It was not the pure, vibrant vitality of a living being, nor the icy stillness of the dead. Rather, it was a... contradictory blend.
A chill permeated with death and finality, yet strangely wrapped around an intensely tenacious, almost twisted will to "live."
This scent reminded Terravox of those silent cemeteries built on the edges of human cities, burying countless pasts.
Solemn, sorrowful, carrying the meaning of an end, yet maintained by the mourning and memories of the living, holding onto a peculiar sense of "presence."
This should absolutely not be the aura of a normal, living human.
"Let's keep moving," Phaethon seemed not to notice, or perhaps he didn't care about Terravox's scrutiny. He pointed in the direction the mountain range extended. "It's about two hundred more kilometers to get out of these mountains and reach a human settlement. Once we're out, you'll be the hero who single-handedly vanquished the rampaging Earth Titan."
He tried his best to act like an ordinary human who'd gotten caught up in events by chance, though he was well aware that a human appearing so coincidentally in these uninhabited, remote mountains was itself a huge point of suspicion.
But who could have predicted that this seemingly steady Terravox had come with the desperate resolve to perish together with the Earth Titan?
*With the Earth Titan still alive, I couldn't directly intervene using my identity as the Earth's Coreflame bearer. I had to step in personally to ensure things wouldn't spiral into the worst outcome.*
*I couldn't... just stand by and watch these two really die together, could I?*
*The Earth Titan is one thing, but Terravox... no. I still need Terravox alive. I need it to remain in this world as proof of "life's tenacious persistence."*
...
Three days later, the edge of the mountains.
The lush, dense forest ended abruptly here. Before them opened up a vast, fertile plain, sunlight pouring down unhindered, a stark contrast to the cold, treacherous peaks behind.
"I never thought this two-hundred-kilometer journey, a distance I could once cross in a single day, would take a full three days in this ruined state," Terravox's massive head turned towards the distant land symbolizing life and civilization, its voice carrying the weakness from severe injuries and a tinge of lament.
Then, it shifted its gaze back to the sunglasses-wearing human who had been largely silent throughout the journey. "Human, thank you... for your aid along the way," Terravox's low voice held the sincerity of an Earth-beast. "Had you not treated those wounds tainted by the Titan's divine power, cleared the accumulated dark toxins... I might have... long been buried in these deep mountains."
"Thanks aren't necessary," Phaethon's voice came from behind the sunglasses, still flat and unreadable. "If you truly wish to do something for me, then don't speak of me to anyone."
"May I know the reason?" A flicker of inquiry passed through Terravox's vertical pupils. The contradictory aura and incomprehensible motives of this human made it impossible not to be curious.
"Consider it..." Phaethon tilted his head slightly, looking at the drifting clouds over the plains, his tone carrying a faint, elusive waver, "...a trivial request from a hermit. I don't wish to be found by anyone, nor do I wish to see anyone." He gave a casual wave, a gesture of farewell, and turned to leave.
"A strange human," Terravox watched his resolute back and finally rumbled, "I swear upon the Earth-Soul to keep your secret. But before you leave, I have one more question."
Phaethon's steps halted, but he did not turn around.
Terravox stared at his seemingly frail back and asked the doubt that had lingered in its mind for days: "You are clearly a person, a being of wisdom and emotion. Yet... why do you act more like us beasts, struggling upon the earth, bound by the laws of survival? Why do you place so-called 'survival,' 'continuation,' on such a supreme pedestal?"
"Because... 'The Prime Mover of Life... is continuation.'"
Phaethon answered directly. Before the words fully faded, he didn't pause for even a moment. His figure flickered, vanishing into the forest behind like a ghost, his speed surpassing Terravox's comprehension, as if fleeing from some indescribable terror.
...
That question from Terravox was like a sudden, unexpected key, violently jamming open the doors of Phaethon's heart that he had desperately tried to lock.
The torrent of memories from endless cycles instantly breached the levees within his mind.
All those chaotic voices, shattered images, death throes, ecstatic cries of billions of living beings—the ones he had only just managed to suppress—came flooding back like a broken dam, once again madly filling his consciousness, tearing at his awareness.
Phaethon's body swayed almost imperceptibly. He closed his eyes, trying to drive out that cacophony.
Yet, the darkness only made the imprints of those memories clearer, more profound.
"Hah... Huh..."
Deep within the forest, Phaethon leaned against the rough bark of an ancient tree, one hand clamped tightly over his forehead, knuckles white with strain.
He gasped for breath, trying to calm the turbulent chaos in his mind.
His other hand unconsciously stroked the tree trunk, seeking some tangible anchor in reality.
However, the woody texture beneath his fingertips became another key, instantly unlocking another, and then countless other, sealed fragments of the past!
This tree... this tree that should have been completely unfamiliar...
In the 1,254,678th cycle, it was the roof beam of a cozy family cottage, supporting the hearth smoke and laughter of ordinary people;
In the 453,627th cycle, it was felled, polished, becoming part of a dressing table in some young woman's chamber, reflecting a youthful face;
In the 5,636,984th cycle, it was the treasured "secret tree fort" of a timid yet adventurous little boy, hiding his childish dreams and treasures...
No! Stop thinking!
Phaethon jerked his hand back as if burned, staggering backward, stumbling away from the tree that bore too many "other" lives.
He wandered aimlessly through the woods, his mind a blur, only wanting to find a patch of "blank" space where he could catch his breath.
He came upon a small forest clearing, his steps unsteady, nearly tripping over a stone half-buried in fallen leaves.
Instinctively, he reached out to steady himself, his palm meeting the stone's cold hardness.
"Nggh..."
Another suppressed groan. A new stream of information pierced his mind like a poisoned thorn!
This stone... In the 798,234th cycle, it was part of the city wall of a border town defending against a beast tide, steeped in the blood of soldiers;
In the 1,523,891st cycle, it was laid as the foundation stone of a bustling street, bearing the ruts of carriages and the footsteps of countless citizens.