Edward yawned as he got out of bed, groggily hugging Q while calling Fortune over to wash up.
After finishing the script for Alien earlier that morning, he'd suddenly felt a wave of drowsiness and gone back to bed, only waking up again at 10 a.m.
The good news: the script for Alien was done. Edward was quite satisfied with it—it was very close to the plot of the original Alien 1, complete with androids and facehuggers. He'd even chosen which Pokémon to include.
The bad news: he didn't have time to start production.
He still had some unfinished work piling up—like an ongoing variety show, and the unanswered question of why Cinderella and the story of Lotus Lantern appeared in records from the Hisui region. Not to mention that he hadn't even begun production on Sherlock Holmes: Season 2.
Season 2 was crucial. With so many ads and sponsorships lined up, if Edward suddenly announced he was shelving it to shoot a new film instead, the investors' backlash would drown him.
So, even though the Alien script was ready, actual production would have to wait until Sherlock Holmes: Season 2 was finished.
Thankfully, the Unova League's sci-fi movie contest had a long submission window, so there was no rush.
After washing up, Edward brought Zoroark along and headed back to the ruins from the day before. He hoped to find more clues—something that could confirm the identity of the person who wrote those books. If he could do that, everything might finally connect.
Zoroark seemed deep in thought the whole way there, but Edward didn't ask. Based on what happened yesterday, he didn't expect Zoroark to reveal the truth. If she wanted to talk, she would—no need to push it.
"Edward!"
When they arrived at the excavation site, Cynthia was already inside, covered in dust. Seeing her like that made Edward's eyelids twitch a little.
His older brother and father always looked like that too—dust-covered, gripping chunks of rock, their voices passionate. Cynthia looked just like them now.
"You got here this early?" Edward asked in surprise, stepping into the site. Zoroark, meanwhile, was scanning the surroundings, seemingly searching for something.
"Yeah, there's just so much interesting stuff here." Cynthia said excitedly. She reached out to touch something, but seeing how dirty her hands were, she pulled back, wiped them with a tissue, then took out a stack of photos from her backpack.
"These are the photos we took of those books yesterday. Edward, I swear—you'll never guess what's in them!"
Edward nodded, honestly curious. He really couldn't guess.
Cynthia laid the photos out flat and began explaining them.
"We found that these books likely belonged to a girl, but the content is a bit disorganized," she said, pointing at a photo. Edward leaned in for a closer look. The writing was unfamiliar.
The characters looked somewhat like the modern script, but Edward couldn't read them.
"Here, we found something that looks like a diary," Cynthia said, flipping through the photos and handing Edward a few of them.
He took a glance.
It was written in elegant handwriting—ancient characters.
[July 7, Clear Skies]
My memories are a little fuzzy. While lying in bed last night, I wondered—why did I become like this?
Trying hard... to write a diary.
Afraid of forgetting.
Afraid of losing my memories.
A short diary entry.
"This is the second one."
[July 9, Heavy Rain]
Why am I keeping a diary? After reading the last entry, I feel a little scared.
Was the person who wrote that really me?
Why don't I remember any of it?
Is it because my memory is fading?
Forgetting...
Maybe it's not such a bad thing.
But why does it make me want to cry?
Another diary entry.
"What about the earlier entries?" Edward asked, puzzled by something. He'd noticed a key detail—the writer had clearly been keeping a diary before, and back then, her memories were still intact. So those early entries should contain more information.
"We couldn't find them. We searched the best-preserved room thoroughly, but there were no other diaries. The other books just contain random, fragmented sentences—not very useful for research," Cynthia replied, sounding a bit disappointed.
Still, she showed Edward some of the more meaningless phrases.
"Bite the mouth. Puff up the tongue."
"Hate eating meat."
"Want to sleep. Don't want to sleep. Want to eat meat."
Edward frowned. Indeed, the contents were all over the place and practically impossible to analyze. No wonder Cynthia said they were meaningless.
"Did you find the name of the person who owned the books?" Edward asked—the question that mattered most to him.
This was the key to everything.
"No. All we could tell from the personal belongings was that she lived alone and had a Pokémon with her." Cynthia sighed with regret. Edward pinched his brow in frustration. This really was a letdown.
"But even so, these materials still give us a lot to work with," Cynthia said optimistically. She was disappointed, of course, that they hadn't identified the girl, but this was still valuable information for studying the Hisui era.
Edward nodded. It looked like figuring out why Cinderella appeared in the Hisui era would need a different approach.
Just as Edward was about to wander off to explore another area, Cynthia received a phone call.
Her expression turned serious as she listened.
"What? Team Galactic is mobilizing on a large scale?" Cynthia looked stunned. Edward quietly stepped away, out of earshot.
Team Galactic was stirring again?
That wasn't exactly surprising. These dark organizations never truly stayed quiet. Still, if Team Galactic ever discovered what role their predecessors played in the Hisui era, he wondered how they'd feel about it.
After a moment, Cynthia ended the call.
(End of Chapter)