Looking at the small pink ribbon Cyrene found by the sea, the memories of the last few turbulent weeks washed over Stelle as she sluggishly sat down on the small table, reminiscing about past events.
A lot has happened on Amphoreus.
In a sense, too much has happened.
Getting shot down by Aquila and crash landing in the Abyss of Fate Janusopolis, meeting Phainon and Tribbie, riding a droma to the Eternal Holy City Okhema, only to see it besieged by the Savage God, the Incarnation of Strife Nikador, yet after repelling him, while met with hospitality at first, it was just a ploy to lead her in a false sense of security inside the Vortex of Genesis.
Thinking back on it, she has yet to forgive Aglaea for what she did to this day.
But what choice did she have?
After all, they were on the same side, and it wasn't like she didn't understand her perspective in all of this.
Carrying the burden of protecting the city for that long must have been heavy, to the point it was difficult to blame Aglaea for choosing the most straightforward method to get a clear picture. Though surely there should be a more gentle method than the one she picked.
Still, it's all in the past now.
Even if Stelle wanted to complain about Aglaea's ways, now, after her sacrifice, it would just fall on deaf ears.
There is no use crying over spilled milk. The garmentmakers were still there, but those could hardly be called Aglaea. Fragments of her, perhaps, but not her.
Thinking back on it, Stelle had to chuckle. That was only the first day spent on Amphoreus, and the following few weeks only proved to be more eventful.
So much happened on Amphoreus. From retrieving the coreflames, discovering she had died, inheriting Oronyx's will, playing with chimeras, uncovering the truth about Era Nova, playing with seals, and finally confronting Aquila and witnessing the fall of Okhema.
Along that trail, she made many new friends and also lost most of them.
Trianne, Anaxagoras, Aglaea, Cifera, Mydeimos, Castorice, and Hyacinthia, their lives, their wills, though all of them had different morals, ideals, and wishes, each Chrysos Heir gave up what was theirs to complete the flamechase journey.
Just so there could be a future for the next generation.
Watching, supporting, and fighting with them felt like a dream.
She knew almost nothing about them, and the few brief conversations she had with them outside of duty could be called small talk at best, something to pass the time.
It almost felt unreal, even fake sometimes. To Stelle, it sometimes felt like she was a new character introduced close to the very end of a story with over a thousand chapters, who was supposed to be important.
Which is why it was even more painful to her to learn that everything had just been a simulation.
Scrolling through all the files of δ-me13.exe inside of "As I've Written," frustration, but mainly sadness, washed over her.
Learning that Amphoreus was just a simulation by the scepter δ-me13, also known as irontomb, one of the very scepters she learned about the unknowable domain inside the simulated universe, the very scepters created by Rubert II in the hopes of reaching Nous, one of those things was glimpsed by Nanook the Destruction and run simulations a countless number of times to create the anti-organic-equation...
28,371,272 cycles for Amphoreus to get to the state it is today, and the first Era Nova to be completed.
Some more cycles until Cyrene and Phainon learned about the truth of Amphoreus.
33,550,336 cycles of causing an error in Irontomb's computational system to stop it from finishing the anti-organic equation.
That 33,550,336 cycle was what she, Stelle, experienced. Just one cycle, at the very end.
Just that cycle alone caused her more emotional distress than she had ever experienced when she trailblazed.
At Herta Space Station, she woke up with no memories of who she was, a lost child with no past—but when people's lives were on the line, she stepped up, fighting off the Antimatter Legion, becoming a Nameless.
On Belobog, her first expedition, she uncovered the truth of the eternal freeze the Supreme Guardian had buried, and helped Bronya choose a future for her people instead of a dead end.
On the Xianzhou Luofu, she became a piece on top of the board of one of the Arbiter-Generals, Jing Yuan, not merely a pawn but a key figure who helped end the looming crises on the board.
And in Penacony, she entered the Dreamscape alongside many with vested interests, schemes, and secrets. Yet, she stood steadfast in her ideals, shaping the path forward to the future, rejecting the sweet allure of dreams, because one day we will wake up from our slumber.
