I never want to see that fruit vendor or those boxes of candy again. Despite all our efforts, it's still the same day. To be honest, I didn't expect our simple tactic to work, but one can always dream.

"You knew," Paimon accuses Nahida. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Nahida shrugs. "What if I had? You would have spent all night worrying, with tomorrow still out of reach." She rocks back and forth on her Dendro swing. "You might as well rest with that brief glimmer of hope. An opportunity like that doesn't come by often, and I thought it might help you clear your minds."

"Paimon thought it was the dook-dook that cleared her mind," Paimon giggles.

"I'm touched that you've been looking out for us," I say.

Nahida smiles sadly. "In the brief time we've been together, you two have been everything to me." Somehow, this makes her sound awfully lonely.

Paimon blushes at this proclamation. "Maybe you're taking things a little fast!" She chokes.

Laughing, Nahida shakes her head. "I only mean that you two are the only ones who can see me. In other words, if you weren't here, then I may as well not exist. Get it?"

"No," Paimon replies curtly. "Nahida's being confusing again."

"Anyway, enough chit-chat," Nahida says. "Based on the clues from yesterday, what is your current understanding of the situation?"

"The time loop theory is indeed incorrect," I say. "Dehya's fighting skills have improved, and Dunyarzad's condition has deteriorated."

"So what's your new hypothesis?" Nahida asks.

Dehya was able to accrue muscle memory, so time is moving forward. Still, she didn't remember anything from the previous day, so her memory must have been altered. Furthermore, we still hear the Akasha's beep at the end of each day, so we are still connected to this system.

"The Akasha erases our memories every day," I conclude. "If we don't remember having experienced 'yesterday,' we feel like it's always 'today.'"

"Oh!" Paimon exclaims. "Then the beep we hear every night might indicate the deletion of our memories."

We look at Nahida for confirmation, and she stares back with a funny expression. "Brilliant," she comments.

"Still the wrong conclusion?" I say with a sinking feeling. Not again.

"To put it simply, you've mistaken a Pyro crystalfly for a firefly in the night," Nahida says. "You lost sight of its true nature because you tunneled into your perception that it glows."

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"That's not simple at all," Paimon protests, rolling her eyes.

"Why don't you talk to Miss Dehya again?" Nahida suggests. "We don't have many more festivals to waste."

As expected, Dehya has dismissed those kidnappers unscathed. "Why are you surprised?" She scoffs. "Those rabid dogs were hardly my match."

"You're still getting used to your new greatsword," I remind her, though I'm not sure this is still the case.

Dehya is confused too. "I'm not sure why, but it just feels right," she says. "Wait! I didn't tell anyone I got a new greatsword." She stares at me accusingly, as if suggesting that I used some magical powers over her.

Here we go again. "You became proficient with your greatsword over many days, but every night our memories are erased, so you don't remember it," I say.

Gaping at me, Dehya shakes her head. "Did you get brainwashed by some cult? You're telling me that my body has become accustomed to this greatsword, but my brain doesn't remember it?"

"Don't think too hard about it," I say quickly. "Suppose that we're telling the truth."

"Then that's impossible," Dehya insists.

"Why do you say that?" I ask. Here comes our next clue.

"If we've actually been reliving the Sabzeruz festival day after day, then what happened to the items we used, the money we spent, or the food we ate?" Dehya explains. "Common sense says my wallet should've emptied itself a long time ago. There's no way I wouldn't have noticed that."

Yes, she has a point. "But if the sages were behind this," I say, "can't they use the Akasha to record what everyone did that day, and use the city's resources to replenish everything?" My memory-deletion theory is breaking down fast, and my feeble attempts to revive it sound outlandish even to myself.

Dehya agrees. "I can show you physical proof," she sighs. Beckoning towards us, she leads the way down some side streets until we reach a wide practice yard. We stop in front of one dummy, and she points at the weapon marks.

"What about it?" I ask.

"If the sages didn't replace this every day, a mere wooden dummy would be hacked to pieces by now," Dehya says. "I practice here every single day."

"So what if they did?" Paimon asks. "Suppose they replaced the dummy and the training markings."

"My martial arts school has always emphasized refined control. The force, angle, and entry point of each strike is calculated and deliberate. That's why I remember every mark on the dummy," Dehya explains. "It's impossible to copy these marks, just as it's impossible to copy another painter's brush strokes."

Well, that's the nail in the coffin. We thank Dehya for her insight and leave her to escort Dunyarzad to the theater.

I sit down on a bench next to Paimon and collate my thoughts. We're not stuck in a time loop: Dehya no longer gets hurt. We're not even in the real world, since our perceived world resets every day. Then an idea strikes me – what are the limits of this "world?"

"Have we ever tried leaving Sumeru City?" I say aloud.

"How come we never thought of this before?" Paimon says. "We can't have missed such an obvious solution. Did we forget?"

"Nahida should know," I say.

As it turns out, Nahida did know. "As far as I remember, you've mentioned your plans to do that twice before," she reports.

"I have no recollection of ever doing so," I say. Though the knowledge capsule replays the entirety of my memories each day, I have not once seen a glimpse of anything outside the city.

"What did we say when we got back?" Paimon asks.

Nahida seems lost in thought. "I don't think you ever actually told me," she says slowly. "It's more accurate to say that you never came back those nights. Sometimes you two do stay out the whole night, so I didn't think much about it."

That's suspicious. "Sometimes we lose track of time during our investigations and it rolls over into the next day," I say, "but I don't remember anything about leaving town – neither walking out nor planning to do so in the first place."

"That's strange," Nahida agrees. "In theory, I should have already awakened all your memories."

"We'll try again tomorrow," I say.

[*beep*]