"Since that is the case, the strategy is set," Aglaea delivered the final summary.
"Hysilens will proceed immediately to the battlefield at Castrum Kremnos to lead the effort to erode Nikador's will. My teacher's Infinity Gate will serve as the final line of defense for the holy city."
Finally, her sharp gaze passed over the group and landed on Cyrene at the rear of the party, who had remained silent since returning from Castrum Kremnos.
"Cyrene," Aglaea's voice softened slightly yet carried a seriousness that reached straight to the heart. "Although the holy city now has a plan to deal with the crisis... we still need to understand the fundamental truth behind Nikador's extreme abnormality."
"I believe you understand what you must do now, correct?"
"Yes... I do, Lady Aglaea. I understand." Cyrene took a deep breath, stating her resolution clearly and solemnly. "I will set out at once to seek an audience with Oronyx, the Titan of Time, to bring about the birth of the Demigod of Time."
She had to find out what Phaethon—who had alone borne the weight of tens of millions of recurrence before her own birth in this iteration—had changed this time.
Just as in the original course of events, Stelle, Castorice, Dan Heng, and Cyrene reached the final door before their audience with Oronyx.
"Your Excellency Cyrene... are you... alright? Is Lady Aglaea's demand for you to become a demigod now... too rushed?" Castorice felt that Cyrene's state seemed somewhat off, thinking she might be anxious about prematurely assuming a demigod's authority.
"I am fine, do not worry, Castorice," Cyrene replied calmly. "My resolve to bring about the early birth of the Demigod of Time is firm."
She pushed open the final door to the audience chamber of Oronyx.
Within the chaotic space beyond the door, a vast, blurry figure, as if composed of countless stacked fragments of time, was concealed within the mist.
A vast Titan's voice came from the distance.
"Leave... leave. Child of Chrysos... now is not the time..."
"The birth of the Demigod of Time... is not now... otherwise..."
"Genesis... cannot... be hastened..."
"I, refuse... you, leave..."
"Oronyx, I know. I am aware of your reservations," Cyrene clasped her hands together, then remembering the others present, she added, "I understand how dreadful oblivion is. But we need your power now."
Castorice also looked up towards the figure hidden in the mist. "Oronyx, I call upon you. Nikador has fallen into a bizarre madness. Grant us the ability to unveil the past shrouded in mist, guide us to find the method to extinguish its frenzy."
The distant Titan's voice seemed to take on a note of anger.
"Children of Chrysos Heir... pitiful, sorrowful, and cruel heroes..."
"You follow that erroneous prophecy... rendering the sacrifices of myself and my brethren meaningless!"
"Under the pretext of 'Salvation,' you seize Coreflames... leaving me here to endure boundless loneliness..."
"Leave... leave... Return for my Coreflame only when the world itself is on the verge of shattering..."
Right at this moment of tense stalemate, when the atmosphere had solidified to its extreme—
*Click—!*
A crisp shutter sound was utterly abrupt, accompanied by a dazzling flash of light, instantly shattering the space's inherent solemnity and gravity.
Our Stelle scratched her head sheepishly—she had forgotten to turn off her camera's shutter sound and flash.
"Leave me... alone for a while," Cyrene said, watching as Oronyx gradually faded and sank back into the mist on the horizon. Her voice held no discernible joy or sorrow, only a deep exhaustion. She spoke to Stelle this way, her gaze even lacking focus.
"Um... well, sorry about that, Cyrene," Stelle felt very apologetic, awkwardly holding the suddenly appearing pink-furred little creature. "I seem to have... accidentally, taken your position as the Demigod of Time?"
"Mii... mii-mii..." The peculiar pink flying rabbit also seemed to sense the heavy atmosphere, its voice tinged with apology as it nuzzled Stelle's hand.
"It's fine," Cyrene shook her head gently, still looking in the direction where Oronyx had vanished, repeating, "Truly, it's fine. Just let me stay here alone for a while, please."
"Your Excellency..." Castorice whispered to Stelle, her eyes signaling. "I think we should heed Lady Cyrene's wish and leave for now, letting her have some quiet time alone."
When the figures of Stelle, Dan Heng, and Castorice had completely vanished beyond the door, the depths of this "Abyss of Fate" that should have returned to silence suddenly echoed with several light, airy laughs carrying a strange echo.
"Giggle... heeheehee..."
"That's more like it, it should have been this way long ago. Fellow child walking the Path of Remembrance, why were you so stubborn before, repeatedly preventing us from entering this fascinating Amphoreus?"
As the words were spoken, several figures emerged as if from shattered mirrors, leaning or standing with elegant yet pressuring poises, manifesting their forms within the space.
They were Memokeepers from the Garden of Recollection.
"Do not overthink it," Cyrene's voice now turned to ice, completely different from before. "This is merely a transaction. Use what I have given you to shape a 'mnemonic spirit' that I desire. In exchange, I permit you few to set foot in Amphoreus. That is all. Nothing more."
"My, so cold. Define it as you wish, dear 'Gatekeeper.' Then now, as per our agreement, we shall..." The Memokeepers seemed not to mind Cyrene's attitude, lightly laughing as they prepared to exercise their acquired permission.
However—
"Might I ask everyone to... compose yourselves for a moment."
A soft, sweet voice that nevertheless made all the present Memokeepers feel as if doused in ice water intervened without warning.
The figures of the Memokeepers trembled violently, the color draining from their faces (if they possessed any).
"For there is also a... small transaction between Miss Cyrene and myself that remains unfulfilled."
The space rippled like water as a figure of a young girl holding a delicate parasol, with smooth pink hair and deep crimson pupils, appeared before all the Memokeepers as gracefully and lethally as an inescapable nightmare.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile played on Evernight's lips as her gaze passed directly over the stunned Memokeepers and settled on Cyrene.
"You performed quite well just now. They seemed to think you truly intended to become the Demigod of Time in this iteration."