On the other side, the Express crew and the others.
Phew...
A gentle breeze, like a soft wheat wind, brushed across Stelle’s cheek, bringing with it a strange, mixed scent of grain and sunlight. This fragrance, like a slender feather, gently tickled her heart, dispelling the last trace of confusion before her consciousness had sunk away.
Stelle slowly opened her eyes.
The scene that greeted her left a first impression of nearly unreal tranquility.
The breeze, like an invisible hand, repeatedly caressed the boundless wheat field, pressing down the heavy ears of wheat, stirring up wave after wave.
A soft sun, carrying a hint of laziness, hung high in the sky. Its light spilled onto her, warm and cozy, driving away the cold and suffocation brought on by witnessing the amber world.
In the distance, an ancient windmill slowly turned its huge blades. At the edge of the sky, a few fluffy white clouds, as if frozen, drifted slowly at a pace imperceptible to the naked eye.
Here, even ti seed infected by this serene atmosphere, its flow becoming exceptionally slow.
This endless golden wheat field before her eyes exuded a strange magic, like a warm and safe haven, instinctively making one want to hide deep within it.
As if, by curling up in the depths of these wheat waves, neither strict teachers from school nor the worries and responsibilities that needed facing could ever find you again.
"Stelle."
A familiar and steady call pulled her back from this montary daze.
It was Dan Heng.
Stelle looked around and soon spotted her companions from the Astral Express nearby—Mr. Welt, Dan Heng, and the two geniuses’ holographic projections: The Herta and Screwllum. Only... why was Evernight, the one who had brought them here, nowhere to be seen?
"What’s... going on? Where’s Evernight?" Stelle scratched her head in confusion, trying to sort out her thoughts. "And, weren’t we supposed to be at the Vortex of Genesis? How did we suddenly... end up in this wheat field?"
"Not clear." Dan Heng shook his head, maintaining his usual vigilance in his eyes.
"That mokeeper disappeared after bringing us into this space. Prepare for the worst, Stelle. This might be a carefully laid trap, its purpose being to trap us here."
He was always so reliable, even while enjoying a mont of peace, never stopping to consider the worst possibilities and remind his companions.
Stelle followed Dan Heng as they walked towards the others.
As soon as she got close, she heard The Herta, arms crossed, presenting her deductions:
"The spatial structure here, the material composition, even the particle feedback of the light and sll—all have obvious ’moria’ characteristics, but its stability and richness of detail far exceed ordinary mory fragnts... This should be a highly stable mory world with a certain capacity for independent evolution."
She reached her conclusion, then waved her hand with slight impatience, speaking to the Express crew: "Just standing here won’t analyze anything more. Take a walk around, use your Naless instinct to ’Trailblaze’ the unknown. Don’t act like tourists who’ve never seen anything."
So, the group began to move cautiously through the waist-high golden wheat field. The wheat ears rubbed against their clothes, making a relaxing rustling sound.
"Careful!"
Suddenly, Welt, walking in front, suddenly raised his arm, blocking those behind him.
The gaze behind his lenses instantly beca incredibly sharp, his body slightly tense, because he had once again seen that face which left such a deep impression on him.
Although, this face now looked incredibly young, completely lacking the coldness and power of "Khaslana," possessing only the unique innocence of youth.
Welt’s hand silently tightened around the Star of Eden, his knuckles slightly pale from the force.
His mind raced, assessing various possibilities. If that young man showed any dangerous movent...
Stelle followed Welt’s alert gaze, curiosity driving her to step forward a few paces.
Then, she saw that young man was leisurely lying in the wheat field, and lying beside him, another young man with equally young features, sharing seventy to eighty percent similarity in their brows and eyes... was Phainon?!
"Hmm?"
The young Phaethon in the wheat field seed to notice the stare from the unfamiliar direction. His eyes, originally gazing at the sky, slightly moved, his glance shifting towards where the Express crew stood.
His eyes were clear, Stelle saw no hostility in them.
"What’s wrong? Phaethon?" His brother, lying beside him, noticed his brother’s slight movent, slightly propped himself up, inquiring. His voice also carried the clarity of youth.
"Nothing," Phaethon withdrew his gaze, looking back at the blue sky, his tone relaxed, "Just... it seems soone is coming."
As his voice faded, a light and pleasant voice, like a mountain spring, traveled from far to near:
"Two Little Snowy——! You’re hiding in the wheat field slacking off together again! ♪"
Accompanying the voice, a slender figure gracefully crossed through the wheat field, appearing in everyone’s view.
It was Cyrene!
Her appearance was also much more lively than when they had seen her before, her face radiant with a warm smile, free of any shadows.
Only... astonishingly, she seed completely unaware of the several "living people" standing right there in the wheat field nearby, their clothing so out of place with the surroundings.
Her gaze directly fell on Phaethon and Phainon lying in the wheat field, as if the Express crew were transparent.
Cyrene ran to their side, pressing her hands on her knees, half-kneeling down, with a urging tone carrying a hint of playfulness, speaking to the two "Snowy" lying down:
"Get up quickly, co with to draw Oracle Cards... maybe we’ll draw a few good ones today!"
Phainon’s face showed so helplessness, but he obediently patted the grass clippings off himself, preparing to get up.
However, this ti, Phaethon did not imdiately rise like his brother. Instead, as if being playful, he continued to lie in the soft wheat field, even comfortably rubbing his back,
"No way, Sister Cyrene, let lie here just a little longer, just a little... You go ahead, I promise I’ll catch up with you later, okay?"
His voice was filled with the warmth of sunshine, carrying the unique, lazy, playful tone of youth.
Completely impossible to tell that this lazy young man, in the distant future, would beco an obsessed person, endlessly repeating the cold idea of "Preservation."
Cyrene looked at the playful Phaethon, sowhat helpless, yet with a hint of doting, shaking her head. She reached out and gently tapped his forehead,
"You... Phaethon, I just don’t know what to do with you. Oh, fine, fine, let you slack off a bit longer. But rember, co early! If you’re late, don’t bla your Sister Cyrene for being stingy and not giving you any pretzels to eat!"
"I know, I know——" Phaethon dragged out his response, his tone full of relaxation and comfort, as if the sky falling wouldn’t be as important as rolling around in the wheat field right now.
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