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On the sofa in the guest room.
Acheron lay in Sol's arms, breathing softly like a kitten at rest. She didn't dare speak.
Sol cooperatively kept silent as well, simply holding her lightly.
Even with her mature, elegant appearance, her body was still soft and fragrant like a young girl's.
For Acheron's sake, he wouldn't mind holding her all night if necessary.
Perhaps this was the noble virtue unique to gentlemen.
Time passed slowly.
Acheron felt the overwhelming sensations gradually recede, her strength returning bit by bit.
Yet at the same time, the shyness of such intimate contact with the opposite sex washed over her heart in waves.
She swore—even with the sisters-in-arms she had once fought beside—she had never embraced anyone for this long.
And in truth, she hadn't known Sol for very long at all.
For her, this truly felt far beyond the syllabus.
"Thank you." Feeling some strength return, Acheron spoke softly. "I think… I can sit up on my own now."
Earlier, she had collapsed like melted wax, her expression disgracefully unguarded. Being let go would be just as awkward as being held—there was no need to switch between different forms of embarrassment midway.
But now, she felt she could at least manage to sit upright.
She had to get up quickly. After all, Sol was a married man.
And one of those women was currently observing from within the memory field.
The feeling was like setting a strict diet plan yet sneaking open the fridge at night to steal a slice of peach cake—nervous, tinged with guilt.
Even if the peach cake tasted wonderful—and perhaps the excellent Sol would taste no worse—it was still something she shouldn't indulge in.
"Mm. I'll steady you."
Sol helped her adjust, supporting her as she tried to sit upright.
"Mm—"
Acheron attempted to sit straight on the sofa, but her softened body leaned helplessly against his shoulder again.
Her expression stiffened slightly. She braced one hand against the sofa, trying to push herself in the opposite direction.
Come on, useless hand—push!
She had said she could sit up independently. She had to keep her word!
Unfortunately, it was futile.
She could only remain leaning against him, pretending nothing had happened, hoping Sol hadn't noticed anything unusual.
Sol remained composed and suddenly asked, "Was that sensation earlier too intense?"
One of life's great illusions: I can handle this.
This wasn't the time to expose her bravado.
"A little," Acheron admitted.
Hearing his steady voice, she relaxed slightly. Good—he hadn't noticed.
When recalling the sensation, her gaze grew distant. "It felt like magma flowing through my entire body—flesh and soul both melting, an irresistible wonder."
"That's normal," Sol explained. "Your condition has both psychological and physical dual compatibility. Naturally, treatment must address both."
"During therapy, I temporarily take over your bodily control and stimulate it fully. Only part of your consciousness remains within your body. The majority of your soul briefly merges with my light, absorbing more of its power until it balances the Nihility you wield."
"Of course, if it were your full-self remaining, even that portion in your body would have been strong enough to endure."
Nihility and Hope coexisted in opposition—at least until the Aeon of Nihility reached its zenith.
Coexistence restored Acheron's senses.
Opposition magnified her perception of "good" against the abyss of Nihility.
To return fully to normal, desensitization training had to go hand in hand with balancing both forces.
"Oh." Acheron seemed to grasp it. "So, it's not that my resistance is weak—it's that only part of me was present."
"The rest of me… was absorbing your power?"
The "her" inside her body hadn't been the entirety of herself. Most of her spirit had left, briefly becoming a sea of light.
And that light came from Sol—
Which meant, in a sense, they had merged?
Human beings merging—it was rather strange.
And why had it felt so good?
Had she felt Sol's sensations in that state? Was he always experiencing such comfort?
His willpower must be extraordinary—to endure without making a sound!
For a fleeting moment, she felt curious about how he would sound if he did.
No—that line of thought was far too speculative. The nature of light was still her blind spot. Better not overanalyze.
"You're essentially correct," Sol confirmed.
Acheron hesitated. "If balancing my Nihility requires absorbing your light… wouldn't that be too great a sacrifice for you?"
She was an Emanator of Nihility, wielding power capable of shaking star systems.
To balance that would mean Sol had to expend an equivalent level of light.
She did not want him to bear such a burden.
"You're overthinking." Sol clasped her hand. "An Emanator's strength lies in channeling their Path's energy. The power they personally store isn't that much. It's not a heavy burden for me."
"And to be more confident—what is the power of a single Emanator to me? In fact, you'd make a fine Emanator of mine."
His limitation was output flow.
With the [Type-III Perpetual Motion Engine: Stellar Particle] within him, supply wasn't the issue.
Even setting aside personal affection, the value of the sole Emanator of Nihility was worth investing equivalent power to secure.
"Regardless… thank you."
Acheron met his gaze sincerely.
"You're welcome. I believe Mei won't disappoint me," Sol said with a smile.
"I won't."
She didn't like disappointing friends.
And as for Sol—she absolutely would not fail him.
The corner of his lips curved. "So, Mei, shall we continue treatment?"
"No!"
Instinctively, Acheron tightened her grip.
It had felt wonderful—so wonderful it emptied her entirely, like shedding all sensation beneath a star's blazing heat.
If it happened again, she might not endure it. There were already… strange signs.
"Then we'll leave it for next time."
Sol began withdrawing his hand.
Though slightly regretful, today's delight had been sufficient.
There would be plenty of time ahead—to watch Acheron change bit by bit. A certain…
No. A cultivation-like pleasure.
"Yes!"
Acheron's expression shifted rapidly. At the moment his hand nearly slipped away, she grasped it firmly.
Treating her condition was important—extremely important.
She was already this sensitive in daily life, often struggling to control herself.
What if, during battle, she suddenly reacted to external energy and made an embarrassing sound?
Even if it didn't expose a fatal weakness—
To make such a sound before the public… she might as well withdraw from a world that required social interaction.
That absolutely could not happen.
Sol chuckled softly. "So, is it yes or no?"
"Yes." She nodded firmly, indigo eyes resolute. "For the sake of future battles, I need to recover as soon as possible."
After a brief hesitation, she added earnestly, "Please… make it more intense. I think I can endure it."
Thinking back, perhaps it hadn't been entirely unbearable.
The earlier loss of composure had only been an initial stress reaction.
The second or third time—surely she could restrain herself.
Yes. It wouldn't be as humiliating as the first time.
Yet another surge of light poured into her.
Acheron's eyes widened, then grew hazy.
She collapsed against Sol's chest once more, unable to hold herself upright.
A simple fact: after one stimulation and brief rest, the body is often even more sensitive.
"We'll need to change clothes," Sol murmured softly.
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