Seeded Bastion

As much as annoying it was after I lost my ability to open the detail screen of something, there was always a thing in this world that even I, with my heightened existence as a demi-god, cannot see.

Not because I lack the power to pry into them—no, I could do so effortlessly if it were merely a matter of force. But because the very nature of these things defies observation. 

They are hidden in ways that are not just unseen but unseeable. As if the act of knowing itself is rejected.

Ishmael was one such enigma.

Even with my perceptive extension, my ability to somehow dissect the fabric of reality itself, I could not fully extract her history. 

It was extremely fragmented, obscured by something deeper than mere mortal obfuscation.

But through Viviane's method—through a slow, patient unraveling of signs, gestures, and careful extraction—we now had the truth.

"How dangerous is this information if perceived by a mortal?" I asked Kuzunoha.