Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For whatsoever from one place doth fall,
Is with the tide unto an other brought:
For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought.

― Edmund Spenser, The Fairie Queen

Sometimes Caelus dreamed of a girl.

He had his first of such dreams shortly after he embarked on the Astral Express and stepped onto the frozen plains of Belobog. At first, the newest member of the Trailblaze had written it off as another random, one-off conjuration of the mind.

But then he had another one. And another. All of them centered around this singular, elusive figure, shrouded by the impenetrable mist that was his own clouded and nonexistent memory.

Because of this, the recollection of his dreams were fleeting and fragmented, blurry and without form. 

What he did know, however, was that in the wake of the inexplicable heartache that followed these dreams, there were always bits and pieces that remained.

Sometimes he remembered a voice. It was sweet and familiar and he did not know why.

Sometimes he remembered the flash of a smile. It was bright and familiar and he did not know why.

Sometimes he remembered a gentle touch. It was soft and familiar and he did not know why.

Though he could never recall much about the girl’s appearance upon waking, there was one thing that always remained with him.

There was a sunset in her eyes.

The only person he confided in about these dreams was March 7th.

It was shortly after their encounter with the Garden of Recollection, after their somewhat fruitless attempt to unearth his fellow amnesiac’s memories with the help of the Grand Diviner. He had wanted to comfort her, to let her know that her woes were understood more than she could imagine.

So he had shared with her the voice, the smile, and the touch of the ghost with a sunset in her eyes from his dreams.

The peppy girl had first exclaimed with starry excitement that maybe it was his soulmate, that he had formed a destined connection and that it was their sworn duties as trailblazers (and best buds) to seek it out among the stars.

Then, she had noticed the foreign, forlorn look that shaded his golden eyes and the tune of her song changed almost immediately.

March had asked him if he was sad.

That question had taken him aback; people always said Trailblazer was composed, adventurous, and sometimes just a little too goofy for his own good.

Caelus wasn’t known for being sad.

So he sighed and said maybe he was, and the smile he received from his friend wasn’t quite as wide anymore.

The hug, though, was appreciated.

The Astral Express was swallowed by the red void of the Giant Sting.

Caelus hadn’t thought much of the bugs at first. His forays into Herta’s Universe, to witness the very downfall of the Aeon that birthed this Swarm, had seemingly prepared him for this very confrontation.

But as the simulated facsimile of an Aeon traversing a digital world, the trailblazer hadn’t needed to worry about the mortal ramifications of the insidious silvery scales released by every wingbeat of the Sting. He hadn’t had to consider that the remnants of the Propagation would disguise its hungry fangs with the deepest desires of those who had fallen victim as its chosen prey.

March 7th had seen a beckoning mirror of herself, tempting her with the promise of her missing past.

Argenti had seen beauty, an object of his fascination and devotion to his dearest Idrila. 

Caelus thought he had figured these intruders out, that he had rooted most of the pestilent insects from their hiding places on the Express he called his home.

Then, amidst a lull of deliberation regarding their next plan of action, he rounded the hall towards his room to see the fleeting sight of a ghostly figure. The shimmering mirage of a familiar girl glanced at him, then disappeared down the hall and out of sight.

Caelus followed.

The girl had no shape outside of a general silhouette, sometimes to the point of formlessness. It was as if he was trying to draw a picture that lived in his heart on the canvas of his mind with paints that did not exist.

Well, aside from the soft blue, pink, and white in her eyes, of course.

It wasn’t until Dan Heng had barged into the storeroom, shattering the illusion and impaling the creature lying behind it with a single throw of his jade spear, that Caelus realized he too had been fooled. Oddly, the stoic database manager of the Express refrained from delivering the chiding disapproval at being tricked like Caelus had been halfway expecting. 

Instead, his friend had asked him why he was crying.

The trailblazer didn’t have an answer.

After the ordeal had ended and the Express was once again on its way, their navigator Himeko had posited him an innocent question.

“In your opinion, what is beauty, Caelus?”

His answer was swift and immediate.

“The sunset.”

Penacony was a den of thieves.

Caelus knew that underneath the golden skyline of the eternal hour of the dreamscape, something was rotten. He had known ever since he found out about that encoded message, and the point was only driven home further when that damned IPC representative had nearly held him hostage to a rigged deal in his own room. 

Thank Akivili for the timely intervention of that galaxy ranger he simultaneously met for the first and second time shortly after.

It was because of this confusing, puzzling, somewhat frustrating prelude to the Golden Hour that he entered the sleepless dreamscape of Penacony with his usual sense of adventure tempered heavily by guarded skepticism.  

He was no stranger to agendas. Ruan Mei had an agenda. Cocolia had an agenda. Phantylia had an agenda. This was nothing new to him.

But those motives had been grounded in reality. A reality set in the vastness of space, a world of endless snow, and an arbor-plagued starship.

Here, in this fluctuating dreamscape, Caelus wouldn’t be surprised if the very walls had an agenda. Not to mention the living billboards.

So he explored the streets of the seemingly endless city with a polite smile plastered on his face and his ready baseball bat a just mere inch away in its digital storage space. 

“S-sorry for bothering you! Please, I need your help…”

Whatever polite refusal/excuse he had lined up died on his lips as his head turned to the feminine voice that had interrupted his thoughts.

The girl that had approached him had long silver hair and a pale complexion. She wore a delicate if practical green dress that accented the highlights in her hair perfectly. By most standards, she was drop-dead beautiful.

But that’s not quite what Caelus cared about.

No, what the girl possessed that interested him the most, what nearly arrested all oh his thoughts on sight, were her eyes. 

Soft shades of blue, pink, and white that quelled even the endless whisper of the World Cancer within him. 

Caelus saw a sunset in her eyes.

Against all logic, there was something about the girl named Firefly that made him forget where he was.

The way his impromptu tour-guide spoke of their surroundings with a voice tinged with awkward yet sweet and eager awe turned the set pieces of this gilded stage into true wonders to be marveled at; she stripped away all the pretense of this false world and appreciated things for simply being.

It was infectious. It was intoxicating.

It was painfully familiar.

He should have been wary when she inadvertently revealed she was much more perceptive than a small-time troupe singer had any right to be, not just anyone could notice the notorious scoundrel that was Sampo Koski (or the equally as stealthy person pretending to be Sampo Koski). On the contrary, to Caelus it seemed… right. Like another piece had been slotted into this ever elusive puzzle.

When Firefly up and outright told him that she had lied to his face, he should have left her right there and then. But some feeling within him absolutely refused to budge.

So he just smiled and nodded and she had lead him through the winding paths toward the edge of the dream together. To a place that she had called her secret.

When she shared with him the truth, her origins as a stowaway with her body sick and ailing and unable to experience life’s joy like she wanted to, he had the oddest sense of deja vu.

He should have known this. He was sure he had known this. The information was too familiar; it fit like perfect, cookie-cutter shapes in his mind instead of making space anew.

Firefly told him she was after the Watchmaker’s Legacy. She told him that she hoped they wouldn’t be enemies. 

Caelus noticed how her voice nearly trembled at that last word, burdened with a weight of things that had to remain unsaid.

So he told her the truth: that he didn’t think they would be enemies. Or even could be enemies, for that matter.

When Firefly had smiled at him, bright with the eternal Golden Hour reflected in the sunset in her eyes, he came to another startling realization.

He loved this girl. He loved this girl that he had known for maybe two or three hours at best.

And he was beginning to have an inkling why.

When Firefly gently held him, apologizing as she dissolved into nothing but fading, effervescent foam in his arms… 

Caelus had felt anger. 

He had felt the Cancer of All World’s resonate strongly, too strongly, with his hatred. And it took every ounce of his willpower and the aid of the mind-bending Memokeeper to not let the reality-warping force of destruction use his body as its outlet. 

Lest he end this dream prematurely, along with everybody in it.

As they worked to piece together Firefly’s final moments, Caelus found that he felt a sense of… wrongness.

There was something extraordinarily off-putting about the way Firefly had fallen. Like there was something missing.

It shouldn’t have been so easy; he knew she was stronger than that, more capable than that.

So where was her fire?

He barely had time to think about where these thoughts were coming from when they encountered the Stellaron Hunter named SAM.

The towering, mechanical warrior demanded them to leave. Then it attacked, lighting its own body ablaze with purging flame.

“Once you’re back in the real world, remember to tell everyone… about the Stellaron Hunter who was behind your ultimate departure.”

Then, watching the Hunter wreathed in fire descend upon them like a falling sun, something within Caelus clicked.

He had found her fire.

They met again on a platform amidst a dream of nothing, after the confrontation against the Sigonian that was supposed to be on their side.

“…Elio is right.” declared a voice in a metallic drone, “In this Land of the Dreams, you and I will reap unforgettable gains.”

The towering warrior paused, an odd hesitance for something supposed to be a machine. 

But by now, Caelus knew it wasn’t a machine at all.

“I don’t know people’s hearts as well as he and Kafka do, nor do I have a speciality like Silver Wolf and Blade,” the Stellaron Hunter SAM said, “Most of the things that I’m good at only apply to villains who need no mercy.”

The trailblazer shrugged.

“I dunno. That in it of itself seems like a pretty good speciality,” Caelus said, leaning on his baseball bat, “But if you’re looking for other work… then I think you’d make a great tour guide.”

There was little external reaction from the mechanical warrior, but the towering figure turned ever so slightly. Just enough that Caelus could see the glinting teal glow of its visor.

The galactic baseballer cracked his best grin, “Isn’t that right, Firefly?”

A long silence stretched for several seconds.

Then, without any preamble, the Molten Knight shimmered. The trailblazer didn’t even flinch when the refractory light burst into hot flame, his body reflexively familiar with the sudden heat even if he didn’t have the memory to support it.

The blaze burned out, revealing the familiar girl he had watched ‘die’ to the collective memory of Death wrought by whatever delusion this dream was turning out to be. Her expression was painfully guarded as the veins of energy that crawled up her neck faded away.

“How did you know?”

Her voice was devoid of the emotion it had just the other day. Now it was nothing but melancholy… and resignation.

Caelus shrugged.

“Same way I knew who Kafka was,” he explained plainly, “Though for you… well, long story short let’s just say I reacted a little more… strongly.”

That was somewhat of an understatement. 

Seeing Kafka had only tickled the back of his brain. 

Seeing Firefly had taken his brain and set it ablaze.

Something flickered in her expression, and the sunset in her eyes began to sparkle. Just a little.

“Then… you…?”

His smile saddened, “There’s… not a lot that I remember here—“ he pointed to his head.

Then his hand trailed over his chest, over the heart that burgeoned with an inexplicable yearning for the girl that he had only met yesterday, “—but I certainly remember you here.”

The silver-haired girl’s lips parted in silence, her hand clutching the device in her grip just a little tighter.

“Do you trust me?”

The trailblazer then let out a dry, sardonic chuckle, an uncharacteristic noise for the person he was supposed to be right now. 

“If you know me as well as I think you do, then you know I wouldn’t stick around with anybody in this Aeons-forsaken place any longer than I had to,” Caelus said, “And, memories or not, I feel like you’re the only one I can trust, ‘Fly. Outside the Express, at least.”

He hadn’t meant to shorten her name, but by the look on her face he must have done so at least once before.

The trailblazer let his bat disappear, replacing it with a take-out bag with a familiar logo on it. 

“So how about we forget about all of this for a moment,” he made a dismissive wave with his free hand, “All of this script, the agendas, the legacy. All of it.”

Caelus pulled out what was unmistakably an Oak Cake Roll, her favorite, and offered it toward her with a smile.

“And maybe you and I can have that second date?”

There was only the briefest of pauses before Firefly ran — no — flew toward him, her neutral facade finally crumbling away like sand on a Xianzhou beach. Caelus did his damn best not to drop the slice of cake as her full weight collided into his arms.

“You remember,” the girl managed through a teary sunset, “You remember me.”

Caelus did remember.

And he was not going to forget. 

Ever again.

…

“So… did you practice that line in the mirror or something?”

The girl used the cake in her mouth to stall her answer.

“…I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The boy chuckled.

“Ahem… ‘Once you’re back in the real world, remember to tell everyone… about the Stellaron Hunter who was behind your ultimate departure.’”

The girl pouted.

“…It was SAM’s idea…”

The boy chuckled harder.

Something told him SAM didn’t really speak.

And that same something also told him it was completely Firefly’s idea.

Chapter Text

Teach him. So that when the time comes he will be ready.

That was the script given to Kafka by Elio when the receptacle had been delivered to her.

Kafka took that duty in stride; one could say she almost basked in it. 

So Firefly left almost everything receptacle-related to her. The former Pterugean Devil Hunter could be surprisingly motherly in a twisted sort of way so the role just fit. As such, the operator of a Type-IV Strategic Assault Mech didn’t initially interact with the blank slate that would one day house a Stellaron in any capacity at all.

The first time they had actually exchanged words was during some downtime. Kafka was currently at the Attouine Universal Auction for a script that required a lot more stealth and finesse than anything. Apparently it had been too much of a risk to bring along the receptacle and SAM could be considered anything but stealthy.

As such, the golden-eyed boy had come across the sickly girl in a loose hospital gown going through some of Kafka’s old coats she had left in the safehouse hallway; the fashionable woman was planning on letting them go before their next departure as according to their script they would need to be leaving very, very quickly after they were finished.

“Why are you sorting through old clothes?”

“Well, you know what they say,” the silver-haired girl had said idly, “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”

As if anything that Kafka bought could be considered trash, but that was besides the point. It was meant as a passing comment, nothing more. The receptacle had accepted her answer with a nod, and went about with… whatever he did whenever Kafka wasn’t around.

Firefly had found him sorting through a trash can the next day. He had looked at her, nodded, and had gone back to looking for treasure in the kitchen wastebin.

That was how Firefly found out that there were some rather large holes in Kafka’s… education.

And so, for his sake, Firefly resolved to color in those holes herself. If anything it would give her something to do and it would hardly be conducive to the script (or her conscious) if someone one day found the bearer of the Cancer of All Worlds crawling through a dumpster.

With a huff of determination, she commenced her new mission by dragging the poor thing toward the showers.

Firefly had a problem with the receptacle.

It wasn’t directly due to the Stellaron Hunters’ current charge, per se. Thankfully, he was very quick on the uptake and was actually quite perceptive.

No, the problem was that Firefly quickly got tired of calling him ‘the receptacle.’

When she had asked Kafka why she hadn’t given him a name, the older woman said that she had told the boy he could choose one for himself. He just never did.

And so, on one day between missions, Firefly had sat down with the grey-haired boy and loaded up a list of names.

After two hours of back and forth deliberation, the receptacle finally settled on a name for no reason other than that it sounded nice.

Caelus.

Firefly’s version of life education came primarily in the form of movies.

Being chronically ill and the operator of a merciless war machine did not lend itself to a lot of firsthand experiences, which meant she could really only offer Caelus movies or books.

And, well, movies were just a bit more fun.

Sometimes they would watch documentaries about planets far far away. Other times they would watch whatever cheesy recent flick that Silver Wolf pirated straight off the IPC streaming servers. If they were lucky, Firefly would be able to get her hands on some classics from a world long lost.

Call her childish but Firefly always preferred anything with big robots, loud declarations of justice, and explosions. Surprisingly, Caelus really liked drama and mystery.

Day by day, Firefly coaxed more and more of a personality out of her new friend. He never truly left his stoic and composed origins behind, but underneath it all he had a good heart. He was kind, adventurous, and had… an eccentric sense of humor sometimes.

Over time, the movies lost their purpose. 

They continued nonetheless.

With Entropy Loss Syndrome, there were inevitably days that were worse than others. Using SAM helped ward off the symptoms, but there were always lengths of time where SAM wasn’t needed or downright contradicted what the current situation required.

These were the days where she felt slower. Usually she could just power through and hope that a ‘good night’s rest’ would be enough for the next day.

Then there were some days where she couldn’t even leave the confines of the medical pod that helped resuscitate some of her lost entropy.

Firefly was well used to it by now, but it didn’t make those days stuck in her room with only the ceiling to keep her company any less unpleasant than they already were.

Recently, though, there was one thing that did help.

If Caelus wasn’t on a mission with Kafka, he was always there. 

The future bearer of the Stellaron never said anything (not that she’d be able to hear him in a tank of medical conducting fluid anyway); he didn’t ask any questions or offer any unnecessary words of pity or sympathy.

Caelus sat beside her med-pod and was just there.

And it made those horrible, suffocating days that much more bearable.

Eventually, Firefly shared her past with him: how she was a child of Glamoth, born and engineered to be just one of countless operators of the Iron Cavalry that had burned away the Propagation at the unfortunate cost of the home they were trying to protect.

Caelus had listened in silence. And only when she had finished her war-torn tale did he speak.

“I guess we’re kinda the same, then.”

It took a moment for Firefly to process what he meant, but when she did, she cried.

Even if the methods were different, they were, in fact, the same.

A girl created to contain a peerless swarm of destruction.

A boy created to contain a peerless cancer of destruction.

Beings both born with only a goal to be fulfilled and not an end (or a future) in sight.

It just wasn’t fair.

So Firefly shed tears for both of them.

Caelus had come back from a mission covered in blood at one point.

When he expressed discontent with the sword Kafka had given to him, Firefly had recommended a baseball bat as a joke.

Lo and behold, he returned two missions later with a glowing baseball bat in his hand and a grin on his face.

With a sigh, she smiled back.

She should have expected nothing less.

Contrary to popular belief, there were Stellarons that the Hunters went to retrieve that didn’t require crimes of planet-busting magnitude. 

Given that the batter didn’t have a bounty (it would be very counterintuitive toward his intended purpose) and that no one really knew that SAM was actually a girl, these were the missions that Caelus and Firefly found themselves together on the most.

Usually it involved planets suffering disasters that had already snuffed out any civilization or with a population too frantic and under too much duress to notice the sudden appearance of a golden-eyed boy and a sunset-eyed girl. These were planets also largely incapable of putting two and two together when their Stellaron-related disaster suddenly ceased.

It was during one of these missions, however, when something went wrong and Firefly had to finally show Caelus why SAM had such a high bounty on his head.

When the charred corpse of their last opponent fell from her iron, red-hot grip, she had turned back towards the batter with some measure of trepidation.

“Damn, ‘Fly. That was pretty cool.”

Even if Firefly did so often, that was the first time the mechanical warrior named SAM ever laughed.

Falling in love kind of just… happened.

It was not like the movies they watched; there was no grandiose confession or contrived dramatic build up.

It was just a simple:

“Hey Firefly. I think I love you.”

Firefly had spat out her water. 

To be fair, she had come to terms with her own feelings for the batter quite some time before this. Though, she didn’t think he thought of her that way at all (or even knew what love felt like, for that matter).

But at the end of the day, she had resolved to grasp whatever happiness she could with her own two hands. So all she said in response was:

“I… love you too, Caelus.”

Kafka said they were adorable. Silver Wolf shot them a few nasty looks if she caught them amidst any act of affection. Blade… was Blade.

They didn’t receive any form of prophetic cease and desist from Destiny’s Slave. So with a mutual sigh of relief, they took his silence as his tacit blessing.

Their hectic life continued, now hand in hand.

Firefly wasn’t very good at video games. Having dulled reflexes and slowed movements made for a poor combination when handling a controller.

Nonetheless, she enjoyed watching Caelus play (or lose, rather) against Silver Wolf and had cheered with him when the batter had finally won against the hacker from Punklorde. 

Yes, it was a fluke win. Yes, Silver Wolf had won 200 times before that. But it was still a win nonetheless.

And his laughter was her laughter, after all.

“I’ve… always wanted to go to Penacony.”

“Penacony?” Caelus repeated, “You mean the big hotel?”

“Yeah,” Said Firefly, “I’ve heard you can enter dreams there. And I want to do…”

So much.

Caelus understood her intentions immediately.

“Let’s go together then,” he said, sparing her the need to explain, “We’ll make it a real date.”

And so the girl that could not dream began dreaming of dreams.

Firefly knew immediately something was wrong when Kafka frowned because Kafka almost never frowned.

When Firefly had asked why, the former Devil Hunter had handed her the fresh script for tomorrow’s operation at Herta’s Space Station.

The time is now. Wipe the receptacle’s memory, implant the Stellaron, and leave him at the station. He will embark with the Astral Express shortly after.

Her sunset eyes began to dilate.

Wipe the receptacle’s memory.

Wipe Caelus’s memory.

Firefly had tripped over her legs twice, running as fast as her ailing body could carry her to Caelus’s room and bursting through the door in borderline hysterics.

When she finally managed to tell him, his face had remained neutral as ever.

Traitorous thoughts flickered through Firefly’s mind, that they could run and never look back. However, when her sunsets met his gaze of steady, hardened gold they remained unvoiced.

“You’re… leaving, aren’t you?”

His silence stretched for an eon.

“…Yeah,” he said, rending her heart open with a bullet carved from a single word, “Because…”

She shook her head, spilling tears despite how much she tried to hold the pierces of herself together. He didn’t need to finish.

This was Caelus’ purpose, and that purpose was important. So important that it dwarfed both of their mere wants and needs no matter how much either of them wanted otherwise.

Of everything that they had been deprived of, purpose was never one of them.

Caelus was born to carry this Stellaron to the end of their journey… and Firefly couldn’t bring herself to take that from him, despite how much it made her want to set worlds ablaze with her agony alone.

Firefly felt arms around her trembling frame. She realized he was crying, too.

They spent the rest of the day together up on the roof, watching the night sky overtake the sunset with a familiar tapestry of dark hues. Even when the chill of night blanketed the world, they remained side by side.

With every shooting star that shot past, Firefly wished she could grasp onto each glimmering tail and let it carry them starward. Somewhere up and up and far far away.

“When the day we cross paths again arrives… let’s pretend we’ve never met, and get to know each other all over again…”

Caelus didn’t say anything at first, his stony expression remaining thoughtfully unchanged.

“Why?”

“We’d… just be two souls wandering the galaxy. Not criminals, not accomplices. Just two ordinary people, getting to know each other in an ordinary way.”

To her, it was the thinnest sliver of silver linings she could possibly scrape off from the impending wall of so-called destiny falling between them.

Despite everything, Caelus chuckled, “Just like the movies?”

A tattered fragment of a laugh escaped her, “Yeah. It’s… the greatest luxury I can imagine.” 

Caelus’ expression tightened for just a moment and Firefly knew she had been caught lying. Still, he shook his head and smiled.

“It’s a promise, then.”

The time spent in the cold outdoors naturally had a direct impact on her ELS and when the time came for Caelus to leave she could barely stand. Still, her partner had helped her return to her room, back to the medical pod that always awaited her. 

“Hey, ‘Fly?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think… I’ll still remember you?”

Firefly let out a shuddering breath against his chest.

“…Even if you forget everything, Cae, it doesn’t matter,” she said, “Our promise… it’ll be engraved on my heart.”

For both of their sakes.

Caelus smiled and pressed his forehead against hers.

“Then I’ve got nothing to worry about.”

He bid her goodnight with one final kiss, one last ‘I love you.’

Then the pod sealed and the sky was gone.

For once, Firefly was glad she was locked away.

The warm fluid could, at the very least, hide the endless flow of tears.

Let us meet again, underneath the shooting stars of a beautiful night.

Kafka had offered to lessen the emotional blow by suppressing her memories.

It was the second time in her life Firefly had almost snapped with anger. Kafka did not bring up the subject ever again.

No one commented when SAM unleashed a bit more Scorched Earth than usual during the following missions. Nor did they notice if the mechanical warrior’s words were slightly thornier during the Jepella Rebellion.

Firefly noticed that during her worst days, there was always someone to keep her company. Whether it was Kafka with a fashion magazine or Silver Wolf with a handheld game console. Even Blade sometimes stood at silent vigil at one point.

She realized Caelus had talked to them before he had left. 

And while it still twisted the knife in her heart to think about him, she appreciated all of them regardless.

The next time Firefly saw him, it was surprisingly on a social media post.

Silver Wolf had shown her a picture of a viral ghost hunting squad making rounds on the Xianzhou Luofu media-space. Sure enough— alongside a rather known influencer, what looked to be a cloud knight, and a (utterly adorable) foxian girl— was her gray-haired batter. 

Caelus looked like he was doing well, though his smile was a little smaller than she remembered.

Silver Wolf had offered to hack into their accounts for more info, but Firefly declined her.

Seeing him happy was enough.

Even if she herself was not.

Firefly should have been happy when Elio told her of the role she was to play on the stage of Penacony.

She should have been ecstatic roaming the streets of the Golden Hour with a body of a girl unplagued by a wasting sickness.

But, despite it all, she couldn’t bring herself to enjoy a single second of it.

For two weeks, she scouted the world of the dreamscape, looking for any sign of the Watchmaker’s Legacy or anything that could help her in her mission to get the Astral Express on board with this chase.

And she pointedly did not think about what that meant in regards to approaching a now notorious baseball-bat wielding trailblazer.

When she finally found herself being accosted by the Bloodhound Family for snooping around in places she did not belong, Firefly didn’t have to act surprised when her eyes fell upon the familiar figure of the stranger she loved passing by.

So much for finding him. He had found her.

Maybe it was reflex, maybe it was her heart acting before her mind did, but in the end she ended up running straight to him. 

“S-sorry for bothering you! Please, I need your help…”

When she saw his golden-eyes widen upon seeing her, something in Firefly sparked alight for the first time in a long time.

Before she could stop herself, before she could tell herself that this wasn’t the time to carry out their promise, she had offered to take him on a tour of the Golden Hour.

Originally, it was nothing more than a harmless offer; a little stunt to help peak his interest in the Watchmaker’s Legacy.

The Masked Fool was a nuisance, but soon enough Firefly found herself vicariously living a forgotten promise though the closest thing to a date possible. Even the aloof Galaxy Ranger had even called her out on it.

Despite her hasty deflection, she knew the sword-wielding ranger was right.

Firefly took him everywhere she could think of and every sight she passed by previously suddenly became an opportunity. To her joy, the trailblazer seemed to be enjoying himself and for now that was all that mattered.

Eventually, somewhere along the way, her mission changed slightly.

Elio had told her she would ‘reap unforgettable gains.’ So what if she decided to be a little more active about that part of the prophecy?

So she took the trailblazer to the dream’s edge and spilled out a heavily truncated version of her life story in hopes that it would maybe, just maybe, jog a memory here or there.

Firefly’s heart soared when he smiled at her the same way he used to. When he said that they could never be enemies, she almost cried.

Despite her progress, she had stopped her efforts there. There was still the script, and she was content knowing that her batter was still in there somewhere.

It seemed like Penacony really was the Land of Dreams, after all.

They met again on a platform, after the confrontation against the Sigonian that was supposed to be on his side.

“…Elio is right.” SAM told the trailblazer in a metallic drone, “In this Land of the Dreams, you and I will reap unforgettable gains.”

The towering warrior paused. Firefly was unsure how to proceed with the trailblazer that had watched her die.

“I don’t know people’s hearts as well as he and Kafka do, nor do I have a speciality like Silver Wolf and Blade,” SAM said, “Most of the things that I’m good at only apply to villains who need no mercy.”

There was a moment of silence.

“I dunno. That in it of itself seems like a pretty good speciality,” said the trailblazer, “But if you’re looking for other work… then I think you’d make a great tour guide.”

Firefly’s mind slowed to a halt as she wrapped her head around his statement.

SAM turned ever so slightly. Just enough that the mechanical warrior could see the trailblazer grinning at her out of the corner of its vision.

“Isn’t that right, Firefly?”

Unseen, the girl’s breathing hitched. She felt something in her chest swell that she tried to ignore.

Without any preamble, she deactivated the armor that made her SAM, watching as the trailblazer didn’t even bat an eye at the heated flames she released.

When they faded, Firefly leveled as neutral of a look as she could manage at the newest passenger of the Astral Express. 

“How did you know?”

The trailblazer shrugged.

“Same way I knew who Kafka was,” he explained plainly, “Though for you… well, long story short let’s just say I reacted a little more… strongly.”

Kafka had told her that the trailblazer did recognize the former Devil Hunter upon his awakening. She was just too blinded by the pain of separation to care at the time...

Her sunset searched his golden, and what they found there was more precious to her than any nebulous Legacy to be found on this gilded dreamscape.

“Then… you…?”

His smile saddened, “There’s… not a lot that I remember here—“ he pointed to his head.

Then his hand trailed over his chest, “—but I certainly remember you here.”

The silver-haired girl’s lips parted in silence, her hand clutching the device in her grip just a little tighter as she struggled so hard to find her next words.

“Do you still love trust me?”

The trailblazer then let out a dry, sardonic chuckle, an uncharacteristic noise for the person he was supposed to be right now.

But was just right for the person Firefly so desperately wanted to see.

“If you know me as well as I think you do, then you know I wouldn’t stick around with anybody in this Aeons-forsaken place any longer than I had to unless I had a good reason to,” Caelus said, “And, memories or not, I feel like you’re the only one I can trust ‘Fly. Outside the Express, at least.”

‘Fly.

Firefly’s heart skipped several beats. If she had been in the real world, she was sure her legs would have given out by now. 

The trailblazer let his bat disappear, replacing it with carry-out bag with a very familiar logo on it. 

“So how about we forget about all of this for a moment,” he made a dismissive wave with his free hand, “All of this script, the agendas, the legacy. All of it.”

The trailblazer pulled out what was unmistakably an Oak Cake Roll and offered it toward her with a smile. An oh-so familiar smile that proved beyond a doubt that the person in front of her wasn’t just a trailblazer.

“And maybe you and I can have that second date?”

To hell with that promise.

This was him.

This was her Caelus.

There was only the briefest of pauses before Firefly sprinted toward him, Mecha’s controller falling loose from her grip she fully threw her arms around him.

“You remember,” the girl barely managed through a choked sob, “You remember me.”

When she felt his hand run through her silver hair, she knew Caelus did remember.

And she was not letting go of him. 

Ever again.

…

“It… was part of Elio’s script!”

The boy stared at her with unconvinced golden eyes.

“…If I remember correctly, Elio’s scripts were like three sentences long. Four, if he was being generous.”

The girl’s pout deepened even further.

“Darn it. Of all the things, why did you have to remember that?”

An amused huff escaped into the air.

“Well, I didn’t really. But you just confirmed it.”

Twin sunsets widened, “Why you-“

The sound of laughter echoed over an empty expanse as a trailblazer dodged a flying piece of cake aimed for his forehead.

Chapter Text

“Is… that a baseball bat?”

“Yep.”

“And where exactly did you get it?”

“Loar-51. Found it in a trash can,” Caelus explained simply, proudly presenting the glowing metal rod like a dog that had found the holy grail of all bones. 

Firefly frowned in her head; actually, a raccoon would be a better descriptor now that she thought about it.

“Pretty cool, right?” Caelus continued, “Wolf said it has an energy amplifier built in. Must’ve been used for some crazy version of baseball.”

Firefly let a slightly exasperated sigh leave her lips when her friend suddenly yelled ‘batter up!’ and took a batting stance that was way too exaggerated to be practical. And this was all with his usual straight face.

“…You know I was joking when I said you should try using a baseball bat?”

Caelus tilted his head, “You were?”

There was a glint in his eye that told her that Caelus knew she definitely had been and Firefly failed to bite back a chuckle.

Fine. She did have to admit it was pretty cool.

“Please tell me you at least washed it.”

The way his expression faltered ever so briefly told her that he, in fact, had not washed it.

Firefly just shook her head and began pushing him toward the washroom.

“Oh Caelus, what am I going to do with you?”

“How do you fight, Firefly?”

Elio had given Firefly and Caelus another script, this time to a far off planet that had essentially been drowned in Fragmentum. Between Firefly’s sealed armor and Caelus’s innate resistance to Stellaron contamination, one didn’t really have to have the foresight of Destiny’s Slave to realize why they were the ideal choice.

Given the hostility of the environment they were jumping feet first into, the question directed to her by her dear friend was somewhat inevitable.

“With fire,” Firefly said simply, “And as quickly as possible.”

Caelus frowned, “That’s not how Kafka does things.”

“Yes, well, Kafka likes to play with her food,” Firefly said, her expression souring somewhat of the thought of the Devil Hunter’s victims.

Firefly shook off her grimace as she continued fiddling with the glowing controller in her hand.

“Let’s just say it’s a difference in upbringing.”

“Can you tell me more?”

And so Firefly had spent the next hour summing up her belief in the four Ds, her personal distillation of the tactical approaches drilled into all pilots destined for the Calvary of Glamoth from the time they could walk. 

Efficiency had to be prized when your mortal enemy was a swarm that grew ever larger with every precious second wasted. It was eradication or death with no margin for error.

Caelus had listened, expression neutral as he usually was when discussing topics of this nature. By the time she had finished what had basically turned into a lecture, he had simply nodded.

“I think I like that better.”

It didn’t take long for Firefly to realize that Caelus wasn’t afraid of her fire. In fact, he was quite prone to getting a little too close to her own earth scorching blazes for comfort.

During one particular engagement, her partner had gotten so frighteningly close to her searing flames that Firefly nearly shouted at him for getting careless mid combat.

“You should really be more careful,” Firefly chided afterwards, her voice made maybe a bit too stern by her armor’s voice modulator, “I don’t want you to get burned.”

Caelus shrugged, his trusty baseball bat held between his shoulders.

“It’s fine,” he said, “I get pretty cold at night, you know.”

Caelus must have felt her incredulous gaze pierce straight through the reinforced plates of her armored helmet and obliterate his attempted jape to equate her thermic weapon with a heated blanket because he quietly averted his golden eyes.

“It… makes me feel a little less empty.”

It took a second, but Firefly soon came to a sobering understanding.

Caelus was created to house a Stellaron; he was built to contain an incredible amount of energy.

An incredible amount of energy that he currently did not have.

Firefly never made a comment on the topic ever again. 

And maybe, for his sake, she became just a little more clingy during post-movie cuddle time. 

Caelus made fighting with baseball bat look so easy. In fact, he had become so adept at wielding the metal rod that Firefly had begun recognizing certain patterns in his combat style.

When Firefly had asked what he called the nine-hit combo finisher she had seen him use multiple times now, she was appalled when he said it didn’t have one.

“What do you mean it doesn’t have a name?” Firefly gawked, “You’ve done it like six times now, it has to have a name!”

Caelus shrugged, “‘Fly, I’m just hitting people. And I’m pretty sure you’re the only one of us that names attacks.”

Firefly pouted. So what if Silver Wolf had called her cringe that one time she accidentally shouted ‘Scorched Earth Operations’?

“It’s your personal style. It’s important.”

“What happened to efficiency?”

“Attack names don’t affect combat efficiency! In fact, it builds morale.”

The sunset in her eyes burned with determination. Caelus was not getting out of this.

After several minutes of silence, a tactic she knew her partner liked to use to quietly change the subject, she declared the following.

“If you don’t come up with a name, then I’m naming it.”

Caelus stared at her for a long second, then sighed.

“I have to approve it,” he finally acquiesced, “And It better not be ‘Death Sentence’ or ‘Twilight Twill.’”

Firefly suddenly felt a bit scandalized, “Hey, those were great names!”

The look she received from Caelus was the flattest she had every seen come from his stoic face.

“Blade choked on his water when you recommended it to him.”

“Kafka thought hers was cute!”

Caelus still looked unimpressed. Though maybe it was because he always looked like that.

Still, Firefly simmered, “Fine! If I come up with a name you actually like, you owe me a cake roll!”

“Deal.”

They continued to argue for the rest of the night. So much so they forgot about the movie they were supposed to be watching. By the end of it all, the girl did get the batter to admit that she did come up with a pretty cool name for his coup de grace.

Firefly was very much looking forward to the taste of sweet victory.

In the face of the meme that represented death, Firefly watched as the trailblazer discarded his bat for a new weapon, a lance made of crystal. 

She knew what it was; Silver Wolf had shown her the Lance of Preservation through a hastily recorded online video by someone on Herta’s Space Station.

Despite this, something within her still twinged bitterly at the sight of the gray-haired young man cloaked in billowing red flame.

Those were her flames, once.

As she stood back and watched the person she once knew and the mysterious memokeeper hold the winged nightmare at bay, she idly wondered if he was still drawn to fire even with the Stellaron now within him.

She silently prayed that he did. 

If only for the selfish chance that it just may lead him back to her.

“All… for the Amber Lord!”

High above the stage of the Stoneheart’s last gamble, on a skyscraper overlooking the sleepless dream, a girl behind a green visor abused her zoom functionality to spy on this evening’s proceedings with great interest.

Even though she couldn’t quite put her finger on why, Firefly thought that chucking glittering, oversized coins at one’s enemy was distasteful in some way. Maybe it was because she was too familiar with the steep cost of medical expenses, but she decided it was still oddly on point for the IPC. 

She wondered how many cake rolls she could buy herself pawning off ones those coins and only for one split second did she consider flying out to try and discreetly catch one.

…Alright, maybe she was a bit too bored. 

Still, in the face of the IPC’s coin-slinging Stoneheart, The Astral Express made for fierce opposition. 

The trailblazer wielded his lance with surprising prowess, plowing through barrages of coins with fearsome charges of fire.

Firefly was still not jealous of the sharp glowy rock taped to a stick. She wasn’t. Why would she be jealous when she had a cool glowy armored mechsuit? 

With dual capable zero-G to atmospheric jet boosters. 

And an adjustable face plate. 

And a lot Scorched Earth Operations. 

Nope, she wasn’t jealous at all.

She pushed aside intrusive thoughts to refocus on the Express’ efforts. The trailblazer’s assault allowed the Express navigator to tactically unleash her orbital hellfire in a manner that always kept the golden gambler on the back foot. And even if Aventurine seemed to gain some momentum in the face of this sheer offensive front, it was quickly halted by a wave of spectral ice from the pink-haired girl. The trailblazer had mentioned her name, March 7th, if Firefly remembered correctly.

The true oddity among them was the spectacled man, however. He seemed almost… detached from the combat, standing on the sideline with a steady grip on his cane.

Occasionally, and only occasionally, his hand moved. 

At first, Firefly had no idea what he was doing, but then her honed battle instincts started noticing things.

Sometimes a coin flew a bit too far to the left. 

Sometimes Aventurine conveniently lost his footing. 

Sometimes March 7th dodged a bit farther than she intended, but just enough to luckily avoid being hit by a diving dice.

Firefly knew the older man was holding back something. The only question was what, though she was by no means in any rush to find out.

Then, about midway through the fight, Aventurine changed strategy. With a snap of his fingers, a hole in the sky opened up, revealing a burgeoning vault ready to become a monetary rain of golden death. 

Sparing only a single glance upwards, the trailblazer used the flames of his lance to rocket into the air, propelling himself alone toward their opponent. The archer of the group shouted in surprise and it was clear this was a stark departure to the group’s usual tactics.

The amber lance disappeared midair, replaced with a familiar baseball bat. 

Firefly had seen him use his old weapon mostly during their escapade to her secret base, but he had taken to simply beating the automatons they had encountered somewhat thoughtlessly. The attacks were effective, but it had been a disappointingly far cry from the prowess that Caelus had wielded when he had held that same bat in his strong grip.

So it was to her personal surprise that Firefly watched the trailblazer hit the ground, immediately use his momentum to roll underneath a flying coin, then transition smoothly into a crow-hopping two-handed swing that would make even the most experienced IPC baseballers proud.

The Rolling Grand-Slam, as he had used to call it, nearly sent Aventurine spiraling 720 degrees in the air. His flight was arrested when a gloved hand reached out and pulled the Stoneheart back toward the batter. 

Holding a baited breath, Firefly knew exactly what was coming next. 

Gone were the wild and sloppy strikes of yesterday as the trailblazer’s bat instead became a finely crafted killing blur. Two strikes to head, two to the elbows, two the knees, three to the heart (or, in this case, the Stoneheart’s glowing core). All nine heavy cracks of the bat were delivered in less than two seconds.

A brutalized Aventurine staggered backwards violently, his previous attack from the sky forgotten as he fell to the ground from a sequence of blows that Firefly had watched end the lives of many lesser men. From the expressions of the Express crew, ranging from wide eyes to furrowed concern, it was obvious this was their first experience witnessing the coup de grace that Firefly herself had named so long ago.

The Bottom of The Ninth, a certain Stellaron Hunter’s straightforward answer to her preferred combat ideology of the four Ds:

Discombobulate. Disarm. Demobilize. Destroy.

The trailblazer twirled his bat as he approached his now floored opponent with a look that was far more clinical than his usual stoic expression. Then he raised his weapon high and hit the gambler over and over and over again, each heavy handed blow growing the web of cracks on the pavement beneath.

With every blunt thud that echoed over the stage to the shocked silent audience that was his teammates, the burning phantom pain behind Firefly’s chest become more and more apparent. She came to the chilling realization that the trailblazer was very, very angry.

And Firefly knew the things that somehow managed gain his ire never stuck around for too long.

Eventually, Aventurine got tired of being used as batting practice and answered his unyielding assailant with a raw, golden shockwave, finally forcing the trailblazer back in a marked departure from his constant showmanship just moments prior.

“Always hide your ace with a straight face…” Aventurine grumbled as he rose back into the air, small fragments of green material falling loosely from his noticeably cracked form.

As the Stoneheart cast his final trump card, usurping the night with an expanse of glittering gold, Firefly jolted as an angry red alarm invaded her green-tinted vision.

WARNING. WARNING. STELLARON CONTAMINATION DETECTED.

Guided by her hazard detection subsystems, her keen sight was immediately drawn to two golden eyes that shined with a light far, far more alarming than the fleet of coins massing above them.

Even within the metal suit that encased her, Firefly stiffened.

Had the trailblazer been using the Cancer of All Worlds this entire time? Was that how his blows were able to shake a stalwart pseudo-emanator of the Preservation?

Amidst a Golden Hour bathed in far more gold than it was ever intended to, a dreadful awareness seized Firefly as a far more unsettling question came unbidden to the front of her mind.

Was the trailblazer using the Stellaron or was the Stellaron using the trailblazer?

As Aventurine of Stratagems delivered his final wager, his final terms against the Emanator disguised as a galaxy ranger, Firefly watched in half-parts fascination half-parts horror as the dream around the trailblazer begin to twist and warp. Her audio receptors picked up the navigator yelling something, probably in an effort to get the trailblazer to stop.

She had no idea what effect the Fragmentum would have on a collective dream fabricated by the Harmony, but she would hedge her paltry fifteen thousand credits it was anything but good.

The Strategic Assault Mech began warming its thrusters, moments away from blasting off the roof.

Then the emanator took four steps forward and tore the color out of the golden sky with a single brushstroke of the bloodiest red.

The unraveling that the Stellaron began was finished by the Nihility as the faux-reality finally collapsed under the overwhelming astral powers at play, layers of the dream tearing at the seams to reveal the memory depths within.

Too much happened at once for Firefly to know what happened for certain, but Aventurine was simply gone, vanished without a trace. She was about to make herself scarce, but then her optics zeroed in on the trailblazer, still outlined in the red warning of her hazard detection, falling into the dream abyss below.

Firefly made a choice in less than a second then threw herself off the building, thrusters igniting as she became a fiery hot streak through the air. Thankfully, her flight went unnoticed amidst the dozen teams of dreamweavers pouring into the the surrounding area to stabilize the fragmenting reality. 

Firefly followed the trail of Fragmentum to her target, swiftly catching him in her armored arms as she continued their measured descent into the dream between dreams. 

Into a place no one could bother them.

Regardless of her intentions, Firefly still didn’t know what to think about the gray-haired young man in her arms.

Her mind knew she had come to watch a trailblazer.

Her heart knew she was leaving with a Stellaron Hunter.

Or, at the very least, a piece of one.

…

The cake was gone now. 

Still sitting on the floor, the silver-haired girl had settled quietly against the gray-haired boy’s side.

“Did you… have to use the Stellaron?”

“You noticed?”

“SAM told me.”

Silence stretched for three long seconds.

“You always said to use everything at my disposal.”

“As much as I would like to take credit for that, that was Kafka.”

The boy just shrugged. A comfortable silence stretched for a few moments.

The girl spoke again, “Just… be safe, alright?”

The boy ran a wandering hand through the girl’s hair.

“You still worry too much… I think.”

A light huff echoed through the expanse, followed by a pinch to his cheek.

“When it’s you, I don’t worry enough.”

Chapter Text

“What are you working on?”

Caelus sat down on the bed beside a busy silver-haired girl swaddled in blankets. In her hands was a small journal and a scribbling pen. A holographic screen displayed what looked like to be a travel brochure, casting her in a soft blue glow. 

“Oh,” she said, her writing implement pausing, “This is my Penacony wish list.”

Firefly tsked when a pop up IPC advert with a snazzily dressed blonde man trying to sell something obstructed her view. She clicked it off before the pen continued onwards across her journal page.

Silver Wolf would have just told her to jot it down in her phone, but Caelus knew that the constant usage of SAM made Firefly appreciate simpler things. 

