She suddenly stopped talking, turned to look out the window. Ian followed her gaze, seeing several Pikachu chasing a Gabumon, their shadows stretching long under the moonlight.
This scene.
Once again stirred the curiosity within Ian that he had previously forgotten to inquire about.
"What's the deal with those Alchemy Creations outside?"
Ian changed the topic.
He genuinely felt this peculiar island was somewhat absurd, though he thought the absurdity might amuse the Female Titan. Speaking of which, Claire's eyes suddenly lit up. She put down the game console, becoming much more animated. "Ah! This I can tell you about!"
She excitedly patted the bed beside her.
Indicating for Ian to sit down. Ian hesitated for a moment, but then went over and sat down. The bed was even softer than he imagined, filled with feathers, almost swallowing him whole.
"Did you know?" she whispered, "When I was a child, I was also a Little Titan."
This was certainly a redundant statement.
Yet Ian still nodded, gesturing for her to continue.
"So, this was from my childhood."
Claire's voice suddenly became gentle, laced with nostalgia, "Back then I was a Little Titan, about... this tall?" She gestured with her hand to a height of about two meters.
It was apparent.
She likely hadn't grown much over the years. Perhaps even as a two-meter tall child, she remained an anomaly among her peers, different from other Titans.
For this.
Ian did not inquire further.
Because he was also a Little Wizard with emotional intelligence, knowing it's impolite to comment on someone's height. He once was considered the shortest among his peers, too.
Of course.
Not as conspicuous as the Female Titan among Titans, but there's still a tiny bit of empathy regarding height, fortunately, the diet at Hogwarts allowed him to grow quickly.
He now had the height a normal peer should have.
"One day I snuck out to play and found an injured Raven at the edge of the Star Realm. Black feathers, golden eyes, it looked particularly beautiful."
Claire's eyes squinted slightly, as if returning to that moment.
"I originally wanted to roast and eat it..."
She seemed either nostalgic about the past or regretted not tasting the Raven, but the licking lip movement made Ian feel somewhat uneasy.
Ian couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.
"Do you Titans all like roasting things to eat?"
He thought Titans seemed like savages.
Claire nodded confidently.
"Of course! Roasted things taste the best!"
She pointed to the Phoenix Egg in the fireplace as evidence, "But that Raven was particularly smart; it could talk. To avoid being eaten by me, it began telling me stories."
Her voice gradually softened, her fingers unconsciously drawing circles in the air, twinkling starlight followed, forming a blurred Raven shape.
"At that time, I couldn't control power or use Magic. I was just a little girl who loved Drawing." The Female Titan's memories were somewhat distant.
"The Raven appeared just like an ordinary bird, not a Magical Raven, or perhaps it had lost its magical abilities, the only special thing was it could talk."
The Female Titan's memories made Ian raise an eyebrow.
"The Raven had no special abilities but could still talk?"
Ian was trying to gather more information.
Upon hearing this, the Female Titan also nodded.
"Every day it would shout that it was almost ready to start over." This was quite interesting, the Female Titan sounded slightly amused as she recounted this.
Upon hearing.
Ian was slightly stunned.
The sentence the Female Titan just said.
Kept echoing in his mind.
"The Raven wants to start over every day."
Upon careful reflection of this phrase.
Ian seemed thoughtful.
He somewhat understood why the Female Titan wasn't surprised when she saw him, even saying he finally achieved his goal—could it be the Raven's goal was to become human again?
"No, that can't be all."
He gradually sat up.
His gaze turned to the Female Titan still playing games after speaking.
"If it were just to become human again, he wouldn't leave so many loose ends, involving both Merlin, Titans, and Gods; this was all carefully arranged."
Ian pondered deeply in his mind.
"An existence wanting to 'start over' wouldn't be so persistent in making such arrangements."
He recalled the Raven teaching Merlin Magic, imparting knowledge. That wasn't just a bird escaping danger flattering Merlin; it was sowing seeds of some profound intent.
"Perhaps, starting over is just one of its means of achieving the goal."
Ian murmured, "Rather than the ultimate aim."
This was indeed an insightful line of thought, as he looked out the window, starlight sprinkled over the island, the Phoenix hovered in the distance, silent and solemn like a Guardian.
"Then here's the question…"
Ian softly asked himself.
"What is the Raven's true aim?"
Even though he really wanted to know the answer.
But he still didn't have the kind of knowing-desire-like the Female Titan said—after all, wouldn't one know what one truly wants?
At this moment.
The Female Titan continued speaking.
"To avoid being caught and made into soup, the Raven did many things."
"It told me lots and lots of stories about wondrous creatures from different worlds. There were electric mice, evolving digital beings, talking cars, and transforming robots..." Claire's eyes were shining, "It even taught me Painting, saying this way I could record things from my imagination."
Speaking of which, she suddenly jumped up, ran to a large box in the corner of the room, and forcefully lifted the lid. Inside, neatly stacked, were thousands upon thousands of sketches, each preserved perfectly new.
"Look! These are all paintings I did when I was a child!" Claire carefully carried out a stack of drawings, handing them to Ian like treasures, unexpectedly keeping childhood items.
Ian could hardly remember where things from his childhood were thrown.
This life.
The last life.
It seemed he never had the thought of keeping memories.
"The drawings are pretty good." Ian accepted the sketches, the fingertips felt a slight magic fluctuation. The first showed a Pikachu, though the lines were naive, the spirit was captured well. The second had a Mechanical Tyrannosaurus, the third displayed Doraemon... Each drawing corner had a date and a scrawled signature: Claire.
"Is this... painted by you?"
Ian saw a depiction of Cthulhu.
"Yes."
She smiled.
A hint of nostalgia in her eyes.
"Those were my works before meeting the Raven."
Undoubtedly.
She indeed possessed a talent for Painting, with a sort of primal origin feeling, being uncertain if this initial work was now wandering somewhere in the universe.
Can't say for sure.
Really can't say for sure...
After all, this Female Titan even created Pocket Monsters and Digimon, from a Psychology standpoint, there's a high probability of creating her initial work.
If it truly is the case.
Who knows if anyone might encounter Cthulhu among stars in future generations, those novels about Cthulhu mythos, perhaps like Wizardry, aren't just fiction?
Ian's thoughts continually flowed.
The Female Titan kept flipping through her Paintings. She continued turning pages, every picture telling a story: Bulbasaur rolling in flower beds, Gomamon drinking water by the stream, Flying Insect Beast circling in the air… These creatures, though nonexistent in reality, became vivid and lively on her canvas.
At least a long time ago, they were already vivid.
Nowadays.
They have truly come to life.
"From childhood, I swore to myself to make these little creatures real." Claire's voice filled with pride, "Thus, this island and the human community you see were created."
Undoubtedly.
About this.
Ian had long surmised.
Just never guessed where she acquired such information, initially suspecting a fellow Transmigrator, now it seems evidence points to being a Transmigrator's pupil?
No matter if the Raven is actually her.
Anyway.
To know these things.
The Raven being a Transmigrator surely wasn't wrong.