A Flurry of Moves That Looks Impressive

Five minutes ago—

Kal'tsit opened her eyes to a dark, desolate ruin—the city was built deep underground, with thick layers of rock above and dark, fiery earth below. In the leaping shadows, grotesque stone statues with enormous wings loomed in and out of sight.

This is not Terra.

This is not Chernobog.

Am I hallucinating? Or am I dreaming?

Bending down to touch the ground beneath my feet—the texture of the dust and stone chips was so clear. But sensing my own interior, the crystalline formations that had been born with me seemed to be in a strange state.

"Mon3tr, come out."

She said.

Her spine split open, and a dark green, crystalline dragon-like creature emerged—her creation, her half-body. It was the power and means she used to protect herself. She knew the entire internal structure of this crystalline dragon-serpent, and knew it possessed considerable intelligence and was connected to her will.

But now—

She raised her hand and touched Mon3tr's angular, crystalline head—the once lively half-body now appeared dull and lifeless—no, more than that. It was simply an empty shell. And her will could easily inhabit it!

"Mon3tr's consciousness... has vanished. So, this isn't reality after all."

Kal'tsit's thoughts raced, and the dark green dragon-serpent creation deftly lashed its limbs, tearing multiple cracks in the ground—had it gone bad? No, in terms of controllability, it had actually improved. In the past, although Mon3tr resided within her spine and obeyed her commands, it was ultimately a creation with its own will, occasionally prone to whimsical ideas. In the past, she could only control it like a skilled beast tamer. But now...

'Hiss—hiss—'

The dark green dragon-like creature circled her once. Its segments scraped against the ground, contorting its limbs into various difficult and bizarre movements—she could share the senses of this wondrous creation, perceiving the tremors beneath the earth and peering into the dark underground environment. She discovered that this was the ruins of an ancient city, entirely unlike any civilization on Terra, and the remaining traces of burning on the ground proved that the city had recently been the site of a battle.

She looked up—her shared senses, her half-body, looked up. At the edge of her vision, she saw a temple with obvious signs of recent renovation.

There should be people living there.

—Illusions can't create things I don't know, unless I'm in someone else's dream—but my last memory is of the emergency room in Chernobog. Persephone performed the surgery on me...let's leave that gloomy woman aside for now. But Surtr is also in Chernobog.

—Rhodes Island will be here soon. She promised to return to Rhodes Island, so she definitely won't leave early. Therefore, she's definitely in Chernobog, and I should wake up in two or three days at most after the main Rhodes Island ship arrives... I'm safe; no one can kidnap me from the city where Surtr is. And my memories...

She pressed her temples and used psychoanalysis, a method often used by medical experts, to sort out her cognition and memory.

—The ability to identify is correct, and there are no signs of memory gaps.

—I wasn't kidnapped, nor did I lose my memory. I was directly transported to this place from within Chernobog. Considering Mon3tr's loss of consciousness, the possibility is very small.

"Either that gloomy woman is plotting against me, or my will has fallen into the realm of consciousness."

She murmured to herself and took a step toward the temple that was emitting a faint light in the distance.

She knew what the Imperial Consciousness was, though not as bizarrely as Persephone's near-omniscient knowledge. But she at least understood many of the secrets of Terra. And since she already had her own prejudices, she naturally dismissed all other conjectures.

—To escape the Imperial Consciousness, one needs to find a suitable logout point. Just as the Aegir used esoteric methods to construct a 'gate'.

—If this is an environment or a dream, then I must interact with the intellectual structure here enough to find a way out.

—Is that all I can go? Damn it... If only Surtr could notice something was wrong with me.

With each step, the sound of crushed stone chips was clear and echoed crisply within the underground cavity.

She walked forward, but after only a few steps, her mood turned somber again amidst the crisp echo.

—Surtr won't find out. Although I probably hadn't messed things up the last time we met, before that... she'd probably be angry with me.

Why can't I control my hands and mouth? I so desperately want to hold his hand, kiss him, and tell him how much I love him. It's strange, how can someone like me be so infatuated with a person of the same sex from another race? When did I become like this?

—Was it when she descended from the sky and saved me from the brink of death?

—It was when I was tidying up her room, on that bed that still carried her scent, that I couldn't help myself?

—It was just an ordinary afternoon, a common morning. I was carrying documents as I walked down the corridor when she came towards me, smiling, helping me with the documents, giving me some snacks she'd made herself, and saying, "Is there anything I can help you with, Kal'tsit? I can solve anything for you."

My steps became heavy, and the air seemed to become oppressive and cold.

What's the point of thinking about this now? The Surtr of the Sarkaz Babel Tower era is fundamentally different from the Surtr of today. She's become kinder, more approachable, and capable of love and hate. But because of this, she's also begun to express liking or dislike for certain people or things. And herself...

—Back then, I decided to wear this mask that I can't seem to take off now because I saw so many people who clung to her end up disappointed. Was it to interact with her in a way that was different from everyone else, hoping to get a lucky outcome?

She wanted to convince herself of this, but she knew that such a reason was meaningless.

It didn't exist in the past, and it doesn't exist now.

But--

Kal'tsit looked up, and her shared Mon3tr senses told her she was being watched—she saw a silver-haired woman in a long black ceremonial dress standing at the temple entrance at the far end of her line of sight. The woman, with her noble bearing, wore an exquisitely crafted mask that concealed her eyes.

She's waiting for me; she's looking for me.

—She knew I would come.

—Who is she? She doesn't possess any characteristics of Ancients; perhaps she belongs to a race with more subtle traits. Perhaps... indeed, this matter is related to that gloomy woman? Persephone, what do you intend to do to my consciousness?

Thoughts flashed rapidly through her mind—she noticed that her thinking had become incredibly sharp and clear. It was as if she had broken free from the constraints of her physical body and was traversing the realm of consciousness solely as a spirit. This realization further solidified her previous conjectures.

Words slipped out, and his gaze turned cold and sharp.

"Who are you? What is your purpose?" she questioned, filled with suspicion about everything before her.

"You may call me the Fire Keeper, a guest from afar."

"Fire Keeper?" — Kal'tsit knew that name.

Of course she knew, because no matter how busy she was, she would always take the time to repeatedly browse and review all the documents related to Surtr. Before she fell into a coma, Persephone had already created encrypted documents of Surtr's two dream world explorations and placed them in the core database of PRTS, and she naturally read every word several times.

"So, you mean this is the Dream Realm?" Kal'tsit's heart skipped a beat.

"Your comprehension is excellent, guest." The silver-haired woman who called herself the Fire Keeper bowed slightly to her chest. "Please come with me. The lady is still unconscious; you can wait for her with me in the temple."

"Miss?"

"Yes, Miss Surtr —she likes me to call her that. And you, like the previous Miss Yelena, must also come from that land called Terra."

"..." Kal'tsit did not answer.

Her face remained calm, but her heart was in turmoil.

—You're lying! You're lying!