At the end of the track connected a relatively normal public Echo incubation area. Countless orderly incubation cabins were lined up inside, containing various basic Echoes in a state of hibernation.
Compared to the mad scenes from before, this place appeared overly normal, even possessing a bizarre sense of order.
"It seems the fusions have not spread to all areas," Phrolova said softly. Her gaze swept over the quiet cabins, seemingly letting out a slight sigh of relief.
However, this tranquility was as fragile as glass.
Just as they stepped into the center of this area, a sudden change occurred. The energy conduits on the surrounding walls abruptly lit up with a blinding red light.
Dozens of scorching laser beams shot out from various angles without the slightest warning, instantly weaving into a net of death aimed squarely at the two of them.
The attack came too fast and too suddenly, sealing off almost all space for evasion.
"Careful!" Rover barked in a low voice. Almost out of pure instinct, he violently reached out and shoved Phrolova, who was beside him, toward the open space on the other side.
Almost at the exact same time, several laser beams brushed past the edges of their clothes, ruthlessly striking the spot where they had just been standing and melting scorched, black holes into the solid metal floor!
WUMM—!
A much thicker energy barrier descended from the ceiling accompanied by a heavy humming sound, landing precisely between the two of them. The scorching energy fluctuations split the area in two.
Rover was isolated on the side closer to the entrance, while Phrolova was on the other side, her back leaning against a pillar behind her.
The laser beam attacks ceased, as if their only mission had been to accomplish this separation.
"Tch, what a troublesome mechanism." Rover frowned.
On the other side, Phrolova looked at the buzzing energy barrier before her, and then at the solemn-faced Rover on the opposite side.
An incredibly complex trace of struggle flashed across her pale face.
She had been in a trance just now and hadn't noticed the laser net slicing toward her in that split second. If Rover hadn't pushed her away in time, she feared that right now, she would have gone from being Phrolova to being literally sliced into ribbons.
Even though she—having long fallen into the underworld—possessed an immortal body, the sheer agony of being pierced and sliced into countless pieces by lasers would still be fed back to her central nervous system without diminishing in the slightest.
Even if her body regenerated after a period of time and she was resurrected, that bone-deep, excruciating pain would continue to torment her for a very, very long time...
He... saved my life again...
Holding her arm, Phrolova raised her head, looking at Rover across the laser barrier with a complex expression.
At this moment, his expression was shifting unpredictably, seemingly assessing how to break through this suddenly appeared obstacle.
However... this mechanism had triggered far too coincidentally, as if Finlay had deliberately set it up to separate them. Would this also make him suspect that she harbored ulterior motives?
Phrolova thought to herself. She remained silent for a moment, and then seemed to make some sort of resolution.
Suddenly, she raised her hand and passed the spider lily baton—which had never left her side—through a narrow gap between the dense laser barrier, offering it to Rover's side.
"Take it." Her voice was still weak and ethereal, yet carried an unquestionable resoluteness. "It contains my ability and is closely linked to me. After being injured, it is my only reliance."
"I entrust it to you. Even if we are separated by a great distance, it—and I—will remain in the palm of your hand."
Seeing Phrolova proactively hand over her baton, Rover was also stunned for a moment.
He looked at the baton being pushed toward him, and in his mind, the scene from his memory instantly flashed—
That obsessive Phrolova, in a similar desperate situation, despite his own hostile attitude, had still made the exact same choice as the one before his eyes.
At this moment, time and space seemed to overlap.
That twisted yet genuine trust originating from a "soulmate" crossed the boundaries of factions and calculations, presenting itself before him once again.
He didn't take it immediately. Instead, he lifted his eyes and looked deeply at Phrolova behind the barrier.
At this moment, there was no deception in her eyes, only a bridges-burned candor, and a trace of resolve that comes after handing over one's weakness.
"...Trust me," she added. Her voice was very soft, yet it landed heavily on Rover's heart.
Rover remained silent for a few seconds. Ultimately, he took the baton.
It felt slightly cool to the touch, yet he could seemingly feel Phrolova's faint resonance frequency from the other end.
"Alright." He didn't say much else, simply giving a solemn nod. "Find your own way. We'll rendezvous ahead. Be extra careful."
Phrolova also nodded. She took one last look at him, then turned and chose a maintenance corridor extending downwards to the side. Her silhouette rapidly disappeared into the shadows.
Rover gripped the baton in his hand and carefully put it away.
He glanced at the sturdy energy barrier, knowing this path was blocked, and decisively turned around, choosing another path heading upwards.
The passage was narrow and winding, littered with old pipes and abandoned cables.
At this moment, Abby popped out from the Tacet Mark, taking on the role of a pathfinder.
"Rover, this way! There seems to be a room!" Abby called out softly, pointing to an ajar airtight door.
Rover vigilantly pushed open the door. Inside was a dust-covered laboratory, with a massive amount of experimental logs scattered across the control console.
He quickly stepped forward, his gaze rapidly sweeping over the records and experimental logs on the screen.
"Artificial Sonoras have a short duration and are difficult to maintain in a stable state. Furthermore, Resonator powers can easily cause unexpected changes to the Sonora..."
"If we are to create a massive, stable Sonora and turn it into a real world capable of carrying everyone, the cost will be immense and it will consume my Resonance ability..."
"This research direction has secured stable support and can continue to be advanced. Recorder: Phrolova."
He quickly flipped through a few other documents:
"The frequency of the Retroact Rain is a purer, more stable reverberation energy. There might be hope this time."
"No good. The human consciousness retained within the rain is too weak. Only phantoms with repeating content remain temporarily... Research terminated. Recorder: Phrolova."
"The Black Tide cannot support or preserve people's original consciousness... Research terminated. Recorder: Phrolova."
All the clues pointed to the exact same fact: Phrolova's long-term research was entirely to find a method to house and "resurrect" those dissipated consciousnesses.
Combined with Finlay's previous recording and the obsession in Phrolova's words, the answer was glaringly obvious:
The Shores of the Lost was meant to resurrect the residents of that small town destroyed by the meteorite in her memory scenes.
The memory scenes and the evidence before his eyes corroborated each other. Rover felt a complex mix of emotions. He largely understood just how profound the sorrow and promise were that gave birth to her madness.
Just then, he faintly heard an incredibly quiet speaking voice coming from the lower-level corridor.
It was Phrolova's voice. She seemed to be right downstairs, and... she was conversing with someone?
Rover signaled Abby to be quiet. He silently approached a grate that looked like a ventilation shaft and peered down.
He saw Phrolova standing in a similar corridor on the lower level, but she wasn't alone.
The energy ripples in front of her distorted slightly, transforming into the silhouette of a little girl—it was the exact likeness of Tris.
But Rover keenly sensed that it was absolutely not the true reverberation of the little girl. Its core frequency was icy and bizarre, filled with a highly uncomfortable sense of manipulation.
He held his breath, continuing to stare at the scene in the lower-level corridor through the gap.
"Big Sister Phrolova, you seem to have encountered a bottleneck?" 'Tris' spoke. The voice was mimicked to perfection, yet carried a trace of condescending amusement.
Phrolova's body visibly stiffened, her voice carrying suppressed disgust. "Do not appear before me using her appearance, President."
President... Rover's heart chilled. The scene before his eyes was exactly the President of the Fractsidus intervening through some bizarre method.
'Tris' tilted her head, revealing a seemingly utterly innocent expression. "But you used to feel a sense of intimacy towards 'me' when I looked like this."
Using the image of the dead to conduct psychological manipulation... despicable. A cold light flashed in Rover's eyes as he clenched his fists.
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