Since you are willing, then I have nothing more to say." Drake let out a sigh. "True Love Magic is actually a curse for a god. It requires absolute, pure love as a vessel to allow a god's soul to descend; a person must offer up their entire thoughts and future loyalty to form True Love Magic, which is also the shackles that bind a god.
Drake did not stay long. Before leaving, he solemnly thanked Colt for everything he had done for their world and shared a farewell hug with him.
“May you be free in your heart, no matter where you are.”
Colt raised his avatar's hand to return the embrace, "And may all your efforts be rewarded, may you break free from the shackles of fate, may you forge your own futures."
Drake specifically chose a time when Timothy was not around to come and warn Colt.
Colt sent the data on True Love Magic to the Red Robin Safe House. He gave it a quick scan; it was essentially a collection of fairy tales, myths, folklore. From an idealist's perspective, it might, perhaps, be real.
“It would be more scientific and reliable to use my 'fixing the source code through Spiritual Connection'."
Timothy was in a bad mood.
The experiments to explore the High-Dimensional World have stalled. After ruling out all other impossibilities, only one possibility remains: Colt does not want to be found by them.
Timothy took a deep breath, tidied the bouquet of wildflowers from the North Pole, snapped off a few bent stems, flashed a smile at the rearview mirror. Only after confirming his smile looked natural did he step out of the car.
“Colt, I'm back,” Timothy's voice arrived a step ahead of him. “Look what I brought you!”
Colt was curled up on the sofa in the living room with a blanket, a laptop on his lap as he recorded something. Hearing the sound, he turned his head toward the door, a pen still between his lips. Birdie, who had been sleeping on his shoulder, lost its balance and rolled onto the notebook; it drowsily scrambled up, only to let out a sneeze from the small flower pressed against its head.
“Arctic Flower, are you going off to do experiments, or are you going on a trip to the North Pole?” Colt held the wildflowers and kissed Timothy's lips. “You've returned at the perfect time; the soup has just cooled down to the perfect temperature.”
Timothy stroked Colt's gentle brows and deepened the kiss.
..
Arctic Flowers are not suitable for being kept in pots; while they were in full bloom, Colt turned them directly into dried flowers.
Timothy picked up the notebook that Colt had dropped on the ground, as he saw the page that happened to be open, his pupils contracted.
What is this?
"I am organizing the technologies I have mastered; it's a list of knowledge intended to be sent back. There are less than two weeks left, so I need to see which fields have gaps and fill them as soon as possible." Colt set the oven temperature for preheating, then cut the flowers and laid them out on the baking paper.
Timothy brewed himself a cup of coffee during the last five minutes before the coffee machine automatically locked, then he trimmed flower stems with Colt to make dried flowers.
“I saw Luthor Tech's technology.”
Mhm, his cloning technology is highly worth studying, especially using the genes of two people of the same sex to clone a child. If in vitro cultivation technology becomes widespread, nations can macro-regulate their populations, no longer needing to worry about aging populations, making it even more convenient for humanity to move toward the interstellar age.
Colt put the baking tray into the oven, set the drying time, turned on the heat to sear the marinated beef.
"Cloning technology inevitably comes with ethical issues. How do you plan to solve them?" Timothy prepared the knife and fork, then brought the soup, which was at the perfect temperature, to the dining table.
The important thing isn't cloning, but in vitro cultivation." Colt placed the steaming steak in front of Timothy. "The technology itself isn't wrong; when the time comes, the country will establish corresponding laws and policies.
Timothy picked the broccoli that Colt didn't like and put it on his own plate. "Your country must be very good."
“She is wonderful, of course.” Colt made himself some egg fried rice.
Timothy sighed, "She must be very peaceful and powerful to have raised a child who loves her like you do. She is a nation of principles, isn't she?"
"Of course, you're rejecting it?" Colt swore that if Timothy dared to say anything about being brainwashed, he would beat him.
No, Bruce was once arrested on charges of being a criminal, I also believe that Gotham's problems can only be changed by God and the Red." This topic was too serious and dangerous, so Timothy shifted the subject to the New World Project. "I tested the waters with Bruce, he didn't refuse. I believe that as long as he is placed in that position, he will certainly do a good job, even if he doesn't like it.
