morse lowered his head. “Yes.”
Asti sniffed. “Then why didn't you tell me sooner?”
“Because I couldn't.”
“Who said so?”
“I did.”
“And the train.”
Asti wiped away her tears. “I hate you.”
“I know.”
“I really hate you.”
“Yeah.”
“You always know.”
“Because you say it every time.”
“Then why are you still smiling?”
The corners of Morse's mouth lifted slightly. “Because you're still willing to say it.”
Asti froze, then punched him in the chest. “You really are the worst!”
“This time it was the chest.”
“Next time, your face.”
“Okay.”
His partner stood beside them. “What are you two even doing?”
Asti turned around. “Settling a personal grudge.”
“On a train that God knows where it's going?”
“Yes.”
His partner fell silent. “Great. I'm starting to think coming with you two was a mistake.”
Morse looked at her. “You're only realizing that now?”
“Shut up.”
The girl had remained seated at the front. She hadn't said a word until now. Then she lightly clapped her hands. “Good.”
All three looked at her. Morse frowned. “What exactly are you waiting for?”
The girl smiled. “For the three of you to become three again.”
Morse's expression changed. “We were always three.”
“No.” The girl shook her head. “There are four now.”
His partner frowned. “Where did the fourth come from?”
The girl pointed at Morse. “Him.” Then at Asti. “Her.” Then at his partner. “Her.” Finally, she pointed at her own chest. “And me.”
Morse looked at the girl. “Are you Morse too?”
“No.”
“Then what are you?”
“I told you.” The girl hugged the rag doll tightly. “I'm the one responsible for remembering.”
“So you remember every Morse?”
“Yeah.”
“Including the fifth?”
The girl nodded. “Especially him.”
Morse narrowed his eyes. “Then you know who he is?”
“I know.”
“Tell me.”
The girl smiled. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because he doesn't want you to know.”
“He's inside my body.”
“Yes.”
“Can he control me?”
“Not yet.”
Morse frowned. “What do you mean, ‘not yet’?”
The girl didn't answer. The train suddenly shook, and a door at the front of the car slowly opened. Footsteps came from inside. One. Two. Three.
His partner clenched her fists. Asti grabbed Morse's hand. Morse stared at the door. A figure walked out. Morse's expression instantly darkened. The person was exactly like him, only younger—about twenty years old. He wore a black coat Morse had never seen before. There was no name on his chest, only a badge: “Archive Room.”
Asti looked at the badge. “This is...”
The girl answered, “The fifth time.”
Morse stared at his younger self. “You aren't inside my body?”
The young Morse raised his head. “I've always been here.”
“Then were you the one controlling me just now?”
“No.”
“Then who was?”
The young Morse looked at the girl. She lowered her head, afraid to meet his eyes.
Morse understood at once. “It was you.” The girl didn't answer. “You woke the fifth one just now?”
“No.” She shook her head. “You woke him yourselves.”
“We did?”
“Yes. Every word you said just now was restoring his memories.”
Morse suddenly stopped. The young Morse took a step forward. “So now...” He looked at Asti. “You should remember.”
Asti's face went pale. “Remember what?”
The young Morse didn't answer. He only raised a hand and pointed at Asti's right hand. Asti looked down. At some point, a ring of black marks had appeared around her wrist, like a railroad track.
Morse grabbed her hand. “When did that appear?”
Asti shook her head. “I don't know.”
His partner stared at the black mark and suddenly said, “I know.”
Morse turned back. “What?”
Her voice was very soft. “That's not a trace. It's...” She looked out the train window. A nonexistent platform was slowly emerging in the white world. “The ticket's handcuffs.”
The intercom came alive again. This time it was still the woman's voice, but it was no longer gentle. “Passengers confirmed. Fourth time: Morse. Third time: Asti. First time: Partner. And...” The intercom paused. All the lights in the car came on at once. “Zero passenger: Aida.”
Asti jerked her head up. “What?”
Morse froze too. His partner turned around. All three looked toward the back of the car. Someone was standing there. No one knew when she had appeared. A purple coat, short hair, head lowered, a birthday cake in her hand. Aida.
She slowly raised her face and gave the three of them a familiar smile. “Long time no see.”
Morse's breath stopped. Aida looked at him. “This time...” She raised a hand and pointed at Asti. “Are you still going to save her?”
The black mark on Asti's body suddenly lit up. The train began to slow, the shrill screech of the brakes cutting through the entire car. But Aida's smile only deepened. “Because as long as you save her...” She looked at his partner. “She'll die.” Finally, she looked at Morse. “And if you save her, you'll have to kill me.”