As Tokyo Bay's morning mist lingered, the Reverse Scale Squad's hovercar parked before the Glyph Research Institute. Lanye pushed the door open, fingertips brushing the metal—his Glyph Core vibrated faintly, resonating at the same frequency as the bronze fragment from Dragon-Locking Abyss three days ago.
"Another abnormal fluctuation?" Xiaotao leaned over from the passenger seat, holding Coalball, her star meteorite bracelet glowing deep blue. "The institute's glyph barrier was just repaired yesterday, how could—"
"Not the barrier." Sakura's Cherry Glyph bloomed in her palm, pink light rippling in her eyes. "It's emotional waves from Glyph Masters." Her fingertip touched the air, sensing countless 细碎的 (fragmented) sorrows, like crumpled letters. "Strong... regret."
In the institute hall, alarms blared as researchers in white coats rushed about with glyph detectors. But a glasses-wearing maiden stood frozen, clutching a yellowed letter, trembling. The Glyph Core on her wrist—identical to the Reverse Scale's—oozed dark purple mist: a sign of contamination.
"Xiaokui?" Lanye recognized her. "Weren't you the one who helped mend time rifts three hundred years ago?"
The maiden looked up, red-eyed, black patterns like contamination spreading on her Core. "I'm Chaoyan, your... descendant." She sobbed, "I tried using my Glyph Core to repair Mom's memories, but she... she doesn't remember me at all."
Lanye's pupils shrank. The black mist churning in Chaoyan's Core mirrored the contamination from three centuries ago—not an energy rampage, but repressed obsession gnawing at the glyphs.
"What happened?" Su Li's Time Glyph expanded, star tracks in her cocoon twisting. "Your mother's memories..."
"She has Alzheimer's." Chaoyan trembled as she opened the letter. "I wrote this at ten, to read to her when she recovered. But yesterday, when I put the letter and her favorite cherry blossom hairpin by her bed, she..." Her voice choked, "She threw the hairpin in the trash, saying, 'I don't know this little girl'."
Morning light spilled over the letter. Lanye glimpsed the opening: "Dear Mom, today you asked me in the mirror, 'Who are you?' I knelt and held your hand: 'I'm Xiaokui, your daughter.' You smiled and said, 'Xiaokui is so good'—but that was you ten years ago."
"Glyph Cores can store memories." The berserk guardian's phantom appeared, his Core now warm. "But when obsession exceeds a glyph's limit, memories become contamination. Your mother's Core holds too much pain from 'forgetting you'."
Chaoyan's Core quaked violently. Black mist poured from her fingertips, forming her mother's face in the air—a gentle woman now frowning in 陌生 (strangeness): "Who are you? Why do you keep putting strange things in my house?"
"Mom!" Chaoyan lunged, but was thrown back by the mist. Her Core backlashed, beading blood on her skin: "Why... why forget me?"
Lanye felt a stab in his soul. He recalled Xiaotao crying over Coalball: "Will it reject me?" remembered Sakura comforting a lost child while he complained about overtime, and A Jiu's crows ambushed—his first thought: "She should focus on battle."
"Because love isn't possession; it's memory." Yue Kui's phantom appeared beside Chaoyan, their Cores resonating, seven-color light like a galaxy. "Your mother's Core holds warm memories of 'remembering you'—buried under the fear of forgetting."
She pointed to the black mist: "That's not contamination, but her fear of 'loss'. Instead of forcing memories, you should..."
"Accompany her to remember again." Lanye finished, pressing his Reverse Scale Core to Chaoyan's hand. "Use your love to give her a 'present'."
Chaoyan paused, staring at the warm light in Lanye's palm. She remembered the dried flowers by her mother's bed—she'd placed them last week with a note: "Mom, today's sun is like your pumpkin congee."
"Mom," she sniffled, "remember last Wednesday? I made pumpkin congee, and you said, 'Xiaokui's cooking is getting better'."
The black mist trembled.
"Remember?" Chaoyan's voice shook. "You said when I entered Glyph Academy, you'd put this Cherry Glyph hairpin in my hair—" She held up the discarded hairpin, "It was under your pillow, scented with your favorite jasmine."
The mist dissolved, revealing memories: her mother touching the cherry blossoms, tears on petals; holding congee, 米粒 (rice grains) on her lips, smiling: "Xiaokui cooks well"; holding Chaoyan's hand before a Glyph Core: "Mom will always remember you."
"Mom!" Chaoyan plunged into the mist.
When she emerged, her mother's Core glowed pure pink. Chaoyan's tears fell on their clasped hands, her Core bursting with seven colors—awakened moments:
Mother teaching her to tie a Glyph Core ribbon, fingertip warmth;
Her first glyph healing for Mother's headache, the surprised laugh;
Planting a cherry tree, Mother saying: "When it blooms, Xiaokui will marry";
Last night, Mother 偷偷 (secretly) tucking the hairpin under her pillow: "Can't let Xiaokui be sad".
"So that's it..." Chaoyan choked. "She remembered all along."
Morning light pierced the clouds. Outside, the Glyph Tree sprouted new buds, each leaf stardusted—moments of "remembering" wrapped in love.
"Contamination is fundamentally our fear of 'loss'." Su Li watched the Time Glyph's star tracks brighten. "And love is the only light that illuminates it."
"Thus," Lanye smiled at his Core's seven colors, "our mission isn't to fight contamination, but to—"
"Remember."
A clear voice came from behind. The squad turned to see phantoms of Future Yue Kui and the berserk guardian, their Cores resonating to form a light bridge between past and future.
"Remember every loved moment," Yue Kui's smile warmed, "for they are a glyph's true power."
At the bridge's end, words appeared:
"Love is not an accessory to Glyphs; it is why Glyphs exist.
When you light your flame for another,
the entire world will make way."
As the hovercar started, its glyph trail stretched long. The squad's glyphs shone together—star meteorite blue, cherry pink, crow gold, time silver—weaving a star track to the future.
No contamination, no control—just love, an eternal flame in every believing heart.
Beyond sight, in a dark vortex, the last defiant roar faded, replaced by countless tiny lights—new hopes kindled by love.