He is the leader of the Tantric sect in Chagdu.

What time is it now?

Eileen blinked, and a muffled sound, as if she were hallucinating, came to her ears, along with many ethereal shadows that flashed past her like a revolving lantern.

The clock, its hands turned by the magnanimous, silently restores everything to a state as if nothing had ever happened.

In the silence, no one noticed.

Lin had just entered the kitchen when Ellen was lying on the bar, lost in thought, the red liquid in her abdomen silent—at this time, she hadn't yet gone mad and tried to seduce the two from the Countermeasures Bureau, so they were still reliable teammates!

That's great, we escaped a disaster...

With a heavy sigh of relief, Eileen lifted her head from her sleeve and found that the glasses she was holding had also been restored. She casually prepared to put them back on—

Eh...

Wait, something's up!

Eileen stared blankly at her right arm, wondering why it felt so heavy...

The next moment he was dumbfounded. On his shoulder, which had visibly slumped, a jet-black crow was silently watching him, its black eyes unblinking...

"Didn't you leave, boss?!"

Eileen was almost thrown away by the crow, but she quickly realized something was wrong. The Si Chen crow had no weight before, but this one was incredibly heavy, making her entire arm go numb. Moreover, it didn't have the obvious sense of oppression that Si Chen had; it just looked like an ordinary big black bird.

He tried to move his arm, and the crow cawed in dissatisfaction, jumping from his shoulder onto the bar and tilting its head to examine him.

Eileen instantly felt relieved. This was clearly not the real Si Chen anymore; the person who called out was making a "coo coo coo" sound.

Moreover, having gotten used to the "coo" sound, Eileen now finds the normal cawing of crows a bit noisy; the noise is just too loud.

Sherlock was equally startled—"Hey, where did this bird come from...?"

Having just emerged from Si Chen's influence, he was clearly still a bit dazed, wondering "why a large bird could bypass my senses," while Ellen on the other side had already begun interacting with the crow, simultaneously stirring with restless intent—

He remembered that the advanced ritual of the Path of Revelation required a raven feather, and now a live animal was being delivered right to his door—since this raven was no longer Sichen, lending it a feather wouldn't be a problem, right…?

I suggest you don't.

"?"

Eileen stared blankly at the words that appeared in the center of her retina, feeling a sense of déjà vu about the presentation. She tilted her head and said, "Wait, a door?"

This is the first time the Ash Wood Gate has spoken to Ellen on its own initiative. Although it was discovered long ago that the gate seemed to have self-awareness, it is now finally confirmed.

The door ignored him and continued typing: "Although in essence it is just an ordinary raven, as the vessel through which Si Chen descended just now, this raven is already equivalent to the apostle of the Silent Raven in terms of mystery. Plucking the feathers of Si Chen's apostle in front of him is somewhat impolite."

Eileen: Indeed.

"Moreover, the original text is projected into the raven's red liquid, look—"

As she spoke, from Elaine's perspective, a line of small, gleaming gold characters appeared above the raven's head: "Original Text: The Silent Sequel".

"Doesn't this look much more impressive?"

indeed.

Eileen rubbed her temples. "So, it's an original text shaped like a raven, right...?"

Since that's the case, we should cultivate a good relationship with it. This way, we'll not only have the feather material, but it will also be much easier to flip through the book later.

Under the strange gazes of Sherlock and Virtin, Ellen tried to communicate with the raven using the "Goo Language," and the resulting scene was roughly as follows:

Eileen: "Coo coo, coo, coo coo coo coo." (Hello, I'm Eileen, nice to meet you. What's your name?)

Crow: "Caw!"

It's obvious that there's a language barrier.

The "language of the winged" can't even communicate with crows, which is a major disappointment.

Eileen was a little deflated, then realized how stupid her behavior had been. Veltin, standing nearby, looked at her with pity, probably thinking she was starving and delirious. So the girl stood up and headed towards the kitchen—

"I'll go and urge them for you too..."

"No need." Lin returned just then, her steps stiff, her expression hard to describe... well, it wasn't a good one, like she had just seen something disgusting.

"What they said, and what I saw behind me, these are some of the few things in the suburbs that look edible—" Lin's voice trailed off, and then everyone watched as the shopkeeper brought a bunch of strangely shaped "food" to the counter, trembling as he said:

Please enjoy your meal.

Ellen glanced at it and saw pickled hamsters, some kind of dried fat from camels, and dried lizards; the rest was unidentifiable.

High-end ingredients require only simple processing, so they are only briefly heated. The fat chunks, whose exact origins are unknown, are all in a semi-melted state, making them look even more disgusting...

To some extent, it is indeed a snack to accompany alcohol; you eat it and then vomit, skipping the digestion process altogether.

But I'd rather eat those nutritional pastes that look like poop and those unregulated canned foods; even industrial waste is better than this.

Eileen was almost in tears: she was in the city and missed the instant noodles she ate last night—just like when she was in Great Britain and wanted to eat a bowl of instant noodles she brought from home in ten different meals, and even threw the empty seasoning packets into her thermos like tea bags.