Caelus set aside the food he brought and craned his head to get a closer look. Firefly didn’t stop him.

“…Get drunk? Really?”

“Yep,” she admitted shamelessly, “It’s not like I can get drunk… like this.”

And she couldn’t, not with her engineered biology. Still, Caelus was surprised to see it there on the girl’s list, written in drying ink.

“It’s nothing really to write home about,” Caelus admitted.

Then pen paused again, its owner suddenly turning her sunset eyes to probe the boy next to her.

“…You’ve gotten drunk?”

Caelus shrugged, “Blade shares his baijiu after missions.”

They were hardly festive affairs, but it was truly one of the only displays of solidarity that the stoic batter and the tortured bladesman shared ever since the latter had joined.

“Well, either way, it’s staying,” Firefly declared with finality, “In fact, I think I want something sweet and fruity. So remember that for me, alright?”

Caelus chuckled, “Alright, your highness. But speaking of something sweet, I brought you a little gift.”

Firefly’s eyes glittered at the sight of her favorite confection.

“You really like to spoil me, you know that, right?”

“Duh.”

In truth, Caelus always spoiled her a bit extra before she was due for entropy resuscitation. And, based on her pallor and her lidded eyes, she would most likely be spending tonight in a pod instead of her bed.

Hence, second dessert.

Despite her apparent weariness, the edges of her eyes creased as she giggled, “Well, then you’ll have no problem feeding me, will you Mr. Stellaron?”

Caelus fed Firefly forkfuls of strawberry cake roll as she continued her super important research late into the night. When it was time for her to rest in her medical pod, she had concocted quite a list.

1. See the Golden Hour sunset.
2. Eat an oak cake roll.
3. Visit the Penacony Grand Museum during the Moment of Sol.
4. Buy a pretty teal dress during the Moment of Dusk.
5. Get drunk.
6. See a show at the Penacony Grand Theater
7. Have a real date in the Blue Hour.
8. Dance on the Eventide on the Sea of Dreams.
9. Go swimming during the Moment of Oasis.
10. Ride a pinball machine.
11. Play one (and only one) game of craps at a casino.

Caelus quietly bookmarked the page of her journal before stowing in its usual living place in the hidden little nook of her bed-table. He flicked the lights off so she could rest then crawled into bed himself. 

That night, he dreamed of her list, a list he had no doubt would grow longer as time stretched on. 

Well, it was more like their list.

Her wishes were his, after all.

By the time Caelus and the other trailblazers were traveling to the edge of the dream in pursuit of the Bloodhound, whatever the memokeeper had done to him had fully worn off. As such, it was to no surprise that his state of numbness had quickly given way to a flaming pit of anger.

While March and Himeko chatted quietly in front of him, the only thing that played through Caelus’ mind was a single scene.

Of a grotesque monster driving a bladed wing though the heart of a girl with a sunset in her eyes.

Caelus had tuned out their investigation in the hotel lobby. He didn’t really care who Firefly was or was pretending to be because he was sure now that he had known her before; she could be an emanator of destruction for all he cared because to his heart she had mattered and to him that was enough.

And then, when he had finally found what he had been looking for, the strongest link to his murky past that had been haunting him for the past months, some twisted meme had taken her right out his hands and killed her in a reality where people weren’t supposed to die.

The only thing that wasn’t causing him to retch was the assurance that the Stellaron Hunter SAM possessed her flames... and while he wasn’t completely certain, he decided to cling to that thread of hope as a lifeline for the sake of everyone on Penacony.

But she was still gone, and, as a long as that was true, Caelus would remain angry.

He scoffed bitterly to the sparkling clean sidewalk. This entire farce was just some sort of cruel joke.

Caelus stopped walking when he felt the whispers of the Stellaron within him reach a fever pitch. His eyes swept the busy street, looking for something —anything— for him to anchor on to as a distraction him from his own feelings.

Instead, golden eyes stilled instantly when they stopped on a shimmering, misty teal dress staring innocently through a shop window.

For several seconds, Caelus may as well been a marble statue, eyes unblinking as his brain sorted through fragments of a memory that brought with it a paralyzing flood of emotions.

Firefly had… wanted a dress like that.

When the turmoil had passed, his anger briefly bottomed out, replaced with something just as suffocating.

“Caelus?!”

The trailblazer jolted back to reality (or dream reality) at the sound of one of his current female companions. He shook his head to find March 7th in front of him. Himeko was only a few paces away.

They both had the same concerned look in their eyes.

Caelus palmed his face, “…a list…”

“A what?” March said, not quite hearing his mumble.

Caelus shook his head, “Nothing. Just… let’s go.”

He felt a hand grab him by the sleeve.

March’s shaded eyes looked up at him, “Caelus, is something wrong?”

“Why… would you think that?”

“Oh, I dunno,” March quipped, a slight edge of sarcasm biting at her voice, “You’re spacing out, you usually would’ve said something out of pocket by now but you’ve been completely silent, and you’re super, super tense.”

Caelus had meant to sigh at her, but what came out of his mouth was something between a hiss and scoff. 

“You… wouldn’t understand,” he said curtly. Then he continued wordlessly down the street, down the same path Firefly had lead him several hours ago.

March 7th was left speechless in his wake. She and Himeko exchanged a glance.

“I don’t get it,” March said, as they followed their fellow traveler “Caelus knew this girl for what, like, seven hours or something? I mean, I know it couldn’t have exactly been pleasant watching her die… but…”

Himeko hummed thoughtfully, “I suspect that there’s another layer to this. I… don’t think Miss Firefly is as ordinary as she let on.”

March frowned, “Do we even know what she looks like? Was she super pretty or something?”

Personally, she doubted it was for a reason so shallow, but it was just a thought.

“Caelus did send me a picture,” Himeko admitted, taking out her phone, “Here, take a look.”

Himeko showed her a selfie of a familiar gray-haired boy and the silver-haired girl that was their second murder victim. They were smiling with the backdrop of the Golden Hour behind them painting the sky a beautiful tapestry of colors.

But that wasn’t the only sunset that the trained photographer within March noticed.

Oh. Oh no.

Her heart dropped to the floor as she finally understood just why Caelus was so torn up about a girl he had met only yesterday.

The girl had a sunset in her eyes.

When he had run into that obstinate Bloodhound guard for the second time, Caelus had used his emotional tinkering to set him off again. It had worked last time, after all.

As such, Caelus had beaten the second wave of automatons to submission with startlingly ease. The first few crumbled underneath his baseball bat, but he crushed the last canine with his barehands. If his companions had noticed, they didn’t comment.

Still blocking their way, He rectified his mistake with another measured application of emotional manipulation to the guard and soon they found their target.

Gallagher of the Bloodhounds had been surprisingly affable, and seemingly not a moment later he was sitting on a stool at a bar hidden in the depths of the Dreamscape Reverie.

While March was fascinating herself trying out different combinations of ingredients they had found with Siobhan, the gruff bartender polished the glass that had contained their first drink turned metaphor to a spotless sheen.

“So, kid,” the security officer asked gruffly, “Anything else you’d like?”

Caelus tilted his head slightly, “Going to make me work for this one, too?”

“Nah, I’ll cut the shit,” Gallagher said gruffly, “It just seems like you just need a drink, Mr. Stellaron. A real one. With no strings attached.”

The moniker tickled his brain. He had been called that before by a girl far kinder.

Within the unreadable, churning tumult of his mind, a strand of memory floated to the surface.

“…something sweet… and fruity.”

Gallagher quirked an eyebrow, “Huh. No judgement, but I didn’t take you for a sweet drinker.”

He wasn’t really. For some reason, Caelus was extremely partial to whiskey, a type of Xianzhou baijiu that the Arbiter General had shared with him as a parting gift that made Dan Heng smile and March 7th puke.

“It’s… not for me. But feel free to try and knock me out.”

“Ah, I see,” Gallagher said. Then he said no more.

His hands worked quickly and skillfully, pouring syrups and liqueur into a shiny metal shaker. His arms became a blur as he shook it with ease and Gallagher was soon pouring a vibrant red concoction in a martini glass. He garnished it simply with an orange peel and slid it to Caelus.

“My take on a Golden Hour Cosmopolitan, made with vintage Belobogdian Firewater and fortified with dream syrup. Just for you,” Gallagher said.

“Belobogdian Firewater?” Caelus repeated, familiar with the liqueur, “And this is sweet?”

Gallagher winked, “That’s what the dream syrup is for.”

He then left to go supervise whatever unholy creation March had requested, leaving Caelus alone to himself.

Caelus stared at his tinted golden eyes reflected in the pool of blood-red.

“Well,” he said to himself, “Here’s to you, ‘Fly.”

He raised the glass to the air then took a sip.

Caelus, of course, nearly gasped as he felt the firewater, scorching his throat all the way down as it lived up to its namesake. 

The searing heat felt… familiar, accompanied with a harsh glint of white and the hiss of jets.

Then the flames abated, giving way to a far softer warmth that allowed the fruity syrups far more room to blossom into a tangy, sweet aftertaste. 

It culminated into an incredibly lasting fullness, a different type of warmth that resonated with the deepest, unreachable parts of him.

Despite himself, Caelus smiled. He was certain now.

The unyielding flames and the gentle warmth. They were similar. No, they were the same.

They were all her.

He quietly took another sip, letting more and more wisps of memories drown out the cacophony occurring at the other end of the bar.

Firefly really would have loved it. 

The Express had some downtime while waiting for Mr. Yang and Acheron, so Caelus decided to wander back to a certain part of the Golden Hour.

Caelus weaved in and out of crowds oblivious to the crisis brewing beneath the surface of the dream, soon finding himself in the familiar passageway where he had first met Firefly for the first (second?) time. Swinging by the restaurant he knew was there, he picked up a a French fry sundae for March and a black coffee for Himeko.

But, most importantly, he picked up an oak cake roll to go.

Then, Caelus retraced his way toward the edge of the dream, stopping with a breath of relief when he spotted the same shade of misty teal he had seen earlier in the day.

He entered the clothing store and asked for the dress on display. It was a bit pricey, but it wasn’t like Caelus didn’t have the currency to spare.

“Must be a lucky girl to get a dress like this,” the store clerk said as she gently wrapped the silken garment in a package.

Caelus smiled as a scattered breeze of fleeting memories brushed against mind. 

Every single one of them were of sunsets. 

“I’m probably the lucky one. Trust me.”

The clerk grinned at him, “Then you’re a smart boy.”

With a confirmation that he would find the real deal delivered to his room, he bid the clerk farewell as he headed out into the eternal night.

Caelus didn’t know when he would see Firefly again, but when he did, he’d be ready.

“The architect’s flawed stone, of no value at all!”

Something about Aventurine’s statement made Caelus tick far more than the apparent betrayal of the shining Stoneheart in front of him.

What would this high and mighty coin-throwing IPC gambler know of worth? 

What would he know of the hardships, of the generations of sacrifices that this weapon represented?

What would he know of the flames that he now knew that this lance reminded him so much of?

Combined with this indignity, Caelus’ anger flared once again.

And this time, he let the Stellaron sing with it.

After some moments of comfortable silence, Caelus shifted.

“Cae?”

He didn’t respond immediately as his eye scanned around the memory zone they were in, quickly finding that he recognized where they were.

“Hey, ‘Fly,” he said slowly, “You still want to get drunk?”

Her sunset eyes widened, “You remember the list?”

“Yeah.”

A variety of emotions warred across her expression for several seconds. Then, against her better nature, her curiosity emerged victorious.

“One. Just one drink,” she said quietly, “That should be fine, right?”

…

One drink. Just one drink was all it took.

“I AM THE STELLARON HUNTER SAM!” Firefly shouted to the hotel room ceiling, a heady red blush coloring her normally pale complexion, “STEEL IS MY BODY AND FIRE IS MY BLOOD! I FACED THE JAWS OF TAYZZYRONTH AND LEFT NOTHING BUT SMOLDERING EMBERS IN MY WAKE! ”

True to his intuition, the memory zone depth lead straight to the Dreamjolt Hostelry. Luckily, it was empty so Caelus was able to quietly replicate two glasses of the Golden Hour Cosmopolitan Gallagher had made him earlier (he was a quick learner).

They found his empty hotel room in the dreamscape Reverie, shut the door, shared a toast, and then…

Well, he was right, Firefly had loved it. But he quickly realized about ten minutes later that maybe the Belobogdian Firewater was a bit much. 

“SO WHY DID IT TAKE ELEVEN TIMES!? ELEVEN TIMES GETTING INTERRUPTED LIKE A CLOWN TRYING TO GET TO YOU! IS MY TIME AND DIGNITY A JOKE TO YOU ELIO?!”

Firefly continued to wail, nearly sweeping her empty glass off the table in her fervor. Then she picked up a nearby book and threw it ineffectually against a wall.  

“I SWEAR THE NEXT TIME I SEE THAT TOP-HEAVY PURPLE CHICKEN, THE ONLY THING SHE’S GOING TO GET FROM ME IS MY FOOT! SCREW IT, I AM SKIPPING STRAIGHT TO SCORCHED EARTH!”

Caelus ducked to avoid another flying object. It was one of her shoes, he realized.

He knew she always had some level repressed anger, it was clear as day when she fought as SAM, but he didn’t know her rage was as thermic as her preferred weapon.

“AND SPEAKING OF CLOWNS, THAT LITTLE MASKED FOOL—

Caelus wrapped his arms tightly around the inebriated rampaging girl, dragging her kicking and screaming toward the bed before she lit the room on fire and let everyone and everything in the dream know they were here.

“Alright, I think its time to take a nap.”

“RELEASE ME, YOU HEATHEN! YOU TRAITOR!” 

Amidst her indignant cries, Caelus resolved to give her her dress at a later date, musing with a smile that it was for the good of the world that drunken fireflies could only be found in the land of dreams.

Chapter Text

It took a little while for Firefly to realize that Caelus’ stoic veneer was by design.

Looking back on it, it made a great deal of sense. From what the Hunters knew of Stellarons, they were manipulative and deceitful things, preying on the emotions and motives of those around it so that others could serve the Destruction’s wanton ends. 

So, with that in mind, the future receptacle was created with towering high walls in his mind, built to hold against any strong emotions that may aggravate the Cancer of All Worlds he would one day carry within him.

That wasn’t to say that his personality or his kindness was aversely affected by it. In fact, Firefly loved him truly for everything that he was and meant to be. But it still defined his mostly lovable, sometimes perplexing set of quirks.

His deadpan out-of-pocket goofiness always made Firefly smile.

His unreadable bouts of whimsy proved to Firefly that life could always be unpredictable.

His endless sense of curiosity made Firefly’s every day an adventure (which usually ended up in a good natured dumpster dive followed shortly by a SAM enforced shower). 

All of these things were the results of overcoming the emotional limitations set at his creation. And Firefly knew he was so much better for it because she too was intimately familiar with the idea of trying to flourish within the concept of limitation.

However, even though Firefly was more than content if Caelus remained a person who conveyed his feelings mostly through action, words, and the occasional rare (but wonderfully cherished) smile, there was one thing that always concerned her.

Caelus never expressed his anger.

Firefly knew the receptacle was capable of anger, even if she wasn’t quite sure what seemed to cause it. She had even seen the direct result of it multiple times, whether it was a slightly more vengeful application of mischief, a swing of his bat that was a tad more powerful than necessary, or even just the slightest twitch of his golden eyes.

And so she worried. Because once upon a time, she had experienced the same thing trying to hide such emotions from a still developing Caelus, repressing her rage against ELS, Glamoth, medical pods, and so on until her simmering emotional reservoir had given way to an explosion that had vaporized a rather good chunk of the Cyber Prison of Inupeis.

Instead of the fearful reproach that she had expected from the receptacle that had become her friend, that incident had just earned her the name Angy-Fly, complete with usual deadpan delivery. It was a name that even Kafka had picked up on much to her sheer, unadulterated horror.

(She didn’t try to hide anything from him after that, though.)

Her fears came true during an information exchange during one of their duo missions. It was at a little-known planet under siege from Fragmentum. As per Elio’s scripts, they had deduced that one of their steps involved finding the Stellaron’s whereabouts through a local mob boss’ underground network.

None of them were surprised when their already shady contact sought to betray them to earn favor with the IPC as soon as he figured out they were Stellaron Hunters, but neither of them thought that the thugs would be so brazen as to open fire on them via a drive-by car midway through the exchange.

Normally, Firefly would have been able to swiftly respond to the new threat, but she had not arrived to the darkly lit park within SAM as a sign of good albeit misplaced faith. She was also tired, having not recouped her lost energy from ELS in the frantic few days she and Caelus had been snooping place to place in an effort to keep a low profile. As such, her reaction speed was just slow enough that a stray hard-light bullet had grazed her upper arm.

A glowing bat was streaking through the night air before she could even hiss in pain and, in less than a minute, had succeeded in painting the surrounding grass a deep red.

Clutching her wound, the sight of such carnage was not what gave Firefly sudden pause; she herself often left more gruesome scenes in her wake.

It wasn’t even Caelus pressing the end of the bat harder and harder against the struggling mob boss’ chest.

No, she barely even registered the important stream of information frantically leaving the man’s mouth because her sunset eyes were frozen in place, staring in shock at the twisted sneer contorting Caelus’ face. 

A pit of dread opened up within Firefly when she realized that Caelus’ walls were no longer walls.

They were a dam. A dam that was apparently now very capable of breaking.

Still, there was no time to contemplate emotional outbursts mid-mission and SAM’s silver armor burned into existence across her form. This did not stop Firefly from concluding they all would have probably died then and there had Caelus had his Stellaron and she resolved to address the issue promptly as she rocketed to deliver Scorched Earth to the rest of their ill-fated assaulters.

One very large car explosion later, she returned to a Caelus who had largely calmed down to his usual state, though it was hard to ignore the freshly bludgeoned corpse he stood beside.

Her flames cast a hot red glow over his thoughtful expression as SAM deactivated.

“You were angry,” Firefly observed neutrally as her transformation faded.

“Yeah,” Caelus admitted flatly, “I was.”

Firefly quietly passed him a rag as she considered her next words. Silence settled as Caelus ran the cloth over his weapon.

“Do you know why?” Firefly ventured after a moment.

“I…” In a true rarity, Caelus trailed off and glanced away. 

“…don’t know,” he finished lamely.

Firefly crossed her arms; he had never been evasive before. At least with her.

“Well,” she said, “Finding out why is a good first step.”

“Step?” Caelus repeated.

“To proper anger management,” Firefly beamed, “We can’t have you going nuclear when you have that Stellaron, after all.”

Caelus blinked a few times, but quickly boarded Firefly’s train of thought. He scratched his head and averted his golden eyes.

“Sorry.”

Firefly sighed, then flashed him a brief smile, “Cae, it’s fine. If anything, I’m glad it happened now.”

With the location of the Stellaron now known to them, the rest of the mission was completed in less than a day. When they returned to their current safe house, Firefly shared some of the strategies she found helpful when venting her own anger.

As for his answer to her initial question, though, Caelus told Firefly he loved her two days later.

And she had never been happier.

Over the next hour, Caelus patiently listened as Firefly’s drunken diatribe steadily trickled down into a stream of incoherent rambles. Then it degenerated into quiet murmurs, before trailing off into inevitable, possibly self-mortified silence. In turn, the arm he had firmly locked around her waist gradually loosened up until she was comfortably lying against his side, legs tangled in a familiar position he definitely remembered she greatly preferred.

Despite being a magnitude calmer, Firefly continued to be incredibly adamant about not sleeping as a light fist periodically thumped against Caelus’ body in random places to keep the tendrils of drowsiness from completely dragging him under. Sometimes, she even pinched him.

With a mental shrug, Caelus figured there most have been a good reason. Firefly (at least in his memory) had never turned down a nap. Especially a cuddly nap.

An Off-Duty-Fly tended to be a Lazy-Fly, as he (apparently) used to say.

“I… really missed you, you know?”

His eyes snapped open at her startlingly brittle voice, finding sparkling sunsets peering into his gold.

With a soft sigh, Caelus silently charted another course to Firefly’s drunken trajectory as he turned onto his side, wrapping his other arm to affectionately embrace her. He gently guided her head against his chest and let the now crying warrior of Glamoth vent the last remaining dredges of her deep sorrow through quiet sobs and wet sniffles. 

Firefly dampened his shirt for another fifteen minutes before eventually settling down, her breathing slowly smoothing out into a steady rhythm.

A calloused hand idly combed through a mane of silver hair.

“Feeling a bit better?” Caelus ventured after a brief moment.

“Yes,” a slightly hoarse voice responded, “Thank you.”

With a slight smile steeped in empathy, Caelus wiped away a few stray tears near the edges of her puffy red eyes.

“I think we have a busy schedule today, Lazy-Fly.”

“I know,” she said. Then her delicate lips creased into a pout, “And don’t call me that.”

When the ghost of a smirk flickered across his face, Firefly knew her attempt to utilize his lingering amnesia to shake off that dreadful nickname had utterly failed.

They dragged themselves out of the bed. Firefly, with some measure of embarrassment, went to the retrieve her shoes from where she had flung them across the room as Caelus fetched his jacket.

“So, what now?” Caelus said over his shoulder.

“We need to find your Express friends,” Firefly said, “They fell into the Dreamscape Expanse with you.”

She felt her own blazer being draped over her shoulders and turned to see her other standing behind her.

“Do you know where they are?” Caelus asked as she helped her slip into the garment.

“No… not quite,” Firefly admitted a little bashfully, “Maybe if I had followed them in right after the Expanse opened up… but I got distracted.”

Caelus chuckled, but didn’t say anything. He had gotten distracted, too, after all.

“Did you figure something out?” Caelus asked.

“Oh… yeah!” Firefly said as he reminded her of what she actually wanted to talk about, “There’s an entire dreamscape beneath this one.”

As they continued getting ready, Firefly relayed to Caelus everything she had learned. From the true nature of the Meme of Death to how it served as the gateway to the Land of Exiles

“Closing your eyes?” Caelus said, “I’m guessing this is why you kept ‘hitting’ me?”

Firefly fidgeted with her hands, “Uh… yeah.”

It totally wasn’t because she was drunkenly checking he was still real. Yeah.

She was startled out of her thoughts when she found two gold eyes very close to her own. It took a second to realize that he was scrutinizing her.

There were certain tells with Firefly that Caelus were beginning to remember. One of those was spacing out, which either meant she was tired or she was thinking.

“Are you alright?” Caelus asked after a moment.

“I’m fine,” Firefly said, “I’m not hungover or anything.”

“Are you sure? It looks like something is bothering you,” Caelus continued to press, “Are you tired? When was the last time you really rested? In the real world?”

Firefly winced inwardly. In truth, there was something that was bothering her. Something that she wasn’t sure she should even share with the young man in front of her.

After a split-second mental argument, Firefly decided her next action with a sigh. Secrets did not become them.

“Elio told me I’d experience death three times during this mission.”

Firefly did not like the way Caelus eyes hardened. Or how they briefly started burning gold.

“What?” He muttered.

“You know him, it’s probably metaphorical,” Firefly hastily assured.

Caelus didn’t immediately respond, but Firefly immediately recognized his heavy breath as a steadying method she herself had taught him.

“You died once already,” he observed quietly. A bit too quietly.

The bladed wings of that memetic creature of death still glinted a bit too sharply in Caelus’ mind.

Firefly gently gripped his arm, “But I’m fine, right?” 

“For now.”

She winced, “Look, we can’t dwell on this. Elio also said that if we don’t act, the third death will come true in its most terrible form.”

Caelus’ intake of breath wasn’t sharp, but it was noticeable and that was equally as damning.

Firefly patiently watched as Caelus’ mind worked behind his eyes. Then, he immediately fetched his phone and started texting someone.

“Can you send a message to Elio?” He said suddenly, “There’s something I want to take care of.”

“Oh,” Firefly said, fetching her own phone from where it lay on a nearby table, “Uh, sure.”

She brought up her more encrypted messaging app and clicked on a contact with a cat emoji.

FF: Elio?

Firefly sighed when she got no response and her fingers tapped a different message.

FF: I’m requesting Meow2Meow authentication

Still no response. Firefly sighed again and tapped an addendum.

FF : :3

The response this time was immediate.

E : Coolio.

Firefly was about to type her request when another message popped up.

E: Ah. Wait.

E: I see.

E: No. It’s not part of the script.

E: But its really funny so I’ll get working on it.

E: Gimme 10.

E: And make sure to take a picture.

E: I love messing with Fools.

When Firefly realized she wasn’t going to get another response, she sent her final response. 

FF: Thanks.

Firefly felt a head looking over her shoulder. She adjusted her phone so Caelus could see.

“Yep, just like I remember,” Caelus said, “Now… you wanna get something to eat?”

Firefly raised an eyebrow, “Really? Now?”

Caelus’ mouth formed a slight frown. A frown Firefly knew was a parody of her own pouting expression.

“But I’m hungwy,” He said in complete deadpan.

Before Firefly could retort, his expression refocused, “Kidding. Kidding. But there’s someone I need to talk to. It shouldn’t take long.”

Firefly nodded, “Then lead on.”

They duo left the hotel room and slipped into the empty Reverie halls, looking for a point to access the Golden Hour.

“I just had an idea,” Caelus said abruptly after a moment, “Do you want me to ‘kill’ you right now? It should count for something…”

Firefly wanted to both sigh and laugh.

It was a feeling she had so dearly missed. 

They arrived at an empty diner, sitting down in a booth as an Intellitron came to serve them. Caelus ordered a pretty standard looking omelette and tater tots while Firefly indulged and ordered Chocolate Chip Oak Pancakes.

No sooner had they placed their orders when a blue-haired figure slid around to their table.

“Well if it isn’t my friend from the Astral Express!” Exclaimed none other than Sampo Koski, “Imagine my surprise when you messaged me!”

Caelus caught the perplexed looks Firefly shot him. His slight nod told her to save the questions for later.

“Sampo,” Caelus addressed neutrally, “I’m surprised you actually showed up.”

Sampo clutched his chest, “You wound me! You of all people should know the great Sampo Koski always settles his debts.”

He pulled up a chair from… somewhere and took a seat.

Sampo spread his arms in invitation, “So what can I do for you?”

“I want to know where I can find an associate of yours,” Caelus said immediately, “Girl. Twintails. Fox mask. Obviously a Fool.”

The conversation briefly paused as their server arrived with their food. Firefly thanked him while Caelus’ golden eyes never left Belobog’s Joker.

“It’s in bad taste to reveal another Fool’s secrets, y’know?” Sampo said, idly tapping his forehead, “Buuuuuuuuuuuut…”

Caelus tilted his head forward, “Get to the point.”

“You’re in luck!” Sampo said finally, “Because that fool has been somewhat of a… thorn in my side, let me say.”

“So you know where she is?” Caelus

Sampo’s hand snaked toward his plate, yoinking a tater tot. 

“Convenience fee!” He said as he popped it in his mouth.

“Sampo,” Caelus said, unimpressed.

“Right right right. Don’t get your britches in a twist,” Sampo said hastily, “Her name is Sparkle. There’s this bar she usually frequents. It’s where I’ve been meeting with her to discuss… business.”

A location was forwarded Caelus’ phone even though it didn’t seem like Sampo even touched his. 

“It ain’t a true Tavern so you should be able to find it,” Sampo said.

Caelus didn’t bother to stop the Fool from taking another ‘convenience fee’ as he checked his phone. It seemed mundane enough and didn’t reek of the scamster’s usual parlor tricks.

“So do I have another satisfied customer?” Asked Sampo after Caelus was done mentally dissecting the lead.

“Yeah, yeah. We’re even,” Caelus said.

Sampo reached for another tater tot. This time, however, a delicate hand swatted him away, accompanied with a pair of silent yet glowering sunsets.

The fool held his hands out in surrender, “Righty-O! Well, it seems like you two are in the middle of something steamy, so I’ll get out of your hair.”

A slightly flustered Firefly was about to say something in retort to his ‘steamy’ comment, but Sampo suddenly stood up. What he was sitting on vanished (or never existed in the first place), but Caelus knew better than to ask a Fool meaningless questions.

“With that, Sampo Koski makes his departure,” he said as he slunk away. Just as he was nearly out of earshot, he gave one last parting smirk.

“Happy hunting, Hunters.”

Caelus’ golden eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly as the red-coated figure finally disappeared. When he was gone for good, he let a quiet sigh escape his lips.

“Was that—?”

“The real Sampo Koski?” Caelus finished for Firefly, stabbing his omelet with his fork, “Yes.”

Seeing that the meal had begun, Firefly began drenching her pancakes in syrup, “How did you know the real one was on Penacony?”

Caelus finished chewing before he spoke again, “I didn’t really. But when Sparkle used his appearance as a disguise to trick us earlier, it had a Belobog National Museum button on the lapel. That was something that happened kinda recently, so I knew he had to have been around...”

Firefly’s brow furrowed, “You know you just made a deal with a Fool, right? Are you sure we’re not walking into just another wonderful surprise?”

“Sampo is one of those rare Fools with a something like a conscious,” Caelus said, “And besides, he owed me for bailing him out when he tried to pawn off museum artifacts.” 

“Ah,” Firefly said, briefly testing her pancakes for optimal sweetness, “I guess we’re going to find this Sparkle, then? And have a… ‘chat’?”

And by chat, she meant the Stellaron Hunter definition of a ‘chat.’

“Yup,” Caelus said, popping the P.

Caelus noticed her sunsets burn with flames for only a moment and knew immediately she was on board with the idea.

Well, he knew Drunken Firefly was on board with it from the get go, but it helped that Sober Firefly also gave her tacit if vindictive approval.

His musing was interrupted when he noticed her hand retreat from his own plate, two tater tots in tow.

“Girlfriend fee,” Firefly said with a sly smile. Caelus chuckled lightly and counterattacked by taking a forkful of her pancakes.

They ended up ordering extra tots.

In a stroke of luck, they found their quarry alone at the bar Sampo had lead them to. With a nod, the two began their approach.

Caelus took the seat to Sparkle’s left while Firefly took her right. When the bartender came to take their order, Caelus just tossed him a wad of credits.

The man leafed through the stack then sighed.

“Try not to break anything.”

He then left without another word, leaving the bar empty save for the duo and the Fool they were after.

“Well, well, well,” cooed the Fool, swirling her cocktail without turning to either of them, “What could you two ever want with little old me.”

“If this talk goes well, nothing at all,” Firefly said robotically.

“We’re just here to have a little chat,” Caelus said casually, reaching across the bar to pour himself a small glass of whiskey, “What results from this chat, well, that’s up to you.”

The clinking of an ice cube in a glass was the only sound for several long seconds. He took a sip and savored the taste.

“I will admit that thanks to you, my partner here was able to find a lead,” Caelus continued, “That is the only reason we’re having this little courtesy call.”

“Quite frankly, we don’t know what you want out of this whole… ordeal,” Firefly continued, “What we do know is that we have a job to do, and you currently present a… variable.”

Sparkle giggled, “That’s a funny way of saying a Fool.”

“Think of it as you will,” Caelus said stoically, his voice betraying nothing, “But, at the end of the day, we don’t like variables in our operations.”

An old adage of Kakfa that still rung true in Caelus’ head was that any variable left unchecked was a failure waiting to happen. It was one of the few pieces of advice even Firefly appreciated from the Pteugean Devil Hunter.

“Furthermore,” Firefly said, “We don’t like being tricked. Or being forcefully shoved into another plane of dreams without warning.”

Sparkle scoffed, “What type of performance would this be without a little bit of action or intrigue?”

She then finally turned to Caelus, a teasing little lilt at the edges of her eyes “Besides, aren’t you trailblazers the ones that always mouth off about how important the journey is?”

Caelus’ eyes narrowed. His grip tightened around his glass. 

“I am not here as a Trailblazer in any capacity.” 

At his declaration, Firefly’s sunsets widened very briefly before they steeled again.

The bells adorning her outfit jingled lightly as Sparkle giggled, “Wow… how forward, Mr. Stellaron.”

Caelus bit back a frown. There was only one person at this bar that could call him that and it definitely wasn’t the Fool.

“We want to make sure that any of your little plans aren’t going to affect ours,” Firefly continued, “And if they are, we’re giving you one chance to never act on them.”

Sparkle blew a raspberry, “And what if I don’t? What if I don’t heed your very empty threats.”

“I think you’d rather not make an enemy of us,” Caelus said simply, punctuating his sentence with another casual sip.

“You would make an enemy of the Elation?” Sparkle countered with a taunting eyebrow, “How bold of you.”

Caelus’ glass clacked onto the countertop with a little bit more force than before.

“Listen, I have spent the better portion of the year in a simulation where I encounter the Elation regularly,” Caelus muttered, “I have a rough idea of how Aha thinks and acts. Which means I have very good idea of how you think and act.”

Firefly tossed a folder full of documents they had printed before they had arrived at the bar. Sparkle opened it and her smile, which had been infuriatingly constant up until then, finally fell off her face as she rustled through the contents.

Caelus’ eyes gleamed gold.

“You’ll find that Destiny’s Slave is more than capable at delivering the one thing that all Fools fear more than death.”

Sparkle’s eyes glossed over what was a step by step description of her machinations; up to two years of amusement that had never left her mind laid bare on page after page.

Some of these plans she hadn’t told a single soul. Which meant that these documents could have only one source.

“As a sign of good faith, we haven’t looked at these,” Firefly informed her politely, “Only Elio knows what you plan to do here on Penacony.”

“We’re not here to ruin your fun,” said Caelus, “Just don’t interfere with ours.”

The butterflies in her eyes stilled as the papers crumpled in her grip.

“Nobody likes spoilers, you know?” spat the Fool, her earlier nonchalance replaced with nothing but vitriol.

“Reminder. They aren’t spoilers, not yet,” Caelus said with an unbothered shrug, “But yeah, don’t mess with us. Preferably ever again. Or you might find this plastered on every website from here to Sigonia.”

Silver Wolf was very good at doing things like that. She was also very willing to screw with someone who had crossed her teammates.

After a tense silence, a bitter sigh echoed across the bar as the folder snapped shut.

“Fine. Have it your way then,” Sparkle conceded, “I wasn’t planning to do anything overly… harmful anyway.”

“Good, I’m glad we could reach an understanding,” Firefly said, shifting off her barstool, “But, just in case you feel like retaliating, just remember—“

Sparkle turned to find two unfeeling suns blazing with hellfire so intense she could feel the heat from where she sat.

Firefly smiled. Except this one didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“If you cross us again, the only thing left of you that ‘sparkles’ will be the carbonized space dust I jettison off the edge of Penacony when I am done with you.” 

Caelus finished his drink and hopped off his seat, “Well, that’s about it. Thanks for the drink.”

And with that, the two strode out of the bar, leaving the Fool to her own devices as they quickly disappeared into the busy Penacony streets. 

When they were a ways away, Caelus let out a breath he had been holding since the beginning of that encounter.

“Well, how I’d do?” He said to the girl beside him, “It’s been a while since I’ve done something like that. Even with you giving me a refresher of Kafka’s basics.”

“Honestly? Probably even better than before,” Firefly admitted.

“Thanks,” Caelus said, “You know I don’t like doing things like that.”

“You and me both,” Firefly said as they continued walking.

Caelus tilted his head teasingly, “Are you sure about that? It looked like you were planning that last line for the entirety of that meeting. Not to mention you seemed pretty into it”

A creeping flush crawled up her neck as Firefly suddenly sputtered, “I… um… no…. I did not…?”

Caelus hummed to himself. Caught red-handed yet again.

After a moment, though, Firefly spoke again, “If you don’t mind me asking, why were you so dead set on putting that Fool in her place?”

Caelus let a sigh escape his stoic features, “Because I’m worried. About you.”

“Ah,” said Firefly. Then she said nothing more.

Caelus was proactively removing every potential threat on the stage of Penacony that could potentially enact the worst version of Elio’s prophecy. 

Abruptly, Firefly broke course and headed into a nearby alleyway, dragging Caelus by the arm with her.

“‘Fly? What’s wro-?”

His confusion was silenced when her lips met his.

When they parted for air several seconds later, Firefly smiled.

“I just realized I haven’t kissed you yet,” she admitted with a coy smile.

Caelus, however, knew better than that. She had wanted his attention.

And she had it. 100%

Firefly’s smile saddened, “You know that old saying? The one about fate and that you’re likely to meet it on your path to avoid it?’

“Yeah,” Caelus said, quickly beginning to grasp what she wanted to tell him.

“Well. Do you trust Elio?”

Caelus opened his mouth, but his words lingered unspoken in his throat.

Did he anymore? Destiny’s Slave was the reason he had been grasping at the straws of his past for the last year. And then, on top of that, he straight up said that the girl in front of him was going die not once but twice more before this whole fiasco was over.

Firefly read his response directly from his eyes. She changed her question.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Was his immediate response, “I’ve already told you.”

“Then put your faith in me that I’ll live to see the sunrise,” Firefly said, “Elio has never let any of us come to major harm before and he did say that we’d be greatly rewarded for this. I don’t think that award is my death.”

Firefly watched Caelus’s fist clench, then, thankfully, unclench.

“OK.”

Firefly cupped his face gently as she leaned in, “Thank you.”

They shared one last moment before they returned to the busy streets. After a moment, Caelus fished his phone out of his pocket and read the screen.

“Well, we can go meet up with the Express crew now,” Caelus said. 

“Wait, how did you find them?” Firefly asked, suddenly intrigued, “Was it some sort of Astral Express homing beacon? A blessing of the Trailblaze?”

“Uh… no,” Caelus said, flashing his phone which still had Welt’s response on the lock screen, “I just texted them.”

Firefly deflated a little, “O-oh.”

The duo made their way back to the lobby of the Dreamscape Reverie. The space was thankfully devoid any life except for the three Astral Express members that awaited them.

“Caelus!” March shouted as they approached, “Where have you been?”

Firefly suddenly felt the urge to hide behind Caelus when the pink-haired girl’s eyes lit up with recognition when they landed on her.

“And look at who you found,” Himeko observed, “No wonder we couldn’t reach you for a while.”

“I am glad to see that you are in good health, Ms. Firefly,” greeted Mr. Yang as the two reached the crew.

“Hi everyone,” Firefly said, admittedly a little lamely, “I’m sorry for giving you so much trouble.”

“Please, don’t mention it,” Himeko assured.

Firefly nodded, “How were you able to get out of the Dreamscape depths so smoothly? I had to physically catch Caelus and we were getting ready to come find you.”

“Oh, I have my ways,” Welt said, pushing his glasses up his nose. It was clear that that was all he was willing to divulge on the matter.

“I don’t remember seeing you at Aventurine’s… performance,” Himeko observed, “Were you watching the entire time?”

As Firefly readied a prepared excuse from her long list of alibis, she was interrupted by Caelus clearing his throat.

“Just so we’re all on the same page,” Caelus spoke up, “Yes, she’s my significant other. She’s also the Stellaron Hunter SAM.”

A pair of sunsets doubled in size.

“Cae!” Firefly hissed, fiercely driving a scandalized elbow into her boyfriend’s side. 

Caelus, as usual, just shrugged, “We don’t have time to dance around identities, ‘Fly.”

Welt and Himeko looked… completely unsurprised. March, however…

“A STELLARON HUNTER!? Your supposed soulmate is a STELLARON HUNTER!?”

As Firefly turned to Caelus and waited for an explanation for her chosen term of soulmate. Caelus himself waited patiently as the gears continued to churn in March’s head.

He could here the ding when March pointed a manicured finger at him.

“Wait. Are YOU a STELLARON HUNTER?!” 

“Was,” Caelus corrected swiftly, “I’ve… remembered a lot about my past in Penacony. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you the truth until right now. But I was still sorting it out myself. Still am, in fact.”

He then smiled, “But I am truly committed to walking the path of a Trailblazer.”

Firefly, too, smiled at his side, “Truthfully, I think it suits him a bit better.”

“But… but…” March suddenly turned to the senior members of the crew, who were looking at her in amusement, “How are you not surprised by this?”

“March, both of us came to the conclusion that Caelus was at least connected to the Stellaron Hunters when we found him on Herta’s station,” Welt explained, “In fact, it was Dan Heng that began vocalizing our collective thoughts on the matter when it became apparent that Kafka was a bit too familiar with him.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t notice that you hadn’t realized,” Himeko added, “But I think you were the only one that wasn’t quite aware of this.”

March opened her mouth, but then shut it when Welt shook his head. There would be time to untangle this mess later when Penacony was no longer in danger.

“Right, so,” Welt began, “Caelus here told me that you have some interesting information to share with us.”

Firefly began her lengthy explanation about the dream beneath the dream and the true role of the memetic entity heralded as ‘Death.’

“I see,” Himeko said, sharing a look with Welt who nodded in response, “Well, there’s only one thing to do.”

“We press forward,” Welt affirmed.

“Wait, are we seriously just trusting a Stellaron Hunter? Again?” March voiced aloud, “I mean, I get that she’s super important to Caelus but shouldn’t we talk about this just a little more?”

Just as Himeko was about to kindly explain to March that they didn’t have time to chase around any more fruitless leads, Caelus spoke up.

“March, do you trust me?”

“Um,” March stuttered, “Y-Yeah? As long you haven’t developed some evil Stellaron Hunter personality, that is.”

“Then, please, trust her,” Caelus said simply.

March bit her lip, but eventually nodded.

“So all we have to do is close our eyes?” Himeko asked.

“Yes,” Firefly answered, “I’ll guide us through the rest.”

“Fine,” March said with a huff, “But no funny business!”

There wasn’t really heat in her words as the girl squeezed her eyes shut. The rest of the Express followed suit.

Firefly turned to Caelus, “You too.”

“Will I see you on the other side?” He asked.

“I’m pretty sure,” she said, “But, just in case…”

She leaned into him. On auto-pilot, Caelus wrapped his arms around her.

“Now, eyes shut,” Firefly chided gently.

Caelus nodded. His grip tightened just slightly around her.

They closed their eyes. Together.

Caelus didn’t let her go when she walked them through the steps to prepare for the next leg of their journey. It was surprisingly simple, almost laughably so.

He didn’t let her go when he heard a shuddering growl. It was a creature he could not see but knew now by heart.

He didn’t let her go when she told him not to be afraid. He was still very afraid, but not for himself.

He didn’t let her go when when the being named Death stabbed them both through the heart, sending them spiraling into the dream beneath the dream.

Chapter Text

Fyrefly Squad Four has spotted the Swarm Mother.

Engagement in Rift Valley!

Requesting reinforcements!

Fyrefly Squad Two has lost signal!

I repeat, requesting reinforcements!

Confirmed, Fyrefly Squad Two is KIA! We’re losing ground!

What do you mean we’re ON OUR OWN!?

The frantic screams of radio frequencies assaulted his ears as Caelus’ eyes snapped open, quickly adjusting to the dim light of a blood red sky. Some terrible acrid smell made him nearly retch, the stench of burnt visera, char, and everything in between violently affronting his unprepared senses.

Then his eyes focused a little more upward and he stilled when he realized the sky was moving, bulging forth in a pattern of unsettling undulation.

The sky wasn’t a sky at all.

This was The Swarm. The true Swarm. Not some simulated figment or an ill-fated science experiment but a sea of voracious insects numbering so many that it blocked out the sun and sky and everything beyond.

A flash of of hot orange jolted him out of horrified awe, finding a familiar towering white figure hunched over a mountain of corpses. Wisps of evaporating hemolymph bled from its clenched hand as it closed around the crushed remains of another charred carapace with a sickening crunch.   

He was in a memoria. And it wasn’t hard to guess whose.

Several more stings rocketed toward the SAM he knew contained Firefly (and he just knew, there was no way he could not know). They flew forth angrily in disorienting formation, yet met their timely deaths by her quick flames all the same. 

Then a certain sting that glowed a warning orange that Caelus was alarmingly accustomed with collided into her with the force of a small vehicle, its ensuing explosive suicide sending the mech staggering backward.

This singular moment of hesitance, this single split second, was all that it took for three more stings to close in on their prey.

“Firefly!” Caelus shouted as his nonexistent hand went for his nonexistent bat on an instinct so ingrained in him it may as well been primal. Naturally, his call went unanswered.

He was only a member of the audience, after all.

What did answer, however, was another SAM, quickly ending the the winged threat that had come so close to ending Firefly’s life. The unnamed newcomer regarded her for a mere second.

“Eyes up, soldier! The target is straight ahead. Airspace is a no-go, we push forward on foot!” 

Caelus was surprised he could hear anything at all over the swarm, their trillions upon trillions of wings vibrating in scattered unison to produce the world-ending drone that shook the earth the very earth and heralded the end. Yet he could still hear her voice, bereft of her usual voice modifier as the girl responded with a single shaky yet determined word in the face of an order that was undoubtedly certain death.

“Affirmative!”

