In the interstice of Paths, beneath the Imaginary Tree.
The handsome man watched Ye Cang being sent away from this world, then slowly withdrew his gaze and looked at the three Aeons gradually fading beside him.
He murmured, “All the work of recreating the world is complete.
I should be on my way too.”
“The source of the eldritch calamity is not here.
It exists in the past, and in the future, but not in the present.”
The Aeon of Remembrance spoke in a low voice, Their tone carrying an invisible majesty.
“Terminus has gone mad.
You and Cang are the only two ‘Higher-Dimensional Observers’ with the ability to travel through time and space.
The influence of the eldritch calamity is not irreversible for you two.”
“You two, one moving from the present to the future, one tracing back from here to the past.
When all fates converge on some day, the path to salvation for this universe may be hidden within.”
“So, our time is almost up too, isn’t it?”
Aha, the Aeon of Elation, toyed with a mask in Their hand, looking at the two with great interest, and smiled.
“So, our time is almost up too, isn’t it?”
Mr.
Moon nodded.
Though his expression was calm, regret and weariness were hard to hide in his eyes.
“Aeon contamination is irreversible.
Everyone present here is a product of my Imagination, so to speak, backups of your consciousness before the world restart.”
“Sustaining so many ‘Imaginary Aeons,’ even if their power does not match your true selves, is a huge drain on me.”
Xipe, the Aeon of Harmony, still had her eyes half-closed, her triple faces full of loving kindness and serenity.
“In other words, we in the real world have all been contaminated by the eldritch calamity?”
Fuli shook Their head.
“More than that.
Aeons are the masters of Paths, and the contamination of an Aeon will contaminate the entire Path along with it.
Those most affected should be your Emanators.”
“The era of eldritch and darkness is about to descend.”
“I hope that before everything becomes irreversible, we can find that single thread of hope.”
Mr.
Moon looked into the distance, then suddenly clenched his fists.
He could no longer maintain his earlier refined and easygoing image and cursed loudly: “Damn it, I just came to this world to vacation with my wife and kids, eating hotpot and singing songs, and suddenly the eldritch calamity slaps me in the face!
Where am I supposed to go to complain?”
“You guys are just fine, the world restarts, and one by one you kick the bucket just like that!
Expecting me and Ye Cang, two outsiders, to save the world—please, have some shame, okay?”
“Now look, I, the dignified Heavenly Principles of Teyvat, am covered in eldritch contamination, unable to go home!
And I still have to clean up your mess…”
He muttered on and on, then suddenly froze in place, turned his head and looked around.
All the Aeons had disappeared.
The entire interstice of Paths was empty, leaving only him alone.
The power of Imagination sustaining the Aeon backups was exhausted.
Without faith power to replenish it, relying only on his own recovery, it would probably take a long time before he could summon these “Imaginary Aeons” again.
“Forget it, it’s time to set off.
But before that…
as a fellow outsider, let me give you one more small gift.”
Thinking this, with a thought, he casually tore through space, stepped forward, his divine body crossing the interstice of Paths and entering that universe contaminated by the eldritch calamity.
A train covered in blood and flesh traveled through the sea of stars, speeding toward that silent and quiet space station.
The Aeon of Imagination, hands tucked in sleeves, looked down at the good show repeating in the train car.
As if sensing something, the Aeon of Elation, incarnated as “March 7th,” looked up and met his gaze, a playful smile curling at the corner of her mouth.
The next second, the entire universe seemed to suddenly flip upside down, and the positions of the two Aeons abruptly swapped.
Seeing “March 7th” before him instantly turn into a beautiful “black-haired woman,” Ye Cang was stunned in place, momentarily forgetting the pain from the eldritch erosion on his body.
“Beautiful lady, you are…”
“First, I’m male.
Second, you did well, fellow townsman.”
Hearing the words “fellow townsman,” Ye Cang’s eyes widened and he exclaimed, “You’re also a transmigrator…”
“Something like that, but my situation is a bit special.” The man withdrew his hand and pointed to his own chest.
“I can’t go back anymore, but you’re different from me.
After everything settles, you still have the right to make your own choice.”
Ye Cang’s pupils contracted, sharply sensing the implication in the man’s words.
What does “can’t go back” mean?
What does “the right to make your own choice” mean?
Was my transmigration your doing?
“Yes, and no.” The man smiled and glanced at the ceiling of the train car, his expression complicated.
“I merely made a proposal.
The one who chose you…
was this world, decaying day by day.”
“The world chose me?” Ye Cang repeated the man’s words, deep in thought.
The man nodded, withdrew his gaze, and looked deeply into Ye Cang’s face.
He changed the subject.
“However, your transmigration is ultimately connected to me.
As compensation, I will grant you part of my authority…
just as a small gift for our first meeting.”
As he spoke, he raised a slender finger, jade-like and fair, and gently tapped Ye Cang’s brow.
