Even if only the last shred of clarity remained.
Some things still had to be done.
Some things could never be covered up.
Elsewhere.
Black Fu Hua walked with unsteady steps, seemingly without purpose.
Yet the image of that phantom kept circling in her mind.
Though constrained by her power, it acted with a will of its own.
That feeling grew ever stronger.
As though the soul residing on the feather's tip existed just as truly as she did.
Even... more vividly than she did.
"Did I give it too much?"
"What did I create it for in the first place?"
The answer pierced the fog like a blade.
In that moment on the brink of death.
To preserve a sliver of hope amid despair.
She had burned through almost everything she had.
"So she's the one... made of flesh and blood."
Black Fu Hua turned around.
Her gaze fell on that illusory figure.
The phantom of the Feather of Yu Duchen stood there.
Her body was translucent, her edges faintly glowing.
But at that moment, she seemed weightier and more real than everything around her.
By contrast, the so-called reality surrounding them seemed like bubbles that would burst at a touch.
That familiar voice in her mind had been silent for a long time.
Now, it abruptly cut in.
"Go and 'take' her back."
The suggestion sounded tempting.
It could even be called the best solution.
But it went against her principles.
Black Fu Hua pressed her lips together, her gaze wandering.
"If I did that... she'd be gone for good."
Silence spread through the air.
A few seconds later, she tossed out an irrelevant question, trying to change the subject.
"How strange. It's been a long time since I last 'talked' to myself."
The response in her mind