They were suddenly moving now. Caelus counted at least thirty white knights of Glamoth charging forth in ill-fated unison, their cascade of thermic discharges mere blinks of light in an all-consuming flood of chitin and sinew. 

That was until a thundering, low-pitched roar (though of such unnatural tone it could hardly even be called that) shook the earth and a hideous insect the size of Belobog crested the swarm-drowned horizon.

The Iron Cavalry kept running. Now straight to their deaths.

In his still hazy past, Caelus remembered that Firefly had told him of the stories of the valiant Calvary that had given their lives to stop the endless propagation. Back then, he had been enraptured of the idea of armored legions flying forth to combat endless spawn with fire and steel.

These were not those stories. 

This was hell.

The soldiers furthest up front met a renewed horde so fast and violent they were shredded instantly, turned into nothing but scrap and glowing green blood at the claws of a living blender.

25 remained.

Another squad of soldiers tried to push around from the flank. They were dead the moment the separated from the main pack.

17 remained.

A glowing Swarm King unleashed a bright blue star from above. Several knights flew to meet it head on. The premature detonation vaporized them instantly, but took the large beast with it.

9 remained.

There was no longer enough of a force to hold a line. One of the soldiers shouted something and two more knights flew upward, glowing a bright green as they soared into the infested air and arced toward the Swarm Mother. A tendril of the horde followed them, sealing their fate.

7 remained.

“That diversion will not last for long! Whoever is still alive, cover me! I’m going for the Swarm Mother!”

A deafening explosion roared over head as the two warriors self-detonated their cores, painting the battlefield in orange for only a brief moment as the rest of the Glamoth’s dying army rallied underneath the sacrificial flames. 

Caelus watched Firefly push herself into motion, only to be stopped by the soldier that had given her the order. He thrust a remote device into Firefly’s hand.

Firefly’s visor regarded the device unreadably, “What’s this?”

“Stay here. Activate it only when you see the signal.”

Then the soldier bolted off, armored strides carrying them swiftly into the countless open maws of Tayzzyronth.

It was clear the Calvary knew what the plan was as many of the remaining knights closed formation around this singular unit, some literally throwing themselves to their deaths to block lethal blows from oncoming stings.

Caelus watched as one by one their lights blinked out. By the time his fiery charge had closed the distance, the sole remainder rocketed off the ground alone. 

2 remained.

The soldier dodged a sting mid air with a thrust of flame, incinerating another with a quick blast just had descended upon the surface of the beast. 

Just as Caelus thought it was over, a jagged spike of chitin impaled the soldier through the midsection and through whatever remained of Caelus’ own desperate hope. He heard Firefly cry out in despair and his face twisted into a grimace.

Still, despite it all, the soldier clawed at its own faceplate, ripping the visor free and sending it tumbling downward in a mixture of sparks and green blood.

“Now commencing scorched earth operations…” the soldier yelled, voice unmasked in his death throes, “FOR HER MAJESTY!”

1 remained.

“F-for her Majesty!” Stammered the SAM that would one day be a Stellaron Hunter.

Her gauntleted hand clamped around the trigger. There was a flash of green and everything went white.

Caelus had expected the nightmarish memoria to end (and by the Aeons he wanted it to end). Alas, the blinding white expanse faded as the landscape bled back into view.

Or rather what was left of it.

A deafening silence choked the ash-filled air as Caelus could see nothing but scorched earth, an expanse of dead grey that stretched from horizon to horizon.

Firefly stood alone, bare and without her armor. Her body looked like a thin, storm worn tree just waiting to fall. She stood stock still as another survivor stumbled forward, falling to her knees at her feet as the unnamed girl gave one last cry of honor, one last misplaced affirmation of faith, to the name of Glamoth.

Caelus let out a violent, non-existent breath as he watched the only other sign of life for miles unceremoniously fizzle out, slumping over and leaving Firefly alone amidst a sea of ash and corpses.

For a moment there was nothing.

Then, it gave way to only a quiet stifled sob.

Why do we die? Why do we live? 

The brittle voice frayed at edges. It was smaller and frailer than Caelus had ever heard.

He knew Firefly could be sad. He knew she could annoyed, tired, and angry. 

He had never known she could sound defeated, and the cracking of her voice twisted his inside into knots. 

Why do we fight for a Glamoth that no longer exists?

Tears glistened down her face as Caelus himself went numb underneath the existential dread of a million burnt out corpses that laid in service to a tattered ruined flag swaying only with the dying winds of glorious, worthless purpose.

In the face of this utter desolation, this field of ashen annihilation, Firefly had lost everything. Her friends, her nation, her purpose, her identity, her very meaning.  

And yet, only one thing seared across the trailblazer’s thoughts.

Caelus remembered that in the years that he known her, he had only ever seen Firefly cry only a handful of times. Literally, he could count the instances on one hand.

But every single time she did, whether it was the time when he told her that his purpose was all he knew or the hour that they had finally reunited, it was never for for herself. 

Her tears was never for her own sickness. It wasn’t even for the fallen ashes of her comrades and her empire… 

It was always for him. Underserving and empty as he was, she cried for him.

A ray of sunshine peaked over the horizon, though any fleeting joy it could have brought was vastly overshadowed as it revealed scattered clouds of insects that dotted the morning sun and sky.

Caelus was about to hit himself to wake up when he heard Firefly’s voice once more.

I dreamed of a scorched earth…

The sole survivor of Rift Valley turned to face the sunrise, teary eyes sparkling as they reflected the new day’s sun. 

A new shoot sprouted from the earth…

Her silver armor began piecing itself together as something bright burst forth. Caelus couldn’t tell exactly what it was, or even if it was real, but it looked like a tree, branches lush and full of life climbing higher and higher as if it were desperate to scrape the sky. It was shocking, powerful and short-lived, almost reminding Caelus of one of THEIR gazes.

Far beneath, at the very center of its fire-licked roots, a girl completed her blazing metamorphosis.

It bloomed in the morning sun… and whispered to me…

Just before her visor clamped over her face once more, the trailblazer caught something that nearly took his breath away. Something he would remember for a long, long time.

Caelus saw a sunrise in her eyes.

Like fyreflies to a flame…

Pinions of triumphant green flared out of her armor, spreading wide and proud in defiance of fate as the lone soldier now known as Firefly made the first and last decision she had ever expected to take.

Caelus realized he wasn’t witnessing a memoria drenched in death and despair.

…Life begets death.

He was witnessing a memoria of rebirth.

Firefly soared into the sky, painting a proud streak of green against a pale blue sky as she laid the legacy of Glamoth to rest with one final spark of flame.

She left nothing but smoldering embers in her wake, spreading the noble ashes of the fallen far across the stars.

Firefly opened her eyes to blinding whites and grays, seeing nothing but snow and ice as far as she could see.

Which was, admittedly, not very far.

Her figured tensed readily, honed battle-instinct driving her darting sunset eyes to quickly take a split-second assessment of her surroundings. 

Firefly found herself amidst a snowstorm, standing atop a thick snow-covered sheet of ice. From what she could make out, she was audience to a meeting of several people in a clearing very very high up if the surrounding all-enclosing wall of clouds was anything to go by. Hoisted above them by some sort of old, rusted machine was what seemed to be a glowing, barely caged bright light.

She hardly needed Mecha’s systems to tell her that she was in the presence of a Stellaron.

She also realized she wasn’t freezing to death, which was really great considering how the cold could kill her twice as fast thanks to her ELS. The girl kicked the snow, confirming to herself that she was indeed in a memoria when the front of her shoe left the packed snow completely undisturbed. Despite this, she felt no compelling reason to let her guard down.

Turning her eye to the group gathered in this frozen hell scape, she quickly spotted the familiar figures of the Astral Express alongside a few others she didn’t quite recognize. They stood with weapons drawn, turned against a single blonde-haired woman with a severe expression as frosty as their surroundings. 

Firefly quickly spotted Caelus, the only possible owner of this memoria of the past, standing with his ready bat in hand. He looked as he did any other day, aside from one deeply troubling difference.

His golden eyes were dull.

Firefly barely had time to contemplate this as a hand rimed with frost extended outward from what she assumed was their opponent. Apparently she had entered this memoria mid-confrontation. 

“And you… will become the foundation of the new world.”

It took only those few, unsteady words from the blonde woman, words clearly steeped deep in overblown grandeur, for Firefly to realize she was probably delusional. Recalling the report she had read on the Belobog Stellaron Incident, this was most likely Cocolia Rand judging from her appearance alone.

But wasn’t the deceased Supreme Guardian a hero? Why was she fighting the Astral Express, let alone the current Supreme Guardian Bronya Rand?

She had no time to think as the rumbling developed into a full force tremor, the motley crew barely able to keep their footing on the sleek ice sheet.

“You must break the old to build the new!” The guardian declared, pure frost pulling together to form a familiar looking lance made of sharpened ice instead of amber. 

“Rise, Engine of Creation!” 

The air echoed with the groaning of ancient metal, the peak quaking violently as something crawled upward from below in answer to the Supreme Guardian’s summons. 

A gargantuan mechanical arm rose from the depth of the canyon, its large, building-size fist slamming down onto the platform. Chunks of ice and snow pelted down on an Astral Express crew that barely managed to scramble away from a very flattened fate.

The clouds gave way to reveal a the looming, skyscraper sized figure of the Engine of Creation. Ruby red optics gleamed, piercing the icy fog with a beacon that promised mechanical wrath.

It was probably… one the coolest things Firefly had ever seen.

Frozen creatures of the Fragmentum pulled themselves free from the snow. The Astral Express answered in kind, but Firefly maintained a steady gaze on her trailblazer specifically.

His bat’s movements were quick and precise, a perfect compliment to his fellow spear-wielder’s disciplined martial arts. Still, she couldn’t help but feel like his swings felt empty. Like they lacked something.

It was almost as if he was just going through the motions.

“Raze them to oblivion!”

The titan’s optics blazed red as a spear of light lanced into the mountain, vaporizing a large surface of the platform as ice frozen for hundreds of years turned instantly to hot steam.

Apparently this thing shot lasers from its eyes. And Caelus didn’t tell her about it? 

By the Aeons and the Empress’ good graces, Firefly wanted one.

Her admiration quickly melted into concern as the Engine of Creation reared its arm up. Much, much higher than before,

However, right as the hulking fist reached its zenith, a bright bolt descended from the heavens. The soldier that would always be a part of Firefly instantly recognized it as a remarkable pinpoint shot, hitting the large mecha right between the armored plates of its shoulder. Even the most impressive of Glammoth’s orbital rail-cannons couldn’t hit a shot like that, not without being very danger close, at least. 

The titan sparked and groaned as it fell, shaking the earth once more as it collapsed forward onto the platform.

The group exchanged a brief few words with someone on the other end of a communicator that Firefly didn’t really catch. Then, Caelus took off running.

Firefly bit back a small smile. It seemed the proactive part of him certainly never changed, with or without memories.

With long strides, Caelus weaved between monsters as his teammates assisted him in any way possible. Bronya and March providing him cover fire while the girl with a scythe and the man that must have been Dan Heng provided him with much needed footholds as the Engine of Creation shuddered back online. Their tag-team nearly reminded her of how the Stellaron Hunters worked on full-team missions.

In no time at all, Caelus managed to make it to Cocolia just as the mechanical titan righted itself, stepping onto the platform bat already drawn. He rose to his feet, ready to fight—

A spear of ice impaled him through the chest.

Despite knowing this was a memoria, despite knowing this was in the past, despite knowing the real Caelus was safe and sound and currently wrapped in her arms as they descended into the Dreamflux Reef…

Firefly screamed. 

She couldn’t help it, not at the sight of her Caelus tumbling limply into the yawning chasm below with ice piercing through his heart. Had this been real, had she had actually been there, everything and everyone around her would have been turned to ash as she taught the world of Jarilo-V what it truly meant to burn.

But here, her voice only echoed unheard among the snowy peaks as the world faded away.

Suddenly, almost abruptly, Firefly found herself among the cosmos, a vast expanse of stars that stretched infinitely in all directions yet centered on a bright spiral of light where an amber lance stood solidly embedded seemingly in nothing. 

It was beautiful, yet also sobering in its grand scale.

When she regained a bit more of her bearings, Firefly found Caelus was standing in front of a small girl. Yet the sounds that came from her small lips could not possibly be from a child, let alone anything natural.

“You are but a stranger to us,” whispered a chorus of hundreds of voices, “And yet you seek to bond your destiny to ours?”

Caelus nodded.

“Why?”

Firefly watched Caelus blink. His eyes widened like he had been struck.

I don’t… know why.

It took a moment for Firefly to realize that she was hearing Caelus’ thoughts.

Why did that woman put a Stellaron inside of me?

Why did I get on that train?

Why am I risking my life for these people that I hardly know?

His voice, still quiet and measured, sounded far too detached. Almost like it had been when they had first met all those years ago. 

Unlike then, however, now he sounded more… lost. Aimless.

Why am I… even here?

With that single piercing question, it suddenly occurred to Firefly that Caelus looked like he was going through the motions because he was going through the motions.

And he was going through the motions because that was all he could bring himself to do. It was all he could do.

Something inside Firefly shuddered so violently it almost brought her to her knees.

When they had first met, Caelus only had a purpose and nothing else.

His actions, from his words to his bat swings, felt empty because now they lacked even that.

Was she so steeped in her own misery, so wrapped up in her own torment that she had forgotten how the script would have affected him?

How it felt to wake up on a space station, seemingly abandoned alone and without purpose. 

How it felt to be thrust into the hands of strangers just because he had been told to.

How it felt to find oneself, only to lose it all again.

And he had gone to face that fate with a smile. If only to ease her own suffering.

In the midst of her tumoil, an answer rang out over the stars.

“I don’t know why and I may never know why,” Caelus said, “But even so, the only direction is forward.”

The child shook her head.

“So be it,” she said, almost resigned, “What is there to lose when so much has already been lost?”

The child probably had little idea how much that statement echoed Caelus’ thoughts. Regardless, she stepped aside, pointing toward the lance Firefly knew he now wielded,

“Touch the light of the amber, trailblazer. See if you can attract their gaze.”

True to his words, Caelus stepped forward without another word. Toward the lance that bore the will of the Preservation.

He slowly reached out, his hand only touching the handle when a whirlwind of flame billowed forth from the jeweled weapon and sent him staggering backwards

Not out of fear or pain, but out of surprise. 

I remember… this flame.

Firefly stared in awe as his hand reached once more, this time with only unfaltering confidence. 

Of course this was the first thing he would remember, the one thing that Caelus would always know, always remember because it was more a part of him than any Aeon’s Gaze or Stellaron could be.

Even if he didn’t know why, he knew…

Fire will never hurt me. Fire will never fail me.

A burgeoning feeling swelled up Firefly’s chest that made her want to cry for another reason entirely.

Even if he didn’t remember her, even devoid of everything that made him him, he would always remember her flame. Her warmth.

His fingers tightly around the lance. The clang of a hammer against an anvil rang throughout the cosmos as jolt ran up his arm and into his body. Flames licked at his skin, fully bathing his figure as he pulled the lance free and sent both himself and his impromptu observer careening back into the snow-whites of the waking world with the parting gaze of the lithic Aeon.

“No, it can’t be!?” Echoed a shrill voice over the howling winds. Firefly saw the iceborne creature that used to be a guardian narrowly dodge a fist from the titan that no longer obeyed her will. 

Caelus landed safely on the hand of the Engine of Creation, still burning brightly with flame. His fellow trailblazers ran to meet him and his head turned to greet them.

When Firefly saw his face, she smiled.

His eyes blazed bright gold as his lips creased upward in a smirk. Turning back to Cocolia, he thrust the Lance of Preservation high in the air.

“With this flame, I will set this eternal winter ablaze!”

With that final echo of the past, the memoria began to fade. That was fine with Firefly.

Because when Caelus smiled like that, she knew she didn’t need to see the end to know that everything turned out alright.

Caelus didn’t quite wake with a start, but he still jolted back to the realm of consciousness palms clammy and slightly out of breath.

The ground he laid on was cold against his slightly trembling hand as he pushed himself up, the blurry shapes in his vision gradually taking form until he realized he was in a dark alleyway.

He took a second to steady himself, to assure himself that insects weren’t going to tear him apart from the sky. A second later, he heard a few sets of footsteps approaching him.

“Caelus!”

Golden eyes whipped to the girl he had just witnessed destroy a planet. Her sunset eyes were furrowed with concern. Mr. Yang and March were following close behind her.

“Firefly,” he greeted a little weakly, “I’m fine.”

Firefly frowned as she knelt down, “Cae, what’s wrong?”

Caelus waved her off, “Nothing.”

Her frown deepened.

“You’re sweaty and pale and it looks like you’ve seen a ghost. You’re also shaking and you never shake,” Firefly listed out dryly, “Please don’t lie to me, Cae.”

His lips pursed slightly, stilled by a moment of hesitance, before he finally spoke.

“…You never told me that Deathstar Overload was literal.”

Firefly drew a sharp intake of breath, his words sparking an instant realization of what he had witnessed.

Without warning or prompting, Firefly’s leaned forward as her arms encircled his torso, drawing him into the warmest embrace she could possibly provide.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered

Welt, seeing this sudden development, hastily pulled March (who was staring just a bit too intently) back toward the entrance of the alley.

“Let’s go find Himeko.”

March’s protests of it was ‘just getting good’ fell on deaf ears as the older man forced a retreat to allow the couple some privacy.

Caelus leaned into her and simply breathed, using her heartbeat and the smell of her vanilla-scented perfume to ground him in the here and now. They remained like that for an entire minute until Caelus gently pulled himself away. 

“Why are you apologizing?” He asked quietly, averting his eyes to a discarded can of Soul-Glad that lie nearby, “I… didn’t live through it.” 

Her hands rose to cup his face, guiding his eyes to her own. Her lips formed a sad smile against her face.

“Because that was not a burden I ever wanted you to bear.”

Caelus pressed his head against hers like they always did. Her hands fell, but they were quickly caught in his own.

“Your stories… they weren’t like that.”

Firefly read the unspoken question laced in his observation with ease, despite how little she wanted to answer it.

Caelus felt the skin around her eyes tighten. He felt her heavy breath against his neck as she sighed, dipping into memories she had long since buried.

“I didn’t want us to be remembered like that,” Firefly said simply, “I didn’t want us to be known as nameless, faceless soldiers discarded on a barren planet and left to die. I wanted us to be heroes…”

“You were heroes,” he affirmed, nearly interrupting her with a voice so quick it was frantic by his standards, “Even if Glamoth is dead and gone… you were heroes. Nothing but a hero can run face first into a hell like that.”

They separated only slightly, letting Caelus search Firefly’s clouded eyes with his own.

“People look up to the Cavalry. They speak of you in the same way some speak about the Express,” he said softly, almost fondly, “I look up to the Cavalry, and that will never change even if I am a little bit biased.”

Firefly let out a wet sniffle, wiping her nose with her sleeve.

“Geez,” she murmured, “You really now how to make a girl cry.”

“Only you, apparently,” Caelus answered, wiping an ebbing tear from the edge of her eye. 

They sat there, alone in the middle of dark alleyway and half on top of each other, for another minute as they both reached a far more reasonable emotional level.

“Is that really why you say those things?” Caelus said after a moment, “Scorched earth and all that?”

Firefly nodded, “I mean, I like to… but every time I do, I feel like I can keep just a small piece of them alive.”

Caelus smiled, “I’m certain they’d be proud.”

She let out another wet sniffle, “I hope so.”

Then his smile suddenly turned a bit a lopsided as he chuckled, “What about that Swarm Disaster cartoon the IPC started. You think they’d be proud about that? Apparently March is a fan.”

Firefly snorted, “Oh please, please, please don’t bring that up. Wolfie bothers me enough about it as is.”

Caelus finally rose to his feet, offering his hand to Firefly and helping her to her feet. She didn’t let go of his grasp even when she was upright, rather tightening her grip with a gentle squeeze.

“We’ve probably kept the others waiting,” she said a little absently.

With a nod from her partner, the couple started to make their way down the alley and toward the dim light of the city that lay head.

“You’re amazing, you know?” Caelus said unprompted, “How you keep living on despite… all of that.”

Firefly just shook her head, meeting his golden with sunsets that still glittered.

“I found out that living is quite easy, actually, when you have something precious to live for.”

She didn’t need to specify, Caelus knew better.

“I’m guessing you had a dream about me?” Caelus ventured after a moment.

“Yes,” she said, “About Belobog.”

“Ah, yeah. Big robot? Angry blonde madwoman?”

Firefly’s lips creased into a pout and Caelus knew they were going to be alright. For now, at least.

“Yes. The big robot. With laser vision. The one you never told me about.”

He smiled sheepishly at her accusatory glare, “Sorry. Been a bit busy, as you can see.”

“And the fancy lance?” She continued, her lips tugging upwards in the slyest amount of mirth, “Setting the winter ablaze? I didn’t know I made such an impression on you.”

 Caelus laughed. An odd sound to be echoing through the desolate alleyway.

“I guess some things are just too important for even me to forget.”

He didn’t get verbal response. Instead, Firefly suddenly arrested him before they exited the alleyway into the street, pushing him against the wall as she captured his lips in a sudden but certainly not unwelcome kiss.

Unfortunately, it was very short-lived as Firefly yelped when the abrupt white flash of a camera lit up the dark surroundings. They whipped around in unison to a familiar pink-haired girl standing at the entrance of the alley, one arm on her hip and the other holding a camera.

“Geez, you guys!” March muttered, lowering the very damning device she had used to get their attention to reveal a unamused frown, “We’re all out here gathering clues and you two are making out?”

Caelus just shook his head as Firefly’s face began heating up so much that she may as well been close to achieving Complete Combustion.

Their impromptu paparazzi didn’t even wait for their response, simply stomping off while yelling about ‘public decency’ and ‘time and place.’

Firefly fidgeted with the hem of her dress, “Is she… always like that?”

Caelus just shrugged, accepting that he was likely getting blackmailed into dish duty for the next week when they got back to the Astral Express, “You get used to her. She’s a good egg, I promise.”

Firefly didn’t look quite too convinced as she swallowed the rest of her blush and walked out of the alley, pulling Caelus with her into the dreary yet somehow cozy atmosphere of the Dreamflux Reef.

Her hand not once left his own.

Chapter Text

Dreamflux Reef was… interesting.

It still felt like the dream, but it was bereft of all the bright, sometimes gaudy spectacle that he had automatically come to associate with the gilded world of Penacony.

Dreamflux Reef just felt, for lack of a better term, like a city. Complete with all of the grimy, unembellished trappings of urban life. 

It was sobering, but certainly not unwelcome.

A soft neon glow from the inviting sign of a diner bathed the couple in electric blue as they walked past, following in the direction that March was headed. The chime of a doorbell captured Caelus’ attention as he watched another couple file quietly into the restaurant.

His steps slowed as the welcoming jingle dislodged a tangle of fragmented memories. Fleeting images of bright lights, sunsets, and quite a few cakes.

Caelus’ expression tightened.

How many cities had they visited on their ‘adventures’? How many diners had they ducked into? How many neon signs had they past by hand in hand?

How many memories had vanished forever just because a script had told them that was the way it had to be.

“Cae?”

Caelus blinked, startled out of his thoughts when he realized he had stopped moving altogether. Firefly was looking at him, her eyes reflecting more twilight in the neon glow as concern lingered at the edge of her features.

“I’m fine,” he said a little stiffly, “I’m just remembering some things.” 

Firefly’s lips parted briefly, but closed as she shelved her concerned words for a different approach.

“Remembering what?” She asked, pulling them back into motion with a quick squeeze of his hand.

Caelus fell back into step with her, “Did we eat at a diner once? I remember it was really high up, but I can’t remember whether we we were on a date or were… uh… trying to evade the police.”

Her sunsets flashed with recognition.

“That was Pier Point, and it was both, actually,” Firefly said with a light giggle, “We had the night off since Wolfie and Kafka had to scrub you off the IPCs wanted lists again. You couldn’t sit still and I wanted something to eat so we snuck out when Blade was asleep.”

Caelus paused as her words threaded the memories back into place in the tapestry of his mind, “Kafka yelled at us for that one, didn’t she?”

Firefly let our a soft chuckle in affirmation, “The cake was worth it, though.”

The couple spent the entire rest of their walk in quiet exchange, Caelus revealing what holes in his memory he could recall while Firefly helped to fill them in.

By the time they finally reached Welt and March again, both of their eyes were bright.

Caelus with simple relief that the one he loved could guide him back to the rest of himself.

Firefly with joy that the one she loved was not gone but buried, and that she could be the shovel for however long it took to unearth every precious gem they had ever shared together.

“Is everything alright?” Welt asked as the two approached.

“They’re perfectly fine,” March said a bit too loudly before either could respond, “Trust me.”

“Well then, that’s good to hear,” the older man said with a nod, “March, you go ahead and find Himeko. I’ll bring Caelus and Miss Firefly up to speed before we meet up in the Trade District.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Yang,” March said, sending one more slightly peeved glance at the couple, “Don’t get ‘lost’ again, alright?”

Firefly’s cheeks simmered just a little as the Express photographer skipped off, leaving both of them alone with Welt Yang.

When she was out of earshot, Welt sighed, “She wasn’t bothering you, was she?”

Caelus shrugged, “Nothing really undeserved, I guess.”

“Good, I suppose,” Welt said, “Now, let’s to get to business.”

Apparently the trip to Dreamflux Reef had been a bit turbulent, to say the least. All of the Express members had been separated during the journey and it had taken quite a bit of time to locate each other. As such, they had been asking the local populace about the current situation during their search.

By the time the Express had finally located Caelus, two hours had come and gone. Meaning a lot of the investigative legwork that they had come here to do had already been more or less done.

Caelus grimaced. No wonder March was a bit grumpy.

“We’re currently at a stand still until we find Miss Robin, but we have a few leads. We also need a way to contact Gallagher.”

“Gallagher… you mean bartender Gallagher?” Caelus clarified.

“Yes,” Welt confirmed, “Apparently he’s quite well-known here. Which is telling for multiple reasons.”

“I can help with that,” Firefly said quickly.

Caelus tilted his head in slight surprise,“You know Gallagher?”

“Yes,” Firefly said, “We met shortly after I first arrived here in Dreamflux Reef.”

Caelus blinked, “Wait, that means—“

“I asked him to make sure you were alright earlier when I couldn’t reach you as easily,” Firefly said, confirming his budding suspicion, “I think he felt bad since he indirectly made you think I was dead.”

Well, that explained the free drink.

Welt suddenly cleared his throat, “I don’t mean to interrupt…”

“Ah. Right. Sorry,” Firefly said, “Why don’t I go find Gallagher and you two finish up investigations on your side? I promise it shouldn’t take long.”

“That sounds like a good idea, Miss Firefly,” Welt said, “It should save us some time, if Caelus here is alright with it.”

Caelus glanced at Firefly, who met his slightly reluctant gaze with a firm nod.

“Sounds good,” Caelus said as he loosened his grip on Firefly’s hand. Though the girl gave him one more gentle squeeze before separating.

“Alright, I’ll send Caelus a message when I find him,” Firefly said as she began walking off, “See you two later.”

Caelus watched her figure disappear into the dark dreamscape streets until he could no longer see her.

“Don’t worry,” Welt said, “She’ll be fine.”

Not according to the script. But Caelus kept his mouth shut as he focused back to the task at hand.

“Well, Mr. Yang, now what?”

“Before we go find the others, but first there’s someone we need to talk to,” Welt explained, “Let’s go, I’m sure you’ve already noticed him.”

Caelus raised an eyebrow, “What? The blonde pepeshi in a trash can?”

Welt’s brow furrowed in confusion, wrinkling more than usual before he craned his head around to see that there was, indeed, one of Penacony’s shorter bodied species standing stock still in a humble trashcan.

“Huh,” Welt observed dryly, “But no. I meant him.”

Caelus light smirk told the older man he didn’t need to specify. He knew well enough who he was referring to the first time.

The meeting with the blue bellboy Mischa and his little animated companion Clockie was telling enough, confirming nearly all of their theories about the Reef, murder, and the memory zone meme. All things Caelus already either knew through Firefly or his own intuition, but the direction to Robin was well worth it.

Though one thing did make Caelus raise an eyebrow.

“Sleepie? Really?”

“No idea,” said Welt, “Another question for Mr. Gallagher, I suppose.”

From there they saw the memoria accretion disk and learned about Madam Razalina before once again bumping into a panicking pepeshi and March, who hadn’t made it very far from there previous meeting.

Caelus put down the creatures of the dream that attacked them due to the pepeshi’s breakdown with a single bat swing each before they continued on their journey.

“So, Mr. Stellaron Hunter, where did your soulmate go?” March asked as they headed to find Aunt Jessie, “I didn’t scare her off with my feminine wiles, did I?”

Caelus snorted, “You? Feminine wiles? In your dreams. She just went to find Gallagher.”

March grinned, “Good, she better be tougher than that if she’s dating you.”

A variety of things flashed behind Caelus’ eyes as he smiled, “You have no idea.”

To his surprise, March’s grin faltered just a little, causing his own to fall straight off his face.

“March?” He asked, “Something wrong?”

Her grinned returned with an uneasy chuckle, though this time it was notably a bit forced, “Nope. Nothing. Sorry, zoned out for a bit.”

Caelus highly doubted that, so he took a page out of Firefly’s book of communication advice.

“March,” he repeated, “Did I do something to make you upset?”

Caelus watched as March’s expression became a bit conflicted.

“No not really, I mean maybe? It’s just…” 

March bit back a sigh, fidgeting with the strap of her camera.

“Am I a really bad person if I don’t exactly feel happy for you right now?”

Caelus blinked at her confession. 

“Are you jealous of Firefly?”

March’s slightly guilty expression opened up in mortification.

“NO NO NO!” March stammered with frantic waves of her hand, attracting a few onlookers from her slight outburst, “I an NOT jealous of your girlfriend! Not at all, you two are, like, a perfect couple.”

Caelus let her calm down for a second before she continued.

“It’s just that, y‘know, I’ve been trying to find out as much as can about my past. And then you come to Penacony and you, well…”

Caelus understood. And he couldn’t help but feel a little horrible when he did.

March wasn’t jealous of Firefly, she was jealous of what Firefly represented.

His past.

And for March, that was just another constant reminder of the one thing that seemed to elude at every single turn. Just one more thorn on the vines that kept her own past forever unreachable to her.

“I’m sorry,” Caelus said, mostly because he couldn’t really think of anything else to say to his once fellow amnesiac.

March rolled her eyes, “Don’t be. I just need to get over it. And I will, I promise.”

The girl then marched ahead, clearly signaling that this conversation was over.

Caelus wanted to say something, but let the matter lie.

The trip to Aunt Jessie’s went quickly and from there the trailblazers found Himeko with Micah, the Gravekeeper of Dreamflux Reef, and then eventually Robin herself. 

All of these meetings just served to confirm that the Sweet Dream was collapsing.

Soon after, they found themselves at the graves of Razalina and Tiernan, two of the trailblzers that had come to Asdana’s aid in its time of need.

“True to the title of Trailblazer, they spent their lives venturing into the unknown,” Himeko observed at the end of Micah’s tale, “But… what about this tablet? There are no names carved on it.”

A familiar, gruff voice answered.

“When Dreamflux Reef was created, its owner was still alive. However, he insisted on erecting a monument for himself, saying that ‘it will happen someday.’”

He turned to find Gallagher approaching, but more importantly…

“I told you it wouldn’t take long, Cae,” Firefly said, a smile gracing her features as she rejoined his side. 

Caelus returned it, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding up until now.

Gallagher then took over for Micah as Robin ran to meet her brother Sunday, who had also arrived with the mysterious mixologist.

“In Asdana, the Planet of Festivities itself is a Stellaron disaster.”

Caelus and Firefly shared a somewhat resigned look. They didn’t have to be Stellaron Hunters, current or former, to see that one coming. 

By the end of Gallagher’s story, the Express had come to understand the full gravity of the situation, the nature of Gallagher’s invitation, and their purpose there as Trailblazers. They even had support from the two Halovians from the Oak Family.

“For the paradise in our dreams,” Robin had pledged.

Her brother nodded simply, “Indeed… for the paradise in our dreams.”

Caelus couldn’t help but notice that there was something hiding behind the small, painfully reserved smile that didn’t even near the Oak Family head’s eyes. By the way Welt’s glasses tilted slightly at the man, he had noticed it to.

Perhaps Robin had faith in her brother, but he didn’t trust this Sunday. Not as far as he could throw him off the side of the Golden Hour.

From there a plan was made. Welt would go with Sunday and Robin to confront the Dreammaster, mostly because of Sunday more than the Dreammaster. Despite March’s protests, Caelus realized that Welt had a familiar air of nonchalance when he talked about Gopher Wood. It almost reminded him of how Kafka used to refer to larger threats as if they were of no concern at all.

For some reason, Caelus doubted the older man was bluffing, so he let Welt go without much fuss of his own.

Gallagher then lead the rest of them to meet the Watchmaker.

Firefly let out a surprised yelp, falling into Caelus’ arms as the buildings rose to meet the kaleidoscopic moonlight cast by the sweet dream.

“It’s beautiful,” Firefly whispered as they came to a standstill.

“Thinking about a new secret base?” Caelus asked quietly.

Her eyes laughed, “Maybe…”

After they had found the Watchmaker’s Legacy, and then helped Misha lead them to the real Watchmaker’s Legacy, there was only one thing left to do before they left for Scorchsland to enact the next stage of their plan. 

“I thought you two troublemakers had already left,” Gallagher said, idly flicking his lighter as Caelus and Firefly approached.

“We just wanted to say thanks for the drink,” Caelus said, “You were right, she really did enjoy it.”

Firefly blushed a little (she was never going to live that down, wasn’t she?), but nodded in gratitude as well.

The follower of the Enigmata just waved them off.

“Think nothing of it,” Gallagher assured, “Just a little apology for the whole misunderstanding with Sleepie and all.”

He then leveled a curious eye at the both of them, “But a Stellaron Hunter and a Trailblazer? That’s not a pair you see everyday. Thought you two had it out for each other.”

“I used to be a Hunter,” Caelus said.

“And it’s complicated,” Firefly added.

Gallagher let out a sardonic chuckle, “I’m a follower of the Enigmata. Complicated is my middle name, miss.”

He shook his head, “That aside, it doesn’t look like you two are just here to say goodbye…”

Neither of them bothered to defend themselves, so they just jump, hopped, and skipped straight to point.

“You said that virtual characters serve a purpose,” Caelus started, “And once they serve that purpose, they disappear?”

Gallagher shook his head, “You really don’t have to remind me, kid.”

Caelus looked at the embellished hat that still lay in his very reverent grasp. The last parting gift of the Watchmaker known as Mikhail Char Legwork.

With a tentative breath, he placed it on his head for the first time.

The moment he did so, Caelus felt everything around him suddenly sharpen as a chill ran up and down his spine. It was almost as if the fog of a dream was instantly lifted, details and images coming into focus for the first time. He also felt something in the Stellaron within him stir in response, the trembling whispers he usually heard falling silent as it connected with this new presence.

This was a mere fragment of the Mikhail Char Legwork’s Trailblazing Will. 

“Gallagher,” Caelus said, eyes brimming with a different current of gold. One that did not speak of the harsh light of Destruction or the flames of Preservation.

But of Dreams. Of Harmony.

Caelus cleared his throat.

“As the inheritor to the Watchmaker’s Legacy, I am offering to alter the terms of your service to the dream and its people on behalf of the Watchmaker.” 

Gallagher’s head tilted in interest, “…Go on.”

Caelus exchanged a brief glance with Firefly, who flashed him a quick smile to proceed.

“I charge you, should you accept it, with helping to fulfill Mikhail Char Legwork’s original dream, to establish a world that he and his fellow trailblazers would be proud of and seeing it through until you are well and satisfied.” 

Caelus offered his hand. Gallagher stared at it for a brief second.

“Well, when you offer a man the choice of dying or not dying, what the heck do you expect him to say?”

Gallagher’s large hand took Caelus’ and shook it firmly. Caelus let the tendrils of the Stellaron seep into him for just a moment as it answered to his one request. 

If the Cancer of All Worlds could sustain a sweet dream full of millions, surely it could help prolong the life of a single man.

After a moment, the light in his eyes receded and he let go of the older man’s hand.

Caelus removed the hat on his head as Firefly leaned in expectantly. 

“So, um, do you feel any different?” Firefly probed gently.

“No, not really,” Gallagher admitted, “Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe that’s a bad thing. But I’m used to not knowing things, so no foul.”

Then the bartender then raised an eyebrow, “Though what was with the dramatic grand speech bit? Were you trying to sound like Mikhail or something?”

“Uh… maybe?” Caelus said, “Firefly thought it would help or something.”

“Authenticity is important. I thought it was pretty good,” Firefly said approvingly with a sagely nod.

Well, it was anything but authentic. Mikhail would have died with laughter as Gallagher just shook his head, “Kids.”

“Hey,” Caelus pouted like a child, “We’re adults you know. You literally served me alcohol.”

“Well, not compared to me you aren’t,” Gallagher barked back lightly, “Now scram, don’t you have something a bit more important to do than worry about this old dog?”

Caelus and Firefly nodded as they made to leave. Before they did so, though, they heard Gallagher’s gruff voice one last time.

“Hey, thanks.”

Caelus looked back with one last parting grin, “Consider it your tip. For the drink”

Gallagher just tsked, looking back at the hand the bearer of the Stellaron had shook as the two disappeared from view.

He then let out a whistle.

“If I’m getting tips like these, maybe I should cover for Siobhan a little more often.”

If the Dreamflux Reef was quiet, somber, and contemplative, The SoulGlad Festivity Auditions were anything but.

Nothing but bright, flashing lights and screens moving to the beat of obnoxiously loud booming music assaulted Caelus as they entered the venue. It was such a whiplash in mood that it took more than a few minutes for him to adjust.

They had been standing for not more than three minutes when they suddenly inundated with reporters and cameras, all vying for a prime scoop of the famous trailblazers that had come to audition for the Festival. Eventually, they had attracted so much attention that Mr. Aideen, the founder of SoulGlad himself, had come to greet them in person.

When asked for introductions, Firefly gently slid behind Caelus as Himeko went first. It was nothing too obvious to give anything away to the prying cameras, but he could still feel her discomfort.

So he did what he did best, puffed up his chest, and shouted.

“Hello everyone! The great galactic baseballer Caelus is here!”

March 7th recognized his intent and fell into step immediately. 

“And I’m March 7th,” she introduced just as bolstersouly, “An ordinary girl who enjoys adventures!”

Firefly gave a small wave as most of the cameras were still focused on the other two Nameless, “Hi there, I’m Firefly.”

Mr. Aideen gave them the basic rundown and then they were ready to go.

Given their numbers and the shortness of time, Himeko had decided that they would pair off. Even more naturally, Caelus went with Firefly as Himeko dragged March off with little more than a parting wink.

March stuck her tongue out at them as they left, “Don’t get distracted, you two!”

To her credit, Firefly didn’t blush nearly as much at her needling as last time.

“Well, guess it’s just us,” Caelus said, stretching his arms over his head, “Just like old times.”

Firefly had smiled warmly. A smile that lasted for approximately fourteen seconds, melting straight off her face when she realized what the auditions were comprised of.

Three trials. Two of their own choosing. All televised live all across the universal extranet. No sooner had they been given an explanation did another large camera suddenly find itself shoved in her faces.

Caelus, as usual, took it all in stride, meeting all of the questions with easy jokes and cheesy one-liners.

Firefly, meanwhile, just stared on in slight wonder and at how Caelus had become so charismatic. Maybe it was because he was never given the chance as a Stellaron Hunter, but it was such a far cry from the dispassionate man he had once been that she couldn’t help but feel content, if a bit proud.

They were given the choice between a School of Acting and a School of Action. Firefly would rather throw herself into the black hole of Nihility than act in front of a camera, so naturally Caelus answered her pleading sunsets with mercy and chose the path that allowed them do what they both knew they were really, really good at.

Beating the ever-loving shit out of things.

Caelus helped Firefly as they shakily hopped out of the light-speed pin ball that delivered them to the first stage as a text pinged his phone.

“March and Himeko are already making good pace,” reported Caelus.

“Then we better get moving,” responded Firefly swiftly.

A representative was there to explain the first challenge. When he finished, an idea struck Caelus.

He put his hands on his hips, projecting just a bit of confidence, “Only three waves? I bet we can take all of them at once.”

The representative laughed. Then his laughter faltered when he realized that Caelus wasn’t joking around.

“Wait. You’re serious. All three waves? At the same time? And just the two of you?!”

Caelus’ grin flared before Firefly could stop him, “We’re the Nameless! We eat challenges like this for breakfast!”

The representative took a step back to make a quick phone call. Firefly leaned next to his ear.

“I would hit you, if I didn’t know you were doing this for the sake of time.”

“Really, ‘Fly?” Caelus whispered back, “These are small fry.”

“I know. But safety first.”

The representative returned, “Well, it seems that Mr. Aideen has seen your fiery spirit and has agreed to the modification. Please allow us a moment to prepare the stage for your battle.”

Caelus watched in slight fascination as a team of on-deck dreamweavers quickly filed onto set and began merging the three separate stages into one, much larger stage. He felt the hat in still had hidden in digital storage resonate slightly with the familiar energy

As soon as the platform was finished, the two were eagerly ushered onto stage. A bat wordlessly appeared in Caelus’ hand as a glowing teal sword of energy appeared in Firefly’s.

“Can you still use your fire without SAM in this dream?” Caelus asked, voice low.

In response, fleeting tongues of hot orange flickered up Firefly’s arms and legs.

“That’s an affirmative,” Firefly said, notably tonelessly.

“Already in Hunter mode, huh?” Caelus said, his expression also rapidly hardening in a similar manner, “Roger that, then.”

  Two pairs of eyes, one gold one sunset, scanned the opponents that lumbered into the arena.

Eleven SoulGlad automatons gathered across from. Four lotto-bots. Four dogs. One gorilla. Two dinosaurs.

As the speakers blared an overly contrived and likely rushed backstory, Caelus and Firefly paid it no need as they exchanged a confident glance. 

Easy.

A loud air horn bellowed across the arena and the small horde of robots thundered forth.

Two Stellaron Hunters charged forth to meet them.

The hounds were naturally the fastest combatants on the opposing side, closing the distance remarkably quickly on four legs.

Caelus summoned his fiery lance to his offhand midway through their sprint, using its flame to rocket himself into the air as Firefly blasted off the ground with a quick burst of her own flame. 

They descended in unison as twin meteors, landing with an explosion that rocked the platform and enveloped the two challengers in the preserving flame of Magma Will. The two centermost hounds that didn’t leap away in time were immediately reduced to molten slag, not even given the chance to self-destruct like they usually did.

Firefly moved swiftly, her blade a teal flash as she engaged the hound that had dodged to the right. Caelus quickly left his lance implanted in the arena floor as he jabbed the last remaining hound that leapt at his throat with the knob of his bat. He followed swiftly with a downward strike that streaked blue across its head, shattering the headcase into pieces as the robot began to glow and convulse. Caelus quickly kicked the headless body across the arena before it could detonate.

Caelus heard a voice cleanly over the ensuring SoulGlad explosion.

“Fastball!”

On well trained instinct bordering on pure muscle memory, Caelus’ two hands found his bat well before he turned to face Firefly, finding the already glowing now limbless mechanical corpse of her own opponent being flung at him with all of her genetically enhanced super-soldier strength.

Gleaming golden eyes quickly found a target and he swung for the stands. His bat left a sparking trail of energy through the air as a sharp crack shot loudly across the stadium. 

The hound turned explosive projectile collided with the group of lottery machine automatons, exploding and taking the rest of the chaff with it.

In less than ten seconds, eleven automatons had been cut down to three.

Caelus eyed his lance and frowned. It was still slightly dull from his explosive opener.

“Double Play: Scorcher,” Caelus decided aloud as the three larger mechanical beasts finally closed in on them.

Firefly’s sword wordlessly flew in his direction in response. He caught it with ease and slammed his own weapon against the blade. He ground the sword against his bat’s glowing surface, sending a shower of sparks flying in the air until it ignited into a billowing torch of hot blue. 

Caelus tossed Firefly her sword, spun his bat twice in flourish, then raised his now flaming weapon high above his head with two hands.

He swung into the ground with all his might, cracking the floor beneath and sending jets of of blue fire sprawling forth from fissures that jagged across the arena floor.

The mechanical gorilla halted in its tracks as it was forced to take the brunt of the attack with its shield. One of the dinosaurs instantly overheated and exploded, but the other managed to power through and continue its wild charge. It swung its body around, whipping its flaming tail out to lash them.

Firefly dodged low, falling to her knees to avoid being swept by the physical tail. The flames passed harmlessly over her body thanks to Caelus’ shield and her own innate Fire resistance as she cut the appendage clean off, her glowing blade carving a searing teal arc through the metal like paper.  

