Rowen

Chapter 241 – The entity of pride [23]


How long had that moment lasted? Honestly, at some point I simply stopped counting. The only thing I could think about — the only thing I wanted to think about — was the small being nestled in my arms. So fragile and yet so present, she felt like she was filling every inch of space around me.


A soft, strangely comforting nostalgia washed over me, as though I were reliving something I had never actually experienced, but that was still precious to me. Maybe that’s why time seemed to crawl... or maybe it was because, deep down, I wanted it to crawl. Perhaps Eryanis — the little being breathing calmly against my chest — wanted the same.


Somehow, that thought warmed me from the inside. But when I lifted my gaze toward the spheres floating above our heads, I noticed something strange. The absorption process was almost over — there might only be a few seconds left before it finished.


Normally, everything happened in the blink of an eye, so fast you could barely keep up. This time, however, it felt as though hours had dragged by, as if time itself were being stretched around us, making every fraction of a second painfully slow. Follow current novels on n͟o͟v͟e͟l͟f͟i͟r͟e͟.net


With these thoughts spinning in my mind, I stayed still, feeling the weight and warmth of Eryanis resting against me. Together, we watched the end of the absorption process. Little by little, my sphere slowed until it stopped completely, no longer pulling in the strange “Color”—or whatever it was—coming from Eryanis’s sphere.


I blinked a few times, my eyes burning, waiting for some kind of sign, some crackle in the air, some change. But nothing happened. No visible transformation rippled through me—or at least that’s what I thought. For an instant, I felt a subtle burn on my forehead and behind my eyes—so faint I almost ignored it.


But within seconds, the sensation grew stronger, burning as if a branding iron were being pressed into my skin, etching something invisible into me. Even so, my face didn’t move, not a single reaction crossing my features.


The strange part was that despite the intensity, there was no pain—only a clear perception of heat, as if my body knew it should hurt but simply decided not to let me feel it. In the end, all that remained was the certainty that something was being marked into me—and the uncomfortable awareness of a heat that refused to fade. Of course, that was just my shallow interpretation of what I was feeling at the time.


From an outside perspective, however, the changes were far more obvious. First, my eyes—something I’d never really taken the time to look at closely. They had always been golden, a constant glow, almost ethereal, with no detail beyond the warm light they seemed to emit on their own.


But now, along with the throbbing burn inside them, something new appeared: faint, delicate lines, like irises forming for the first time, giving shape to what had once been nothing but a golden void. It was as though my eyes were finally “awakening” to something greater.


Like Eryanis’s pupils, my irises had become geometric, slowly spinning on their own, following some hypnotic rhythm. The shapes resembled celestial gears turning in unison, each rotation releasing a nearly metallic gleam that seemed to echo through the air. On top of that, I felt a strange warmth on my forehead and, when I touched it, I realized a mark had appeared there.


It wasn’t static—it shifted constantly, cycling between circles, triangles, and hexagons—yet each change fit perfectly with the last, forming a pattern that felt too deliberate to be random. It was mutable yet stable, and there was something strangely... natural about it, as though it had always been there, simply waiting for the right moment to reveal itself.


The changes didn’t take long to unfold. I spent a few moments observing my new appearance, analyzing every detail reflected before me. For a second, I thought about testing whether anything besides my appearance had changed—some new anomalous power, an unexpected surge of strength—but just like the last few times, nothing happened.


No flash of energy, no wave of heat rolling through my body. Just the same as before: that strangely soft, almost squishy texture that felt more fragile than it actually was.


***


(POV – Eryanis)


Eryanis had always felt a deep respect and admiration for her sister—feelings that seemed to have been born with her, carved into her very essence. There was never room for doubt; questioning simply didn’t make sense. To Eryanis, her sister was someone extraordinary, almost radiant, and that certainty had been there since the very first moment she opened her eyes to the world.


It was as if, with her very first breath, she already knew that figure would be her beacon, her example, and, in some way, her reason to keep moving forward. That’s why, curled up in her sister’s arms, all Eryanis could think about was how warm and comforting that embrace felt.


There was something deeply familiar about her touch—the warmth spreading through her skin, the faint scent that reminded her of wildflowers and something sweet, like freshly gathered honey. Eryanis hadn’t realized how much she had missed that feeling until now; it was as though her little body was melting in that moment of safety.


And as she looked at her sister, a wave of happiness warmed her chest. Her beloved childhood companion was, little by little, regaining the glow and poise Eryanis had kept in her memory.


Some nuances were still missing—gestures, expressions, even the tone of her voice—and it wasn’t exactly how she remembered her, but the essence was there. It was as if, piece by piece, her sister was being rebuilt right in front of her, becoming once more the person she used to be.


But beyond that, looking at her sister awakened another memory in Eryanis’s mind—a memory so old she could barely tell how much time had passed since then. It was like a distant echo, misty, almost lost in the flow of time.


