[The Golden Hour]
Mr. Yang and Acheron were still talking after moving to another place.
"Even after such a shocking tragedy, this sweet dream is still operating in such an orderly manner." Looking at the prosperous cityscape of the dream before him, Mr. Yang seemed somewhat moved.
"Apart from the Family of the Harmony, it's hard to imagine what other force in the universe could maintain such a huge structure."
"The Family itself is also a huge, perfect structure, like... a living god statue." Acheron said, "Every member of the Family sees themselves as a piece of the divine body, revolving around the sole core (the Aeon), the shared ideal (the Harmony), faithfully performing their own duties and devoting themselves under Its command, while also being nourished by It."
"An interesting metaphor. Perhaps this is the fundamental reason Penacony's sweet dream has been able to endure for so long," Mr. Yang said.
"But the human body has its limits, and so does a divine body."
"That doesn't sound like a comment from a Galaxy Ranger."
"I'm only pointing out a fact. Mr. Welt, surely you can understand its meaning better than I can."
"Why do you say that, Miss Acheron?" Mr. Yang looked at Acheron.
"The sweet dream is collapsing, but not because of some Aeon, some faction, or some specific guest. Its collapse comes from an inevitability of human nature. The Family is unwilling to admit this, yet it has unknowingly become a catalyst..."
Acheron quietly looked at the sweet dream created by the Family and spoke in a calm tone.
"When people allow their minds to sink into dreams that require no price, contain no pain, and offer only comfort and pleasure, they draw closer and closer to decay. No matter what kind of paradise they believe themselves to be living in, death is an unchangeable ending."
"And this decay will spread and expand. The mutation of a single piece of the puzzle will eventually cause the entire structure to shake, shatter... collapse."
"In the end, the sweet dream people built for freedom will become a prison that confines themselves."
Mr. Yang let out a slightly melancholy sigh before continuing.
"I imagine you've gained quite a lot from this trip, Miss Acheron. Would you be willing to share it with me?"
"Of course... provided I still remember." Acheron nodded.
As she said this, Acheron placed her hand on the sword guard, but only for a brief moment. She then lowered her hand again.
Mr. Yang noticed this and frowned slightly, a trace of confusion appearing in his eyes.
"Don't mind it. It's just a habit," Acheron said. "Because of some things in the past, I've become very prone to... forgetting. Only when this sword is drawn do those hazy scenes gradually become clear."
"Take your time."
"That's enough. I remember what happened in Penacony very clearly. Please ask."
Afterward, under Mr. Yang's questions, Acheron briefly recounted what she had seen and heard in the various dreams of Penacony.
In every bizarre yet prosperous dream, beautiful as a song, and in every person she encountered who remained in the dream, every individual she met ultimately left behind not happiness as the underlying tone of the sweet dream, but a lingering regret that refused to disperse, viscous like the dried grease inside a range hood.
Even within the sweet dream woven by the Family, happiness was still fleeting, and passion was difficult to sustain. Amid the numbness of day after day, it seemed that only deeper regret ran through it all.
After slowly finishing her account, the two remained silent for a while.
After exhaling, Acheron spoke again, "Someone once told me this: Penacony was not like this long ago, and Penacony should not be like this."
"I walked through both the reality and dreams of the Planet of Festivities, watching night rise and fall. Time stopped for people, while spiritual wealth and poverty... also remained forever at their respective marks."
"So I believe the collapse of the sweet dream is inevitable."
"Perhaps there is a way to change all this," Mr. Yang said.
"Perhaps. But if this is the world people truly wish for, if this is the reason life chooses to sleep, should we still make it change?"
"..." Mr. Yang was silent for a moment. "Miss Acheron, let me tell you a story instead."
"In my homeland, there was a man. When the world was faced with a wound that could not be healed, he made a decision."
"He wove everyone's dreams in the world together, linked people's dreams to one another, and then took them upon himself. Through this, he created a giant, a 'Spiritual Adam.'"
"From then on, that giant stood between heaven and earth and became the pillar supporting the survival of the entire world. As the price, those who found it difficult to move forward, those who could not move forward... would lose their future forever."