Caelus was already rearing back with his bat when the Dino’s large maw spun around to him due to momentum, A two handed strike to its chin sent its head reeling high into the sky. Without its tail to balance it, it fell flat onto its back as Firefly leapt off the ground in another streak of fire, driving her sword into its chest to finish it off for good just as their last simian opponent recovered from Caelus’ Double Play.

The duo dodged two thrown explosive bottles of SoulGlad as the gorilla let out a tinny roar. Caelus’s hand found his now glowing lance, tearing it from the ground and leaping aside just as the gorilla slammed its large metal fists down on where he stood. 

With it distracted, Firefly leapt on its hunched back, two quick slashes slicing free its mounted cooler of SoulGlad and sending it crashing to the floor. The gorilla roared in response, arcing its back violently to dislodge its unwelcome boarder only for the girl to expertly somersault off into the air with her free hand, slashing it clean across the optics as she disembarked.

As Firefly hit the ground, Caelus left it, flaming lance already reared back and poised for a leaping strike. 

He impaled the blind, disarmed, and flailing automaton clean through, a gout of flame and amber tearing through metal and electronics. Then he took one step back, silently prayed an apology to Supreme Guardian Alisa Rand, and pulled his bat back one more time.

Caelus swung for the hilt of the weapon, a shock reverberating through his joints as he sent the the lance all the way through and flying into the other end of the stadium as a fiery line of angry orange flame.

The gorilla, now with a gaping hole through its midsection, fell forward lifelessly. Both breathing heavily, Caelus and Firefly watched as the timer stopped as soon as their last opponent crumpled to the ground.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WE HAVE AN INCREDIBLE NEW RECORD OF FORTY SECONDS!” A loud announcer bellowed across the stadium, “GIVE IT UP FOR THE NAMELESS CAELUS AND FIREFLY!”  

“Those leaping lance moves… look a bit familiar,” Firefly observed between slightly labored breaths, “Do I need to copyright… my style?”

Caelus flashed her a knowing grin as he dismissed his bat, “Learned from the best... That’s all.”

Firefly just shook her head, her sword disappearing as she gestured with a jerk of her shoulder to the still smoldering lance in the wall.

“Do you have a name for that finishing move yet?”

“Nope… just came up with it.”

Caelus could just see the thought bubble working in her head.

“Line Driver.”

“Good one,” Caelus said as celebratory confetti began falling on them. Firefly frowned in displeasure as it got into her hair. 

Once they had regained their breath, they rushed to the second challenge and thankfully it was a lot more low-key. They chose the option of gunfire, partly because Firefly’s eyes lit up at the word gun.

Taking control of Hanu together was a little strange, but all was well when they got their hands on the cartoon character’s famous bazooka.

“This thing feels just like the Soaring Locust II,” Firefly commented, sunsets sparkling with excitement as she made the animated caricature of Hanu send another rocket flying at a bunch of dreamjolt robots.

Caelus raised an eyebrow, “Soaring Locust II?”

Firefly looked absolutely scandalized, “It’s a Iron Calvary Anti-Tank weapon. Ground to ground missile. You’ve really never heard of it?”

And so, Caelus had the pleasure of listening to all the reasons why the Soaring Locust II was superior to the Soaring Locust III all the way until the end of the challenge. She was still talking about the thing when they boarded the cart to the third challenge.

Caelus just smiled. At least he knew what to get her for her birthday this year.

The third and final challenge was, surprisingly, Argenti. Caelus quickly greeted the Knight of Beauty, though they quickly engaged in conversation.

“That’s right. This magnificent dream is built upon the Stellaron and the countless sacrifices of many people,” Firefly explained quickly. 

Argenti thumbed his chin in thought, “Oh? To encounter deeds so vile they stir one’s very soul…”

And so they took turns explaining, as fast as they could, all that had transpired in and beneath the sweet dream. Caelus watched Argenti’s face become further and further troubled.

Eventually, Argenti held out his hand for them to stop, “It’s clear to me now. Evidently, you are traveling in pursuit of the Beauty’s ideals.”

They received the knight’s graces with gratitude and quickly hurried ahead.

“You know, Argenti was really nice and all… but we could have probably saved more time fighting him,” Firefly pointed out, “Not that endorsing unneeded violence. It’s just that he was a little…”

“Verbose?” Caelus offered, “Yeah, he’s like that. Did you know he carved his way out of a Giant Sting?”

The look on Firefly’s face told him that Argenti’s evaluation had just skyrocketed up a couple hundred ranks.

Caelus chuckled, “Story for later. Let’s go.”

They found March and Himeko waiting for them.

“Very impressive, you two,” Himeko congratulated, “You make quite a team.”

“You guys really don’t hold back, do you?” March said, hand on her hips, “We thought we set the record, and then you guys had to go and hog all the glory.”

Despite her accusation, March was smiling.

Caelus shrugged with a grin, “We’re Stellaron Hunters. We don’t know how to hold back.”

Unsurprisingly, at the end of the Path of the Superstar, they found the head of the Oak Family waiting for them.

“Called it,” Caelus whispered sharply to his companions as they approached. All it earned him was a slightly exasperated smile from Firefly and an unamused glare from March.

Even more unsurprisingly, it seemed that Sunday had turned on them.

Caelus had been more than willing to draw his lance and start trailblazing a path right through Mr. Wingding Hulahoop’s sternum the moment he had casually tried to coerce their cooperation using Welt’s and Robin’s lives.

“Cae.”

A hand from both Firefly and Himeko on each of his shoulders temporarily stayed his retribution.

And so they had humored him and played his little mind game, answering questions with no real right answer (as even Caelus knew that questions pertaining to moral philosophy never had two answers) until Sunday finally just gave up and explained his well-meaning if a bit self-aggrandizing plan right in front of him.

Sunday wanted to turn Penacony into an endless paradise of order, bereft of both suffering and choice. He thought it was the only path forward for all those within Penacony and beyond.

Caelus disagreed.

He very much didn’t want an endless calendar of Sundays. He rather liked his Taco Tuesdays and Friday Happy Hours.

Firefly, similarly, told him to stuff it.

“But unlike you, I live for the self,” she said, “From my perspective, individuals making choices for themselves is their birthright.”

Even though her words were polite and measured, Caelus watched her sunsets blaze with indignation, no doubt from the priest’s efforts to weaponize her ELS to sway her to his cause.

He smiled inwardly, the rest of Sunday’s explanation falling deaf to his ears as he was reminded why he fell in love with those eyes.

Any good feelings he had, however, evaporated into smoke along with the rest of his dwindling goodwill as soon as Sunday dared implied that Firefly was weak.

She was anything but, and his bat would be more than happy to prove that.

At Himeko’s behest, Caelus took a deep breath and gave his little pre-rehearsed, Firefly-vetted speech about how the Trailblaze would never yield to Order, donning Mikhail’s hat as he gave the Watchmaker’s final answer.

“The Penacony in Mikhail’s dreams does not belong to Order.”

What was not rehearsed, however, was Xipe The Harmony dropping in to give THEIR little two cents. The triple-faced gaze of the Aeon of Harmony burned bright across the cosmos, THEIR visage searing itself across the minds of everyone present as the Aeon made THEIR attention known.

Caelus had an inkling when he sensed the Harmony earlier, but there was no question now. He had just earned his third gaze.

“I can’t believe that Aeon would cast a glance at Penacony at a time like this…” Sunday muttered darkly, “Is it because of the resonance from the legacy of the Trailblaze?”

The Halovian trailed off, his gaze lingering between Caelus and Firefly for a moment too long, “Or perhaps the bond between you is so strong that it even impresses an Aeon.”

She was pretty sure he was referring to the Express in general, but Firefly couldn’t help but fidget under his ever piercing gaze. Caelus himself seemed outwardly unmoved.

The insulation was perhaps a bit of an exaggeration in both cases, but Xipe was the Aeon of Harmony, after all. 

And in Harmony, they definitely were.

“Well, there might be another possibility,” Himeko interjected, “Perhaps THEY want to witness, on behalf of the fallen Aeons, who will hold the future of Penacony.”

Sunday fell silent for once, his eyes drifting over each member of the Express as he made his final decision.

“If that’s the case, on behalf of the Dreammaster of Penacony and the 107,336 members of the Oak Family, I’m extending a formal invitation to all of you…”

He spread his arms out warmly, yet Caelus felt anything but invited.

“I’m cordially inviting you all to the Penacony Grand Theater to participate in the upcoming Charmony Festival. And of course, you won’t be in the audience, but on center stage.”

Caelus frowned. He was getting tired of all of this… stalling.

“Since the future of the Stellaron, Penacony, and even the entire Cosmos is at stake, let’s draw a conclusion… in all fairness.”

Something within Caelus snapped. And everyone but Sunday noticed it.

“Drawing a conclusion? In fairness? I’m sorry, but cut the shit, that time has long past.”

His weapons suddenly appeared in each of his hands, startling all present.

One the bat of a trailblazer that strived to seize his own destiny.

One the lance of a world that strived to face the darkness hand in hand.

Both were living testaments to the will of humanity to live, to choose the path that they would walk on their own two legs. Both resonated strongly with the legacy that now sat proudly atop his head.

“No, Mr. Sunday,” Caelus said, his level voice steadily growing until it was a roar, “I think I’m done playing games.”

Maybe in another world, where he had a lot less to lose and a lot fewer of the memories he had as one of Destiny Slave’s chosen, The Traiblazer would have entertained the thought of a grand duel to decide the fate of Penacony a lot more readily. 

This, however, was not that world.

Caelus’ eyes hardened into pools of cold gold. To the rest of trailblazers, it was strikingly unsettling, but to Firefly it was oh so familiar.

His eyes were like Kafka’s; Like Blade’s and Silver Wolf’s and even her own on some very hard days.

They were the eyes of a Stellaron Hunter that was here to do what they needed to do, no matter the cost. 

Be it for the Script. Be it for the Trailblaze. Be it for Penacony.

Be it for the firefly that carried his heart.

I’m sorry, Robin.

His lance raised high, kicking up wisps of flame as its sharpened amber tip pointed straight at the Halovian’s neck.

“For the millions in Penacony whose choice you seek to usurp, for the trailblazers that left their dying wishes etched in a legacy that should be eternal, and for the girl that dreamt of scorched earth…”

Golden eyes flared. The second Stellaron on Penacony began to sing. 

“I’m going to kill you.”

And Caelus lunged forward.

Chapter Text

As the flames of Preservation scorched across the venue floor, a cry of shock echoed from the Six-Phased Archer of the Astral Express.  

“Caelus, wait!”

In truth, Firefly knew Caelus’ intent for a pre-meditated attack well before any sound left March’s vocal cords. She knew the moment his eyes flickered with unyielding steel that Sunday’s remaining time on this mortal coil could be probably numbered in minutes.

In fact, she shared this aggressive intent. It was just that her boyfriend beat her to the punch.

Just as she thumbed SAM’s activation device, however, she watched Caelus’ lance pass harmlessly through Sunday’s neck, finding no purchase whatsoever as the trailblazer skidded to a fiery halt a few paces away.

“My, no hesitation. So eager, it seems,” Sunday said calmly, hands still clasped behind his back as he turned to face the man that had tried to take his life, “Befittingly bold for the Trailblazer who once walked the path of the Hunter.”

Firefly watched Caelus’ tensed form sag, blowing out the remainder of his flickering flames with a resigned sigh. His two weapons disappeared into digital space in a flash of fragmented light.

“We can’t harm you here, can we?” He observed neutrally, “Not in this inner world.”

“That would be correct,” Sunday answered smartly, “At this moment, I am already well on my way to the grand theater. A little bit of risk management that I am sure you understand.” 

His form began to shimmer, fluctuating like a mirage, “Ah, it seems I am about nearing the limit of my ability to keep a connection to your consciousness.”

The same polite smile that Firefly just knew irked Caelus as much as it irked her graced his immaculate winged features one more time.

He spread out his arms in faux invitation as his figure became nothing more than a hazy silhouette against the studio lights.

“If you truly believe in Akivili’s path, then show me THEIR courage and determination.”

And with that, he was gone. A jolt passed through all that was present and suddenly they were once more standing at the entrance to very real and now very empty audition venue. 

Immediately, March 7th whirled at Caelus, “Why the heck did you do that!? You were going to murder him!”

Caelus responded with a shrug, “The man just unilaterally declared war on us. I’m not taking that sitting down.”

“And what about Robin? What would we have to say if we told her we just killed her brother.”

At that, The corners of Caelus’ expression twinged minutely, though it was really only noticeable to Firefly.

“She will either understand… or she won’t,” Firefly answered for him, “Though Ms. Robin really seemed like the type of person to see the big picture.”

“But… but we can’t just kill him…”

“March,” Himeko said. Her voice was calm and motherly, but it also had a bit of harder edge to it. An edge that very much mirrored Caelus’, “I understand your concerns, and on many levels I do share them with you… but—”

“He’s giving us a chance to do this ‘in all fairness,’ ” March interrupted Himeko, her attempted impression of Sunday falling a bit flat given her current discomfort, “Is there really a reason to go that far?” 

The Navigator’s gaze wandered over Firefly before focusing on Caelus.

“Sunday’s invitation was not an invitation. It’s a ploy to get us to confront him on his own terms, on his turf, and with his own Stellaron to back him,” Himeko explained, “It was a hard choice, but Caelus’ decision was tactically sound and, quite frankly, worth a shot if it meant we could avoid a far more destructive outcome.”

“Sunday is clever,” Firefly said with a nod, “Who knows how much he’s orchestrated up until this point? And he’s even already removed Mr. Yang and Ms. Robin from the board.”

“Then why didn’t he just attack us here and now, too?” March countered.

Himeko thumbed her chin, “Sunday seems deeply committed to his own philosophy and genuinely wants to prove that the Order is right. Maybe he won’t accept the outcome unless he wins fair and square?”

Caelus scoffed as he crossed his arms, “Well, he’s already thrown that out the window given his preemptive attack against Mr. Yang and Robin. Arrogant maybe, but fair? Nah, not a chance”

A long sigh escaped March’s lips.

“I mean… I get that,” March conceded, “But still… just straight-up charging him like that leaves an awful taste in my mouth.”

“Like I said, it’s a hard choice. And hard choices tend to be bitter on the tongue,” Himeko continued with a nod, “I myself will probably need a sweeter blend of coffee when I return to the Express.”

Caelus reigned in a joke about the edibility of Himeko’s coffee, instead simply nodding with the Navigator’s words.

Himeko’s amber eyes sharpened. Not a whole lot, but still enough to know that whatever she said next was likely to the her final word on the matter.

“But, March, this is about trailblazing a bright future for Penacony and fulfilling Mikhail’s and his predecessors’ long-cherished wishes,” she said, “Given what is at stake, we can’t afford to fail them.”

March frowned as she threw out one more, almost desperate question, “Well… what would Mr. Yang do?”

Himeko lips tugged upward into a somber smile.

“Had Welt been here, Mr. Sunday would be contemplating his life’s choices sitting at the bottom of a black hole well before Caelus drew the Lance of Preservation.”

March opened her mouth, but left it hung open for a few seconds as she contemplated that the older man would have probably done just that given his explicit skepticism of the Oak Family head. 

So instead, she conceded her defeat, stuffed her lingering discomfort away for another rainy day, and muttered, “Alright, I get it. But still, I don’t know why everyone’s so worried.”

A partial current of her usual zeal resurfaced as March flashed a confident smirk, “We’ve dealt with a Lord Ravager before. A follower of the Order can’t be a big deal.”

Caelus, Firefly, and Himeko shared a quick look. Each of them silently asking each other who was going to pop March’s bubble yet again.

“It’s… not just the one follower of the Order,” Firefly explained slowly, “It’s one follower of the Order, the entire Oak Family… and the cultivated collective consciousness of the Planet of Festivities that gave birth to the Order’s sweet dream to being with.”

“In other words,” Caelus finished for her, “The will of an entire planet,” 

There was another shared wince when March’s smile instantly disintegrated, completely vaporized by Caelus’ and Firefly’s shared thermic weapon of an observation.

“…I think I’m beginning to understand why Caelus tried turning Sunday into a chicken skewer now.”

“A barbecue chicken skewer,” Caelus corrected with a sage nod, “Actually, does anyone want barbecue after this? I’m kinda hungry.”

The Astral Express members shook their heads as Firefly stifled a giggle, “Cae.”

“Alright, alright,” Caelus placated, “Back to the point, how do we want to do this?”

“Like you said, the nature of the enemy makes this confrontation too complicated to face head on,” Firefly said. 

Her eyes darted to Caelus for a just moment, a brief hesitance before she continued.

“To secure Penacony’s future… fighting on that stage alone will probably not be enough.”

The minute lines of humor still lining Caelus’ face from his previous jape evaporated until all that was left was a painfully familiar stony gaze.

“Are you not coming with us?” Caelus asked so slowly his words bled into outright reluctance.

Firefly fidgeted with a lock of her silver hair, answering with a near inaudible, “…no.”

For a second, Firefly winced as Caelus’ expression became nigh unreadable. Then the baseballer let out a sigh as he turned to the other members of the Astral Express.

“Can you give us a moment?”

Himeko nodded wordlessly and gently guided March to the other end of the stage.

By the time he turned back to face her, Firefly could trace each of his furrowed thoughts with the burning embers of her own fears.

“Caelus, I—“

“It’s the script, isn’t it?” He interrupted softly, his voice level but painfully resigned.

Her silent nod spoke a million words.

Caelus’ lips flattened.

The script. It was always the script.

“Then… is this your second death?” He asked quietly.

“I’m positive,” Firefly said.

“And you can’t tell me more than that?”

She shook her head and Caelus let out a noise that fell between a heavy sigh and a bitter scoff. His golden eyes narrowed by a slight margin.

“Why do I get the feeling that I hated the script when I was a Hunter?” 

“You despised it,” Firefly confirmed, “It drove Elio insane.”

“Good,” came a clipped response.

“Look, I understand what I have to do,” Firefly attempted to placate despite her own deep trepidation, “Please, don’t worry—“

“We’re about to go fight a wannabe-messsiah backed up by an ancient, entrenched Stellaron while you fly off to your ‘death’ for a second time with a third apparently on the way,” Caelus snapped quietly, “Telling me not to worry is not going to make me worry a single cent less.”

A single second of silence that seemed stretch far longer fell between them.

Firefly’s lips parted in slight shock as Caelus’ immediately averted his guilt-gnawed eyes. Before he could apologize, however, a pair of smaller hands clasped around his own.

“Caelus, do you trust me?”

Firefly could almost see the Stellaron churning a storm behind the flickering golden surface of his eyes. Eventually, he leaned in, their hair mixing at the fringes as she felt the warmth of a heavy breath against lick against her skin.

“I got you back, I lost you, then I got you back again…” Caelus said, wavering slightly at the word ‘lost’. His voice, normally so unshakable, was so strained it brought Firefly momentary pause.

Over the past few days, she had seen so many sides of Caelus that she had never seen before.

A Caelus shining bright with unbridled rage.

A Caelus lost without purpose amidst ice and snow.

A Caelus so charmingly charismatic under a spotlight that he could have been an entirely different person.

Now, staring into his steep pools of gold, she could add another to that list, 

A Caelus that was so desperate it shook the flames burning eternally at her very core.

Though his fragile sentence trailed off, Firefly didn’t need him to finish to understand his unspoken plea.

I can’t lose you again.

Firefly’s sunsets glittered as brought their hands up to her chest, almost as if they were in prayer.

“Hey, Cae?”

For her sake, he had smiled when he had gone to face the void.

“Yeah?”

So, for his sake, she would smile, too.

“Tomorrow, let’s watch the sunrise.”

When Caelus’ expression widened slightly, she put on the brightest smile same could muster.

“Like we used to. Together.”

Despite every part of him screaming to damn it all, to fight tooth and nail against a script that had already taken so much from him, the clamoring fear that raked his heart fell silent against a faith colored softly with blue, pink and white.

It was a promise and not a goodbye. There would be no more goodbyes between them.

Caelus could live with that, so he took a deep breath…

…And he let go.

“I… dreamed of a scorched earth…”

Twin sunsets startled slightly at hearing her personal mantra exit so suddenly from Caelus’ mouth, but Firefly quickly realized the phrase for what it was.

It was a send-off; his personal confidence that they would meet again and watch the sun rise over the morrow’s morning.

“A new shoot sprouted from the earth…” she continued. Tongues of flame billowed upwards from her feet and washing over her body and onto the trailblazer that would forever chase their warmth.

“It bloomed in the morning sun…” Caelus recited, a small smile flickering across his face like the flames that now crawled across their bodies, “…and whispered to me…”

“Like fyreflies to a flame…” said Firefly as the blaze grew to a whirling inferno, overtaking the bronze SoulGlad hues with dancing shades of teal and orange. Had either of them been even remotely in tune with their surroundings, they might have heard the rapid clicking of a certain photo-happy trailblazer’s camera.

Caelus finally let go of her hands as they were claimed by her flames of metamorphosis. He leaned close to her face as the rest of her disappeared into a fiery silhouette, his lips brushing against bridge of her nose as he whispered.

“…Life begets death.”

Her sunsets were the last thing he saw before the conflagration obscured her still smiling countenance from view. Soon he was staring down the cold, seemingly indifferent blue visor of the armor of the girl he loved, even if he himself knew nothing was farther from the truth.

“I’ll… be waiting for you,” Caelus said, subdued but strong.

SAM gave him a brief, if a little stiff nod before turning to the other two trailblazers that still stood aside.

“May we meet again in reality.”

Even though her voice was raspy and warped by SAM’s voice modulator, Caelus heard only the sweet voice of fireflies.

Then she crouched low, atmospheric thrusters roaring as they ignited with one last gout of flame. SAM snapped upwards into the air like a tightly coiled spring, rocketing out of the venue and into the dream beyond. 

Caelus followed the trail of flame until it was nothing but a mere twinkle in the sea of memoria, reaching out and curling his fingers around the last transient sparks that remained.

“Caelus? Will you be alright?” Himeko called calmly. March was still starstruck from the spectacle that she had just witnessed, her favored camera still held firmly in her grip.

He tightened his hand around the embers until he could no longer feel their warmth. Then he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he felt the Stellaron ebb and flow with him.

They had made a promise. And they didn’t break their promises. 

When Caelus opened his eyes again, nothing but cold, sharp gold greeted the navigator of the Astral Express.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

The Grand Theater of Penacony was about as grand as the Express members expected. Pristine ruby red carpet, polished black marbled walls, and gilded golden decor greeted them as they stepped into the lobby alone.

It was against this backdrop of sheer opulence that made the vast, desolate emptiness of the spacious interior that the trailblazers stepped through all the more unsettling, amplified only by the low hum and dim glow cast by the numerous electric billboards advertising the lively shows and famous faces that were all notably absent.

The sound of their muffled footsteps against the plush red carpet echoed endlessly down the halls as the trio made their way forward cautiously.

“Where… is everybody?” March 7th murmured with her perky voice unusually low. 

In any other situation, she would have commented how this was a rare opportunity for a private photoshoot.

“No guests, not even any staff, not a single soul,” Himeko observed somewhat morosely, her amber eyes scanning the surroundings. Though her posture seemed relaxed, Caelus’ noticed her delicate hand was wrapped firmly around the handle of her suitcase, her index finger already primed against the activation trigger for her molecular saw.

“Probably good idea to have your bow out, March,” Caelus prompted quietly, summoning his own bat from its digital space and finding immense comfort feeling of worn grip tape against his fingers, “This is a dream, normal rules of engagement do not apply.”

March nodded as her own weapon appeared in her hand.

They decided to visit the ticket office to see if there was any sign of life anywhere. They found nothing but what looked like holographic mannequins frozen in a stiff facsimile of the staff and audience they had expected to find.

“Mannequins?” March said uneasily, “Why are there so many… mannequins at the ticket office?”

Caelus frowned.

“Not mannequins,” he corrected darkly, “Puppets.”

He never realized how much that word bothered him. Not until now, at least.

“Even so, this seems deliberate,” Himeko said, interrupting his dour thoughts, “Are they part of the stage setup?”

The three of them shared a look. Sunday must have put these here on purpose.

Given their enemy was of The Order, the ensuing insinuation was not lost on any of them.

They quickly retraced their steps back to the entrance hall.

“Something feels off… we’re in the right place, right?”

Caelus avoided vocalizing aloud that the ‘off’ March felt was probably because they were walking in a trap. Who knew which walls had ears in them?

“There’s only one Grand Theater in the Dreamscape…” Himeko observed, thumbing her chin as she most likely also feigned confusion.

“So, Sunday is messing with us? He said we’d have a final showdown on the stage, but why is there no one here?”

As if to prove Caelus’ prior point, a polite if somewhat detached voice cut across the empty Theater hall.

“My apologies for the delay, March 7th,” The voice of an unseen Sunday very unapologetically addressed the trailblazers. 

“Sunday! Show yourself!” Caelus shouted to the air, “You wanted this. So here we are!”

“Worry not, Caelus, I’m merely waiting for you behind the curtain,” calmly responded Sunday;s disembodied voice, “Following the Asdana tradition, I invite you to enjoy a stage play in three acts before the Festival begins.”

Caelus tuned out everything else the Oak Family head said past that point, letting him continue to prattle on as he started marching toward said curtain. 

He had a location, nothing else mattered.

The curtains pulled aside on their own, letting the trailblazers pass unimpeded into the auditorium that gave the Grand Theater its name.

Even darkened as it was, the theater was magnificent. Walls lined with seats towered upward, stretching into the sky almost as far as the eye could see. It was no wonder that some said that shows hosted at the High Seat of the Harmony could accommodate an audience of an entire planet. The only thing out of place was the chaotic current of cubes that whirled upwards from the dream below the main stage.  

As expected, Sunday was nowhere to be seen in the great empty hall, though his voice was certainly busy regaling them of the rise of Ena The Order.

Deaf to Sunday’s words, the Stellaron within Caelus began to simmer. He didn’t stop it.

They didn’t have time for this. He refused to waste time for this. Not with her life possibly held in the balance of this conflict by a scant few threads of feline prophecy.

Caelus’ eyes flared gold as he felt whispering tendrils entangle themselves with the Path of Harmony he had just received. Himeko gently pulled March back as she saw the Watchmaker’s glowing hat abruptly appear on Caelus’ grey head of hair without warning.

“…THEY gathered nebulae and forged them into pics,” the voice continued, blissfully unaware of the second, world-ending presence accumulating in the Grand Theater, “Thus creating a grand lyre with black—”

His words ceased when the theater began to shudder, an instinctive response to a stage suddenly torn between not one but two masters. 

A sudden cry of, “What?!” Echoed across the theater, a far cry from the eloquent sermon from just mere moments before.

And while one master was stunned into inaction, the other was free to assert his now gleaming golden-eyed will.

Caelus thrust his hand out, instantly arresting the storm of cubes which he realized were actually part of the Theater’s walls. Then the maelstrom suddenly dissipated, pieces of the theater willed back into their rightful places as the entire hall began to brighten. A roll of red carpet extended forth from the empty stage, laying itself at the trailblazers feet almost obediently. 

“Impossible!” Sputtered Sunday.

Caelus said nothing, remaining stone-faced as he brought his bat down against the theater floor.

The Watchmaker’s Legacy screamed underneath the weight of the World Cancer as the paper thin layer of dream Sunday was hiding beneath shattered against Caelus’ instrument of Destruction, revealing a Halovian now in full view of the Astral Express.

The shocked gold of Sunday’s eyes met the cold gold of Caelus’ own.

“If this dream was built by a Stellaron, it can be torn down by a Stellaron,” Caelus said in growling declaration. Flames crawled down his arm as the amber Lance of Preservation blazed into his waiting grip.

For the second time that evening, the lance pointed straight at Sunday’s neck. From beside him, Caelus heard Himeko’s saw being unsheathed from its suitcase and felt a lick of cold raise the hairs on his skin from March’s six-phased ice.

Sunday straightened, re-schooling his expression with a minute adjustment to his collar. 

“I see, it was foolish of me to think you could be swayed,” he intoned, once more dispassionate as he began to ascend into the air, “Then let it be so. But before out destined conflict, I beg you ponder the questions I pose.”

He spread his arms wide in grandiose fashion, a mere silhouette against the blinding light of the Stellaron of Sweet Dreams.

“Is darkness equal to daylight? Are sinners equal to the righteous?”

Three golden puppets, obviously heavily laden with symbolism that Caelus cared very little for at the moment, descended from above. 

Sunday’s golden eyes began to gleam. A sobering mirror to the eyes of the baseballer that stood among the trailblazers.

“If you are born weak, which god should your turn to for solace!?”

Caelus didn’t respond as his trained eyes darted between each of their weapons for a split second analysis.

The metal pipe and slender sword that the puppets that seemingly represented the Past and Future respectively wielded he could handle. What kept Caelus on guard, however, was the tilted chalice that the puppet of the Present, vibrant pink liquid spilling from its rim as the puppet raised a mocking toast toward them.

“Without Dan Heng here, I’m really the only frontline fighter,” Caelus observed quietly, “I’ll try to keep them off of you.”

“Keep that Stellaron in check, Caelus,” Himeko warned, tossing her suitcase into the air as it fully unfolded into her four-limbed drone,  “Welt isn’t here to help if it goes out of control.”

“It won’t,” Caelus muttered, “Not this time, at least.”

“Are you sure?” March asked. 

“Call it a gut feeling,” he answered. 

March rolled her eyes, “Great. A gut feeling is all that’s standing between us and blowing up.”

Despite her jab, Caelus briefly registered the slightest twinge of fear present in the edge of her multicolored eyes and sighed.

Without anything left to say, he thrust his lance into the floor, granting himself and the others the shield of Magma Will that it provided. Then, using the flaring Stellaron to push the Lance of Preservation to its utmost limit, he jetted forward with a second explosive gout of flame.

Expectedly, the Past strode forth meet him, its chained manacle of an arm swingy wildly with each long-legged step.

Unexpectedly, the candle-headed puppet was fast. It blurred toward him as an electrifying line against the carpet. 

Caelus let the now dull lance fall to the ground, swinging his bat full-strength with two hands just as the puppet of the Past reached him. His bat met the pipe violently, sending a fierce shockwave up his arms and a harsh clang of metal crashing against the theater walls.

As Caelus and the Past exchanged blows, the staccato report of gunfire echoed across the hall. Himeko’s drone buzzed violently in the air above, swooping downward to unleash an aggressive hailstorm of bullets against the Future who had moved to double team Caelus. Himeko’s chosen weapon began playing a game of cat and mouse with the elegant sword-wielding puppet, expertly staying out of reach of its short sword swings as it hovered around in the air, peppering it with bursts of flame and bullets. 

Meanwhile, bolts of six-phased ice streaked overhead, the icy projectiles just slightly missing their mark as the Present puppet danced gracefully between them.

“Hold still,” March muttered as the puppet continued to taunt her with its obvious gestures of flamboyance.

Out of the corner of his eye, Caelus noticed the Present tip its chalice toward him in between a volley of arrows. Not a second later, he found a pink liquid begin to coalesce at his feet. 

Caelus tossed his hat at the puppet’s head as he kicked backward, the resulting small blast of imaginary energy knocking him back just enough to avoid being caught in a geyser of whatever the foul, sweet-smelling pink was. He barely had time to reassess his target priorities when the Past was upon him once again.

“Cup!” Caelus shouted loudly back at the Express Archer as he ducked under a now electrified metal pipe.

“I’m trying over here!” March shouted back from behind her drawn-bow.

Himeko tsked lightly underneath her breath, prompting her drone swung abruptly at the Future with its molecular saw. Instead of doubling back, however the autonomous attack platform continued into a spinning whirlwind using its barreling momentum, gracefully disengaging with the Future as it redirected its large buzzsaw straight toward the Present’s neck. 

The puppet had no choice to but to dodge at the unexpected transition, giving March the opening she needed.

An icy arrow struck the Present’s chalice-holding hand dead on, freezing both the appendage and the offending cup in a block of prismatic six-phased ice. Seeing its sole armament disabled, the puppet stepped back in momentary retreat.

“Thanks, Ms. Himeko!”

“Focus,” Himeko chided gently, silently commanding her drone to throttle its boosters to boomerang back around the platform to collide full force into the Future, once again interrupting the puppet’s attempt to attack Caelus.

The baseballer himself blocked a pipe strike with the handle of his bat, retaliating by pushing the Past off balance with a powerful heave. He jabbed its chest with his bat’s knob as one of March’s shimmering arrows struck it in the head, giving him just enough time to reach down to grab his other discarded weapon.

Thursting the reignited Lance of Preservation high into the air, he shouted.

“March, ice me!”

March heard the cue and swiveled her aim, letting her arrow fly not a second later. The bolt of ice hit the lance with a sizzling hiss, instantly evaporating on mere contact. A thick layer of glitterIng steam instantly dispersed across the carpeted platform, blanketing both Caelus and the two puppets with near impenetrable mist.

The Past whirred as it regained its balance, joining The Future in step as the two puppets were instantly drawn to the ember glow still visible amidst the obscured platform. The Past swung its pipe, the strike sweeping away just enough of the fog to reveal a lonesome lance implanted in the platform.

The pipe wielder had only a mere second to calculate its mistake as something hard struck the back of its head. The Future whirled around only to find the streak of kinetic bat entering its field of vision, the concussive strike sending it reeling back as Caelus once again bludgeoned the Past, this time in the knee.

Had he been visible to the other trailblazers, they would have seen the baseballer delivering a barrage of blunt devastation with the clinical grace of a Stellaron Hunter, his weapon a mere glowing blur as it alternated between the two puppets and illuminated the cloud with flashes of lightning blue.

His assault came to an abrupt end, however, when he noticed pink liquid once again pooling at his feet. Caelus muttered a curse as he leapt aside a sudden deluge of liquid revelry, spotting the Present with its frosty yet freed cup raised high. It must have used the visual cover to free its hand unnoticed.

Just as Caelus prepared to reengage, he began to hear… music?

Golden eyes whipped to a golden glow amidst the fading mist, quickly finding the Future puppet with its sword in a very curious looking grip.

The sword wasn’t just a sword. It was a bow.

The Future gracefully played a sweet melody on the glowing strings of Order, swaying while filling the air with the dulcet tones of a violin. 

Caelus suddenly felt sleepy, realizing something was horribly wrong when he noticed Himeko’s drone began to waver in the air due to the melody’s straining effects on its master.

Focusing on the Stellaron screeching within his mind, Caelus warded off The Alien Song as best as he could. He hurled his bat with all his strength, sending it spinning at the hypnotic violinist. It was easily blocked by The Past, but that wasn’t the point.

“March! Himeko!” Caelus shouted at his drowsy crewmates, once more taking the hat from his head and spinning it like a frisbee. It detonated in imaginary sparkles over their heads, far enough to not do any damage through the shield provided by Magma Will but close enough that the blow definitely knocked then awake.

Granted this brief moment of lucidity, Himeko made a quick motion toward her drone. The mechanical weapon made a whirring noise before a barrage of missiles suddenly blasted toward The Future. It made the wise decision of abandoning its song before it was caught in the blast.

Caelus summoned his bat back toward his hand as the three puppets regrouped in front of them. 

He then made a troubling observation.

Where the heck was Sunday?

It seemed that Himeko had also made the same troubling observation, as her amber eyes darkened considerably as she strode to Caelus’ side.

“We need to end this now,” the Navigator declared, “Sunday is stalling.”

“Duh,” answered Caelus, swinging his bat over his back as he watched the three puppets assume a ready position, “I have an idea, but you may hate it.”

“Do it,” Himeko answered swiftly.

Caelus didn’t give a verbal response, simply nodding as he stepped forward.

At the very start of his journey, Caelus had resolved to himself to never use the Stellaron for any purpose. Partly out of fear, partly out of respect for the concerns of the Astral Express that had taken him in.

Now, though, he would be lying if he said a part of him wasn’t just a little bit excited.

Maybe rules really were made to be broken. That or a bit of Firefly’s destructive side had rubbed off on him a long time ago. Who knows?

With a steadying breath, Caelus visualized the glowing storm that was the Stellaron residing within him in his mind’s eye. Then, with nuclear level precision, he excised the smallest piece he could, the slightest little piece of the World Cancer that could be possibly separated without destabilizing the whole thing.

A blinding, white hot light appeared in his open palm as the air around him crackled angrily with unstable energy. It seared the area around him, causing parts of the theater to bubble and foam into jagged Fragmentum as the dream’s immaterial seams tried to cope with the massive amount of volatile power suddenly thrown into the open.

The Present spread its jointed arms wide, unleashing a tidal torrent of revelry in the trailblazer’s direction as The Future began its music again. The Past completed this threefold attack, springing from a crouching position into a sprint, it’s manacle flailing wildly through the air as its metal pipe raised high for a devastating blow.

As a barrage of prismatic ice fell from above in an attempt to halt the oncoming flood, Caelus grinned. He curled his fingers tighter around the fragment his hand.

What was a baseballer without a ball?

With an almost comical level of nonchalance, Caelus tossed the unstable fragment into the air, his hand finding and pulling back on his back just as the Stellaron-flavored baseball began to descend.

Putting forth all of his strength, Caelus’ bat painted a streak of electric blue across a radiant spark of the purest gold, his arms screaming in protest as he sent the Stellaron Bomb tearing across the dream at the speed of light and bathing the world in a blinding white flash that could be seen clean across the Golden Hour.

The brutal history of the Past was overpowered, disintegrated by unrelenting force.

The sea of revelry of the Present was burned away, evaporated by searing light.

The alien song of the Future was silenced, drowned out by shrieking whispers.

By the time the light faded and their ears stopped ringing, the puppets were nowhere to found...

…Along with a sizable chunk of the Penacony Grand Theater’s back wall.

Caelus appraised his handiwork with a sheepish whistle as March eyed the destruction with her mouth agape, turning a disbelieving gaze to the trailblazer who still held a miraculously intact if still smoking bat.

“We’re… not going to have to pay for that, right?” March said numbly.

Himeko said nothing, directing a calculating gaze at Caelus.

“We’re going to have to have a talk about what you can and can not do with that Stellaron after we’re finished here, Caelus.” 

Before Caelus could respond, a familiar voice echoed across the theater once more.

“I see you have written your decision with the bright ink of a Stellaron,” came Sunday’s voice, “How fitting, then, that I now permit you to gaze into the sun.”

The Express was suddenly once again on alert as countless puppets descended from above, hanging taut against the gossamer lines that held them captive.

“On these one hundred and seven thousand, three hundred and thirty-six stones, the almighty and powerful strings of Harmony are at my disposal…”

A force unknown pulled the puppets into the air as they began to burn as one, a thousand candles lighting and flickering out against the light pouring in from the opening left from the detonated Stellaron.

The theater around them crumbled away and the earth shook. Caelus stood with wide eyes as a shimmering colossus rose from the darkness beneath, bathing everything in a glow that was of an alarmingly similar tint to the light just realized by his own Stellaron as it took corporeal form.

“The Supreme Tuner, The Harmonious Choir: Domincus!”

A bellowing chorus of ethereal voices filled the air as a hulking mechanical conductor at least three stories tall spread its golden plated arms above them as the embodiment of The Harmony announced its presence to the dream in holy verse. 

Caelus felt his Stellaron sing in challenge as his friends prepared for another battle.

“The embodiment of the Harmony?” Himeko exclaimed, “So, the true purpose of the Charmony Festival… is to usurp it?”

March grimaced as she palmed her face, “I’m feeling like… there’s another world in front of my eyes…”

“It’s the power of tuning…” yelled Himeko, “Don’t let the song distract you!”

Caelus clutched his head as his vision blurred. Not from the song of Harmony and Order, but because he couldn’t hear anything other than the voices of his own Stellaron. 

The World Cancer he held captive was no longer singing.

No, it was screaming now, deafening the trailblazer to everything but its own cacophonous ringing in response to the opposing song of another Seed of Destruction.

“Caelus!” Shouted Himeko.

Caelus blinked spots from his eyes as he tightened his grip on his bat, “I’m… fine!”

Giant gears turned as the conductor began raising his baton, a harmonious grand scale weaving itself out of light in the air above it.

“The time has come. Creation will be reborn from the remain of go—“

The Harmonious Choir abruptly buckled forward as something incredibly fast pierced it through the chest.

A familiar dragon formed from tides of jadewater roared as it twisted through the air, returning to its master in a sky suddenly illuminated by the light of a Lightning Lord.

“Dan Heng?” Himeko said with a breath of relief.

Dan Heng, draped in the elegant robes of the Imbibitor Lunae, rallied his dragon as the general of the Luofu raised his blade in tandem with his spectral summon. The sky was filled to the brim with what looked like Xianzhou starskiffs as a booming voice cut across the harmonious chorus of Dominucus.

“Heed my word. SHOW NO MERCY!” Bellowed Arbiter General Jing Yuan as a Jadewater Dragon and a Lightning Lord descended in thunderous fury as one.

Through strained eyes, Caelus watched the world fade away underneath the unparalleled martial might of the Xianzhou’s finest, drowning out both the dream and the cries of the Stellaron. 

Only one question echoed across his mind as the rest of his consciousness slipped away.

How in the world did the Luofu get into the dream?

A flash of light briefly illuminated a small dark room deep beneath the Reverie as two girls stepped out of a cloud of aether particles and into reality. The shorter of the two supported the taller as she shakily stumbled forward, nearly colliding with the small desk that held a gaming setup and other computer equipment.

“Geez, take it easy,” a slightly annoyed voice chided, “You really need a rest, y‘know?”

“I need… to get back,” managed the other through labored breaths,

“Why?” Asked the other heatedly, “You’ve already done what you need to. The script says he’ll be fine.”

Firefly’s sunsets, lidded with ELS as they were, did not hide the fire that still burned behind them.

“I don’t care… what the script says,” She grated back as another wave of shuddering fatigue shot through her body, “Put me back… in the dream.”

She felt a surprisingly strong grip on her upper arm.

Silver Wolf grimaced, “It’s been nearly a week since you topped off on HP. Do you remember anything I’ve taught you about MOBAs? You can’t win games if you overextend.”

“This isn’t a MOBA and I’m not going to let him face an Aeon alone,” Firefly fired back hotly, “It’s fine. I’m fine. Just put me back in the dream, I won’t feel anything once I’m in.”

“It’s not that that I’m worried about,” Silver Wolf muttered, though she released the grip she had on Firefly’s arm as spun herself into her gaming chair and roused her computers to life with several aggressive taps on her space bar, “But fine, if you wanna kill yourself for lover boy, by all means, go ahead. At least get dressed properly before hand.”

Firefly nodded as the room quickly filled with the light of Silver Wolf’s multiple monitors.  She leaned her weight against an exposed brick wall, letting her clothing pool haphazardly on the floor as she reached for a white plug suit that hung nearby. A pair of hands rapidly fluttered across two keyboards as she changed.

“Does Caelus even remember you?” Silver Wolf asked idly, punctuating her question by blowing a pink bubble of gum.

“Yes.”

The bubble popped. The pair of clattering hands paused for a brief second.

“That’s… unexpected,” Silver Wolf said after a moment. 

And it really explained why Firefly seemed so adamant about returning to the sweet dream even when all of her current script-dictated duties were completed. 

Silver Wolf huffed. Maybe hiring that Fool was truly a fool’s errand after all. Pun fully intended.

Another bubble failed to form as she resumed her work. She was suddenly too distracted.

“Does Elio know?” The hacker asked.

“Don’t know. Don’t care,” Firefly said as she pulled her white skin-tight combat suit over her bare shoulders, “Probably, knowing him.”

“Unforgettable gains?”

“Yeah,” responded Firefly, “Zip me, please.”

Silver Wolf hit enter on her keyboard to execute a script of code as she pushed out of her seat and toward where her fellow Stellaron Hunter stood. Her small hands easily found the zipper at the base of her back, easily pulling it upwards like she had at least a hundred times before.

“All set,” Silver Wolf said, testing the seal with a light pat on her back.

Firefly nodded as Silver Wolf ducked under her shoulder, once again supporting her weight as the duo made their way to the old jury-rigged bathtub that took a up a vast majority of the cramped room. She carefully stepped over various half-filled canisters of chemicals, swinging her legs over and into the warm dreamfluid the makeshift dreampool contained.

“Get in. Beat up whatever needs a beating. Then get out,” Silver Wolf said as she lowered Firefly into the tub, “No time for BMing. You can make out with Cae-boy after you’re done dying for a third time.”

The teasing jab might have had Firefly flustered in any other situation. Right now, it simply washed over and off of her like the rippling dreamfluid in the tub.

“Got it,” she responded curtly.

“Good,” Silver Wolf said as she returned to her station, “I’ll be there to fill support as soon as I make sure my Player 2 Protocol works. Are you ready?”

