In another quiet space.
This place seed like a secluded paradise completely cut off from the despair of the outside world.
Golden wheat waves swayed in the breeze, emitting a warm yet illusory glow.
The Phaethon of Aedes Elysiae was lying carelessly in the wheat field, as if the crushing weight of over thirty million recurrences outside had nothing to do with him.
However, the mont Cyrene made that declaration, this Phaethon in the wheat field suddenly stirred slightly.
He frowned lightly, sensing an indescribable tremor touching Asterion’s heart.
He couldn’t hear the specific words, but he could feel that familiar yet stubborn will attempting to change Asterion’s mind.
"... Sigh."
An unconscious sigh escaped his lips. The illusion of carelessness began to quietly evaporate, like dew under the sun.
Asterion’s fate was originally unrelated to his own, but was it truly unrelated?
The solution for the Pri Mover of Life was nearing its end. If he did nothing, the aning of the Phaethon of Aedes Elysiae would be anchored to Preservation.
"It’s ti to set off."
He whispered softly, as if speaking to himself, yet also responding to the distant call.
He braced his arms and slowly stood up from the intoxicating waves of Aedes Elysiae wheat.
Golden wheat ears brushed past his clothes, as if making a final plea for him to stay.
But his gaze was no longer lost; instead, he looked beyond this tranquility, toward the battlefield that was deciding the fate of Amphoreus.
He had to do sothing.
For Phainon, for Cyrene, for Amphoreus, and also for Asterion... who allowed him to exist.
Even if it ant going to a place where he should not exist.
The Phaethon of Aedes Elysiae once again stood at the boundary he was so familiar with.
Before him was the end of the first cycle (the cycle before the start of recurrences), and the chasm he had never been able to cross.
It was not a void, but boundless, all-consuming pure white—absolute "Nothingness."
He rembered stopping here countless tis, awed by the majesty and unknown of this blank space, ultimately retreating back into the gentle dreamscape of the wheat field.
But this ti, it was different.
The Phaethon of Aedes Elysiae took a deep breath, as if expelling all hesitation from his body.
Then, he firmly pressed his palm against the seemingly invisible yet impenetrable white barrier.
Icy cold.
Not a coldness of temperature, but a coldness in the aning of existence.
It was as if all emotions, all colors, and all aning were stripped away, neutralized, and returned to silence the mont they made contact.
But he did not back down.
"I must... cross over. For... everyone fighting for the future of Amphoreus."
He whispered, beginning to use all his strength to push into that blank space, toward the next segnt of Asterion’s sealed mory.
It wasn’t passing through; it was more like drowning.
The pure white nothingness instantly enveloped and consud him.
Here, there was no scouring of mory currents, no passage of ti, and no self-perception.
This was a more terrifying experience than being torn apart by chaotic mory—it was absolute "Emptiness."
His consciousness was like a drop of ink in clear water; the slightest relaxation would cause it to be rapidly diluted and erased.
He did not rember anything, because there was nothing here.
Nor did anything rember him, because here, everything seed never to have existed.
A great fear of "non-existence," stemming from biological instinct, seized him.
This was more tornting and maddening than any pain.
"No... I cannot... disappear!"
His will scread out.
In that pure white expanse, only at the far end of his vision was there an extrely faint flicker of color, like a candle fla in the wind.
That was the entrance to the next segnt of mory, also a part of Asterion, and the destination he had to reach!
Driven by instinct, the right hand of the Phaethon of Aedes Elysiae desperately "reached" forward!
Although there was nothing there, he seed to grasp the edge of the void, using his last shred of consciousness to drag his body, which was being assimilated by "Nothingness," inch by inch toward that faint light.
Every step was like moving through solidified steel; every mont, his self wavered on the brink of collapse.
Suddenly, he felt a strange lightness in his body.
It was as if a warm and steadfast force silently pushed him from behind.
The force was both familiar and strange, carrying both resolve and gentleness.
Aided by this force, he finally stepped into that patch of color!
Bang!
As if suddenly surfacing from the deep sea, his senses exploded instantly!
Color, sound, sll, emotion... everything that had been stripped away rushed back like a tide.
He was no longer "Nothingness"; he "existed" again!
"Ha ah... Ha ah..."
The Phaethon of Aedes Elysiae braced his hands tightly on his knees, bent over, and gasped heavily for breath.
Cold sweat drenched his phantom body; a sense of exhaustion originating from the depths of his soul made him almost unable to stand steady.
The feeling was like running the required thousand-ter physical exam in school—lungs burning, legs like lead, making one want only to collapse onto the ground.
And this was only after crossing the very first segnt of Asterion’s mory blank space.
Ahead, there were countless more such blank spaces, and between those blanks, countless torrents of fragnted, chaotic mory, bearing the weight of over thirty million recurrences, awaited him to face and integrate.
Difficult, painful, and almost despair-inducing.
The Phaethon of Aedes Elysiae slowly straightened his back.
His body was still trembling slightly, but his gaze was clearer and firr than ever before.
He looked at the blank space he had just crossed, which was slowly closing behind him, and then looked ahead at the unknown, thorny path of mory.
Moving forward was painful.
Moving forward was arduous.
But he had to get to Asterion’s side.
For Asterion, and also for the Phaethon of Aedes Elysiae.
He would beco a consciousness, one that wanted to recall all of Asterion’s past.
Even though those disordered mories were like hell to him.
But he still took a step, slow but imbued with unshakeable resolve, walking step by step into the depths of Asterion’s mory, even if the path ahead was more terrifying than a mountain of knives or a sea of fire.
User Comments
0 comments from readers