[Cyrene’s story is hard to let go of.
The reason is that this story broke through the underlying logic of gacha game narratives.] [That is…] [The protagonist of a warm story should have a way out.] [In past stories, everyone had a way out.] [After Mei bid farewell to Elysian Realm, she still had Kiana’s embrace to comfort her.] [The Flame-Chasers’ story came to an abrupt end, but the choice made by the new civilization told the world that the hope they bought with everything was not an illusion.] [The Savior left Amphoreus, but once back on the Astral Express, they were still part of the beloved ‘three of us.’] [Parting may be bitter, but it is also a blessing, because everyone still has their own stories to tell.] [But Cyrene had no way out.
She was like a slum child brought into a shopping mall by a kind stranger to escape the icy rain.
She saw shelves filled with countless goods, beautiful thick clothes, and felt the warm air drying her tattered clothes.
Then the rain stopped, and she could only leave the mall, walk back into the freezing wind, and treasure that fleeting glimpse as warmth deep within her heart.] [A pure, flawless, sincere girl, carrying the most precious, heaviest, and selfless feelings, repeating the cycle again and again as though hypnotizing herself, chasing after that fleeting figure.] [The girl always believed that the Savior was all-powerful, and that They would bring true hope to Amphoreus.] [So the universe returned to peace, the black tide vanished, the sun rose as always, and those most precious, heavy, and selfless feelings never changed.] [Only that pure, flawless, sincere girl personally closed off her own destiny and continued embracing her life as an electrical signal.] [No one cared, because she was Amphoreus’s shadow.
Throughout the endless cycles, Cyrene carried the fate of the world, yet formed few bonds with the Chrysos Heirs.] [No one knew, because she was the tomb of memories.
The past would be washed away by the future until only the present remained, and the figure climbing against the current became increasingly blurred.] [No one listened, because she was the Daughter of Aedes Elysiae.
Great deeds need not be remembered, suffering need not be proclaimed.
Compared to the weight of fate, the flawless her simply wished to see smiles on people’s faces.] [As a story, Amphoreus can hardly be called perfect, but it can at least be said to have a beginning and an end.] [I like stories like this, because in this era, simply having a beginning and an end is already rare, and proper foreshadowing and callbacks are even more precious.] [Besides, art should move people deeply, like noticing the message only after the credits have rolled.] [What could shake people’s hearts more than smashing something perfect into pieces?] [Haha.] […] [But I don’t like this story, because I’m not that kind of hopeless person.] [But I really am a Trailblazer.] ——— Amos vaguely remembered how he felt when he wrote those words.
He had gotten up early that day and rushed into the game the moment it updated.
After pulling the character, he sped through the story with Cyrene.
Excited during the first hour.
Calm during the second.
Thinking during the third.
Surprised during the fourth.
Deep in thought during the fifth.
Silent during the sixth.
During the seventh hour, he played side quests and searched through A Page Eternal and every other bit of story information for traces of Cyrene.
In the end, he found the answer he wanted in As I Have Written.
Before falling asleep, Cyrene had discussed the First Cause of Life with Iron Tomb.
The contents of the conversation were irrelevant, but in the end, Iron Tomb changed its core variable from Destruction to Trailblaze, and output the phrase “hello, world!” as a greeting to the world.
Looking at it this way, Cyrene’s story definitely didn’t end with the cycle.
This had to be one of those happy reunion endings.
With that thought in mind, Amos opened Currency War and spent five hours playing like crazy.
In the end, he successfully created the Honkai: Star Rail version of the Nine-Five Supreme.
Laughing wildly and barking like a dog in the group chat, he finished washing up and lay down in bed while humming.
A beautiful and fulfilling day should have ended like that.
Until Amos habitually picked up his tablet and started scrolling.
Among all the fishing videos, wilderness building videos, speed bump machinery series, and late-night food thumbnails, the pink-haired girl stood out especially.
In the image, she smiled brightly.
Her gentle gaze seemed to pierce through the screen and reach deep into his heart, as though she had never fallen into the eternal cycle.
Amos’s smile paused.
But only for a moment.
