"Hm?" Evernight keenly noticed the unconcealed astonishment on the Express crew’s faces. A flicker of understanding passed through her dark red pupils, then transformed into a playful chuckle.

"It seems... beyond the terms of my agreement with ’him,’ some unexpected ’little interludes’ have occurred that neither he nor I anticipated."

She was no fool, immediately realizing that during her "offline" period, something beyond that Asterion’s expectations had likely happened in this memory space.

A strong curiosity drove her, almost making her instinctively use her Memokeeper abilities to peer into the recent memories these few had just experienced and see clearly the whole story of that "little interlude."

But this thought merely circled in her mind for a moment before she suppressed it herself.

She shrugged elegantly. Forget it. Curious though she was, she knew her limits.

Between her and that Asterion, ultimately, it was merely a transactional relationship of mutual benefit.

He paid the price, she provided assistance, nothing more. Whether his plans would deviate unexpectedly, whether complications would arise...

What business was that of hers?

Her task was clear and straightforward: ensure these Astral Express passengers could safely cross these memory "breakpoints" without getting lost in Asterion’s chaotic, complex past. As for the rest, it was beyond her service scope, and she couldn’t be bothered to expend the mental energy.

Perhaps wanting to change the subject, or perhaps to break the subtle silence, Stelle stepped forward, pointing at the unsettling expanse of pure white ahead, and asked Evernight:

"Uh... dear... Evernight? Why... why is this stretch of memory before us completely blank? Even when Phaethon couldn’t remember scene details clearly before, there were at least outlines and colors."

Evernight’s attention was indeed drawn back. She glanced at the void, seemingly unsurprised by the question. She extended a slender finger and gently tapped toward the blank space—

*Hum...*

A ripple of Memoria spread outward. Then, a translucent bridge of Memoria slowly extended from within the pure white, arching between the breakpoints, leading toward the next unknown memory fragment.

"This, too, is a memory, of course." She lightly tapped the bridge surface with her umbrella tip, producing a crisp echo, her tone as flat as if introducing an ordinary exhibit. "As for why it’s blank... the reason is simple."

She raised her eyes to Stelle. "During this specific period across recurrence, the owner of these memories—that Asterion outside—for reasons unknown to us, his brain... remembered nothing at all."

"No perceptions, no impressions, no fragments of emotion were retained. So, what presents itself here is naturally the purest ’nothingness,’ a blank slate."

"Remembered nothing? How is that possible?" Stelle frowned, finding it hard to comprehend. "Even if he forgot specific events, wouldn’t there be some vague feelings? Like the mood at the time, or fragmented images?"

"Who knows?" Evernight spread her hands nonchalantly, her posture lazy. "Perhaps during this time, something occurred that made it impossible... or impermissible... for him to remember anything at all?" Her words floated lightly, sounding utterly unconvincing.

Having said this, she offered no further explanation and stepped onto the Memoria bridge first, her heels clicking against its surface with faint, ethereal echoes.

She turned back to the Express crew, still pondering in place, and said in that characteristic voice:

"Come now. My task is merely to ensure you don’t completely lose your way in this fragmented, dangerous memory labyrinth of his. As for what those blanks truly signify," she smiled meaningfully, "perhaps you’ll find the answers yourselves in the ’performances’ to come."

"Alright, everyone, onward to the next memory. I’ll appear when you next encounter an anomalous memory zone."

Evernight quietly disappeared before their eyes once more, leaving only the Memoria bridge shimmering faintly in the void.

---

Crossing the bridge, the scenes shifted again. They arrived at the starting point of the first Eternal Recurrences. Before them lay that familiar yet unfamiliar Aedes Elysiae—

No boundless wheat fields, no golden stalks swaying in the breeze, only a stretch of wild grass.

This was Aedes Elysiae from an even earlier time.

And there, they saw that white figure again—Phaethon.

He was leaning against a relatively flat stone, focused on writing something, the scratch of his pen against rough paper making a soft rustling sound. Sunlight spilled across his young face, outlining his concentrated features.

Only... this time, he was completely "integrated" into the memory’s background. To the arrival of the Express crew, he showed no reaction whatsoever—no raised head, no greeting, no sharing anything with them.

He was like a figure in a frozen painting, quietly existing in his own time and space, no longer able to have any intersection with observers from the "future."

This complete "ignoring" made the crew feel more acutely than the previous interactions that they were merely reviewing an unchangeable past.

The Herta cautiously surveyed her surroundings. Only after confirming that Evernight’s presence had indeed vanished, and there was no other suspicious surveillance, did she refocus on the Express crew. Her usual casual demeanor had been set aside, replaced by the seriousness of a scholar.

"Alright, now that elusive Memokeeper and that ’Phaethon’—who we should be highly vigilant of regardless—are both gone."

She crossed her arms, her tone crisp. "Screwllum, let’s use this gap to integrate the intelligence we’ve gathered so far and summarize our current situation. We have enough information fragments; it’s time to try piecing together part of the truth."

With that, she began her analysis without waiting: 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

"First, regarding that Asterion’s ’special ability’." The Herta raised one finger.

"Although we don’t know the detailed mechanism and limitations, based on phenomena observed across multiple memory fragments—especially the abnormal power amplification after scenes involving mass casualties, we can roughly infer that his ability is closely related to the concept of ’death’."

She paused, then offered a chilling conclusion:

"Roughly understood as: the more people die around him, the stronger the power he can absorb."

"..." Welt heard this inference, thought of that Asterion still calling himself a Deliverer, and a wave of discomfort surged in his heart.