In that memory, her sister had asked her something... something important. Maybe that was why she still remembered it: because it was her sister’s request, not anyone else’s. Eryanis couldn’t quite remember what secrets she was supposed to keep, only the feeling that it was vital.


Whenever she tried to tell her sister anything, some kind of instinct—almost like a whisper in the back of her mind—warned her not to speak. And she always obeyed—not out of fear, but because it was her dear sister’s request, and for Eryanis, that was reason enough.


Even carrying the weight of guilt for lying to her beloved sister, Eryanis didn’t really feel bad about it—in fact, there was a strange peace in her decision. Her sister had always liked obedient girls, the kind who listened to their elders without question, and that was exactly what Eryanis was trying to be. Deep down, she believed she was doing the right thing.


When her sister finally became the way she remembered—sweet, gentle, elegant—Eryanis would ask for the reward she wanted most: lots of affection, hugs, and cuddles until she was satisfied. Just imagining that future made her eyes sparkle, and a wide, almost childlike smile spread across her face, lighting it up from ear to ear.


***


(POV – Protagonist)


Well... putting aside the enigmatic smile Eryanis was wearing at that moment—a smile that gave me the uneasy feeling that she knew something I didn’t—the environment gradually fell back into absolute silence.


Both my sphere and Eryanis’s had vanished without leaving a trace, as if they had never existed. I glanced around, scanning for any sign, but nothing seemed to have changed. No door appeared, no light flared—nothing to suggest a way out of this place.


Eryanis, who had been resting against my chest until then, seemed to notice the storm swirling inside me. Slowly, she lifted her head, and her eyes—now so similar to mine they felt like a distorted reflection—held me for a few seconds.


There was something quiet and observant in that gaze, almost as if she were trying to read my thoughts. Then her lips moved softly, and her voice, gentle like the rustling of leaves, echoed in the stillness around us: “Something wrong, sister?”


The moment her words reached my ears, I had to take a second to process them. Not because they were hard to understand—far from it—but because Eryanis calling me “sister” still feels strange. To be honest, I haven’t quite gotten used to it.


Not long ago, she called me by name, almost formally. So hearing her use the same nickname that Althea, Nyara, and Nekra always use... it’s a little disconcerting. It’s as if the distance between us suddenly vanished, and it caught me off guard.


Of course, I’m not complaining. In fact, it’s a relief to see that Eryanis is becoming more open with me; it makes me feel a lot more comfortable. After all, not too long ago, the way she looked at me carried a hint of hostility.


But pushing those random thoughts to the back of my mind, I finally answered her question: (Actually... I was just thinking about how we’re going to get out of here) I admitted, scratching the back of my neck and letting out a sigh.


When I asked my question, I turned my gaze back to Eryanis. All I got from her were those big eyes fixed on me, full of such clear doubt that it felt almost tangible. She tilted her head just slightly—a subtle movement that almost anyone else would have missed—and for a brief moment, she seemed lost in thought.


Her eyes wandered around the room, scanning every detail, and her head followed the motion, swaying gently as if searching for an answer in the very space around us. Then, suddenly, she looked back at me, and that expression of doubt lit up with something more—as though she had just understood something.


Her lips moved slowly, as if each word carried the weight of her thoughts: “What do you mean, sister?” Eryanis asked, her big eyes shining with curiosity.


She tilted her head slightly, looking right at me, before continuing, almost in a whisper: “We’re still inside that huge room that human showed us”


I blinked a few times, trying to force my eyes to adjust to the strangeness around us. When I finally looked up, everything surrounding me was a vast, silent infinity, as though I were floating in the void between the stars.


A chill ran down my neck before I turned back to Eryanis, who was watching me with that serene, almost scientific curiosity, as if she wanted to record every nuance of my reaction.


It wasn’t that I doubted her words—in fact, I trusted them more than I cared to admit—but it was hard to accept that we were still inside the facility. Unless, of course, the entire building had somehow teleported into space... which, come to think of it, wouldn’t even be the strangest thing to happen to me lately.


... Strangely, why do I feel like things I used to call completely absurd now seem... natural to me? It’s as if my very sense of normalcy is slowly being rewritten, line by line.


I’m not sure whether I should feel glad I’m adapting so quickly or worried that I’m accepting all this without question. On the other hand, I couldn’t tell if Eryanis really had the ability to read minds or if my expression was just shouting every thought echoing in my head.


Whatever the case, she didn’t hesitate for even a second—on the contrary, she seemed completely certain of what she was about to say. Her voice was firm: “More precisely, this place was shaped from our memories—those hidden deep down, locked in the subconscious—or maybe it’s just projecting something we’ve already seen” She paused briefly, as if weighing her own words, before finishing with unsettling calm: “Either way, I can guarantee this is not the true Cradle of Creation”


Even though it was still hard to believe, there was something in Eryanis’s tone that made her words strangely convincing—almost as though every syllable carried a weight my mind didn’t dare question. And yet, nothing she said answered the question that burned inside me: how, exactly, were we supposed to get out of this place?