"Why are you here?" Phrolova did not answer the statement, directly firing back a question with a vigilant tone.
"Tris"—or rather, the President—let out a soft chuckle. His voice became deep and brimming with temptation: "I promised you that I would let the elegy of the Shores in your heart resonate here, allowing 'us' to obtain a new life."
His words were like a venomous snake flicking its tongue, precisely coiling around Phrolova's deepest obsession.
"The frequencies accumulated within that eye have overwhelmed you. The cries and pleas for help from hundreds and thousands of people echo in your mind every single moment... I know you can endure it; you have done so for hundreds of years."
"A half-Tacet Discord body is neither dead nor alive, and it cannot be defeated by anything, but I do not want your mind to suffer this torment."
The eye? A half-Tacet Discord body that is neither dead nor alive? Does that refer to her bandaged eye? The wails of the dead are constantly tormenting Phrolova? Catching this information, Rover gained a deeper understanding of Phrolova's condition, his heart filling with complex emotions.
The President shifted the conversation, his tone carrying a slight urgency: "However... the situation has changed. After the events at the Seven Hills, Augusta has already taken action... I merely want you to help Christopher complete his plan first, before returning to realize all of this."
Christopher, the Playwright... Their ultimate goal really is... Rover's mind raced, connecting this to the crisis he faced previously at the Seven Hills.
"You see," the President continued persuading her using "Tris's" face, his voice filled with feigned consideration. "The seabed has descended into unexpected chaos. Rushing to call 'us' back at this very moment might not be the best timing."
"Fusing reverberation frequencies into Tacet Discords to allow 'us' to regain physical bodies while preserving our original consciousness... You surely want a more stable, prolonged period of time to meticulously restore 'us' to an even more perfect state, don't you?"
Phrolova fell silent, clearly weighing her options.
The President's rhetoric was highly seductive, painting the possibility of a more "perfect" realization for her.
"...Even if I help you first, Rover will definitely fight with everything he has to stop it."
Phrolova finally spoke, mentioning his name. In the shadows, Rover's heart tightened.
The President let out a low chuckle, as if he had anticipated this all along: "The Shores are currently fusing with you. When you have the ability to open that door, you can try to keep him here with 'us' forever."
He wants to trap me in the Shores forever?! A massive shock went through Rover's heart as a chill spread through him. He stared intently at Phrolova's reaction.
Phrolova fell into silence once again. Her head was lowered, so Rover couldn't see her expression. He could only see her tightly clenched fists, making his heart inexplicably sink.
The President seemed very satisfied with her wavering, his voice carrying a malicious urging: "Oh? Are you hesitating? Are those brief memories between the two of you actually more important than 'us'?"
These words of alienation struck down like a heavy hammer.
Phrolova abruptly raised her head, a flash of absolute resolve in her exposed eye. As if to convince herself, her voice suddenly turned cold and hard: "No! There has always been a seat belonging to him within the Shores anyway; realizing this ahead of time means nothing. He will eventually be there, to fulfill a promise he owes me."
...It came to this, after all. Although he had anticipated it, hearing her make this choice with his own ears still stirred a complex wave of emotions in Rover's heart.
There was disappointment, there was a chilling coldness, but there was also a trace of predetermined understanding.
In the end, she still chose her obsession.
"Hehehe..." The President let out a delighted, low chuckle of a successful scheme. "Pick up your pace. The influence of the Shores on you is still deepening. You don't have much time left."
The phantom-like image dissipated like smoke, leaving Phrolova standing alone in place, her back looking exceptionally solitary and tense.
In the shadows, Rover slowly withdrew his gaze and silently retreated into the deeper darkness.
At this moment, Rover completely understood the full picture of Phrolova's plan, and also roughly understood the chessboard she was deeply trapped in.
His mood grew increasingly heavy. He felt the chill of being plotted against, but also a trace of sorrow for her being unwittingly bewitched by the Fractsidus.
Below, Phrolova remained standing alone. Her head was lowered, her shoulders heaving slightly, as if she were experiencing massive emotional fluctuations.
Rover silently left the area, already formulating a plan in his heart.
He didn't choose to reveal himself immediately; instead, he continued along his own path, finding a way to rendezvous with Phrolova as quickly as possible.
A short while later, as Rover found a main corridor leading to an even lower level, the sound of a fierce struggle and the roars of Tacet Discords rang out.
He quickened his pace. Bursting through a blast door, he witnessed a heart-stopping scene:
Phrolova seemed to have just struggled out of yet another illusion of the other shore. Her eyes were somewhat unfocused, her body tottering.
Around her, four or five Tacet Discords that had been drawn in were seizing the opportunity to pounce on her. It looked as though she was about to be shredded by their sharp claws.
"Phrolova!"
Without a moment's hesitation, Rover's silhouette shot out like the wind.
Blood Pact left its sheath with the roar of a dragon. The fierce sword light swept past like a storm, instantly tearing those Tacet Discords to shreds.
With a single step, he arrived in front of Phrolova, grabbing hold of her as her exhausted body collapsed.
"Phrolova! Wake up!" he barked in a low voice. Aero force once again poured into her body, the gentle healing power pulling her back from the brink of death.
Phrolova coughed violently a few times, her gaze returning to clarity. What entered her vision was Rover's tightly furrowed brow and concerned gaze, as well as the black mist of the Tacet Discords dissipating around them.
"This is the second time..." Rover's voice carried an obvious trace of reprimand, but also a faint hint of concern. "...Do not constantly immerse yourself in the past. Look at the present! If you die, your Shores, your promise—absolutely nothing will be left of them!"
Phrolova stared blankly at him, watching his slightly rapid breathing from rushing to save her just in time.
She seemed to want to say something, but ultimately just pressed her pale lips tightly together.
Rover let out a sigh, not scolding her any further. He pulled the spider lily baton out of his coat and handed it back to her.
"Hold onto your spider lily carefully," his tone softened. "Do not hand it over to anyone else so easily again."
Phrolova silently took the baton, her fingertips trembling slightly the moment they touched it.
She lowered her head, her grayish-green hair obscuring her expression, and said in a voice that was almost inaudible:
"Mm... I won't hand it over to 'anyone else' anymore."
Rover took a deep look at her. He didn't interrogate her about her conversation with the President of the Fractsidus just now. He simply turned around and looked toward the deeper darkness of the corridor.
"Let's go. It seems we will need to walk the rest of this path together to get out of here."
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