As the sun set in the west, Malin strolled down the street, his eyes comparing the ancient map with the possible past of each building he saw, until Salis’s call alerted him. Raising his head and turning his back to the sunset, Malin saw the towering memorial pillar standing among the ruins. The stories of the past had long been obliterated by Chaos and time, leaving the long street filled with cracks where weeds grew, and even small, tenacious trees took root among them; the ruins had become unrecognizable as to what they once were. As Malin drew closer, the memorial pillar became increasingly clear, its surface marked by time’s tiny damages, eroded and mottled words and reliefs, and the steps piled high with heaps upon heaps of dog tags. Malin felt his heart was about to stop, yet he still smiled as he took off his luggage from his back. Ascending the steps, Malin saw a large heap of dog tags, piled together with a small transparent box, inside which he could see a voice recorder. Malin sat down, took it out, and pressed the play button. · I never thought, before me, so many people would bring these things, which nobody even picks up from the roadside, here. If I hadn’t read a book from before the Great Destruction Era and heard that there is such a pillar here... I wonder why I should believe a book from thousands of years ago and bring these things here for people from thousands of years past... But, ultimately, I came, so, until I arrived here, I thought I was a foolish old man, with no predecessors and no successors. The recorder played an elderly man’s voice, sounding a bit wheezy, likely having narrowly survived crossing through the Chaos Zone’s blockade, and then cautiously navigating the outer ruins along the way... truly exhausting. · Then I discovered there are indeed more foolish fellows than me... so many, looking up from the foot of the steps, all of them. At this point, the elderly man laughed heartily, amidst laughter, began to cry, and after crying enough, he resumed talking to himself. · I’m bringing you back because this era is full of such oddities, where death is no longer just a small urn of ashes, no longer like a light gone out... I’m bringing you back, not because I wish you’d protect us, your descendants. At this juncture, the elderly man took a few breaths. · This is Thainan New Hangzhou Corps, a soldier of the third Guards Army, I’ve grown old, too old for the army to employ me, I came here to fulfill my wish, collecting these dog tags on the battlefield, bringing them here... I hope they might protect us, the descendants, but more I wish they might find peace. Chaos is too strong, to the extent that many of us can’t even find peace... Moreover, I was chased by Chaos sentinels when I came, got a bit hurt... I’m afraid I won’t be going back, if anyone hears my last words, please lay me to rest in the grave I dug myself, thank you, child. Malin set down the recorder and looked towards the ruins, the next moment, standing before the ruins, Malin saw a dug-out grave with a skeleton leaning against the wall of ruins, his uniform not completely weathered yet. As Malin lowered him into the grave, he discovered three rusted arrows in his clothing. Old man, how did you make it here. Malin covered the old soldier with soil, took the rusted sword beside him, stabbed it into his grave, and then placed the helmet onto the sword hilt. "Rest in peace, old soldier." After Malin said this, he turned to walk back to another heap of dog tags, here lay no message, only a broken sword, and a bag of dog tags, although the bag had weathered, its thick material still protected these tags. The broken sword seemed to be from an earlier era than the old soldier, a standard weapon for Thainan infantry. Malin felt moved, picking up the broken sword, saw beneath it a sheet of yellowed paper long faded without a trace. The person who brought these dog tags should have left something behind, yet he hadn’t considered that his message would eventually be defeated by time. Throwing the already completely shattered yellow paper into the sky, placing the broken sword back in its place, Malin walked towards another heap of dog tags — those scattered here along with a thing resembling a cell phone laid there. Malin picked it up, a bit surprised — because it was too new. But out of curiosity, Malin still randomly pressed buttons, eventually turning this small device on. Hmm, and the operations panel inside is in Chinese, Malin clicked the icon saying ’click me’. Then appeared what seemed to be a youth from Mars’s era. · Didn’t know who might open this thing, I was indeed enamored by ghosts, still thinking to leave something, obviously the most famous sacred pillar in bizarre tale lore, reportedly wherever people come here to place those dog tags, all tags placed, regardless of the time and place from whom they’re from, ultimately are observed by everyone... would not an old fellow take it away, right? I should tell you first, buddy, if you’re from the Great Destruction Era, don’t think about taking this thing, it’s not like you can charge it anywhere. Malin smiled, understanding at once the boy’s meaning — the memorial pillar had mutated, but not harmfully, merely that its presence connected past and future, thus, Malin here could see messages from long ago, and could see messages from far in the future.