Phaethon suddenly reached out, using all his strength to desperately push Cyrene away from him!
"Sister Cyrene! Don’t co near! Get away!!!" He tried to roar, but his voice was twisted by imnse fear.
But it was already too late.
A gentle, yet incredibly determined, almost farewell-like smile appeared on Cyrene’s face.
Instead of being pushed away, she used all her strength to instead tightly, desperately... grab hold of the hand Phaethon was using to push her away!
...
To be honest, before this, Phainon’s mind had been thinking about exactly what thod Cyrene planned to use to shake Phaethon’s already deep-rooted beliefs, bound to over thirty million recurrences, and get him to restart the calculation about the "Pri Mover of Life"?
It wasn’t until Cyrene calmly asked Phaethon that question pointing directly to the origin that Phainon suddenly completely understood Cyrene’s plan!
He perceived the core of Cyrene’s seemingly gentle, yet in reality incredibly determined, even cruel plan!
Previously, Phaethon had been observing and calculating by ensuring the people of Amphoreus could struggle to "survive" through the apocalypse in each recurrence, and ultimately arrived at the cold answer that "the Pri Mover of Life is ’Preservation’."
In essence, this was a logical loop ford by using the predetermined answer of "Preservation" to reversely screen and define the entire calculation process.
So, how to break this loop? How to restart this calculation imprisoned by the answer?
The thod was cruel and direct—
Make Phaethon witness with his own eyes, feel with his own being, the very paleness, powerlessness, and incompleteness of that ultimate answer called "Preservation"!
Cyrene wanted to prove to him that what drives life to make choices, what drives the soul to erupt with power... is far more than just the biological instinct of "Preservation"!
There were other things driving life forward!
Cyrene wanted those things to also beco part of Phaethon’s answer!
Phainon believed in Cyrene; she was never soone who would be swayed by impulse.
She must know better than anyone that if Phaethon truly completely lost control due to her ’passing’, what a terrifying existence he would beco.
She must... have her own deeper plans and arrangents. We must believe in her.
So... what he needed to do was simple: use his own power, his own will, to assist Cyrene with all his might!
"May the hatred born of ’Destruction’ burn away the confusion and stubbornness in your heart!"
Phainon’s voice was low and hoarse, as if every word was stained with blood and fire. He tightly gripped the Dawnmaker in his hand, and the blade began to hum.
"May the love born of ’Rembrance’ guide you to find the true answer belonging to Amphoreus!" His gaze fell upon Phaethon and Cyrene.
Puchi—
A slight but extrely clear sound of a blade piercing flesh rang out.
That Dawnmaker, which had shattered countless dark tides and symbolized ’Destruction’, now pierced into Phaethon’s right back.
But this wasn’t the end. The edge of Dawnmaker, carrying the heat of destruction and the cold of rembrance, precisely... pierced through the heart of Cyrene, who was clinging tightly to Phaethon.
At this mont—
Through the strange "bridge" of Dawnmaker’s blade, Phaethon’s body clearly perceived that within his chest, two hearts were beating in completely different rhythms!
One was his own, nearly exploding from shock, fear, and overwhelming grief!
The other was Cyrene’s, beating very faintly, yet carrying a strange calmness, like a warm tide.
"No... No—!!!!"
Phaethon let out an inhuman roar!
Like a trapped, desperate beast, he crazily, using all the strength in his body, tried to push Cyrene in his arms away from him!
A surge of intense emotion, powerful enough to drown stars, churned and roared in his chest, rushing upward uncontrollably, until it breached all his defenses and completely flooded his eye sockets—
Golden, warm tears, like lted amber, fell from his eyes for the first ti, in large, large drops.
"Hee..."
But Cyrene in his arms let out a very slight laugh, filled with satisfaction and tenderness.
She raised a trembling hand, gently stroking Phaethon’s tear-streaked cheek, but her fingertips touched the tiny, brilliant amber crystals into which those tears had instantly condensed.
"Little Phaethon... from childhood to now, your sister Cyrene... has never seen you shed a single tear..." Her voice was faint as a breath, yet filled with endless tenderness,
"So... you really can cry... Look, the amber they condensed into... how beautiful it is... how... warm it is..."
"Don’t talk... please don’t talk anymore..." Phaethon’s voice was shattered, his tears even more violent, never had he felt more like a fragile child than at this mont.
He realized that even if the cycle restarted, Cyrene would not appear in the next one.
"Oh dear... don’t cry anymore, little Phaethon..." Cyrene’s breath grew weaker and weaker, as if she might dissipate in the wind at any mont, carrying a relief and tenderness that had traversed all cycles,
"I’ve already escaped from your heart... thirty million tis... but this ti... I won’t escape..."
Her body began to feel light, as if about to rge into the light.
"Now... I really... am going to beco a part of you..."
"Honestly, I told you... don’t cry anymore..."
"If I’m not mistaken... we won’t really part... deep in your mory... we should... be able to et again... and then... let help you solve the Pri Mover of Life..."
Cyrene seed to be still trying to say sothing more, wanting to leave a final comfort.
But Phaethon could no longer hear a single word.
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