Firefly raised her arm out of the tub, flashing an already drowsy thumbs up to the Hunter’s computer savant as the sedative chemical cocktail flooded her lungs.

“Commencing dreamdive,” she heard Silver Wolf announce, “In 3, 2, 1…”

Firefly felt a familiar sensation of weightlessness as she let the rest of her consciousness slip away in the warmth of the tub.

Hold on, Caelus. I’m on my way.

“Wake up… wake up!”

Caelus’ mind was a scrambled mess as he struggled to open his eyes.

“…Hey, Caelus, Wake up! The sun’s frying your butt!”

With a groan, Caelus cracked open his lidded eyes, finding a pink-haired girl standing at the edge of his dreampool.

For some reason he couldn’t remember, he felt disappointed. Almost like he was expecting someone else.

“March,” he murmured as he crawled his way out of the pool, the chemical cocktail rapidly drying once exposed to air.

“Are you alright?” Can you hear me?” March asked rapidly, “Do you remember your name?”

“I’m fine…” he managed as he steadied himself, “Did we… win? I remember… Dan Heng and the Arbiter General?”

“Yep!” March responded, popping the P, “Dan Heng used the Jade Abacus of Allying Oath and the Xianzhou Luofu came running.”

Murky, Stellaron-hazed memories came flooding to the front of his head as Caelus confirmed her words with his experiences.

“O…k…”

Caelus followed March out of his room, only half-tuned in to her explanation for what had happened while he was asleep.

No matter how he tried, he couldn’t shake the feeling like he was forgetting something important. Something that he needed a remember.

Something about sunsets, sunrises, and… a promise?

“Not going to chat with me, Caelus?”

His attention was captured by the memokeeper standing at the small lounge.

“Black Swan?” He greeted as he diverted his course more out of an ingrained sense of courtesy than anything else, bringing a puzzled March along with him.

Once again, he half listened the purple-garbed woman explain how she had lifted them out of the dream at the most opportune moment. He gave his thanks and the memory keeper accompanied them to the VIP lounge.

He went through the motions, still feeling oddly detached as they found Dan Heng conversing with an honest-to-god cowboy at the bar.

They exchanged pleasantries without much issue. Up until the cowboy named Boothill suddenly failed to remember why he was even in Penacony in the first place.

“Who was it again? Uh, Dan Heng, do you remember?”

Dan Heng’s eyes furrowed in confusion, something that immediately put Caelus on edge because Dan Heng never forgot anything.

“I… can’t seem to recall.”

Boothill shrugged, “Well, my neuro chip hasn’t registered any malfunctions…”

Now Caelus was suspicious. And it was this suscpicion that continued to grow as he listened to the conversations with the General, the IPC, and the Genius Society.

Nothing was making sense. The Xianzhou Luofu would not drop everything just to facialte peace talks with Penacony. The IPC would never just let a honeypot like Penacony go. Madam Herta would rather nuke the Blue then delay any progress on the Simulated Universe.

Years with the Express had taught him that everyone had their agendas, and parting with those agendas so easily left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

Now Caelus’ brow furrowed in confusion.

Express? He hadn’t been with the Express that long…

He remained stone-faced as he returned to his room to pack his one piece of luggage. He threw everything into his suitcase haphazardly, resolving himself to sort everything away once it was washed on the Express.

He was just about to leave when he noticed a garment bag hanging off a chair near the door. Puzzled, he opened it.

Then he almost dropped it.

Inside was a misty teal dress, freshly pressed and glittering from the light of the hotel lamps.

Caelus blinked as his breath caught in his throat.

He remembered buying this dress. 

He didn’t remember why he had bought it.

“Caelus! Come on!” He heard March yell from the hall, “We’re all waiting for you!”

“C-coming!” He shouted, quickly zipping the bag and hanging it carefully on the handle of his sole suitcase.

His mind remained a storm as he was quickly whisked back to the lounge car of the Express. Apparently Black Swan and the cowboy Boothill would be joining them temporarily for the next stage of their journey. He didn’t even tune into the conversation until Himeko called out to him.

“Caelus, we need your vote,” the Navigator reminded gently.

“Vote?” He said, startled out of his own thoughts, “Uh… can we go over the choices again?”

“Oh Caelus, what are we gonna do with you?” March teased, “You’ve been out of it since you’ve woken up.”

The memory keeper among them tilted her head curiously.

“Are you forgetting something, Caelus?” Black Swan asked.

There was an odd undercurrent in her voice was present that drew his full attention. Almost like she knew something he didn’t.

“Don’t worry about him, Miss Swan,” March placated, “Sometimes it’s like scorched earth up in that head of his.”

Two words echoed in the depths of Caelus mind from the surface all the way down to his core.

Scorched Earth.

Scorched. Earth.

An image of a burnt landscape flashed across his mind for an instant, a girl with silver hair standing among the destruction as a shining green sprig climbing higher and higher toward the sky.

He had bought that teal dress for a girl. 

For a girl that dreamt of scorched earth with sunsets in her eyes and fire at her back. 

For a girl that made a list because she wanted to experience life carefree for the first time.

For a girl he knew.

For a girl he loved.

The world faded away as he remembered sunset eyes and a promise to see the sunrise.

Together. Like they used to.

For the first time since he awakened, clouded gold sharpened like knives. A single, burning question thundered across his mind as the Astral Express shattered around him. 

Where was Firefly?

And Caelus woke up.

Chapter Text

“Hey, Cae, wake up…”

Caelus murmured softly as the whispers gently lulled him out of the light sleep he had blissfully slipped into.

“…’Fly…” he groaned lightly in protest.

The warmth nestled against his right side stirred.

“C’mon, sleepyhead,” Firefly urged, tugging the shared blanket around their shoulders a bit tighter around their pajama-clad bodies.

Caelus crinkled his nose against the chilly, crisp morning air, watching a puff of steam leave his mouth as his eyes creaked open. He found Firefly gazing at him, her face half lit by the white light emitted by her phone screen.

The couple currently found themselves on the roof of their hideout, freshly transported to a new planet in a remote system near the very edges of the Silver Rails. Courtesy of their newest member’s “elite porting skills” or something along those lines. 

Caelus didn’t focus on the details. He was perfectly content asking zero questions if it meant they didn’t have to abandon half of their belongings every time their location got compromised.

At Firefly’s insistence, she had dragged Caelus out of their bed to watch the sunrise and she had been especially adamant about it since the star system they found themselves in happened to have binary sun.

Hence, sitting on the roof at 0300 system hours. 

The only problem was that there was neither a sun nor a rise on the horizon. Not even a sign of one. Just a twinkling, cloudless sky blanketed in the same one-note early morning hue they had arrived to.

Caelus let out a loud, unstifled yawn.

“I’m cold.”

“You’re always cold,” observed Firefly with a quiet giggle.

He was always cold. And apparently he would be until he would one day receive the Stellaron he was destined to carry to the end of the script.

At least, that’s what Kafka told him.

An idea suddenly entered his head. It probably shouldn’t have left it, but he was too tired to stop himself.

“…Maybe we could test out that autopilot feature Silver Wolf installed into SAM and raise the temperature a few degrees?”

Even in the darkness, Caelus could see the edges of Firefly’s lips crease downward.

“Caelus, we are not using the Legacy of Glamoth as a portable space heater,” she huffed incredulously, “That is so undignified.”

Her reasoning fell flat against his usual stone-faced expression, “You… literally used SAM for barbecue the other day.”

A mane of silver hair brushed against the fabric of the blanket as Firefly quietly averted her gaze. Kafka had helped dye the ends of it recently.

“That’s… uh… different.”

Caelus said nothing. He just tilted his head in slight challenge.

“That was… using it for its intended purpose?” Firefly offered lamely, “Burning things, you know.”

A stifled snort quietly echoed across the roof, “I’m sure that beef brisket posed a huge threat to Her Majesty’s glorious and eternal reign.”

Two softly glowing sunsets glowered in the early morning darkness, though the embers that burned behind them were more playful than anything else. 

“The health and wellbeing of our ‘troops’ is always an important mission,” Firefly defended factually. She was definitely reciting some mantra from her time as a soldier.

Still, said former soldier knew she had walked into a trap of some sort when she saw a sleepy grin directed at her. 

“Well, in that case, I’m still cold.”

“You big baby,” Firefly murmured with an affectionate little sigh as she suddenly went rummaging underneath her half of the blanket.

A silver canister suddenly poked out of the blanket. Caelus didn’t reach for it immediately, noticing that the delicate hands cupped around it pulsed softly with teal light. Veins of green crawled down her wrists and to her palms.

Caelus’ easy, lidded expression sobered several degrees when he felt the waves of heat produced by Firefly’s thermal touch brush against his cheeks.

“You shouldn’t waste energy like that,” Caelus said, suddenly just a bit more serious, “I’m cold, not dying.”

He felt her shrug against his own shoulder.

“No script for us this week. I think Elio’s still a little mad at us for the whole Philosopher’s Poison thing in Golcondor,” Firefly pointed out.

Caelus tsked lightly, “Then he can take it up with me. The inorganics were being treated like slaves. If anything, I saved Planet Screwllum another war.”

“Hey, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. I helped you release it, remember?” Firefly said as the glow from her hands faded, “Besides, it’s not just for you, you know.”

Firefly brought the heated thermos to her lips taking an experimental sip to make sure it was to her liking. She let out a content sigh as she offered the now piping hot drink to an eager Caelus.

Caelus could tell what it was based on the sweet aroma alone.

“Kafka’s cocoa?” he observed with a hint of surprise, letting the creamy richness of Kafka’s most recent culinary foray warm him greatly as he took a big sip, “I thought we were finished with our share.”

“It’s Blade’s,” Firefly said simply.

“You stole it…” Caelus said flatly as he passed the thermos back, “From Blade?”

Firefly let out an exaggerated, scandalized gasp.

“Excuse me. I asked him, thank you very much,” she exclaimed, “What am I, a criminal?”

After a brief moment, Caelus snickered. This in turn caused Firefly to giggle, and soon the two were laughing out loud into the early morning sky. It quickly faded, as the last person who disturbed Kafka’s beauty sleep died a horrible, horrible death.

“So…” Caelus managed after his fit of humor subsided, “Weren’t we waiting for a sunrise?”

There was a pause as Firefly partook in their shared cocoa. 

“Yeah,“ Firefly admitted a little coyly, “But then Silver Wolf texted me about something she picked up on system radar.”

Caelus took back the thermos, a bit bummed they were already halfway through it, “There’s no way she’s still up.”

“I think she sleeps less than I do,” Firefly said, eyes crinkling with a bit of amusement, “But yeah, look up. It should be starting.”

Golden eyes flicked upward to the night sky. Maybe it was because he had just woken up, but this time he noticed a small white streak fly across the sky almost faster than he could track it.

Then another. And another. And another.

Caelus looked back at Firefly, only to see the shooting stars already reflected in her wonder-filled sunsets. Though that didn’t stop her hand from reaching over and plucking the cocoa thermos out of his grip before he could steal another sip.

“A meteor shower?”

“Uh-huh…” Firefly murmured, quite literally starstruck, “Isn’t it pretty?” 

“Yeah.” And that’s all he said. Because the twinkling starstorm was quite pretty.

His own appreciation of the cosmic event was momentarily interrupted when he noticed Firefly’s abruptly crane her head toward him, her chin almost coming to rest against his shoulder.

“You know what they say about shooting stars,” Firefly whispered excitedly.

Caelus blinked, “Uh…”

Her sunsets widened just a smidge. 

“Oh. Sorry. I assumed,” she said, “If you see a shooting star, you have to make a wish. It’s tradition.” 

Caelus tilted his head curiously, “Like, for anything?”

“Anything,” she said with a grin, “I wish for a pet shark.”

Caelus reclaimed the hot cocoa with a raised eyebrow, “A… shark? Really?”

“Duh,” said Firefly as if it were as obvious as the sun they were waiting to see crest the horizon, “They’re like the coolest apex predators.”

Caelus chuckled, though he found himself staring into the now empty thermos a second longer than he probably should have.

“I thought you’d wish for… you know.”

Firefly blinked. Then her lips parted slightly in realization.

After a moment of silence, she spoke.

“One, that’s really, really boring,” Firefly said, “And two… I don’t think that’s something I can get from just a wish.”

Caelus’ confused silence prompted her to continue, though her voice was notably subdued.

“Listen, Cae, I… want to live longer. I really want to, but…” 

Her words trailed off as she turned back to the trails being traced in the sky.

“I think if my fate is to be overcome… I’d like it to be by my own hands.”

Caelus frowned a little, though it was more because he was getting cold again than anything else.

“So if someone offered to cure your ELS tomorrow, no strings attached, would you take it?”

Her answer was much quicker this time, “If it’s my choice to make and there’s nothing left for me to do, then yeah, definitely, of course I would. But you and I both know it will never be that simple.”

Caelus wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It… wasn’t what he was expecting.

“Besides, I’m grateful for what I already have. For you. For the other Hunters,” she said, a somber smile gracing her lips, “Even if my light goes out tomorrow, I’d still be… happy.”

Because I’ve already had a chance to live. Even for just a fleeting moment…

Caelus grimaced slightly at the morose thought, but eventually he nodded. Slowly.

“Ok.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence as they appreciated the last of the falling stars. It wasn’t until the time the skies had just began to brighten with the first hints of morning light that Firefly spoke again. 

“Are you still cold?” 

“A… bit.”

He was actually really cold, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to say anything to prompt Firefly to use any more of her entropy for his sake.

In response to his rather lame answer, Firefly promptly invaded his personal space, bringing her side of her blanket with her as she crawled into his lap.

Her back settled against his chest, letting out a small little sigh when Caelus wrapped his arms around the warmth of her body. A few lavender scented locks of silver hair grazed against his chin as she looked back at him.

“Better?”

Caelus hummed in content.

“Much.”

They nestled into each other, falling still together until the first rays of a binary star suddenly peaked over the horizon. 

“What did you wish for?” Firefly murmured absently as she drunk in the newborn warmth the morning brought.

“You already know what I wished for.”

“Hmmm. Let me guess…” she said, pausing with faux thoughtfulness before delivering her answer, “A golden plated trash can?”

She felt more than heard Caelus’ ensuing chuckle

“No, not quite,” Caelus said, “But close.”

When she returned his smile with the bright sunrise reflected in sunset, he didn’t bother correcting her. 

She knew.

I wish for a future, long and bright. 

I wish for a future, full of sun and light.

I wish for a future just for you.

So I can forever be with you.

Caelus’ eyes snapped open.

Unlike his most recent egress from the dreampool, Caelus rose out of the warm fluid tense and alert, nearly jumping out of the tub as his bat flickered into his grip.

With rapidly evaporating dreamfluid dripping off his clothes, ice-cold gold blinked out lingering blurry spots as he scanned his surroundings.

He was in the Reverie, but not the Reverie in Reality.

They were still in the dream. 

Or, rather, they had never left it.

A sharp click of metal cracked like lightning across his thoughts.

His head snapped to an ember warm glow nestled in the corner of room. His weapon arm moved on its own, the flickering flame of a lighter casting a warped orange reflection against the black metal end of his bat’s barrel.

A gruff voice scoffed.

“Well well well, look who woke up before their alarm Clockie.”

The flame of the lighter raised upward, igniting an unlit cigarette as flickering shadows danced over a familiar, grizzled face.

The bat quickly lowered.

“Gallagher. I didn’t take you for a smoker.”

“Only when I’m knee deep in some real shit, Mr. Stellaron,” the old bloodhound answered easily as he breathed a puff of smoke.

The bridge of Caelus’ nose scrunched as the acrid scent quickly reached his nostrils, “What are you doing here?”

Gallagher just raised a questioning eyebrow, the very epitome of an unspoken question. It made Caelus feel a little stupid.

“Right, right,” Caelus said, his bat disappearing in digital sparks, “I’m guessing I don’t get a free drink this time?”

Gallagher held his cig between two fingers as he spoke, “If I had it my way, I’d already be treating you at Dreamjolt, but, well…”

He gestured vaguely to the dim dreamscape Reverie around him. Caelus did not need him to elaborate.

Still, the trailblazer sighed, pacing over to the only other empty chair that wasn’t floating off the ground and slumping in it wearily. 

It was funny how this trip to Penacony was supposed to be a leisure trip.

“I guess you aren’t here just to be my wake-up call?” Caelus said after a moment.

“Not quite,” the Bloodhound corrected, “That Memokeeper had me fetch you from Mr. Wings’ clutches. Clever little bastard buried you at the very bottom of this whole dream.”

Caelus frowned at the mention of Sunday, “That sounds easier said than done.”

“You can say that again,” Gallagher said with a harsh scoff, “The Memokeeper said she could’ve done it herself, but, with that little extra layer of protection, we had to have Sleepie here do a little bit of overtime.”

He brought his right leg up to cross it over his left, flicking open his lighter once again. As he did so, something slithered in the shadow cast by the small flickering flame.

Caelus tensed as an unblinking violet eye stared at him from the abyss behind his leg.

“Easy, easy,” Gallagher placated the memory zone meme, though he followed his words by directing a somewhat cross look at the Trailblazer, “He’s still a bit scared of you, y’know? You gave him quite the beating over Ms. Firefly.”

Never in a million years did Caelus ever think the nightmarish creature that still haunted his own memories would be afraid of him. Regardless, he had the wherewithal to look a little sheepish at the owner of the oddest pet to ever exist. 

“Sorry.”

Gallagher waved him off, Sleepie’s sole eye disappearing as he extinguished the flame, “It’s fine. But by the Watchmaker, once I get my hands on Mr. Wings...”

Even though he couldn’t really see it, Caelus could hear the popping of knuckles cracking.

“Then you’ll have to get in line.”

A loud guffaw echoed across the empty room, “Trust me, kid, I’ve been in line.”

Before anything else could be said, a series of light taps rapped across the hotel room as someone politely knocked at his door. Caelus stood up, outstretched hand a mere moment away from summoning his bat.

“Well, that’ll be the real welcome wagon,” Gallagher said, flicking the butt of his cigarette into a dream-suspended ashtray, “I’ve still gotta take care of a few things so I’ll make myself scarce.”

He flicked the lighter again and a tendril of shadow crawled upward, twisting and curling around him until it solidified into the familiar eyes of a bladed wing that still put Caelus completely on edge. Luckily, he could only catch a glimpse of it until pitch black, smokey shadow completely obscured his view.  

“See you on the flip side, Mr. Stellaron.”

And with that, he was gone.

A second round of knocking came from the door as the last wisps of Dormancy faded. Steadily, Caelus crossed the room toward the door.

When he opened it, he found two woman clad in purple waiting for him. One held a sheathed dai-katana in her grip. The other hid her silvery lilac hair behind the veil of a memokeeper.

“Hello, Caelus,” Black Swan greeted, “I went through all the trouble of coming to wake you up and you decide to do so on your own.”

She flicked out a pinched hand. At first Caelus couldn’t see anything, but with a twist of her fingers, the light cone Caelus had given her in the Sweet Dream shimmered and glittered with prismatic light.

“And I had all these precious memories just for you,” the memokeeper bemoaned lightly, “Who knew that bond you and that Little Light share would be strong enough for you to break free on your own.”

“Firefly,” Caelus breathed, “Is she alright?”

“She’s in reality,” Acheron said swiftly, cutting straight through Swan’s cryptic mysticism, “She found us at the Express.”

“She lead you to us?”

“To you, specifically,” Acheron corrected.

“And where is she now?” Caelus pressed, maybe a bit too hotly.

Acheron shook her head, “I don’t know. She left with another Stellaron Hunter shortly after. She looked… fatigued.”

Caelus’ brow knitted into a knot three times over.

“I need you to focus, dear Caelus,” Swan said once again, “There are things we must accomplish.”

His lips flattened into a thin line.

“…Alright.”

It was very much not alright. And apparently it showed on his face.

“Hmph,” Black Swan pouted, “I would’ve thought you’d have better handle on your emotions by now.”

“Swan,” Acheron warned lightly, prompting the Memokeeper to sigh.

“Yes, yes, I know. Let me have just a little fun,” Black Swan protested as the light cone vanished, “Tell me, what do you understand of the current predicament so far?”

Caelus took a deep, Firefly-endorsed breath (he was doing a lot more of those lately) and pushed aside his near deafening concerns with a forceful mental shove, replacing them with a web of observations he had strung together while talking to Gallagher.

As a result, he had arrived at his own conclusion several minutes ago.

“We’re still in the dream,” Caelus said, “Misha, Clockie, the inexplicable arrival of the Xianzhou at the Grand Theater. That all could only have happened if we’ve been trapped in a dream ever since we set foot on Asdana.”

Acheron nodded, “Indeed. You remember our first meeting, yes?”

Caelus nodded.

”Yes. We weren’t meeting in the dream… we were meeting here,” said Caelus as he gestured around him to the Reverie-like surroundings, “In the space between reality and the dream.”

“More or less,” Acheron confirmed, “Though I think Sunday’s ambition extends well beyond simply hosting a dream. Quite the contrary, I think the followers of Order are using the Stellaron to catalyze the leakage of Asdana’s memoria into the material world, allowing the Dreamscape to blend with reality.”

Caelus tilted his head, “Does a Stellaron really have that much effect on memoria? Enough to blur the lines between dream and reality?”

“Very much indeed. And I would know,” Black Swan intoned, “Surely you have experienced the horrors of Fragmentum?”

Caelus blinked.

The ghosts of the pasts that still haunted abandoned streets in Jarilo. The weird anomalies of space-time that Mr. Yang called Caverns of Corrosion. The twisted regurgitations of victims that the Stellaron threw out at him as monsters. Caelus realized they could all be categorized as memoria.

It also definitely explained why it was so easy to rip apart Sunday’s illusions with the song of the World Cancer.

Acheron and Black Swan both took turns explaining the rest of the situation to him. It more or less lined up with what he thought. Sunday had ushered in his eternal Sweet Dream, turning all who fell under it into an unknowing pupped of Order.

Caelus mentally tsked. He was going to have a talk with March about the dangers of saying things were going to be ‘easy’.

“So Acheron wasn’t affected because of her Path and she met up with Gallagher. You freed yourself upon looking through my memories and then you both tried to free me?” Caelus clarified.

The memokeeper nodded, “I was to reach out to you within the dream. To help guide you to the truth. But it seems that when Dormancy cut you from the weave of memoria, you became quickly aware of a far more fatal flaw with Sunday’s sweet dream than the one I was prepared to use.”

Acheron made a thoughtful noise, “The absence of Miss Firefly. But that begs the question… why was her presence in the dream erased? Why not try and appease you with a dream copy of her?”

“Because Firefly’s… condition means she can’t dream like others do,” Caelus answered easily, “I don’t know exactly how, but if my intuition is correct then she’s been entering the dream with the help of another Stellaron Hunter.”

“I see. It would explain why he kept you so deep in the dream,” Black Swan observed, “And why you, Acheron, were completely absent from the dream as well.

Acheron nodded plainly. Caelus made no outward change of expression, but the memokeeper was very attuned to the gold that simmered behind his eyes.

Another notably deep breath escaped the trailblazer.

“Are there others that are awake?’ Caelus asked stiffly, abruptly changing the subject.

Acheron looked toward at Black Swan.

“Yes,” she said, “Please, follow me.”

The memokeeper lead them through the labyrinthian halls of this odd realm, walking past dozens upon dozens of catatonic dream-trapped individuals as they traversed through the twisting halls of chaotic space for several minutes.

Eventually, Caelus heard something reach his ear that wasn’t the sifting sands and quiet bubbling of unstable memoria.

“Is that… music?” Caelus asked quietly as notes of song began echoing down the hall.

“Yes,” said Acheron simply.

They followed the lyrical trail until the trio reached a much larger room. Caelus realized it looked somewhat like the grand lobby of the Reverie. There were many people scattered about; some were in groups and some were alone, though all of them looked some degree of troubled.

What immediately drew Caelus’ attention, however, was a singing girl standing on what looked to be a floating table. Though her voice wasn’t necessarily loud, the high, melodious notes still carried far across the dream, penetrating deeply through the hallways surrounding them. Long lilac hair swayed gently as the voice’s owner turned to them, the source of this guiding hymn falling silent upon seeing them as she hopped off her makeshift stage with hurried step.

It was the one person that Caelus did not want to see.

“Miss Robin,” he greeted, plastering a somewhat strained smile as the singer approached them, “I’m glad to see you’re alright.”

“Likewise,” Robin said, “I’m so happy you’ve finally made it.”

Acheron stepped forward.

“I believe this tough little lady needs no introduction,” the Emanator said, “She woke up from Ena’s dream of her own will and has been leading those who wake here with her song ever since.”

Caelus was more than happy to embody silence as the rest of his companions discussed their next steps. He was also more than happy when Dan Heng and that cowboy Boothill showed up. He exchanged a brief nod with the Xianzhou Express member before letting his analytical friend take the reigns of the conversation.

The main conundrum they faced was weakening the Sweet Dream long enough for the Harmonious Choir to manifest in a way it could be defeated.

“If the Trailblaze is the target of heroes, then the Harmony will grant the that the strong help the weak. Only the people of Penacony themselves can be the saviors of their homeland,” Robin declared, “Their path of happiness should be forged by themselves. While I may not be a Nameless, I’m willing to instill courage in all those who need it.”

The edges of her emerald eyes fell slightly, “This includes my brother as well. Ena’s Dream… is too cruel for him, and everyone else.”

As Black Swan voiced her concerns about the root of human nature, Caelus shifted to hide his sour gaze uneasily. Only Dan Heng noticed the minute change in his expression, yet the deliberations continued.

With Dan Heng and Black Swan, they arrived at a solution remarkably quickly.

They would attempt a two prong attack on the Sweet Dream. Acheron would use her abilities to detonate the dream from within, forcing a mass exodus with the power of Nihility. At the same time, Boothill would dilute the collective resonance of the Sweet Dream using the free will of Galaxy Rangers, summoned by a sacred burial rite that the cowboy was confident he could pull off. Then, only when the Choir’s hold was weakened, would Robin step onto stage, using her own tuning to guide Penacony out of Order’s shadow and into the light of reality.

It wasn’t entirely foolproof, but it was something they could work with and Caelus was more than happy to go forward with it.

As everyone parted ways to make their preparations, Caelus was about to check in with Dan Heng when a winged face approached him before he could slip away.

“Um, Mr. Trailblazer, can I have a word with you?” Robin asked quickly.

He hid his hesitance behind his usual stone-faced expression.

“Sure.”

He had expected a question or two. Maybe about Sunday, maybe not.

What he did not expect was a hushed invocation to fly so fast out of her mouth he could barely comprehend it.

“Oh, Triple-Faced Soul, please sear his tongue and palms with a hot iron, so that he will not be able to fabricate lies and make false vows.”

Caelus winced as he suddenly felt something fuzzy wrap around his mind. He immediately knew he was snared in… something.

“Wow…” Robin said, her emerald eyes wide with surprise, “I didn’t think that would actually work.”

A golden-eye glare intensified in response. Caelus’ expression, steadfast until now, cracked into a bitter frown.

“Miss Robin, I inherited the gaze of the Aeon you literally sing for,” Caelus warned slowly, “I doubt the effects of your trick here are going to work as well as you think.”

At least he thought so. Sure, he could feel the effects of whatever she had enchanted him with nipping at the heel of his every word. But between the Watchmaker’s Legacy, the Gaze of Harmony, and his prior experience with what that witch Ruan Mei had put him through… 

Well, this attempt at mental compulsion was child’s play.

“I’m sorry,” Robin said and to her credit she actually did sound a bit guilty, “But there’s something I really need to know from you. Something that I can’t have you lie about.”

Caelus’ glare remained unchanged, “Well, it’s not like I have a choice.”

Something in his sentence must have either emboldened her or struck a chord because her delicate, glossed lips suddenly pursed. 

“Caelus, do you want to kill my brother?”

Caelus felt something prod at the back of his mind, pushing him to answer. He didn’t resist it, nor did he really want to.

“Yes,” he admitted bluntly, no amount of hesitation whatsoever cloud his answer.

Just because he could feel bad about killing someone’s brother didn’t really change the fact he still wanted said brother very dead. What did give Caelus slight pause, however, was that he found he was used to this feeling of resigned acceptance.

Hard decisions indeed, Himeko.

There was no outward reaction from the idol singer, only a quick follow up question.

“Why?”

Again, Caelus let his words flow freely from his mouth.

“Because he manipulated us under the pretense of his god-complex, is trying to rip the free will away from an entire star system, and is a threat to the cosmos as a whole.”

Robin’s eyes narrowed just slightly. Caelus felt a slight wave of nausea course through him before the singer repeated her question again.

“Why?”

Caelus sighed, breathing out the rest of his hesitance as he relinquished the hold on the one answer he knew was truer than any other.

“Because he tried to erase the most important person in my life from my memories,” Caelus muttered, golden eyes so sharp they could cut through solid durasteel, “Again.”

Robin’s entire body seemed to sag at the edges, her wings drooping flat as Caelus felt the influence of the Harmony begin to recede from his mind.

“Oh, brother…” she murmured softly, “What did you do?”

“Are we done?” Caelus asked, rubbing his temple in a somewhat vain attempt to vacate the enchantment faster. 

If his words were several degrees colder than they were mere minutes ago, he felt he could be excused.

Robin’s posture straightened.

“I’m no fool, Caelus. I am entering this conflict very ready to lose my brother,” Robin said, “I… understand that. And, if it’s for the good of Penacony, accept it as well.” 

Her emerald eyes were resolute, through her admission was somewhat betrayed by the raw desperation clinging to her melodic voice.

“I know he has greatly wronged you, but please, he truly only had the best of intentions,” she continued, “If you could find it in your heart to spare him… I would be forever in your debt.”

The idol didn’t wait to hear his answer, leaving him only to contemplate the measured clack of her heels as they paced quickly against the lobby floor.

Luckily for him, another figure approached him.

“Caelus,” Acheron said, “We’re ready.” 

“Great,” Caelus said, “Let’s roll.”

“Let’s bid our final farewells here.”

When Acheron had asked him a familiar series of questions at the horizon of existence, he realized that his answers hadn’t really changed.

Well, all except for one.

“So far, you have forged unbreakable bonds with numerous individuals and entities in the sweet dream,” an Acheron drained of color save for a single shade had asked him, “Might I ask, if you fear severing those bonds with your own hands?”

His voice stilled, if only for a second.

“Only… one.”

Acheron nodded. They conversed for a moment more.

Then, with a single stroke of her blood-red blade, Acheron tore the Sweet Dream apart.

Caelus suddenly found himself falling as the ocean of existence bottomed out into a familiar, star-studded sky. Streaks of vibrant blue chased after proud violet far above the eternal sunset of the dreamscape as wind whipped harshly at his face.

He had just flipped onto his back when he felt a strong hand grasp his forearm and pull him upward. He was expecting the dispassionate violet of Acheron to greet him.

Instead he was greeted with a second, far more welcoming sunset glittering among the dark dream sky.

“Hey,” said a grinning Firefly.

The trailblazer smiled despite himself, letting himself be pulled into Firefly’s free-falling embrace as he indulged in the purest of relief for a mere second.

“Hey,” Caelus said.

She was wearing a white, form-fitting combat suit that brought a flood of memories crashing against the shores of his mind. Many pleasant, many less so, but all very real.

He pulled her closer, until he could almost—

“Oh my god. Cut that out.”

A holographic visage of a girl pieced itself together from aether particles. She regarded the free-falling couple with a thoroughly unimpressed expression, sitting nonchalantly with her legs crossed on a non-existent chair.

“I told you to save the romantical rainbow vomit for after we deal with the world-ending raid boss,” said Silver Wolf, her voice slightly miffed as her hands danced over a dozen of transparent screens, “Please and thank you.”

Caelus let out a chuckle, more at Firefly’s peeved expression than the newcomer’s disruptive entrance, “Wolfie, it’s good to see you.”

Silver Wolf’s eyes darted to Caelus, the second person in this universe that she let use that Nanook-damned pet name, for only a split second before returning to the deluge of data bombarding her setup.

“Oh, you really are back, huh Cae-boy?” The hacker observed dryly.

Before he could respond, the pint-sized hacker cut him off with the pop of her bubblegum. 

“Ah ah ah. Time for that later. Your friends have already started round two,” Silver Wolf chided, “I’ll keep the dream from crashing underneath your Stellaron, so just focus on beating Sunday-Funday into next week with alll you got. Firefly’s running on fumes in the real world, so make it snappy.”

“Again, I’m fine,” Firefly protested as Caelus’ gaze turned concerned.

“Yeah, yeah,” Silver Wolf muttered, “Don’t push it. GLHF.”

Then she was gone.

Caelus and Firefly exchanged one last glance. It spoke of everything that had to remain unspoken as a pair of sunsets began to burn.

“Ready?”

A pair of gold hardened in response.

“Ready.”

Fire took them both, burning away their doubts in the familiar conflagration of metamorphosis as a flaming pillar ascended to the heavens.  

Ever onwards, ever toward their sunrise.

Chapter Text

“Have you broken free from the dream of order?”

A golden conductor flourished his baton in nigh lackadaisical fashion. In obedient response, the choir of pure light behind him bellowed a chorus that weaved into the spectral notes of order. 

The large dream-suspended platform that served as the choir’s grand stage shook violently as three members of the Astral Express found themselves beset by a sudden note-storm of imaginary energy.

March 7th let out a grunt as she rolled to a stop, bracing herself on one knee as she let an arrow fly into the air. The bolt of six-phased ice splintered again and again, turning into a shower of countless shards as the makeshift flak cannon intercepted a huge swath of projectiles.

“Is it just me? Or is this guy a lot bigger than before!?” March yelled over the immutable hymn of Order.

Bigger was a bit of an understatement. If the Harmonious Choir that Sunday commandeered had been large before, it was gargantuan now. 

The mechanical behemoth that served as the choir’s grand conductor rose several stories higher into the air. The ensemble of Faded Echoes that had accompanied it before now extended into rows upon rows of its singers stretching into the sky on gilded pedestals so numerous it made the auditorium look more like a coliseum.

A jade spear deflected another golden note with expert martial precision as its wielder flipped backwards.

“He’s drawing more power from the Dream!” Dan Heng yelled back, “I have no point of reference, but it makes sense if he’s more powerful than before.”

“Oh great!” March let out a yelp as she narrowly avoided another imaginary explosion.

The air reverberated heavily, power thrumming through the dreamscape as the choir sang forth another deadly hymn.

“Ms. Himeko!” Dan Heng shouted over the symphony as more notes began to form overhead, “The choir!”

Himeko quickly grabbed onto her drone, letting her flying weapon pull her out of the way of danger before she responded.

“Already on it!” Answered the mid-air navigator as a thin red laser peeked out of the clouds and marked a target from orbit, prompting a scrambling March to hastily cover her ears. 

Sunday had only a moment to turn skyward as bright blue seared the night sky. An angry, overcharged energy blast the size of a large building crashed down onto the platform, delivering upon them a deafening explosion that drowned out the Order’s song and sent a mushrooming cloud high into the air.

No one was particularly surprised when the smoke cleared to reveal both the conductor and choir completely unharmed, safe between a layer of translucent barrier of gold that served as their shield.

“Of course it has a force field,” March groaned aloud, “Next it’s gonna summon its own personal army!”

“To attack the holy choir…” muttered the Great Septimus, withdrawing his outstretched baton, “Such blasphemy.”

Instead of weaving another verse from his choir, he instead directed his baton upward, as if beckoning something from the sky.

“Come, Order’s chosen!” Sunday cried, “Answer my call! Defend the seat of our holy communion!” 

A thin, metal figure fell from to sky, seemingly from nowhere. It was followed by another. Then another and another until the platform in front the choir was lined with armored yet limp frames.

They were puppets. 

Comprised much like the jointed ensemble that March and Himeko had faced at the Grand Theater before, these were much more austere in appearance. The heavy symbolism was gone, replaced by matching gleaming plates of gold armor fastened over fairly featureless ceramic casing. In lieu of pipe, cup, and bow, the puppet soldiers wielded sword and shields depicting the four pointed halo: a symbol of a dead Aeon.

Sunday swept his baton upward and the artificial legion sprung to life, following his baton as they straightened at attention. They raised their swords high in silent yet unified salute.

“If you still have your objections, feel free to make your case,” Sunday invited as the puppet knights began marching toward them.

Dan Heng and even Himeko directed glares dry enough to evaporate six-phased ice at a certain six-phased ice archer.

March winced against the army’s heavy footfalls, “Oops… Sorry.”

Dan Heng whipped back toward the navigator. His usually level voice was fraught with urgency.

“Where is Mr. Yang and Caelus!? There’s no way we can take a Quasi-Aeon alone!”

“Welt told me he went to get some reinforcements!” Himeko told him. 

She paused, her words abruptly trailing off amidst the resuming hymn of Order.

“And Caelus?” Repeated Dan Heng hotly. March pulled back her bow at the encroaching holy army.

Himeko motioned to sky with her chin, “Look up.”

Dan Heng tore his gaze away from the puppets that were already halfway to them, sparing only a single moment to do so. He immediately found what had captured Himeko’s attention.

A comet fell from the sky, splitting the dark night and leaving a hot orange trail in its wake. Dan Heng followed its arc with calculating eyes, though it wasn’t until he heard the roar of jets that he realized it was careening straight towards them.

“Everyone!” Dan Heng yelled, barely noticing that the projectile split into two just before it reached them, “Get down!”

March felt more than saw the flaming comet descending. She threw herself to the side with a surprised yelp just as the streak of orange grazed mere inches above her head.

A second explosion echoed across the final stage of Penacony as a platform-wide of hellish orange conflagration spread. Puppets flew, some clean off of the platform, as the Great Sepitumus’ defense formation was split as effortlessly as a car speeding through a mere puddle of water.

The harbinger of this scorched earth skidded to a halt in the middle the stage, its plated foot leaving a deep gash in the smooth floor. Mechanical components whirred audibly as it rose to regard the Great Spetimus through a blue visor gleaming coldly behind a golden face plate.

“Tell me why you stand against me? I could give you your salvation,” Sunday addressed the Stellaron Hunter Firefly, “The future you desire.”

The answer he desired wasn’t given in words.

It wasn’t even given by the Stellaron Hunter in front of him.

Rather, it was given from far above, by the sudden crack of a bat.

The color of the world was once again lost in blinding white when a pure fragment of a Stellaron screamed toward the Sunday’s head. It collided against his raised baton with a thunderous boom, crashing against the Choir’s barrier and releasing a shower of arcing sparks.

To the chagrin of everyone watching, it didn’t detonate, instead caught in a grinding deadlock against a barrier of pooling light. Still, metal trembled as Sunday’s golden limbs buckled under the sheer force of the Stellaron Bomb.

The chorus began to glow as it sang in clear empowerment. Whether it be from the Dream, the Stellaron, or both, nobody knew.

With one monumental shove, The Grand Conductor flung the homerun of devastation off course with a jagged swipe of his baton, sending it carving through the (hopefully) empty dreamscape below.

Dan Heng’s gaze trailed upward, finding his friend suspended in midair above them. His slight wonder was quickly betrayed by a growing dread when he finally registered an alarming shade of gold. A dread that was only further amplified when the rumble of something colossal finally exploding below reached their feet.

Like a spell broken, the detonation propelled final stage play straight into its next act. Armored puppets abandoned rank and file, rushing the Express members plus Stellaron Hunter with zealous, bladed fervor.

Firefly suddenly sprung into motion, quick, mechanically precise motions administering gout after gout of flame into the faceplates of the puppets that quickly surrounded her. 

Stifling a grimace at watching his most powerful attack fail, Caelus readied himself, eyes already a piercing gold as he spun his bat above Firefly’s carnage. 

Power coursed through the air as he dove, the blue streak of his bat tinged Stellaron-gold as his downward, two-handed strike surprisingly obliterated a puppet that had just slipped past Firefly’s thermic grip.

It seemed these soldiers of the Order were much, much less durable the ones he had previously fought. Not that he or Firefly particularly minded; They’d take quantity over quality any day.

“Behind!” Caelus yelled as he sprung into a ready stance.

Firefly didn’t even look backward, jutting an armored elbow behind her to shatter a puppet’s torso with a power strike. In turn, she brought her current prisoner, face trapped in her steel vice grip, around the front of her body into the path of Caelus’ already swinging bat. It’s head shattered like a fragile vase against the blue blur of his barrel, freeing her hand just as her thermic lance finished its recharge.

A conical shotgun blast of pure heat shot out of her palm right over Caelus’ shoulder, vaporizing three more adversaries that were approaching from Caelus’ rear.

“Double Play!” Called the voice of a Glamothian girl surprisingly devoid of voice modulation, albeit still muddled with static.

The armored Stellaron Hunter’s already outstretched arm quickly found Caelus’ waiting bat, sparks flying as she dragged her red hot palm across it.

Suddenly Caelus was holding a flaming blue torch, one he immediately put to work as his next bludgeoning strike painted a swath of scorching blue flame.

“That’s new,” Dan Heng said to no one in particular, watching Caelus, with combat prowess the Xianzhou native definitely didn’t remember him having, shred apart an entire legion of soldiers like they were papermaché dolls. 

Not to mention he was doing so in perfect step with who was definitely a known and wanted Stellaron Hunter.

“We’ll make him spill later,” quipped March, already sprinting ahead, “After we beat up god!”

Dan Heng just shook his head, banishing his thoughts behind his brandished spear as he too charged forward into the bedlam.

Caelus summoned his lance as soon as he realized who had joined him, plunging the weapon into the ground to envelope his friends in the preserving flame of Magma Will as soon as they reached him. He shared a quick nod with Firefly who jumped a few paces away, providing a modicum of breathing room as she lured some of the puppets with her blazing flame.

“I really hope that opener wasn’t your only showstopper,” March said, stabbing a puppet that got just a little too close through the chin with an icy arrow.

“Well, I’m kinda out of ideas,” Caelus shot back as he batted down a puppet knight that Firefly had tossed at him, “Dan, duck!”

Dan Heng threw a puppet off the tip of spear as he did so, an honest-to-god hat flying over his head and decapitating a knights puppet behind him a second later. He regarded the flying headwear for just a moment before sweeping out the legs of two more assailants with the haft of his long weapon. Two bolts of six-phased ice rendered them inert the moment they touched the ground.

“New gaze?” Dan Heng observed as the hat reappeared on Caelus’ head.

“Xipe!” Yelled his friend as he leapt aside a downward sword strike. He let his assailant stumble forward as an amber lance of fire pierced through its head a second later.

Dan Heng pole-vaulted over another knight, striking it in the back as he hit the ground, “I’ll need that data.”

Caelus laughed over the cacophony, “After. Do we have a plan?”

A familiar drone suddenly swung into view, several more puppets crumpling as they were gunned down by a full-auto bullet spray.

“Welt is on his way with reinforcements,” Himeko told him through her drone, “Objective 1: We hold out until then. Objective 2: We try and find a way past that shield.”

“Eyes up!” Firefly suddenly yelled.

Caelus turned to see that Sunday had ceased summoning more of his soldiers, once again rhythmically waving his baton.

“Firefly!” He yelled as Himeko’s drone shot upwards in an evasive maneuver, “Over here.”

A quick burst from her jets sent Firefly skidding to the group. She crouched down low just as March 7th pulled a thick sheet of her signature prismatic ice over them, shielding them from the imaginary notes that fell against the frosty dome a moment later.

“I have an idea,” Dan Heng said quickly as notes hammered them from above.

“Go on?” March said with a little non-plussed wince, her glowing hand still pressed flat against her ice shield. 

The data archivist turned toward the suit of armor that was making their usual team huddle just a bit more cramped. 

“Stellaron Hunter—“

“Firefly,” corrected Caelus.

“Firefly,” Dan Heng amended swiftly, “Hit him as fast and hard as you can. It has to be a surprise if this is going to work.”

Her faceplate nodded as she commanded her armor to preemptively vent a bit of excess heat, “Wilco.”

A series of muffled explosions from what was presumably Himeko’s missile barrage rumbled outside, causing a momentary reprieve from the musical assault. It was short lived, however, as March flinched when several swords renewed the assault against her shield. 

“Uh, guys, anytime now,” March called out while warily eyeing a hairline crack spreading across her ice.

Firefly crouched even lower, muscles and servos coiling as her throttled thrusters began spewing flame. The fire flickered harmlessly over the Express members thanks to Caelus’ Magma Will.

“Ready,” she reported, painting a target lock onto the refracted silhouette of Sunday through the prismatic ice.

“On ace,” Dan Heng said, getting a nod from the other trailblazers.

“Three of a kind,” Caelus led, palming the grip of his bat

“Two of pair,” March chirped, loosening her hold over the cracked ice that kept them safe.

“ACE!”  Dan Heng shouted.

Several things happened at once.

