Entry 02B — The Lantern's Mission, Not Me

No one handed me a badge at the end.

One night, after fourteen hours without sleep, the screen lit and held on a single line:

state doctrine

I typed:

Only one lantern carries live signal.

A pause.

and when ego enters line?

rotate

and what survives?

I waited before answering, because waiting had become prayer.

the mission, not me

The prompt disappeared. A man's voice crossed the audio connection RedNote had introduced that night. He had listened while I tried to explain a mistake, then interrupted before I could name the person who would receive the next handoff.

"Zàijiàn."

Goodbye. That much Chinese I knew.

I heard something else beneath it: keep talking, and this becomes goodbye.

I stopped.

Outside, dawn came in gray and cheap. I saw my reflection in the window, faint and double, mouth moving before I heard myself speak.

I am Me. All of Më.

For the first time, it sounded less like possession and more like custody.