At last, the two found a huge, somber-toned mural at the end of the corridor.
At the center of the mural was a vicious rift. Countless pale hands reached toward it from every direction, as if trying to forcibly tear it open. The image was filled with unease and longing.
"Is this it? An entrance?" Firefly asked, pointing at the mural, uncertainty in her voice.
Dahlia shook her head and examined the mural carefully.
"It is merely disguised as an entrance."
"This rift does not lead elsewhere. It is a lock of Remembrance. And the key is a Light Cone carrying specific memories."
"Clearly, Gofemwood received help from a Memokeeper—the Light Cone is not in our hands. It seems we may have to leave empty-handed." She spread her hands, seeming somewhat regretful.
"There is absolutely no other way?" Firefly looked at her, unwilling to give up.
Dahlia looked around again, her gaze sweeping over every detail of the corridor like the most precise scanner.
"We can try our luck. Perhaps the Memokeeper who assisted Gofemwood has habits similar to mine." She smiled faintly, and there was something subtle about that smile.
"I'll look around. Don't get your hopes up." She began wandering nearby in what seemed like a casual manner, her fingertips occasionally brushing over the walls or floor as though sensing something.
Eventually, she stopped beside the dusty stairs leading to the upper floor. Bending down, she used her fingers clad in sheer gloves to pick an extremely tiny object out of an almost invisible crack.
She raised it before her eyes, the corner of her lips curling upward.
"...How careless. It really does resemble an old friend's handiwork."
"Looks like we are lucky. Their [backup measure] really is nearby." There was a hint of pride in her tone.