Duncan shifted into a more comfortable position, leaning back against the sofa. His gaze pierced through the gaps between the bandages crisscrossing his face, a half-smile playing on his lips as he looked at the goddess before him.

"Now that you know my identity, what are your thoughts?" he said with a smile. "From the Death Church's perspective—you should report this immediately."

Agatha opened her mouth, but couldn't speak for a long while. After a full half-minute, she finally spread her hands with a wry smile. "You've put me in a very awkward position..."

"But you really should report everything that's happened here to the church immediately," Duncan said, his smile fading as his tone finally turned serious. "Pland was the first, Frost the second—those cultists have caused a lot of trouble in the past, but trouble on this scale has never appeared so frequently. And don't forget, besides the two city-states almost facing annihilation, the sun above our heads—Anomaly 001—has also shown unsettling changes recently."

Agatha immediately snapped out of her awkwardness. Prompted by Duncan's reminder, her expression gradually became solemn. "...You mean, these events are all connected?"

"I don't know—don't be so surprised, I'm not some omniscient, omnipotent being," Duncan said casually. "But I have a habit. When various low-probability events happen one after another, I tend to think of them as 'precursors' to a larger system gradually going wrong. The things the cultists in the two city-states did may seem unrelated, but have you considered why they were all able to succeed recently? There have been so many large-scale heretical sacrifices throughout history, how many have successfully made a splash?"

Agatha fell into thought, her expression becoming increasingly grave.

"Report it all," Duncan said softly. "Don't let go of any clues—let the smart minds think it over."

"I understand. I will report it truthfully," Agatha nodded solemnly, then "looked" at Duncan, emphasizing, "Everything."

"I'm looking forward to the Death Church's response," Duncan breathed a sigh of relief, as if relieved of a burden. "It's not good to keep dragging it on."

Afterward, silence fell in the living room for a moment, as if everyone was lost in their own thoughts (except Alice). After who knows how long, Agatha suddenly spoke, breaking the silence. "I should go back."

"Not staying longer?" Duncan said. "With the current situation, you'll have countless things to worry about when you go out. There aren't many opportunities to hide away from the world here."

"That's why I need to go back as soon as possible," Agatha shook her head. "The city-state has countless problems to solve. Not just the church, the city hall is also in a mess—if I hide away from the world again, then there will really be no one to take charge."

"A mess..." Duncan repeated thoughtfully, then suddenly asked a question. "Do you think you can really restore order to the entire city in a short period of time, relying on Frost's current remaining organization and manpower?"

Agatha paused, seemingly not understanding Duncan's intention in asking this, but after a brief silence, she nodded. "...I will do everything I can."

"'Do everything I can'—but often, doing everything you can doesn't solve the problem."

"...What do you mean?"

"I just suddenly have a very bold suggestion," Duncan smiled, his eyes falling on Agatha. "An outsider's suggestion."

...

When Agatha left 44 Oak Street, the sky was gradually darkening, the power of the sun was gradually fading from the real world, and the snow was still falling in a flurry—fine, fluttering snowflakes fell from the dark chaos, passing through the dim yellow halo cast by the gas street lamps, gradually covering the cold, deserted streets.

The Guardians' night patrol passed by from the distant intersection, the clanking footsteps of the steam walkers occasionally breaking the silence of the street. The chimes of day and night were drifting in the distance, and the sound of an organ came from the small church on the corner in the evening breeze.

The scarred city-state licked its wounds in the night.

The cold wind blew through the streets, swirling Agatha's hair and the corners of her skirt. She stretched out her hand in the snow-covered street, tilting her head slightly. "It's still snowing."

Vanna, who saw her off, curiously turned her gaze. "You can't see the snowflakes?"

"I can't see—but I can feel it," Agatha said softly. "There are many more things in my vision now, but also many fewer. It will take a long time to get used to it."

She slowly retracted her hand, a smile suddenly appearing on her face. "But the good news is that I can no longer feel the cold of the cold wind. Because no matter how thick the clothes I wear, no matter how many stoves I light, I feel this world... just as cold."

"...I'm sorry, I can hardly imagine that feeling."

