Seeing Cyrene still silent, like an exquisite doll that had lost its soul, Black Herta was not in a hurry. She continued to speak, her voice gently echoing in the empty underground space.
"Since you don't want to talk, I'll continue, okay?"
Her tone was flat, as if she was just chatting, "Do you know 'Herta'?"
When the name "Herta" was uttered, Black Herta keenly observed that the chained girl's body tensed imperceptibly for a moment, and even her downcast eyelashes trembled slightly.
"It seems you know her?" Black Herta nodded gently, then shook her head again, crossing her arms and beginning to pace back and forth on the small platform. The sound of her boots hitting the ground was regular and clear, as if keeping time for her narration.
"This is a... former record in my database."
She used the word "former," implying a certain distance.
"About that Genius, about her choice, about... what divinity is."
She stopped, looking up at the dim dome, a complex memory seemingly flashing in her purplish-black eyes (though she herself had no relevant memories, relying entirely on System data and past game knowledge).
"People often debate, what is divinity?" Her voice was ethereal, with the calm of one narrating an epic.
"When a person chooses to sacrifice a small number of people to preserve the majority, that is cold rationality."
"When a person, unable to accept such a sacrifice, chooses to protect what is before them, or shrinks back in self-preservation, that is fervent emotionality."
"But,"
She changed the subject, her gaze falling back on Cyrene, as if penetrating the chains to see something deeper, "When a person chooses to place themselves on the scale, using a minority, including themselves, to exchange for the majority, for the future, for the possibility that a world will not be overturned—"
She paused slightly, letting the power of her words settle in the silence.
"This is divinity."
Black Herta began to slowly pace around Cyrene, who was suspended, her voice not loud, but every word clear, like a carving knife striking the heart.
"Exchanging one's own demise for the world not meeting its end. Compared to the entire universe burning in the flames of war, the tragedy of the Third Emperor War was perhaps the cruelest yet gentlest choice that lonely Genius could make."
"She could have escaped. With her wisdom, there was always a way to protect herself. But what would be the consequence of that? The seed of destruction would still be buried, eventually breaking through the soil and devouring everything."
Black Herta's tone carried an indescribable sentiment, half-true and half-false. The true part stemmed from her understanding and admiration for the character Herta, while the false part was the "bystander" posture she had to adopt at this moment.
"So, that soft-hearted Genius grasped the hilt of fate's blade herself. With her life, she personally strangled any possibility of the demon seed growing into the ultimate destroyer."
"The 'Deliverance Witch'—she undoubtedly deserves this title."
Black Herta said softly, as if reciting an ancient epic, "Even though she ultimately fell, this was the best outcome she could achieve for this vast star sea through her own efforts. Tragic, great, and... heartbreaking."
She stopped, standing directly in front of Cyrene, looking up at the tear-filled, azure eyes that had quietly opened at some point.
"She's very 'selfish,' isn't she?"
Black Herta's tone suddenly took on a peculiar curve, "But her 'selfishness' encompassed the entire universe—from initially caring only about her small world and favorite research topics around her; to later saving her home planet multiple times; then to Space Stations across the cosmos, spreading 'avatars' among the stars... She selfishly included the entire world within the scope of what she wanted to protect. Selfishly felt that everything was related to her."
"So, at the very end, when that moment arrived—a moment with no time for hesitation, when someone had to throw themselves onto the 'barbed wire,' paving the way for those who followed with their flesh and blood..."
Black Herta's voice deepened, with a resonance almost like a sigh, "That Genius, who always liked to make plans and avoid risks, rushed forward first, without hesitation. She exchanged her existence for the continuation of the future."
"Because that's the kind of person she is—"
Black Herta concluded, a faint softness, which she herself didn't even notice, seemed to flash in her purplish-black eyes, "Or rather, it is precisely because people like her exist that this world has avoided the ultimate end of destruction time and again."
"What is divinity?" She asked one last time, then answered her own question, her voice clear and certain:
"This is divinity."
The moment her words fell, Cyrene could no longer suppress herself.
Large tears, like broken pearls, rolled from her azure eyes, streaking across her blood-stained cheeks, and dripping onto the cold, unseen ground below, spreading small, dark wet marks.