And yet, on Amphoreus, she felt lost. She felt weak, powerless.
The weight Phainon had entrusted her with, could she truly carry it?
"You know... you've got that look again."
Hearing that soft, familiar, melodic voice, Stelle lifted herself from the table. She didn't notice, but at some point at time, she was starting to rest her head on her arm on the table.
"That look?"
Cyrene nodded with a gentle smile, softly brushing off the golden leaves from Stelle's head.
"Yeah, as if the weight of the whole world was pressing down on you."
All she could do was chuckle helplessly when those words were offered to her.
Yeah, that sounds about right. She had no doubt that if it came down to it, back at Herta Space Station, she didn't need to become a Nameless.
On Jarilo-VI, all she did was gave Bronya the final push. On the Xianzhou, Jing Yuan had everything under control, and on Penacony, she had help.
Carrying the whole fate of the world, of the entire cosmos even, this was a first for her.
"You know... Phainon used to get that look too."
Hearing his name again, after everything that happened, Stelle's breath hitched.
"Back then, when we were kids. He'd sit by the lake—the same one I showed you—and just... stare into the distance. Like he was already somewhere else. Like his heart had already left Aedes Elysiae before his feet ever did."
Cyrene paused, brushing off another leaf from Stelle's shoulder.
"I didn't understand it then. I thought he was just... restless. The way boys are."
She smiled, a soft, sad smile.
"But looking back... I think he was always going to leave. Already a hero in his head. The deliverer. The one who carries everything."
Another pause. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, it was quite the opposite even. It was the silence between two childhood friends, who didn't need to fill every second spent together with words.
"But, here's the thing, Stelle. Phainon carried that weight, because he believed nobody else could. Phainon—no, Khaslana—carried the whole weight by himself, because after countless cycles, there was nobody left that could stand as his equal."
Looking at her fingers, she recited wistfully.
"There were... some who helped him across the countless cycles. Anaxa, Hyacin, Cypher and Aglaea..."
Closing one finger after another, until there were none. Slowly reaching for Stelle's hands.
"They made it to the end with him. Different people, different endings. But ultimately, those were alliances of conveniences rather than actual-"
But Stelle was taking none of it. After that revelation? How could she possibly be in a soft and tender mood?
"Why are you telling me all this-!"
But, Cyrene's smile didn't waver. She didn't flinch, nor did she pull away. She just continued to look at Stelle with the same tender eyes she offered her friends, and reached out again anways.
"Because you need to know that you're not him. You don't have to be."
Feeling her palm gently pressed against Cyrene's chest, Stelle lost all her strength to feel upset, as she weakly stared at the ground.
"Then what am I supposed to do?"
Cyrene laughed, that familiar, sing-song laugh of hers, soft and warm, like sunlight through leaves.
"Right now? How about you relax and stop overthinking things~?"
She tugged on Stelle's arm gently, pulling her down on the pile of blankets and pillows close by.
"Come on. Rest your head. Just for a little while."
Patting her lap, offering it up for our heroic trailblazer.
"What? My thighs won't bite! I promise I won't tell anyone the great Trailblazer took a nap."
For a second, Stelle hesitated, but feeling plenty exhausted, there wasn't much resistance for that soft offer left in her.
"Don't overthink it. Just think of it as a bedtime story. I'll whisper it softly and quietly..."
Cyrene's voice dropped to a playful hush, lulling the trailblazer closer and closer into sleep.
"...until the final sentence comes to a close. ♪"
Stelle's breath slowed down, steadied, taking on a slow and gentle rhythm of in, and out.
"Besides..."
Cyrene looked out, at the wide golden fields of Aedes Elysia, drinking the air in, before looking back at Stelle.
"You promised me a romantic story, remember? And what's romance without a little... this?"
Her fingers traced slow circles on Stelle's shoulder. The world blurred at the edges.
"Don't fight it. Just... let yourself drift off into dreams. ♪"