"’Preservation’ might be able to define the state of ’being alive,’ but it can never define—why life chooses to live at all!"

Before her words faded, she charged forward once more! In her left hand, Dawnmaker carried the hatred and determination to burn everything; in her right hand, the ceremonial staff bore unchanging tenderness and love.

"Look at us! Look at Amphoreus!" Her voice grew more and more fervent. "If it were merely for ’preservation,’ why would we possess laughter that can wash away pain and tears that can etch happiness into memory?"

"Why, in cycle after cycle of despair, do we still stubbornly ignite the flame called ’hope,’ and in the boundless darkness, persistently seek that sliver of light that might not even exist?!"

"Wouldn’t absolute reason, discarding all ’useless’ emotions, and becoming a life form with a simple structure and high reproductive efficiency—like bacteria—be a more ’perfect’ way to preserve ourselves?"

"But we didn’t! Amphoreus didn’t! Because what drives life to continuously climb upward, to evolve from simplicity to complexity, has never been just the most basic biological instinct of ’preservation’!"

Each of her words landed like a heavy hammer infused with all her conviction, striking hard against the fortress of belief that Asterion had forged through thirty million recurrences. Cracks were quietly spreading.

"What drives life to continuously climb upward, to evolve from simplicity to complexity, is also ’love’ and ’hate’!" Cyrene was nearly shouting now, pushing the power of her twin swords to their absolute limit.

"’Love’! It is the ’gravity’ that gathers life and gives meaning to the world. It brings us together, makes us yearn for perfection, makes us willing to sacrifice for one another, and gives this cold world warmth and meaning worth protecting!"

"’Hate’! It is the ’repulsion’ we use to sever chains when facing injustice and despair. It makes us resist unfairness, makes us loathe imperfection, makes us cut through shackles, and gives us the courage to change predetermined fate!"

"The interweaving of love and hate shapes and influences the way and meaning of our preservation!"

For the first time, Asterion’s offensive showed clear stagnation. In those blazing crimson pupils, the cold reason was crumbling inch by inch. The amber radiance surrounding him also flickered unsteadily.

But... as the intensity of the battle escalated infinitely within this conscious space, more and more of the amber towers—used to seal and suppress the memories and consciousness of thirty million lifetimes of Amphoreans—were being damaged and collapsing on an ever-larger scale. It seemed as if his internal wavering was directly reflected in the external collapse.

Even Cyrene could clearly feel that every movement Asterion made had become heavier and slower, as if he were advancing while bearing the weight of an entire crumbling world.

Finally... 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

"Enough!" Asterion finally let out a roar that seemed to spring from the depths of his soul, a roar filled with pain, exhaustion, and a sense of collapsing at his limits. He retreated slightly, planting the amber greatsword on the ground to support his trembling body.

"Enough? Does this mean Phaethon is finally willing to admit that cold ’preservation’ cannot encompass the full meaning of life, and is ready to accept the answer of ’love and hate’?"

Cyrene’s face was somewhat pale from the massive consumption of power, her breathing slightly rapid, but her eyes still shone astonishingly bright, flickering with an unyielding, steadfast light.

"’Love and hate’? Hah..." Asterion let out an extremely bitter and weary chuckle, a laugh more heartbreaking than crying. Finally, he sighed one last time, a sigh bearing a weight that could crush stars.

"You don’t understand, Cyrene. If you truly... love me," he raised his hand, his left hand weakly, almost painfully, gently touching his forehead—anyone could see that his state was extremely wrong, revealing the ravaged heart beneath.

"Perhaps you should have let me choose the answer of ’preservation,’ let me... do one last thing for Amphoreus, for you. Instead of... dragging me back to that reality full of pain."

Cyrene frowned deeply, a strong sense of unease passing through her heart. "I know your memories are shattered, that the self belonging to ’Phaethon’ is continuously fading, but believe me, believe in your Cyrene!"

"As a Pathstrider on the path of ’Remembrance,’ I can definitely piece together all your scattered past! I told you, I want to take you back to Aedes Elysiae! Back to our home!"

"Back to Aedes Elysiae? Home?" Asterion suddenly lifted his head, his eyes revealing without any concealment the exhaustion of over thirty million lifetimes and a fragility bordering on despair.

"Cyrene, do you know... what it feels like to be forced to bear over thirty million lifetimes of memories that aren’t originally yours?"

His voice was low and hoarse, every word seeming to be squeezed out with difficulty from the fissures of his soul. "At the end of every cycle, it’s like countless unfamiliar ’lives,’ countless others’ emotions, others’ pain, others’ hopes and despairs, being brutally and roughly crammed into your mind!"

"Those brief moments of happiness are borrowed, fleeting; while the endless pain is multiplied, like tides drowning you again and again! And the deepest... is that eternal loneliness! You know the endings of all the ’stories,’ yet you can never truly help them. You can do nothing!"

He looked around at the amber towers that were beginning to collapse at an accelerated pace, his eyes filled with an undissolvable sadness.

"This path of ’preservation,’ for me, is already the best outcome I could find... on the edge of madness."

Asterion’s voice carried a heartbreaking resignation. "Because only by sealing all these memories that don’t belong to me within this amber... can I feel slightly better, can I maintain the existence of ’me.’ Moreover..."

His gaze refocused on Cyrene:

"Doing this, before I completely collapse and am utterly scattered and devoured by this flood of chaotic memories, I can truly, for the last time... save Amphoreus, save... all of you. If you also love me, Cyrene... you shouldn’t stop me! You shouldn’t... drag me back to that hell!"

The truth, at this moment, like the ice-piercing waters of the River of Souls, carrying the full weight of over thirty million recurrences, instantly engulfed Cyrene completely.

She finally understood. What Phaethon had chosen was not merely a path of salvation, but also a path... between madness and destruction, a cruel self-termination he had chosen for himself.