CHAPTER 534: TO FORGET IS TO SURVIVE

Darcy sat stiffly in the chair beside the hospital bed, his elbows resting on his knees and fingers knotted together. On the bed, Micah lay motionless, his face almost peaceful, though faint dark circles betrayed his lack of sleep. The faint rise and fall of his chest was the only proof that he was merely asleep.

Darcy turned his head toward Clyde, who was sitting on the opposite side of the bed, his posture straight and expression unreadable.

Darcy hesitated, then finally spoke, his voice low. "What about you? When did you remember?"

Clyde’s eyes flickered toward him, then away. "It was right after Micah left for the south," he said, his tone even. "When they decided to tell you the truth."

Darcy’s brows furrowed. "So... it wasn’t that long ago, huh?"

"No."

Darcy went quiet for a moment, his gaze falling back on Micah. "Do you think..." he started, his voice catching slightly. "Do you think Micah also remembers? Is that why he came to find me earlier?"

"I’m not sure," Clyde replied, clasping his hands together. "I know he’s had dreams about the past. That’s how he knew about the switch. But," His gaze softened, and for a brief moment, something like pain flashed in his eyes. "I’d rather he doesn’t recall it at all."

Darcy blinked, startled. "Why though? Wouldn’t it be better if he did? At least then he could protect himself."

Clyde’s jaw tightened. "No," he said quietly. "You don’t understand." He took a deep breath, then continued. "I think his mind built a wall, a defence mechanism against all those awful memories. The things he went through back then probably weren’t pleasant."

"What do you mean?" Darcy asked, confusion written across his face.

Clyde reached out and clasped Micah’s hand. "When you got sick," he said, his tone softer now, "he completely lost control. I couldn’t even calm him down. It was like he was trapped inside those memories, shaking, gasping, screaming your name. And then a few hours later, it was like nothing had happened. He forgot all of it. Everything."

Darcy stared at him, stunned. "Forgot?"

"Yeah," Clyde said, brushing his finger on Micah’s knuckles. "So... if he asks about why he is here, just tell him he fainted from exhaustion. I am sure he will not remember what you said earlier."

Darcy’s brows knitted together. "Do you think it’s a good idea?"

Clyde’s head snapped toward him, eyes sharp. "You didn’t see him. You didn’t see how broken he was. How desperate." His voice grew strained, and he looked away. "I can’t watch that happen a second time. He’s had panic attacks even before remembering anything. If he fully recalls everything this time..." He turned back, eyes hard. "Can you guarantee he won’t lose his mind?"

Darcy’s lips parted, but no words came out. He swallowed hard and finally shook his head. "No..."

"Then don’t tell him," Clyde said firmly. "You owe him this much."

The room fell silent again. Darcy looked down at his hands, knuckles pale.

"How did you cope with it? Back then, I mean," Darcy asked, looking at the composed man. "When I woke up that day, all I could think of was getting revenge. Making them pay for everything. I wanted to destroy everything that reminded me of that unfairness..." He laughed weakly under his breath. "But you... You seem calm. Like it didn’t affect you at all."

Clyde smiled faintly and bitterly. "I don’t remember everything," he admitted. "In fact, a lot of it is blurry. Maybe that’s why I can still act calm."

"You sure it’s okay telling me that?" Darcy asked softly. "What if I used it against you? Lied about the past?"

Clyde shook his head. "No, you wouldn’t. Micah would never let you go astray."

"Yeah, you are right." Darcy chuckled, then leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "Anyway, what do you think all this is? Some kind of second life? Or did God actually decide to give us another shot?"

Something flickered in Clyde’s expression for a second. After countless lives, his belief had shaken to the core. "The important thing is that we are alive."

