Oliver, Black Canary, and Natasha hid in a storeroom at the very corner of the staff corridor, watching through a small porthole as another dark shadow fell straight into the chilly sea, blood reddening the surface.
As far as the eye could see, the surrounding sea had been dyed blood-red, with hundreds of such corpses floating atop the bloody waters, made even more pallid by the moonlight, like fragnts of lting icebergs.
After their deaths, their connection to one another seed even tighter, as almost every person extended their arms and opened their embraces as if they had never before opened their chests so wide, welcoming the sky as though hands joined hands, forming a vast, serene, and tranquil net.
The three people in the room all knew they could not get out.
As ti passed, Shiller was growing stronger, and the anchor point they had previously surmised was completely ineffective. He no longer followed any rules, simply appearing indiscriminately behind everyone, turning them into a corpse and tossing them into the sea.
Oliver didn't know how many people were left outside; he only knew that if they went out now, they were very likely to beco another piece of floating ice.
"Do you still want to die now?" Natasha asked, looking at Oliver.
Oliver rolled his eyes to look at her, the female agent slightly curled up the corners of her mouth, the weak light coming through the porthole casting her sculpted features in an even more solemn light.
"You never told anyone, but you must have thought about it. Just one bullet needed, shattering the irreparable situation, the heavy burden of responsibility, the impossible-to-reverse circumstances, and they would all have nothing to do with you."
Black Canary looked at the silent Oliver with widened eyes, and said in shock and pain, "You want to kill yourself? You can't do that, Oliver, I an, you should tell if there's anything wrong, you... you're not alone."
By the end, Black Canary's tone had sunk, knowing how pale and powerless her comfort was. Oliver was alone; all those who seed to be on the sa path as him were not truly walking the sa road.
Everyone thought they could establish another Soviet Union in xico, as powerful as the Soviet Union and capable of deterring the whole world, even standing up to what seed like an invincible Arica to this day.
The Soviet Union was the best future they could imagine.
But Oliver knew that establishing another Soviet Union was a dead end; learning from the Soviet Union of the past, present, and future could never truly make xico better.
Of course, the Soviet Union had its good tis, albeit short-lived, so pure and noble that even its enemy, Arica, had to admit that the Soviet Union at that ti was an example worth learning from for the whole world.
But unfortunately, whether learning from the Soviet Union or Arica, neither could save xico.
"xico needs xico," it sounded like a joke, but every country in the world can only take its path that is unique to it. However alike one imitates another, geopolitical factors make it a dead-end path.
So the others were imrsed in the fantasy that having the sa ideology as the Soviet Union ant they had to follow the sa path. They thought the northern bear was declining, but the eagle of the Aricas was still rising. They were young, full of vigor and hope, certainly the best successors.
Only Oliver was soberly aware that they didn't need to take over anyone's baton; they had to find their path.
But no one had walked xico's path before; they needed to create their path.
And the most difficult part was, too close to Arica, too far from Heaven.
xico's geopolitics dood it to be a nearly impossible path, scouring all of history for any solution to no avail, the situation like a baby flailing its arms attempting to knock down a champion boxer with a punch, plunging Oliver into profound despair.
But even when he had co to understand the issue, he hadn't given up. He believed that if one was willing to walk, one could always find a way until he was betrayed, expelled, and sent back to his hotown.
"Sotis I think xicans have the right to choose their future," Oliver said, lowering his eyelids. "A race should have the right to decide their path. If they choose they don't need , then no matter how things develop afterward, it is a consequence of their decision, and no one should interfere."
"Whenever I co to this point, I feel they might think an Arican rich man's attempt to save them is an act of charity and pity, and soday they will break through and rebel on their own."
Oliver spread his hands and said, "Whether they drove away truly guided by others, or realized that xicans should determine xico's future, realizing they no longer needed ."
"If it's the latter, I should be happy, but I still feel the anger and sadness of betrayal, which makes wonder, am I really as selfless as I imagine myself to be? Or do I actually enjoy power more and rage when I lose it?"
"Do you think your predecessors never faced such problems?" Natasha's tone finally slowed down, finally showing a kindness matching her age.
"So how did they solve it?"
"In fact, they may have thought about it for a mont, but the fundantal reason you have this problem is that you've eaten too much, and so have the xicans."
This argunt shocked Oliver; he saw Natasha looking straight into his eyes, heard the Slavic woman with a brisk deanor say to him, "The fundantal reason for the October Revolution was that we were about to die, if we didn't completely overthrow [the old system], our race would have been finished."