She closed her eyes, her shoulders trembling slightly, her silent crying more heartbreaking than wailing.
[Ding! Target unit's emotional fluctuation has reached 'intense sadness' and 'profound resonance.' 'Villain's Debut' mission completion is 50%. 2% Core Repair Rate has been awarded. Current total repair rate: 26%. Please continue your efforts, Madam!]
Black Herta: "..."
Listening to the System's prompt in her mind and seeing Cyrene crying uncontrollably before her, Black Herta felt her head buzzing, almost failing to maintain her inscrutable (but internally panicked) expression.
'Only half?!'
She complained wildly in her mind, 'So, I poured my heart out (though it was an act) with all that talk, made her cry, and it's only half done?! Aha, your standard for fun is too high! She's crying like this, and I have to keep tormenting her?! Am I even human?!'
(Though she wasn't entirely human now).
Black Herta felt numb; being a villain like this made her conscience ache.
She looked at Cyrene, who was immersed in sadness and crying so pitifully, then glanced at the tempting yet scalding 2% reward on the System panel, her brain working rapidly.
'The current atmosphere... is clearly dominated by sadness. What if...'
A bold (and mischievous) idea popped up, 'What if I suddenly make the mood cheerful, creating a strong contrast... would that count as another form of 'fun'?'
Try it if you think of it!
For the repair rate, she'd go for it!
...Uh, wait.
Black Herta had just raised her hand, ready to make a big turn, but her gaze fell again on Cyrene's tear-streaked, confused little face.
The girl's silent crying carried a sense of brokenness, making any attempt to break that sadness seem particularly cruel and... untimely.
'...Never mind.' Black Herta sighed inwardly, silently putting her hand down.
'Forcing humor now would probably backfire, losing the remaining 2% and possibly even being judged as OOC. Aha's fun is hard to find...'
So, she quickly switched back to her inscrutable, indifferent demeanor, and with a tone that seemed to see through everything yet was too lazy to say more, she said to the still weeping Cyrene:
"You, think about it carefully."
After speaking, she turned elegantly, her black-purple skirt tracing an arc, and with unhurried steps, she walked up the spiral staircase she had come down, step by step.
The sound of her boot heels tapping on the stone steps faded into the distance, until it disappeared at the entrance of the underground space.
(Internal monologue: Actually, I don't know what I want her to think... but isn't that what villains in TV shows always say? I feel like leaving after saying that is really cool!)
She didn't truly leave, but secretly hid in the shadows above the stairs, clinging to the wall, peeking out with half her head and the tip of her witchs hat, secretly looking down.
Below, on the platform, Cyrene was still suspended by chains, but she was no longer tightly closing her eyes. Instead, she stared blankly into the void, tears still silently falling, as if still immersed in Black Herta's heavy words about Herta's sacrifice.
Black Herta looked at the lonely and sorrowful figure, and sighed softly in her heart.
'I'm sorry, little Cyrene... you'll have to bear with it for a while. Once I've accumulated enough repair rate, I'll release you immediately.'
After confirming that she couldn't get any more "joy points" from Cyrene for now, Black Herta decided to return to the System Space.
Another "trouble" was waiting for her there—Baiheng.
That girl had just witnessed Cyrene's "miserable state" of being bound by chains. With her rich imagination and her current subtle understanding of her "master," who knew what kind of horror movie she had concocted in her mind.
Black Herta's figure disappeared at the stairwell, and the next moment, she appeared in the pure white System Space.
Sure enough, she saw Baiheng squatting in the corner at a glance.
Her striking snow-white long hair looked a bit wilted at the moment. She was curled into a ball, her arms wrapped around her knees, her chin resting on her arms, her eyes unfocused, wondering what she was thinking.
(In reality, Baiheng's inner drama was playing out: 'That pink-haired girl... so pitiful... chained like that... Madam... does she have some special... preferences?' She recalled the scene where she was forced to call her "master," then thought of Cyrene entangled in chains, and couldn't help but shiver. 'Will I, will I be treated like that too in the future? Boohoo... Jingliu... Dan Feng... Yingxing... Jing Yuan... help me...')