"They slept in a dream without disaster or suffering, spending peaceful lives in the utopia created by that man. And the 'Spiritual Adam' became unbreakable because of these people's wish to remain asleep."
"But now you are standing here, which means... that man failed," Acheron said.
"Because people must always move toward the future. Even if the weaknesses of human nature make them stop, when they truly can no longer move forward... humanity will certainly try to save itself."
"And that man... he was never a failure. Like every person in that world, he kept the possibilities of human nature in his heart."
"He was the Sun Chaser of myth (Icarus), flying toward the heavens and welcoming his final victory through his fall."
"He rose higher and higher, only to reach the sun. It was a place no one had ever reached before. He would melt because of it and fall into the sea, and after that..."
"Countless people would cross over his body and fly into an even higher sky."
As Mr. Yang spoke, the serious look in his eyes gradually softened.
"...It fits the Trailblazing spirit of the Nameless very well," Acheron said.
"Thank you, Mr. Welt. I know what you want to confirm. There are countless worlds in the universe that are similar yet different. Within these worlds, there are also countless people who are similar yet different."
"I have also traveled, encountering familiar people with similar appearances in different worlds and watching their fates follow paths that seemed familiar. So I will tell you..."
"Although they are not completely the same, the story you described... overlaps with my past. And in that bottomless dream..."
"I ended that man's life, alone."
Listening to this similar yet different person before him, Mr. Yang's gaze darkened slightly, and he fell silent with a soft sigh.
"I'm not the person you know, and my homeland was not as fortunate as your world."
"...I'm sorry."
"It's fine. If this can dispel your doubts, I don't mind."
"But I still want to know. Beneath the appearance of a Galaxy Ranger, Miss Acheron, what kind of force is driving you to walk alone until now?"
Acheron fell silent. "...Mr. Welt, before answering that question, I'd like to continue the topic from before."
"I like your metaphor very much. Indeed, birds are born knowing how to fly, but in the distant past, their ancestors could only look up at the sky from the ground."
"They saw the distant light from beyond the heavens pierce through the clouds and shine upon the earth. So, again and again, generation after generation, the birds spread their wings and flew high, trying to touch the top of the sky, simply because the sun was there."
"Then, if the last bird finally flies into the heavens, only to discover that at the end of the light there is not the sun, but a black sun (a black hole that devours everything)..."
"Then what exactly are we... moving toward the light for?"
———
[The Reverie Hotel, Reality]
The guest room was filled with warm colors. Even though the sweet dream concealed a coldness and eeriness completely opposite to this, the flames in the fireplace danced, vaguely resembling claws reaching upward, or perhaps they really were the claws of some sinister creature.
Black Swan could clearly see that what had been lit beneath the fireplace wasn't firewood at all, but an Ignis-type creation, a creature from the Fragmentum.
There was no doubt that this should be a product from Aha's Fragmentum factory. Penacony had only recently purchased a large batch of goods from that factory, and it seemed they had already been put to use.
After hesitating for a long time, Black Swan finally answered the phone that had been ringing continuously in the room.
A man's voice soon came from the other end, sounding bold and uninhibited. "Long time no see! Having fun in Penacony, Acheron?"
It sounded like a greeting, but judging from his tone, there also seemed to be quite a bit of an accusatory edge to it.
Black Swan frowned slightly and began thinking about the identity of the person on the other end.
The voice continued, "Although I don't know what the hell you are, or what you're plotting..."
"But my bullets will find you soon. Before that, you'd better hurry up and find a coffin shop in Penacony and have the owner save a good-quality one for yourself, fake."
Hearing the second sentence, Black Swan roughly understood what was going on.
Perhaps that Constance had used some means to leak certain information to another person who was tracking Acheron.
Judging from his tone and words, this man was probably a genuine Galaxy Ranger...
"Who are you?" Black Swan asked.
The man on the other end seemed to hesitate for a moment, but he clearly wasn't a polite person.
"Huh? Did I dial the wrong number? What the hell, who are you?"
Fortunately, Miss Memokeeper was very well-mannered and still replied calmly. "I am a Memokeeper of the Garden of Recollection."