Sherlock remained calm: "In the far suburbs... what else do you want to eat? Don't be fooled by this bar; those brightly colored drinks are all made with industrial alcohol and dyes. There's a reason why they don't live past thirty-five on average..."

Eileen rolled her eyes, picked up a piece of indescribable "food," and handed it to Sherlock. The old man dodged backward while muttering, "Don't worry, it's not dead."

Is he really not dead?

Eileen hesitated, wondering whether he should continue to go hungry... Suddenly, he felt someone tug at his clothes, the force weak but familiar.

"Huh?" He looked down at the little girl with red eyes who stood timidly beside him, her little hands reaching up, pulling his sleeve, and her little legs resting on his knees.

"You want to eat this?" Ellen frowned, initially wanting to refuse—how could she let a child eat this kind of thing?

But then he remembered that Nemesis didn't seem to be an ordinary human; she was a mechanical girl.

Is she really not picky about food at all?

Nie Du was almost within reach of him. After a moment's thought, Ellen sighed, thinking that dolls shouldn't have the setting of getting sick from eating too much food. Under Virtin's "looking at a scumbag" gaze, she quietly handed the food to her mouth.

He said in a deep voice, "You are only allowed to taste one bite. If you don't like it, spit it out."

"Um……"

Nephew nodded in agreement, then swallowed the lump of food (probably the fat deposit of some kind of animal) in one gulp without even chewing.

Eileen watched this scene with trepidation. The not-quite-solidified liquid was squeezing Nie's already narrow throat out of shape, making her worry that he might suffocate.

There seems to be no reaction.

"Is it tasty?"

Although he already knew the answer in his heart, Eileen still couldn't help but ask. Actually, he was also very curious about where the food the doll ate ended up, but asking directly would seem like he was a pervert, so he could only probe indirectly, "What did it taste like?"

"smell?"

Nie tilted his head, a hint of confusion flashing in his bright red eyes.

It's like the natural bewilderment that arises when you come into contact with something that doesn't exist in the world.

.

"smell……"

"It's the taste. You usually eat a lot of sweet foods, and the cookies are salty..."

Eileen was taken aback, but couldn't utter another sound. "You...don't you have a sense of taste?"

Nee had always acted so much like a living person that Ellen completely overlooked certain details.

But that doesn't make sense. She's such a glutton—she'll even sneak a bite of the cup noodles that I've left uneaten. There's no way she wouldn't have a sense of taste. That just doesn't make sense.

Seeing Nie shake his head blankly, Ellen felt a pang of sadness. It was a... faint yet clear emotion, like a blot of ink on a blank sheet of paper, its origin unknown, yet flowing into her veins like asbestos fibers, piercing her heart, bringing a stinging and painful sensation.

Wait a minute, Ai, when did you become so empathetic?

He chuckled self-deprecatingly, feeling it was a bit of an overreaction—as a puppet, Nie was probably already used to a world without taste, so what was he worrying about…

Just because of her closeness and dependence on me? And...

"A sense of responsibility without reason."

It's similar to the mentality I had when dealing with that stupid bird.

Eileen fell into deep thought: Not long ago, he had discovered part of the original owner's identity. Although it was not yet specific, he could still piece together a rough outline: the mentor of the "Mirror of Radiance," the leader of the "Monster Cult," the former master of the distant suburbs, and the nightmare that once lingered under the dome of the lower city...

It's clearly a boss-level character. If it were in a game, the background music would probably change automatically when it appears, and its health bar would be displayed on the screen.

Combining this with the way Nie addressed her as "Father" before, even the slow-witted Ellen had figured it out: the person who created Nie, or who once possessed Nie, was her original self, the one who shone with the light, Gray.

A dead person.

Since Eileen can stand here and think normally, it means that Ash is dead. That mysterious Radiant One has stored his fragmented memories and remaining traces in the red liquid, and is still exerting a subtle influence.

The person who now possesses this body, Ellen herself, is still unaware of the original owner's purpose.

This feeling is terrible.

He then remembered that it was Nie who brought him into the mysterious world... This made Ailian vaguely understand more things - her original self did not really want her, the second generation, to lie around and do nothing, so she used some invisible and intangible guidance, as well as an unknown source of summoning, to bring Ai to the outskirts of the city to explore the echoes of "Ash" again.

He recalled those two short days—actually, only a full day had passed, far too short—and he felt like a player skipping ahead in a fast-forwarded story, having pushed the progress far ahead.

The Secret Transmission of Insight, the Gate of Ash Wood;

Moths, silent crows;

Foundation, Countermeasures Bureau;

Downtown, outskirts...

Veltin, Sherlock, Lynn (this one seems to be just there to make up the numbers).

And Nirvana.

...Ugh, this is too much trouble, I don't want to think about it anymore.

