"Ugh, Dad learning to play the flute properly is slower than a butterfly crossing the ocean."
"...Dad will practice hard," the voice from the memory replied.
A voice that only existed within memories. A voice that could only be heard in the echoes of the past.
"Donât worry, Dad. Everyoneâs clumsy at something."
"Youâve grown up more than I thought, my little girl," the voice said fondly.
The exchange was a relic of the past, a conversation long since transformed into a cherished memoryâone that could no longer continue.
"Still, someday you have to play this song for me, okay? This one, âOcean Butterfly.â"
"I promise."
It was a promise made so long ago that even remembering when it happened was impossible. A promise forgotten, one thought never to be fulfilled.
And yet.
"â©âªâ¬âââ"
Through the blaring cacophony of warning sirens, the faint, clumsy sound of a flute pierced the air. It was so vivid, so clear, that it couldnât be ignored, even if there was no longer any certainty left to grasp.
"...Iâm sorry. I made you wait far too long."
Those words, laced with genuine feeling, slipped through the rigid mechanical tone of the voice. And in that moment, their gaze finally met.
Rising from where they had collapsed helplessly, the figure leaned forward, stepping into that cold, unyielding embrace.
The reunion of the player and Il-hong filled the broadcast screen with a poignant illustration. The frozen cursor, stuck motionless for what felt like an eternity, mirrored the gravity of the moment.
Beyond the soft background music, all that could be heard was the ragged breathing and faint sobs of the two figures on screen. Il-hongâs tearful voice, muffled as she wept into the playerâs chest, drowned out even the flood of donation messages pouring in.
"â¦Ugh⦠Huuuuhâ¦"
"ððððð"
"This scene is such an emotional cheat code. ðððð"
"Wait, are they really crying?"
"DIAH IS CRYING ððð"
"God, Ocean Butterfly always hits so hard, no matter how many times you see it."
"Legit tears?"
"This feels like real emotion, not forced."
"How long has it been since weâve seen real crying?"
[User ë°±ì¤ì° has donated â©10,000!]
This scene always makes me cry. ððð
[User ê°ë¥´ìê·¸ has donated â©10,000!]
Diahâs tears just broke my heart. ððð
[User ìì°ì¼ has donated â©10,000!]
Seeing someone who never cries start to weepâitâs even more heartbreaking.
The chat and donation feeds were livelier than ever, and the viewer count had surged exponentially.
Though Ocean Butterfly had been out for years, its reputation remained untarnished, and its reach was still formidable. Viewers flooded in from every corner of the web, drawn by the promise of witnessing the gameâs iconic, heart-wrenching ending in real time.
And then, there was the streamerâs unfiltered, raw sobbingâa rare and deeply genuine moment being broadcast to the world.
The phenomenon only accelerated as viewers shared clips across social media, turning the moment viral. It all culminated in Diah reaching a monumental milestone: surpassing 10,000 concurrent viewers.
However.
"Canât we just... run away? Please!" Il-hong begged.
"Iâm sorry," the player replied.
"No, no, I canât live without you anymore! Whatâs the point of life without the ones you love?!"
In this moment, nothing else mattered but Il-hong and the player. A daughter and a father on the verge of yet another farewell.
It had been revealed that the player was not human but a humanoid robotâa being that embodied the ultimate taboo, a machine instilled with a consciousness.
The sinking of was a direct consequence of the playerâs existence. If they were exposed, everyone connected to them would be arrested without exception.
The true culprits behind the playerâs death and the creators of the illegal "Daydream" models were none other than the rulers of .
To cover their tracks, they intended to submerge the entire city into the ocean, erasing all evidence of their crimes.
For the sake of a few corrupt individuals, the entirety of âits residents includedâwas sinking beneath the waves.
"Il-hong," the player began.
"Stop! Donât say anything. I wonât listen. Just live. Please," she pleaded.
One of them had to stay behind in the cityâs control room to activate the anti-gravity protocol and prevent the city from sinking completely.
There was no option for both of them to survive.
"You know how much I love you, right?"
The player, who had already died once, could not allow their daughter to face any more danger because of them.
Il-hong, who had only just reunited with her father, could not bear the thought of losing him again.
Neither wanted the other to sacrifice themselves.
But time was running out.
"Remember me. Remember what I meant in your life. Thatâs enough."
âStep.
"Iâll be watching over you."
The player made their decision, and the goodbye they dreaded was carried out.
