The story rewinds to the days shortly after Mobius and Saria first met.
"Miss Saria, could you… cover that up a little? The book you're holding is kind of embarrassing for me to look at…"
Inside Mobius's private office, she sat behind her desk eating from a lunchbox, watching with a hint of exasperation as the white-haired woman on the sofa calmly flipped through a book.
The title—The Psychology of Long-Lived Species—looked awkward no matter how she saw it.
Mobius knew of this book. It was written by a long-lifer who had jotted down his own observations. In Mobius's eyes, the author was a complete fool.
Sure, Mobius had written things like diaries herself before—immature little notes about trivial matters—but they were harmless if read. Not like this idiot, who'd laid bare every detail of his inner thoughts on paper.
"I don't need to hide it. I'm just trying to understand you better," Saria said, seriously flipping through the pages.
Despite being written by an unknown author, the book was highly praised in academic circles. Supposedly, a long-lifer with too much free time had written it after observing himself and the few of his kind he knew.
The sample size was small, making the conclusions feel less rigorous. But after all, which long-liver would willingly allow themselves to be observed? This might very well be the only detailed record of its kind.
"For most long-lived species—at least those I know—lies are the easiest thing to detect."
"I can't explain exactly why, but it feels like a talent granted to us by sheer experience. We can instinctively tell when a short-lifer is lying."
"Among us, those with 'stream of consciousness' tendencies are particularly sharp."
"I once had a long-liver friend of that type. He told me that for him, whenever a short-lifer lies in his presence, it feels like a personal provocation."
"Haha! As for me, though I can see through many lies, I've still been tricked by those little ones plenty of times. Perhaps not all long-livers are as discerning as those of the stream-of-consciousness type."
From the text, it was clear the author was an optimistic long-liver, friendly toward short-lifers, though not exactly scientifically rigorous.
Still, Saria felt she had gained a lot of useful insights.
Her conclusion was simple: Mobius must be one of those stream-of-consciousness long-lifers—because her body was far too "fragile."
"The best way to get along with a stream-of-consciousness long-liver is to treat them with absolute sincerity."
Saria read this line aloud, right in front of Mobius.
"…You really are too sincere."
It was one of the rare times Mobius was left speechless.
---
Back to the present.
Mobius herself couldn't even tell whether it was Saria taking her to the amusement park, or her taking Saria there.
Looking back, when they had accompanied Ifrit and Silence, it hadn't been obvious—but now it was clear. Saria's knowledge of amusement parks was practically zero.
Back then, the pattern had been the same: Silence took Ifrit to the rides, while Saria waited on a bench in the rest area, occasionally chatting with Mobius's passing staff.
And as for Saria's father—he had never once taken her to an amusement park.
Because of that, she was even less familiar with such places than Mobius was.
At least Mobius still retained someone else's memories of amusement parks.
Even if they weren't truly her own.
---
The two of them went on the roller coaster, though it proved far too tame for either of them.
After all, both had long grown accustomed to far greater thrills in their lives.
Next, they tried the bumper cars. But Saria was disappointed to find that the little vehicles were slower than she could run on her own.
Not as fun as I imagined.
Boring.
That was what both she and Mobius thought.
Then they tried the Ferris wheel. But even the view from its highest point could not compare to looking down from the top of the Rhine Lab headquarters.
Saria began to feel like her own suggestion of "let's go to the amusement park" had been nothing short of idiotic.
A Rhine Lab Security Director and a long-lived being who had weathered centuries of turmoil… spending a day at an amusement park.
What kind of cruel joke was this?
But since we're already here… might as well finish every ride.
That was the thought Saria held onto.
---
By the time evening came, the two of them had gone through every single attraction.
"…Sorry. I wasted your whole day."
Saria turned to the visibly tired Mobius, who was sitting back in a chair.
"It's fine. Actually, this was my first time visiting an amusement park too. Let's just say it was… educational."
Kashchey answered with a faint smile.
The truth was, she was in rather good spirits today.
Not because the rides were entertaining—hardly that.
But because she could feel Saria's genuine goodwill.
As an incorporeal consciousness, she could clearly sense her memories and emotions.
And really—who wouldn't enjoy being enveloped in that kind of warmth?
---
"Saria… you're planning to follow Ifrit to Rhodes Island, aren't you?"
"Yes. The power within her is too dangerous. I'm afraid she might lose control."
"Then let me offer you some advice. Of course, whether you take it or not is up to you."
"…Go ahead."
"Be careful of the one they call the Doctor. That person is dangerous."
"I understand."
"If you run into trouble over there, send me a message. I've got acquaintances within Rhodes Island as well~"
"…Thank you."
"So then—goodbye?"
"Goodbye."
---
Duke Kashchey set foot in Chernobog.
He wore no noble attire, only simple plainclothes.
The [Sarcophagus] hasn't been activated yet?
That was part of his reason for coming—to confirm whether the Sarcophagus had awakened.
The other reason was to see Natalya, the ursus noble girl.
After all, he had looked after her for a time. To him, she was like a young pet he had once raised.
There was still a trace of attachment there.
He had already sent word to Natalya's father, letting him know he would arrive at noon.
It was a Saturday—no school today.
But Kashchey had reached the city by ten in the morning.
I suppose I'll wander for a while.
Kashchey walked without any real destination.
He was not fond of breaking his promises.
---
"Natalya, there's no need to be so nervous… The Duke Kashchey himself even held you when you were little, remember?"
Natalya's father—the current head of House Rostov—looked helplessly at his daughter, who was pacing back and forth in agitation.
Ever since receiving the Duke's letter, she had been in a constant state of tension.
She used to be so at ease around him when she was a child… Why is she like this now that she's grown up?
"…I'm sorry, Father. I just can't calm myself down."
Her face flushed with anxiety, and the head of House Rostov could only sigh.
"When His Grace arrives, you must not forget your manners. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Father."
With that, he turned to instruct the servants to prepare suitable accommodations for the Duke.
As one of Ursus's great prides, Duke Kashchey's status was second to none. To show him the slightest discourtesy was unthinkable.
But my daughter really is acting strangely… Surely she hasn't developed feelings for the Duke?
The thought made the lord of Rostov chuckle at himself.
After all, it was like imagining a Lateran citizen falling in love with the cross itself.
To the people of Ursus, Duke Kashchey was something akin to the sun.
And who would ever dream of courting the sun?