The stability of the New World Government requires a President who is both idealistic and steadfast in their convictions. Colt had tried it in the Dream Station; being a good President was too exhausting, he couldn't manage it, nor did Timothy want to become a target for the White House.
They ran through the data of the New World many times; during the closed beta, the people who became President changed seventy or eighty times, the one who performed the best was still Batman.
Colt asked, "Are you sure he just didn't refuse, rather than not agreeing? I don't want to face Batman's disapproving glare."
“The one who will ultimately have to face 'Batman's disapproving gaze' is me." Timothy lowered his eyes as he put a piece of broccoli into his mouth, then looked up and smiled at Colt. "Bruce didn't explicitly say 'no,' and we don't have any more suitable candidates."
Colt tilted his head to study him, giving him a thumbs up.
Timothy's facial expression management was absolutely perfect, showing no sign of the guilt from the leak of Plan B. At this moment, he even didn't forget to describe a pitiful future where his lover flies far away, forcing himself to restrain his emotions, yet a hint of anxiety and sadness accidentally slipped out when he lowered his eyes, making Colt feel heartache for him.
The two chatted as they finished dinner, cleaned up the dining room and kitchen together, checked on the drying status of the Arctic Flower.
Colt wrapped the dried flowers in paper, placed them in a spherical vase, took one of the remaining flowers to tuck behind the ear of Timothy, who had been following him around.
"World 1735 is almost over. Are you coming to the basement with me, or are you going on night patrol?" Colt asked.
"I'm going to the next room to organize some experimental data, I'll come find you in the basement later." Timothy held Colt's waist, saying he was leaving, yet he refused to let go.
Colt cupped his head, showering him with a series of kisses, moving from the flower by his ear all the way down to his lips: "I love you, Tim."
Timothy muttered that he should have said it first, then he repeated it over and over again, being so clingy that they didn't separate until Birdie squeezed between them in protest.
Returning to the Ghost and Robin House next door, Timothy pulled out the notebook he had casually swiped and flipped it open.
Colt's knowledge list only contained a table of contents, categorized by clothing, food, shelter, travel. Under clothing were interstellar mechs; food mainly consisted of elemental synthesis; shelter focused on planetary environmental modification technology; and travel covered interstellar warp ship technology. Then there were the major categories of medical science, as well as quantum communication, super materials, holographic projection, clones, bionic AI..
All the technologies listed in the knowledge list were things Colt had already mastered.
Colt's learning is highly targeted, encompassing the world's most cutting-edge technologies to propel a civilization into the interstellar age.
It was crazy, yet admirable.
Timothy saw Colt's determination to return home within him. He couldn't find the words to ask him to stay, he didn't even dare let Colt know about the existence of Plan B.
The Counterpart promised to help him collect the data needed for Plan B, they agreed to meet at the Watchtower tonight at ten o'clock to hand it over.
Timothy stood up to go to the basement to change into his Red Robin uniform, upon opening the door, he saw a package.
The alarm in the Safe House didn't go off; it must have been Colt.
Colt occasionally comes to the Safe House to look for gadgets or to move things from his home that he can't fit, so a single bag wasn't worth being wary of.
Timothy thought so, but he immediately checked the surveillance footage and cautiously inspected the black duffel bag.
It bore the Wayne trademark and the Justice League logo, but Timothy didn't remember the company ever releasing this model of Justice League merchandise.
Hello, Mr. Little Reed..
Timothy heard his own voice, or more accurately, the voice of his Earth 50 counterpart. The monitoring and detection system of the Red Robin computer tracked the sound, the screen jumped back to playback starting from six hours ago.
.. It's good to see you. To distinguish me from my counterpart in this world, just call me Drake.
The bag in the Counterpart's hand is exactly this one!
Timothy jumped up and lunged toward the computer, playing it at multiple times speed, his expression gradually darkening.
Colt only restored the Counterpart's memories out of consideration for him! That damn Counterpart actually went behind his back! And even dared to badmouth him! Warning Colt to be on guard against him! A decision made of fear, was it..
