Honkai Star Rail: Summoning the Chrysos Heirs — Chapter 53

Chapter 53: The Second Test

The afternoon sunlight vanished entirely, swallowed by the thick metal walls of the underground facility.

Cyrene trailed behind An Ning. As they stepped into the subterranean training ground, a draft of chilled air washed over them. It smelled heavily of industrial machine oil and aggressive air conditioning, instantly stripping away the lingering, spicy warmth of their hotpot lunch.

In the center of the cavernous space, Lei Ye stood waiting. A massive projection screen loomed beside him, casting a faint, icy blue glow across his angular, expressionless face.

“Captain Lei, I’m here for the second test,” Cyrene announced. She offered a polite, harmless smile, keeping her hands neatly clasped behind her back.

Lei Ye gave a curt nod. His sharp gaze lingered on her for a fraction of a second before he raised a remote control.

“This test primarily concerns your memory capacity.” His voice echoed through the empty hall, flat and entirely devoid of inflection. He turned slightly, gesturing to the blank screen behind him. “A series of images will flash before you. Memorize as many details as possible. Once the sequence ends, I will question you on the content. Understood?”

Cyrene blinked, nodding with wide, earnest eyes. “Understood. Please begin.”

Lei Ye didn’t waste another breath. His thumb pressed the remote.

The screen flared to life. The first image struck her eyes: a dense tangle of wild, thorny bushes, heavy shadows concealing the faint outline of a strange insect. Cyrene had barely begun to scan the foliage when the screen violently cut to black.

Two seconds.

The second image flashed instantly. A bustling wet market. Stalls overflowing with bruised vegetables, the blurred figures of elderly women haggling in the foreground.

The rhythm was merciless. No breathing room. Two seconds. Flash. Two seconds. Flash.

After five jarring transitions, the medium shifted. A video began to play. The camera shook violently, mimicking the chaotic perspective of a chest-mounted recorder. It plunged into a crowded street. A sea of unfamiliar faces rushed past the lens—pedestrians glued to their phones, couples mid-conversation, businessmen rushing against the current. The blare of car horns and overlapping chatter bled from the speakers.

Ten seconds of pure sensory overload. Then, a dead stop. The screen went pitch black.

“The material has concluded.” Lei Ye set the remote down. He picked up a printed test paper and a pen from a nearby steel table, extending them toward her. “Your questions. Answer them.”

Cyrene took the paper, letting a perfectly calculated look of dazed confusion slip onto her face. She glanced from the dark screen to the stoic captain.

“Um… Captain Lei, is that it?” She injected just the right amount of innocent bewilderment into her voice.

She had fully expected him to bombard her Remembrance with hundreds of images for ten straight minutes. Five pictures and a ten-second clip? It felt entirely too easy.

Lei Ye didn’t react. He merely raised his wrist, checking his watch. “You have ten minutes. The timer starts now.”

Realizing he wasn’t going to explain, Cyrene swallowed her feigned doubts. She carried the paper to the desk, sat down, and scanned the first line.

[Question 1: In the third image, counting from the left upwards, what object is placed on the lid of the second trash can?]

Her pen hovered over the page. Instantly, the flashing street scene surfaced in her mind. The memory didn’t just replay; it froze, rendering in startling, high-definition clarity. Tucked in that unremarkable corner, resting atop a blue plastic lid, was a crushed red soda can. She could even see the jagged crease in the aluminum.

‘…A red soda can,’Cyrene mused inwardly. The tip of her pen hit the paper, fluently scribbling the answer.’Not bad. This level of detail capture isn’t too demanding.’

At least they weren’t asking for the barcode.

The subsequent questions followed the exact same pattern. The charm dangling from a plaid-shirted pedestrian’s backpack? The exact denomination of the coin clutched by the old woman at the market? Cyrene breezed through them.