Steps that could not be controlled.
A sacrifice that could not be stopped.
All that remained was to watch.
All that remained was to endure the unbearable.
Through tear-filled eyes, Il-hong could only watch as the father she had waited so long to see once again faded into the distance.
The parent Ha-eun had wished for her entire lifeâa parent who loved their child more than anythingâvanished.
What was left behind was Il-hong, a girl the same age as Ha-eun.
ââ¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â
Having long wished for a parent, Ha-eun understood the immense weight of their presence. And having finally witnessed one, she also understood the depth of the loss.
[It was good.]
"?"
"Why are you so quiet, DiahDiah?"
"Was it that emotional? ððð"
"Ocean Butterfly is truly a masterpiece."
Instead of speaking, Diah communicated through a notepad, the silence allowing her to keep some semblance of composure.
[Yeah. Itâs a well-made game.]
While typing her impressions, something began to rise on the monitor.
A crude, childlike drawing of the player, sketched by a young Il-hong.
â...Ugh.â
"Oh no, here we go again. ððð"
"There was one last shot left to fire."
"Junjang-nim, noooo! ððð"
"Diahâs crying again. ððð"
"Itâs so heartbreaking, even at the very end."
"Ocean Butterfly (Complete)"
Diah, now overcome once more, typed out her farewell and ended the broadcast.
The chat and donations continued pouring in, but she couldnât bring herself to pay attention anymore. Exhausted, both physically and emotionally, she shut everything down.
After a long time sitting numbly in her chair, Diah finally moved.
Collapsing onto her mattress, she tossed and turned, unable to settle.
Her memories, sharper than usual, replayed vividly, like bubbles briefly rising to the surface before bursting.
All that filled her mind were countless hypothetical scenarios.
Even though she had parents, they hadnât been the kind she needed.
"...Would it have been better to have no memories at all?"
Having already cried her heart out, no more tears came.
That was the only solace she could find.
***
Ding.
[ã ã ë has donated â©1,000!]
Hey, Cream, did you see Diah playing Ocean Butterfly?
"Oh, yes. Sheâs still young, so sheâs very sensitive and emotional."
"Well, being 1-year-old is definitely young. ð"
"Ocean Butterfly really is a masterpiece."
"Then what about Maile, who cried even harder during her second stream?"
"Maile unnie? Thatâs just her being an F by nature."
"Wow, harsh, Cream."
"Cream, are you a T?"
"Alright, Cream, youâre next. You need to play Ocean Butterfly too."
"It looks way too hard for me. Diah made it to the ending, but if I tried, Iâd be up all night and still not finish."
"Thatâs because Diah played on Hero difficulty."
"Oh, right. She did go Hero mode, lol."
"Everyone was so distracted by her crying that we forgot it was on Hero difficulty."
[ã ã ë has donated â©10,000!]
Call Diah and ask if sheâs okay, and Iâll donate â©30,000 more.
"Hmmâ¦"
With such a reasonable mission, streamer Cream (real name Jung Maria) hesitated. She was genuinely worried about Ha-eun, who had been far more emotional than usual throughout the Ocean Butterfly stream and had even struggled to speak by the end.
After a moment of consideration, Maria decided to call Ha-eun. Even a brief chat might help Ha-eun feel a bit better.
However.
âª
âªâ¦click.
The call connected almost instantly, within a single second.
[...Hello?]
"Whoa."
"What??"
"Noonaaaaaaa!!!"
"Holyâ"
"That voice!"
"Iâm dying over here."
"Sheâs killing us with her voice. ð¥"
The voice that came through was entirely different from the usual tone Diah used on her streams.
"D-Diah! Unnieâs live right now!!"
It only took a few seconds for Jung Maria to realize sheâd made a huge mistakeâa colossal, irreversible mistake.
To be fair, having Diah on a live call during her streams wasnât anything new. Theyâd had casual chats about Diahâs streams several times before.
But this time.
[â¦Oh.]@@novelbin@@
"Noonaaaaaaaaaaa!"
"Who IS this??"
"Iâm swooning."
"Her voice is unreal, omg."
"Norae, weâre blushing on your behalf!!!!"
The voice coming through the speakerphone wasnât Diahâs usual cheery tone. It was Ha-eunâs true voiceâlow and husky from her strained throat.
And it was the first time her audience had ever heard it.
The contrast was striking, making the moment even more memorable.