Ye Cang felt resistance in his heart and instinctively wanted to turn his head, but his body seemed to lose control, and he could only stare blankly as that finger, fair enough to not look like a man’s, lightly landed on his forehead.
The next second, a string of text abruptly appeared in Ye Cang’s mind.
–+–
[Imagination: Right Hand of Memory]
Description: Designate a character, use the power of Imagination: Memory to replicate a skill they have used in your presence.
The skill’s strength and effect depend on the user’s current stature.
The replicated skills will be stored respectively in the thumb, index finger, middle finger, ring finger, and pinky of the right hand.
Current maximum capacity: 5.
Owner: Solomon Phanes (Aeon of Imagination).
–+–
Ye Cang stared blankly at the absurdly beautiful young man before him, the description of the [Right Hand of Imagination] replaying in his mind, a glint flashing in his eyes.
“Your name is…
Solomon?
Is it the King Solomon I’m thinking of?”
“Yes, The King Solomon and the Seventy-Two Demon Pillars.
Have you read it too?
But rather than ‘Solomon,’ I’d prefer you call me—Mr.
Moon.”
“Why the right hand?”
“Because it’s my dominant hand.”
“Can you demonstrate?”
“No problem.”
As an Aeon, this Mr.
Moon was surprisingly straightforward, beyond Ye Cang’s expectations.
He directly extended his right hand and made a grasping motion toward the no-longer-humanoid Welt Yang sitting blankly on a chair nearby.
“Mr.
Yang and I are old acquaintances.
Replicating his skills is not the first time for me.”
After speaking, Mr.
Moon used his free left hand to push up his glasses, and said solemnly, “Have you seen the way stars shatter?”
As the words fell, a deep purple black hole appeared in his palm out of thin air, then was quickly snuffed out by him.
“…” Ye Cang looked at the sudden appearance of the same-style glasses as Uncle Yang on his face, and asked in surprise, “Where did you get those glasses?”
Mr.
Moon glanced sideways, a silver glint flashing across his lenses.
“Mind your own business when it comes to Aeon matters.”
Having said that, he coughed lightly and said seriously, “The Right Hand of Imagination.
Did you learn it?”
“Oh.”
Ye Cang raised his right hand and made a grasping gesture toward Mr.
Moon.
“Like this?”
Using the Right Hand of Imagination to replicate the Right Hand of Imagination.
Ding—
A light sound, and another line of text appeared in Ye Cang’s mind.
–+–
[Imagination: Left Hand of Memory (Replica)]
Description: Designate a character, use the power of Imagination to replicate a skill they have used in your presence.
The skill’s strength and effect depend on the user’s current stature.
The replicated skills will be stored respectively in the thumb, index finger, middle finger, ring finger, and pinky of the right hand.
Current maximum capacity: 5.
Owner: Solomon Phanes (Aeon of Imagination).
–+–
In contrast, the original [Imagination: Right Hand of Memory]’s maximum capacity became “4.”
Mr.
Moon: “…”
“It seems so.” Ye Cang looked at his right hand.
With the successful replication of the Right Hand of Imagination, a strange gilded pattern appeared on the back of his thumb, like a vortex formed by intertwining tentacles.
This mark should represent the replicated [Right Hand of Imagination].
“I suddenly have a bold idea!”
Ye Cang’s eyes gleamed.
He used the Imagination: Left Hand of Memory to make another grasping motion at the white-clad man before him, attempting to recursively replicate the [Imagination: Right Hand of Memory].
But the expected notification sound did not appear.
This replication ended in failure.
“Put away your bold idea.
Are you trying to stack them?”
Mr.
Moon glared at Ye Cang’s hand frozen in the air, lowered his voice slightly, and said earnestly, “The Right Hand of Imagination is a small skill I developed after referencing old man Fuli’s ability.
Its activation depends to some extent on ‘witnessing of memory,’ ‘reproduction of memory,’ and ‘bearing of memory.'”
“When activating the skill, each of your fingers is equivalent to a Light Cone, capable of recording and archiving the Path abilities you have seen…”
“But you only have ten fingers!
Letting you replicate one left hand is already the limit.
You think you can infinitely nest them?”
Ye Cang was slightly stunned, momentarily intimidated by Mr.
Moon’s aura, and weakly said, “Um…
can’t I use toes?”
Mr.
Moon: “…”
At the thought of this hotheaded kid taking off his shoes and socks during a fight and coming at someone with an “Imagination: Foot of Memory,” he suddenly felt an extraordinary sense of absurdity.
Was this guy really the “key” in his deductions who could turn the tide?
If before meeting him in person, Mr.
Moon had ten-tenths or even nine-tenths confidence in his deductions, now he was starting to feel uncertain.
The two were silent for a while.
The man was the first to break the dead silence in the car.
He turned around, hands behind his back, and looked at the starry sky outside the window.
“Ye Cang…
if you were given a chance to save this world, but the price is experiencing endless death, pain, and madness, would you still be willing to become that unknown hero?”