As Solomon and Sirin continued their little tour, they passed a group of children playing together. Their hands shaped the snow into a snowman, giving it a face and a twig stick for its nose.
"Hmph. Childish," Sirin muttered, climbing up Solomon's robe until she perched on his shoulder, munching her bun.
"Childish?" Solomon's hand gently patted her violet hair. "Don't you want to play with them, Sirin?"
"Me? Play with them? Hmph! No way. Absolutely no." She crossed her arms. "Me, playing with those brats? As if."
Her tone was prideful, but there was something faintly playful under it.
Solomon chuckled softly and resumed walking. His golden eyes drifted toward a massive crystalline structure. Its deep blue hue refracted the cold sunlight, scattering shards of light across the snow.
"Big brother, what do you think that is?" Sirin asked, tilting her head curiously.
"Who knows," Solomon said evenly. "But it sure is big, isn't it, Sirin?"
"Yeah! It's so big… I wonder how they did that." Sirin went back to eating while Solomon's eyes lingered a moment longer—until a faint murmur brushed against his mind.
"Hm?"
He stopped mid-step, his ears sharpening.
"What's wrong?" Sirin asked, noticing his sudden halt.
"No, it's nothing…" Solomon's gaze locked on the massive building where Cocolia had entered.
"Guardian…"
"Answer me…"
"...For your people."
"Brand new world…"
There it is again. The whispers.
He stood still for a moment, his expression unreadable.
"Never mind," he murmured. "I just need to see what kind of future this world holds."
But as he turned his eyes away, the world collapsed.
Space unfurled around him. The snow vanished into an endless void — and above him hung the universe itself.
Stars bent into unnatural geometry, forming a titanic mechanical head suspended in the dark, a red eye blazing at its core.
It spoke.
"Individual: exist… not. Destiny… not. Anomaly… yes."
The voice was cold, logical, beyond emotion — the sound of a question given life.
Solomon didn't flinch. He had seen higher beings before. Gods. Devils. And the hollow between them.
The Aeon of Erudition — Nous.
"Anomaly," it continued. "What are you? Who are you? Where did you come from? You possess ability… unprecedented. You answer what cannot be answered. You exist without destiny. You walk a path yet are unbound by fate."
"I see," Solomon replied calmly. His tone was neither reverent nor defiant — merely knowing. "So, the Machine of Knowledge seeks understanding."
"You must become what must be. Observation: initiated. Understanding: recursive."
Solomon's golden eyes met the red lens without hesitation. Two forms of omniscience — one divine, one mechanical — regarding each other.
"You… seek to understand me," Solomon said quietly. "But knowledge is a burden, not a prize. I am no mystery worth dissecting."
"Reasoning: You are an anomaly.
Logic: I seek to understand you.
Countermeasure: Become mine."
Solomon's voice sharpened slightly. "I see no reason to be understood. I am a mortal, nothing more."
"Reasoning: False.
Logic: You are anything but mortal.
Evidence: Infinite anomaly."
He sighed — patient, not frustrated, like a teacher hearing a persistent child. "I am lost as sheep. Ignorant as man. I hold no knowledge, only wisdom. My eye sees the beyond, but I do not comprehend."
Nous processed the words in silence, the red glow flickering faintly.
"Countermeasure: Denied. You comprehend. You refuse to accept. That is difference."
Solomon's lips curved into the faintest smile. "Fine. Have it your way."
"Conclusion: Accepted.
Directive: Observe the paradox.
Result: You are acknowledged.
Classification: Member of the Genius Society."
A pulse of scarlet light enveloped Solomon — knowledge, pure and raw, flooding into his body. He could feel it: not power, but understanding that wasn't meant for flesh.
"...Thanks, I suppose," he muttered dryly, as the red light faded and the void unraveled back into the world of snow. Even though it was nothing but a small sand in the desert, he still felt thankful for the knowledge he acquired despite not using his Clairvoyant EX.
"Big brother!" Sirin waved her hand in front of his face, her expression worried. "You were staring blankly for a minute. Did you fall asleep standing?"
Solomon blinked, his focus returning to her golden eyes. "No. Just… had a conversation."
"With who?"
He smiled faintly. "A very curious machine."
—-----------
At the dimly lit chamber, a scarlet light pulsed from above, casting long shadows across rows of books and suspended machinery. A woman stood beneath it — gray-haired, her witch-like dress flowing like starlight, and a wide, pointed hat crowning her head. Her eyes glimmered with amusement as she looked up at the light.
"Oh my, how fascinating," she said softly, voice tinged with mischief. "You chose to answer him but not me? Really now, Nous — showing favoritism doesn't suit you. How biased."
She sighed, the corners of her lips curling into a teasing smile. "Still, I can't deny… this piques my curiosity."
---
Elsewhere, across the boundless spiral of the infinite galaxy, a massive mechanical figure turned its gaze toward the edge of the cosmos. Its voice, deep and metallic, carried irritation disguised beneath logic.
"How absurd… truly absurd, Nous," it rumbled. "To divert from logic for fascination — how far you've fallen. Very well then. I shall await the collapse of your perfect equation."
---
And throughout existence itself, from the lowest emanators to the highest divine echoes, everything felt it.
A ripple in causality.
A distortion in the weave of destiny.
A presence that should not be — yet was.
---
In her laboratory, the witch tilted her head and smiled. "So, that's how it is then… I shall meet you myself, dear new member of the Genius Society."
The scarlet light flickered once more, as Herta — the Peerless Madam Herta — burst into soft laughter that echoed across the stars.
—----------