Only after Phaethon confirmed that Cyrene and Phainon had completely disappeared beyond the wheat field did he leisurely get to his feet, his movements carrying that slightly casual, lazy grace unique to youth.
He casually brushed away the grass clippings and dead leaves clinging to his clothes, then turned, his gaze calmly settling on the Express crew who had been watching him warily, and walked straight toward them.
Phaethon's steps were steady, his face still bearing a trace of the lightheartedness from the frolic just moments ago.
He stopped before Stelle, nodded slightly, and spoke in a tone somewhere between formal and casual, extending a hand toward her.
"Hmm~ A first meeting, guests from beyond the stars. Phaethon of Aedes Elysiae, greetings to you."
The hand was clean, with well-defined knuckles, full of youthful vigor—a world apart from the "Asterion" outside who controlled amber and was about to bring destruction to the world.
"Wait a moment!"
Welt Yang's voice cut through sharply, carrying an unmistakable wariness and the stress of long-suppressed vigilance.
The sudden exclamation halted Phaethon's outstretched hand mid-air.
"Who exactly are you?" Welt stepped half a pace forward, subtly shielding Stelle behind him, his gaze behind his glasses sharp as a blade, as if trying to peel back the young exterior and see the essence beneath. "What is your relationship with that 'Asterion' outside who nearly destroyed the world?!"
The atmosphere grew instantly taut, the tranquility of the wheat field seemingly torn open.
Phaethon was silent for a moment. A flicker of an extremely complex emotion seemed to pass through those clear eyes, but soon, he let out a soft laugh—a laugh carrying a detachment unusual for his age. He withdrew his suspended hand.
"I am not that 'him' outside." His tone was calm.
"I am merely... 'Phaethon of Aedes Elysiae.' That name, Asterion—all the fate, responsibility, and madness it carries... holds no meaning for the 'me' standing before you right now."
"..." Wariness still lingered in Welt's eyes; clearly, he didn't fully believe Phaethon's words. The atmosphere fell into a sudden silence.
"Query: This gentleman who calls himself Phaethon." Screwllum's elegant voice chimed in at the right moment, breaking the brief deadlock and drawing everyone's attention to a more central issue.
"You, or rather, that Asterion who led us into this world of memories, went through great trouble to bring us here. What exactly does he wish to reveal to us? What message does he hope to convey?"
Phaethon shifted his gaze from Welt toward the fluffy clouds on the horizon, his tone maintaining that puzzling ease.
"You all know that Amphoreus is an Aeon's experimental ground, a 'petri dish' used to cultivate Emanators of Destruction..." he began slowly, his words like a boulder plunging into a tranquil lake. "But do you know Amphoreus's original essence?"
"The ultimate purpose for which it was constructed was actually an attempt to answer a question that has plagued countless philosophers and thinkers since the dawn of civilization: What is the 'Prime Mover of Life'?"
"The 'Prime Mover of Life'?" The Herta repeated the term. On her face, usually marked by a casual demeanor, appeared for the first time the focus and contemplation of a true scholar, her brow slightly furrowed.
"Yes. What is the 'Prime Mover of Life'?" Phaethon turned to face the group, making a gesture akin to seeking discussion, his eyes shimmering with a profound light that belied his youthful features. "Life, the most complex miracle in the universe—why did it evolve into the form we see today? What is its most original, most fundamental driving force?"
The question he posed struck at the very core of existence itself.
"Some once proposed it was because a certain deity existed, who molded humans in their own image. But an even more fundamental question follows: Where did that deity itself come from?"
"Stripping away all external environmental influences and evolutionary paths, what is the internal, irresistible driving force that compelled life to grow into its current form?"
This question plunged both The Herta and Screwllum into deep thought simultaneously.
As members of the Genius Society, handpicked by Nous, countless theories explaining the evolution of life forms could instantly flash through their minds—evolutionary theory, natural selection, genetic mutation, survival of the fittest...
But they understood that Phaethon wasn't asking about the "how" of life's external formation. He was asking about a deeper level, closer to philosophy and the essence of existence: the "why"—that most primordial spark that drove life from nothing to something, from simple to complex, constantly climbing upward. What was it?
Watching the two geniuses lost in thought, a faint, elusive smile tugged at the corner of Phaethon's mouth.
"If you want to know the final result of this experiment, and... the answer that 'I' out there found," his tone carried a casualness as if it had nothing to do with him, like discussing a play he wasn't part of, "then by all means, continue watching."
Phaethon's gaze seemed to pierce through this golden wheat field, looking toward some predetermined end.
"At the end of this drama, you will witness with your own eyes the answer belonging to 'Asterion'."
He paused, his voice lowering slightly. "When that time comes, 'Asterion' hopes you will acknowledge the path he has walked... and help him complete what he calls 'saving the world'."
Phaethon's tone was so utterly indifferent, as if Asterion's grand ambition to save the world, the survival of Amphoreus, even the answers to the Aeons' grand scheme, were mere chaff in the wind, completely unrelated to him, this "Phaethon of Aedes Elysiae."
Having said this, he paid the group no further mind, merely turning slightly to calmly appreciate the peaceful, beautiful scenery of Aedes Elysiae, his gaze distant, as if trying to etch it all deep into his heart.
When Stelle looked at him with probing curiosity and confusion, the youth would even seem to sense it, turn his head, and offer her a gentle smile—a smile as pure as the sunlight at that moment.
...
"We should get going."
Phaethon spoke suddenly, his clear voice like a pebble dropped into a tranquil lake, instantly snapping everyone back from their immersion in the grand proposition.
He seemed completely unaware of how heavy the preceding conversation about the world's essence and the path to salvation had been, his tone as natural as if urging companions to set out for an ordinary outing.
"Time to go. After all... if I don't leave now, I really won't get to taste Sister Cyrene's pretzels."
Phaethon shrugged, his face showing a simple, age-appropriate anticipation for a snack. A strange disconnect from the profound figure who had just posed the question of the "Prime Mover of Life."
With that, he truly paid the group no more heed, turned, and began walking in the direction Cyrene and Phainon had gone. His steps were light, the golden wheat stalks swaying around him, as if he were just an ordinary boy hurrying to an appointment.
"Wait..." Stelle subconsciously called out. This Phaethon's actions were too natural; instead, it left her with a feeling of disorientation.
They had been pulled into this memory, their purpose unclear, danger lurking. Were they just supposed to follow him like this?
Stelle quickly exchanged glances with the others.
Dan Heng remained calm. He gave a slight nod and lowered his voice: "He's the only clear 'lead' we have right now, and also the key to this memory world. Whether this is a trap or guidance, the information we have at the moment is too scarce. Blindly exploring might be more dangerous."
He paused, then stated his judgment based on reason: "Let's follow him for now. Stay alert, and watch for an opening. For now... following him is really the only path we have."