Lynch stood silently in the turbulence of time, gazing into the still frame of the warm autumn light, a touch of deep nostalgia unconsciously surfacing in his eyes.

The scene before him, he still remembered.

It was an autumn afternoon, the sunlight like molten gold, filtering through the yellowing leaves, casting dappled shadows on the leaf-strewn clearing in the forest.

Avery had read somewhere in an ancient book that the Shadowy Forest within the depths of the Dark Forest grew a rare Moonlight Moss, an important ingredient in crafting certain high-level calming potions. She came to him, eyes sparkling with expectation.

He recalled he had just come out of the laboratory, his hands still stained with traces of unwashed potions. Avery, however, paid no mind, tugging on his sleeve, her voice sweetly pleading:

"Lynch, come with me! It's said that deep in the forest, besides the Moonlight Moss, there's a kind of glowing Star Night Orchid that only blooms on autumn evenings, like stars picked and laid on the ground, it's especially beautiful! Let's go collect them together and explore a bit, okay?"

In the end, he couldn't refuse those hopeful eyes.

And at this moment, the scene imprisoned by the chaotic power of time was exactly that afternoon, when they discovered the Star Night Orchid in the Shadowy Forest. Young him, and her smile warmer than the autumn sun.

Lingering momentarily, Lynch gazed at the frozen warmth of the autumn sun, before eventually turning and continuing into the depths of this twisted region.

Every step he took, the surrounding light and shadows shifted dramatically, like flipping through a scrapbook of memories that's been torn to pieces and haphazardly pieced back together.

He saw the castle garden in full bloom, the afternoon sun lazily casting down. Young he and Avery lay side by side on the soft grass, empty teacups and a few open magic notebooks scattered around.

Avery lay with her eyes closed, a slight smile on her lips, seeming to savor the warmth of the sun, while young he turned his head, his gentle gaze falling on her profile as even the wind seemed especially gentle.

The scene shattered, soon replaced by flying, pure white snowflakes. It was a clear morning after a snowstorm, the entire forest clad in silver.

Avery, wrapped in a thick fur cloak and wearing a red woolen hat, her cheeks flushed red from the cold, yet excitedly formed a snowball, laughing as she threw it at him. Young he agilely dodged, bending down to scoop up snow in return, the snowflakes glistening in the sunlight, their bright laughter echoing in the air, startling a few cold crows from the branches.

The scene shifted once more, this time to a sunset beach.

The setting sun dyed the sea and sky a warm golden hue, waves gently lapping at the shore. Avery, barefoot, lifting her skirt, searched the damp sand, occasionally letting out a surprised gasp upon finding a uniquely shaped shell or smooth pebble.

Young he followed behind, holding the shoes she had taken off, watching her hair blown by the sea breeze, his gaze tender and focused.

Scene after scene, flickering by like a lantern carousel, flashing in and disappearing around him.

Staying up late together in the library, exchanging a smile over an interesting discovery; sharing a string of magic berries drizzled with crystal syrup at the Wizard Market; standing together beneath a shelter, waiting for the rain to clear…

All these were fragments of the past, soft and precious memories he buried deep beneath long life and harsh memories of battles. At this moment, in this chaotic prison of time, they were unearthed without reservation, laid bare before his eyes.

Lynch's steps remained steady, yet deep within those gray eyes that could discern the threads of time, more complex ripples inevitably arose.

These frozen beauties, intertwined with the bizarre predicament before him, and Avery's real situation, stirred his calm heart, unable to restrain the ripples of bitterness and warmth that spread out.

"Tap."

Lynch's footsteps suddenly halted, the sound of heel meeting ground emitting a clear, light sound, starkly abrupt in this space where only disordered time's echoes reverberated.

His gaze, piercing through the surrounding bright or joyful fragments of memory, fixed firmly ahead.

The scene there was drastically different from the warm beauty he had just seen, gloomy and cold in tone.

It was after he was forced to leave the land of Ancient Ruins back then.

Within the scene, Avery was in the bedroom of Starshine Castle. The room remained spacious and luxurious, with costly magic fabrics, exquisite silverware, softly glowing magic lamps... everything proclaiming the noble status of its owner.

Yet amidst this opulence, Avery was curled up alone in the corner of the grand bed.

