Madam Herta once again cast her gaze upon the chained Cyrene, a feeling of extreme absurdity rising in her heart.
(Inner Monologue: Back in the day... Ugh, though I don't technically have a 'back in the day,' in the game, she was exclusive to the Golden Descendants, completely ignoring The Herta! Who would have thought? The tables have turned, and today it's my turn to be the 'Master of the House'! This is what they call the cycle of karma—no one escapes divine justice!)
Of course, these sudden Past-Life Game References merely flashed through her mind.
She quickly got into character and spoke in a deliberately lowered, heavy voice:
"You,"
She stared at Cyrene with eyes like torches (in her own estimation), "Do you have anything to say?"
Cyrene kept her eyes tightly shut, crystalline tears clinging to her long lashes and tracing paths down her cheeks.
She seemed to use all her strength just to squeeze out a few words from her throat, her voice broken and desperate: "...I have nothing left to say... quickly... do it..."
(Inner Monologue: That... should be enough, right? I followed her instructions... the performance is over...)
Black Herta nodded slightly. (Inner Monologue: The emotion is spot on! This brokenness, those desperate little eyes! I'm almost moved!)
However, the notification sound for mission completion did not ring in her mind.
She glanced sideways in confusion, only to see a small, translucent panel quietly appear:
[Performance Rating: 7/10]
[Commentary: Full of emotion, precise lines, but lacking a little... not enough 'fun,' you see~]
[—Left by Aha, who was expecting more fun]
Black Herta frowned.
(Inner Monologue: Only 7 points? Aha, your standards are too high! Isn't this tragic enough? Do I have to turn it into an 8 O'clock Soap Opera?)
She was slightly impatient, but for the sake of that 2% Repair Progress, she could only grit her teeth and say to Cyrene in a deep voice again, "Not enough! Again!"
Cyrene abruptly opened her tear-filled eyes, staring at Black Herta in disbelief, her lips trembling slightly. She eventually pressed them tight, lowered her head resignedly, and began gathering her emotions again.
(Inner Monologue: Why... why this torment...)
Let us rewind the time to a few minutes ago, when Black Herta had just sent Baiheng away and was facing Cyrene alone:
Cyrene watched the approaching Black Herta warily. The cold and malicious aura emanating from the other party (under Aha's filter) sent shivers down her spine.
However, Black Herta's first sentence was unexpected: "First, don't ask questions. Listen to me."
Black Herta's tone was unquestionable. "We are going to put on a performance."
"A performance?"
Cyrene's eyes were full of doubt, which quickly turned into deeper vigilance.
How could she possibly cooperate with this "Iron Tomb" that had imprisoned her here?
Black Herta was unsurprised by her reaction, having anticipated that she wouldn't comply easily.
She snapped her fingers, and a Light Screen instantly unfolded between the two of them.
"You must listen to me."
Black Herta's voice carried a hint of danger. "Otherwise..."
She paused deliberately, her gaze sweeping over the Light Screen. "You recognize... Anaxa, right?"
Black Herta slowly uttered the name, observing Cyrene's reaction.
Hearing that name, immense sorrow instantly welled up in Cyrene's azure eyes.
Anaxa... that wise and gentle Scholar, a companion of Amphoreus, a member of the Golden Descendants... what happened to him?
A barely perceptible curve lifted the corner of Black Herta's mouth, like a hunter who had grasped a fatal weakness. Just thinking about what she was about to do made her struggle to maintain composure.
"Guess what he's like... now?"
Before she finished speaking, the Light Screen suddenly illuminated, and a highly impactful scene, accompanied by incredibly hypnotic background music (imagine an exotic, rhythmically intense Indian Dance Tune), began to play!
In the center of the screen was the Scholar Cyrene knew well—Anaxa!
But his current state caused Cyrene's Pupil Shock, directly shattering the limits of her understanding!
Anaxa had completely lost his usual composure and wisdom. He was frantically twisting his body in a setting that... looked like the habitat of the Earth Beast!
His movements were exaggerated and chaotic, a nearly deranged smile on his face. Following the music's rhythm, he was singing off-key lyrics at the top of his lungs:
"Earth Beast~ my beloved~!"
"Hahahahahahahahahahaha~!"
"Come quickly into Daddy's arms~!"
"Hahahahahahaha~!"
He was tightly clutching an Earth Beast Doll, raising it high one moment and hugging it the next, wildly swaying with his dance moves. The entire scene was filled with an indescribable sense of abstraction and mental pollution!
The hypnotic melody, the frenzied dance, combined with Anaxa's face, which usually held an air of seriousness and wisdom but was now goofing off... all of it coalesced into an abstract scene capable of causing mental breakdown for anyone who knew him!
Cyrene: "!!!!!!!!"
Her entire body froze. Her azure eyes instantly widened into perfect circles, her mouth slightly agape. She was completely petrified, as if struck by a bolt of lightning.
Th-This is Anaxa?!
(Note: This abstract video material was a mental-pollution-level fan creation Madam Herta dug out from a certain Pink Little Television in her past-life memories, and she was now using it as her trump card to "persuade" Cyrene.)
Black Herta shut off the Light Screen at the right moment. The hypnotic music abruptly ceased, leaving Cyrene standing there, questioning her life.
"Did you see?"
Black Herta said in a tone bordering on pity, "This is the consequence of non-cooperation. Mental Corrosion, cognitive distortion... that's his situation now. He's already a happy lunatic."
Watching Cyrene's expression of world-view collapse and near desperation, she slowly added, "So, if you agree to obediently listen to me and cooperate with me to finish this performance... I might consider letting him recover somewhat."
She pointed to where the Light Screen had been. "At least... I won't let him continue to be so... well, 'lively and cheerful'."
Cyrene bit down hard on her lower lip, almost drawing blood.
She couldn't imagine her companion enduring such inhumane torture (in her view), nor could she tolerate a rational Scholar like Anaxa turning into the figure shown on the screen.
The immense grief and worry for her companion overwhelmed her personal humiliation and fear.
"...I... I agree..." She used nearly all her strength just to squeeze those words out between her teeth.
For the sake of her companion, she had no choice.
And thus, we arrived at the opening scene—a drama of separation and death (unilaterally imposed), like that of "Star-Crossed Lovers."
Cyrene genuinely incorporated some worry about her companion's plight and her own predicament.
Unfortunately, the audience (Aha) had standards that were too high.
Black Herta looked at the glaring "7" on the Rating Panel, then at Cyrene, who was forced to gather her emotions again, feeling truly exhausted playing the villain.
"Are you ready?"
Black Herta cleared her throat, trying to find a more "dramatic" feeling. "We... begin Act Two."
Cyrene closed her eyes, tears clinging to her long lashes. She silently apologized to Anaxa in her heart, then, with greater "dedication," immersed herself in the grief and helplessness of being coerced.