"To freeze, starve, be killed by invaders, to completely perish as if we never existed—that was our final battle, win and live, lose and die,"
"You might think from reading history books that the backdrop wasn't so severe, but in truth, every revolution from the bottom up is because the vast majority of those at the bottom can't survive anymore,"
Natasha averted her gaze as she spoke.
"You descended from the heavens to save the peasants of xico, not their own organized rebellion, which ans this is not a revolution,"
"They weren't pushed to the brink, not in a fight-or-die situation. They might have been miserable, but they could barely get by. When there's still one al left in their pockets, when the heavy snow will fall tomorrow, people always compromise,"
"You still have the energy to fight amongst yourselves, to pay attention to others, and to indulge in wishful thinking, because you aren't hungry or cold enough. It's the Aricas' unique conditions that prevent you from being driven into a corner so easily,"
"The thods they've used on you have also been used on us, but if you had been to Stalingrad, Minsk, or even the mildest Moscow, you would understand why so many who arrive here could not stray into leisure, must imdiately commit themselves to production and labor, because we have nothing to eat, and by evening heavy snow might fall,"
"Labor can transform a person. When you're in a harsh environnt, desperately carving out a path to survive for yourself, you'll realize that the tasks that brought you here and the not-so-pure intentions are not the right answers for the continuation of the human race. The answer lies with us, in the grains of wheat unearthed from permafrost and in the footsteps hidden by heavy snow,"
"If one witnessed all this, he is very likely to abandon everything and enter the furnace of humanity's greatest solidarity miracle, realizing that contributing to this roaring fire makes him truly alive, like a real person,"
"If they're not hungry enough, not cold enough, not yet scrabbling for scraps or huddling together for warmth, then even if you could go back, lead them again, the tragedy would only recur over and over,"
"But if it gets to that point, many will die," Oliver took a deep breath, his tone almost a sob, clearly the vivid scenes Natasha described replaying over and over in his mind, as he tried to drive the imagined tragedies he could conjure up that had occurred on that cold land out of his head.
"We want to take the initiative, save as many people as possible before things deteriorate so badly, that is our mission,"
"But that is how humans are," Natasha said flatly, showing no anger at such an intense tone—she seed used to it—"Only when they must unite, do they really co together. All other education, persuasion, and warnings are useless,"
For the first ti, Oliver showed a truly despairing expression, and said through clenched teeth, "You an I sit here watching things get worse step by step, watching innocent people die, doing nothing until they awaken on their own?"
"If they don't awaken themselves, whatever you do is useless,"
Oliver clenched his fists, blood seeping from his palms where the nails had dug in, unnoticed, as Natasha again spoke in a slower tone, "You know, the fla can only be ignited by themselves, but what you've done is not aningless,"
"When they truly are cornered and begin to awaken, they will realize the path you've taken is right. Those whom you have inspired will beco the guiding sparks when another great fire first ignites,"
"Trust , you've done enough for them, and with such extensive groundwork laid, this blaze is destined to be bigger and brighter than the one at Peter, it might even burn to the end, becoming a miracle to be rembered in the history of human civilization,"
"And those who die..." Oliver sighed heavily.
"Will beco the painful history that this nation must rember. Along with you, Arican Oliver Queen, they will be written into the history books of xico, receiving the sa praise and criticism, and summarized as part of the sa era,"
Oliver's hands loosened.
"If later generations are to sing praises to a hero of this era, then I hope that hero is a xican," Oliver's tone finally cald, yet it was filled with another kind of intense emotion.
"He fought for his country and his race, shed blood and tears for his own land, blazed his own trail for a new great nation, and when the dust settled, he could enjoy his rightful honor without any guilt or regret, his legacy sealed and his glory everlasting,"
"And I am just a spark in the early path, initially guiding their way, and then, if unnecessary, becoming one of the embers of a roaring fire, embers that can drift a thousand miles with the wind, adding but a stroke of ink to history books, offering an insignificant strength to enlighten the people of a new land and their nascent heroes,"
"To help the awakening, still suffering from hunger and cold, find their path sooner," Natasha said.
"Or at least to give them a bit more courage," Oliver added, "For those inspired, not of their race, from other nations, to cast aside their reservations, to set an example,"
The light in Oliver's eyes grew brighter.
"Then, in every place untouched by God, when people feel cold and hungry, they no longer wait, they keep themselves warm, they cook to fill their belly, they take up arms, they follow in the footsteps of their predecessors, they make everything belong to the laborers, so they no longer say 'long live the hero'..."
Oliver and Natasha exchanged glances.
"But say 'long live the laborer'."
"But say 'long live the people'."
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