"But you shouldn't... abandon it!" Hyacinthia bravely took a step forward, her voice urgent and pleading. "No matter how tiny, it is still the light that belongs to 'you'!"
"I never abandoned it." Phaethon's voice carried a trace of something almost imperceptible for the first time... perhaps exhaustion, or perhaps something else. "It's just... the past of every person, the regrets of every departed soul, the wishes of every living being... I need to... remember them all. I need to... carry them with me... and continue."
His gaze fell upon Hyacinthia's eyes, which, having glimpsed too many truths, had lost their starry sparkle, leaving only a vast, empty azure.
"Do not use the Authority of the Sky to connect with my heart anymore." He warned immediately, his voice low. "There... lies the abyss."
Yet, Hyacinthia shook her head. Her resolve was firm.
"Hollow continuation cannot save anyone... It ultimately leads only to another form of death. However," her eyes shone with unwavering determination, "I still believe you will not drag this world into utter darkness."
"Because within your heart, though frozen, though filled with the voices of countless others, grown so terribly cold... I can sense that in its deepest depths, there still remains a spark named 'gentleness,' burning faintly."
She took a deep breath. Warm, resplendent iridescent light began to flow around her—the healing, connecting power belonging to the Sky Demigod.
"I, the Eye of Twilight, Hyacinthia, though not powerful enough to command winds and rains, to reshape heaven and earth... I can use these eyes, this warm iridescent light, to bring color—color it has never seen—to that undying flame in your heart! And to bring a rose-hued dawn to Amphoreus!"
She chose to resist, not for power or life, but to fulfill her healer's oath, to cure this seemingly powerful yet inwardly shattered "patient" before her.
Until her "treatment" was complete, she would not lightly hand over the Coreflame to join that cold cycle of "continuation."
"Even if the colors in your heart have faded to a turbid grey, I can still touch a lingering warmth therein..."
Hyacinthia's voice was ethereal yet resolute. She completely released the restrictions on the Sky Coreflame. Vast, azure power of the firmament began to surge around her, iridescent light weaving as she attempted to deeply fuse with the Coreflame, to unleash the demigod's most complete form—
"Deliverer... please, open your heart to me."
However, before that fusing brilliance could reach its peak, Phaethon had already raised his hand.
Countless cold "0"s and "1"s emerged from the void, like living chains, instantly coiling around Hyacinthia's limbs and torso. Not only did they restrict her movement, they forcibly severed her attempt at deeper resonance with the Coreflame.
"This is futile." Phaethon's voice remained steady, yet carried a kind of absolute, despair-inducing certainty. "Even though you have preliminarily fused with the Sky Coreflame, with the Authority bestowed upon me by Amphoreus, I can directly bypass the fusion process and harmlessly... strip away the Sky permissions."
He extended his palm, aiming at the leaping azure flame over Hyacinthia's chest.
Simultaneously, a prompt only he could perceive echoed in the depths of his consciousness:
[Sky Permission Node Located.]
[Executing Uninstallation Protocol...]
[Repackaging Corresponding Permission Vessel for Transfer to Designated Secure Coordinates.]
The power of rules began to operate. The iridescent light around Hyacinthia flickered erratically.
Yet, at the very moment the stripping protocol initiated, Hyacinthia let out a short, heavily suppressed grunt of pain.
Phaethon's actions halted abruptly. The nearly completed stripping process was forcibly suspended by him.
"Demigod," his voice held the faintest trace of emotional fluctuation for the first time, "theoretically... you should not feel any pain."
Despite his absolute confidence in his own Authority, that sliver of uncertainty, that fear of unforeseen consequences, appeared like a fine crack on his frozen mental state—he was afraid Hyacinthia might suffer pain beyond his calculations.
To his surprise, Hyacinthia, bound by the data shackles, showed no sign of agony. Instead, she let out a low, soft laugh, filled with understanding and a hint of cleverness.
"Making the patient... personally realize their illness still has room for remedy is the first step toward successful treatment."
She raised her head, her gaze penetrating the shackles, warmly resting on Phaethon. "You see... the 'gentleness' in your heart, it still exists. It's just buried too deep, needing to be carefully awakened, patiently nurtured."
Her voice grew even softer, carrying a sincere plea: "Could you... talk with me? Talk about your name, your past... even just a little bit. After we talk, the Sky Coreflame... I will hand it over willingly, without a single regret. How about that trade?"
"..."
A long silence permeated the twilight.
Finally, Phaethon let out an almost inaudible sigh.
"My name is... Asterion." He spoke slowly, uttering this name that carried far too much weight. "You may also call me... Phaethon."
"Alright then, Phaethy." Hyacinthia's address instantly became affectionate and natural. Her eyes regained that light Phaethon had grown so familiar with over twenty million cycles—resilient, gentle, passionate, yet bearing the sharpness unique to a healer. "Now, can you tell me? Why are you so determined on stopping the Chrysos Heirs from absorbing the Coreflames? What exactly is hidden behind that 'continuation'?"
...
In the time that followed, Phaethon, in a calm tone, briefly outlined the despair of tens of millions of cycles, and the "Continuation" plan he and Phainon had devised—a construct of lies and deception.
Hyacinthia listened quietly, without interruption, until Phaethon's voice faded.
"So that's how it is... Phaethy." She said softly, her eyes filled with understanding, yet not agreement. "Every person has the possibility and the right to continue, but you shouldn't... demand that everyone must continue solely along the one path you've set."
She took a step forward. Though still restrained by the data shackles, her gaze seemed able to directly touch Phaethon's soul.
"Your plan might indeed allow Amohoreus's 'existence' to continue, like a specimen meticulously preserved in amber."
"But Phaethy, if you stubbornly force all life to remain in the state of a 'seed,' then... when will new life ever sprout?"
Her voice carried a piercing compassion as she asked the most crucial question:
"Phaethy, is this outcome of mere 'continuation'... truly what 'Cyrie' wishes to see?"