Phaethon's brow furrowed tightly. "Then, Aha, can you..."
His words were interrupted by an identical, perfectly mimicked tone: "Hahahaha, Aha has no face, Aha has no face! Aha's mask has been soaking in the room's bath for almost a whole day, and no one noticed!"
"...Aha has discovered a great delight, of course it must be explored! explored!"
"..."
Phaethon fell silent for a moment, finally noticing the source of the voice.
He stood up and walked towards the ornately decorated bath in the corner of the room. The water was clear, and lying quietly at the bottom was a vividly colored, exaggeratedly expressive red mask.
At this moment, the mask was opening and closing mechanically, repeating those two sentences over and over, like a stuck phonograph, or... a poorly designed repeater.
"Hahahaha, Aha has no face..."
Phaethon bent down, reached into the slightly cool water, and fished out the mask. Droplets slid down its comical curves.
It continued to open and close in his palm, repeating the words that received no response.
He stared at this so-called divine "gift" for a long while, eventually shaking his head helplessly. There truly was no power within it.
Phaethon's fingers tightened, as if wanting to crush it, but after a moment's thought, he decided to put it away.
It was absolutely not because he discovered at the moment of squeezing that the mask had suddenly become incredibly sturdy.
Fine. That's very Aha.
But... the appearance of this avatar of chaos here was definitely not just to drop off a noisy repeating mask.
Phaethon's fingers unconsciously tapped the tabletop. A Destruction Emanator who wants to destroy "Destruction," and an Erudition Emanator who wants to annihilate "Erudition," both laid out before Aha...
Which one could bring greater "delight"?
The answer was obvious.
Both could bring immense delight.
For Aha, this was probably an unmissable carnival feast.
But Aha's appearance, for those like them caught within the feast, often meant... the situation was becoming unprecedentedly chaotic and dangerous.
...
The next day, before the light from the Dawn Device had fully dispelled the chill in the room, an uninvited guest arrived.
Cerydra stood outside his door, in casual attire, yet unable to completely conceal the authority befitting a Monarch. She got straight to the point, her gaze burning:
"Fortune Duke, your next target should be the Ocean Titan, Phagousa, correct? How about leaving her to me to subjugate personally?"
Phaethon, who was adjusting his cuffs, didn't pause his movements upon hearing this, nor did he even look up at her.
"Let's not talk about that first, Cerydra 1," he said flatly, as if mentioning a perfectly ordinary code name. "When do you plan to retrieve and hand over the Coreflame of Law?"
Cerydra visibly choked. She seemed not to have expected him to bring this up so directly, and with that strange suffix. A mix of irritation and guilt flashed across her face.
"What's it to you?" Her voice rose slightly, carrying a hint of bluster, as if her secret had been exposed. "Since I have promised you, I will naturally honor my commitment and present the Coreflame of Law with both hands! A Monarch never goes back on her word!"
Phaethon finally raised his eyes. His gaze was calm yet piercing, holding her in a long, unbroken stare, without shifting away or uttering another word.
The silence itself held more power than any interrogation, as if it could see into all the calculations and hesitations deep within her heart.
Under Phaethon's gaze, Cerydra ultimately turned and left.
...
Cerydra walked alone into the Hall of Three Fate in Janusopolis.
The massive hall doors closed slowly behind her with a dull reverberation, cutting off all outside noise.
The hall was incredibly vast and empty. Only the faint light from the dome illuminated the enormous, ancient scale at the center the symbol of the Law Titan, representing cold, unfeeling absolute fairness.
She stepped towards the scale, the sound of her boots striking the polished marble floor, mirror-smooth, magnified infinitely in the endless silence, as if each step landed on a node of fate.
She stopped before the scale, looking up at the huge, empty golden pans. Her figure appeared both diminutive and resolute before the grand construct.
"Mortal child..."
A majestic, non-human voice, as if woven from countless rules and decrees, rumbled through the hall, vibrating the air and her very bones.
"Are you certain you wish to undertake the Trial of Law once more?"
Cerydra took a deep breath, straightened her back, her crimson eyes burning with an unshakable flame.
"Correct," her voice was clear and firm, stirring faint echoes in the space. "I am resolved. I will surely tread Law beneath my feet."
"Thou shouldst know," the Titan's voice held no inflection, merely stating an eternal rule. "All things demand a price. If thou seekest the Coreflame of Law..."
The voice paused slightly, the pressure doubling.
"...thou must pay an equivalent price."
Hum
One of the golden scale pans glowed faintly. A pulsating, shimmering orb of light, condensed with immense power and ancient law, slowly manifested it was precisely the Coreflame of the Law Titan.
"I have placed the Titan's Coreflame upon one pan of the scale," the majestic voice continued, like a final ultimatum. "And thou what equivalent stake art thou prepared to place upon the other pan of the scale?"
...
Meanwhile, in a distant place.
Phaethon opened his eyes.
What met his gaze was not the cold stone walls of his lodgings, but a boundless, sun-drenched expanse of dazzling flower fields.
A gentle breeze carried an intoxicating fragrance. Flowers of every color swayed gracefully, stretching to the horizon.
Further away, several familiar small figures were running and playing joyfully among the flowers.
Little Cyrene with her pigtails, laughter like silver bells; and that toddling little Phainon with exceptionally bright eyes...
Phaethon's brows instantly knitted tightly.
He had merely yielded to a sliver of irrepressible curiosity, trying on Aha's noisy mask for a moment How had he suddenly been tossed into such a place?
Reason told him this wasn't real, most likely the doing of that God of Delight.
He wanted to go forward, to investigate the source of this illusion of course, purely to understand the situation. It was absolutely not because a sudden, intense impulse surged from some corner of his heart:
To tease his brother first, to try lifting that adorable little Phainon high, then to ruffle little Cyrene's head, and finally to hear them call him "big brother" in their soft, sweet voices...
Though the situation was bizarre since he was here, he might as well make the best of it. Wouldn't letting an opportunity slip be a waste of Aha's "kind gesture"?