Unexpected News of Death

In a corner on the first floor, the Rover drew back the dark blue curtain.

She had just rested in bed for a while.

For a resonance user of her caliber, the body doesn't need rest at all; sleep is simply a way to relax the mind.

The Rover walked to the window and pushed it open a crack.

The sudden blizzard outside had quietly subsided at some point.

A huge crack appeared in the gray clouds, and dawn broke over the Royan Frostlands.

Sunlight shone on the pure white snow, reflecting a dazzling light.

The entire snowfield was very quiet, so quiet that it seemed as if yesterday's blizzard was just an illusion.

The Rover poured himself a glass of warm water and glanced up at the stairs leading to the second floor.

There was only one curtain there, just like before.

The entire second floor was quiet; there was no sound of conversation except for faint, deliberately suppressed sobs that drifted down the stairs intermittently.

The Rover frowned slightly, put down his water glass, and walked lightly up the stairs, gently lifting the curtain on the second floor.

The already small second-floor space did not contain Lu Yan, who was wearing only thin pajamas.

On that single bed by the window, only Little Aemeath was there.

The little girl with long pink hair was tightly hugging a thick blanket, curling herself up into a small ball.

Her eyes were terribly red and swollen, and tears streamed down her cheeks like broken beads, silently landing on the blanket.

Little Aemeath clutched the blue-pink gradient amulet tightly in her hand, as if it were her last reliance in this world.

The Rover's gaze swept around the room, but there were no traces, nor any fluctuations indicating that the space had been broken open by external force.

Lu Yan vanished into thin air, leaving not even a trace of his Frequency.

"He's gone?" The Rover walked to the bedside.

Upon hearing the Rover's voice, Little Aemeath trembled.

She lifted her pale, tear-streaked face, her eyes filled with terror and helplessness.

"He... he's gone..." Little Aemeath sobbed, her voice hoarse and heartbreaking. "When I woke up, the room next to me was empty... and the hem of my clothes was gone too..."

"I was definitely holding on... holding it very, very tightly..."

Last night, she clearly clung tightly to the hem of that warm older brother's clothes, listening to his steady heartbeat before falling asleep.

But when she woke up, she had nothing in her hands.

The Rover fell silent.

The report that the Shorekeeper had sent through the Tethys System the previous night instantly flashed into her mind.

[He exhibited a strong rejection reaction, his condition was extremely unstable, and he could disappear at any moment due to exhaustion of his Frequency.]

"So 'disappearing at any time' refers to complete evaporation in a physical sense?" the Rover sighed inwardly.

A Frequency without a physical form, having exhausted its energy and unable to sustain its existence, can only meet one fate.

In Solaris, exhausting one's Frequency is equivalent to death.

Looking at Little Aemeath, who was crying so hard she could barely breathe, the Rover felt a strange pang of pity.

She was completely inept at handling such situations, let alone at using sweet talk to deceive a little girl.

She was already used to facing the harsh truth.

The Rover crouched down, reached out, and somewhat awkwardly ruffled Little Aemeath's pink hair a couple of times.

"Don't cry," the Rover tried to soften his voice.

"His Frequency was extremely weak, yet he forcibly endured the extreme cold of the ice field and the low temperature of the lake water. He... probably couldn't hold on any longer and dissipated."

To dispel the little girl's hopeless thoughts, the Rover used a term most commonly found in Solaris to explain this phenomenon:

He's dead.

These three words were like a cold icicle, instantly piercing through the fragile sense of security that Little Aemeath had just built up.

"No! He's not dead! He said he wouldn't leave!"

Little Aemeath shook her head violently and cried even more heartbreakingly.

She couldn't believe that the older brother who sang to her and had such a reassuring scent about him had disappeared forever.

The Rover sighed helplessly and simply sat down on the edge of the bed, letting the little girl vent her emotions.

"Listen, once you've calmed down, I'll send you back to Glimmering Forest. You're a child of the Lahai-Roi; that's your home." The Rover tried to change the subject.

However, upon hearing the words "Glimmering Forest, "Little Aemeath cried even harder.

"I'm not going back! I don't want to go back to Glimmering Forest!"

The Rover frowned. "Why? Glimmering Forest is the settlement of the Lahai-Roi. It has a warm climate and loving people; everyone is like one big family."

"There's no threat of Lament there, nor the bitter cold of the ice fields. Why would you rather freeze on the ice fields than go home?"

Little Aemeath gripped the amulet tightly, her little hands turning white from the force.

Tears streamed down her face, and her voice carried a stubbornness beyond her years:

"Because... because it's so warm there..."

The Rover was stunned; she couldn't understand this logic at all.

"My mom and dad had an accident on the snowfield..." Little Aemeath sobbed, intermittently revealing the deepest fear in her heart.

"These past few days, I've felt my memories of my parents fading... It's like the world is forcing me to forget them."

"Everyone in Glimmering Forest was so kind to me, but... but if I go back there, back to that warm and safe place, I'll remember even less the warmth of my parents' last embrace."

"I don't want to go back... I'm afraid that if I leave this snowfield, they will truly disappear from this world forever. I want to stay here, in the place where they were last seen, to be with them..."

These words shocked the usually calm and rational Rover.

Looking at the little girl in front of her, who was shivering from the cold but stubbornly wanted to remember the pain with her body, she felt the weight of fate.

She finally understood that what the child was resisting was not the Glimmering Forest, but the oblivion ultimately caused by the Lament.

In the end, the Rover compromised.

"Alright, alright, I won't send you back for now. You can stay here until you've thought it through."