By the time Lynn was nearly full, Aveline finally pulled her gaze away from Xiao Ai, adhering to a chef's basic respect for food.
Only then did she notice something surprising—the food in front of her was still at just the right temperature.
Lynn smiled gently.
Naturally, this was his doing. While his cooking skills weren't comparable to Aveline's, he at least knew the proper temperature to keep food warm.
Aveline stuck out her tongue at him playfully and focused on eating.
After finishing, neither of them bothered to clean up. Instead, they sat together on the deck, leaning against each other as they gazed up at the moon.
The moonlight was beautiful tonight.
The sea breeze brushed gently across their faces, yet instead of cooling them, it seemed to raise their body temperature. Even their breathing grew heavier.
Were they sick?
They both knew the answer.
As the saying goes—full stomach, warm body…
At some point, Lynn's hand had already wandered off, busy exploring peaks and hidden valleys.
Aveline shifted slightly, resisting just enough not to disrupt the mood.
Eventually, unable to hold back, she leaned in and whispered something into his ear.
Lynn responded by scooping her up in his arms and carrying her into the cabin.
She was shy. Even with no one else around, doing such things out in the open was still a bit…
And Lynn respected that.
Left alone on the deck, Xiao Ai received no further commands. Her illusion dissolved back into intangible fluctuations as she focused entirely on steering the ship forward.
…
Several hours later, Lynn stepped out alone.
A satisfied smile lingered on his face, along with a faint air of having seen through all things in the world.
By chance, he glanced up at the moon, now long past its zenith, and a memory from a year ago surfaced in his mind.
'The moon back then looked a lot like this, didn't it?'
'I said it was beautiful. And she said… no matter how it waxed or waned, it was never her home.'
'Back then, I thought I was being targeted by the Wild Hunt or Dottore and needed to leave quickly. She helped me absorb enough lunar energy in a short time… I wonder how she's doing now.'
'She should be fine, right? She's always been the same in the Fatui. I didn't interfere with their overall trajectory either. Even though I said I'd give her a home… that was more like a joke, just a promise in passing. She wouldn't take it seriously, would she?'
'…Though I wasn't joking.'
'The final components of my world's birth included lunar power, giving it properties similar to Teyvat's moon. When I projected my world earlier, I could faintly sense resonance from somewhere far above…'
'Is it the Frostmoon beyond the false sky?'
'If so, then the environment of my world—aside from the real moon—might actually be a place that could accept her… a home she might like.'
'Too bad I'm still too weak. I can't handle the consequences of truly altering her fate. If the time loop breaks…'
His thoughts stopped there.
What remained was resolve.
'Now that I've truly started using my ability… I need to grow stronger, quickly.'
'And then, starting with that little dove… one day…'
Lynn looked up at the false moon above and spoke softly:
"Those who are bound to me—those without fulfillment shall find it fulfilled, and those fulfilled shall attain true freedom."
"I said it."
His words drifted away with the sea breeze, fading even faster than his figure as he turned back toward the cabin.
No phenomenon followed.
Lynn didn't mind.
He hadn't expected heaven and earth to respond to a single sentence. This was simply a ritual—to solidify his resolve and release the pressure he had accumulated since arriving in this world.
After all, now that his ability had fully activated, things would only get easier from here.
What was the point of holding onto that pressure?
What he didn't realize was that he had underestimated himself.
Words carried power.
For ordinary people, that power was negligible.
But Lynn had a world as his incarnation.
A Descender was, by definition, an outsider with power or status comparable to a world. Though Lynn's world was newly born, his status had already reached that level—far surpassing ordinary Descenders, and his power was already taking shape.
Thus, it wasn't just his words that held power.
His resolve carried even greater weight.
Time flowed on.
Within that current, Istaroth was having a headache.
As the ruler of time, during this era—after Nibelung's fall, with Celestia dormant, and the Abyss blocked outside the "shell"—she had once been among those who saw everything most clearly.
But over a year ago, a strange, unreadable variable had appeared, introducing an element she couldn't fully grasp.
At the time, she didn't care.
The new branches of the future it created were little more than entertainment—like a few extra leaves growing on a tree. Not even true branches, incapable of affecting the trunk.
But a few hours ago, that variable suddenly expanded dramatically.
Now, it wasn't just difficult to control—it had become difficult to even observe clearly.
Worse still, just moments ago, some of those "leaves" had begun to grow, taking root and turning into branches.
And not just that—they were rapidly thickening, showing signs of replacing the original future and becoming the new trunk.
Istaroth's face turned green.
And there was nothing she could do.
The worst part?
From those rapidly expanding branches, she sensed a familiar aura.
'Is it… that one from the Third Moon?'
'Didn't she already complete her loop? Why is she messing around again? Isn't she afraid of collapsing her own timeline?'
Filled with confusion and frustration, Istaroth decided that what she couldn't see wouldn't bother her. She simply returned to Celestia.
Then her expression froze.
Because Celestia was completely silent.
Empty—except for herself.
And that wasn't the time she had intended to return to.