Wang Yue sensed the shift instantly. The temperature and humidity had transformed, as if they had been plucked from a frozen, misty forest and dropped into an autumn garden. The air was no longer damp; it had become crisp and dry.
Beneath her feet lay a path paved with circular marble slices, flanked by neatly trimmed hedgerows.
She looked up. The sky possessed an ethereal, artificial quality. It was a mosaic of robin’s-egg blue and slate-grey, curving in a wide, sweeping arc like a massive vaulted fresco. The garden’s light source was a silver crescent moon embedded in the very center of that dome.
The crescent possessed a rigid, geometric beauty. It wasn’t just perfectly symmetrical; it looked as if it had been precisely carved from a standard circle. Its surface was marked by etched lines and seams, resembling the alloy components of a high-precision mechanical clock.
“We’re trapped,” Medeili’s voice came from beside her.
“Yeah.”
“And we’re still in our pajamas.”
“Yeah.”
“Like we’re sleepwalking.”
“Yeah.”
“It feels a bit silly.”
“Haha.”
Wang Yue let out a short laugh, though her eyes remained solemn. She gripped the Morning Star lower, her pale wrist seemingly extending as she prepared for a fight.
Behind them was a solid wall. Judging by the play of light and shadow, the only exit was further down the path.
What would they find?
Wang Yue took a few cautious steps forward before stopping abruptly. “Our connection to the Source of Faith has been severed!” she gasped.
Medeili’s face paled, the skin on the back of her hands tightening. She had noticed it too; she couldn’t draw any mana from the void.
“Be careful. We’ve entered a pocket dimension isolated from the outside world,” Wang Yue warned in a low voice. “It’s likely not just mana—we probably can’t draw the power factors needed to activate our Relics either!”
This meant that once their internal mana was spent, there would be no replenishment. Once a Relic was used, it couldn’t be recharged.
Medeili glanced at the Star Annihilator on her index finger and gave a slight nod.
“Once our mana and Relics are dry, we’ll be lambs for the slaughter. We have to be cautious, but decisive,” Wang Yue added.
The situation was dire. They had gone from having “infinite ammo” to having a single magazine; once it was empty, it was over. There was no room for error. They had zero intelligence on their enemy, and they were fighting on the opponent’s home turf.
Things were spiraling out of Wang Yue’s control. She had a very bad feeling about this.
Medeili’s expression was equally grim.
The two moved forward carefully. After a few paces, a section of the hedgerow on the right ended, replaced by a pane of black glass. Medeili paused for a moment before picking up her pace to keep up.
“What is it?” Wang Yue asked.
Medeili simply shook her head.
Beyond the hedges, they reached a quiet, Small Garden where their field of vision opened up. Pale purple rosemary grew in exquisitely carved white plaster flowerbeds, alongside several high-quality “lollipop” hibiscuses. There were also patches of heather and holly; it was a garden dominated by cool tones.
“Plum?”
Wang Yue turned sharply, only to find that Medeili had vanished!
A sudden cold wind blew from nowhere, whistling into her open pajamas. Her skin broke out in a massive wave of goosebumps.
“Plum!”
Wang Yue called out anxiously, running through the garden. Her head whipped back and forth as she searched for the orange-haired girl. But Medeili seemed to have evaporated into thin air.
Wang Yue stopped to think, taking a deep breath.
Strange…
Was she attacked? No, there was no sound of a struggle or a cry for help.
Did she leave on her own?
Just then, Medeili stepped out from behind a hedge. In her arms, she cradled a doll about a foot tall.
This wasn’t an ordinary doll. It was a Ball-Jointed Doll (BJD)—exquisitely made with a mysterious, refined face, wearing complex, ornate clothing and hair that looked like a real person’s.
It had long, apricot-colored hair styled in a half-up princess cut with braids meeting at the back, the ends curled into soft waves. Its face was a delicate powder-white with thin, willow-leaf brows. Its blue-green eyes were fixed and glassy, like two beautiful marbles, and its lips were painted a soft pink with an inviting, glossy sheen.