She didn’t even need to trigger her Memory Imprint. Ever since experiencing the ability’s recollection twice, her brain architecture felt fundamentally altered. Visual input no longer faded into vague impressions; it wrote directly to a mental hard drive. As long as she willed it, a mere two seconds of observation was enough to permanently burn every pixel into her mind.

Free points.

The soft scratching of her pen echoed in the silence. In less than a minute, she finished the front page. Brimming with relaxed confidence, she flipped the sheet over, ready to clear the rest.

Her hand froze.

[Question 10: While eating hotpot earlier at noon, what was the fourth item of food you put into your mouth?]

Cyrene blinked. She read it again. Then she looked at the next line.

[Question 11: When you arrived at the entrance of the police station yesterday at noon, a middle-aged male police officer passed you by; what document was he holding in his left hand?]

[Question 12:…]

Staring at the text, Cyrene subtly rubbed her forehead. Of course. She knew the Bureau wouldn’t make it that simple. This wasn’t a test of active observation; it was a trap designed to verify true Hyperthymesia.

Who in their right mind tracked the exact sequence of ingredients they ate during a casual lunch? And that passing cop—she had barely registered his existence, let alone the paperwork in his hand.

‘This really is… tricky,’ she sighed internally, leaning back in the steel chair.

The nature of the exam had completely flipped. The front page tested instantaneous memory under a focused state. The back page tested passive memory under an unconscious state. A normal human brain automatically purged useless background noise. Only a genuine Hyperthymesia patient operated like a surveillance camera that never powered down, agonizingly recording every microscopic detail of reality.

This was Lei Ye’s filter. It perfectly weeded out anyone relying on mnemonic tricks or short-term cramming.

‘Well, I was hoping to save some effort…’ Cyrene lamented.

Her enhanced brainpower might eventually dredge up the answers if she strained hard enough, but she couldn’t afford a single mistake right now. She was playing the role of a flawless Hyperthymesia patient.

Lowering her eyelashes, she focused her mind.

‘Memory Imprint.’

A familiar, resonant hum vibrated deep within her consciousness. Countless golden light particles coalesced in the dark, weaving together into a sheet of pure Memoria. With a sharp mental tear, the paper ripped in half. Cyrene’s consciousness plummeted into the depths of her Remembrance.

The police station entrance. Yesterday noon.

The timeline rewound and locked. The blurred periphery of her vision snapped into terrifying focus. The middle-aged officer. Wrinkled uniform. In his left hand, a blue folder. The bold black text across the cover read: Supplies Application Form.

The hotpot restaurant. Today.

The bubbling, crimson oil. The first bite: tripe. The second: duck intestine. The third: a slightly overcooked slice of beef.

The fourth?

The memory zoomed in, framing the tips of her chopsticks. Gripped tightly between the wood was a translucent, crystal-clear slice of potato.

Target acquired.

Her consciousness snapped back to reality. Cyrene opened her eyes. Barely a fraction of a second had passed in the physical world. She adjusted her grip on the pen and resumed writing at a rapid, unbroken pace. To anyone watching, she had merely paused for a heartbeat upon turning the page, as if casually recalling what she had for lunch, before continuing her effortless sprint.

Across the room, Lei Ye watched the pink-haired girl write. A microscopic ripple of emotion broke through his icy stare.

He knew exactly how psychotic the questions on the back of that paper were. A normal person would stare in blank confusion, scratch their head, and ultimately surrender.

Cyrene hadn’t even flinched. A one-second pause. Then, immediate writing.

It proved that those utterly meaningless, unconscious details were permanently etched into her neural pathways. She merely had to run a quick search query to pull them up.

The rhythmic scratching of the pen finally ceased. Cyrene set it down with a soft click and let out a quiet breath. She picked up the paper, stood, and closed the distance to Lei Ye with light, bouncy steps. She offered the test to him with both hands.

“Captain Lei, I’m finished.”

Her voice was bright, melodic, and entirely relaxed. She smiled up at him as if she had just completed a grade-school math quiz, rather than an invasive psychological interrogation.

“Please check it.”