Creak—
Aventurine gently opened the door for Yan Huan.
"Come in, Mr. Yan Huan. I'm certain you've never heard this particular piece of information before."
Yan Huan followed Aventurine into the guest room.
Dream Bubbles filled the room, and the concentration of Memoria was extremely high.
Aventurine waved a hand, dispersing some of the Dream Bubbles, then led Yan Huan farther inside.
"..."
The room was utterly silent.
A familiar figure lay motionless in the Dream Pool, unconscious.
Dark purple cracks still marred her body.
"Hm?"
The next instant, Robin's body dissolved into Memoria and vanished before Yan Huan's eyes.
Aventurine smiled faintly.
"Mr. Yan Huan, that wasn't someone simply logging off."
"That was... death."
"Real death... in a dream."
Meanwhile.
The Golden Hour.
Sunday stood on a skybridge, gazing at the Grand Theater suspended high above.
His hands were clasped behind his back, his brow faintly furrowed.
Robin's voice came from behind him.
"Brother, I'm back."
At the sound of her voice, Sunday slowly turned and smiled warmly.
"...Welcome back."
"How are the preparations for your performance?"
"Going well. Don't worry." Robin gave him a gentle smile.
"Going well?"
Sunday frowned slightly and shook his head.
"That won't do."
"You're The Family's pride. Don't let unnecessary emotions disturb the perfection of your voice."
Robin lowered her head.
"I... know."
Then she looked up at Sunday.
"Brother, you seem a little down... What happened?"
"Is it because of the guests who received invitations from the Clockmaker?"
Sunday turned his back to Robin and gazed once more at the distant Grand Theater overhead. His voice grew grave.
"Yes. I received a report..."
"Death has taken some of them."
"Perhaps at someone's bidding..."
"Ah." Sunday glanced back at Robin, apologetic.
"I'm sorry."
"I forgot you'd only just returned. You probably haven't