In the System Space, Cyrene walked aimlessly.
Since being partially rescued by Madam Herta and gaining the freedom to move within this domain, she had been filled with curiosity about everything.
Here, there were only sparsely distributed "facilities" with various functions.
She had just bid farewell to Anaxa, who was trying to deal with the other Golden Descendants (Anaxa seemed to be getting a headache from Cipher's influence and Tribbie's noise), and was exploring alone.
Then, her gaze was drawn to something ahead that completely clashed with the surrounding minimalist style.
It looked like a classical and magnificent architectural complex.
Towering colonnades, spiraling staircases, and the outlines of countless closed or slightly ajar doorways shimmered faintly within flowing bands of light, giving off a feeling that was both... solemn and familiar.
(What is this place?)
The curiosity in Cyrene's heart overcame her caution.
She couldn't help but move a few steps closer, extending her slender finger, wanting to touch the outermost layer of flowing light membrane.
The moment her fingertip made contact, there was no resistance, no sound.
Immediately afterward, a dizzying sense of weightlessness seized her. The pure white background seemed to be violently erased by an eraser, and countless pieces of information flooded in.
"Ah!"
Cyrene let out a soft cry and subconsciously closed her eyes.
When she opened her eyes again, she found herself standing in the middle of a wide corridor.
Under her feet was a dark stone floor with natural patterns, and the walls on both sides were carved with intricate and unfamiliar designs. Wall sconces emitting a soft, warm light were embedded in the walls at regular intervals.
(Wh-where is this place?)
Cyrene was instantly flustered, her azure eyes filled with bewilderment.
She had only intended to look at that strange "building," so how did she suddenly... teleport inside?
Moreover, she couldn't find the "entrance" she came through; all around her were similar corridors and closed doors.
(Calm down... Cyrene, calm down.)
She took several deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart.
During the long years of the Golden Descendants, the most important thing she had learned was to maintain inner peace, even when faced with a desperate situation.
She tentatively walked forward a few steps. Her footsteps echoed slightly in the empty corridor, adding to the sense of isolation.
Just as she was hesitating about which way to go, clear footsteps sounded from around the corner of the corridor ahead.
Someone!
Cyrene immediately stopped, looking nervously toward the source of the sound.
Was it the owner of this place? Would they be friendly? Or... A figure turned the corner.
It was a young man.
He had a slender build and soft, grayish-green short hair.
Most striking were the dark, curved horns growing from the sides of his forehead.
He was wearing stylish black and green clothing. His face was expressionless, his eyes calm, even carrying a sense of detachment inappropriate for his age.
Kosma had just finished a period of solitude and was planning to go to the Central Hall, but he didn't expect to run into a pink-haired girl in the corridor.
Their eyes met, and both froze.
Kosma's pupils contracted slightly.
(...Elysia?)
No, that wasn't right.
Her figure was smaller, and her demeanor was completely different.
The girl before him had soft pink short hair framing her cheeks, and her azure eyes were like those of a startled fawn, showing pure confusion, completely lacking Elysia's characteristic poise.
She wore a simple dress, and her entire presence exuded a fragile beauty.
But the contours of her face, her hair color, and her eye color were far too similar.
Cyrene felt a little self-conscious under his silent scrutiny, but the other party didn't seem malicious.
Gathering her courage, she offered a tentative smile:
"Um... h-hello? I am Cyrene."
When the voice reached Kosma's ears, the sense of incongruity in his heart deepened.
(Her voice is also... too similar. It's almost like Elysia lowered her pitch and deliberately faked a timid tone.)
Under his calm expression, the corner of Kosma's mouth twitched ever so slightly.
(What is she trying to do?)
This was the first thought that popped into Kosma's mind.
Recently, abnormal situations in the new district of the Paradise have been springing up endlessly.
Now, is she playing a new "role-playing" game?
Shrinking herself, changing into clothes that look more "harmless," and pretending to be a lost, unfamiliar girl?
("Cyrene"...)
Kosma silently recited the name in his mind.
(Indeed... very much her style. Pleasant to hear, and with a touch of fantasy.)
Kosma felt a bit helpless.
He was naturally quiet and not good at handling overly complex social interactions, especially when the other party was Elysia, who could easily disrupt anyone's rhythm.
He could probably guess that if he acted as if he "recognized her" or "saw through her" right now, he would likely be dragged into a more troublesome, improvised "plot" by her.
(Sigh...)
He sighed silently in his heart.
(Since she wants to play... I'll just cooperate. Hopefully, it won't be too much trouble.)
Having made up his mind, Kosma maintained his taciturn appearance.
He didn't respond to Cyrene's greeting, merely looking at her calmly with his teal eyes, as if waiting for her to continue.
Seeing that the other person wasn't speaking but just staring at her, Cyrene felt even more uncertain, but she braced herself and continued to ask, "Excuse me... do you know how to get out of here? I think I'm... lost."
("Lost"... that's a good opening.)
Kosma thought, becoming even more convinced that this was Elysia's "script."
He paused to think, then raised his hand and silently pointed in the other direction of the corridor.
Seeing that the other person had given instructions—though still silent, they were clearly helping—Cyrene immediately relaxed and flashed a genuine, grateful smile: "Thank you! Thank you very much!"
After thanking him again, she quickly walked in the direction Kosma had pointed. Her pink hair swayed gently with her movement, and she soon disappeared around the end of the corridor.
Kosma stood in place, watching "Elysia" playing "Cyrene" leave. He only withdrew his gaze once her figure had completely vanished.
(She's... quite committed to the role.)
He shook his head, stopped thinking about it, and turned to walk toward his original destination—the Central Hall.
Before he even got close, the sound of vibrant, dynamic music was already reaching him.
As he passed through the last section of the cloister and stepped into the spacious Central Hall, the familiar dynamic music instantly enveloped him.
The lights were still dazzling and changing, and the figure dancing freely to the beat in the center of the dance floor—her smile radiant and her long pink hair flying—who else could it be but Elysia?
And she was wearing those pink star-shaped sunglasses.
Kosma's footsteps halted abruptly, and his eyes instantly widened.
(...?)
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