Lazybones' will prevailed, and Eileen felt his head start to ache again. He felt like he would die if he continued thinking about things—perhaps it was also related to his extreme hunger. Fortunately, he had slept all afternoon before setting off, otherwise, exhaustion would have been a big problem.

"My original self... what exactly did you want to leave me?"

Seeing Nie also lost in thought beside her, Ellen was driven by an inexplicable impulse to pat her head. That gray hair really looked like, or rather, was exactly the same as, her own gray fur in her fox form. No wonder Lin had misunderstood.

Looking at it up close, even Ellen herself felt like she had gained a younger sister or daughter. This feeling wasn't unpleasant; in fact, it was quite nice.

Having another acquaintance allows one to see a familiar color in this chaotic, dark land.

not bad……

.

Ai stared blankly into those beautiful red eyes that seemed to flow with the blood of roses—

Crows began to caw in his ear, but he could not hear them clearly; his unfocused pupils could only see the pulsating black shadow in front of him.

He stretched out his hand, and a crow landed on his palm; it was heavy.

Why is it so heavy...?

Ai started to have wild thoughts.

He blankly recalled that he was originally a traveler in this world, a rootless person, a person who had lost his homeland.

In the three months since the reopening, apart from that stupid bird, Ai Yi hasn't developed any further relationships with anyone. Even Lin, before the moth incident, was just a tool to consume snacks to gain favor and make it easier to clock in at work.

Colleagues stay at the company, mascots stay in the office, friends... I have no friends.

What a useless piece of trash...

.

Eileen sighed, and then, under the shocked gazes of everyone, calmly stuffed a piece of fat into her mouth.

Surprisingly, it wasn't bad... The texture was indeed terrible, but fortunately it had no taste at all, just like eating a mouthful of sticky air.

"Ugh... this thing really has no taste."

He chuckled to himself, then heard a crow caw strangely beside him. Faintly, a bone-white scar appeared in the center of that gray eye, and as black embers fell, the door slightly ajar.

"Ember... it carries on the memory of winter; it is the charred remains after all things have burned out, this is the reason for remembrance."

"recall……"

What can I do with reminiscence?

Eileen closed her eyes and listened quietly to the invisible red liquid flowing in her ears. It scattered, fell, and settled, like the snow of late winter, filling the gaps in her chest with a layer of pure white snow. If you gently brushed away the snow on the surface, you would see the earth, the scorched earth.

Ellen suddenly felt a pang of loneliness...

The traces I left were too shallow and too thin.

What is there to remember about a life that lasted only three months?

.

.

He slammed his head against the bar, his eyes glazed over.

The next moment, without warning or foreshadowing… a detached, resolute, and unforgiving sorrow overwhelmed him, like witnessing a raging fire, where everything he knew burned fiercely in the flames, until black rain fell from the sky, and the cold wind swept countless ashes to his feet, burying the little gray fox. He looked up at the sky, at the desolate, deathly silence of dusk.

The overwhelming pain, like the world-ending flood recorded in the Book of Revelation, engulfed him.

Ai felt desperate.

Far from everything familiar, I've arrived at this illogical... nest filled with pain and despair, witnessing the world decay and listening to the cries of all living beings—

I'm done.

He covered his head and plugged his ears. He heard someone calling his name, but the incessant cawing of crows drowned out every familiar voice.

sink.

asphyxia.

The door seemed to be taunting: "You look like you're about to drown."

Yes, I think I'm drowning.

Eileen knew this couldn't go on, but he couldn't control his heart. In the intervals between blissful dazes and spasms, the only thing that could bring him a little peace was the increasingly bright light from the doorway filtering through his fingers and imprinted on his retina:

The text also carries a hint of humor: "Isn't this a great way to empathize?"

"Bullshit!"

Ai gritted his teeth, his voice trembling as he questioned, "Is this also something Mo Ya left me?"

"Silent Raven? No, He hasn't had time to treat your psychological problems yet. You just leaned two lines towards 'Ember,' which is normal for triggering memories; everyone who obtains the Ember Criterion will experience this. But like patients with rare allergens, most people are fine—but you are special; your symptoms are excessively intense."

"Special?" Ai calmed down a bit. "Because I've only been in this world for three months..."

"Yes, when a normal person is reminiscing, they wander through their life experiences, searching for traces of the past. But you, Ai, your experiences are too thin—three months without any ups and downs or memorable moments. That's not enough to support a 'reminiscence.' So, those superfluous, nowhere-to-go forces of reason will overwhelm your three cavities, bringing you here—to the emptiness in your soul, the wound in your heart."

"Here, you feel lost, and that loss turns into fear. You feel isolated, and that isolation turns into despair. In the cracks of your crimson fluid, an invisible substance beyond your control has accumulated, and the walls of your heart have been shattered—do you understand now?"

…I see.

Ai opened her eyes, looked at the dilapidated world bathed in the twilight before her, and managed a weak smile.

"Although it was very sudden, without any transition or warning, this is probably how it should be."

He murmured softly:

I "lost control."