"How is she?"
"Just mental exhaustion, nothing too serious. Otherwise, Sushang would have already reacted. Still, she does require proper rest; it'd be best to halt such draining activities temporarily... Oh, Kiana is fine. In fact, I wouldn't mind if she pushed herself more; it helps strengthen her focus and resilience."
"Thank you, appreciate your help."
"No need for formalities among family, right?"
Fu Hua placed two fingers on Cecilia's wrist, nodding with a smile towards Zeke.
Zeke returned a faint smile and glanced back, noticing Theresa, Durandal, and Kiana standing in line, simultaneously sighing in relief—truly a family resemblance, uncanny indeed.
Theresa patted her chest, exclaiming, "That scared me half to death! Thank goodness she's okay!"
Durandal rubbed her chin, looking worried. "Indeed, I didn't expect things to escalate so quickly while we were distracted. Kiana, you should also remind your mother not to rush these matters."
Kiana blinked and nodded vigorously like a pecking chick. "I understand—it's my fault for being too careless. It won't happen again."
The three exchanged glances briefly before their serious expressions softened, replaced by smiles.
Then, Kiana's grin faded as she frowned and said, "It's all that idiot Sirin's fault. Tonight, I'm definitely going to teach her a lesson!"
She clenched her fists, brimming with indignation. As both the Herrscher of Flame and the Sword Goddess, she had every confidence to back up her words.
Durandal felt uneasy about this but held her tongue upon seeing Cecilia's pale face on the bed. She deeply valued Cecilia; despite still feeling somewhat distant from her, Durandal cherished and respected her as a motherly figure. Perhaps it was indeed time for the Herrscher of the Void to learn some humility.
Surprisingly, it was Theresa—who shared the strongest bond with Cecilia—who lightly kicked Kiana's shin. With arms crossed, she shook her head and scolded gently, "Silly niece, best not to act recklessly."
"How am I being reckless?! Look at Mom, Auntie! She's too kind-hearted, but I can't just let this slide—I'll make sure that girl learns some respect for her elders!"
Kiana angrily stomped her foot and fumed.
Theresa lowered her gaze with a soft sigh. "And that's precisely why you're young..."
"What exactly are you trying to say, Auntie?"
"Cecilia's distress breaks my heart as well, but what matters more is not letting her efforts go to waste. She always wanted to be a good mother, hoping to provide everything Durandal deserved back then. But...but she still missed out on your growth. In any case, having another chance to make up for it means everything to Cecilia."
Theresa furrowed her delicate brows, exhaling with a headache.
Cecilia's nature was excessively gentle; she undoubtedly felt immense guilt and self-blame for Kiana and Durandal's tumultuous experiences. To her, whether she could adequately resolve Sirin and Kiana's issues likely determined if she still deserved to be called their mother.
Theresa understood that Cecilia had fixated on this matter, but she wasn't sure how to alleviate her concerns. Perhaps allowing Cecilia to handle Sirin's problem directly is currently the only solution.
Kiana frowned deeply, trying to reason through it but failing. Stubbornly, she protested:
"I don't care! Either way, I just..."
"Kiana, listen to your aunt."
Durandal gently patted Kiana's shoulder, calmly advising her.
"But... fine, okay, I won't cause any trouble." Under Durandal and Theresa's watchful gaze, Kiana finally held back her frustration and reluctantly nodded.
She then turned and embraced Zeke, seeking comfort from him.
Anyone who knew Kiana understood she was always up to mischief.
For instance, although she promised not to cause trouble earlier that day, once asleep at night, her lingering dissatisfaction led her deep within her consciousness to seek out Sirin—As long as I don't fight, it doesn't count as causing trouble, she reasoned with herself.
At present, Sirin sat blankly on the crystal throne, gazing skyward at fragments of memories floating by.
Her helpless and tragic childhood in Babylon Labs; the death of her mother, whose face had grown hazy over time; seeking vengeance against the lab personnel after gaining favor from the God of Honkai... These events felt distant now, so much so that as Sirin watched them pass like fleeting scenes, they seemed almost unfamiliar.
"Pfft, hiding here all alone reminiscing about the past? Looks like you're not completely indifferent after all!" Kiana peered around the backrest of the throne, leaning forward to look down into Sirin's vacant eyes.
Sirin's gaze shifted slightly, then turned cold as she addressed Kiana: "Are you looking for a fight?"
"Not quite. I promised Durandal and Auntie Theresa I wouldn't stir up any trouble. Chatting falls under normal conversation, but let's skip the fighting—I can't go back on my word." Kiana replied nonchalantly, her blue eyes flickering with a hint of melancholy as she gazed at the memory images overhead.
These were shared memories—not exclusive to Sirin alone.
Kiana pondered for a moment before pulling up a couch next to her, sitting down with a bag of chips, and fast-forwarding through the Memory Fragment.
After seizing control of Babylon Labs, the Valkyrie troops, Theresa, Siegfriend, Welt, Fu Hua, and others took turns appearing on stage, causing Sirin's fortunes to fluctuate wildly between triumph and defeat.