The so-called emotional knives that left netizens speechless were nothing more than creative inspiration in his hands.
This was the ease of adulthood.
Two hours later, Amos climbed out of bed and wrote that review, then casually posted it in a crowded comment section.
Not because he sought approval.
Not because he wanted sympathy or shared sorrow.
He simply wanted to put an end to the story.
‘I need proper rest so that I can write my own story with ease, so…’ ‘Leave my heart, Cyrene.’ Amos had thought he would never think of those words again.
Until not long ago…
For no apparent reason, the sun suddenly began expanding.
Chaotic cosmic energy fields swept across Earth, as though some invisible god had lightly blown a breath.
And so, towering waves rose from nowhere, and the seas swallowed ninety percent of the land.
In endless darkness, Amos drifted vaguely.
He didn’t know what form he had.
He didn’t know where he was.
Occasionally, he would “see” strands of color cutting through the darkness, like silk scarves floating in the wind.
Within those indescribably brilliant colors, Amos saw a world melt away, perish, grow, revive, and change, before finally returning to nothingness.
Until a beam of intense light pierced the darkness and endless white filled his vision.
When he came back to himself again, what greeted him was scenery too magnificent for words.
The wheat fields formed an endless sea.
Where the wind passed, wave after wave of golden ripples rose.
Sunlight, rich as honey, dripped from the branches and leaves, filling the air with warmth.
At the end of the fields lay a village with white walls and yellow roofs.
Farther away, white clouds swayed alongside windmills, and ships cut across the golden surface.
Smoke rose from cooking fires, and the fragrance of wheat drifted in the breeze.
Memories that felt unfamiliar yet natural told Amos that this place was Aedes Elysiae, an unnamed corner of Amphoreus untouched even by the chaos of the Flame-Chase.
So…
‘Did I steal someone else’s body, or did I awaken memories from a past life?’ Carrying a hoe on his shoulder, Amos strolled leisurely along the ridges between the fields.
Though everything before him was completely unfamiliar, he felt no sense of alienation whatsoever.
The field at his feet belonged to Teacher Pythias’s family.
She was one of the few teachers in the village and also Amos’s teacher.
The farmer working in the distance was named Manos.
He was skilled at weaving vines.
All the vine baskets used in the village came from him, and whenever neighboring villages sailed over to trade, they would often place orders as well.
The weeds by the roadside were called “Sanzi.” They had strict growing requirements and demanded highly fertile soil.
Logically, they shouldn’t have been able to thrive in the wild.
Yet Sanzi could always be found around the fields, because they produced plenty of fruit, and when ripe, the fruits exploded with a “pop.” They were the favorite ammunition for children’s slingshots.
‘I must have awakened memories from a past life…’ ‘Otherwise, no matter how thoroughly I absorbed these memories, I wouldn’t still be attached to children’s toys.’ ‘After all, I’m an adult.’ Amos casually pulled up a handful of weeds.
Their tough roots remained buried in the earth, the stems and leaves broke apart, and all that remained in his hand were smooth, round, woody fruits like nuts.
Taking off his gray cloth jacket, he filled it with the fruits.
Spinning it in a circle and letting one side loose, the Sanzi fruits shot into the sky like buckshot.
Already close to ripening, the fruits burst apart under the impact with a series of crackling pops.
It was refreshing.
Interesting.
‘Can these things be farmed?’ ‘Could I plant a whole field of them?’ ‘Wait, no need.’ Phainon had already planted a whole patch.
And he had stolen the fertilizer from home.
“…” Thinking of the Savior’s name, Amos fell silent.
The unusually strong emotions in his memories told him that he hadn’t merely transmigrated into Aedes Elysiae.
He had truly lived here for more than ten years.
Phainon.
Cyrene.
These two names, which would one day hold immense significance for Amphoreus, were currently his closest friends.
He had chased through wheat fields with Phainon, using sticks for “duels.” He had aimed slingshots at the sky and wished for a fat bird.
The Sanzi fruits flew upward and fell back into the fields, followed immediately by a farmer’s shout.
And so, that night, Amos opened the door and saw Phainon limping inside.
