Golden Hour.
Old Yang and Acheron continued their conversation after moving elsewhere.
"Even after such a horrifying tragedy, this Dreamscape still runs like clockwork." Looking at the bustling cityscape of the Dreamscape at night, Old Yang seemed somewhat moved.
"Other than the Family of Harmony, it's hard to imagine any force in the universe capable of maintaining such an enormous structure."
"The Family itself is an enormous, perfect structure, like... a living statue of a god," Acheron said. "Every Family member sees themselves as a piece of that divine body. Around a single core-the Aeon-and a shared ideal-Harmony-they faithfully perform their duties under Their command, giving of themselves while also receiving Their sustenance."
"An interesting analogy. Perhaps that is the foundation that allows Penacony's Dreamscape to endure," Old Yang said.
"But the human body's time must eventually come. So must that of a divine body."
"That doesn't sound like a comment a Galaxy Ranger would make."
"I'm merely pointing out a fact. You must understand its implications better than I do, Mr. Welt."
"What makes you say that, Miss Acheron?" Old Yang looked at Acheron.
"The Dreamscape is collapsing, but not because of any Aeon, faction, or particular visitor. Its collapse stems from something inevitable in human nature. The Family refuses to acknowledge this, yet has unwittingly become a catalyst instead..."
Acheron quietly watched the Dreamscape painted by the Family before her and said calmly:
"When people let their minds sink into a Dreamscape that demands no price, contains no pain, and offers only comfort and pleasure, they draw ever closer to necrosis. Whatever paradise they believe they inhabit, death remains an unalterable end.
"And this necrosis spreads and proliferates. The mutation of one piece of the puzzle will eventually cause the entire structure to shake, shatter... collapse."
"In the