Toward the end of their session, Molly began to lose hope.

She had tried every emotion; Joy, sadness, anger, fear. She focused, she strained, she struggled. Nothing worked.

[Molly]: “What… am I doing wrong?”

[Alistir]: “Nothing.”

[Molly]: “What do you mean?!”

[Alistir]: “Why did you assume that there was a trick to it?”

[Molly]: “....”

[Alistir]: “That concludes today. Good job.”

[Molly]: “But I didn't even do it yet!”

[Alistir]: “You didn't notice? That first time when you said you thought about your dad, it flowed.”

[Molly]: “It did?”

[Alistir]: “Yes. It flowed, but so little did, you didn't notice.”

[Alistir]: “We’ve found out what gets it flowing. Next time, think those same thoughts, but while holding the Resonator. That way, an association between the two can form.”

[Molly]: “Al-alright.”

—----------------------------------

The rest of the week played out mostly the same. School in the mornings and noon, training after school, and research in the evening. Although Alistir encouraged her by saying she was making huge progress, it didn't feel like that. It was long and boring, and half the time she just went to bed right after.

Tonight was different. She was in the mood for some Mechanomicon. Her and Alistir met up in the library, under the pretext of Alistir’s studies.

Alistir left her alone for a few minutes to relieve himself, and in that time, her curiosity got the best of her.

She opened up a forbidden section of the book.

[Molly]: “OK. Chapter eight, page one, ‘Chapter of Origin and Creation’..

This was risky. The only theory of the world's creation was in the state religion, the Book of Angels. In it, a race of higher beings create the world to raise more of themselves. The souls of people are infants in their eyes, and to grow properly, one must live a life according to the religion. Failure will result in your next life being one where you will eternally suffer as a deformed, crooked angel.

Going against this religion would, allegedly, be worse than any worldly crime.

She read about two separate theories, called the ‘Big Bang’ and ‘Evolution’. They seemed to make sense, but at the same time she doubted them. After all, her dad came from another world to this one. Maybe these theories worked over there, but not here.

She thought that, until she saw the disclaimer at the bottom.

‘Not only is this true in my world, it seems to also be true over here. Although, to this day I wonder how familiar life forms from my world got here. The native life here is… interesting.’

Humans, animals and plants aren't native to this world either?!

So, Molly thought, that there had to have been a gigantic Exotic Ritual in the distant past. One that brought all the life she knew to this world.

If that was the case, what about the magic organ? If everything was the same as her dad, wouldn't they all have slowly died without one?

And what of the native life here? Something wholly separate from animals and plants?

So many questions.

Alistir returned, and she quickly flipped back to the page they were on.

[Alistir]: “Where were we? Ah yes, reading about disease prevention.”

This was nowhere near as interesting as what she had just stumbled upon.

—--------------------------------------

The next day, Molly entered the classroom.

Her mind still raced from what she read on that forbidden page. The more she thought, the more questions appeared to pop up. In his eight years in this world, her dad had accomplished so much. Not only did he write a book containing all his world's knowledge, but also reached Sage-level alchemy. Yet, something didn't seem to line up. If he really died from magic residue build-up, why didn't he use alchemy to siphon it out of his body? Even she knew it could be done.

One would think that a genius like him could’ve cured his condition. He had learned so much about her world. The magic, the alchemy, the world’s history and inhabitants, all of it. He had both the knowledge and ability to cure his condition.

There was only one explanation.

He intentionally let himself die. Slowly.

Something had happened to make him need to die. Throughout Molly’s early years, one thing was abundantly clear about her father; he was passionately against violence and death. 

Every night, he would recall his “supervised vacations” to her as bedtime stories. Tales of solving problems in faraway lands, going on adventures, and making new friends. 

And yet, he died right when he finished that book. 

A fear began to well up. Her thoughts began to race.

Why? Why did he leave? Why did he not stay with her? Did he not love her enough? What did she do wrong? Why-

[Airen]: “What's wrong, Molly?”

[Molly]: “Noth-I-umm… well-”

[Airen]: “Are you ok?”

[Molly]: “It's… personal stuff.”

[Airen]: “...”

[Airen]: “Sorry.”

She couldn't let this eat her up. She had to focus on something else. 

If only it were that easy.

—-----------------------------

She had started losing track of what was going on around her. Her entire life was starting to seem….benign. As if nothing outside her own head mattered. It began building up within her. A deep, infinite fear. A pit. It was as if something foreign was inside her gut, a different sort of fear than merely getting scared. This… pit… was both fear and something that should be feared.

Why was it here? Was she finally realizing her father's death, deep inside?

Not quite. It felt like…guilt. Responsibility. Why was she given such a heavy burden? What had she done to earn so much trust from her father?

The days began to pass. The fear welled up within her. This wasn't something to be proud of. What was she thinking last week? That she was a hero? That she could change the world? 

She couldn't hate her dad for this, as much as she wanted to. Even though all of this fear and terror came from him. She could only blame herself for not being good enough.

Alistir picked up Molly from school. When they got in the carriage, he noticed how zoned out she was.

[Alistir]: “Molly, what's going on? Did something happen at school?”

[Molly]: “....no.”

[Alistir]: “I know training has been rough, but this… we have to do this.”

[Molly]: “....”