"Oh, don't worry, it doesn't really bother me," Agatha smiled, slowly clenching her fist. With the gathering of power, some faint green flames gradually appeared in the "scars" all over her body. The flames flowed in her body, like blood. "This way, it will be a little better."

Vanna was silent for a few seconds. "If the captain knew you were using the fire he gave you for warmth, his expression would probably be wonderful."

"What kind of person is he?" Agatha withdrew the power of the flames, suddenly asking curiously. "Is he usually... very strict or terrible?"

"What do you think? You've been in contact with him twice."

"I feel that all the information deviates from the truth. He is much more peaceful and friendly than I imagined, but... perhaps I should use 'He' to refer to him. I don't know whether I should measure an existence like Him according to mortal standards. I know He used to be a human, but the subspace... you know what I mean."

Vanna thought for a few seconds, then shook her head gently. "Actually, I haven't followed him for long, so I probably can't give you a very clear answer, but I can tell you that I also had similar worries to you—and the final result was that the Storm Cathedral made the decision to arrange for me, this Inquisitor, to board the Forsaken. Just like Captain Duncan chose to believe that a 'fake' could have humanity, we also believe... or rather, are willing to believe, in Captain Duncan's humanity, after all..."

She suddenly stopped, raised her head, and looked up at the sky where snowflakes were fluttering. After a moment, she whispered to herself as if talking to herself, "After all, this world is too cold. If even we ourselves no longer believe in hope, then all that will be left on this boundless sea is the chilling wind."

Agatha didn't speak for a while.

Vanna suddenly asked after a few seconds of silence, "What do you think of the captain's suggestion?"

Agatha fell into thought for a while before speaking with a complex expression. "Letting the Sea Mist Fleet enter the city... To be honest, I don't even know whether this will restore order to the city-state, or bring greater chaos. You've lived in this city for a while, you should also know very well what the Sea Mist Fleet means to most Frost people..."

"To most Pland people, the Forsaken is also terrifying—but believe me, after a terrible disaster, people's 'acceptance' will really reach an exaggerated level. From a group perspective, the desire for a stable life will outweigh many concerns."

"The desire for a stable life..."

Agatha said softly, feeling the cold of the snowy night through the lifeless shell. For some reason, she thought of something else.

Fifty years ago, when the great uprising broke out, it also seemed to be snowing.

"I will discuss this matter carefully with the city hall officials," she said to Vanna, as if she had made up her mind. "And from a personal perspective, I will support it."

"We all hope everything goes well," Vanna said.

"Yes, we all hope everything goes well."

Agatha repeated, then waved her hand and walked towards the steam car with the church emblem hanging on it, which was parked on the street.

But after taking a few steps, she suddenly stopped again.

"Is there anything else?" Vanna asked curiously.

"Some... personal questions, I hope it doesn't seem too offensive," Agatha turned her head, her expression seeming a little strange, hesitating as she asked, "Did you... really jump off a cliff, kill your offspring, and then return safely?"

Vanna was instantly stunned, her eyes turning strange. "Why are you suddenly asking this?"

"I don't know, but the question suddenly popped into my head," Agatha seemed a little embarrassed. "I feel like I heard rumors about this somewhere... Sorry, if this question makes you uncomfortable, I..."

"It's nothing—it did happen," Vanna's expression relaxed, and she waved her hand with a smile. "But the real situation is different from the rumors. I actually accidentally stepped on air while walking and fell off the edge of the cliff. When I landed, I happened to crush a Deep Sea Contamination that had been washed ashore for some reason. It wasn't a real 'offspring', let alone killing it. I don't know why it was spread like this."

Agatha opened her mouth slightly—although her eyes were covered, her expression still revealed a "dumbfounded" look.

"Then... are you okay?" the Gatekeeper asked subconsciously.

"Actually, the fall was pretty bad," Vanna smiled embarrassedly, then patted her chest, making a strong gesture. "But luckily I was an athlete. I went home, drank hot water, and rested for two days and I was fine."

Agatha: "...?"

The Gatekeeper was greatly shocked.

Vanna was a little puzzled. "Why do you have that expression?"

"...You Pland athletes are terrifying."