Today Is a Good Day (Continued)

There were no remains, suggesting that the observers had successfully evacuated when the Catastrophe struck.

She walked into the inner part of the observation station, and no illusions or fragments of memory appeared in the depths of her mind.

This is just an ordinary place.

It's very common and can be seen everywhere.

A feeling of 'disappointment' welled up in the girl's heart—she wasn't quite sure why she felt this way. But she didn't really want to erase it either.

—I have a feeling that today is a special day.

—But it doesn't seem to be a solar term, and I don't recall any anniversaries recently. Could it be someone's birthday? No, I don't remember anyone having this birthday.

—It's so strange... why do I feel so confused and bewildered?

Her fingertips brushed across the decaying long table, and the table and the scattered documents on its surface turned to dust—nothing special, no hidden secrets. This was just an ordinary observation post.

But she was disappointed—she wanted to encounter a powerful monster here. She wanted to uncover some hidden secrets. She wanted to savor an ancient legend—a certain impulse stirred within her, urging her to find something unique and special, something to give as an interesting gift.

Gift...

Why a gift?

Whose gift is this? And who needs this gift?

—Haven't I already made and given away a lot of gifts today?

—Did I miss someone?

Doubt and confusion lingered in her mind. She stomped her foot on the ground, and all the decaying matter turned into dust and was then carried away by the hot wind through the doorway. In the blink of an eye, the abandoned old building was completely cleared away.

There was nothing there.

The only intact thing was a piece of stone that had once been part of the ceiling. And apart from that—no, including that, there was nothing interesting.

So she sat down on the rock, pondered, and waited for the Originium Storm to arrive.

She knew that she could manually conjure storms in the atmosphere if she wanted to. But since Persephone had already made her plans, there was no need to add any more variables.

Think.

Laevateinn radiated warmth, allowing her to place her hand on it.

Keep thinking.

From the start of the Chernobog incident until now, it has only been a little over three days, almost four days. Yet, in this short period, a multitude of events have occurred, each more complex than the last.

—Did I forget something?

Leaving aside the experiences in the dream world, although they had some impact on reality, it wasn't significant—in fact, the fact that Persephone hadn't reported a single bad piece of news so far basically confirmed that the dream world journey had little effect on anyone other than himself. The reason he kept his distance from them was simply due to standard security regulations.

—The people I wanted to save are all alive.

—The people I want to help are all living better lives than before.

—My intervention in this world is not significant... but how much intervention can there be in three or four days? Moreover, I also saved Chernobog from Catastrophe.

—I think I've done pretty well... Aside from some emotional distress caused by the new behavioral patterns, I've done pretty well in every other way.

Can I get a reward?

A strange thought suddenly popped into her mind, but she quickly dismissed it—how old is she? Still acting like a child? Have she been living in the shadows all these years?

I raised my hand, opened PRTS, and the signal on the terminal was empty, so I couldn't find anyone to chat with.

A quick search of the terminal's memory revealed a few games for passing the time—but these games were far too easy for her. She had to blink to catch up to the frame rate, keeping her dynamic vision below the terminal's refresh rate. And whether it was fighting games, trading, or puzzle-solving, these kinds of games, which were easy to understand at a glance, were as simple as eating and drinking for her.

A powerful figure in a fantasy world addicted to video games? — Lies. A champion who has triumphed in countless life-or-death battles would never be interested in pixelated changes controlled by a finger. Such a false victory doesn't even bring her any pleasure, and she has no interest in those easily broken anime series.

He put down the terminal and looked around. Theresia, who had been omnipresent not long ago, was nowhere to be seen—yes, she said she had some personal matters to attend to. And it seemed her personal matters weren't something that could be handled with a mere flick of the finger.

—It's a bit boring.

—But, um... Theresia ... oh right, I forgot to make clothes for Theresia.

Suddenly, a thought flashed through her mind. She felt she had grasped something, and understood the inexplicable confusion and emptiness churning within her— Theresia, there was still Theresia missing. Although Theresia was now dead and busy with things she couldn't easily do, that didn't mean she couldn't handle the situation.

Close your eyes, then open them, and the territory of the Imperial Consciousness lies beneath your feet.

Take a deep breath, and a storm arises, the thick fog being pushed outwards until several square kilometers of unbroken land are revealed.

Then... let's begin forging.

—The dress given to Theresia should not be a light, flowing skirt.

She doesn't need a gown; her battlefield isn't an elegant ball.

—So, I'm going to give her a set of armor.

The ground cracked open as she gazed upon it, and a colossal volcano rose with a roar. The scorching pool of fire was both a furnace and the lifeblood of the earth churning within.

Fire, even more intense fire. Throw Laevateinn into the pool of flames.

The boiling pool of fire turned from bright red to blazing white. The bones and blood of the earth coalesced under the extreme heat—she didn't know the true nature of the metals in the Imperial Consciousness ...it didn't matter. All she needed to know was that whatever it was, as long as it could withstand Laevateinn's forging for a short time, it was a unique, harmless, and precious material.

Burn, then gather.

Using willpower as a restraint, Laevateinn almost completely burned away everything of molten metal within the volcano. The few remaining elements that weren't immediately incinerated became suitable materials for forging armor.

She obtained a mass of metal suspended in mid-air, still glowing white due to the extreme heat.

Then, refinement.

Using imagination as a framework and willpower as the hammer, she easily selected the essence from numerous women's armor designs in her memory to create a style suitable for Theresia. There were no superfluous engravings, no extra cutouts, and no unnecessary exposure of skin. The primary function of armor is protection, and the streamlined structure only emphasizes the embodiment of the concept of 'sanctity'.

"Theresia will love it." She examined her creation, and as it cooled down, an elegant full-body armor, white with dark red accents, came into view. She reached out and tested its strength briefly. "But appearance alone isn't enough."

Miss Surtr whispered, a trickle of blood seeping from her fingertips, and a small section of her loose hair was severed at her will—her blood mingled with the armor, transforming the cold, hard metal into suppleness. The hair slipped into the joint and merged into the metal. In an instant, the hundreds of individual plates of the armor became a seamless whole.

Flawless, amplifying vitality, self-repairing, soul protection—all the legendary defensive artifacts possessed were present in this armor. Faintly, an independent will was even about to emerge from within the armor, making it seem almost alive—but that wouldn't do; the first person the fledgling saw should be its master. So Miss Surtr raised a finger, temporarily halting the birth of this new life.

Interrupt, rather than completely stop.

She needed a messenger, someone who could find Theresia in her place, but not a part of her, and who wouldn't bother Theresia.

And she happened to have the raw materials to create this messenger.

"I'm sorry, W," Miss Surtr said, taking out the scare box W had given her on the rooftop before leaving—she knew this was the Imperial Consciousness. And that was why the scare boxes here were aggregates of concepts, not creations of reality.