Timothy's anger suddenly froze, his expression stiffened as well.
.. I have been waiting for him to make me stay.
Timothy blinked, returned the surveillance footage from triple speed back to normal speed.
.. I've been waiting for him to ask me to stay.
It was Colt's voice, a clear voice that Timothy had adjusted himself.
Timothy opened the Ghost APP, a mini-program he had made for Colt. It was connected to Colt's Quantum Terminal and could record every word Colt said.
The content was not wrong.
Timothy stared at that sentence marked in white text on a blue background in the records: "I have always been waiting for him to ask me to stay."
Colt didn't lack other choices, did he? Did he have to return to his home in the High-Dimensional World? Colt had studied relentlessly for ten years, his super-brain never relaxing for a single day, all to bring more technology back to build his home, didn't he? Although Timothy was skeptical about whether three-dimensional technology would be applicable in the High-Dimensional World, his ideals were nonetheless admirable. Timothy did not want to place himself on the scales of Colt's ideals and love, so he never dared to ask him to stay.
Where exactly did things go wrong?
Timothy started running. He had just run out the door when he rushed back to grab the luggage bag containing the materials required for Plan B.
-3rd Floor Basement.
A holographic projection of Earth hovered in front of Colt.
It was not World 1736 from the Earth Simulator, but a Virtual Earth modeled using the parameters of this world, used to run the laws and systems of the New World Project.
Colt hoped that when Alisa woke up, she would see a safe and beautiful world. But reality was far from ideal. Even if the debuffs were cleared, new laws and systems were implemented, Batman was placed in the presidency to ensure the relative purity and justice of the government, humans would still chase after interests and be driven by greed.
War and evil are like buoys on the water; as one is pushed down, another rises, there is never a moment of peace.
Colt could not use World Reshaping to take all the criminals away, the fact that brainwashing bad guys into being good Superman or Injustice Superman failed had already proven that both killing and brainwashing were ineffective.
Colt brought out the Interstellar Plan he had prepared for his hometown.
The technology he possesses comes from this world, the people are more qualified than he is to enjoy high-tech benefits. Infinite energy, quantum communication, holographic networks, free healthcare, online education.. As the New World Project reshapes everything, the interest groups of the old world will inevitably be broken, the interests of Wayne and Stark Industries will certainly be affected.
Timothy and Bruce wouldn't care; Tony only cared about whether he was the smartest person around. As long as they didn't object, Colt didn't care about any other forces.
Ding!
Colt turned his head toward the elevator.
Timothy rushed to Colt's side like a gust of wind.
"Colt.." Timothy's breathing was heavy, he had lost his usual composure, unable to speak in complete sentences.
"Tim, what happened?" Colt subconsciously pushed aside the holographic projection interface in front of him and reached out toward Timothy.
Was it a massive breakout from Arkham? Or an alien invasion? Was it an attack by the overlords of the Titans? Or was it Brainiac invading? Or perhaps the fall of the Sanctum and Doom from the Dark Dimension arriving on Earth?
The bag in Timothy's hands fell to the ground.
He leaned down, grabbed Colt's hand, pulled him forcefully, pulling him into a tight embrace while murmuring incessantly, "Don't go.."
Don't go.. Colt, stay.. stay for me..
The voice was very light, like a feather brushing against Colt's ear.
The sound fell heavily into his hearing aid, so heavily that it shattered the various images of catastrophes being simulated in Colt's mind.
Colt finally heard the words he wanted to hear. He should have been happy, but instead of smiling, he felt so wronged that he almost wanted to cry.
Okay.
"Thank you.." Timothy kept saying his thanks.
"You kept me waiting for a long time," Colt complained, unable to help himself.
I'm sorry, I was being self-righteous. I thought.. I should have asked you first instead of just making decisions for you.. You tried to say something several times, but I kept changing the subject. God, I'm so stupid..
Timothy kissed Colt's ears, cheeks, the corners of his eyes, the ends of his eyebrows, his forehead, his nose with delicate, dense kisses, before finally landing on his lips.
Forgive me, I love you.