The doll wore a light blue, mercerized silk dress decorated with tiny diamonds and lace. The hazy lace partially obscured its slender, delicate hands and arms. The spherical joints connecting its limbs were smooth and perfectly crafted—a masterwork without flaw.
Its little feet were clad in openwork white socks and ivory-colored, strapped patent leather shoes.
“Where did that doll come from?” Wang Yue frowned, the atmosphere growing increasingly uncanny.
Medeili’s lips moved as she replied, “I found it.”
Wang Yue pointed to a stone bench nearby and commanded, “Put it on the bench. Once you’ve set it down, step back. Stay away from it.”
Medeili shook her head gently. “I don’t want to,” she replied calmly.
“Why not?”
“I like her.”
Wang Yue was momentarily stunned by the response. She scrutinized the doll, and for a moment, it felt as though the doll was staring back. A tiny, pin-prick of light flickered in its emerald eyes.
She wasn’t sure if it was an illusion, but she thought the doll’s head moved slightly.
After a long silence, Wang Yue looked away. “Let’s keep going.”
The two of them walked one after the other, passing through vines and hedges until they reached a small pavilion in the center of the garden. Clusters of white lilies-of-the-valley grew outside the pavilion, their tiny bell-shaped flowers nestled among lush green leaves like pieces of art.
The pavilion was minimalist in style, with four wooden pillars supporting a latticed roof. In the center stood a square marble table. Strangely, a miniature piano made of geometric-cut crystal sat upon the table.
Looking closer, the “crystal piano” was actually a music box. Judging by the brass components visible inside, it was undoubtedly a mechanical device.
Medeili sat at the table and reached her hand toward the music box.
Just as she was about to touch it, Wang Yue flicked her finger. Spared no mana, she used her power to make the crystal piano fly toward her, catching it firmly in her hand.
Wang Yue had never liked music boxes. These automated machines were perfect vessels for malice, often more dangerous than Pollutants. A Pollutant had no inherent “ill will” toward humans and could be measured by instruments.
“Give it to me,” Medeili said, cradling the doll in one arm while holding out her other hand.
Wang Yue detached the music cylinder and handed the crystal shell to her.
“Give me all of it!” Medeili said urgently.
“Half for each of us. It’s only fair,” Wang Yue deflected.
She ran her thumb over the pins on the cylinder, and the melody formed in her mind. As the familiar tune echoed in her thoughts, her breath hitched. Her eyes widened with disbelief.
This was the score for “Total Oblivion”!
She had already sent an Avatar to investigate the origins of the music box from the cottage on the mountain, looking into its materials and craftsmanship. However, due to her Avatar’s limited range—restricted to the vicinity of Fishmouth Town—the investigation had yielded nothing.
She never expected to find another one here in Full Moon Town.
She speculated that the person who built this garden—the creator of this Silver Moon Phantasm—was either the composer of “Total Oblivion” or closely related to them.
From this perspective, Medeili’s desire to play the music box was highly suspicious.
Wang Yue simply swung her hammer and smashed the cylinder flat. Physical destruction saved mana.
Then, she sat down beside Medeili and turned her head to stare at the girl’s face. “I feel like you’re acting a bit strange.”
“Oh.”
Medeili was as well-behaved as a child receiving a lecture. She sat motionless, staring intently at the crystal shell of the music box.
Wang Yue was at a loss for what to do with her. Her lips parted, about to say something, when she suddenly saw the doll in Medeili’s arms move!
It wasn’t a “maybe” this time. It definitely moved.
The doll stiffly turned its head, its emerald eyes staring straight at Wang Yue. Its hands reached forward and then crossed over one another.
What was it doing? Calisthenics?
Wang Yue watched without blinking, waiting for its next move.
Suddenly, Medeili lifted the doll high by its arms. She glared at the little thing, her eyes filled with a sudden, boiling anger.
“Bad child,” Medeili scolded. “You’re not being obedient.”
Then, she grabbed the doll’s ankle and—snap—twisted it right off.
