The scenery shifted. Aisen returned to his own living room—standing in the exact same spot where he had vanished.
But this time, there was no gentle, serene greeting from the Fire Keeper waiting for him.
Aisen wasn't surprised she wasn't home.
He hadn't summoned her back to his side. Instead, he chose to go to her.
Mobilizing that large a batch of Administration supplies to support Chaldea—while still within his authorization—had been a major, spur-of-the-moment move.
By both reason and courtesy, he felt he should appear in person and give an explanation.
He used the sub-group's world-travel function to request transfer to the Fire Keeper's current location.
The next second, he was standing inside a vast warehouse.
Today, the Fire Keeper wore a plain, elegant long dress, quietly waiting in an open section of floor.
Beside her stood a woman in a black professional suit—sharp, efficient, holding a thin tablet.
Aisen recognized the role—or rather, the identity. She was an observer assigned by the Administration specifically to record his condition.
He didn't know her name—just as he hadn't known the names of the dozens of observers before her.
He walked forward, speaking with a lightly apologetic smile that broke the warehouse silence.
"Sorry for suddenly requesting such a large materials transfer."
The observer turned. Her gaze behind the lenses was perfectly calm. She shook her head slightly.
"It's nothing, Mr. Aisen. You exercised your authority entirely within the framework of our agreement. Please trust the Administration's capabilities and efficiency—we have complete emergency protocols for handling temporary mobilizations of this kind."
Her voice was clear and even, stripped of any extra emotion.
Aisen nodded to show he understood.
Then his eyes lingered on her face for a moment, and he asked casually:
"Come to think of it, I still don't know your name?"
The observer's composure cracked—just slightly. Her expression turned unusually serious, even deliberately distant.
She straightened her posture a fraction, her tone becoming formal and firm.
"You don't need to know my name, Mr. Aisen.
"Compared to your long life, we observers are merely brief passersby in the river of time."
She paused, choosing her words carefully, then laid out the Administration's rationale.
"Names and call-signs are the beginning of bonds. If we form too deep a connection, then when my term ends—when my life ends—it could impose unnecessary loss of humanity upon you. That is something neither the Administration nor you would want to see. And for us observers…"
Her gaze remained steady.
"If personal feelings prevent us from maintaining an objective standpoint, we lose all qualification to do this work. Therefore, keeping distance is the optimal choice for both sides."
"So that's how it is. Understood," Aisen said.
He raised an eyebrow, accepted the explanation, and offered no judgment or rebuttal.
Across the endless cycles of the First Flame's world, he had witnessed countless collectives and individuals struggling at the approach of the end—survival logics far more extreme and warped than this.
The observer's reasoning, to him, was not flawed.
Dropping the topic, he explained why he'd made the materials request, summarizing the recent situation.
Primarily, he described the existence of the chat group and its members, and clarified where the supplies had gone.
Finally, he added:
"Once the matters involving this batch of group members reach a stable point, I'll take time to do work for the Administration—make up for the resource consumption caused by this supply transfer."
The observer showed no surprise at concepts that would shatter an ordinary person's worldview—other worlds, traversal, a cross-dimensional chat group.
In this world, items—and even information—from other worlds were not rare.
Within academic circles, there was even a mainstream hypothesis that their world might be a landfill: a dumping ground for reclaimed debris after countless worlds had ended.
The first lesson for anyone joining the Administration was restraint—learning to suppress excessive curiosity, because it was often the beginning of disaster.
More than the "chat group" itself, what the observer clearly cared about was the effect these events were having on Aisen.
And she didn't seem overly worried that Aisen would abandon the Salvation Pact.
On the one hand, the pact's original purpose was to stabilize and replenish the humanity he continuously lost by giving him a goal.
On the other hand, to ensure the human spark could survive extreme scenarios, the Administration had prepared at least a thousand different contingency plans. As long as even one worked, human civilization's continuation would be secured.
What truly concerned her was whether these frequent cross-world activities, the connections Aisen was forming with group members, and the emotional fluctuations that followed—might disrupt the calm, stable equilibrium he had maintained for so long.
With power that could easily twist and reshape worlds, Aisen himself was a potential extinction-class variable.
Yet no matter how strong her inner concern, the observer said nothing further.
She was an observer. Her duty was to observe faithfully and record objectively—nothing more.
As for analysis and intervention?
She had no such authority. It wasn't within her responsibilities.
After Aisen succinctly finished explaining where the supplies had gone, he and the quietly listening Fire Keeper used Miracle: Return together and left the warehouse.
Only when the enormous space was left with the observer alone did she raise her tablet and begin operating with quick, precise motions.
[Log Update: The recent "humanity fluctuation" observed in subject Δ-PE-1999 (trend: stable increase) has now been reasonably explained.]
Primary trigger points to a cross-dimensional information interaction platform capable of connecting multiple worlds, codename: "Chat Group."
The platform claims it can assist in restoring subject Δ-PE-1999's deep-layer memories, causing the target to invest extremely high levels of energy and attention into related activities.
The target has conducted multiple proactive cross-world transfers and, for the first time in 341 standard years, submitted a request to the Administration for large-scale material support.
New observation item: A field with significant mental-interference characteristics detected around the target; manifests as a psychological influence on observers resembling "strong provocation/taunting."
Recommendation: All personnel requiring long-term close contact with the target (including observers) must meet the minimum qualification standard for B-level mental resistance and interference-shielding training.
[Observer: B-ce5482 will continue monitoring the subsequent influence of the "Chat Group" on target Δ-PE-1999, focusing on humanity index trend changes, target stability, and evolution data of the unknown mental interference field. Data upload frequency increased to once daily.]
Log complete. The screen dimmed.
Observer B-ce5482 turned away. Her high heels clicked crisply against the alloy floor as her figure disappeared into the shadows cast by the warehouse's towering shelves.
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 120)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 100)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League (Chapter 100)
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter89)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter86)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter63)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter75)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 53
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 57
From Junkman to Wasteland 35
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