Black Fortress.
On the bed, Black String Moon still lay with her eyes tightly closed. She was like a sleeping beauty, beautiful without the slightest flaw.
Yet the hand clasped tightly in Lynn's tightened unconsciously, as though a sliver of wakefulness lingered in her dreams.
And on the monitor tracking her mental state...
The consciousness on the verge of annihilation finally, miraculously stopped just as it was about to hit rock bottom.
"It... it stopped!"
Madam Doll and her daughters all stared urgently at the scene.
Death was no longer spreading.
The collapse of her surface consciousness also halted at that moment, as though something were growing wildly. That fierce desire to live was like a sprout growing at a frantic pace, reaching out from the distant past to shore up, step by step, her entire future after her fall.
And in the Sea of Loss beneath the ice...
Sir Awen stared blankly at all those changes.
Those distorted subconscious impressions, clinging like tentacles and tumors to the lowest depths of her Spirit World, actually began to glow at that moment. Like new life emerging from a cocoon, they gradually turned into green vines, blossoming with delicate buds amid that numb past.
He reached out.
He caught the drifting petals.
At that moment, the corners of his mouth finally curved slightly, and he gently closed his hand.
Because he had sensed the change in her fixation.
He raised his head, his eyes full of wistfulness.
"It looks like you were right."
He had not changed her past.
He had merely given her a future, planting a sliver of hope in those devastated memories and raising a torch for her in the darkness.
And perhaps sometimes, all it really took was a glimmer of light.
That alone could let the figure