"Yeah...." Darcy’s voice dropped to a murmur. "Coming back to when nothing had happened... It’s kind of a blessing, isn’t it?" He smiled faintly, but his eyes stayed distant. "At first, I thought it was all a dream. Like my mind made it up because I couldn’t handle the truth. When Micah told me he went scuba diving, I remembered... Aria once said he had a phobia of water after nearly drowning. So I followed him." He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn’t even think I was reborn. I thought I’d somehow fallen into a parallel world or something. Everything was different."

Clyde didn’t interrupt his rambling. He had experienced the pain of being the only one who knew this world was just a book. Darcy probably wasn’t able to talk to anybody about it either. He could at least lend him an ear.

"But when I saw him drowning," Darcy continued, his voice low and trembling. "And the way Ramsy’s family treated me...it all came back. The pain, the betrayal, everything." His fists clenched tightly. "That’s when I started believing it. That maybe this really is a second life. So I tried to steer clear of those people who had ruined my life. But now, after remembering how I died..." He took a shaky breath. "I can’t sit still and let them use me again."

The conviction in his tone left no room for doubt.

Darcy turned his gaze toward Micah, his eyes burning with a quiet resolve. "I’m going to protect him," he said, each word deliberate. "Micah, my family and myself, none of us will be hurt again. I don’t care if you help me or not. I won’t repeat the same mistake."

Clyde didn’t respond right away. He sat still, watching Darcy’s expression, the way his jaw tightened and his eyes gleamed with determination. For a long while, neither spoke.

He thought back to what he knew: the image of Darcy in the warehouse from the first life, broken and desperate, the resentment he carried, and still... he had saved Micah without hesitation. Even now, after remembering everything, Darcy didn’t treat Micah with hatred.

Clyde exhaled slowly. "Fine. I’ll give you one last chance," he said at last.

*******

Micah stirred. His fingers twitched against the bed sheet, his lashes fluttering slightly before settling again. His breathing deepened, the slow rhythm changing without anyone noticing. Neither Darcy nor Clyde realised he was awake.

The muffled sound of their voices reached him through the haze of drowsiness.

He didn’t move.

Darcy’s voice came first, soft, determined, trembling with something heavy. "I’m going to protect Micah, my family, and myself from them. I don’t care if you help me or not."

Then Clyde’s quieter reply. "Fine. I’ll give you one last chance."

Micah’s mind raced. Darcy’s words and Clyde’s uneasy tone came rushing back to his mind.

So, he wasn’t the only one, he realised. The world hadn’t just reached out to him; it had reached others, too. Right, Grandpa Lin had also said something similar. The universe had tried again and again to change fate. Did that mean he failed the mission?

His pulse quickened. Darcy claimed it was the word Lobart that triggered those flashes. So it was still because of him. Without him bringing it up, Darcy might never have remembered that the universe had tried to show him the future.

But why was the story different? Should he believe this world was not a novel after all? Or was it one of those stories with multiple endings? Different routes, different consequences? Right, he had heard about it. There were novels like that. Maybe he had only seen one ending.

If so, did it mean that one of them, he or Flora, still had to die?

Then what if the other things might happen too? Like Darcy and Clyde might die?

His stomach clenched at the thought. No, no... that would be illogical. Darcy was supposed to be the protagonist... but what if it was a possibility?

A chill ran down his spine at the thought. His head began to throb, pain radiating through his temples. He groaned involuntarily.

The sound made both Darcy and Clyde jolt.

"Micah?" Clyde shot to his feet, moving closer. His hand reached toward Micah’s shoulder. "What is it? Are you in pain?"

"Should I call the doctor?" Darcy asked quickly, half rising from his seat.

Micah forced his eyes open, blinking against the harsh light. "No..." he muttered, his voice rough. "It is not serious."

He tried to sit up, wincing as a faint ache ran through his head. "What happened?" he asked, blinking between them. His expression was neutral, almost blank. But his mind was already spinning.

He was waiting for them to bring up the matter. He had already spoken bits and pieces of what he knew to Clyde. Now, he needed to compare it to Darcy’s version again.

But the answer he got made his heart sink.