Don't confiscate my identity as a human race

Lanci wore a helpless smile, feeling the warmth of Hyperion's hand,

"Keep in mind that once you enter this experience machine, you'll be forever disconnected from real life and won't be able to return. And it will be hard for you to realize this fact; you won't be able to tell whether you're in the real world or a virtual one. The ups and downs that your life should have will all be replaced by smooth sailing."

This was a question he had asked the Cat Boss in Floral City Pariel.

At the time, the discussion was about whether it was right for Lanci to deceive Countess Miss Christina of the Bathist family by telling her that Enon was still alive, to spare her from heartbreak.

No conclusion was reached in the end.

"This is like 'Fallen Wonderland,' but with no side effects."

Hyperion stared at Lanci, not letting go.

She understood Lanci's metaphor.

In Lanci's description, this hypothetical machine lacked the soul-dissolving negative effects, offering a purely harmless experience.

"That's one way to understand it."

Lanci confirmed.

"I don't want it."

Hyperion answered decisively, her expression turning bitter as she averted her gaze.

Even she knew her own contradiction.

She was the one who indulged the most in Fallen Wonderland, unable to extricate herself, yet she still resisted such a machine.

Because she wanted truth, even if it was a cruel reality, it was better than a false perfection.

So, for someone as lucid as Lanci, a person who would not even hesitate in Fallen Wonderland, the answer was very clear.

He would definitely seek to understand what the Black Sun Lankros had seen at the end of his life.

"But Lanci..."

Hyperion didn't know how to articulate her words to persuade Lanci, she was slightly tongue-tied,

"This is Shadow World, isn't it? Whether or not you go to learn the truth makes no difference. You should think about it, think it over carefully—why would you want to open a gift box that's clearly suspicious?"

She didn't want Lanci to be hurt, nor did she want him to risk any negative changes.

But he seemed a bit too captivated by this Shadow World.

Just seeing Lanci's understanding of Black Sun steadily increasing, even though it was barely five percent now, made Hyperion very afraid.

"Meow meow."

Cat Boss was sitting on Hyperion's lap, glancing back and forth at Lanci and Hyperion.

It was the first time it had seen such a substantial disagreement between Lanci and Hyperion.

They were not quarreling, but rather were too aware of what was on the other's mind, trying hard to persuade each other.

As a direct witness to their journey in Floral City, the Cat Boss knew Lanci's view on "Fallen Wonderland" was not absolute.

He had previously deceived Countess Miss Christina from Floral City Pariel, concealing the fact that Enon was dead, letting the Earl's Daughter live on with hope.

This meant Lanci wasn't a person who always chose "truth"; in certain circumstances, he might also choose "protection."

"Hyperion..."

Lanci pondered for a long time.

"Some people need protection, some need truth, and others, they need to make decisions based on their own will."

He spoke slowly,

"So, I'm not outright denying Fallen Wonderland; it can sometimes indeed be a wonderful thing... It's just that if everyone else is asleep, I must be the first to wake. As someone who has the ability to wake up, I can't fall asleep so easily."

Lanci looked into Hyperion's eyes, his emerald gaze still as clear as a lake, naturally filled with contemplation and compassion. And the answer was already hidden within.

"..."

Hyperion pursed her lips, slowly withdrawing her hands from Lanci's wrist and placing them back on her lap.

"Supporting a man like you really is hard work; you were born to be a stubborn leader."

She murmured, looking down.

Lanci's love was like the wind, yearning for freedom and impatience, while her love was like a kite, holding onto the thread tightly, lamenting on the spot.

She wanted to protect Lanci from breaking free, but she also didn't want to hold him back.

So often she was troubled about how to support him.

"I'm sorry, for always causing you worry."

Lanci stared at Hyperion, eyes likewise cast downward.

He had always listened to many things Hyperion said, but when it truly came time to make a decision, he would still follow his own heart.

But he was very grateful to Hyperion.

When no one greeted him in the morning.

When no one waited for him in the afternoon.

When he could do whatever he wished, what should he call this?

Freedom.

Or loneliness.

It was only with Hyperion's presence that he could call it freedom; without her, he would become solitary.

The clouds outside the floor-to-ceiling windows flowed quietly, the cold night like a tranquil lake shimmering faintly.

Crackle, crackle.

Sparks shot from the hearth, as if trying to fill the silence where no conversation was.

The room was warm because there was a fire.

"Do as you believe is right."

This time, Hyperion did not intend to hold Lanci back, but merely lightly, like a moonlit ghost, placed her hand on his.

Support was all Hyperion had in mind now.

She always believed in Lanci unconditionally.

There was something in him that would never change.

The passion and determination could not be fake; he was born with such a sense of responsibility, and he was like that every time.

But this long journey might have brought about a change in Lanci's understanding.

He was still resolute, but within that determination, he began to ponder more and was no longer as cold-hearted.

Hyperion had always thought of Lanci as someone warm on the outside but cold on the inside, sometimes maintaining a godly impartiality and frigidity, making decisions that defy humanity without hesitation.

Now, he would think before making those decisions that defy humanity.

"Hyperion, are you thinking something impolite?"

Lanci observed Hyperion's eyes and felt that as she thought, a faint, almost imperceptible curve appeared at the corner of her mouth.

It was an expression he had never seen before.

"..."

Hyperion shook her head, her smile laden with meaning more pronounced.

She didn't tell Lanci the answer.

"If we were both from this era, then I suppose I would no longer be by your side at this moment."

She simply gazed at the reflection in the floor-to-ceiling glass, looking at the two of them in the mirror, speaking thoughtfully.

Imagine if this moment also existed in true history.

Then it would surely be the Black Sun Lord sitting alone in the Principal's Office.

The illusion of Miss Witch would be keeping him company as they conversed.

Like the earrings, she would become a gentle companionship.

"..."

The principal's shadow reflected in the glass fell silent.

"Regardless, because of your protection, I am not an illusion. I will always be right by your side, so go ahead and do what you want with peace of mind. If you feel tired, I am always waiting for you at home, and the moment you turn around, you will see me."

She closed her eyes and leaned on Lanci's shoulder.

"Hmm..."

Lanci laughed, a sound of letting go.

Laughing grew tiring after a while, and drowsiness took over both Lanci and Hyperion's minds.

Even though the stars outside the window were dim, the reflections of the young man and woman were still clear in the glass.

It was as if they had returned to the time they challenged Purgatory Corridor Academy together.

On the sofa in the Principal's Office, they fell asleep, nestled together.