After nearly two weeks of holiday, the crew returns together to the familiar office.

  The same light, the same conference table, the same whiteboard—everything just as it was,

  as if the break had been nothing more than a brief illusion.

  “Long time no see, everyone. Did you have a good holiday?”

  The director is the first to break the silence.

  The art lead slumps across the table, radiating pure misery.

  “Happy times always go by way too fast.”

  The screenwriter, by contrast, looks full of energy, sitting perfectly upright.

  “I’ve been taking very good care of my hair during this break,”

  While speaking, he proudly smooths the bangs at his forehead, the gesture surprisingly gentle.

  The art lead rolls her eyes.

  “You’ve clearly got plenty of hair. What are you even worried about…?”

  “What do you know! By the time there are symptoms, it’s already too late!”

  The manager flips through the schedule he’s holding.

  “We’ve got three meetings today. Let’s wrap them up quickly so we can get off work on time. Starting tomorrow, it’s going to be a tough one.”

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  The art lead and the screenwriter instantly deflate, nearly collapsing back into their chairs at the same time.

  The director can’t help but laugh.

  “Come on—this is exactly why we took a break in the first place, isn’t it?”

  Two weeks earlier.

  The crew was in the midst of preparations for filming the second traversal segment of Beyond All things, I Saw Time.

  At the initial stage of script analysis, everything proceeded as usual.

  But as the story gradually deepened, the overall atmosphere began to grow heavy.

  The once orderly preparation process slowly fell into pauses and hesitation.

  At last, the director called an emergency meeting.

  “I don’t think I need to say much. I believe everyone has noticed it.”

  Looking at the familiar faces before him, the tone was uncharacteristically grave.

  The screenwriter leaned back in the chair, his expression dejected.

  “I still underestimated the emotional weight of this story…”

  “While preparing the props, it felt like I was living Solas’s life.

  And knowing that the second traversal ends like this…”

  The art lead stops mid-sentence, lowering her head as she quietly wipes the tears from the corner of her eye.

  Even the manager’s voice was softer than usual.

  “With the state we’re in right now, we clearly can’t sustain this kind of shooting pace…

  And with two scripts rotating at the same time lately, no one has really had any rest.”

  “I’ll let the boss know. For now, everyone should take a break and reset.”

  The director made the final call.

  “Let’s process the emotions of this segment first—

  then come back and finish it properly.”

  Time returns to the present.

  “Let’s finish the filming of the second traversal in one go.”

  The director stands at the conference table, speaking at a brisk pace.

  “Emotions are unavoidable, but this time I’m fully prepared.”

  “To do justice to this segment, I’ve reviewed a great deal of Late Paleolithic literature, and I can guarantee that every prop is faithfully reproduced.”

  “As for the actors, I’ve already briefed them. They’re in good shape.”

  The director scans the team, a faint smile crossing his face.

  “Then let’s move on to the discussion.”

  By noon, all related content has been approved, the materials fully organized, and the performance cues clearly marked.

  The filming of the second traversal officially enters the execution phase.