The Mists of the Consciousness Empire (Continued)

"You... what happened to her?" Miss Surtr forced herself to change the words "what happened to her" before uttering them. She felt she might need to consider Persephone's feelings.

"It's not what happened to her, but what you did to her." However, Persephone gave her an unexpected answer.

"What do you mean?" She walked over to Ludmila and looked at the unconscious Lupo. She then noticed that the little wolf was extremely tense, covered in sweat—probably from the heat—and his hormones were surging, as if he were in the middle of a life-or-death struggle.

Is this... a nightmare? The kind of nightmare you can't wake up from?

She thought to herself. Then, in the next moment, she heard the answer from Persephone. His fingertips, while explaining, gently stroked the unconscious girl's hair, emphasizing Lupo girl's fragility and pitiful nature.

"She's dreaming, and there's something interesting hidden in her dream. And while she's dreaming, some flames that look very familiar to me are eroding everything she has."

She made a gesture, seemingly trying to convey a sense of fright.

What did you do to her?

"Uh..." Miss Surtr scratched her head and described to Persephone the flames she had implanted in Ludmila and the foreign objects expelled from her body.

Then she saw the Maiden Doctor from Rhodes Island nod seriously.

"I see. You cast a spell on her with mental suggestion, and you also planted your power as a seed within her body. That explains her strong reaction, because she was affected by both your and my power at the same time, and coupled with the... unfriendly treatment she received these past few days, her consciousness was ejected from her body. While embarking on some unique adventure, her spirit, now without the protection of her physical body, is being gradually eroded by your power."

She tilted her head and smoothed the ends of her pale purple hair. Her beautiful eyebrows were slightly raised.

"No, that's not right. It's not that her spirit is being eroded by your power, but rather that her spirit is actively and cooperatively adapting to your power. Just like a pet's neck adapting to a new collar."

"It's a coincidence, a coincidence pieced together from multiple possibilities. I can tell you with absolute certainty that this type of Originium Arts doesn't exist in this world— Amiya can't do it either. Even if she can read memories, even if she can erase or even weave memories later, she can't make other people's minds actively adapt to the magic she casts. Because..."

She went on and on about a lot of complicated and incomprehensible principles. Finally, she summarized the current situation.

"This poor little guy is going to become your dog, Surtr ... Is this one of your special interests? If so, I have some fun things I can do with you."

Miss Surtr felt it was best not to respond to that.

Although she didn't know why, perhaps because she didn't quite understand the rest of the conversation, she felt it was best not to do that.

So she turned her gaze back to Ludmila.

"So, this girl is having a nightmare right now? How can we wake her up?"

"Haven't you ever dreamed?" Persephone didn't expose her, but simply smiled and let her back down the drain. "Enter her dream, find her, and bring her back. Then she will wake up."

Will there be any long-term effects?

What does "aftereffects" refer to?

"Everything negative... no, everything that will have an effect on her," Miss Surtr emphasized. "An effect that will have an effect on her."

"She's now actively adapting to your power and will have a great fondness for you. If you go in to save her, no matter how careful you are, your presence will completely overwhelm her mind—and she'll become your follower, a fanatical worshipper." Persephone tilted his head slightly. "Or to be more precise, your dog."

"..." The topic ended up coming full circle again.

"So I can't go there myself right now?" But Miss Surtr made a second effort to steer the conversation away from the 'dog'.

"Hmm, no. If you don't intend to have any impact on her, then you can't." The Maiden Doctor turned her head and waved her hand. The aircraft that had been hovering in mid-air then slowly descended.

"You can't do this, so I have to do it. And even if you could, I wouldn't recommend you do it."

A subtle smile appeared on her lips.

"Do you think that the Star Evolution that Skadi mentioned uses this principle of power to erode and assimilate warriors whose pure combat strength far surpasses theirs?"

Miss Surtr returned to Chernobog alone.

Persephone didn't return with her. According to the Maiden Doctor, she would be spending considerable time researching the peculiar phenomenon occurring on Miss Ludmila —which she called 'Erosion.' It was a very strange way of operating. According to her, that power could transcend all defenses of will, magic, and knowledge to permanently alter the spirit of a particular life form.

That's terrifying.

What's even more terrifying is that she had just told Surtr about Star Transformation when this phenomenon occurred right beside her.

Is it a coincidence? Or is someone just incredibly lucky?

Either way, the situation isn't good—at least it doesn't seem good to her.

So she decided to put aside some of her work and focus on dealing with this unexpected incident— Ludmila had been taken back to a secret research base that only Surtr could find, and she promised Miss Surtr that she would make sure the Lupo was soon lively and healthy again.

"I have a feeling there's a big problem," Miss Surtr thought.

She stopped briefly at the already-open market, bought a gift, and booked home delivery. Then, she returned to her principal's office building, feeling troubled and confused.

The building was quiet; there was no one else, nor any drones flying around. The only living thing in the entire elegant courtyard was her breathing. So she sat alone on the spacious sofa in the hall, and then hugged her sword.

—This world seems to be getting more and more complicated.

—So many things to consider, so many things to think about, weave a fine web, making it hard for me to move, leaving me bound and restricted. Before, I could simply barge into Ludmila's dream and drag her out. Before, I could head straight to Iberia and find those so-called secret societies and wipe them all out. Before...

—I wasn't always so hesitant, Laevateinn. Before, my only concern was putting down any other bladed weapon I had to touch within seconds.

The sword emanated a warm sensation, calming her restless thoughts. The series of setbacks of the past half-day— Teyvat, Skadi, and Ludmila —had left her in a very bad state of mind; she desperately needed some combat, some catharsis, to clear her head. But beyond catharsis, the sword's comfort might be even more effective for her.

—If only I could take Laevateinn with me when I go to the Dream World.

The thought that had appeared in her mind countless times silently surfaced again, but just like countless times before, she could only think about it—the sense of frustration seemed to deepen slightly. However, only the frustration deepened; the distracting thoughts that had been affecting her thinking disappeared completely.

She thought for a moment, then turned on the PRTS terminal and projected the light onto her retina—the greeting emails that she had previously blocked were opened one by one, and she responded to each one according to the sender.

Many of them were people she knew, colleagues from the Sarkaz Babel Tower era. When responding to them, be friendly. Use gentler words. Because that's what friends are for—perhaps.

Many of them were people she knew, operators from the Rhodes Island era, most of whom had been serving in recent years and whom she hadn't met during the Sarkaz Babel Tower era. For those she knew through her past life's gaming experiences, her language was slightly more formulaic, professional, and calm. This was to create a good first impression—probably.

She carefully edited each message and sent them one by one. Then...

... not a single reply.

There was no reply from former colleagues, nor from new colleagues.

It's a bit awkward.

She thought she would always have some connections. But it seems everyone is very busy with work these days.

So she put down the terminal and leaned back on the sofa—to think.

The content of thinking is not thinking about anything.

Because she doesn't feel that there's anything she can do right now.