“New Calendar year XXX, Month of Sprouting, twelfth day.
The second stage of the experiment. Based on the nine successful ‘Echo’ trials from before, a hypothesis can be proposed: the so-called ‘Abyss’ is not the geographical or spatial concept that the Church has always believed it to be. However, as for what it specifically is, it remains impossible to know at this time and requires further investigation.
But based on the currently known information, intense emotional fluctuations, regardless of the cause, can tear open fissures in certain places — the ‘Abyssal Fissure’. Perhaps the Holy Light Church’s Purification Ritual is not ‘dispelling evil’, but rather ‘sewing up wounds’?”
As the words in the notes were read line by line, Ignis’s mood gradually grew excited.
The authenticity of this content remained to be verified, but it at least provided a train of thought — a path to explaining the principles of the world.
“The same month, twentieth day.
An accidental discovery — based on signs from previous experiments, I believe a vast and ancient ‘Leaking Point’ may exist beneath the Imperial Palace. Perhaps I should find an opportunity to confirm the location…
No, don’t go there. There is nothing there.”
Ignis scanned this contradictory passage repeatedly, his sense of confusion deepening.
This section had alterations — large, sweeping corrections that stretched almost from the top of the page to the bottom. A few sentences occupied one entire page.
Judging by the handwriting, Alicia had applied considerable force when crossing it out. Furthermore, there was one most important point:
The continuous Memory Fragments from just now had broken off at this page, as if a ditch had appeared in the middle of a smooth road.
‘Why did the memory regarding this page disappear?’
‘What happened when Alicia was writing this back then?’
There was no way to know any of it.
Ignis could only regretfully turn to the next page, though he kept a mental note of the discovery.
There was a zone suspected to be an ‘Abyssal Fissure’ beneath the Imperial Palace.
The next page had indeed returned to normal, and the remaining memories flooded into his mind once more.
“The same month, twenty-third day.
The guards have increased again, and the inspection of the food being sent over is stricter. They have likely discovered that I am conducting ‘unclean research’. Uncle Roderick came to see me secretly last time; his eyes were full of worry and… detachment.
Even he thinks I’ve gone mad.
He only repeats my father’s words: ‘Now, Alicia, give up those dangerous thoughts and accept the purification, and you will still be the Princess of the Empire.’ If purification means cutting off the ears that can ‘hear’ and gouging out the eyes that can ‘see’, then what will be left of me?”
An intense pang of pain struck him. Ignis was not the person involved, but the obsession Alicia had left on this page seemed so strong that it made him feel exceptionally uncomfortable.
“Chaos is not evil; it is merely a law that has not been understood. The Church and the people fear it because it cannot be completely enslaved by Order…”
This passage was recorded at the end, likely Alicia’s own realization.
A faint trace of unease rose within Ignis.
“Month of Moistening, second day.
Hallucinations have begun to appear. Especially after the magic circle has been running at high intensity, fast-moving shadows flicker at the corners of my eyes. Sometimes, incomprehensible geometric figures briefly surface on the walls.
My headaches are occurring more frequently, and I need double doses of Soul-Calming Potion to fall asleep. But I can’t stop… the fragments of the answer are increasing. I can feel it; I am approaching a certain core.”
Alicia’s memory gradually took on a hint of abnormal excitement.
“The same month, tenth day.
I found a way to temporarily alleviate the headache. By burying my head in the ‘Water’ and listening to the sounds within the ‘Water’, I can briefly forget the pain… but the price is that the next headache and hallucination will be even more violent.
Everything has become blurred and distorted, but I saw the marks on the shore. They have colors… red, blue, purple, gray, and multicolored. I saw them converge into a stream, rushing through the Imperial Palace.”
The handwriting in this description was slightly messy, as if Alicia’s mental state was not right when she recorded it.
‘What is this “Water” she’s talking about?’
The Memory Fragment attached to this page was quite chaotic. Just as she had described, it was multicolored, and it was impossible to tell what anything was.
Ignis hurriedly flipped back, suspecting he had overlooked something or missed the description of the ‘Water’, but he found nothing.
The concept had appeared out of nowhere.
The unease in Ignis’s heart grew stronger.
From the previous text, Alicia was undoubtedly a complete research fanatic. Now, however, sleep-talk-like ravings were appearing in the diary, which likely meant her mental state had already become very poor.
The following diary entries had no dates, only one paragraph of text after another. It should have been summer by then.
“Wrong! It’s all wrong! Chaos is not the enemy of Order; it is the ‘Primal’ of everything! The dogmas of the Empire and the disciplines of the Church are an attempt to stifle it with dead rules!”
“The Interface… the Interface is two-way. I can feel being watched! A gaze that transcends all living beings! It is completely different from those painful ‘Echoes’ from before!”
“They are preparing to act. I hear the footsteps; it is not the rhythm of the guards’ daily patrols. It is the sound of boots from the Adjudication Office. They are coming to end my research. Time is running out.”
The handwriting in several paragraphs was slanted and the strokes were scrawled, having lost the beauty of the original copperplate script.
What followed was the final coherent record. The handwriting was frenzied yet exceptionally clear, possessing a certain sense of a final burst of lucidity before death.
“They are coming. The final experiment.”
The handwriting in the diary paused and trembled here, leaving a heavy ink blot, as if the writer had exhausted all her strength just to steady her wrist.
The following writing was completely different from before; the strokes were deep, piercing through the paper, and mixed with small spots of blood:
“It is no longer ‘listening’, nor is it ‘observing’. I will try to merge into the ‘Water’. Using my body as the medium, my soul as the guide, and this Resonance Magic Circle as the key, I will briefly… become the ‘Interface’ itself.
May the true darkness… embrace me, even if the price is eternal slumber.”
Ignis saw all the emotions and memories contained in the final sentence erupt from the black ink, piercing straight into his eyes.
At the same time, he noticed his body… no, not his physical existence, but his entire soul began to vibrate violently and uncontrollably!
Unlike the slight sensations he felt during his previous reading, the resonance this time was exceptionally intense. It was as if the final, resolute will in the diary had crossed decades of time to connect with some essence deep within his soul.
*Vrrr — *
The wall painted with the dark red magic circle seemed to startle awake from a long slumber.
The long-dried lines of the magic circle suddenly glowed with a piercing dark red light. The grayish-white crystals embedded in the nodes now resembled red-hot coal, with crazed, flowing veins surfacing inside them.
Ignis wanted to put down the diary and retreat, but it was already too late.
His claws seemed to be held by some sort of suction coming from space, and his consciousness was slowly swallowed by the light of the magic circle. But what followed was not a fall or a pull, but… a displacement.
The “coordinates” of his own existence seemed to be forcibly squeezed out of the layer of “reality” by that power and thrown into a crack that was invisible to the naked eye.
‘That is the “Water”. The “Water” Alicia described!’
In his panic, this thought suddenly flashed through Ignis’s mind.
The world collapsed and reconstructed before his eyes.
All matter seemed to lose its solidity, becoming translucent. Multicolored “currents of water” deposited or flowed within the Tower, constantly changing — the pale gold of joy, the deep blue of sadness, the pitch black of fear…
One of the mists, woven of dark red and grayish-white, belonged to Alicia. It merged ultimate focus with despair, piercing through the Tower like a scar.
In the distance, beyond the transparent walls of the Twilight Tower, even more overlapping lines of objects and colored emotional flows burst into his field of vision. The massive amount of information nearly caused Ignis’s brain to crash.
‘No… I have to get out of here…’
The thought of survival was eventually suppressed by the multitude of complex information, and Ignis’s vision fell into darkness.