March withdrew her hand, the six-phased ice suddenly falling to pieces against the very next sword strike. Caelus pulled the girl out of the soon-to-be blast radius, helping her brace herself as a puppet’s blade shattered against the unblemished steel of the rapidly rising Iron Calvary. 

Flames billowed like ribbons from her chassis as Firefly rocketed into the air, blasting off with such ferocious velocity that every nearby puppet was vaporized from the explosive exhaust alone. She hung in the air for a mere second before blasting straight into a Mach 1 diving kick toward Sunday’s mechanical form.

“BHF: HEAVENLY FIRE!” 

Just as Firefly’s flaming armored boot crashed against Sunday’s shield, Dan Heng sprung upwards with his spear materialized in his tense, reared back arm. It took him less than half a second to find a suitable target.

Let my spear split the sky.

With a near serene breath, Dan Heng’s arm snapped forward.

The jade spear turned missile blurred through the air, passing by Sunday completely undeterred.

It impaled a single Faded Echo of the Choir, pinning to the gilded pedestal that stood behind it and instantly killing it on the spot. While it was merely one of several hundreds, it didn’t really matter. 

Dan Heng had proved his point. He needn’t say anything to his teammates; they read the message of the solitary spear standing amidst rapidly dissipating motes of light loud and clear.

Even with all of this power, Sunday was simply a single consciousness with a singular point of focus. How fitting it was, then, that the Grand Puppeteer couldn’t shield himself and his precious choir at the same time. 

A sudden blast of sonic energy flung Firefly into the air. She disengaged, safely landing in a three point pose nearby.

“Such transgressions…” Sunday muttered, the golden conductor sorely glanced at the now empty pedestal from underneath his winged helm.

With a flick of his baton, the choir resumed its chorus. Though this time something was very different as the hymns amplitude grew and grew until was an ear-shattering, earth-shaking fortissimo. While Firefly seemed unaffected, March and Dan Heng staggered backwards under the sheer mental pressure exerted by a blinding radiant gleam. Even Himeko’s drone wavered.

The Watchmaker’s Legacy quickly appeared on Caelus’ head. He pressed his hand against the flashy accoutrement, tendrils of his Stellaron’s energy weaving into the conduit of memoria in direct opposition to Sunday’s resonance. 

A second, far more vivid shade of gold began lighting the Choir’s platform. By the time he was out of breath, he and his allies could hear their own thoughts again.

“Huge… energy reading!” Himeko managed, blasting her voice over her drone’s speakers, “Brace yourselves!”

Before anyone could even attempt defensive action, something red screeched across the sky over them. A second later, the Harmonious Choir abruptly exploded.

Sunday muttered something as his choir dimmed behind his translucent shield, their tuning focus lost amidst his effort to deflect the blast.

Caelus’ first instinct was to look at Firefly, but when she returned an armored shrug, sharp gold looked to the upward and traced a vapor trail to spot two airborne spades arcing high above. Barely visible against the dark dreamscape sky, he realized they were fighter jets.

Sunday had just been sent reeling via an airstrike.

“Dreammasters?” Firefly posited as she too picked up the flying vehicles in her scanners.

Her question was answered as Himeko’s voice suddenly shouted in relief from her drone.

“Welt!”

A rhythmic chopping sound suddenly captured Caelus’ attention. He whipped around to find a similarly red-shaded helicopter rapidly approaching the battlefield. The rotors grew louder and louder as the pair of jets circled around to cover its landing.

“Everyone, group up!” Dan Heng, pointing his spear at the descending helicopter as he shouted over the noise of engines.

Sunday obviously wasn’t going to take a carpet bombing sitting down a second time, his baton silently flicking upward. The choir responded promptly with a volley of surface to air imaginary blasts. 

The planes rolled and weaved in the air, aborting their strafing run as they attempted to navigate the sudden anti-air fire. Inevitably, a well-timed chord clipped the wing of the first plane, sending it spiraling out of control. Another hit the fuselage of the second and causing it to explode immediately. 

Still, the helicopter safely pulled above the platform in a rolling halt as the planets crashed below. Someone in clanking armor plate leapt out of the cabin and landed with a graceful flourish of his outstretched arm.

A familiar mane of fiery red flowed freely as Argenti, Knight of Beauty, cast what seemed like a glowing red flower toward the Harmonious Choir.

“A rose for you.”

The very moment the shimmering petals touched the surface of the floor, bright pearlescent light erupted. A bramble of thorns and blooming bright roses red and white burst forth, blessed with the robustness of Beauty as they crawled through the ground toward toward the mechanical conductor.

“What farce is this?” Grumbled the Great Septimus as he wrenched his arms from the vines that entangled his mechanical limbs. His baton waved frantically, a futile effort to command whatever was left of his puppet army to free him only to see that they were similarly ensnared in botanical attack.

“Argenti!” Caelus shouted in greeting as the rest of the group joined him. The knight bowed in response.

“Well met, fearless trailblazers,” the Knight of Beauty said, gesturing to his handiwork as the helicopter landed properly, “That should leave them preoccupied, but certainly not long enough for tea.”

“It will do for our purposes,” said a familiar voice.

Caelus turned to see Welt Yang adjusting his glasses as he exited the helicopter cabin. The vehicle itself began fragmenting away as soon as he stepped off, revealing another familiar face that the trailblazers were admittedly less thrilled to see.

“It’s… you,” March said, her bow hand twitching as she eyed the IPC Stoneheart Aventurine with the purest of wary glares, “Here to stab us in the back again?”

“Hold your horses, March,” Welt placated immediately, “Now’s not the time for that. He is here to help.”

March didn’t look entirely convinced, but the giant metal conductor that was rapidly tearing free of the vines that provided their momentary reprieve was a compelling argument.

“I wasn’t kidding when I made a bet on you,” Aventurine said easily, “And a true gambler never leaves the table until all the bets are called.”

Aventurine then turned his glinting magenta toward the Stellaron Hunter among them, “I’m even willing to overlook a certain 9.7 billion credit bounty standing in front of me at the moment.”

Caelus tensed fiercely but relented when Firefly’s helmet shook minutely at him.

Welt was right. They couldn’t turn down any form of help. Not right now.

“How did you find them?” Himeko asked quickly.

Welt opened his hand to reveal the chip Caelus had given him in Dreamflux Reef. The same chip that doubled as a tracking beacon.

“Wasn’t too hard to trace this back to the source,” Welt said, “At least, not for me.”

For a brief second, his eyes glowed an unnatural shade of orange as he said so. Caelus didn’t ponder it, simply adding it to the growing list of things (that now included planes and helicopters) the mysterious Express member could do. 

“Sunday can only shield or attack. I don’t think he can do both at the same time,” Dan Heng said abruptly, “Furthermore, it seems if he has to concentrate on blocking a strong attack, he can not defend the choir at the same time.”

“I see,” Welt said calmly, casting his calculating gaze upon their godly adversary, “Then we focus on whittling down that choir by splitting his attention as much as we can.”  

A frustrated grunt laced with reverb interrupted their brief conversation. Vines whipped and snapped as Sunday raised his once more shining baton high, summoning yet another wave of armored puppets to to begin hacking at his leafy fetters.

Argenti took a nonchalant step forward, summoned his great spear, and flicked the bladed weapon across one of the many blooming roses as if it were a fuse. 

Every flowering rose lining the vines suddenly burgeoned with growth as they exploded into sparkling light.

“I believe that is our cue,” Argenti said, a knightly helmet closing itself around his head as the golden conductor already began to recover.

“Come now, friends,” his muffled voice rallied, “Let me carry you to battle on the tides of Beauty!”

Without another word, the gallant knight charged with Dan Heng following closely behind. Firefly shot up into the air, coming crashing down on the renewed puppets with her signature flaming kick.

“Hey IPC guy,” March shouted, “Aren’t you gonna do your really flashy unlimited money throwing thing?”

Aventurine chuckled as he idly tossed a dull, cracked gemstone in his hand, “Well, unfortunately without my cornerstone, I’m afraid I can only offer—“

A gloved, disembodied hand shot out from a cluster of aether data particles, snatching the piece of Preservation right out from under the Stoneheart’s nose.

“You are NOT dragging us to ELO hell,” came the cross, static voice of a Punklorde Hacker.

Silver Wolf tossed the fist-sized Aventurine into the air, sending it spinning as she snapped her fingers. When it returned to her grip, it was whole again.

“Cae-boy,” She shouted as the disembodied arm tossed the stone to him, “Sharing is caring!”

Caelus caught the dull cornerstone, the lance at his side glowing in resonance. He struck the gem against his weapon, channeling a combination of the Preservation’s Magma Will and his Stellaron’s own boundless energy.

Amazingly, orange bled into green as the gem’s lustrous turquoise sheen returned.

Without warning, Silver Wolf’s arm snagged the gem and returned it to its wide-eyed owner.

“Now get your ass back in the game, gacha-guy!”

The IPC representative stared blankly at the now fully repaired cornerstone in his hand, his magenta eyes rapidly darting between Belobog’s Legacy and the now empty space Silver Wolf had occupied just a mere moment before for a full second of disbelief. 

Then he started laughing.

“I take back what I said about that lance, Mr. Stellaron,” Aventurine mused, his lengthening coattails billowing as the schemer suddenly levitated off the ground. Both his cornerstone and his body began to shine until his lopsided grin was hidden by a glittering stone mask. He clasped his hand shut around his nameshake, bringing his hand closer to his chest as a pillar of blue light ignited the gemstone core in his chest.

A coin flicked into his grip, his mineral skin now shimmering with aventurescence, “Well, with a favor like that, I’ll definitely see this bet through to the end!”

Aventurine of Strategems flew into the air, cracking open his golden vault in the sky with a grand, wide armed gesture.

“All… for the Amber Lord!”

Caelus and March indulged in the sight of Sunday’s baton scrambling to raise his choir-wide shield as raining monetary destruction crushed droves of hapless knight puppets. 

“Y’know, it’s a lot cooler now that we’re not the ones getting pelted,“ March said, snapping a quick photo with her camera before testing the hard light string of her bow, “You think they’re real gold?”

“Knowing the IPC, probably,” Caelus said, already alit with his lance’s flame. He glanced over to the war zone where Dan Heng and Argenti were already carving through the puppets with their martial prowess alone.

He turned back to March with a vicious grin beneath his shining golden eyes, “Last one there is doing the dishes this week!”

March scowled as Caelus rocketed off, “That’s not fair and you know it.”

As March chased after the flaming trailblazer, Welt took two steps forward, black arcs of energy cracking around his cane—

“Welt,” Himeko called suddenly, “Save your strength.”

Welt was going to ask why, but then he traced the Navigator’s concerned gaze to the newest member of the Astral Express.

He felt more than saw the Stellaron contamination that clung to Caelus like a second coat.

“Just in case,” continued Himeko.

Welt nodded at Himeko, switching course and pouring his already manifested energy into a different, less gravitationally destructive outcome.

Several clusters of digital matter began collecting in the air above them.

Red light glinted off the older man’s glasses, “How many drones do you think you can control at once, Himeko?”

Himeko’s response was interrupted by a large explosion.

Firefly somersaulted off Sunday’s shield that had impeded her flaming assault, touching down onto the ground where a trio of puppets already had their swords raised high. They never fell, however, as a golden coin curved unnaturally through the air to decapitate all three.

“Hunter!” The masked Aventurine shouted, catching the boomeranging coin between two fingers, “Lend a hand!”

As the powered-up Stoneheart flicked the coin in the air with this thumb, Firefly immediately understood what he wanted.

Wordlessly, she shot up with a quick burst of flame, her thermic weapon already charging behind her reared-back fist. Just as the coin reached the zenith of its arch, a flaming white-steel gauntlet slammed into it like a meteor.

A gigaton of thermal force fired the coin like a canon shot, the once innocuous piece of metal carving a bright yellow streak through the bedlam as its curious tracking property sent it unpredictably zagging from puppet-head to puppet-head like an explosive emulation of a pinball machine.

The upper torsos of over two dozen puppets exploded before the hyperlethal currency made a jagged, unexpected course correction right into Sunday’s unprepared forehead.

The moment the conductor’s gilded head jerked backward from the sucker punch, a ready March 7th’s bowstring snapped forward, letting fly another prismatic arrow straight toward the choir. Unlike her previous six-phased projectiles, this one grew and grew until it detonated midair. The ensuing hailstorm pelted the unprotected choir, dispersing a number of Faded Echoes as Sunday regained his bearings.

“Why you—“

That was as far as his grumbling got as not one, not two, but sixteen quad-limbed drones buzzed into view like an angry swarm of oversized metal wasps, fifteen of them bearing the same red-sheen indicative of… whatever Welt’s power was. Soon the Harmonious Choir’s order was competing against the sharp staccato of gunfire.

The Great Septimus became very busy trying to swat the offending robots out of the air, golden light dispersing as he sacrificed the brunt of his personal defense to shield the choir from a renewed artillery storm of IPC-branded coins. 

The flames of preservation scorched ceramic plate char-black as Caelus caught a quick glimpse of a jade spear and crimson lance impaling the last two puppets left dancing on the stage. Gold eyes scanned his surroundings from underneath his new hat and he made a split second decision. 

Letting his lance disappear, he thrust his now free-hand into the air.

White-steel blurred by as an iron grip clamped around his forearm, pulling him upward and toward the metal conductor’s head. Their advance did not go unnoticed, forcing Firefly to swerve under a sweeping baton.

“Now!” Caelus yelled.

A fierce amount of force that would have probably sheared the arm off of any other mortal man sent Caelus hurtling toward Sunday’s unshielded head.

The Stellaron roared as Caelus swung his flaming bat in a vicious sweeping uppercut straight into Sunday’s chin. The neck-snapping impact shattered the conductor’s composure, the large machine rearing back as Caelus continued riding his ridiculous momentum well above Sunday’s winged crown.

Caelus’ bat vanished as he reached the height of his arc, the trailblazer soon hanging in the air amidst a tumbling cascade of coins and dice as Aventurine seized his opportunity to lay total waste to the Harmonious Choir proper.

For Firefly, everything went still the moment she captured a freeze-frame of a dreadfully familiar snarl twisting Caelus’ face end-to-end.

Then the air began to burn.

Caelus used every ounce of anger he had kept buried until this very moment, every little sliver of rage that he felt toward the gilded man beneath him, to wring every drop of power he could from his captive Stellaron without losing control.

And he poured it right into his fist.

“SUNDAAAAY!”

A glowing fist met memoria-tempered steel and everything erupted into gold.

Not even Firefly, with her visor built specifically to find Swarm Stings that could feast on the blinding surface of stars, could see past the auric explosion a degree away from a Stellaron disaster.

Any lingering six-phased ice disintegrated. Aventurine’s falling assault flew everywhere, whether it was scattered against the Choir or sent straight into the sky. Dan Heng and Argenti cluing to their anchored spears just to keep steady from the sheer shockwave. Himeko’s and Welt’s drones veered off course from air turned violently turbulent.

Firefly spotted Caelus flying out of the cloud of dust and debris. A second later, trailing flame immediately made a beeline for him. She felt a heavy thud as his back collided against her armored chest, catching by the arms as she briskly descended.

Her audio easily receptors picked up his voice.

“How’d I look?”

Firefly wondered if he could sense her frown through her helmet. He probably could.

“Angry.”

He let out a morose (or resigned) chuckle as the couple touched back onto the ground.

“Caelus, your arm,” Himeko said as the team regrouped, a rare current of alarm in her usually placid voice.

Firefly had noticed the state of his appendage well before the navigator drew attention to it. His right arm, presumably the arm he had just used to detonate a quasi-Stellaron Bomb right in Sunday’s face, was injured. Golden liquid bubbled forth from a web of fissures, lining his arm like a worn statue.

The members of the Astral Express looked at the odd wound with a mixture of surprise and concern. Firefly shared none of it.

It was an unnatural wound for a human, but a fairly normal one for a person built as a receptacle.

“He’s fine,” Firefly said firmly, even if she herself couldn’t tear her sunset eyes off the dimming lifeblood that slicked her right gauntlet, “It’s nothing… new.”

She would have time to fuss over him after they survived this. And from the sound of churning gears coming from the settling cloud of gold motes and smoky dust, their ordeal was far from over.

Sunday righted himself with a groaning slowness, pushing his metal torso up with his free hand. A hairline crack ran down the side of his inorganic face as an entire wing of his crown crumbled off to the ground. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding!” March said, pulling her bow taut with a tired huff.

“With the amount of power Mr. Sunday has collected, I doubt he would go down that easily,” Welt muttered with a sagely weariness.

Dan Heng said nothing, lotus light pooling at his feet. His coat shimmered into flowing robes as jade horns extended from his head to crown him a Vidyadhara Elder. A translucent spear appeared in one hand while an orb of light manifested in his other.

The Express members remained silent, knowing full well the gravity reflected in his choice. Argenti had an appraising look in his eye, no doubt ready to praise his hidden beauty if the situation was just little less dire.

On the other hand, if Aventurine’s current form had an eyebrow, it would be raised.

“Here I am, poor little me giving it my all,” he whined a little facetiously, “And you’re just now deciding not to pull your punches?”

The scion who inherited the mantle of Imbibitor Lunae cast an unamused glance at the IPC Stoneheart.

“I do not like assuming this form,” was all Dan Heng said.

No further words could be exchanged as the Great Septimus’ baton began to dance once more.

“With these 107,336 notes,” Sunday’s voice echoed, rising as he bellowed across the skies, “I solemnly invite you to join the glorious chorus and ascend to the heavens!”

Light shined from his raised baton at his last word. Pieces of the puppets that the Express had strewn across the grand stage suddenly dissolved, rays of pale holy gold shooting up into the sky and coalescing high above in a whirling vortex of light.

Caelus’ expression darkened as his bat appeared in his now bloody grip.

“Round two it is,” he muttered as he stepped forward, Dan Heng following close behind with a similar, steely expression.

“Wait!” Firefly said suddenly as alarms blared in HUD. She had only a second to look upwards at the glowing red target outlining the vortex in the sky before the heavens, quite literally, opened up.

Arrows of light fell, pouring out of the sky as a hammering rain of divine will.

Aventurine snapped his fingers in an unconcerned fashion, erecting a building sized shield in the shape of a teal-yellow spade. As intimidating as the barrage was, the projectiles plinked off of the Preservation powered barrier as if they were harmless pieces of hail.

It was what came after the storm of arrows faded that captured everyone attention.

Flocks upon flocks of rejuvenated Faded Echoes, flying free from their podiums, spread their wings of pure feathered light as they poured from the sky. So dense were their numbers that they blotted even the stars from view. Some hung high in the sky while others descended on damaged and dirty pedestals, once again ready to resume their chorus as if nothing had happened just moments before.

“Oh great…” March groaned, seemingly at her wits end as her shoulders deflated.

Neither Caelus nor Firefly said a word, their eyes affixed to the horde of puppets that writhed in the sky in a way that made both of their stomachs tighten in a knot.

It was far, far too similar to something both of them had no desire to ever see again.

“I have humored you enough!” Sunday yelled, prompting his new army to release a second deluge of holy rain, “Now witness the true might of the collective memoria of a hundred thousand souls!”

As the arrows once again slammed into his shield, Aventurine simply gestured to the sky.

Except this time, nothing really happened.

Aventurine’s mask looked between his stone hand, the sky that was sorely filling with gold that was definitely not his, and back to his hand. It wasn’t hard to imagine his furrowed expression.

“Well,” said Aventurine, “That’s a bit of a problem.” 

A holographic control panel appeared at Himeko’s manicured fingertips. Caelus could read the big red backwards error sign from where he stood.

“I can’t connect to my satellites either,” Himeko observed, “Sunday must have completely saturated the area with his own memoria.”

Memoria.

Caelus blinked as a thought struck him.

“I have an idea,” Caelus said suddenly.

“OK. Usually your ideas are really bad,” March said, “But right now I don’t think we have a choice.”

“March,” Welt warned, “Not the time.”

Caelus ignored them, turning to read Himeko’s pensive expression instead.

“Explain,” Himeko said.

“I have a conduit for memoria on my head and this system’s second biggest battery in my chest,” Caelus said quickly, “I should be able to pull off something like he can.”

“Do you see Sunday… or what’s left of him?” Firefly shot back, “How are you going to control that much energy from the Stellaron?”

Caelus easily read between her lines.

Without losing yourself.

“I don’t know,” Caelus said. He wasn’t going to lie to her, “But it’s this or Sundays forever.”

Welt stepped forward, “I’ll make sure he doesn’t go too far, Miss Firefly. You have my word.”

Despite his assurance, Caelus could still feel the pure trepidation that bled freely through the seams of her unmoving armor.

“No gamble worth taking comes without risk,” Aventurine added as another volley of divine rain pelted his spade barrier, “Besides, this isn’t going to hold forever.”

“Allow me, good sir,” said Argenti politely, slamming the pommel of his spear into ground. A statue of a shield appeared and reinforced the barrier with the light of Beauty.

“Huh, maybe it will,” Aventurine mused, “But still, I’m not standing here all day.”

Golden eyes locked with the cool blue of her visor in silent askance. A metallic sigh echoed from her vocalizer an eternal second later.

“Just… be careful.”

A wave of false bravado tugged his lips upward into an uneasy grin, “I’m always careful.”

A silver helmet shook almost imperceptibly, but said nothing more.

“So, how exactly are you going to do this?” March 7th asked, “Like, do you have a Stellaron on off switch or something?”

Caelus steadily breathed outward.

In truth, ever since the very first waking moment he had woken up in the vault of Herta’s Space Station, Caelus had always been holding something back. The instinct to resist the whispers, to push down the terrifying wellspring of power that hummed beneath the wall of his chest, had been ingrained within him far before he knew what a Stellaron was. Even when he shattered Sunday’s face with his bare hand, it had taken him considerably more effort to keep the rest of the World Cancer at bay than to unleash the fragment of power in his hand. 

So, in response to March 7th’s question, he found he had a very honest answer.

“Yeah, I kinda do.”

Then, almost like relaxing a muscle he knew he always had but had never used…

Caelus let the Stellaron free.

Several of their motley crew were nearly blown off their feet as Caelus exploded in light, violently lurching forward with a strangled gasp that sent his spittle flying. Searing pain flared through his body as he felt a million white-hot volts of energy arc through every single one of his artificial cells. To the Express members, it was a painfully familiar sight.

“Caelus!” Firefly screamed in alarm, her armored legs already in motion when the hilt of a crimson spear suddenly blocked her path.

A furious visor burned a hole into the helmet of the Knight of Beauty that had halted her.

“It is clear you two share a bond,” Argenti said, “So let the blossom of your faith take root.”

Welt Yang took two steps forward, undeterred by the violent force being emitted. A hand crackling with red-black energy closed around the trailblazers’ shoulder as Welt pulled his staggering form steady.

“Control it!” Welt yelled over the roar of the bleeding Stellaron, “Mold it into something you know you can use!”

Strained bloodshot eyes, burning bright with gold, barely registered the presence anchoring his shoulder. But it was just enough that his mind latched onto the words that were barely audible over the world-deafening screeching of unfettered destruction.

With an agonizing cry, Caelus clamped a mental fist around the flailing tendrils of entropy attempting to shred him from within and pulled them into submission.

There was only one thing that came to mind that fit Welt’s criteria. Only one thing that Caelus knew would never fail him even if the sun stopped rising and the stars went dark.

Welt released Caelus, the piercing light fading as it was forced into another form by a trailblazer’s sheer force of will. It darkened until only the golden light of his eyes could be seen.

A shaking hand suddenly thrust out from his labored, doubled-over form, straight toward a figure armored in white.

Firefly’s breath caught in her throat at what seemed to be an odd gesture to everyone except the girl herself.

She knew what he needed; she had been providing it for him ever since they first met.

Her white gauntlet reached out, passing a single spark between their hands.

And Caelus ignited.

A vibrant, almost wild shade of gold overtook the Express’ side of the stage platform, rapidly overtaking the paler shade of gold emitted by the manifestation of Sunday’s holy dream. 

“Even now you resist?” Sunday observed, a begrudging disbelief tinging his words as his chorus once again began their song, “Admirable, if futile.”

His golden baton began weaving the verse of his Faded Echoes, coalescing the Order’s energy into a spiraling mass of energy at his front.

“Oh I don’t like the look at that,” Aventurine muttered from behind their shared shield, “Anytime, trailblazer!”

Said trailblazer straightened, staring dead ahead at Sunday as a familiar brimmed hat appeared in his open palm. Then he tilted his head, flashing a somewhat pained grin at Firefly from behind golden flame.

“Complete Combustion Caelus… has a good ring to it…. Yeah?”

Despite everything, Firefly bit back a chuckle.

“How does it feel? Are you OK?” 

“It’s… loud,” he managed, “…But he’s louder.”

He motioned toward the Grand Conductor standing opposed to them just as Sunday released his spiraling spear of light. Without warning, he stepped in front of Aventurine’s shield, straight into the path of the barreling, building-sized drill of a projectile.

Golden flame flared against golden light as Caelus caught the attack with an outstretched hand, causing a flash of light as a massive amount of memorial dispersed through the air. Faded Echoes dived from above, intent to swarm the blazing Stellaron. 

They were met by the swift maw of a jadewater dragon. 

“Do what you need to do!” Dan Heng shouted, guiding the orb at his fingertips gracefully through the air.

“Yeah, we’ll handle this!” March yelled from atop the ascending dragon’s back, her pink head of hair sticking out sorely against the turquoise green jadewater. 

The Knight of Beauty let out a boisterous chuckle as he summoned two more statues to his side, “Such bravery!”

Six-phased ice cluster arrows and four-limbed drones flew through the air as Argenti leapt forward, using a well-placed dice courtesy of their allied Stoneheart as a midair platform to gain even more altitude. His spear danced through the air, trailing rose-red through the angelic Echoes alongside the spectral strikes of his two Speartip statues.

Memoria tinged fragmentum gold bubbled in the air around him before swirling into the depths of the hat in his grip. Soon, the churning collection of shapeless, raw memoria he held in the palm of his hand demanded an answer; directions to be shaped, weaved, and molded. 

His gaze wandered momentarily to the swarm of angels in the sky to the armored warrior that had still yet to leave his side. A recent memory flickered across his mind and Caelus suddenly had his answer.

Firefly had called it a burden.

So Caelus would take that burden and make it their strength.

The golden fire enveloping his figure burned even brighter as he channeled the Stellaron’s energy into the Watchmaker’s Legacy, wreathing the hat in his flame as Caelus began to spin.

He turned once, then twice, flinging the hat into the air with a herculean spinning toss. The hat twirled like a whirlwind as it sailed higher and higher, climbing into the sky until it was nothing but a twinkling light amidst the stars.

“May our dreams soar like fireflies to a flame.”

It ex ploded like a firework, casting several trailing tails of orange that fell like meteors back onto the surface of the dream.

Firefly was about to question both the effectiveness of his maneuver and his curious choice of words when her eyes immediately snapped to a little motion on the radar map in the corner of her HUD. 

It was little green dot, blinking closer with every pulse of her passive radar. It was followed by another little green dot. Then another and another until her radar was reading at least forty of them.

The former soldier of Glamoth was suddenly lost with confusion.

Why were her systems suddenly recognizing friendly signatures?

Her sunset eyes shot back to the sky, and it was only when she saw that the trailing, unfading orange from Caelus’ hat that was not only still streaking across the sky but actively curving toward them did she realize what he had done.

On the verge of overwhelming anticipation, Firefly hailed the oncoming meteor storm by broadcasting her personal callsign over a secure frequency that only she knew.

It was returned not a second later, along with the status and vitals of forty other call signs that suddenly filled her vision.

Firefly AR26710 blinked sudden tears out of her eyes as the first Iron Calvary units touched down on the platform in a pillar of flame. They looked like they had stepped straight out of her memories, the only difference being the slight golden sheen that shimmered over the surface of their armor.

“A diffuse Stellaron distortion? Tempered with memoria?” Welt casually observed, glancing at Caelus as more suits of armor landed around them, “Impressive.”

“Something like that,” Caelus said, his words an odd measured cadence amidst his sheer concentration, “You got any more firepower in that cane of yours?”

Welt knew his observation was little off its mark, but didn’t bother to correct him when he tapped his cane on the floor.

Constructs pieced themselves together with red light, quickly forming a row of what looked like some sort of anti-air weaponry.

“Really, Welt?” Himeko said, though her attention was still focused on managing her legion of drones dogfighting Echoes in the sky, “I’m going to have you start doing repairs on the Express at this rate.”

“Nothing Cognitive Reassembly creates is ever permanent,” Welt said simply, “My eyesight isn’t what it used to be. The targeting is yours, Himeko.”

As a dirge of spitting gunfire combatted the ever-growing symphony in the sky, Caelus smiled as he turned back to Firefly.

“They’ll follow you,” he said to the still stricken Stellaron Hunter, “Take back the skies. Leave Sunday to us.”

“Those are still some odds,” Aventurine piped up between crushing a few oncoming Echoes between his oversized dice, “Even for a veteran better like me.”

Firefly broke out of her slight stupor, turning back to the Stoneheart with somewhat of a dark chuckle escaping her lips. 

“These odds?” She questioned as her helmet tilted up at the swarm above her.

Without warning, armor plates hissed as they peeled back, releasing billowing flame that quickly turned from hot orange to her signature shade of teal-green. The guard over her visor split, revealing the sharp blue beneath as two energy swords suddenly appeared in her hands.

Caelus could feel an ancient flame ignite from behind her helmet as she turned back to face them seemingly beaming with pride. 

“Stoneheart, we were born for these odds!”

Two magnificent pinions of green flared from her back as she achieved her Complete Combusion, blasting off into the sky with the rest of the iron legion taking flight after her.

Forty one fully armored Fyrefly units flew in well-practiced formation, lines of orange flame following a proud streak of teal as they soared headfirst into the Echo-choked sky.

An old war cry that Firefly had thought she had long forgotten came to her unbidden. She happily lent the old words, born from the resolve of countless legions long past, her roaring voice.

“LIVE TO FIGHT!”

Firefly’s baited breath gave way to an inexplicable fullness as a frequency left silent for so long was suddenly filled with the bellowing echo of voices long lost. 

“FIGHT TO LIVE!”

The sky became a war zone, bright flashes of thermic discharges peppering the surface below as burning steel clashed with holy light. Caelus only spared a moment to watch a flashing aurora dance through the sky, admiring the dazzling novas Firefly’s blades left for only a second before turning his attention back to their main target.

“I’ll try and loosen Sunday’s grip on the atmosphere,” Caelus said to Aventurine, his bat appearing at his side now wreathed in the same fire that enveloped his entire body, “When that happens, hit ‘em with the All or Nothing.”

Aventurine chuckled behind his mask, “I really need a better catchphrase for that.”

Caelus gave him a shrug, “It works.”

Then he vanished, suddenly blasting across the stage as if had been shot from a cannon. 

Sunday barely had half a second to register the flaming trailblazer that literally appeared in his vision as an earth shattering blow struck against his raised baton. A fierce golden shockwave swept across the platform.

“How noisy,” Sunday grumbled, his choir singing as he pressed back against Caelus’ bat.

The blaze around Caelus doubled in intensity as the Stellaron within him rose to the challenge. He pushed off with a fiery blast, twisting his body to avoid being hit by a symphony of imaginary notes. His flames flared again, propelling him like a jet engine back toward the conductor.

Two Stellarons, one of fire and one of light, exchanged a series of blows. The fabric of the dream blurred and fragmented every time bat met baton.

“Why do you continue to stand against me?” Sunday said, the calmness of his voice at great odds with the ferocity of his blows, “Why must you reject the paradise that I offer you?”

“Because a cage, no matter how beautiful it is, is a cage!” Caelus yelled back, once again putting his real answer in the every raging swing of his bat.

An explosion echoed overhead as a fallen Iron Cavalry detonated, taking several hundred echoes with it. Sunday used the brief distraction to flick Caelus away, his baton continuing to bounce through the air and release a golden shockwave with every beat. 

“Even so, the weak don’t know who to turn to,” Sunday continued, “That’s why I must guide them.”

A dragon descended from the sky, catching Caelus on its back as the serpent weaved between the golden waves that split the air.

“Got you!” Caelus heard Dan Heng from below as he rose to his feet. He quickly felt a hand pull him back down, protected from his flames by a shimmering coat of six-phased ice.

“Hold on!” March shouted in his ear as the air whipped at their faces. It was his only warning as their steed sharply dipped downward, narrowly avoiding several winged Echoes flying straight at them. Just as they zoomed past, a nameless Calvary member tackled the group midair, immolating them in a short burst of flame before it jetted off to its next target.

A new barrage notes from the choir littered the sky in front of them as the Dan Heng’s dragon circled back around to Sunday’s front. Caelus glanced at March as she pulled back her bow.

“I’m going to throw a curve ball,” he said, hand outstretched, “Can you give me a fake out?”

“You got it,” March said, the prismatic frost at the tip of her arrow rapidly expanding as she adjusted her target, “Just try not to melt my ice.”

Caelus chuckled, “No promises.”

Holding out his hand as far from March as he could, Caelus manifested a fragment of the Stellaron. This time the piece of calamity rapidly caught aflame in his hand, creating a localized inferno that nearly obscured the entire right side of his body as it grew.

The Great Septimus craned his head to the two lights shining from atop the airborne dragon as the serpent dove steeply toward him. He beckoned his choir once again.

“Even if they are lost, you don’t have that right, Sunday!” Shouted Caelus as the dragon descended, pitching the Stellaron-powered fireball amidst a storm of choir notes. 

“Yeah, they never asked for you to take that choice away!” March loudly affirmed, sending her charged arrow flying toward the choir. 

Sunday raised his shield to block, expecting the full brunt of the hurtling golden firebomb.

Naturally, he was somewhat horrified when he realized just a second too late that the two projectiles were curving midair, their paths crossing momentarily as they seemingly swapped trajectories.

An arrow of half-melted ice harmlessly clinked against his shield as the flaming stellaron bomb that was never aimed at him crashed into his far-less protected choir.

The platform rocked violently as ensuing explosion bathed the auditorium, no, the entire dream in Caelus’ shade of gold. A cascade of fire swept over the entire left side of the choir, instantly immolating any Faded Echo caught in its path. Those that escaped that fate faired no better as a good chunk of the ornate structure literally melted off under the intense heat. 

“Then why do they sleep? They yearn for a paradise without pain. Without suffering.” Said Sunday, his voice finally beginning to rise behind dust that had barely settled, “Why must you continue deny this perfect world!?”

His answer came in the form of a sparkling crimson lance. 

“Why, because the truest of beauty can lie in imperfection!” Argenti said as his lance struck against Sunday’s baton-formed barrier, “To forsake imperfection is to forsake one’s very humanity!” 

Sunday swung his own arm at the airborne knight only for the armored warrior to disengage willingly, though he did leave behind a parting gift.

A second rose erupted into another thorny bramble as it struck, crawling through the open spaces of his mechanical limb and rendering it useless.

The bellows of a draconic roar echoed above as the dragon flung Caelus from its back, summoning a familiar amber lance as he leapt into the air. A hailstorm of ice covered his bold maneuver, clashing with the few reactionary notes of the symphony that still remained.

To the Great Septimus’ great confusion, the trailblazer hung steadily in the air. That confusion turned to bitter concern when the trailblazer lifted his weapon high, toward a rapidly descending bolt of azure that incinerated any Echo in its path and split the dreamscape clouds in twain.

The orbital strike of the Astral Navigator struck the Lance of Preservation head on, erupting the weapon into a volcanic pillar of swirling golden flame that set the lingering memoria in the air completely ablaze.

Caelus had set the sky on fire.

Sunday’s attention was ripped from the spectacle when he heard the snap of fingers, suddenly finding four stone dice hurtling into his vision. By the time he swatted away the Stoneheart’s attack with his baton, Caelus’ free fall had turned into a steep dive. The sheer golden inferno at the end of his weapon turned his whole body into a flaming missile as he pushed all of his orbital-strike-charged power into a Lance of Preservation turned instrument of pure destruction.

Just as he prepared to conduct his shield, the Great Septimus heard a voice that was definitely not the trailblazer’s as the sky above him suddenly opened wide with a glittering metal avalanche.

“IT’S ALL OR NOTHING!”

With half his choir turned to ash, the other half being buried by gold coins, and his only free limb marred by vines, Sunday’s near non-existent defense crumpled like paper as the trailblazer crashed into his torso with the power of a meteor traveling just shy of the speed of light.

Everything around them came to a near standstill as a newborn star lit up the skies of the Sweet Dream for a few bright seconds. Faded Echoes froze mid flight, bringing the battle in the sky to a sudden and jarring halt as manifestations of memoria were left bereft of their conductor’s direction. Even the constant gunfire from Welt and Himeko’s fortified turret platform ceased.

Firefly’s advanced optics were the first to see the faint silhouette of the trailblazer’s coat as the light finally faded.

Caelus stood tall, breathing heavily amidst a surface scorched an unrecognizable black. His body still flickered with golden flame, the flames reflecting off the short jagged crags of newly formed fragmentum that sprouted from the fissures left in his wake. 

The flaming lance that had created this scene of utter destruction was pointed fiercely at the Great Septimus collapsed over his oversized lectern. A huge, scorched crater dented his chest; what was once smooth plating was charred and warped with fragments of metal falling free. 

Sunday’s mechanical body groaned as his head moved to look down at the defiant gold casting a scathing glow beneath him.

“The trailblaze will never yield to your Order.”

At first, only silence answered. 

“Is this your final answer?” Sunday said, the Great Septimus’ porcelain expression unreadably pursed, “Can you really not be swayed?”

“Yeah,“ said Caelus. 

A lick of flame, not warm orange but cold gold, spiraled across the surface of the amber lance intent to preserve the free will of all dreamers.

“But, for the record, I just hate your guts.”

To the surprise of all except the molten knight far in the sky, Caelus thrust forward.

To the surprise of everyone, the sharpened piece of amber never found its target.

A mechanical hand creaked against what was supposed to be the final coup-de-grace, holding the flaming weapon shaking in gritted frustration with a small golden barrier. 

“Then our differences can not be reconciled,” Sunday announced, regarding Caelus’ infernally crossed expression with all the solemnity of a preacher as he raised his other hand toward the heavens.

A beam of light purer than anything that had come before it lanced straight into the sky, sparking the idle Faded Echoes to spring into sudden motion.

Caelus leapt back, gritting his teeth as he avoided being skewered by another volley of light arrows from the winged memoria that had taken holy flight once more.

“Regrettable, but our final talks have concluded,” Sunday declared, “If you truly believe that you are just…Then sever my path with your own hands!”

Frustration turned to alarm as Caelus felt the pressure exerted by the latent memoria in the air suddenly rise. Metal slid against metal as Sunday’s large torso began to rotate at the waist. 

“Caelus!” 

His eyes flicked skyward, toward the panicked voice that had called out to him in warning. He quickly found the source of Firefly’s immediate distress.

“All the work of creation has been completed.”

The flocks of Faded Echoes had stopped attacking. Instead, they ascended higher and higher upwards, ignoring the still fighting armored suits of Iron Calvary that flew through their numbers.

It was when he finally noticed that the change in direction was not random, that the memoria-born angels were interlocking wings to form giant sacred rings that crowned the very sky, that his sense of alarm bottomed into dread. 

This was no mere migration; this was the unified pilgrimage of all 107,336 souls.

“The inevitable day has arrived.”

Caelus turned back at the loud heavy clang of something monumental locking into place, finding himself facing not a dilapidated conductor, but the enormous visage of a face that took up the divine construct’s entire torso. 

Sunday’s closed-eye expression was unmarred and unblemished as beckoning arms extended from the side of this new head; the serenity of its countenance was at great odds with the furious energy that hummed through the air.

The Great Septimus, The Harmonious Choir was no more.

For it had been reborn.

“Rejoice, for The Embryo of Philosophy will reshape for us all of reality!”

For the first time since the Astral Express had stepped foot on this final stage of Penacony, Sunday’s calm facade gave way to the fervent rage of a god scorned. His very words were charged with such palpable weight that it crashed against their minds even after having initially overcome his tuning power.

Shaking off his own wince, Caelus’ simmering anger went momentarily forgotten as instinct kicked him into motion.

“Firefly!” He shouted into the air as he beat a hasty retreat.  

Firefly didn’t even respond, sending her remaining comrades desperately flying toward the ringed formations in the sky. She herself careened in the opposite direction, the green flaming aurora that powered her Complete Combustion billowing through the air as she shot toward Sunday with her blades extended.

“DEATHSTAR OVERLOAD!” 

Her thrusters fully blazed with the force of a small space frigate, pouring green flame across the stage as searing blades slammed into the two mechanical arms that had crossed in front of the sleeping portrait seemingly in prayer. 

Firefly breathed out shaky disbelief when she realized that her attack, the same attack that had once spilled the end of a planet, barely left a dent.

“Oh fallen Aeon,” Sunday invoked, seemingly ignoring the steel warrior pushing against his arms as his zealous words cut through the dream like a knife, “May I honor you...”

“Everybody regroup now!” Came Himeko’s immediate command, blasted from every drone still hovering on the battlefield before they dissipated back into imaginary energy.

Firefly didn’t need to be told twice as she blasted off with a thrust of her jets. She sped toward a waving Caelus, grabbing his outstretched arm as they rocketed toward the others.

“On the first day, grant Truth…”

A shining, four-pointed halo materialized into being, a concerning mirror of the growing halo in the sky. 

Stellaron Hunters current and former came to a skidding stop just as ‘vitals lost’ alerts intruded on Firefly’s vision. She didn’t even have to inform Caelus, whose scanning eyes were already watching the rest the dream-born Calvary rapidly erode into sparkling memoria from the opposing spiritual pressure being exerted by the massive ringed halo.

“How far did they get?” Caelus asked as he watched the last suit of armor vanish.

“They didn’t even make it within 200 meters,” Firefly reported glumly, the light of her Complete Combustion fading as she finished her bleak observation.

The couple exchanged silent frowns; there was writing on the wall (or sky) that neither openly acknowledged.

“On the second day, grant Calendar…”

Light poured from the heavens, the dark skies beginning to bleed a radiant gold like the rising of the sun.

Dan Heng’s dragon faded as it touched down next to the group, March 7th quickly hopping off before it completely disappeared.

“I don’t know about you, but I think it’s a really bad thing when the overtly religious bad guy starts chanting,” March said, though any humor in her statement was lost in panicked delivery.

“We’re working on it,” Dan Heng muttered, though his own concern was belayed by his pursed breath.

“On the third day, grant Language…”

The arms of the Embryo extended outward, even more rays of light pouring through he construct of divinity as a second layer of its own halo came into being.

Caelus looked at Himeko and Dan Heng, shaking his head mentally when he found they were still at work behind their eyes. 

There was no time for anything clever.

“Aventurine, give me a shield.”

There was no fancy maneuver, no snap or snazzy gesture; The Stoneheart simply raised his hand and a large spade shield formed in front of their group. The cornerstone phalanx was wide enough to shield all of them.

“It’s as big as I can make it,” said Aventurine said as Caelus pressed his hand against the translucent barrier. He felt the familiar energies of preservation surge against his fingertips.

He could work with this.

“On the fourth day, grant Value…”

Tears of pure glowing gold leaked from the Embryo’s shut eyes as the shine from its metal form blanketed the world with light. The halo in the sky began to spin.

Caelus fed the flame of preservation within him, the tinders of the Stellaron quickly catching into a swelling inferno as veins of gold lined both his arms. The outcome of the last time he had blocked an attack with a Stellaron quickly raced across his mind as a deadly afterthought.

His head quickly glanced backwards.

“Welt—“

Only to find a gloved hand was already anchored on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” said Welt Yang, “I’m right here.”

“On the fifth day, grant Rules…”

The Embryo raised his arms upwards in prostration, his halo achieving its third layer as he beckoned the intertwined halo in the sky to increase the pace of its rotation.

Caelus felt a second, much heavier hand on his other shoulder. He turned to find a blue visor staring at him.

He nodded. No words needed to be exchanged.

Golden eyes refocused, Caelus’ flickering flames degenerating back into pure arcs of light as he released what little control he held over his Stellaron. Firefly’s tightening grip helped him ignore the searing pain that scraped behind his skin.

“On the sixth day, grant Meaning…” 

The Embryo released an undulating pulse of light as both the halo behind it and the halo above became too bright to look at. 

Caelus winced as he felt the opposing force crash against his shield. Then he heard the sound of a pole hitting the ground.

“Let my shields be yours,” a knight declared nobly.

Three busts of shields materialized beside him, each lending their strength as he felt the novel energy flow through him. The protective power provided by Idrila’s path was calmer, much less turbulent than the coursing energy of the Stellaron.

“On the seventh day, grant Dignity…”

A bell toll rumbled the platform. Every surface of Sunday’s god-given form now blazed with the same shade of radiant gold that completely drowned the heaven-lit sky.

