Because these two magnificent butterflies were unstable. It was a clear fragility, rooted in their very structure.
"I don't know if you can manage it, but since you control most of what happens here, that's why I thought of this."
The woman seemed utterly unconcerned, as though the matter had nothing to do with her, standing aloof as a mere spectator. She awaited Zane's response.
"I control it? Does that mean if I wish them to live now, they can simply survive?"
Zane's gaze shifted from the butterflies to the woman, his voice soft. Though phrased as a question, his tone carried little doubt—almost as if he already knew the answer.
The woman shook her head.
"Life and death follow their order; fate is predetermined. Only because they departed due to illness is there a sliver of chance for change."
"Such matters are never so simple."
"It's difficult for you to achieve—even for me."
Her words lingered in the air, and Zane lowered his gaze.
"Is that so..."
The wind rose stronger. The grass bent wildly, his hair tossed into disarray. The whispering breeze became a howl, slapping against his face with suffocating force.
The butterflies clung tightly to his fingertips, their wings beating slowly, struggling to maintain their fragile forms.
Zane smiled faintly and raised his hand.
Deprived of his shelter, the butterflies were left fully exposed to the gale. They trembled like candle flames in a storm, fragile and fleeting, as if they could be cut apart by the wind's blade at any moment.
Not far away, the woman lifted her own hand.
"The wind... it's stronger now."
"What is he thinking?"
She studied Zane, but for some reason, his heart had become unreadable to her—like a tangled knot of threads. And more than that, events were straying further and further from her expectations.
Watching the butterflies struggle on his fingers, Zane began to hear music rising faintly in his ears—the orchestra's performance from the Central Theater.
Passionate. Intense.
The world around him blurred, and Augetta's dancing form grew ever clearer.
Suddenly, the vision shifted again. The stage vanished, replaced by the image from earlier: scattered pages of sheet music, fluttering madly in the wind.
The melodies written on them had moments ago accompanied Augetta's defiance on stage—her struggle, her release, her sword raised against fate.
The paper drifted down before him. Zane closed his eyes.
When he opened them once more, his gaze fell again on the butterflies. This time, he lowered his hand, shielding them once more.
Zane smiled, then turned away.
The world around him twisted and cracked apart. The woman's voice rang out.
"Wait! What are you doing? If you leave this place..."
Before she could finish, Zane's voice rose steadily.
"Yes, life and death follow their order; fate is predetermined..."
"But the power of life... never lies in submission."
He strode forward.
"Zane! If they leave here, they'll die!"
Her warning echoed in his ears, but he only shook his head.
"This place may be pleasant, but it is false."
"They have their own paths to follow."
His figure faded, and with him, the two magnificent butterflies vanished as well.
The vision blurred, and then his foot touched solid ground once more.
It was the Central Theater. He had stepped off the stage.
Turning, Zane looked back at the spot still illuminated by the stage lights—the very place where he had lifted Augetta into his arms. That was where she had departed.
"Hmm... quite an unexpected turn of events."
Zane gave a small shake of his head, then lowered his gaze to the butterflies resting in his hands. With a touch of regret, he spoke.
"Forgive me for making this choice for you."
"Consider it... my selfish notion."
Whoosh!
A sharp whistling sound cut the air as a small black sphere flew in from nowhere, stopping steadily before him. In the dim theater, it gleamed faintly with an eerie light.
"Since you came from here, return to this place for now... and wait for me."
The sphere swelled rapidly to the size of a human head. Zane lifted his hand, extending the butterflies toward it. As though they understood his intent, they took flight from his fingers and slipped inside.
With their departure, Zane waved his hand, and the sphere shrank back to its original size before vanishing into the surrounding space.
The Fifth Hollow.
Zane turned and walked out of the theater.
As he left, the people within gradually stirred awake, each one dazed and bewildered.
Falling asleep on the job? Seriously?
And their employer—the boss—seemed to have already gone...
Panic spread quickly. Fear of lost pay, damaged reputations, and job security sent the entire staff spiraling back into chaos.
...
"Huh? Wasn't the plan to let him experience the birth and transformation of life, so he could grasp the creation of it?"
"Yeah, those two leftover lives were supposed to be nurtured here first..."
"Tsk, how did it turn into the meaning of life instead?"
"The origin of life somehow became: 'Why is life called life?'"
"What a bizarre development... but maybe that's fine too?"
"Ah, well. He's grown now. It's natural for his own thoughts to be strong. It all still helps him grasp power. After all, energy itself is alive..."
"But honestly, he's a handful. The function of this place hasn't even ended yet... who knows how much more he'll figure out?"
"This little mental world I worked so hard to create... raising a child really isn't easy..."
...
"Zane, you're back."
Late at night, a few lamps still glowed along Sixth Street.
Zane's gaze lifted to the Belle hanging above the video store's entrance. Normally, it would be closed by now, but tonight it remained open—seemingly just to wait for him.
He gave a small nod in acknowledgment, his silent response.
Though she already knew much of what had happened, Belle still instinctively tiptoed, peering past him.
No one was there.
Her eyes dimmed with quiet melancholy.
So it ended this way after all?
But she quickly collected herself. Just as Nicole had said when drunk, what was gone could not return. Clinging to it only bred grief, serving no purpose.
Still... this was different.
According to Nicole, the Headmaster had long prepared for the end, requesting lighter treatments and accepting his fate willingly...
But Augetta and Augilia...