She wore a thin silk nightgown, tightly hugging her bent knees, her face buried deep within. Her golden hair had lost its usual luster, messily draped over her shoulders and back. Her entire figure, contrasted against the vast room and gigantic bed, seemed extraordinarily small, lonely, and desolate.

The cool, mercury-like moonlight slanted in from the tall arch window, outlining the trembling contours of her shoulders, casting a solitary shadow on the floor.

Then, Lynch saw small, glistening tears uncontrollably sliding down the edge of her buried cheek, along her smooth skin, one by one, silently dripping onto the mirror-like dark floor, spreading into small wet stains.

Suppressed, choking murmurs weakly sounded in the silent room, filled with confusion and pain:

"Why…"

This voice was light, yet it struck Lynch's heart like a heavy hammer.

She lifted her head and gazed at the cold moon outside the window; those eyes that once shone like stars were now utterly dim and hollow, as if all light had been drawn away.

"...Why is it like this…"

More tears welled up, rolling down her pale cheeks. She didn't cry aloud, just silently and hopelessly shed tears, letting the sadness drown her.

Lynch stood quietly in place, looking at this scene he had never witnessed firsthand but had long imagined. In his gray eyes, the usual calm was broken, churning with complex, indescribable emotions—guilt, heartache, and a trace of helplessness against fate.

This prison of time had preserved not only beauty but also trapped pain.

Silently, Lynch moved forward, like a solitary traveler walking through the corridors of others' memories.

The surrounding lights and shadows no longer had bright colors, replaced by fragmented silhouettes stained with solitude and gloom, silently narrating all Avery had endured in those long years of his absence.

He saw Avery sitting alone at the head of an expansive banquet hall table, with exquisite yet cold dishes laid before her, surrounded by servants standing like lifeless dolls.

She ate mechanically, her gaze vacant, as if merely completing a task. The hall only held the faint sound of silverware occasionally clinking, an oppressively suffocating atmosphere.

He saw her in the library deep into the night, staring blankly at an open ancient book, the candlelight flickering in her hollow eyes unable to ignite any splendor. A quill rested beside the ink bottle, and the letter paper only had the salutation "To Lynch" before being ruined by smeared ink and dried tear stains, with no further words.

He saw her at a family meeting, trying hard to maintain composure and dignity, listening to the elders' reports about power retreats and threats from the Freemasonry Church.

She straightened her back, chin slightly raised, striving to maintain the dignity of the Starlight Family's heir, but the hand tightly clenching her skirt under the table, fingers turning white, exposed her inner helplessness and pressure.

He saw her awaken from a nightmare on a stormy night, cold sweat soaking her forehead. She curled up at the corner of the bed, hugging herself tightly, each flash of lightning and thunder outside making her frail body tremble slightly.

In the vast bedroom, only her suppressed, faint sobbing intertwined with the sound of the storm outside.

Loneliness, solitude, confusion, pain, the strength of holding on, grievances with no one to confide in… these emotions, like silent tides, spread and surged in the frozen images.

The girl who once smiled brightly in the sun, who gently tugged at his sleeve and softly pleaded, had her gaze dim bit by bit in these silhouettes, like stars gradually extinguished, leaving only weary ashes and deep loneliness.

Lynch walked step by step through these time-frozen sorrows, his face still not showing much intense expression, but in the depths of his eyes, which understood the rules, there seemed to be something heavy accumulating, weighing down the surrounding air, making it stagnant.

These years that he never witnessed firsthand were now laid out most directly before him, showing the heavy price.

Finally,

After Lynch passed through a particularly chaotic, almost indistinguishable area of shattered images, the constantly flashing, distorted light around him suddenly calmed and faded away.

It was as if he stepped out of a noisy waterfall, arriving at a relatively still area. This was no longer the scenery of the forest but a void of darkness composed of countless dim light flows, as if it was the core left after the final calm of time turbulence.

At the very center of this chaotic void, under the dimmest halo,

a slender, familiar figure was curled up there.

She held her knees with both arms, burying her face deeply in the crook of her arms. Her long, flaxen hair, as if devoid of all life force, lay limply on the ground, almost merging with the surrounding dim halo.

The entire figure exuded a bone-deep solitude and fatigue, as if she had been curled up here for millennia, merged with the ruins of time into eternal silence.

The one curled there was Avery.

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