Things have come to this.
Phantylia's words, "You are merely a chess piece in a game played by gods," were not false.
But he didn't care.
What if he was a chess piece?
When a chess piece gains the power to overturn the board, the player will become the next chess piece.
Whether destiny is predetermined no longer matters.
What matters is that his will, as Phainon, was incredibly clear and firm at this moment.
His gaze returned to the system panel.
"core flames: 402604027"
"Sparks that can be carried (Nothingness): ∞"
"Authority: Make-believe reality 3.0 — All actions bring joy, laughter is built from pain, illusions are not false."
Aha had not tampered with the notes again.
After truly understanding the meaning of "Joy," this authority had already reached their peak.
The Chrysos Heirss were no longer false illusions, no longer borrowed power.
They were real companions.
As the consciousness of the traverser and the memories of reincarnation completely integrated, the sparks accumulated over 33,550,336 reincarnations were all kindled.
The concept of Nothingness even turned the upper limit of carrying capacity into infinity.
Phainon took out a slip of paper.
A name was written on it in blood-red: Nanook.
Below it, his fingertip traced the paper, leaving a fresh mark — Erudition.
"After dealing with Nanook, you're next."
He put the slip of paper away and fell into contemplation.
Saving Amphoreus required a plan.
A plan so meticulous it could deceive Erudition, a plan so foolproof it wouldn't let Destruction succeed.
To drag two Aeons into the game at the same time.
Phainon's lips curved slightly.
This game of chess seemed to be getting interesting.
Oh, right, since I broke through the dream, then Tiernan's relics shouldn't have been used yet, right?
I need to go ask Boothill.
The next moment, his figure quietly merged into the night.
—
Daydream Hotel, bar.
Amidst the mellow jazz music, the Express crew and the Chrysos Heirss were enjoying a rare celebratory moment.
Phainon did not join them.
He merely leaned against the bar, holding a glass of water, with a bottle of high-end liquor on the table beside him.
It was a gift prepared for Boothill.
Just then.
An elegant figure approached him, bringing with her a pleasant scent.
Black Swan sat down next to Phainon, "Sir Phainon, congratulations on breaking free from the shackles of the counter-meme."
Phainon turned his head and nodded slightly to her.
"Thanks to the anchor Miss Black Swan planted, otherwise, my companions wouldn't have remembered me so quickly."
"It was nothing."
Black Swan's purple eyes shimmered, carrying a Memokeeper's desire to explore the unknown.
"However, when Sir Phainon broke through the 'Dream of Unity,' I sensed an incredibly vast memory..."
"It's very interesting; it seems to mention a forbidden place known only to the Garden of Recollection — Amphoreus. I wonder if I have the honor of witnessing it firsthand?"
Phainon's hand, holding the water glass, paused in mid-air. He warned, "Are you sure?"
"My memory isn't a river; it's a burning abyss."
He added softly,
"It might burn all memories to ashes."
Black Swan's confidence stemmed from her pride as a Memokeeper.
She smiled charmingly, "Please rest assured, Sir Phainon, I am merely an elegant dancer in the long river of memories. As long as that abyss is not Nothingness, it cannot trap me."
"Then, please proceed." Phainon's voice was as light as a sigh, "Consequences are your own responsibility."
The next moment, Black Swan extended her slender finger, her fingertip wreathed in a dreamlike glow, and she gently tapped Phainon.
"Then, I'm making my move."
The instant their fingertips touched.
Black Swan plunged into a scorched earth!
This was not one, not two... but 33,550,336 reincarnations, exploding simultaneously in her consciousness!
The searing pain of being incinerated by flames!
The deathly silence of a soul frozen by ice!
The despair of personally slaying a beloved friend and watching the light in their eyes extinguish!
Endless memories transformed into the most real torture, playing out simultaneously in every corner of her soul!
The vast torrent of memories was a labyrinth with no exit; she was forced forward but could never reach the end.
She wanted to withdraw; she had to withdraw.
But her consciousness was firmly pinned down by that heavy obsession, unable to move!
Memory was being burned by memory!
"Miss Black Swan?"
Phainon put down his water glass and asked, "Are you alright?"
Before he finished speaking.
Thump—
Black Swan's figure slumped softly. If Phainon hadn't reached out to support her waist, she would have collapsed directly to the ground.
She gasped violently, all elegance gone, like a dying fish, gulping air, every inch of her skin trembling uncontrollably.
At this moment, her body temperature was alarmingly high, and faint white smoke even rose from beneath her exquisite gown.
Her soul was on the verge of boiling in the residual heat of the memories!
Phainon tilted his head, looking at her, "Miss Black Swan, are you really alright?"
This Memokeeper, who always maintained composure and mystery, now had a face as pale as paper and unfocused eyes.
Her pupils reflected countless shattered world fragments, leaving only unprecedented terror and bewilderment.
She suddenly broke free from Phainon's support, stumbling back to the corner, as if it were a safe harbor.
Then, under Phainon's calm gaze, she slowly squatted down, burying her head deeply between her knees.
Her entire body curled into a ball.
Trying to hide herself from this world.
After almost having her feathers plucked clean from peeking into Acheron's memories last time, this time, she was almost roasted alive.
Black Swan completely shut down.
She didn't want to be a swan now; she just wanted to be an ostrich.
"Amphoreus, I'm not going! I'm not going!"