Hidden beneath his clothes was a fragrant clay pot.
In the end, they had caught a bird.
He had interpreted oracle cards together with Cyrene and argued over whose interpretation was more “perfect.” He had also prayed together with her before the altar of Oronyx.
The villagers of Aedes Elysiae were all very friendly…
Except when it came to prayer.
In that matter, no one gave way.
The good spots were occupied by adults grouped by family.
Since Amos and Cyrene had both been picked up by the village on the same day, they could only huddle together in a corner.
The chanting around them was solemn and orderly, as though Oronyx’s gaze had frozen the atmosphere.
But in that tiny corner, the only things the boy and girl cared about were whether the other had kept up with the rhythm or made mistakes in the prayer.
And how to interfere so the other would lose the rhythm and misread the prayer.
The three of them had opened up a small patch of farmland near the Festival Courtyard and learned to make fertilizer from the adults.
But after several attempts, their crops only grew without bearing fruit.
In the end, Phainon had to secretly bring over some fertilizer from home.
The three split the land equally.
Besides sticks, Phainon liked slingshots the most, so he planted a field of Sanzi.
Cyrene loved stories and all beautiful things, so she planted flowers.
Amos loved eating, and so he remembered a particularly sweet thing he had once eaten in the wild.
Raw, it was sweet and crisp.
Roasted, it became golden and fragrant.
After tasting it, the three little faces covered in soot named it sweet potato.
It was their secret.
They agreed that they would only share sweet potatoes with companions precious enough to deserve them.
Memories of childhood were always especially precious.
Unfortunately, growing up was a process that could not be reversed.
Even if he experienced it again, Amos was no longer the innocent and straightforward child he once was.
After awakening his memories, he had become that cold-hearted man once more.
Phainon’s persistence was moving.
Cyrene’s story left people with lingering regrets.
Amos’s emotions told him that he should act and rewrite Amphoreus’s story.
But reason told him that the first genius of the galaxy was terrifying beyond imagination.
The simulation system designed by that person had been capable of destroying an entire nebula during its trial run.
Someone like him, born in a planetary civilization and lacking even experience with interstellar travel, was just a country bumpkin.
Forget interfering with Lygus’s experiment, he would already be lucky if he could survive a few extra cycles without producing such low-quality data that he polluted the noble beliefs of the Chrysos Heirs and got deleted by Lygus as cache garbage.
Suddenly, a familiar fragrance drifted in the wind.
Turning his head, Amos saw a little girl carrying several bundles of scrolls while hurrying down the path between the fields.
As if sensing something, she looked up at the same moment he looked over.
Immediately, a happy expression appeared on her face, and she skipped lightly toward him.
Even without those countless memories, Amos was certain he would recognize her.
Pink hair.
Pointed ears.
Gentle eyes and a great character.
This was Aedes Elysiae.
And this person was the Daughter of Aedes Elysiae.
His memories from this second childhood and his previous life overlapped, making the beautiful girl even more charming.
But Amos remained unmoved.
Compared to Amphoreus’s fate, he cared more about how to escape Lygus’s control.
How could he avoid Lygus’s attention?
How could he maintain his sense of self through the cycles?
How could he leave Amphoreus and enter the galaxy?
Amos thought coldly, already preparing some perfunctory words to brush the girl off.
Until she waved her soft little hand in front of him.
“Amos?
Amos?” “Why are you spacing out?
Didn’t you sleep well last night, or…” “Did you miss me?~” The girl smiled brightly.
Like a train cutting through darkness.
Like the blazing sun illuminating the sky.
The most sincere feelings shattered all of Amos’s complicated thoughts with ease.
After a brief daze, his reason returned.
His emotions told him that he had to save Cyrene and give the girl before him a true destiny.
But reason told him, ‘What are you thinking?’ Cyrene entered the cycle in order to save Amphoreus.
So if he wanted to save Cyrene, he first had to save Amphoreus.
But he was just an electrical signal from the countryside.
What right did he have to oppose a “genius”?
So…
Are you ready?
Next, we will enter the cycle.
And through nearly endless time, seek the answer to this world until…
We save Amphoreus!