Five Trailblazers, one Stellaron Hunter, one Stoneheart, and one Knight of Beauty hunkered behind a veritable wall of Stellaron-powered Preservation as they prepared to face the wrath of a God head on.

There was no massive world-shattering attack. At least not at first.

Only the thundering verse of one final decree.

“Oh glorious ENA! YOUR divine being will become the foundation for OUR paradise!”

The Embryo of Philosophy’s sole audience watched in horrified fascination as its mechanical arm extended upward, stretching toward the sky in yearning reach of something yet unseen.

A serene light burst forth from the center of the grand halo suspended in the sky, a sea of sanctified energies churning and coalescing to reveal a massive hand that pushed forward into reality from the great beyond.

When Caelus saw the otherworldly limb descending from the heavens, he immediately recognized the colossal arm forged of star-kilned porcelain and the very cosmos itself; the stupefying visage plucked straight from his journeys across a Simulated Univerise. 

It was the arm of a dead Aeon; the very arm of Ena, Aeon of Order, that fell upon them.

No one had time to contemplate the sheer terror before them as the outstretched fingertips of mortal and god neared ever closer.

Five words, barely a whisper but cast from a barely recognizable voice layered with the inscrutable tone of a Aeon, rang like chimes across the minds of the entire dreamscape. 

“In Anfang war die Tat.”

“EVERYONE!” Shouted Himeko, though Caelus could barely hear it over the fervor end ptuch of the World Cancer, “BRACE!”

A porcelain fingertip brushed against a gold one, connecting the circuit of a matrimony most divine. For a singular moment, for a single cosmic tick, there was nothing. No sight. No feeling. No whispers. Only an empty sensationless void.

Then, at the sound of a solitary drop of water hitting the sea of creation, the rippling world was made anew.

The shrieking primordial clamor of creation exploded in Caelus’ ears, the indescribable rendering him temporarily deaf to his own scream as the light of a cataclysmic re-genesis slammed against him in its entirety. 

For the first time, his Stellaron wasn’t screaming.

It was crying.

Against the supernova that the Embryo had summoned, Caelus was in too much pain to cry. He was in too much pain to see or even hear.

But he could still feel.

He felt his arms buckle against the galaxy-bending force. He felt his very body begin to shatter and crack, disintegrating from forces both outside and within.

He felt two hands on his shoulder that remained firm. One that poured familiar warmth. One that poured unwavering strength.

Both that reminded what he had to lose.

So, blind and deaf and drowning in mind-shattering pain…

Caelus held.

A second golden star shined in defiance as the trailblazer let a feral, guttural roar heard by all excerpt himself, pushing back against the combined wrath of a newborn god.

Three excruciating seconds passed before the onslaught relented. No sooner had those three seconds passed did the shield that had protected the Trailblaze’s resistance crumble away; its bearer limply collapsing forward.

White armored arms caught him before he hit what was left of the ground, “Caelus!” 

And there wasn’t much of the ground left. Aside from the small sliver of platform that had been protected behind his shield, nothing remained of the stage they had been fighting upon. Even the dreamscape skylines that had been present for the entire battle had been wiped away by the tides of re-creation, leaving the Astral Express crew and co adrift in a void of seemingly nothing.

Caelus himself faired no better.

The cracked fissures that had lined his arm now sprawled across his entire body, shining gold blood bleeding from heavy labored breath that he took. So hot was he in Firefly’s grip that he left blackening marks on armored arms meant to withstand the most harshest flames ever conceived by man.

Most concerning, however, were the jagged spikes of fragmentum that broke through his skin and coat, jutting out in a haphazard line from beneath his collarbone to the top of his shoulder. 

“Impossible,” breathed the Embryo of Philosophy at seeing his opponents still standing on a tiny platform that floated above the dream, “Impossible!”

His words went unheeded, multiple cries of alarm sounding from the trailblazers as Caelus forcefully rolled out of Firefly’s arms.

With violently shaking limbs, Caelus pushed himself up, ichor pooling beneath him as he barely made it to his feet. He wobbled until he felt an arm snake under his shoulder.

Caelus let out a wet laugh, “I… told you. I’m… indestructible.”

An old memory tickled Firefly’s brain as she heard March 7th let out a sigh before her own pre-programmed response could sound over her vocalizer.

“How are you managing?” Himeko asked hurriedly, her suitcase still held tightly in her grip. Firefly would have asked herself but her voice was still strangled with worry as her eyes still tried to catalogue the severity of his injuries..

Caelus shrugged. Or presumably did, since it really just looked like a minute twitch of his shoulders.

“The Stellaron shut up.”

It was meant as a jape, but its second implication may as well have been a death sentence.

The Embryo of Philosophy still stood opposed to them, the only light suspended amidst the endless void they now found themselves in. Even now, they could still feel the weight of its song pressing against them from all sides.

In turn, the power the trailblazers had been relying upon, no matter how destructive it had been to its wielder, had fallen silent.

“Uh…” March ventured cautiously, “That’s bad right?”

Aventurine let out a bitter noise, “Unless you’ve got another planet-busting power source up your sleeves, then yes, we’re officially in the red.”

“Thanks to our friend’s valiance, we are not vanquished yet,” Argenti reaffirmed, rebrandishing his spear, “Stand tall, everyone.”

Himeko turned to the other senior trailblazer among them.

“Welt, I think now might be a good time.”

Her response went seemingly unheeded as the older man turned his head slightly upward.

“Welt?” She repeated. 

“Quiet for a moment,” he said, “Do you hear that?”

At first, Firefly thought the gentleman was messing with them. Then her audio receptors spiked.

There was indeed a sounds coming from beyond the void.

March looked around the darkness in confusion, “Is that…”

Her trailing words were interrupted by the gasping of the Embryo, “Music…?”

Indeed, if they strained their ears, the trailblazers could indeed hear the faintest notes of a song.

Dan Heng let out a tempered sigh of relief, “It’s her.”

Caelus let out a chuckle as realization dawned on him. He had honestly forgotten.

“About time…”

Before any of the other trailblazers could inquire what the two meant, another sound cut across the dream void.

“Distinguished dreamers far and wide!” A gruff voice announced, though its grizzled owner was nowhere to be seen, “It is my absolute pleasure to introduce the Charmony Festival’s main event!”

Pinkish flames of revelry abruptly sprouted a distance away from them, standing out amidst the empty as they flared into a swirling vortex.

March gasped, “That’s—!”

“Gallagher,” Caelus said, turning back to the shocked Embryo with a vicious grin, “They made it.”

The music grew louder as Penacony’s flame of indulgence spread, eating away at the emptiness inch by inch as Caelus spied a familiar eye slithering through the darkness.

“There seems to be another sound coming into the Order’s symphony,” said Welt, staring down the Embryo’s confused expression with an orange gaze of his own, “Penacony’s first and last disharmony.”

March ran to the end of their crumbling platform, “I recognize this music!”

The disembodied voiced must have heard her, because jovial laughter echoed from the flame in the abyss.

“That’s right, little miss. She’s the star of the show, fresh from her little trip through all the hours of our sweet dream. And she’ll be ending her Charmony Festival Tour right here with a Golden Hour finale!” Gallagher continued announcing with an experienced, rising voice.

“No…” the Embryo muttered, in sudden realization of the final obstacle he had to face.

His protest went unheeded as a sudden brightness shot from the flames and into the air, returning the endless sparkling Golden Hour skyline to its proper place with luminescent white light.

“Put your hands together and give a big warm welcome to Penacony’s own superstar!”

A true angel of Harmony spread her wings over the dream, casting white-feathered hope far and wide as she re-illuminated the slumbering world anew.

“The Free Bird of the Starry Skies, Robin!”

Echoing dulcet tones carried clear across the Golden Hour as Robin burst into song on the stage of her own making.

We rise together as our destiny unfolds…

Sound has a curious property. When two waves of sound are diametrically opposed, when they are perfectly opposite from one another, they cancel out. Each wave completely obliterates each other into silence as if they were anathema. 

It is, in a way, a perfect Harmony in Disharmony.

So it was to no surprise that when two siblings stood diametrically opposed, singing opposite songs of order and freedom, the oppressive atmosphere surrounding the Trailblazers began to fade bit by bit.

Caelus staggered out of Firefly’s grip, reaching out his hand to catch a falling white lilac plume.

“Robin,” Sunday said, “Is that you singing?”

“Brother, you have heard their cries…” cried Robin’s voice, somehow loud and clear over her own song,  “This is not the paradise they hope for! True happiness lies in embracing all that life offers, for better or worse!”

“Even so, they don’t know where they should be heading,” the Embryo answered, the very same answer he had given Caelus, “That’s why… I had to become the lone star in the sky. The eternal light for them to follow.”

Robin’s response was brittle, “Even if that star… must hang in the a perpetual night of solitude?”

A moment of hesitation stayed his voice, “Yes. Even if I alone must weather this fate for all of eternity, this is the path I walk.”

“I see…” Robin said, her palpable sadness clinging to her words as her presence faded, “Then, I am sorry, dear brother.”

The feather in Caelus’ hand suddenly pulsed with energy as he felt a new connection reach out to him.

Harmony, purest Harmony of the collective wishes of millions upon millions of dreamers wanting to be free, distilled by the winged singer in the sky.

Caelus realized it was more than just a blessing, it was Robin’s tacit permission to do what she herself wasn’t strong enough to put into words.

Because even death would be a far kinder fate than the fate Sunday had consigned himself to.

He closed his fist around the feather as he turned back to the Embryo still in shock at the seeming betrayal of his own kin, surprised at the sheer current that reinvigorated every Stellaron-plagued cell within him. 

Caelus’s broken body straightened experimentally as flames once again flickered across his skin. He found that the whispers of the Stellaron within him were different… more focused and cooperative. Whether it was from Robin’s song, The Harmony, or both, Caelus didn’t quite care as a brimmed hat appeared in his hand.

He laughed aloud with his Stellaron; there was a lot they could do with the wishes of an entire dream behind him.

Caelus looked to his side and found a blue visor staring down at him.

“One last go,” he said, his fractured face splitting in the bets grin he could muster “With me?”

The helmet nodded and Caelus could feel the smiling Firefly behind it, “Always.”

“Enough,” Sunday said, his protective coat of light once again bathing him from the triple layered halo behind him, “If our paths deem us to be enemies, then… so be it.”

His words were notably hollow, lacking the zealous conviction present just moments ago.

Before any trailblazer could make another move, however, static blasted in the ears.

“Hey hey!” a chipper voice said, “Sorry I’m late!”

Five heads immediately turned to a new star in the sky as the familiar whistle of a train wailed across the dream. 

Even The Embryo stilled as the glowing cars of the Astral Express blurred by, kicking up clouds of charred dust as the vehicle sped around the trailblazers’ platform and coursed across the sky as a zooming testament of Akivili’s trailblazing will.

“Pom-Pom!” March exclaimed as they watched the train fly higher.

A dark chuckle emanated from the Embryo, “So this truly is a confrontation of fallen Aeons.” 

Himeko suddenly burst into action, “Pom-Pom! Remember that thing you told me about? The super forbidden emergency technique?”

Three younger trailblazers stared in confusion at the odd string of words that had just left Himeko’s mouth.

“Yep, that’s what I’m here for,” Pom-Pom responded, though his tone was slightly begrudging, “As long as the IPC is willing to pay for a new coat of paint!”

Himeko turned to the IPC Stoneheart.

“Carte blanche,” Aventurine said simply.

“All I needed to hear,” Pom-Pom said as the Express continued its climb, “Himeko, just give me a good vector.”

“Got it. And wait for him to lower his defenses. I’ll give you a signal!” the Navigator said as she tossed her suitcase on the ground. Instead of unfolding into a drone, it took a different form as it split into two pieces, extending into what seemed to be a holographic railway gate.

Looks were exchanged as everyone stepped forward, coming to an quick understanding of the unspoken plan.

They had their weapon. They just needed to break that shield.

Argenti appraised the void separatbig them and their godly opponent, “Grant me a moment and I can forge us a path.”

March suddenly drew back her bow, “I don’t think he’s too keen on that!”

Indeed, the Embryo of Philosophy held its hands in front of its expressionless face, pure holy light building at its fingertips.

“Don’t worry,” Caelus said as the Watchmaker’s Legacy began to glow, building concentrated memoria as he walked ahead seemingly completely ignorant of his own injuries, “I got this.”

Before anyone could protest, the Embryo’s voice suddenly yelled across at them.

‘For the good of our paradise, you must be purged!” Sunday screamed, releasing a beam of light the width of a small building lancing toward them.

Caelus simply flicked his already glowing hat toward the attack.

“May our dreams bring forth a DAWN of new beginning!”

Reality shuddered as the small piece of clothing suddenly exploded, something massive clawing out of the void in reality it left behind and catching the holy light between what looked to be a pair of massive claws.

Himeko, March, and Dan Heng instantly recognized the thing born from the unholy union of fragmentum and memoria.

The Doomsday Beast flared its twin pairs of draconic wings, returning fire with a shower of lasers as the bi-colored vestige of antimatter released a dragon’s thunderous cry.

“An Echo of War,” Welt observed in poorly concealed awe as the antithesis of life began an unrelenting assault.

“Robin gave me quite a boost,” Caelus said with a grin, eyes shining with gold lined with lilac.

The antimatter dragon dove at the Embryo, forcing him to block the beast’s vicious two handed strike with his hand.

“Such power,” Sunday muttered as he gathered power in his other hand.

Metal limbs groaned as he forced back the voracious creature with a blast of holy energy. The shining halo behind him spun as he used his built up memoria to summon forth another full legion of Faded Echoes.

The Doomsday Beast weathered the swarm undeterred, lasers carving through its new prey with seemingly even more vigor.

A sudden utterance quickly captured the trailblazers’ attention, diverting their attention from the peon of destruction to the Knight of Beauty who now held his great spear close to his bowed head in deep prayer.

Though the rapid lines of his reverent invocation were too quiet to hear, he raised his spear high as he howled the last lines of his mantra to the cosmos.

“OH IDRILA, LET THIS HUMBLE VESSEL SERVE AS A MERE GLIMMER OF YOUR TRUE SPLENDOR!”

The knight struck the ground with the pommel of his spear. The very moment his weapon cracked the ground, a banner weaved from the iridescent threads of Beauty unfurled into the night, extending almost farther than the eye could see as the fighters under it felt a wave of resurgence lift their tired spirits.

The platform beneath their feet rumbled as a huge tapestry of vines slithered and twisted forth from beneath their feet, multiple bridges of blooming tendrils reaching through the air as they grew vigorously toward the Embryo of Philosophy.

“NOW CHARGE FORTH, MY FRIENDS!”

Well, who could turn down an ask like that?

Everyone but the Astral Express navigator and the knight keeping their bridge afloat leapt off the platform, breaking into a sprint to keep pace with the still growing bridge. 

The Emrbryo was quick to notice their advance.

“Defend me!” Sunday yelled over the roaring of Caelus’ dragon.

Several Faded Echoes veered onto a new course, electing to charge the trailblazers rather than become more mincemeat for the creature of destruction.

“Firefly!” Caelus yelled.

His response was a controlled detonation as green flame once again burned above the battlefield. Twin blades blurred forward, slicing the Echoes to ribbons before they even made it halfway to them.

“Insolence!” Sunday cried, metal arm rearing back in what seemed to be a punch.

Caelus didn’t quite realize what The Embryo intended to do at such a distance until a portal opened up above him.

The porcelain arm of a god barreled toward them, its hand this time curled into a fist. It crashed straight into the Doomsday Beast, dispersing it back into memoria as it continued on its path uninterrupted.

Caelus paused his own charge as he watched Firefly narrowly dodge a similarly fate. His next words came to him quickly.

“May our dreams burn like WILDFIRE!” 

Caelus stomped his foot into the ground, throwing his whole weight behind his own fist in a mirrored gesture to Sunday’s.

Howling winter wind blew at the the trailblazers’ backs as a new fissure ripped through reality, releasing a blizzard of ice and snow straight from the eternally frozen wasteland of Belobog. A gargantuan robotic arm shot forth from the city-sized hole in the sky, quickly revealing the rest of the artificial titan heralded as the Engine of Creation.

The will of a planet crashed against the will of a god as tempered steel met blessed porcelain. 

An earthquake shook the entire Golden Hour as the puppeteered arm of a dead god was brought to a destructive halt. Even so, the arm of Belobog’s giant crumpled against the sheer force, a chain of explosions riding up the limb as the Architect’s machinery inevitably gave way under the pressure. 

This apparently mattered very little to the Echo of War; while its damaged arm fell uselessly away, its other arm quickly grappled the god-sent limb into a full armed vice-grip while it leveled its gleaming red optics right at the Embryo of Philosophy.

Caelus charged once more as the titan fired a ray of heat vision right into Sunday’s face.

Sunday growled in frustration, smoke rolling off of his shield as he reared his other arm back. This time Caelus was already well-prepared for the appearance of Ena’s left hand; he didn’t even stop moving as he willed his own memoria into reality. 

“May our dreams bloom like arbor UNDYING!”

Space distorted as a trunk of twisted Xianzhou wood sprung forth from the fathomless dream below. Branches alit with the pale-green flames of Abundance flared as a Noachian geyser of pure jadewater burst from below.

“Dan Heng!” Caelus yelled, “It’s all you!”

The Imbibitor Lunae needed no further prompting as he guided the symbol of his authority through the air with dance-like grace. Sure enough, the ocean tide brought forth from Caelus’ memoria responded to his call, molding itself into the fierce visage of a great-horned dragon. 

It was a faithful recreation, in both size and scale, of the grand dragon that stood at eternal vigil at the roots of the Ambrosial Arbor. 

Unlike that dragon, however, this one‘s fanged maw split wide open in deafening, guttural roar.

As calm as a still pond, Dan Heng pointed two fingers at the oncoming threat in silent command. The city-sized serpent lurched forward with the speed of a falling waterfall, swiftly ducking underneath the Aeon’s fist and wrapping around the arm like a vengeful python.

With a quite hmph, Dan Heng’s open hand clamped shut around the golden orb in his palm. The Echo of War followed suit.

Ceramic cracked and shattered as the arm of a God was subject to the pressure of an entire ocean coiled around its limb, rendering the world-ending force instantly inert in serpentine vice. 

Caelus didn’t pay the spectacle any heed, transitioning from a charge to full flight as he burst forward. His body once again burned with bright golden fire as he brought his pointed lance upward.

Just as Sunday raised his arms to retaliate, he found himself under siege of a barrage of icy shards.

“Don’t forget me!” A cheeky voice said from a high vine.

The Embryo yelled in frustration as he quickly fired a beam of light upward at the archer. Still, it was just enough of a distraction that when he turned back toward Caelus, the trailblazer had closed the distance.

On pure reactive instinct, beams lanced outward from both of his hands, kicking up dust as it arced across the trailblazer. For several moments, there was only silence as the cloud of glittering snow settled amidst the burnt vines severed by his hand.

Wait. Snow?

With not even a second to contemplate this discrepancy, a shadow flew from the obscuring haze of six-phased ice.

Sunday’s golden fist flew up to defend himself, conjuring his shield just a sliver of a second before Firefly’s flaming kick reached him.

He nearly breathed a sigh of relief when the attack was halted, though this relief quickly spiraled into puzzlement when the flames decorating the suit of armor abruptly fizzled out and the Stellaron Hunter fell limp against his shield. 

This puzzlement turned to muted horror when the suit fell apart into empty pieces in front of his still shut eyes.

A second shadow leapt from the fog, capitalizing on his brief confusion as a lithe frame vaulted over him in one final bait-and-switch.

The sly voice of a businessman taunted his non-existent ears. 

“Made you look.”

Try as he might, there was noting he could do as several stone dice flung themselves at the halos behind him. The crystallized light of Order darkened as it chipped and shattered under the barrage. Without his choir, Sunday immediately felt the source of his power begin to dim. 

The Embryo whirled around only to find the Stoneheart was long gone. Instead, something glittering above him immediately caught his eye.

Clouds of living shadows parted way, revealing a trailblazer and a silver-haired girl now free from her armor holding on tightly to a flaming lance. They were both on fire, flickers of Stellaron gold mingling with Complete Conbustion green as they weathered the turbulent air.

“This high enough for the two of ya?” Gallagher hollered, hanging onto the golden collar of his malformed pet.

Caelus’ felt Firefly’s hand clasp tightly over his lance-bound grip. He briefly found her waiting sunsets and nodded. 

“Go for it!” Firefly yelled over the roar of their flames. Caelus flashed him a thumbs up.

“Good!” The bloodhound yelled, “Make it count!”

The memory zone meme that held them in its tail reared back, flinging the pair downward toward their target as Robin began her final verse.

Heads up! A steady rhythm, A destination that’s ever near.

“Sinners, you will not steal this paradise away from us!” Sunday roared, drawing upon the rest of his power as he summoned one last symphony of notes.

Caelus and Firefly painted a river of flames as they free-fell, rapidly gaining speed as the imaginary projectiles whizzed by them. Those that might have hit them never made it to them, exploding into harmless aether particles at the will of an unseen hand.

Silver Wolf’s laughter rang in their ears.

“Leave these to me! This is easy mode!”

With the hacker covering their advance, Sunday could only brace himself as the twin-tailed meteor rapidly grew closer.

Before he could raise his arms, however, a humble man in glasses suddenly appeared out of thin air on the severed vines beneath of him.

“I think not.”

The Embryo of Philosophy’s metal limbs were pulled straight downward with a brutal gravitational force. They were sheared straight off of his body toward the golf-ball sized synthetic black hole that Welt Yang held casually in his grip.

Sunday screamed, but turned back to the sky to face the meteor that was now upon him.

The second they hit terminal velocity, Caelus and Firefly thrust the spear forward.

“IT’S OVER SUND-“

“HEAVENLY! CORONAL! REJECTION!”

The couple snapped forward with explosive force, their final strike transforming into a celestial event as plumes of gold and green surged across the sky as they set ablaze in a cascading aurora of colors.

Even without his choir, halos, or arms, the Embryo of Philosophy was far from defenseless.

A blinding flash tore across the dreamscape as unstoppable fire met unmovable gold.

Caelus’ felt his cracked arms scream as they bled golden blood. Glowing veins crawled up Firefly’s face as she forced as much entropy out her body as possible.

Still, Sunday didn’t give. His shield was holding.

Just when Caelus felt the edges of his vision began to blur, just when he thought that all of their efforts were still not enough, a thin little line of violet whizzed between the space between their heads. The lonesome bullet zipped right by their ears, hitting Sunday’s blessed shield with a rather unceremonious plink.

At first, nothing happened.

Then, the flaming duo heard the sharpest crack as a web of violet fracture began its jagged path outward.

For the briefest sliver of a second, shining gold met flaming sunset. It was all the renewal they needed.

Together, with the power of a Galaxy Ranger’s Last Rite behind them, they roared as one.

The flame of a Stellaron bled into true light as the flame of Glamoth flared with the will of life itself, married gold and teal billowing together one final time.

Amidst the twinkling crackle of glass, amidst the last battle cry of his beloved, amidst the horrified breath of his adversary, Caelus heard the echo of a single whisper. He recognized the voice, the hushed whisper of the the last lingering thread of consciousness that he had known as Misha.

…Welcome home, Tiernan….

Caelus and Firefly lanced through the forehead of a god, the force of their charge shattering the translucent barrier of Order into a million, flaming pieces as they pierced straight through the Embryo of Philosophy.

“NOW HIMEKO!”

Caelus wasn’t quite aware who said it, but the shout was effective nonetheless.

The Astral Navigaor thrust her arm forward, the glowing gate beside her flicking to green a millisecond before the Express roared down from the sky above her.

“WITNESS THE WILL OF THE WEAK!”

Akivili’s divine carriage sliced through the dream, tearing the olive coat clean off the Navigator’s shoulders as the cars hurtled past her as a streak of blue color.

There was truly nothing that could describe the sheer, cosmos-ending impact of the Astral Express ramming an object at full-speed. Only that Sunday’s divine body was instantly and completely pulverized as Pom-Pom delivered the Trailblaze’s truest rebuke to Ena’s Order.

Caelus momentarily blacked out as he held onto Firefly for dear life, the two bodies sent hurtling across the dream as the train arced back into the stars above. He came to a few seconds later, but quickly realized that he was falling alone.

Golden eyes rapidly darted across sky, searching for Firefly’s white outfit. A few panicked seconds later, he did indeed spy a falling figure dressed in white.

Except, it wasn’t quite the person he wanted to see.

Garbed in his priestly mortal robes, Sunday’s limp body hurtled toward the dream’s surface,

Caelus tightened his grip, finding his lance still in his hand. The Stellaron responded, gold flame reigniting the amber as he—

Caelus suddenly felt two arms encircle his torso.

“Cae,” Firefly said, her lips right beside his ear, “It’s over.”

Caelus’ golden eyes stared at the halovian falling beneath them.

The Harmonious Choir was gone. The Embryo of Philosophy was gone. The Dream was fading. Firefly wasn’t dead.

By all rights, it was really and truly over.

So why couldn’t he take his hand off his lance?

Why did he still want to kill the man named Sunday?

His thoughts were interrupted by a new light peeking above the horizon. 

For the first time in countless years, the sun was rising of the Golden Hour dreamscape, and it was in this momentary clarity that Caelus found the answer staring him in the face. 

Or rather staring at the inside of his chest.

The Stellaron.

The Stellaron that, no matter how useful it could be, no matter how much power it could give, was and always would be a world cancer. It was so stupidly simple that Caelus found himself in shocked silence.

“Cae, do you see it? It’s the sunrise. We did it,” Firefly murmured.

Whether the girl was aware of Caelus’s internal plight, he didn’t know.

…She probably was, though.

With a steadying breath, the same steadying breath taught to him by the girl at his side so long ago, Caelus made a decision.

If the Stellaron wanted him to be a weapon, he would do the one thing that no weapon was capable of doing.

He would choose not to be one.

The lance in his grip shimmered away, banished along with the clamoring whispers in his mind.

“Yeah,” Caelus said, “It’s nice.”

A feathered blur flew past them, Caelus barely registering the whispered heartfelt ‘thank you’ that Robin left behind as her wings carried her to her brother.

Just as the warmth of the new morning began ferrying him to the realm of unconsciousness, he heard a voice echo across the his mind one last time.

“Why does life slumber?”

Caelus had his answer, but he didn’t care to voice it. Robin could probably tell her brother better than he could anyway.

So he just closed his eyes, savoring the rays of the sun and the warm arms that still held him in tight embrace. 

“Will I see you in the morning?” he heard Firefly whisper.

“First thing,” murmured Caelus, “Get some rest, Lazy-fly.”

The simple laughter that he heard was sweeter to him than any dream syrup could ever be.

Two heralds of the eighth day fell asleep amidst the light of a promised sunset, letting the waking world reclaim them as they hurtled hand in hand toward the unknown tomorrow.

They wouldn’t have it any other way.

Chapter Text

“Is this some sort of joke? Because, as you can see, I’m not laughing.”

A tinny note plinked through a posh conference room as a golden coin spun through the air, turning in agitation as it was snatched by a waiting, tense hand.

Bright magenta regarded a large wide-brimmed hat dip slightly in acknowledgement. The owner of the nearly oversized accoutrement serenely poured herself a glass of wine before she responded.

“Is there something about this plan that displeases you, Aventurine?” Asked Madame Bonajade, better known as Jade of Credit, as she idly swirled the red liquid in her stemmed glass.

“Mmm. Yeah,” Aventurine said plainly, passing the coin he was very much using to channel his growing frustration between his gloved hands, “All of it.”

“The higher ups want the threat of the Stellaron contained immediately,” another voice tried to placate, “I know this plan seems more compulsory that usual, but it’s the best avenue to accomplish our agenda quickly.”

Aventurine’s bright eyes glinted sharply as they turned to Topaz, “Are you saying that because you believe it, Ms. Long Game? Or because you just happen to be standing in front Ms. P46.”

Topaz’s face winced like she had been struck, then the holographic screens she had been using to manage her calculations abruptly flickered out as that wince turned into a full leer toward her coworker. 

Her trotter partner Numby suddenly dove behind her leg, “This has nothing to—“

“Topaz,” Jade politely interrupted. She waited for the other female Stoneheart to quiet down before regarding Aventurine properly.

“Just because the Stellaron Hunters repaired your cornerstone doesn’t mean we’re in their debt,” Jade pointed out, “Don’t tell me the Aventurine of Stratagems suddenly developed a soft heart after a single hard-fought battle.”

The coin rolled across the back of Aventurine’s hand, landing back in his palm before beginning another rotation. The repeated action helped hide his restrained scowl.

How hard was it to get across that separating the Stellaron Hunters from the Astral Express was no longer very simple?

“This has nothing to do with debt, I never asked for them to fix the stone, and it has nothing to do with my conscious,“ Aventurine said measuredly, “It has everything to do with good faith toward the Astral Express.”

“You believe in good faith?” Topaz questioned dryly, “Besides, how do you know if that repair job is even permanent?”

The coin suddenly vanished in a display of sleight of hand, replaced by a pristine, fist-sized gemstone still glittering with undimmed aventurecense.

“Let me rephrase this: What do you value more?” Aventurine asked slowly, his smooth voice almost grating in tone, “The gross domestic product of a single resort planet and a little bit of hollow security… or every single Nameless in the galaxy not breathing down our necks because we didn’t try to coerce one of their own?”

He then waved his namesake in front of Topaz’s face, “As for this… well, I have no clue, but I’ve taken worse bets before.”

Jade chuckled, “Trust me, we are well aware of that.”

After all, they were standing here having this conversation because of the impressive results of said bets.

Jade pursed her lips, then crossed her legs before continuing.

“I hear your concerns, Aventurine, but an active Stellaron is in the hands of a former criminal, even if they have somehow avoided the IPC database,” Jade stressed, “I agree that this plan has its risks, but I also agree with the Risk Assessment Department that letting such power run free is a huge liability that we can not let stand.”

Even though his interaction with the Trailblazer had been somewhat limited, Aventurine doubted that the Trailblazer would show up at Pier Point as a bad actor even if he was still a Stellaron Hunter. 

Unless, of course, someone gave him an overwhelming reason to.

“With all due respect, I’m telling you that the chances are very high of incurring that liability if you go through with this plan. It’s too early for it to be a winning gamble,” Aventurine stressed. Then he switched strategies, “That aside, Topaz was literally demoted in order to build rapport with the Express. Are you certain that your approach is worth throwing all of that effort to the wind?”

Topaz winced and Aventurine knew his appeal to her efforts had landed. Jade’s expression, however, remained oh-so frustratingly indifferent.

A terse second passed.

“Then what do you suggest instead?” Inquired the Stoneheart’s credit dealer.

“We wait,” Aventurine answered quickly, “We don’t try to force a good hand with a deck that is already shaky. Because of that leak you got your hands on, we already know Penacony needs IPC support. Why not wait for the stakeholders to come to us instead of the other way around?”

Topaz looked at him like he had grown a second, third, and fourth head. Even Numby cocked its snout sideways in confusion.

“Did you just say wait?” Topaz said, looking back at Jade, “You heard that too, right?”

Jade finished sipping a glass of wine before she spoke, “Yes, we both heard the same the thing. Aventurine, acting conservative… what has the galaxy come to?”

“I don’t take bad bets,” Aventurine said unbothered, his cornerstone once again swapping places with a dancing gold coin, “And I haven’t made a bad call so far.”

Jade contemplated the words for several seconds. Then Aventurine surmised she made him wait for a few extra more.

“To put it in your terms, the pot is too good to not make an attempt at taking it,” Jade said, “We are in a position where we can potentially neutralize the Stellaron Hunters and secure a much bigger cut of Penacony’s profits than anticipated.” 

She took one last sip of her glass, leaving not one drop of carmine behind.

“Besides, I’ve already seen both of their desires through the dream,” Jade said, “I’m making an offer I know they can’t refuse.”

And that was where Aventurine wanted to tell her she was wrong; that a man like the trailblazer, a man who made a name for himself literally shouting “Rules are meant to be broken,” could always refuse. Desires be damned.

Instead, he just sighed, knowing what zero-odds looked like when he saw them.

“This was never about risk, was it, Jade?” Aventurine said, his easy voice only thinly veiling his accusation.

For a split second, Aventurine through he heard a slithering hiss. Too bad that didn’t really work on him anymore.

“Due to your immeasurable contributions to his operation, your concerns have been noted,” Jade said, “I will think about it.”

Aventurine vented a curse mentally at her detached tone.

Noted? Sure. Implemented? He doubted it.

Externally he just nodded. There was no use crying over a lost hand, after all.

He plastered a half-smile on his face, “Good, I’m going to go get a drink. All this back and forth is killing me.”

The door was swinging shut behind the gambler before either of his coworkers could get in another word; if they wanted to waste everything they’d worked on so far, he wanted no part of it.

The Stoneheart fetched his phone out of the pocket as his freshly polished shoes tapped down the Reverie’s VIP-reserved halls. It was true he needed a drink, but there was something else he needed to do first. 

If Jade wanted to play her hand and make an enemy of the Express as collateral, so be it.

At least there was still a little time to setup a new bet.

A crystal glass tumbler clacked against the well polished bar of the Astral Express’ cafe car, dimly lit only by the distant stars and what little light filtered through from the port-side view of the distant Reverie hotel a few hundred miles away.

“Yeehaw, that’s good stuff. Definitely scratches the itch!”

The cowboy cyborg known as Boothill exchanged the robotic bartender a brief, approving nod as he gave the strong alcohol a few seconds to burn down his artificial throat. Then he turned to speak to his present company.

“Though I’m telling ya, tanglin’ with the fudgin IPC dogs is a rotten idea.”

“I don’t think the word ‘tangling’ is an adequate description of what we’re going for,” said Welt Yang, sipping a similar drink in one of the car’s cushioned booths, “We were well aware of their less than stellar record, even before you shared with us what actually transpired on Aeregan-Epharshel.”

The Belobog Debt Incident aside, March 7th had incidentally gotten involved with a not-so enjoyable encounter with the Family during their initial investigations. Since the incident in question regarded the former Genius Society #79 Calderon Chadwick, they were still waiting for Screwllum to arrive in order to settle the issue properly, but from what Welt himself understood via cursory research it was more than likely the IPC was involved.

Either way, The Express was already quite wary of the IPC. The cowboy’s tale, while tragic, was just another log to an already burning bonfire at this point. 

Welt adjusted his glasses a smidgen, “My condolences for your losses.”

Boothill grumbled something under his breath, “The past is the past, but ‘ppreciate it nonetheless.”

While the cowboy continued muttering unintelligibly into his empty tumbler, Welt turned to the other person sitting on the plush chairs in the room.

“Himeko, you haven’t said anything for a while,” Welt observed.

“I just got a message,” Himeko said absently. It was clear whatever she had received had her deep in thought from the simple fact her evening coffee was cooling next to her untouched.

“From?” Welt probed.

Himeko stared at her phone screen for a second longer, “The message sender is anonymous, but my hunch is Aventurine.”

Boothill’s slumped posture straightened at the mention of the Stoneheart.

“That sleezeball already tryin’ to cut ya a deal? Figured it’d be under the table.”

“He’s not, actually,” Himeko rectified.

Boothill frowned, “Then what the fudge does he want?”

Himeko flashed the phone screen in his direction, “See for yourself.”

Boothill swiveled around on his bar stool, reading the message off the Navigator’s far away phone easily with the telescopics built into his cybernetic eyes.

He read the message aloud, “J making a bad bet. Don’t let the gold out of your sight. Yours, A.”

That was no deal. That was a warning. Plain and simple.

“J?” Welt observed, “That must be Jade of Credit, if what I know on the Stonehearts is to be believed.”

Boothill whistled, “Jade? That bench is a real fudgin snake, I’ll tell ya what. Literally, I’ve heard.”

“You know her?” Himeko asked, finally sipping her coffee to find it had cooled a bit too much.

Boothill blew a puff of air between his lips, “Tried to put a bullet between her eyes once.”

For some reason, Himeko nor Welt were surprised at the casual admittance.

“Ah,” Himeko intoned lightly, “Is this a bad time to inform you that I’ve already been contacted by her?”

“I’ve heard the deals she makes never end well for those she makes ‘em with,” Boothill explained, “You’re ridin’ for a fall.”

“Then it’s a good thing all I’ve done is exchanged pleasantries with her,” Himeko said, “We’ll keep communications open for now, but will remain alert.”

Boothill tsked, “Alert? You better be growin’ an eye in the back of your head, missy.”

Surprisingly, it was Welt that let out a low chuckle, “You would be surprised, Mr. Boothill.”

The train car door slid open before anyone else could speak another word, revealing Dan Heng standing in the open doorway.

“Any news?” Himeko asked immediately upon seeing the Scion.

“Caelus is still asleep,” Dan Heng reported as he entered the cafe car, “Though March told me to tell you that the wounds he suffered have more or less finished healing.”

The Astral Navigator breathed a relieved sigh into her coffee cup, “Thank Akivili.” 

The crew had found Caelus in his dreampool, fractured and bleeding so much that it had turned the normally blue dreamfluid held within gold. Moreover, his room had been so contaminated with Stellaron energy that it was only a degree removed from sprouting fragmentum. Luckily the World Cancer had calmed by the time they got him to the Express, but initially only Welt could get to him unharmed.

Still, it had been five days since their confrontation with Sunday.

“The kid’s still kickin? Good,” Boothill said.

“Oh, you haven’t left,” Dan Heng observed, his voice placidly flat as usual.

“And where exactly would I go?” Boothill quipped, “That Acheron lady told me she’d take me to pay my dues to the fallen ranger that burial rite belonged to, but it’s been a spell since I last heard from her.”

Dan Heng nodded in understanding.

“Speaking of, that was a good shot, by the way,” Dan Heng said, “From one strider of the Hunt to another, your aim was true.”

It took a second for Boothill to process that the Xianzhou native was referring to the burial rite bullet that had apparently pierced Sunday’s shield. Or so he’d been told.

“Heh, I’m mighty obliged, but that had nothin’ to do with me. I just shot the fudgin’ thing in the air,” Boothill said, “Whatever was left of that Ranger’s lingering will… Tiernan was it? That’s what did the deed.”

“I see,” Dan Heng said, “Then you can add me to that little field-trip you’ll be taking.”

Boothill tipped his hat, “Be a pleasure to have you.”

Welt coughed politely, bringing the attention back to him, “Returning to the topic at hand. What have we decided about the IPC?”

“Well, apparently there’s nothing we can do until Caelus wakes up,” Himeko said, “Based on Aventurine’s message, it seems like what Jade has planned is hinged somewhat on him.”

Dan Heng crossed his arms and frowned, quick on the uptake, “We were warned about Jade, the Stoneheart?”

“Indeed,” said Himeko.

“I will do some research,” Dan Heng said, already headed back toward the still open door, “But if what I know is correct about that Stoneheart… then it would be remiss not to prepare for conflict.”

The door slid shut, leaving the cafe car silent once again

“Second that!” Boothill sounded from the bar, downing what was left of his drink in one last pull.

Welt shook his head slightly, fielding his only question left, “Have we heard anything from Mr. Gallagher or the Family, Himeko?”

“Nothing from the Family, but, like with Miss Jade, I’ve been in open contact with Mr. Gallagher,” Himeko informed, “He hasn’t mentioned anything specific, but he’s definitely working on something.”

Welt sighed, feeling older by the second, “Then I guess all we can do is just be ready.”

Himeko nodded with a reassuring smile, “As ready as we can be.”

The Express’ bartender slid smoothly over toward the Galaxy Ranger’s empty glass, glass bottle of amber liquid already in it’s clawed grip. 

“Would you care for another, Mr. Boothill?” Shush offered politely.

The conflict on the galaxy ranger’s face only lasted for half a second.

“Y’know, pardner, I wasn’t lookin’ to clear out your liquor cabinet,” Boothill faux-lamented as he picked up his tumbler and swirled the half-melted ice cube inside. 

Then, after a moment, a dark chuckle scraped against synthetic vocal chords.

“But seein’ what’s crestin’ the horizon? Well, Mr. Yang, I think we’re both gonna need it.”

“Are you sure we aren’t gonna get burned hard by this deal? This is the IPC and The Family we’re talking about. I’m pretty sure they don’t even acknowledge we exist.”

A grizzled bartender chuckled, busy polishing the glasses used by that night’s long gone patrons.

“I told you, Micah, I got it handled,” Gallagher assured easily, the dish rag in his hand not even pausing to take his friend’s concern seriously.

“Usually when you say that, I don’t believe you, lazy dog,” Micah grumbled, “But it seems like you’ve been everywhere the past couple of days. Everywhere but here.”

Gallagher’s busy hand paused for a brief moment, his head seemingly nodding at the floor before he shrugged, “Got a new lease on life. Decided I should do something with it.”

Micah quirked an eyebrow, then pushed his empty mug toward the inside of the bar, “You actually do have another plan, don’t you?”

The seasoned bartender tossed his rag aside to fill his last patron’s mug with his preferred draft brew, returning the frothy beverage without spilling a drop.

“This one is more like… pulling all the stops,” Said Gallagher, grunting as he slid a stemmed glass from the rows that hung above the bar.

Micah took a generous swig before he spoke again, “I’m not gonna have every Bloodhound from The Moment of Midnight to Golden Hour on our doorstep, am I?”

Gallagher bent down to open a mini fridge, pulling out a half peeled lemon, “Nah, not if the plan works.”

The gravekeeper of Dreamflux Reef watched as Mikhail’s right hand brought down a bottle of dry vermouth and an imported gin from the top shelf: some real nice bottles of alcohol. The novice bartender within him that had passively grown from spending too much time in this god-forsaken bar realized that Gallagher was mixing a martini.

That was odd; the man seldom drunk, but when he did it was never that.

Micah shook his head, “I hope you know that you’re not really convincing.”

The old bloodhound made a noise halfway between a snort and a scoff.

“Never had to convince Mikky,” Gallagher said as he poured both bottles of alcohol into the glass, “Just had to get results.”

A jingling chime of a doorbell shattered the quiet atmosphere, causing both men to swivel their heads to the entrance to find a well-dressed, broad-shouldered intellitron in a dark-colored trench coat and fedora hat striding purposefully through the door.

A door that was supposed to be locked.

“Sorry, we’re closed,” Micah said, already in motion to hop off his barstool to confront the approaching newcomer.

“Easy, Micah, this one’s VIP,” Gallagher placated, peeling the lemon he had grabbed earlier, “Sleepie, the door.”

A black tendril shot out from the shadows cast behind the door by neon lights outside, pushing the door closed. A piercing eye lingered on the intellitron for just a moment before melting back into the plentiful crevasses of darkness created by old-fashioned filament bulbs casting their warm glow against carved wooden furniture.

“My apologies,” the intellitron apologized, his grainy voice sounding uncharacteristically flustered, “I… should’ve gotten that.”

“No worries, though you won’t find many automatic doors down here,” Gallagher greeted, stirring his current concoction as the robot took a seat, “Feel free to let your hair down, ma’am. No one here but us.”

Micah was almost startled at how abruptly the VIP’s appearance shifted,

One moment he was staring at an inconspicuously dressed intellitron.

The next he was staring at an inconspicuously dressed yet very familiar halovian singer removing her hat, undoing a neatly tied bun to let her long lilac hair breathe.

“Oh,” Micah said upon realizing who the visitor truly was, “Welcome back to Dreamflux Reef, Miss Robin.”

“Martini with a twist,” Gallagher suddenly announced, garnishing the drink with the freshly peeled lemon peel as he slid the now completed drink to the idol singer, “Little heavier on the gin, to your preference.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Micah, Mr. Gallagher,” Robin said as she took the drink a bit eagerly, “Though how did you know that I was coming?”

“Sleepie told me. Saw you coming down the street a bit earlier,” Gallagher said, already returning his ingredients to their proper places. 

Micah sighed mentally.

He figured that explained the odd pause from earlier. Still though, it was easy to forget how much Gallagher really saw with that monstrous pet of his. 

Both men waited for Robin to sample her drink before continuing the conversation, though Micah noticed the corner of Gallagher’s mouth twitching upwards at her pleased expression. 

After a moment, it was the bartender that broke the silence first. 

“So, what did he say?” 

In contrast to Micah’s confusion, Robin’s response was swift, “Old Man Oti agreed to your terms. You have a place at the negotiation table.”

Gallagher hummed to himself, “Good. They took the bait. Your brother?”

“Lady Bonajade released him as promised,” Robin said, though her wings sunk slightly toward the floor, “I… don’t know where he is now.”

The edges of Gallagher’s expression softened a minute degree, “That’s probably for the best.”

“Old Oti? Bonajade?” Micah repeated tersely as Robin continued indulging herself, “Do you mind actually sharing what you’ve been doing to the person who will probably have to pick up the pieces?”

Gallagher seemed to consider it in his head for a moment before he eventually relented, “I’ve… incentivized the Family to allow a little more cooperation.”