"What a roller coaster! Thinking back, it was quite a close call. If things had gone slightly differently, that Sirin might have actually succeeded in destroying humanity!"
"Hmph! I lost due to insufficient intel and overconfidence, but don't expect such luck next time."
"No need for luck, really? What are you thinking? There are plenty who could take you down now!" Kiana munched on her chips, giving Sirin a bewildered look as if saying, "Are you serious?" To be fair, Zeke had already given Sirin ample opportunity to rebel during their last encounter; surely she knew by then what level of opposition she faced?
Sirin's expression stiffened, and she turned away with a dismissive snort.
"...Hmph!"
Kiana was well accustomed to Sirin resorting to huffs whenever she couldn't win an argument. So, she continued watching the sky, paying no heed to Sirin's reaction.
The next scene was Sirin's most deeply ingrained memory—a fleeting illusion where Cecilia became her mother, giving her a taste of the warmth she yearned for more than anything.
Then it all came to a sudden end, as clashes of iron and blood overshadowed that brief moment of tenderness. In the final instant, cradled in Cecilia's arms, everything vanished amidst blinding white light.
These flowing memories were only fragments of vivid impressions, not lasting long. Together, Kiana and Sirin watched—or rather, reminisced—the entirety of this story.
Kiana put down her chips, took a deep breath, and let a tear roll down from the corner of her eye. With a wistful tone, she said,
"Honestly, no wonder you're always so explosive if you keep revisiting these memories."
Sirin remained silent.
"Why aren't you saying anything? Never mind, your stubborn nature speaks for itself; no need to explain. But I think I understand now why you resist so strongly... Deep down, you're afraid, right? More than just harboring resentment, you fear getting lost again only to be betrayed once more. You dread the unbearable pain of losing something after finally gaining it."
Kiana curled up, hugging her knees, and looked at Sirin with a faint smile.
Sirin turned to meet Kiana's gentle gaze and sneered, "You understand nothing, idiot."
"Whatever. You've said that thousands of times already; I'm tired of responding. But seriously, won't you take just one step forward? Surely, you're not blind to how much our mother cared for us."
"Get out!" Sirin replied coldly.
Though her demeanor remained unfriendly, at least this time, she stayed seated quietly on the crystal throne. Whether from exhaustion or some other contemplation, it was unclear.
"As you wish..." Kiana responded lazily, gradually disappearing from this domain with a final smile-filled glance towards Sirin's back.
Simultaneously, behind Sirin's throne, a silver-haired woman resembling an elf, gently lifted her dress, smiled, and stealthily approached on tiptoes.
"How childish!" Despite gazing at the now-empty sky, Sirin's expressionless face seemed almost dazed as she abruptly uttered this judgment.
Cecilia's attempt to sneak up and embrace her froze mid-motion. Eventually, she scratched her cheek, feeling awkward, and walked around to stand before Sirin.
"Good evening! When did you notice?"
"Why did you still come inside?" Sirin asked coldly without evading the question.
Though it wasn't evident from her expression or tone, she genuinely expressed concern.
For Cecilia, who had been playing hide-and-seek for months, even this awkward display of care was deeply appreciated. She smiled and replied,
"Well, although I'm feeling a bit under the weather and was advised to rest, seeing you after all this time made me reluctant to give up just yet. And then... Kiana couldn't resist my pleading, so she reluctantly agreed to let me try one more time. That's about how it went."
"Hmph! Foolish!" Sirin sneered once again.
Cecilia scratched her face, slightly embarrassed. Encountering someone as prickly as Sirin was rare for her; most people treated her with great kindness—after all, who could stay mad at such a charming mother-in-law? Consequently, Cecilia found herself unaccustomed to this reaction. However, being naturally good-natured, especially towards her daughter, she quickly adjusted to Sirin's demeanor. Her smiling, slightly bashful expression exuded innocence and warmth.
Sirin scrutinized this gentle and harmless smile, narrowing her eyes. "Speak up—what do you want?"
Whether it was borrowing Herrscher abilities or asking for help with that idiot Kiana next time... Considering the warmth she'd felt during their time in the illusory realm and the embrace they shared at its end, Sirin thought, as long as the request wasn't too outrageous, she could grant this foolish woman's wish.
Exploitation or deceit—it mattered not; humans were creatures of such nature anyway. Given how convincingly this woman acted, rewarding her wouldn't hurt, Sirin reassured herself, masking all emotions with a cold expression.
"I'm just tired of chasing after you. Now tell me, what insignificant and humble desire do you harbor? Seeing as your antics provide ample amusement, I may extend my great mercy," Sirin added arrogantly, completely oblivious to how these unnecessary words seemed more like a facade than her previous frantic evasion. If she truly felt indifferent, then why had she been running for months?
Cecilia embraced the Queen seated on the throne, her voice filled with joy and tenderness:
"I want...for you to find happiness!"
"What did you just say?!"
"I said, 'Ich liebe dich'!"
The same embrace, the same warmth, and the same enchantment.
In that moment, Sirin felt as if she had returned to the bewildering dream in Siberia. With a blank expression, she nestled against Cecilia's chest, tears silently streaming down her face.