After that, time flowed by quietly.
Scepter δ-me13 - [ Tomb of the Nameless Titan ], accompanied by Demiurge, I finished my milk tea for the day, Cyrene appeared here once again.
"Hmm... Curiosity..."
Cyrene tilted her head slightly, as if trying to catch the invisible ripples in the air, her small nostrils twitching gently.
"Although I still can't see it, I have a very strong feeling..."
She paused, a hint of gentle confusion in her voice. "Have you... grown up?"
In this great tomb, Cyrene could not visualize Demiurge's current appearance with her eyes, but through countless cycles of companionship, she had developed a spiritual understanding of this 'special being'.
How should I put it...? I feel like she's grown up? Grows taller? And there's a strange sense of familiarity about her.
Standing before Cyrene at this moment was not Demiurge in her pink fairy form, but someone with an exquisite face identical to hers—a face as white as the moon and slightly upturned cherry lips.
Her long, pink hair cascaded down to her waist, contrasting with her pristine white priest's robe. The hem of the robe was meticulously embroidered with flowing [∞]-shaped runes, the silver threads intertwined like a vortex of time and space, shimmering with a faint blue light under the sun.
Those lively elf ears were still her most striking feature, but unlike the petite and delicate girl Cyrene, Demiurge's figure exuded a budding elegance.
In addition, she wore an ∞-shaped hair ornament in her hair, resembling the solidified trajectory of a star.
The bracelet on her wrist is adorned with a small milk tea pendant, and the cup shimmers with amber liquid, as if it were a drink favored by a deity.
These seemingly casual ornaments are actually marks cultivated by the gods, adding a touch of humanity to [ Eternity ].
"Good."
In the distance, Ye Yan, seated atop the concept, nodded slightly, a wisp of stardust swirling around his fingertips, silently giving Demiurge a thought of approval.
Hi~
The sound of Demiurge drifted over, carrying a lighthearted melody that seemed to be an attempt to imitate, yet still tinged with the awkwardness of a beginner learning a language:
"Did you miss me...♪" She unconsciously twirled the end of her loose pink hair with her fingers.
"I feel like you've gained a bit more maturity," Cyrene said with a smile.
"Yes. Mature. Beautiful." Demiurge nodded earnestly, "That's us."
She took a light step forward, and the [Infinity] runes on her robes rippled slightly.
"Now, I can be obedient, speak, read, write, dance, and sing."
"I can also tell stories. Being able to tell stories is what makes [ Cyrene ]."
She suddenly turned around, her skirt tracing a graceful arc, and sat lightly on the ground with her back to Cyrene, patting the empty seat beside her:
"So today, I'm going to tell you a story too. A story I wrote myself. Please sit down♪"
"For a moment, I think I could understand what you were saying. They were all very cute remarks."
Cyrene slowly sat down beside Demiurge, her fingertips able to faintly feel the cool fabric of the robe. She sighed, "It's been such a long time... but it's not enough."
Once upon a time, there was a flawless crystal flower, sparkling brightly, like every story of Peaches.
Demiurge cleared his throat, placed his hands on his knees, and assumed a storytelling posture, his tone becoming ethereal and dreamlike.
"Such a beautiful flower, how beautiful must its heart be?" A little fairy Curiosity, wanting to know the answer.
"But as it looked and looked, it discovered that the crystal flower was flawless; going around and around, it could only see its own reflection."
"In that case, let's study hard!" Demiurge's tone suddenly brightened. "So the little fairy came every day, stood by the crystal flower, and pondered the answer."
"Until one day, it was astonished to discover that the crystal flower had fallen to the ground and shattered!"
"The little fairy was very sad. But it immediately noticed a ball of light in the fragment. What was it? It didn't know."
Her voice softened, carrying a resolute gentleness, and the milk tea pendant on her wrist swayed gently with her movements:
"But that light was good. Bright. Warm. Happy."
Love unites all things, including you and me. Therefore, Peaches and I will never be apart.
"What a fairytale story." Cyrene's voice carried a hint of laughter, but also a barely perceptible sigh.
I'll give it to you.
Demiurge reached out and cautiously, tentatively, touched the back of Cyrene's hand, then quickly withdrew it. " Peaches loves beauty, can write poetry, and can tell beautiful stories."
"I hope to turn it into a story we write together."
"Okay." Cyrene nodded, a gentle yet slightly complicated expression on her face. "Then, according to my aesthetic sense, I'll probably make a small modification."
"I think that on the day the flower shatters, the little fairy will see an empty ground, with nothing there."
"Then it will understand that the flawless crystal flower has neither a heart nor the ability to love."
These words were like a pebble thrown into still water, leaving Demiurge stunned for a moment, her cherry lips slightly parted, her eyes filled with confusion:
"No heart or love? Why?"
"It's very simple. If it opens its heart to the fairy, it will embrace the fairy's impurities and become no longer [flawless]."
"The crystal flower is pure because it closes itself off and blooms in solitude. That's why it shines so brightly in an imperfect world."
"But such a flower shouldn't be called 'love,' right?"
Demiurge stood up, her wide priestly robes drooping. She reached out her hand to Cyrene, her fingertips trembling slightly. "But then the story wouldn't make sense..."
"No. You've already written the most Romance ending to this story."
Cyrene slowly stood up as well. Despite the endless darkness before her, she raised her hand with remarkable precision, her slender fingertips exploring the air before finally gently covering Demiurge's outstretched palm.
The moment their palms touched, it felt as if an invisible current flowed between them.
[The crystal flower fell to the ground and shattered.]
"Because it is no longer pure. The fall is not an accident, but its struggle against fate, writing the ending of the story with its brokenness."
"Then the little goblin saw that every single shard on the ground reflected his own eyes."
"And in its eyes, the crystal flower, no longer flawless, finally had a heart and Guild to love."
As soon as she finished speaking, Cyrene's body suddenly became transparent, like dust blown away by the wind, or like a handful of shattered glass, instantly turning into countless sparkling points of light, silently dissipating into the air.
Demiurge's outstretched hand remained futilely suspended in the air, the palm that had touched Cyrene still retaining a faint warmth.
Her knees buckled, and she slowly knelt on the cold ground, her long pink hair spreading out like a sorrowful stream.
Those eyes, which once sparkled with confusion and expectation, now held only immense bewilderment and emptiness, reflecting the void:
"I don't understand what Peaches is saying."
She murmured to herself, her fingers unconsciously gripping the robe at her chest, where the [∞] rune embroidered remained cold and unchanging.
"Is it because I haven't understood [love] yet?"