"Penacony's Stellaron... it is the Penacony Grand Theater itself."
"And the one who harnessed the Stellaron to orchestrate all this... it's likely Mr. Gopherwood, who is now Penacony's Dreammaster..."
On Penacony's Dreamscape Reef, facing the group's questions, Sunday spoke with a somber expression, revealing the truth.
Hearing this revelation, Robin's previously tense expression relaxed slightly.
At least, based on the current evidence, Mr. Gopherwood also met all the previously speculated criteria... her brother wasn't the only possible candidate.
"Oh? You've already identified the 'culprit' so quickly? You must have conducted a thorough investigation," Gallagher remarked, surprised that the "prime suspect" had been pinpointed so swiftly.
"Indeed. While searching for my sister's killer, after you, he was my primary suspect," Sunday replied with his usual candor.
"Now that we've identified the mastermind, what are we waiting for?"
"With so many of us here, let's go find him and grill him relentlessly!"
Watching Sister Lumina's various interactions with Herta earlier, March 7th resolved to resolve this situation as quickly as possible.
Originally, March 7th had come to Penacony for a dual vacation with Sister Lumina. How had she inexplicably gotten entangled in a massive conspiracy again...?
And where had Herta even come from? Was she even mentioned on Penacony's invitation?
March 7th's gaze fell on Herta, who was practically pressed against Sister Lumina. Her eyes burned with envy, desperately wishing she could swap places with Herta...
"The Dreammaster is like a mythical dragon—elusive and rarely seen," Sunday explained, shaking his head helplessly. The small wings on his head fluttered slightly with the movement, making one long to reach out and touch them, to feel their texture. "Even the Heads of the Great Houses rarely meet him."
"And..." Sunday's voice suddenly deepened, even affecting the mood of the robin beside him. "Mr. Gopherwood has been a great benefactor to my sister and me... I truly can't bear to see him end up like this."
"Hmm... If you're willing, could you elaborate?"
"My brother and I are also victims of the Cancer of All Worlds..." The robin glanced at the black-and-white duo still engaging in intimate interactions nearby, her beautiful eyes swirling with complex emotions. It was impossible to discern her thoughts.
Withdrawing her gaze, she spoke with a mix of sorrow and gratitude: "We were orphans from a young age, raised by a family who took us in out of charity."
"When Mr. Gopherwood saw our potential, he brought my brother and me to Penacony..."
"But... even so," the robin's voice regained its unwavering resolve, "we can't stand by and watch Mr. Gopherwood turn against Harmony..."
"And I absolutely refuse to use my voice to glorify evil..."
"No matter who the Family's traitor is... no matter what orders they give me, I will not take the stage and sing..." Robin's gaze fixed on Sunday, her eyebrows arching sharply, her expression fierce, as if addressing Mr. Gopherwood directly, yet also speaking to someone else in the room.
"My brother and I absolutely cannot allow the Charmony Festival to become a ritual for the Destruction of Harmony!"
Robin's expression gradually softened, a faint smile gracing her exquisite features. She looked directly into Sunday's eyes and said:
"For the Paradise we dream of."
Sunday: ...
"Yes... for the Paradise we dream of," Sunday replied sincerely, his words echoing Robin's heartfelt hope.
Sigh...
Hearing her brother's familiar, genuine words, Robin's tense heart gradually relaxed.
He was still the familiar brother she knew, unwavering from their shared original aspiration...
Having confirmed this, a gentle smile slowly bloomed on Robin's lips.
"Are these two even talking about the same thing?" Herta murmured, watching Robin and Sunday's conversation from nearby. She couldn't help but feel exasperated with Robin.
Sunday's "paradise" was clearly not the same as the paradise Robin spoke of... And hadn't that little bird noticed her voice gradually becoming distorted as she approached Sunday?
It was understandable if she hadn't noticed, given how the emotion of "family affection" was constantly clouding her judgment.
But why hadn't anyone else noticed? Were they all members of the Dunce Society?
"Those involved are blind, while onlookers see clearly. That's just human nature. What can you do about it?" Lumina yawned, unconcerned by the matter.
When you complete something flawlessly and perfectly, looking back reveals countless imperfections in the process.
In simpler terms: you can never achieve perfection in a single attempt.
Robin and the Astral Express crew were a prime example. Despite the obvious truth staring them in the face, they remained blind to it.
Well, it wasn't exactly glaringly obvious, but to Lumina and Herta, it seemed particularly clear.
"So, this guy... he's the source of the power enveloping the entire Asdana Star System?" Herta murmured, her gaze sweeping up and down Sunday's figure.
"No, it's not him," Lumina replied, shaking her head. Her expression turned serious as she clarified, "The one who envelops the entire Asdana Star System is God-Lord Sunday, not just Sunday."
"Is there even a difference?" Herta scrutinized Sunday closely, confirming that the God-Lord Sunday Lumina spoke of and the Sunday before her were indeed the same person.
Though that power was a fusion of Order and Harmony, its essence remained identical to this young man's. After observing him for so long, Herta was certain she couldn't be mistaken.
"Of course there's a difference! God-Lord Sunday is God-Lord Sunday, and Sunday is Sunday."
"They don't even have the same name. What makes you think they're the same person?"
Lumina patiently explained the distinctions between God-Lord Sunday and Sunday, presenting her reasoning clearly and logically.
In response, Herta simply rolled her eyes, too exasperated to bother arguing with this idiot Lumina.
At the mention of fools, Herta immediately recalled the Intelligentsia Guild's assessment of her. Turning to Lumina, she asked, "Then tell me, what's the difference between The Herta and Herta?"
"The Herta and Herta?"
"Mm-hmm. The Herta is me, and Herta is the Space Station's puppet." Herta flicked her hair, waiting for Lumina's answer.
"Hmm..." Lumina stroked her chin, carefully scrutinizing Herta from head to toe, toe to head, left to right, and right to left.
Herta cooperatively struck various poses to facilitate Lumina's inspection.
After a moment, Lumina's gaze first settled on Herta's exquisite face before drifting slightly downward. Slowly, she gave her verdict: "I don't think there's much difference at all."
"They're both the same size~"
"See? No difference, right~?" Herta hummed with satisfaction, pleased to hear the answer she wanted.
"Whether it's The Herta or Little Herta, neither one isn't... hmm?"
As she spoke, Herta suddenly realized something was off.
Had Lumina's answer just brought up something about size?
"My Main Body's physique is completely different from my puppet's. How could they possibly be the same size?"
"What do you mean by 'the same size'?" Herta asked, puzzled.
Lumina remained silent, her gaze fixed on a particular spot on Herta's body.
"Pfft..." A disdainful smile flickered across her face.
At first, Herta was utterly perplexed. What could Lumina be seeing that would provoke such a reaction? Following Lumina's line of sight, she glanced downward.
Herta: ...
Hmm... Being able to see one's toes when looking down—truly a peerless beauty of the mortal realm.
"Don't worry, Little Herta. At least there's still a few millimeters' difference," Lumina said, lifting her chin and puffing out her chest as she stepped forward to pat Herta's shoulder, offering a sliver of comfort.
Herta: ...
"You can still grow..." Lumina added with earnest emphasis, seeing Herta's continued silence.
Herta: (╯▔皿▔)╯
"Countless mysteries exist... but the answer is..."
BOOM!!!