Whether killing him was right or wrong.
Or rather—whether killing him would be good or bad for the world.
Just then, my cigarette burned my fingers.
I quickly flicked it away.
He chuckled at my reaction.
"So what do you think, Marcus? Stunned by my logic, aren't you?"
I blew on my fingers, too busy to respond.
"Didn't expect that, did you?" There was a youthful excitement in his eyes. "Your Uncle Victor really isn't your typical villain."
"I have no idea what you're talking about..."
"Think about it. The typical villain makes all sorts of radical moves, giving the hero a clear reason to kill him. Like wiping out half the world's population for the sake of sustainability, or killing everyone who might commit a crime to prevent crime..."
"That's movies."
"Exactly, Marcus—that's movies!" He clapped his hands, then raised a finger, pointing at me. "The real world doesn't give you such clear-cut reasons. No absolute right or wrong, no black and white—only shades of gray. That's why people have to make choices. Choose your stance, choose your perspective, choose your path forward."
"Uncle Victor, I can actually try to think from the world's perspective. But you have to allow me, first and foremost, to consider you a criminal from Marcus's perspective."
He nodded. "That's already good enough. That's plenty."
Gusts of wind scattered the smoke.
All that remained was the fresh scent of budding greenery.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because the time has come."
"The time has come?"
"Marcus, actually a lot of people in Project Rebirth wanted to kill you, and I stopped them every time."
"Uncle Victor, at a time like this, are you taking credit?"
"No. What I mean is, I kept you alive all this time just to wait for today."
"But today, I'm going to kill you."
"Sure, but today, I'm giving you the entire Project Rebirth."
"What did you say?"
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a leather-bound notebook, handing it to me.
"Inside is the complete roster of Project Rebirth, all organizational codes and protocols, and some of my thoughts about the future."
I understood—this notebook contained every secret of Project Rebirth.
"You have to memorize it. Only what you memorize can travel through time with you," he said. "From today on, Project Rebirth is yours."
"Why?"
"Because I'm no longer fit to lead."
"You founded Project Rebirth, grew it to tens of thousands of members, and you're not fit?"
"Project Rebirth has passed its phase of wild growth. It needs a different kind of leader now."
"I don't understand."
"When the Gate first appeared, I created Project Rebirth. You could call it... a revolution. And revolutions require blood, require things that can't see the light of day..."
"Like killing people."
"Right. But now it's different. Project Rebirth has reached a point where it needs stability, where it needs to integrate with society... Me, my hands are stained with the blood of many, yet I carry the worship of many. In your eyes, I'm a demon; in their eyes, I'm a god. Project Rebirth needs to step into the light... It shouldn't be led by someone like me anymore."
"Then why me?"
"You're Project Rebirth's greatest contributor, then you were reviled by the world, imprisoned, homeless, crawling out of the mud. You're no demon, and no god, but you're a hero who can stand in the light."
I fell silent.
Because I realized that these past two years, I still seemed to be within his control.
Made into the "greatest contributor," then "exiled." He'd shaped me.
Just as everyone expected.
Seeing me glaring at him, he gave an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that. Went and designed a few more years of your life."
"You bastard..."
"But Marcus, I had no choice."
Sadness washed over his face. "Damian was right to worry. Project Rebirth can do anything, so it needs to be governed, guided, restrained. I needed you—your righteousness, your stubbornness, your inability to die."
"Can't you do it yourself?"
"Because I'm tired. Besides, I already brought her back..."
His eyes dropped, as if thinking of something beautiful.
"Just like you brought Jessica back. My mission is over."
---
68
Ten years later, whenever I see this city revealed in its newest vitality, I still think of the words Victor spoke to me on that rooftop.
Ten years.
Jessica didn't end up with me. She married a pianist who knew nothing about time travel, and they had an exceptionally intelligent child.
Master Reeves—his brain damage was erased by the new timeline, along with his memories of joining Project Rebirth. Now he's retired from the police force, living with his resurrected wife, always complaining to me that she makes too many sticky rice dumplings.
The old scavenger moved into a nursing home. Word is, he's currently pursuing a widow two years his senior.
None of them knew that I had taken over Project Rebirth.
Over the years, Project Rebirth has been steadily reducing its membership, retreating into the shadows, and voluntarily submitting to increasing oversight. At the same time, as computing power increased, we accomplished many things Victor couldn't—prevented many disasters and conflicts.
Without the world ever knowing.
In truth, every plan I've made these ten years was already written in that leather notebook of Victor's.
He'd planned a decade beyond his death.
"Marcus, carry this new world forward for me."
In 2006, after saying those words, he slowly stepped onto the rooftop ledge.
I didn't stop him.
And I honored his dying wish, never using the Gate to bring him back.
This was the atonement he chose—for Damian, for Master, for Jessica.
That evening, Victor gazed into the distance.
The setting sun perched on the distant mountains, its light spreading across the entire horizon through thin clouds.
"It's beautiful," he said. "This whole timeline."
Then he turned and gave me a small nod.
Directly behind him was the golden-red sun, flanked by crimson clouds.
He closed his eyes, and leaned backward.
Like parting a red sea.
End of Book