"Robin, you know he's dead."
"Even if you pretend otherwise—the shopping list proves he bought Dreamkiss."
"Do you understand what that means?"
"Stop deluding yourself. The Family won't tolerate traitors!"
"He doesn't love you anymore."
Each word struck like a blade. Sunday rarely spoke so harshly to Robin—even if these were just texts.
He might not know everything about her... but he was still the person who understood Robin best in this world.
He knew she would read these words. And even if there was only the slimmest chance, he had to try—to pull his sister back from the brink.
"Brother, you're wrong."
"A person dies three times. First, when their heart stops and breath fades—biological death."
"Second, when they're buried, mourned, declared gone forever."
"Third, when the last person who remembers them perishes, erasing all traces of their existence."
"As long as I live, I'll sing his songs. I'll make sure the universe never forgets."
Robin's words were calm, gentle—yet Sunday could almost see her unwavering gaze, just like that rainy night when she'd shaken off his grip and run into the storm.
He'd stood frozen, watching her vanish into another world.
Sunday hated rain.
It fell like an invisible wall, slicing the world in two.
From then on, he could never enter Robin's world—that sorrowful place she kept locked in her heart.
She was a cage named "freedom," imprisoning a past she could never touch again.
If their meeting was tragedy, then the ending had been written from the very first page.
"Brother, the answer doesn't matter, does it?"
"What matters is... I've made my choice."
[The other party has ended the conversation.]
Sunday stared at the red exclamation mark, motionless.
For the first time, he realized how dull he'd become.
When did we grow so far apart, Robin?
He looked up at the sky and whispered, "Is the reality you've built... truly better than a dream?"
The answer didn't matter. Time would smooth over the scars.
The world of dreams welcomed traveler after traveler—they came and went, leaving no traces behind.
Anming was a traitor to the Family... yet he was the only one who'd left a mark.
Sunday just wanted to create paradise—a world more perfect than the cruel reality they'd been given.
He and Anming walked the same path... but never side by side.
Jarilo-VI
Pale fingers tapped a juice glass, composing a melody that could rival any grand orchestra. Robin was the pianist, and the world her stage.
"If it were you, this part would be more passionate..."
She tried to mimic Anming's style—but she could never be him.
Countless nights, she'd sat beside that boy, watching his hands dance across piano keys like sprites, weaving music that seeped into the soul.
"Only music played from the heart has a soul."
"Miss Robin?"
She blinked. Before her stood two figures—Seele, and behind her, Bronya, who offered a polite smile.
"Your flight to the Xianzhou Luofu departs in two system hours. You'll need to transfer midway, though someone of your status might arrange a direct route..."
Jarilo's interstellar transport was still developing, but IPC infrastructure had laid the groundwork. And the Luofu wasn't far.
"Thank you."
Robin's smile made both girls pause—her beauty was ethereal, angelic. Fitting, since her voice was heaven-sent.
"Before I leave... could you tell me more about Anming?"
Bronya and Seele exchanged glances. Finally, Bronya sat across from her.
"We first met him in the snowfields. There was another girl with him—Firefly, with silver-gray hair."
"Firefly..."
"After that, um..." Bronya hesitated, glancing at Seele.
I got this, Seele's look replied.
"After that, Anming and Firefly held hands while sightseeing, then beat up the Stellaron together."
Bronya: "???"
The Supreme Guardian's eyes widened. This wasn't the plan!
Seele raised a brow. Wasn't I supposed to be honest?
"I see."
Robin's expression didn't change—but her eyes dimmed slightly, fragile as glass.
Yet those who truly knew her understood: Robin was anything but fragile.
She stood, gazing skyward.
Time to go. To where he is.
Before the Charmony Festival began, she would end it all—past and present.
Do I still love him?
The answer came instantly.
How could I not?
Only he called her "little bird." Only he gave her true freedom.
Even if it was just a dreamlike reality... it had been beautiful.
"Robin—"
"I just wanted to save you."
Night after night, those words echoed in her mind.
Again and again—as if giving up was never an option.
Those hands had pulled her from her cage.
If he must hate her, then let him.
A "god" had descended for her sake... and fallen into hell because of her.
But Robin didn't want a deity.
She wanted the lyricist who'd loved her.
"Anming."
"This time... I'll save you."
Even if she was still powerless... at the very least, she could offer one final elegy.