How did she know? No—how did Old Sven know?
Wait, no. Aside from the four of us, there was one other person in this memory who knew the truth.
Lynch's mind conjured the image of a figure standing on a stack of straw, loudly preaching that the end was near.
The mad old man on the threshing floor.
Damn it. He really shouldn't have put so much trust in a follower of an evil god. That old bastard had secretly leaked their secret.
Thoughts flashed rapidly through his mind, and Dr. Sven's questions followed in quick succession.
“Who on earth are you people? What do you mean by ‘memories’ and ‘breaking free’? What do you mean by ‘your era’? What role are you actually playing in all this? Why does he want to make a deal with you? And how does he know your identities?”
A barrage of questions slammed into Lynch, leaving him tongue-tied.
All of these questions could actually be explained, save for the single most crucial issue that couldn't be sidestepped.
Memories, breaking free, and eras.
Without a clear explanation for that, any other explanation would lose most of its persuasiveness, making it almost impossible to win back her trust.
The four of them had come this far, turning the tables from a disadvantage to gaining a slight upper hand. Their greatest reliance wasn't advanced experience or knowledge, but Dr. Sven's trust. Without it, the situation would have collapsed long ago.
But what now?
Watching Lynch's expression shift unpredictably while he remained silent, disappointment and sadness gradually crept onto the female doctor's face. Yet a flicker of expectation lingered in her eyes, as if she still hoped he could provide an explanation.
Lynch wanted to explain it clearly too, but how could he say it? He couldn't just tell her that this was merely a historical projection, that they were all fragments of a memory and not their true selves. That would be too...
Hm? Wait, why couldn't he?
Lynch narrowed his eyes and hesitated briefly before pushing the city lord on the opposite sickbed into a corner. He patted the bed, gesturing for Dr. Sven to sit down first.
“Let me think about how to explain this to you. This involves forbidden knowledge regarding occultism and the essence of the world. You should know that indiscriminately telling you everything wouldn't be a good thing—more importantly, you very likely wouldn't be able to bear it.”
Dr. Sven's expression flickered through several shifts before she finally sat down with a somber face, her eyes locked onto Lynch.
But Lynch was in a tough spot as well. Even back in his former world's information-obsessed era, if someone had run up to tell him that he was actually just a wisp of memory existing only within a historical snippet and would vanish in a day, he probably wouldn't have been able to accept it either.
For people of ancient times, it was even harder to process. If they didn't believe it or think too deeply about it, that was fine; but if they truly believed it, they would probably go mad. Perhaps this was precisely what made forbidden knowledge so terrifying.
So he definitely couldn't tell her directly that they were just false memories and didn't exist at all. He had to...
【Lynch, I must remind you of something.】
The familiar voice resounded in his mind, causing Lynch to startle. For his neighbor to take the initiative to contact him meant he might have stumbled into a fundamental misconception. But... Can I understand?
【Your willpower can bear forbidden knowledge of this level now, and besides, I am merely asking you a few questions. Do you think I exist?】
Of course you exist.
【Yet I have already fallen. Why do I still exist?】
This touched upon knowledge concerning fallen gods, which Lynch had crammed extensively over the past few months: Because from ancient times to the present, the memories of all living beings form the Dreamlands. So even though gods have fallen, their supreme willpower allows them to remain sleeping in the depths of the Dreamlands—in layman's terms, living within the memory of the world.
【There have been countless people throughout history; why are only we like this?】
Mortal beings cannot sustain their existence in the Dreamlands relying solely on memories. But you possess supreme willpower, sufficient to sustain your own existence within the Dreamlands—and even... occasionally bring along another soul.
【Then if mortal beings retain their existence in the Dreamlands through some special means, do they exist, or do they not?】
Mystery relics.
Through chance encounters, these people relied on mystery relics and the support of the Dreamlands to exist on the boundary between the Dreamlands and the mortal world. Although they could only repeatedly replay these limited days, they still retained their existence. Furthermore, like those mysterious heteromorphs that seeped from the Dreamlands into the mortal world, they could manifest before mortal beings through those mystery relics.
Therefore, saying they were merely a memory wasn't accurate, and believing they didn't exist wasn't appropriate either. They actually existed as living souls, which was why they could offer different responses based on the reactions of outsiders. It was only that they couldn't exist independently of mystery relics like gods and Great Old Ones could, and were thus trapped forever in a repeating cycle.
Wait, then what happened with me back then?
I didn't rely on a mystery relic either. Why was I able to drift in the Dreamlands until I met my neighbor?
How was I able to maintain my existence there? And... why did I appear in the Dreamlands in the first place? What memory condensed into me in the Dreamlands?
Am I not a transmigrator?
At that moment, Lynch felt his skin crawl and his pores constrict. Fear clutched tightly at his heart as all sorts of bizarre thoughts repeatedly surfaced in his mind, relentlessly battering his sanity and throwing his psyche into growing chaos.
【Stop.】
How could wild, multiplying thoughts be so easily controlled? Yet... the god said stop, and so it was done.
His chaotic brain instantly cleared. Lynch's sanity swiftly returned, reining in his spiraling thoughts. Only then did cold sweat drench his back, his heart pounding wildly.
Holy shit. He had only given it a thought—he hadn't done anything or even listened to anything—so how had he almost gone insane on the spot?
【How did you manage to connect those dots? Sigh, this is precisely the danger of forbidden knowledge, and one of the reasons I have told you nothing. The present you cannot bear the truth yet; you can only approach it step by step, giving yourself a process of adaptation. Nor should you learn it from me; you must figure it out on your own. Therefore, think no more on this question. It is not a truth you can touch right now. Perhaps one day in the future, you will understand everything.】
I understand.
His neighbor wouldn't harm him, and listening to wise counsel was always the smart move. Lynch had no habit of being stubborn. He immediately shifted his gaze back to Dr. Sven, who was waiting in front of him. He had made his decision.
There was nothing to hide. The person before him had read parts of the legendary Necronomicon—even if only a portion, she couldn't be viewed through the lens of an ordinary human. Furthermore, she was a ghoul, a mysterious creature herself. There was no need to worry that she couldn't handle it.
Of course, in this era, understanding of mystery relics wasn't nearly as advanced, making a full explanation far too troublesome. Lynch decided to apply a bit of artistic license.
“We come from Middle Earth in the Fifth Age—an era you know nothing about.”
“And all of you are souls trapped in twisted time. Though history has long since ended, you remain trapped here, repeating these final five days over and over again.”
“The madman on the square is an apostle of Yog-Sothoth, the Lord of a Billion Radiance. He knows everything. Your father likely learned of our identities through him.”
“Here is what happened...”
Lynch hid nothing, recounting the deduced history to Dr. Sven point by point. As for whether they could rebuild trust, that depended entirely on the listener's reaction.
The female doctor listened in silence, her expression shifting from anger to doubt, from doubt to astonishment, and from astonishment to utter bewilderment.
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