"HAHAHAHA!"
Hearing her finally say his name and order a drink, Aha suddenly burst into a fit of joyous laughter, tossing the playing cards high into the air and scattering them all over the bar top.
"Wonderful! Wonderful! Finally, a third living... well, or barely still 'living' one, has come to visit Aha's shabby little tavern! Who would have thought that among all the taverns out there, the one Aha personally opened would be the loneliest."
He slapped the bar top vigorously, making the glasses clink and rattle, his voice filled with exaggerated "emotion" and self-mockery, "Aha is embarrassed! Aha is embarrassed!" (Aha's phrase from aha stuffed toy occurrence)
...
"So where exactly is this place?" Cyrene didn't touch the drink that had materialized on the bar, shimmering with an unusual luster. She asked the question again.
"Why be so fixated on the location?" Aha tilted his head, the expression on his mask seeming to carry a hint of mockery, or perhaps just simple curiosity. "All you need to know is that here, you do have a chance to help Asterion."
Aha's fingers tapped lightly on the table, producing a soft knocking sound, his tone turning somewhat meaningful.
"And... here, you will encounter the most authentic, and also the most 'fragile' side of that Asterion."
"Most authentic... and most 'fragile'?" Cyrene repeated the words, her heart clenching as if gripped by something.
She immediately thought of Phaethon's abnormal state, a direct speculation flashing through her mind.
"Is it because... those recurrences memories that don't belong to him are too numerous, too heavy, to the point of crushing his own consciousness structure?" She took a deep breath, trying to calm her surging emotions.
"Hee hee..." Aha let out a light, amused laugh, wagging his index finger. "Perhaps... it's not just that?"
Aha leaned forward slightly, his mask seeming to press close to Cyrene's face, his voice dropping to nearly a whisper yet remaining perfectly clear:
"The problem now isn't that there are too many 'memories' that don't belong to him..."
"It's that... the things he remembers now are too few, pathetically few..."
"Too few...?!"
These two words pierced Cyrene's thoughts like ice picks! Her pupils contracted, a chill shooting straight from the soles of her feet to the top of her head!
"What do you mean by that?" A flicker of worry crossed Cyrene's eyes.
"Here's a little hint: that existence named Asterion now relies almost completely on that answer called 'Preservation'."
"Completely... relies?" Hearing Aha's hint, Cyrene suddenly recalled the memory fragments Mem had previously transmitted to her—fragments filled with a large amount of blank spaces and unconnectable pieces.
So... that scene was the true state of Phaethon's own memory bank?
Those blanks and fragments were all the memories he now possessed?
Didn't that mean... the current Phaethon, in a sense, was fundamentally no different from a patient who had suffered trauma resulting in partial or even extensive memory loss?!
No wonder Aha said Phaethon's existence almost completely relies on 'Preservation'!
If a person's memories were a river, Phaethon's current situation was like the river water of memory having receded, leaving only the traces named 'Preservation' in the original riverbed.
But... how did it come to this?
Thinking of this, an overwhelming wave of sorrow and pain, impossible to suppress, instantly flooded Cyrene.
Choosing to enter Phaethon's consciousness world was the right decision—she had to help him!
Catching the firm determination that instantly ignited on Cyrene's face, Aha seemed to witness some extremely intriguing spectacle, letting out a low, pleased chuckle.
He shook his head casually, as if negating the wish of an innocent child.
"Heh... looking at your expression now..." His voice carried the mockery of one who sees through everything.
"You're already scheming in your heart, aren't you? To be a diligent repairman, piecing together his shattered memories bit by bit, digging out that buried 'self' layer by layer, right?"
He paused, his tone acquiring a trace of pity:
"Unfortunately... he himself might not even want those memories anymore."
Then, as if losing interest in continuing the topic, he casually waved his finger, pointing toward the tavern's seemingly ordinary wooden door, whose destination was unknown.
"Never mind..." His voice returned to its previous laziness. "He's 'outside'... if you insist on seeing with your own eyes what he's like now, on confirming that 'fragility' with your own eyes..."
He made a "be my guest" gesture.
"Go find him yourself."
The meaning in his words was perfectly clear—the path has been shown to you; but the truth ahead may not be as warm as you hope.
Upon hearing this, Cyrene stood up straight and left the tavern. She only had the time of a few drinks left; no matter what, she had to help Phaethon.
Cyrene placed her hand firmly on that seemingly ordinary wooden door.
Just then, Aha's voice drifted over from behind her again:
"Hey hey, wait—you're not really planning to rely on this little bit of 'Remembrance' power you have, to just plunge right in and naively sort out his memories, which are thousands of times more tangled than a messy knot, are you?"
Aha's voice carried an exaggerated, almost joking tone.
"If it were just to 'browse' through them superficially, like those passing 'Nameless' do, that would be one thing..." His tone suddenly shifted, becoming deep and full of warning.
"But if you want to help him sort out, repair, and re-anchor everything from beginning to end, meticulously... hmph, then the pain he once endured—the tearing sensation of being washed and torn by numerous memories—you will experience firsthand, without missing a single bit."
He paused, as if to make the warning more profound, continuing in that tone: "Moreover, Pure Child of Anāsrava, your 'time'... tsk tsk, isn't exactly abundant."
"To complete such a vast project before you completely fade away, you would not only need to travel far beyond what you can imagine on the path of 'Remembrance', but the pain you would have to endure... would also be hundreds, thousands of times more intense than what he experienced, you know?"
Faced with this unusually serious warning from Aha, Cyrene's hand on the door handle didn't tremble in the slightest. Her voice was as calm as a deep pool, carrying an unshakable determination:
"I will save him."
"No matter what pain I have to bear, no matter how far I have to walk on the path of 'Remembrance'."
"I will... save him!"
"..."
A brief silence fell over the tavern. Even the dust floating in the air seemed to freeze. Aha's figure, always exuding an aura of joy, seemed to momentarily pause in the dim light, that eternal mockery seemingly briefly replaced by some other emotion.
Then, his offbeat voice rang out again, but now it seemed tinged with a barely perceptible hint of emotion:
"Preparing to walk far on the path of 'Remembrance', Pure Child of Anāsrava? Fate... really is a terrifying thing, isn't it? Always making people make choices that are exactly the same."