Phantom Passing By

The shooting star that had been flung backward gradually receded until it finally vanished from sight.

On the broad shore, only Tyrion, Aiden, and Agatha remained.

The "Lost Star" from ancient times still floated quietly above the beach, clouds drifting slowly across its surface as it continuously emitted a faint, almost nonexistent howl, like a soft whimper. A dozen meters away lay the calm sea—under the pale golden sunlight, its waters resembled a slowly undulating mirror, and the tiny waves were far gentler than usual.

In the long dusk, Tyrion finally broke the silence. "Gatekeeper, if the sun truly falls apart completely, do you think the Church's power will still be enough to maintain order between the city-states?"

Agatha did not answer. Faced with such an overly sharp question, she remained silent for a long time—yet if this had been the Agatha of a year ago, she would have given an affirmative answer without hesitation.

Agatha knew that she was no longer as devout and steadfast as before. A crack had appeared in that unconditional faith during the Mirror Calamity of Frost, and doubt had slipped in through it.

Yet after hesitating, she still nodded gently. "I believe my brothers and sisters will do everything they can... They will too."

"An answer reached after consideration is not as resolute as a believer's answer, but under these circumstances, it is more reassuring," Tyrion said, slowly exhaling. A faint smile appeared on his face. "No matter what, we will do everything we can. I imagine the other city-states will as well."

Agatha said nothing, only nodded quietly. Then she turned, and her figure dissolved into a swirling pale wind, vanishing with it.

Aiden had been silently watching from the side. Only now did he hesitate before speaking. "...What are your plans next?"