#Can be pspsps'd like cats by their blorbo and that's also important to know if you want to understand them.

[phoenixcatch7]

Luo binghe dies.

The system offers the widowed husband resurrection, the ability to continue the world even after the 'true' story has ended. Because the world cannot exist without its protagonist, it comes to a halt. No time will pass until he is revived.

Sqq gets dragged through stories and universes by the system, trying to wrack up the 10,000 points needed. It takes a long time. Far too long. He plays too many roles, spends too years unable to truly settle, goes through so much it all starts to blur together.

Seeing this, an unsatisfying, boring ending without closure getting ever more likely as Sqq continues to fail to remember why he's doing it, the system releases lqg, sqh and the ghost of lbh from the stasis of their world and sends them after him. As the only one with any real understanding of the situation, sqh takes the lead. After chasing his footprints through a handful of worlds (that sqh can sort of recognise, and he adapts rapidly) they are finally find him. But he can't recognise them. He's seen too much, been too much, hidden himself away in more and more layers, not wanting to think if anything outside of the immediate problems. He can only recall the reason he set out in the vaguest terms, deflecting and outright interrupting when pressed.

So lbh manages to pull them into sqq's psyche.

From there, it's like a really big, five dimensional onion. Each role Sqq has taken solidified into another barrier between him and the worlds he was forced to live in and lose in rapid succession. Nothing, individually compared to the world of pidw, but added up they're quite the defence. Inside each layer is a false Sqq hidden in the crowd wearing someone else's face, and an item or location important to that version of him that'll take them through to the next layer.

Each time, they find another thread to the peak lord they lost. Another habit, or memory, or trivia comes back to life. It gets easier and easier to identify him no matter the body he wears. They share stories about him during rests, or moments of travel, to help the others identify him too. They kinda sorta maybe bond.

Then, finally, after a world of zombies and inter sect wars, they find a mimicry of qjp, and Sqq at the table. He's confused but delighted to see them. Even sqh gets hugged. He's shaken at their story, but over the moon at finally reaching 10k points and more than ready to return to reality.

Congratulations! The system says, and offers them their return to the real qjp, with the points needed to save lbh and with it, the world.

Lbhs eager hand on the yes button is clamped in a vice grip.

Sqh is looking at Sqq. Sqq furrows his brows in confusion.

Every transmigrator can see the system. As such, every version of Sqq can see the system.

However.

To the outside world, there is no system. There cannot be a system. To play their role, a transmigrator pretends to not have a system. They do not see a system, they do not hear it, there is nothing there. They play as a native.

This shen qingqiu cannot see the system.

He too is a role.

Lbh presses decline.

They search the house. Fake Sqq, User 002, lets them with mild befuddlement.

In the bedroom, over the bed, they find the rip.

There is a glowing city of glass, a thousand people of every shape and size on the streets. Thousand more race past in cars and buses and trains. By the nature of the dreams, their appearance does not stand out, and they've learned quick how to adapt from the crowd.

They have no clue how to identify him, but for the hundreds of variations they've met. They know his tics, his stance, the way he words his sentences. The way he frowns when confused. By now, they would know him blind and deaf - and they're going to need to.

They split up. They meet back up when the sun starts to go down. Cultivators can work without rest, and they're all highly levelled. They keep searching, unwilling to give up, but they've been doing it for a while, not wanting to pause at the last stretch. They're tired, stressed and jittery from the flashing neon lights and constant roaring sounds and unmoving smog.

A man walks past at 2 in the morning with a luo binghe phone case. A luo binghe key chain. A luo binghe lock screen identifiable from ten paces.

Airplane feels it would be justifiable to punch him.

But he recognises them on sight. Probably. He seems (entirely bro platonically) entranced by his xianxia husband, so it's hard to say.

Congratulations, congratulations congratulations! The system says. Good things should be said three times!

The man startles.

Ten thousand points, lqg says, grabbing him by the wrist. Let's go.

The system doesn't break them out this time. Instead, they treck back to his apartment, where his bedroom computer is the only light.

FIN, it says, and underneath a blinking cursor in an empty comment box.

In the computer, shen yuan says, with the certainty of a dreaming mind.

In the computer?

In the computer, he confirms, shoving sqh forward. The computer is the rip. Aight, sqh says, and reverse girl-from-the-ring's himself back to reality.

He lay on a bed. Looking up: a white, gauzy canopy hung overhead, with finely crafted perfume pouches hanging from the four corners. Looking down: he wore a green robe of an ancient style. Next to the pillow lay a paper fan. Looking to his left: three handsome young men, also in that ancient style.

The one closest to him burst into tears and kissed him full on the lips.