Reality, hotel lobby.
"So, the attacker was a woman in red, skilled in illusion and disguise."
Welt Yang summarized the information after listening to Stelle's account.
Black Swan explained from the side, "Her name is 'Sparkle,' one of Fools. Everyone, don't worry, that girl must think she's succeeded and is hiding somewhere, secretly laughing. She won't bother us again for now."
Welt Yang pressed, "You seem to know her very well."
"Of course, I know everyone here. In Penacony, words can deceive, but 'memories' cannot."
Black Swan changed the subject, clarifying a key point,
"Sparkle's tricks are limited to illusions. The root of that bizarre dreamscape that devours people is Penacony itself."
Hearing this, Himeko asked curiously, "Then for what reason would the Garden of Recollection choose to cooperate with the Astral Express?"
Black Swan smiled and said, "I am a Memokeeper, and also a collector. I also want to witness those clear, brilliant, precious memories—this idea is easy to understand, isn't it?"
Himeko was silent for a moment, neither refusing nor confirming, "I understand. But before I give you an answer, we still need to have some discussions."
Black Swan, being perceptive, stepped aside, "Of course, please feel free."
After watching Black Swan leave, Welt Yang pulled up the file Silver Wolf sent and synced it to everyone's terminals.
Everyone finished reading it.
"The situation is very clear now."
Welt Yang pushed up his glasses,
"The tranquility of the Festive Star is merely an illusion. Various forces are vying for 'the Watchmaker's Legacy.' It's only a matter of time before this struggle affects the innocent."
And Black Swan silently observed, all discussions seemed so natural.
No one noticed anything amiss.
They had never set foot in Room 0719.
They had never heard the term "antimeme."
There had never been a man in their team, clad in a black robe and wearing a golden mask.
Yet, in the depths of the unknown, some invisible thread, a coordinate deeply embedded in the soul, was still at work.
Stelle's lips moved slightly, instinctively wanting to say something.
"If only... he were here."
But the words that reached her throat turned into another sentence.
"Let's go, Sister Himeko, the sooner we resolve this, the sooner we can rest easy."
Yes, they wouldn't intentionally remember.
Because the most profound remembrance requires no recalling... the dream.
Light and shadow twisted, the world reconfigured.
Under Black Swan's guidance, Stelle returned to that bizarre and colorful area.
"Your companions are elsewhere, safe for now," Black Swan's voice soothed, "We must hurry, the flow of Memoria here... is very unstable."
Black Swan, acting as a guide, led Stelle through this 'true face of the dreamscape.'
After investigating along the way, at a corner of a certain corridor, several figures came into view.
Leading them was the "Galaxy Ranger"—Acheron—with waist-length purple hair and a cool demeanor.
Behind her, Phainon, Mydei, and Cipher followed unhurriedly.
"Partner!"
Stelle's eyes lit up, all her unease vanished, and she immediately waved and ran over.
Phainon stopped, nodded slightly to Stelle, and his calm gaze swept over Black Swan beside her.
The two exchanged glances, but neither said anything.
"How did you all end up here too?" Stelle asked curiously.
"All thanks to Miss Acheron leading the way," Phainon's answer was as elusive as ever.
Stelle scratched her head, silently thinking to herself, one dares to lead, and the others dare to follow!
Just at this moment.
In the depths of Phainon's consciousness, the invisible system screen, unseen by anyone, showed numbers frantically jumping.
["Body Meltdown: 71.831%..."]
The meltdown progress surged again.
He could clearly feel that the vision in his right eye was rapidly peeling away, swallowed by a patch of darkness.
His current intact appearance was merely a magnificent packaging woven by Cipher using her "Trickery" authority.
His true form was already tattered beyond recognition.
The speed was wrong.
Since he left the room until now, by his subjective sense of time, it had been at most a few hours.
The meltdown progress should never have increased by 7%... The last time it went out of control, if it was because the interaction between reality and the dream broke the balance.
But now, he had clearly fully immersed himself in the dream... Unless... Phainon's mind churned with a storm of thoughts.
Unless, there was some variable he had overlooked.
Or rather, this was the true "toxicity" of Penacony's dreamscape.
Black Swan interrupted their conversation, "Let's go, everyone, we still need to continue finding the truth within."
After Phainon and the other three joined, the rest of the journey was uneventful.
Soon after.
Everyone arrived at the depths of the hotel lobby.
And ahead, they once again saw the familiar figure of a young girl.
Firefly.
The girl stood under a dazzling billboard, seemingly waiting for someone, her face a mix of unease and anticipation.
Phainon's gaze moved from her to Mydei and Cipher beside him.
He saw that Cipher's cat ears were slightly drooping.
Her tail also hung stiffly.
Mydei's brows were even furrowed with a hint of melancholy.
Were they... nervous?
No.
They were... waiting.
Waiting for a moment they didn't want to see, yet knew must happen.
At this moment.
The air temperature plummeted to freezing point.
Shadows writhed on the ground, converging, finally forming a grotesque monster wielding a giant scythe.
Memetic Entity—"Something Unto Death."
Everyone present felt a sense of dread.
The monster didn't even glance at them.
their target, from beginning to end, was only one—
Firefly.
The girl's eyes widened in terror, wanting to retreat, but her body was pinned to the spot by invisible shackles, unable to move.
"Look out!"
Stelle's cry tore through the air, and she was about to rush forward.
But it was too late.
The icy blade met no resistance.
Pfft—
A faint sound of flesh being pierced, yet it drilled into everyone's eardrums.
Stelle watched, wide-eyed, as the blade pierced through Firefly's slender body.
The shock and pain on Firefly's face froze. She lowered her head, looking at the wound on her chest in disbelief, then slowly raised her head, looking at Stelle who was desperately rushing towards her, her lips moving slightly, finally squeezing out a few words.
"I, I'm sorry..."
Swish—
"Unto Death" indifferently withdrew their blade.
Firefly's body lost all support and fell limply from the air.
Stelle dropped the baseball bat in her hand, frantically reaching out with both hands, wanting to catch the falling, gentle dream.
At the moment of imminent touch, Firefly's body began to disintegrate, turning into a puddle of cold liquid.
Stelle's hands froze in mid-air, her fingertips only touching a trace of bone-chilling cold.
She stood there stunned, her mind blank, unable to process what was happening before her eyes.
Just like that... dead?
Phainon quietly looked at the puddle of liquid on the ground.
He had accepted Elio's script; he knew Firefly would face her three deaths.
So he did not intervene.
But... Phainon's gaze never left the two people beside him.
Mydei still stood with his arms crossed, his face as still as water.
Cipher turned her head, burying her face in the shadows.
They didn't intervene.
They didn't even seem to intend to intervene.
The moment "Something Unto Death" appeared, the two of them just watched silently.
This was not normal.
This completely contradicted their underlying logic.
Phainon's thoughts raced.
Countless details, countless inconsistencies, connected together.
A thought burst forth.
Mydei and Cipher were acting!
They had been acting all along!