Chapter 288
He spoke that name.
RWIA.
An entity, a system, or a consciousness that now resided within him and also within Erietta, one of his observation targets.
The mere mention of it felt like drawing back the curtain on a parallel reality running beneath the noisy façade of the amusement park.
Not a tangible form that could be touched or seen, RWIA was a presence bound to consciousness, a hidden third eye that remained active as long as it was needed.
Then came the explanation that changed everything.
The function of RWIA allowed him to monitor Erietta and Ilux from anywhere, unbound by physical distance or direct line of sight.
This meant that Theo's consciousness could split.
One part could continue to observe, track, and record the movements of the two targets through an invisible connection, while the other part—along with his physical body—was free to move and fulfill other needs.
It was an answer that was both liberating and startling.
He did not need to stop the mission, because the mission itself had evolved, operating on a deeper layer, unaffected by the physical act of leaving to buy drinks.
"If RWIA can really observe from a distance, why did you bother following me from the beginning? Why not just use RWIA?"
'In essence, she's questioning the need for direct tailing when remote monitoring would suffice. Typical of a girl who thinks too far ahead.'
Aldraya's confusion did not fade, instead crystallizing into a sharper and more fundamental sense of wonder.
If RWIA's capabilities were truly that powerful, able to observe from afar without being limited by distance, then why go through the trouble of hiding behind disguises, pushing through crowds, and carefully noting every movement in a worn yellow notebook?
This question was no longer about stepping away to a drink stall, but struck at the core of their entire effort.
The look she gave Theo this time no longer held sadness or doubt, but a keen analytical glint, attempting to unravel the logic behind Theo's actions, which now seemed contradictory.
Aldraya's awareness drifted backward, to a moment when Theo had followed her toward Quil-Hasa, the Creator figure who had once cast her down from the throne of the Supreme Angels.
Back then, Theo had possessed nothing but his own footsteps, forced ingenuity, and a sliver of luck.
There had been no autonomous authority within RWIA at that time.
He had walked cautiously, hiding, piecing together simple strategies—an ordinary detective struggling to navigate a complex reality.
That memory served as tangible proof that there were limits, that physical observation and direct presence had once been crucial.
And now, suddenly, on this sweltering afternoon in an amusement park, Theo revealed a new fact that seemed to rewrite all the rules of the game.
It was this contradiction that confused Aldraya.
On one side, there was Theo who patiently and diligently followed the date of two teenagers as if every second were a treasure not to be missed, recording their clothes, their expressions, even the types of rides they chose.
On the other side, there was Theo who casually stated that he could perform all of that observation remotely, even while sitting comfortably at a drink stall.
Which one was true?
Had all of Theo's efforts so far been an unnecessary performance?
Or was there another layer of truth yet to be revealed?
"It hurts."
"Only for a moment. But that's not important."
Fhuuuuh!
"Knowing something through RWIA's data and experiencing it firsthand are two completely different things."
Theo withdrew his hand, leaving behind a faint warmth on Aldraya's pale cheeks.
The motion was smooth, transitioning from a grounding pinch into a light yet deliberate flick against the center of Aldraya's smooth forehead.
The flick was a punctuation mark in their physical conversation, a decisive period before a longer sentence was spoken.
Aldraya instinctively frowned, a mild complaint about the "pain" that was likely more surprise than actual hurt, and Theo, fully confident that his mischief was controlled, knew that no mark had been left on that perfect skin.
That complaint became a natural opening for the deeper explanation he had prepared.
Then, in a calm yet resolute voice, Theo laid out the core distinction.
He explained the wide gulf between merely knowing something and truly experiencing it.
Knowledge from RWIA, he said, would provide data.
It could tell him where Erietta and Ilux were, the rise in their heart rates when boarding a ride, perhaps even statistical analyses of how often they laughed.
All of that was raw, cold, detached information.
But that data would never capture the tinkle of Erietta's laughter carried by the wind, would never record the sunlight catching her green hair as she turned, or seize the shy expression Ilux hid behind his relaxed smile.
"I understand. Let's go."
Hearing that explanation, a clearer understanding began to pierce the fog of confusion in Aldraya's mind.
She realized that Theo's motivation had never been as simple as completing a task or merely collecting data.
Behind his discipline and his yellow notebook lay something more human, a desire to immerse himself in the current of lived experience, to feel the pulse of the story as it unfolded, not just read its synopsis.
This time, her nod was no longer born of blind obedience or lingering confusion, but of calm acceptance.
She understood that for Theo, the value of observation lay in sensory and emotional participation, in the inner satisfaction gained only by standing amid the scents, sounds, and atmosphere where a memory was being formed.
That nod also became permission, an act of trusting surrender.
By nodding, Aldraya seemed to say that she trusted Theo's judgment, both regarding RWIA's capabilities and the importance of direct experience.
She allowed it, not through words, but through softened body language.
The lethargy that had weighed on her from thirst and old memories began to lift, replaced by a clear decision.
She was ready to go, to follow Theo a few steps away from their observation post, because now she was certain that Theo's unseen eyes would remain on watch, and that leaving this time was not neglect, but a necessary interlude.
With the permission granted by that nod, a silent agreement formed between them.
'Is this what people call the sensation of falling in love?
Beautiful, yet making the heart race uncontrollably.'
Time moved on, a brief interlude filled with the chime of a cashier's bell, the hiss of crushed ice, and the sweet scent of syrup lingering in the stuffy air behind the kiosk.
Now, in their hands, rested four cold, dewy glass bottles filled with enticing amber-colored tea.
Two bottles immediately found their place in Theo's and Aldraya's grips, while the other two were tucked into a small bag, a prudent reserve for thirst that might return during the long observation.
Those bottles were more than simple thirst-quenchers.
They were markers of a temporary ceasefire between mission discipline and the needs of a mortal body, tangible proof that the two could coexist.
They began walking back, retracing the same path they had rushed through earlier.
Their steps were more relaxed now, accompanied by the cool sensation spreading from their palms through their bodies, easing the heat of the afternoon.
To be continued…