In the morning light, the suspended specimen of the Memory Devouring Beast suddenly emitted a crisp sound like shattering glass, transforming into a speck of fluorescent light that disappeared into the brick walls of the archives. The star pattern on Xia Zichen's neck suddenly dimmed. He stumbled, holding onto the doorframe, his pupils reflecting the newly appeared dark pattern on the dome—a chain of countless star symbols, connecting the entire building to the star tracks in the sky.

"Oh no!" Ah Fu suddenly dragged Xia Zichen backward. The blue bricks on the ground collapsed like dominoes, revealing a spiral staircase leading underground. The damp smell of humus hit them, and at the end of the stairs came the roar of gears meshing, exactly like the sound of Lin Yue's pocket watch spinning backwards. Xia Zichen's star-patterned compass suddenly spun wildly, the needle finally stopping deep underground: "Something out there is rewriting the anchor point of time and space."

As the two men stepped onto the stairs, the bronze door above them slammed shut. Silver slurry seeping from the cracks solidified into words on the wall: "What you see is but a drop in the ocean." Ah Fu swung his sword to split the silver slurry, only to discover that the words had seeped into the blade, and the oracle bone script on the blade began to distort. Xia Zichen bit his fingertip and smeared the blood on the compass. Scarlet star patterns extended along the stairs, illuminating the eerie murals on the walls on both sides. A figure in a black robe was throwing countless tome into a furnace, and a face resembling Lin Yue emerged from the flames.

When they reached the underground chamber, the air suddenly became thick as glue. A massive bronze prayer wheel dominated the space, its body engraved with a constantly rotating star map, each rotation discharging a tampered file. In the grooves at the top of the prayer wheel, the fragments of Lin Yue's pocket watch glowed, and the countdown on the dial resumed, the numbers turning into a glaring "00:00."

"So you're still alive," a hoarse female voice boomed from the shadows. A woman, shrouded in black slime, slowly emerged. Her face was translucent, revealing the faint ink flowing beneath her skin. "I'm Lao Zhang, the archivist whose memories were devoured." In her outstretched hand, a half-cut bloodstained file number plate gleamed faintly, marking File 404. "The black-robed man used my body as a vessel, and the ink of history's distortion is corroding my soul."

Xia Zichen's star-patterned chains suddenly flew out, wrapping around the prayer wheel in an attempt to stop it. However, the moment the chains touched the bronze surface, they melted into molten iron, causing the prayer wheel to spin even faster. Old Zhang suddenly roared in pain, her body swelling as countless tomes gushed out of her mouth. "Destroy the core! It's in the center of the prayer wheel! The black-robed man's memory anchor is hidden there!"

Ah Fu inserted the bronze key into the gap of the prayer wheel without hesitation. The oracle bone script on the sword resonated with the star map on the wheel, and a dazzling light burst out. But the laughter of the black-robed men suddenly rang out from all directions. Countless slimy tentacles extended from the center of the prayer wheel, firmly clamping the key. Xia Zichen watched the countdown shrinking, suddenly ripped open his collar, and forcibly peeled off the star pattern on his neck. In severe pain, the star pattern turned into a meteor and crashed into the core of the prayer wheel. Amid the roar of the explosion, he heard Lin Yue's voice echoing from the depths of his memory: "Memory is not a shackle, but the light that illuminates the future."

When the dust settled and the prayer wheel stopped spinning, Old Zhang's body gradually became transparent. Smiling, she handed the fragment of File 404 to Ah Fu and whispered, "True history is forever hidden in forgotten corners." Before she finished her words, she transformed into countless points of light and dissipated within the secret room. Xia Zichen leaned weakly against the wall, realizing that while his star pattern had vanished, a star map imprint, formed from fragments of memory, had appeared on his palm.

The ground suddenly shook, and cracks appeared in the ceiling of the chamber, letting in golden sunlight. Ah Fu flipped open the fragment of File 404. The yellowed pages contained the final prophecy: "When the guardian uses blood as a guide and memory as a fire, the buried truth will break free from the shackles of time and space." Sirens wailed in the distance. Xia Zichen looked at the star map mark on his palm, which suddenly pointed deep into the chamber—there, a secret door engraved with cloud and thunder patterns slowly opened. Behind the door, the gears of a pocket watch began to turn again.