When Rover regained consciousness, he found himself standing backstage in a magnificent concert hall.
He looked down, only to see a pair of fair, slender woman's hands, dressed in a black and gray performance gown.
Am I... experiencing Phrolova's memories through her perspective?
Her memories flashed through his mind:
The young girl was supposed to bid farewell to the townspeople and travel to another place for a concert. But a sudden meteorite fell from the sky, eternally separating her from her mother and all the residents of the town.
The young girl was also critically injured. In her dying moments, she seemed to fall into the underworld, fusing with a Tacet Discord named "Hecate," thereby becoming a half-human, half-Tacet Discord monster.
Although she still looked like a normal human on the outside, she became immortal; even if her body was destroyed, it would quickly regenerate. The price, however, was that her right eye became clouded. The consciousnesses and mournful wails of countless departed souls resided within it, bringing her immense mental agony.
Later, she continued to hold performances across various regions, achieving massive success.
Surrounded by flowers, applause, and praise, many enthusiastic audience members gathered around her.
An excited male audience member asked, "Phrolova, what kind of story is exactly behind the music you conduct?"
"We recently discovered some ancient forbidden scores composed by a musician with the same name as you. I heard there are many bizarre ghost stories behind these forbidden pieces. One of them is that because they were too pessimistic, causing countless people who were already suffering to become addicted, they were condemned as dark music that leads people to their doom, and were forcibly erased from the river of history. Does this musician have any connection to you?"
Phrolova answered politely yet distantly, "That sounds very interesting, but I... am usually not destined for interesting stories."
A female audience member said with absolute adoration, "The music you conducted was simply too wonderful! Beautiful, ethereal, yet lively. Everything was perfectly just right, it truly shook the soul!"
"I am so lucky to have heard this concert! Miss Phrolova, I have become your loyal fan!"
Phrolova forced a smile to express her gratitude, but her gaze swept past the crowd, landing on a man in black sitting in the back rows of the audience, his eyes closed as he listened.
That man in black was none other than himself—Rover.
So, she took the initiative to walk over and sit down beside him.
Phrolova: "You didn't applaud just now."
Rover: "Perhaps a silent mourning is more fitting for this elegy."
Phrolova froze slightly. Looking at him, she said, "You are the first person to say they heard sorrow in this piece."
Rover turned to look at her as well: "For what?"
Phrolova: "For the fragility of life, and the hardship of survival."
Rover: "It's not just that kind of vague, generalized pity. Why do you feel that way? It has a unique sense of reality."
Phrolova: "Do you know the origin of this concert hall? It was rebuilt upon the ruins of an ancient town."
Rover: "An ancient town?"
Phrolova: "An inconspicuous little town, merely a grain of sand in the long river of history. Without the protection of gods, without a lucky destiny. Even though the people there tried so hard to survive, this little town still encountered a natural disaster in this constantly turbulent world, vanishing in an instant along with its entire civilization."
"The lives of those kind people turned to morning dew before the flowers on their hats could even wither. And the land beneath our feet became absolute ruins, losing its former laughter and joy. Sighs, profound depth, cries that shake the heavens... there was nothing."
"This is the way the world ends; not with a bang, but a whimper."
"But there was one person who, for some unknown reason, survived. He attempted to search for survivors in the ruins, but couldn't find a single one. He kept walking forward through the rubble, yet could never walk out of that land of death. Tell me, do you think this survivor suffers even more than the dead?"
Rover remained silent for a moment: "Perhaps so."
Phrolova: "The story beneath this concert hall is the source of this music. I wove the burden borne by this survivor into it, releasing it on his behalf. To this day, I still remember a sentence he couldn't let go of: 'Why is our world like this?'"
Rover: "If such a world truly cannot be changed, perhaps we should seek a new path. Even if it is completely different from our past methods. Just like me—I chose to change myself."
A light of curiosity rippled in Phrolova's eyes: "You changed yourself? What kind of change is that?"
"Starting over."
Hearing Rover's answer, Phrolova lowered her head, a glimmer of light flashing in her eyes: "That is quite an interesting thing. Then, can every single one of us make such a change...?"
She looked up, meeting his eyes again: "This performance has allowed me to gain much more than I anticipated."
"I am also very fortunate to have heard such music," Rover replied.
"It's still not good enough." Phrolova shook her head gently, continuing, "I want to weave the past singing of the people into it, allowing that past to truly become a part of it."
Rover said, "When this piece is finished, I will come listen to it again."
Phrolova asked back in pleasant surprise, "Really?"
Rover turned to look at her, his eyes full of sincerity: "Really. No matter where it is."
His tone was more solemn than ever before. He raised his right hand and placed it over his chest: "Every single promise is very important. As long as I make a promise, I will absolutely fulfill it."
Phrolova suppressed the joy of finding a soulmate in her heart and spoke: "Alright. I will wait for you to come listen again."
"When we meet next time, I will reserve a VIP seat for you. I also want to hear more about how you achieved this path of starting over."
The scenes before his eyes rapidly flooded into Rover's brain, matching the scenes in his memory one by one.
He felt the exact fluttering and anticipation in Phrolova's heart at that time.
That soulmate was me. The person she waited for but never showed up was also me. No... that's not right. Did we really meet at this concert in the past?
Could this be a deliberate illusion she cast? Something that never actually happened? With the fight for the Gemstone imminent, could me seeing all this right now be a tactic she's using to seize the opportunity to disrupt my thoughts?
Even though the merging memories largely matched the scenes Phrolova showed him, Rover still fell into immense confusion and self-doubt.
The memory scenes continued to flash by rapidly. He saw the anticipation and subsequent disappointment recorded time and time again in Phrolova's diary:
"This tour allowed me to meet a soulmate... I'll see him at the next concert. I want to learn more about his story..."
"At the performance in Trek City, he didn't come."
"At the performance in Pelero, he didn't come."
"At the performance in Mende, he didn't come."
"At the performance in Skob, he didn't come."
"At the performance in Doloris, he didn't come."
"At the performance in Kentart, he didn't come."
"..."
"He won't come, I won't wait anymore."
That sheer despair practically bled right through the paper.
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