"Whoa! Not bad. I like tough ones like you. Are you that fake's bodyguard? Or someone else? Forget it, doesn't matter. I'll save a bullet for you too. Wash your forehead clean and wait."
Even Miss Memokeeper, who was extremely well-mannered, had no choice but to fall silent this time.
She finally realized something. The uncivilized man on the other end wasn't merely uncivilized. He was also extremely self-willed.
"I don't know what you're talking about, but you know Acheron, that Galaxy Ranger, right? I have something to ask you."
"Hahaha, want me to write your will for you? Sure, go ahead."
"It's not a will. I only want to ask how exactly she became a Galaxy Ranger. She isn't a Pathstrider of the Hunt at all. You are, right? Tell me, what exactly is Acheron's background?"
"...Hahahahahaha, sure! I didn't expect you to be an ally. What a stroke of luck. Looks like I've really hit the jackpot."
Black Swan: "..."
'What the hell, this guy changes his face faster than turning a page.'
"I'm about to arrive in Penacony. Memokeeper, go buy a bottle of Asdana White Oak, warm it up, and have a drink with me."
"That woman's past? No one knows. But if all you want is a simple answer, sure. You'd better find a chair to put under yourself first. That woman called Acheron, is an Emanator who 'shouldn't exist.'"
———
[The Golden Hour]
Aventurine held his head. Ever since that Sunday had used some kind of Harmony ability on him, other voices had been buzzing in his head nonstop.
"You look terrible." Dr. Ratio stood before Aventurine. "Or is this also part of your act?"
"I didn't expect you to have the nerve to come see me." Aventurine looked at Ratio as if reprimanding a traitor who had just betrayed him.
"I thought this was the outcome you wanted, after all. I merely did as you said, 'faithfully carried out my duty.'"
The proud professor still spoke with that superior attitude. At this moment, his words sounded like he was mocking someone who couldn't see the situation clearly, but in reality, he wasn't lying.
"If you can't hold out, remember to notify me first," Ratio said.
"The genius of the 'Intelligentsia Guild' is planning to collect my corpse? Oh, my... What an honor."
"Everyone in the Strategic Investment Department must also be very eager to receive news of your death in time. Don't forget, you can never see them again. This task has now fallen to me."
"Sure. Then go report it right now. Tell them, 'Aventurine has made full preparations and can enter the stage in seventeen system hours.'"
"Arrogant. How do you plan to complete the mission while being imprisoned by the Harmony?"
"My conversation with Sunday convinced me that there is a traitor within the Family, and that person holds Penacony's secret... Taking this opportunity, I also put all the Cornerstones where they should be."
"And now I've even successfully taken back the gift money. Things haven't gone this smoothly since I stepped through the doors of the Reverie Hotel... Just watch. I'm only one step away from victory."
"Sounds like you simply repeated your miserable state, only in an extremely stubborn way."
"That's all I can say. Did you forget? You've already betrayed me, Professor. Go where you need to go. I can't wait to see what Penacony looks like surrounded by the Company's fleet. You got what you wanted too, didn't you?"
"Indeed. But so what? Did you happen to hide a beacon for calling in near-Earth-orbit support in that bag of gift money?"
"Maybe. Perhaps that's why I'm still thinking about giving money away even when I'm about to die." Aventurine laughed.
Ratio frowned. "...You've completely lost your mind, damn gambler. Such a straightforward approach is clearly that child's way of thinking."
But Aventurine merely raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I went crazy a long time ago. Who knows?"
"..." Ratio silently looked at Aventurine. In the end, he chuckled twice and handed something to him. "Forget it. Take this. Open it when you're about to die. You'll thank me."
"What the hell is this... medical instructions?" Aventurine looked at the uniquely shaped "capsule" in his hand.
But when he looked up again, Ratio was already gone. Yet a voice still entered his mind, in the form of some piece of knowledge that had been recorded in his memory.
"Let me give you one last piece of good news, information-restricted person. The child still hasn't been found, but we can already confirm that he's safe.
"The message came from the Nameless called Stelle. The source of the information was Argenti. According to that knight, the child's sword told him this itself."
Aventurine blinked. "Hmm... That's good. Professor."