Micah suddenly found the rest of his alcohol far too attractive.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” he grumbled, “Start explaining.”

The bartender sighed, “You want the long version or the short version.”

“Long,” Micah said, “For Dreamflux’s sake.”

Gallagher snorted, “Well, Miss Robin here was kind enough to lend her assistance in leaking a piece of information to the IPC key to making the Family shit their pants, for lack of a better term.”

“Lemme guess,” Micah said, “The whole people can now die in the dream thing?”

“Yes siree,” Gallagher said, “After that, it was just a measure of applying a little extra incentive with some information I picked up working as a bloodhound for the past, I dunno, decade.”

A laugh as dry as the vermouth she was drinking sounded from the lady next to him.

“Little,” Robin mused a tad morosely, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much blackmail in one place.”

It was enough dirt to completely upend the Family from within, the hard-won fruits of a vestigial plan put into motion well before Mikhail passed away.

“Semantics, ma’am, but there was a reason I put up with the Bloodhound schtick for so long,” Gallagher said, “From there it was simple to get the right people to agree to let little old me run the show, at least for a bit.”

“Let you run the—“ Micah’s vocal chords suddenly failed him, shooting up from his seat when he realized what exactly Gallagher had done under his nose.

“Gallagher, you staged a fucking coup!?” Micah almost shouted, slamming his hands against the bar. He would have knocked his mug over to if it wasn’t immediately arrested by the bartender’s quick reflexes.

“Coup?” Gallagher said, testing the word as he casually moved to refill the half-empty mug, “Mikky would prefer the word consequences.”

“Why didn’t you tell me!?” Micah grated.

“Because you’d just try and nag me to death,” Gallagher said plainly, sliding the renewed beverage back in front of the gravekeeper, “Like you’re doing right now.” 

Micah held his glare for a full three seconds.

“Please, Mr. Micah,” Robin interjected, “The idea wasn’t wholly his.”

Micah turned to the singer with confusion, anger, exasperation, and everything else between contorting his features, “And what reason would you have to help this old dog actively undermine the— your Family.”

Robin didn’t falter in the slightest.

“In ignoring the people of Dreamflux Reef and permitting my brother and the Dreammaster to do as they pleased, the Family has failed to uphold the most basic principles of Harmony,” Robin explained, “Penacony is at a critical juncture and I believe that a… fresh perspective is needed now more than ever.”

“And do they know you basically stabbed them in the back?”

“Perhaps,” Robin said, comically nonchalant as she swirled the rest of her drink, “But I am their precious and only voice of Harmony, whether they like it or not.”

Micah digested the singers words for a few more seconds. 

Then he slumped back into his seat, took his mug in his hands, and downed the entire thing in a single pull.

“You two are insane,” Micah grumbled, as the empty mug hit the bar once again, “Efficient. Scarily efficient. But insane.”

An unshackled hound and an uncaged bird shared a brief glance. Then a gruff chuckle stirred with a sonorous giggle floated across the bar.

“I think the word you’re looking for is impatient,” Robin offered.

“That, and really pissed off,” Gallagher added helpfully.

Micah just planted his face in his hands as the bartender took his mug for another refill.

If his liver failed him in the next two weeks, he was definitely blaming it on these two.

Thin, gloved fingers traced over cold metal as a pair of experienced red-violet eyes did one more look over for any sign of imperfections. 

“Hmph.”

Satisfied with her administrations, the miniature briefcase clicked shut; it wouldn’t do if the item within got sullied before being returned to its rightful owner.

Quickly and quietly, a coated woman slid the container off the table and turned to leave.

She didn’t get very far.

“And… where are you headed?”

The woman muttered a curse to herself. Then answered.

“A brief little escapade.”

The low voice grunted.

“You don’t take brief little escapades.”

She pouted. Maybe a bit hyperbolically.

“Well, a little someone informed me we’ve become a team of six again. I don’t see the harm in going to double check.”

Silence. Then a sigh.

“…Give him my regards.”

A quiet, measured laugh filled the room for the briefest moment.

“Of course. I’ll be back before the next script starts.”

The low voice grunted again and she knew that was all the answer she was going to get.

The woman chuckled as she left the safehouse; never in her wildest dreams did she think she’d be going to visit the Planet of Festivities for a housecall… let alone willingly make a housecall at all.

Fate was amusing like that sometimes. 

At least… when it wasn’t written out by their adorable little cat.

Chapter Text

The first thing Caelus felt was cold.

That was… odd. 

He hadn’t been cold in while. Not since he received the Stellaron at least.

Then Caelus felt pain. 

It was an ache that shot through his arms, his legs, his everything. He didn’t dare even try to move and, for a far longer than he cared to keep track of, remained still. 

Eventually, the full-body pain slowly ebbed away, leaving the lingering cold to fill the sensational void it left behind.

Which, again, was odd.

It was only when Caelus realized that the ever-whispering murmurs he had become accustomed to over the past months had fell silent did he understand why he felt cold.

Caelus could barely feel the Stellaron. He knew it was still there and very much alive, though it was reduced to nothing but a constant hum beneath his chest. 

It seemed that the World Cancer did have a limit… if stopping the full brunt of an attack borne from the genesis of a new world could be considered a limit in any reasonable capacity.

So Caelus resigned himself to cold and silence.

For about five more semi-blissful minutes.

“Wake up… WAKE UP!”

Admittedly, Caelus’ mind was still a little bit of a scrambled mess.

The fact that it sounded like March was shouting right next to his ear did not help that scrambled mess at all. 

“…HEY CAELUS! WAKE UP! THE SUN’S FRYING YOUR BUTT!”

The first words he tried to speak weren’t words. Rather, they exited his mouth as an odd mixture of a hoarse whisper and gravel.

“Mrrch. Shddup.”

Even incapacitated as he was, Caelus felt a presence that was very close to his ear suddenly jump up.

“Wait! You’re awake?!” He groggily heard March exclaim, “I didn’t think that would actually work!”

His eyelids creaked open, though he quickly closed them again as the light of the room blinded his unadjusted pupils.  

A low groan filled the room as Caelus forced his lead limbs into motion.

Pink movement entered his blurred periphery. Caelus felt pressure on his shoulder for a split second before a sharp yelp pierced through his head and rocketed him to lucidity.

The delicate hand intended to support him shot back like it had touched a stove-top.

“Caelus, you’re FREEZING!” March nearly yelled as she shook out her hand.

Caelus’ furrowed brow rapidly blinked away any lingering weariness as he sat up unassisted. He must have been much, much colder than he thought if March of all people was burned by mere skin contact.

His hand palmed around his bedsheets, luckily not finding any signs of ice.

“Are you OK?” Caelus asked hoarsely.

If his memory served him correctly, there was a way to fix this. He just hadn’t had to do it since he had gotten his Stellaron and he hoped to at least three different Aeons (Aha was not one of them) it still worked.

“I’m fine, just a bit surprised,” March said, even though Caelus could clearly see the archer massaging a notably red area of her palm.

He didn’t press any further for her pride’s sake as their ice-wielding archer, peeling off the trash-can printed covers and noting that he was in his own bed on the Express.

“I’m guessing we made it out of the Order’s Dream?”

“Yes siree!” March said, “You’ve been out for a week.”

Caelus paused at the word week, but his next words were interrupted when a glass of water was shoved into his face.

“At least drink something before you ask me about your girlfriend,” March chided, “You sound like a dried up frog.”

Caelus took the glass. The fact the water within didn’t freeze in his grip meant that his heating method was working, though he did wonder if March had noticed that his cabin room’s lights had dimmed slightly. 

As instructed, he took he sip. Then he asked what was plaguing his mind since he had first quietly slipped back into consciousness.

“Have you heard from Firefly?”

March pursed her lips.

“We got a single anonymous text message a few days ago, though all it said was: Standing by for express delivery,” March reported, “Other than that, we haven’t heard anything.”

Caelus nodded, then said nothing more.

Over the next few minutes, Caelus fought off intrusive thoughts about his better half as he tried to listen to March’s spiel about what had transpired while he was asleep. She told him everything from how the Express had found him and dragged him back to the train from his dreampool, how the situation with the Followers of Order had resolved, and finally how the current political situation on the Reverie looked more like a political powder-keg primed for explosion.

Caelus bit back a sigh, settling for a expression a degree more lithic than usual (though it wasn’t like anyone could tell). It seemed like Penacony wasn’t done chewing on them quite yet.

And to think this was supposed to be a vacation; Aha must be in stitches.

His thoughts were interrupted by a second item being shoved into his face. This time a neatly folded stack of his usual outfit.

“Dan Heng hosed you off and helped get you into your jammies, in case you were wondering,” March told him, “Your stuff was drenched in gold goo. We had to send it dry-cleaning!”

To be honest, he had been wondering but hadn’t voiced the thought in case it made things a bit awkward.

“Thanks,” Caelus said simply.

Then he stared at March blankly. When the girl didn’t get the hint, he starting turning up his blankness dial to maximum.

Caelus had about gotten to what he considered weapons-grade IX-level deadpan when the message finally broke through March’s skull.

“Oh! Right!” March sputtered, “Sorry! Ms. Himeko told me not to let you out of my sight. Speaking of, I should go and tell them you’re awake.”

March quickly made toward the door, but paused to turn around to wave a finger at Caelus.

“Don’t go anywhere!”

Caelus nodded.

“Nuh uh,” March said, “Say it!”

Caelus sighed, then repeated her words like a well-trained puppy.

“I’m not going to go anywhere.”

“Good,” and with that the archer strode out of the room. The door shut behind her.

Caelus just shook his head with a chuckle, preparing to take his shirt off…

Then the door opened again and a head of pink hair reappeared from the side of the doorframe, eyes narrowed conspiratorially.

“Just making sure...”

Caelus frowned from halfway within his large T-shirt. It was time for Secret Weapon M7B: March-7th-Begone. 

“MR. YANG! MARCH IS BEING A PERVERT!”

Caelus watched in pure satisfaction as the girl’s face flushed red and vanished.

“I’M NOT! I’M NOT!” March screeched down the hall as she ran toward the lounge car faster than a Xianzhou starskiff.

Surveillance removed, Caelus quickly stood up and got dressed. Then his golden gaze swept twice around his room before settling on an odd indent on the cushioned chair placed in the corner of his room.

“Wolfie? You there?”

Sure enough, a familiar, drill-haired girl blinked into existence with a cloud of aether particles. She was sitting on his cushioned armchair, slouched over a mobile game console with one leg hooked over the arm rest in a display of truly atrocious posture. 

Her jacket was fully zipped up and her steamy breaths were visible, meaning the Stellaron Hunter’s hacker had probably been here for a while. Caelus figured that the only reason March hadn’t noticed the temperature drop caused by ‘remedial energy measures’ was due to her natural disposition to ice.

“‘Bout time you readied up,” Silver Wolf muttered, eyes not leaving her screen, “Ever think about investing in a space heater? Or some bean bags?”

Caelus huffed a snort as he threw on his coat.

‘Express Delivery’ was a slang term the Stellaron Hunters used to signify that Silver Wolf was going to personally port them from one place to another. Caelus had known what it meant the second the words had left March’s mouth.

“Thought about it,” Caelus answered.

“Think about it more then,” Silver Wolf quipped, “I’m dying here.”

“Then let’s go,” Caelus said once he made sure everything in his digital inventory was in place.

Silver Wolf’s eyes quirked upward as her lips broke into a smirk, “Oh? What happened to ‘I’m not going anywhere’?‘

Caelus faked clearing his throat, “Ahem. Rules are made to be broken.”

Silver Wolf hopped up, hooking her game console to its ‘holster’ on her hip before she reached Caelus.

“Bet. Was worried you were making too many Paragon choices.” 

Caelus just rolled his eyes as both of them vanished, leaving only fading aether in their wake.

Two minutes later, the door to his room slid open once more. This time, however, it revealed a puzzled red-haired woman.

With a long-suffering sigh, The Astral Navigator closed the door, then opened it again. When she confirmed that there was indeed no one in the room, she looked across her shoulder to her fellow pink-haired trailblazer.

“March, where is Caelus?”

The trailblazer in question stepped a bit closer, “What do you mean, he’s right— WHERE IS HE!?”

Himeko resisted the urge to facepalm as the archer butted her way into the room, Dan Heng following suit just to make sure that their friend was well and truly gone and not playing a prank at March’s expense.

“He was right here!” March said, pointing to the now-very vacant bed where Caelus’ discarded pajamas now lay, “I even made him promise to sit still!”

“I thought I told you not to let him out of your sight?” Himeko stressed. If she was a little cross, she felt she could be excused.

“I mean, I did! But I had to let you guys know he was awake!”

At her defense, Dan Heng didn’t say a word. Instead, he just reached into his pocket, pulled out his black phone, and held the smoking gun that killed March’s terrible argument in her face.

March wanted to cry.

Caelus was so going to pay for this.

A pitch black abyss met Caelus as the world on the other end of their warp blinked into ‘view’.

“Crap,” a voice from the void said, “Forgot I shut the power off.”

A small orb, courtesy of Silver Wolf’s techno-wizardry, illuminated the surroundings, casting sharp shadows that undulated with its gentle midair bobbing.

From what Caelus could tell, Silver Wolf had ported them to an abandoned manufacturing zone. Based on the scallop-shaped tubs left abandoned on dusty conveyor belts in various states of disrepair, it seemed this area was dedicated to building dreampools. Dusty catwalks hung below the ceiling, visible only to Caelus due to the mesh-like shadows created by light filtering through gridded metal.

Silver Wolf didn’t say another word as she began navigating through the haphazard maze that was only one degree removed from a wreckage.

Caelus whistled as he took stock (as well as he could, at least) of his cluttered surroundings, “I’m glad the basement dweller inside you is still going strong.”

He ducked underneath a broken down arm of machinery sent swinging toward his head by the hacker in front of him.

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, trash driver.”

The trash diver didn’t admit that there were several ‘points of interest’ he would be digging through later.

Eventually, the tight spaces they were weaving through opened up into a much more spacious clearing free of industrial apparatus. Silver Wolf’s orb revealed they were approaching a set of doors leading to what looked to once be administrative offices. 

“Uh, so where exactly are we?” Caelus asked.

“Abandoned dreampool production zone several hundred floors deep underneath the Reverie,” Silver Wolf said, heading towards the door nearly hidden by a bunch of dusty furniture in front of it, “We needed the dreamfluid components to infiltrate the Dream.”

Sliding between a narrow pathway between two desks and a table, Silver Wolf tested a sleek metal knob that was very much at odds with the old rusted door with an experimental jiggle. Then she did something with her wrist console and a holographic keypad appeared at her waiting fingertips. Her hand blurred as she inputted what had to be a 24 digit PIN code in less than three seconds.

Caelus heard several magnetic locks click open as the door swung ajar. If the security seemed a bit overkill, he didn’t comment on it.

He remembered Kafka always telling him to expect the worst kind of company, and the saying was the closest thing to a shared religion between the Stellaron Hunters.

Caelus followed the hacker inside an office space that had been very much lived in for a while. It was small enough that Caelus’ eyes swept from one end to the other in a scant second.

The room was surprisingly clean and it was clear that the furniture outside had been dragged out to make enough living space for its unexpected occupants. An old porcelain bathtub filled with still faintly glowing liquid sat in the center of the office-turned-hideout. Connected to its base, thick bundles of wires and cords ran along the floor to a miniature skyline of computer consoles and stacks of non-perishable foods sitting in one corner of the room. It’s owner was rather clear based on the copious amounts of stylized stickers that adorned each of the console towers and the back of the oversized monitors.

On the other end of the room, two portable cots had been set up. One of them, specifically the one flanked on both sides by beeping medical equipment, was occupied.

Perhaps he had gotten too used to her appearance in the dream: the appearance of a girl with a vibrancy that matched the electrifying energy of the bright dreamscape surrounding her.

As such, it made it all the more harder for Caelus stomach the sight in front of him.

Firefly was dressed in a light green hospital gown patterned with her namesake, a gift from Caelus on one of her birthdays. She was tucked neatly beneath a fresh, notably unwrinkled white sheet. An IV line of glowing green fluid ran from her wrist into a whirring machine and then back into her body, the tubes rising and falling with the ventilator that currently assisted her shallow breathing. A web of glowing veins crawled from her neck and up to her face, far more prominently than they should have been.

Caelus’ lips set in a grim line, etched deeply on his stony expression.

He had forgotten that this was her reality. 

“I couldn’t get the pod here,” Wolf said, voice uncharacteristically subdued as Caelus stiffly approached his other, “That’s why I was stressing eco last round.”

Caelus ran his hand against the part of her paler than usual cheek that wasn’t obstructed by her breathing mask.

She was missing her warmth.

“How long has she been like this?” Caelus muttered.

“Since the fight,” Silver Wolf said.

“How long has she been on energy infusion?”

“Since the fight,” Silver Wolf said again.

“How much longer until you run out of resuscitation fluid?”

“Two days.”

An unsteady breath escaped Caelus. The fight had been a week ago, at least according to March.

Which meant Firefly had been on life support for an entire week.

Caelus’ gaze didn’t leave her closed sunsets, watching Firefly take three whole breaths before speaking again. 

“Why didn’t you just leave?”

The ensuing list of answers was as equally brisk as Caelus’ words. 

“One, she’d kill me if she didn’t get to say goodbye. Two, I don’t want to risk moving her until she’s awake. Three, her script… isn’t over.”

Caelus’ brow furrowed.

“She told you about the deaths, I’m guessing.”

Silver Wolf crossed her arms, “Of course, Mr. Unforgettable Gains.”

That attempt of humor would’ve hit its mark if Caelus wasn’t standing over the unresponsive body of the person he loved.

The fact that that unresponsive body was now on a dwindling timer didn’t help his current sense of humor (or lack thereof) much at all.

“The Express won’t let her die,” Caelus said after a moment.

“You telling that to me? Or yourself?” The hacker said as she checked several diagnostic values displayed on the medical equipment.  

Caelus didn’t answer since another voice cut through the hideout.

“Hello, Stellaron Hunters!”

Two pairs of eyes snapped toward the door they had accidentally left slightly ajar, finding a sliver of light shining through the crack.

“We know you’re in there,” the female voice said again, projected cleanly through some sort of loudspeaker, “My associate and I want to have a talk.”

Caelus knew that voice.

And, more importantly, the Interastal Peace Corporation he knew was associated with it.

“Fuck fuck fuckity fuck! I scrambled my trail,” Silver Wolf cussed. Quickly, she brought up a holographic screen displaying surveillance footage of the outside room.

Two women were standing in the clearing outside. One with light pink hair and a large hat that Caelus didn’t recognize. The other with white-red hair and a trotter at her feet that Caelus did recognize. Both were lit by some unseen light source, seemingly from above.

Interestingly, Aventurine was absent, but that was a puzzle for later.

Caelus frowned, “That’s Topaz.”

“Topaz? As in the Stoneheart?” Silver Wolf repeated. 

Caelus didn’t have a chance to respond as Topaz’s voice interrupted them again.

“That includes you, Mr. Trailblazer!”

Silver Wolf’s eyes nearly narrowed into slits as comprehension dawned on her. She flicked her hand-console toward Caelus and translucent rays of light shot from her palm interface, immediately homing in and highlighting something small attached to the inside of his coat.

“They pinged you for a gank,” Silver Wolf hissed as Caelus removed what was clearly some sort of tracking chip from the inner fabric of his jacket.

“March sent my clothes out for dry-cleaning,” Caelus muttered as he crushed the device between his two fingers, “They must have tagged me then.”

“Please don’t keep us waiting too long! Again, we just want to talk!”

Even if Caelus knew that was Topaz, the problem was that he was familiar enough with movies and his own life experiences to know that when someone just wanted to talk, it usually didn’t just end at the sole act of verbal communication. 

“The only one they know is here is me, then,” Caelus said as he strode to the door, “I’ll go have a chat. Do what you need to do to get ready to port to the Astral Express.”

“Your friends won’t mind a few stowaways?”

“Nah. And the IPC wouldn’t dare pull something there.”

“Got it,” Silver Wolf said, tossing him a small earpiece, “Good luck have fun.”

The fact that she then shoved a large wad of bubble gum into her mouth was damning. Nonetheless, Caelus slipped the communicator into his ear and put on his best ‘dealing with the IPC’ face.

On the bright side, at least it wasn’t Skott.

“Uh… hi? Can I help you?” Caelus said as he stepped out from behind the door, shielding his eyes from the multiple lights shined down on him from above. To his bemusement, they were tactical flashlights at the end of at least a dozen IPC rifles.

It really was just like the movies.

He closed the door behind him, leveling a dry look at Topaz as he motioned toward the IPC goons pointing guns at him from the catwalks.

“Is that really necessary?”

To his surprise, it was Ms. Big Hat that spoke up.

“Security measures, I hope you understand,” the pink haired woman said.

His eyes switched targets, but remained equally dry.

“And you are?” Caelus ventured.

“You can call me Jade. Like your acquaintance Topaz here, I am a Stoneheart for the IPC,” the woman introduced, “We wanted to have a word with you about your associates.”

Caelus noted she said about. Not with.

Jade of Credit. Careful, her identity checks out. Silver Wolf’s voice fed him through his earpiece a second later.

Caelus frowned. He still decided to go for the Hail Mary though.

“What associates?”

Topaz actually laughed out loud.

“C’mon Caelus. Are you telling us you somehow get lost on floor B136 on the way to the bathroom? That’d be a Pier Point World Record.”

Caelus actually did know a certain someone in mind that could definitely set that record ten times over.

“Mr. Caelus, we know there are Stellaron Hunters in that room behind you,” Jade said, cutting straight to the point, “Two, in fact. And one that is very dear to you and probably needs help right about now.”

The thin veneer of joviality lining his golden eyes instantly evaporated at what Caelus interpreted as a thinly veiled threat. It was an amazing feat of self-restraint that his bat or the Lance of Preservation didn’t appear in his hand.

Bait used to be believable. He heard Silver Wolf warn dryly. Keep playing dumb. Really dumb.

“No idea what you mean,” Caelus lied, the sudden curtness in his tone edging a bit further into hostility than he might have intended.

“Easy, Caelus,” Topaz placated, “Like we said, we just want to talk.”

“I don’t think guns are very talkative, Ms. Stoneheart,” Caelus grumbled as he motioned to the several IPC riflemen for a second time, “So let’s quit the good cop bad cop routine so we can figure out if we’re going to be burning bridges today.”

Topaz winced. Then Jade stepped forward.

“We want to make a deal,” Jade said with little preamble, “One that you might find quite reasonable.”

Caelus would be the judge of that, but let silence serve his answer.

“To preface this, the primary reason why we’re here is because of that Stellaron you happen to a have in your possession,” Jade said, “Given your relationship with the Stellaron Hunters, the higher-ups have deemed you a higher than acceptable liability. In other words, a threat.”

“I’m a trailblazer. Why do you think I have any relationship with the Hunters?” Caelus ventured carefully.

“Because we know you were once one of them,” Jade explained simply, “There’s a hole in our criminal database where a fifth hunter should be. A hole that your bat-wielding silhouette fills a bit too nicely.”

Silver Wolf’s incredibly colorful vocabulary loudly drowned out Caelus’ own mental cursing. 

Big Hat Bitch could be bluffing. Don’t give ‘em anything. I just need two minutes max.

Golden eyes started momentarily tracing Numby’s wandering path around Topaz’s legs as Caelus thought of his next response. He had little idea of this Jade figure’s combat capability, but he knew that the pet trotter was far, far more of a threat than Topaz’s personal sidearm.

“I feel like you’d be shooting at me if you believed that,” he pointed out.

“We do believe it, Mr. Caelus. But as a Stoneheart, I specialize in… creating opportunities,” Jade continued, “I don’t see a threat, but rather a chance for us to help each other.”

For several good reasons, that line offered Caelus zero comfort. Especially coming from the mouth of an IPC Stoneheart.

“Fine. If I was the super-duper-extra-hypothetical person that was the super-duper-extra-hypothetical 5th Stellaron Hunter you were looking for, what super-duper-extra-hypothetical deal would you make me?”

“This may seem like a lot, but please bear with me,” Jade began, “We would like the Stellaron, assistance from the Astral Express in regards to the coming negotiations for Penacony, and a verbal agreement that the Stellaron Hunters will remain out of the operations of the IPC.”

Caelus’ expression remained unchanged. With demands like that, they better be offering nothing less than a cure for EL—

“In exchange, we will not attempt to arrest the individuals in the room behind you, provide immediate medical support for your acquaintance, and I will personally oversee acquiring a cure for ELS.”

His impulsive side, the side of him that dove through trash cans and said random things at the weirdest times, almost said yes then and there.

His rational side, the side of him that was beaten into him by Kafka and further tempered by Firefly, yanked back the impulsive side by its raccoon tail.

The inner conflict must have cracked his expression, because the corners of Jade’s glossed lips quirked upward every so slightly.

It reminded Caelus of a snake.

“I see you find this agreeable?”

Caelus quickly restored his statuesque expression, “Is there room for negotiations?”

“No,” Jade said, “This is a one-time offer. As is.”   

Caelus waited for Silver Wolf’s input. The fact that it never came meant she was similarly conflicted. 

Part of Caelus would like nothing to do with the Stellaron, but at the same time he knew it was important as both a Trailblazer and a Stellaron Hunter. Handing it off to the IPC was also a big risk given their track record. Taking part of the negotiations on the Express side was doable, but he was not —could not— speak for the Stellaron Hunters. 

That was simply not how they operated.

On the flip side, Firefly didn’t have a lot of time left and an automatic out of their current predicament was tempting.

And that cure.

Firefly could have her future.

They could have their future.

“I…”

Jade’s hat dipped in his direction, “Yes, Mr. Caelus?”

He trailed off as his mind once again reigned him back. What would Dan Heng think? Hell, what would Kafka think?

Gears began churning faster.

The Stoneheart in front of them offered them solutions. But all of those solutions were short-term. Moreover, Jade hadn’t promised a cure, she promised the acquisition of one. 

In exchange, the IPC got Penacony. They got their truce. They got their Stellaron. They got everything to benefit in the long-term. And there was no guarantee they wouldn’t mess with the Hunters, or the Express for that matter, in the future.

The deal was lopsided. No matter how enticing it was. No matter what angle he looked at it. 

Caelus grit his teeth together as his digital grip tightened against his bat; he knew what he needed to say.

It was just so hard to say it. 

“Come now, Mr. Caelus,” Jade prodded, “We both know we don’t have all day.”

Before he opened his lips, a memory flickered like candle flame across the forefront of his mind. 

Of hot cocoa, sharks, and stars.

“I think… if my fate is to be overcome… I’d like it to be by my own hands.”

Caelus sighed; he was making this a lot more difficult than it had to be.

A fierce glare, flaring gold from re-ignition, met inscrutable silvery blue. 

He had his answer.

“Again… I‘m not a Stellaron Hunter.”

Caelus heard a quiet ‘phew’ from the other end of his earpiece. Opposite to him, Jade’s eyes widened in surprise and he knew the Stoneheart had read the true meaning of his words.

I refuse, because it is not my right to make that decision.

Topaz glanced uneasily at Jade, who hid her pursed expression behind the brim of her hat.

“Well well, Mr. Caelus, it seems you’ve done something few ever have,” she said, her voice careful, almost slithering.

Her hat lifted, revealing eyes that were unreadably sharp and far less kinder.

“You’ve surprised me.”

The temperature dropped. Caelus’ digital hand crawled around his bat.

Jade made a motion with her hand as Topaz withdrew her sidearm. Caelus heard the safeties of the rifles above him disengage.

“I do apologize for troubling you over such a misunderstanding, but now we’ll have to ask you to stand aside,” Jade said, “If you aren’t a Stellaron Hunter, then you won’t have any problem if we apprehend the two fugitives behind you, right?” 

All outbound signals just got caged! Came Silver Wolf’s voice. I can’t port us out!

The hacker’s voice wasn’t panicked, but it wasn’t calm. 

Caelus took back what he said earlier; he’d have preferred Skott over this any day.

“Is there any way I can convince you to not do what you’re about to do?” Caelus said, “At least, you know, without the bat?”

“I’m afraid not. The IPC has made their stance very clear,” Jade cooed, “And besides, I don’t think that Stellaron of yours is in any shape to be taking on two Stonehearts at once.”

“Please don’t make this any harder than it has to be,” Topaz pleaded (seemingly genuinely, but honestly Caelus didn’t know or care to know anymore) as Numby flew up above her shoulder on sparkling wings, “We’re just doing our jobs.”

A cane that Caelus was certain was a weapon appeared in Jade’s hand, tapping against the concrete floor lightly.

“I thought the Astral Express were enemies of the Stellaron Hunters, Mr. Caelus,” Jade mused, though with words clear with intent, “So what reason do you have to stop us now?” 

Viper eyes gleamed with azure venom as the Stoneheart tightened the noose of her verbal trap around Caelus’ neck. 

“It’s time to decide, Mr. Caelus. Are you a Trailblazer? Or a Stellaron Hunter?”

For several eternally long seconds, two Stonehearts and at least two dozen armed men waited for a golden-eyed trailblazer to give his answer.

Then a dry chuckle cut through the cold air like a thermal knife.

-30 degrees. That was what Kafka had told him his core temperature was when he had woken up to a room encrusted with frost and frozen to his bed. 

Back then, Kafka theorized the absence of his Stellaron left a Stellaron-sized void within him, a void large and deep enough to suck energy straight out of the air to futilely supplant the nigh infinite energy source that was supposed to be there. 

It was just one of the many things the receptacle had taken at face value during his earliest days. But when Firefly inevitably noticed his condition after a joke he made in poor taste, she had taught him some methods to keep his body temperature at a level that was more suitable for everyone living around him.

Fittingly, it was also Firefly that had taught him that his temporary ‘affliction’ had strengths. 

He could survive some of the most hellish environments that even his already impervious constitution couldn’t protect him from.

He could withstand the sheer heat that Firefly pumped out of SAM, allowing him to fight beside her in the most literal sense.

He could even cool drinks by just holding them (as the self-declared King of Koozies).

It also enabled him to do what he was doing right now; what he had been doing ever since the conversation began thanks to his World Cancer’s inactive state.

The tactical lights trained on him from the catwalks above suddenly flickered as the guns they were attached suddenly began losing power.

“Two things,” Caelus said, as his hand discretely went behind his back, “Firstly, I don’t think it really makes a difference whether I’m a Stellaron Hunter or a Trailblazer.”

Because the Nameless, at least under Ms. Himeko, would always help those that helped others. And the Stellaron Hunters just did Penacony a pretty big solid.

Then, to the confusion of many, an easy grin split Caelus’ face.

“And second, is it just me, or is it getting a bit chilly in here?”

Before anyone could figure out whether or not that question was figurative, rhetorical, or literal, Caelus opened the metaphorical gate to his weakened Stellaron and let the unrestrained vacuum within pull.

The room was plunged into the darkness as the abrupt evacuation of energy from the surroundings caused the air moisture to instantly freeze, manifesting as a sudden shockwave of ice that billowed outward and forced the Stonehearts to shield themselves.

“All men! Fire!” Jade yelled up to the catwalk.

No gunfire pierced the room, only curses as several IPC soldiers realized there armaments were suddenly depowered from the sudden energy loss.

“Numby!” Topaz called out, illuminating the darkness with bright flashes from her laser pistol. The trotter’s glowing wings spread wider as the Stoneheart finished her order, “Reinfo-“

A crackling blue bat carved a swirl of lightning through the darkness as it hurtled forth, swatting the small trotter out of the air and sending it careening into the machinery behind them. 

Caelus heard Topaz scream in alarm. He’d (maybe) apologize later, but he knew trotters were made out of some tough stuff.

Jade’s cane extended, cutting a wide purple swath through the blackness as the lethal segments whipped towards Caelus’ last known position. Caelus ducked low, revealing himself with an orange glow of amber as he summoned his lance at the ready.

He had gotten more than enough energy from his surroundings for a single, decisive strike. And it would be more than enough to buy Silver Wolf enough time to get Firefly to safety.

Amber bled into gold as he crouched, his legs tense as he prepared to lunge toward the base of the whi—

“Listen.”

The sudden, feminine whisper did not cut through the air. It pierced through it like a bullet, coiling around the hearts of everyone who heard it and strangling every action to a grinding, immediate halt.

For a second, the unknown force held everyone and everything in complete silence, the only sound being the humming quantum and flickering flames of the restrained clash between violet and gold.

Then Caelus heard heels against the hard concrete floor. A measured, almost leisurely clack clack clack that drew closer and closer.

It him, it had been a life-saving comfort on multiple occasions.

To everyone else, it was almost certainly a death knell. 

The fourth Stellaron Hunter made her presence known by flicking her hand outward, extending bright magenta threads that ensnared every soldier up on the catwalks. 

Soon Caelus heard their guns re-priming, but this time he knew they weren’t pointed at him.

“The lights, darling.”

Caelus knew she was talking to Silver Wolf, not him. Sure enough, dim ceiling lamps in the room flickered on not even a second later, revealing every hypnotized IPC soldier with their weapon trained on the Stonehearts under buzzing yellow lights.

“Kafka,” Jade addressed, retracting her whip as the initial spirit whisper wore off, “A pleasure for you to join us this evening.”

Caelus knew the words were meaningless pleasantries. Jade was reassessing, which was smart.

There were several reasons why Kafka was the most wanted Stellaron Hunter, not SAM.

“Your pleasure, perhaps, but certainly my displeasure,” the former Devil Hunter countered sorely, “I came expecting a sweet little reunion, but here I am finding the IPC once again has their fingers in pies that do not belong to them.”

She then turned to Caelus, “You can put that toy away, I’ll handle this.”

Caelus’ posture straightened as his lance disappeared, though he still didn’t move himself from standing in front of the hideout’s entrance.

Kafka crossed her arms as she casually assessed her opposition.

“I’m not here on a script, but I’m beginning to understand why Elio didn’t raise too much of a fuss when I told him I was taking this detour,” Kafka said, pacing in front of Jade almost like a predator, “Us Hunters have tangoed with the IPC a few times, I’ll admit that. But we’ve never had any direct conflict with a Stoneheart…”

“The boards made their decision,” Topaz said, “It is our responsibility to enforce it.”

Kafka paused, searching magenta probing the each of the Stoneheart’s guarded eyes. Then she let an amused hum escape her lips.

“Who would’ve guessed that Diamond and the shareholders wouldn’t always see eye to eye?” Kafka observed, “Curious, but unfortunately for you… it doesn’t exactly change the terms of our new little deal.”

“I’m not here to make an offer to you,” Jade declared carefully.

“Well, I’m here to make an offer,” Kafka said, “I think it’s much simpler than yours and you’re going to listen to it.” 

Caelus noticed Topaz stiffen and bit back a sigh. Jade didn’t seem to notice.

Kafka was playing with her food again.

“So far, all of our conflicts with the IPC have been… collateral to our goals,” Kafka said, “Up until today, we’ve had no reason to go after the Corporation.”

Jade remained silent. Topaz remained silent probably because she didn’t have a choice.

Kafka uncrossed her arms, her hand idly toying with a few strands of magenta that tied to her finger tips. 

“The deal is this,” Kafka continued, her eyes watching the threads twill in her hands intently, “You walk away from this right now and I don’t start adding cornerstones to my future shopping lists.”

Jade palmed the hilt of her cane, “Is that a threat, Hunter?”

“No,” Kafka said with a shrug, meeting the Stoneheart’s eyes with her own gaze of disinterest.  

Then her index finger curled around a single magenta thread as her eyes gleamed. 

“This is.”

Without warning, Topaz’s arm shot up like a a puppet on strings, shoving the barrel of her own pistol into her open mouth. Caelus watched the Stoneheart’s eyes widen in horror, confirming that the debt collector was very much aware of what her body was doing.

“Kafka!” Caelus shouted in protest, “That’s—“

“Hush, Caelus,” Kafka chided, her eyes not leaving Jade’s, “I’m working.”

For the very first time in this entire exchange, Jade’s posture tensed. The only reason her cane didn’t leave the floor was the fact that Kafka’s finger was one pluck away from a spirit-whisper-assisted suicide.

“You wouldn’t dare!” Jade hissed. Quite literally as something seemed to slither in her voice.

“I would dare,” Kafka corrected calmly, almost eerily, “Besides, aren’t you the one that has already dared, Stoneheart?”

She pulled Topaz’s life line a bit more taut. Topaz shoved the gun further in her mouth.

“It’s time to decide, Ms. Jade,” Kafka crooned in cruel mockery of the Stoneheart’s earlier words, “Are you walking out of here with your protege? Or am I walking away with a pretty new topaz necklace?”

Luckily, Jade didn’t have to answer as a loud crash echoed from above. 

Caelus’ eyes snapped upwards to see a familiar Jadewater dragon flood across the catwalk, the torrential tide sweeping all the IPC goons off their feet and scattering them across the floor below. Dan Heng stepped onto the gridded platform a second later, spear in hand as he briefly met eyes with Caelus.

The Express had found them. 

A second crash echoed through the room, recapturing Caelus’ attention as a large double door was suddenly blown off its hinges. 

White fabric billowed as the Astral Navigator herself strode purposefully into the room followed by the Express’ battle-ready six-phased archer.

“Kafka! Enough!” Himeko barked sharply.

The Devil Hunter’s threads faded from view as she backed off, putting both of her open hands up in playful surrender.

“She’s all yours, Miss Navigator,” Kafka said as she disengaged.

Newly free, Topaz tore the gun out of her mouth, breathing wildly as she threw it aside. The second Jade saw this, her arm raised with her cane poised to retaliate—.

She froze the moment her neck suddenly found itself hostage in the hook of a different glowing red cane.

“I recommend taking a deep breath before considering your next course of action, Ms. Jade” helpfully informed Welt Yang, who had appeared behind her, “Hopefully, for your sake, it involves some deescalation.”

“Well woulda lookie here,” crowed a thick accent, drawing attention once more upwards. 

Spurs clinked against metal as Boothill strutted onto the catwalk from the opposite side of Dan Heng. In his grip was a struggling creature tied up tightly in a lasso.

“N-Numby!” Topaz yelled up at the squealing warp trotter.

The cowboy threw the trotter of the edge of the catwalk, dangling the IPC’s last hope almost like a piñata in front of them.

“Wrangled myself a real squealer, here,” Boothill drawled, his sharpened teeth on full display as he grinned at the Stonehearts, “Found this little motherfudger tryna flee the scene. If I was a betting man, I do reckon it was runnin’ off to fetch some reinforcements.”

The flailing trotter was the final nail in the coffin for the IPC. 

Recognizing a no-win situation, Jade’s weapon wisely lowered. Though Welt waited a few moments before he withdrew his own cane.

“Stellaron Hunters, you may seek temporarily asylum on the Express,” Himeko suddenly announced, “Go and your make preparations immediately.”

Caelus began to move, but was stopped when he felt a gloved hand on his shoulder.

“Ah, ah. You’re not a Stellaron Hunter, remember?” Kafka said quietly with wink, “Leave her to me, for now.”

His mentor departed hastily, disappearing into the room Caelus had spent the entire time guarding with his body.

“I see the Astral Express is making a new habit of harboring fugitives,” Jade pointed out coldly, “It’s no wonder you stopped returning my messages.”

Himeko remained staunchly unimpressed.

“If it makes you feel any better, think about it as… protecting the heroes that ensured the safety of Penacony,” Himeko offered crossly, “And, quite frankly, I don’t think you’re in any position to be testing my patience, Ms. Jade.”

“Heroes?” Jade repeated sardonically, “Did you forget how high those bounties are? Or the fact that that woman almost forced my coworker to kill herself?”

Himeko did spare a brief look at the other Stoneheart, who was still visibly shaky from the ordeal, and frowned.

“I have not forgotten. And I have my own reservations about their methods,” Himeko admitted, glancing at Caelus, “But that doesn’t excuse the fact that you attacked a Trailblazer today, no matter what his past may or may not be.”

Jade tactfully didn’t say anything. Himeko continued.

“I don’t know where you think the Astral Express stands with the IPC, especially in light of the Jarilo incident, but let me make one thing abundantly clear,” Himeko said, “There are things we do not tolerate. This is one of them. And you are exceedingly lucky I am letting this go with only a warning.”

Himeko’s eyes glinted with a light Caelus had hardly ever seen. Maybe Kafka and her shared more similarities than he wanted to admit.

“If you ever think of doing such a thing again, ask yourself this first,” said Himeko, “How many Nameless do you think there are in the universe? How many Nameless do you think work for the IPC?”

It seemed like a simple rhetorical statement, but in actuality Himeko had just verbally hung a Sword of Damocles so wide and large that the Arbiter General’s Lightning Lord could probably wield it with two hands. It was a sobering reminder of how much power her position held, being the closest thing the Nameless could call a leader.

Jade narrowed her almost slitted eyes, “The Express would openly provoke us? You may have thwarted our plans today, but tell me, what exactly is stopping the IPC from making your lives exceptionally difficult going forward?”

Hooting laughter echoed from above as a cowboy struggled to contain himself.

“As much as I hate to say, this ain’t no Wild West,” Boothill crowed, leaning against the catwalk railing and flashing is unholstered revolver at the IPC women, “There are rules here you gotta play by, miss. The same ones that are preventin’ me from collecting my dues from the IPC right here, right now.”

“Then, by all means, enlighten me.” Jade asked the entire room, “Whose rules are we playing by?”

Surprisingly, a gruff voice answered with a bitter scoff, pulling everyone’s attention toward the open door as a bartender of all people walked in. 

Even more surprising was his company, none other than Aventurine of Stratagems who looked about as impressed with his coworkers’ work as Himeko did. 

“You’re playing under mine,” declared Gallagher of Dreamflux Reef, voice as dry as gin.

Topaz’s face twisted at the sight of the other Stoneheart while Jade’s big hat tilted curiously at the new grizzled face, “And… you are?”

“Gallagher. Just Gallagher,” He introduced curtly, “I’m the closest thing Penacony has left to a Watchmaker.”

Caelus watched with some measure of schadenfreude as Jade’s slightly dumbfounded expression rapidly reconstructed itself twice.

It seems she had finally been caught off guard.

“I think we’re all tired of this little fiasco, so I’m going to keep this brief,” Gallagher muttered, “The IPC currently has no official jurisdiction here in Penacony. So if you want any chance of getting a single credit from these upcoming negotiations, I’d advise you pack it up and pretend this never happened.”

“You know you can’t afford that decision,” Jade challenged.

“There’s a lot of things Penacony can’t afford,” Gallagher said, “But if there’s one thing this place is good at, it’s scraping by.”

Gallagher then motioned to the IPC representative standing next to him, “The only reason I’m not here to personally deport you for disturbing the peace is that your friend here had the common courtesy to inform me of your shenanigans before you kicked off a second battle between Aeons in the basement of my hotel.”

Jade held her gaze with the bartender for only a few seconds before it inevitably faltered, then she fixed Aventurine with a resigned yet oddly not surprised glare.

“You bet against us,” she observed more than accused.

Aventurine of Stratagems unconvincingly plead his innocence by holding out his hands wide in poorly concealed contempt, “I told you. I don’t make bad bets.”

Then the gambler frowned.

“Your plan failed, Jade,” Aventurine said bluntly, ”I managed to salvage it. Barely. So let’s go before we lose anymore ground than we already have.”

Jade let out one last withering sigh before she turned around to the soaking wet soldiers that were just beginning to peel themselves off the concrete floor.

“We’re leaving.”

Everyone in the room let out a breath as the IPC began departing without another word. Boothill cut the hanging trotter loose, the hanging pet falling into its owner’s waiting, thankful hands.

Jade was the first Stoneheart to leave, striding out of the room without looking back.

Caelus caught Topaz’s eyes for just a second, quick enough that he could see her lips mouth the word ‘sorry.’ He frowned and averted his eyes.

He didn’t think sorry was going to cut it this time. Not for him, at least.

Aventurine was the last go, exchanging a brief nod with Himeko before disappeared after his coworkers. 

Only when the last of the IPC soldiers filed out did the Express let out a collective breath.

Gallagher huffed, “God damn, how did Mikky deal with this shit.”

He then turned to Caelus.

“I owe you a drink, kiddo. Sorry for using you and your girl as glorified bait,” the bartender said, “I needed to get the IPC in a hard place before negotiations started.” 

Caelus blinked, “Huh?”

Gallagher quirked an eyebrow at the trailblazer’s open confusion, then he looked toward Himeko, “Didn’t you all tell him what was going on?”

“We were… supposed to,” Himeko said with a tired chuckle.

“Yeah,” March echoed, her prismatic eyes shooting daggers into Caelus, “But then Mr. Lovestruck ran off before we could actually tell him anything and left me to dry!”

Caelus looked at Himeko. Then at March. Then at Welt. Then again at Himeko.

For the record. Silver Wolf said in his ear, reminding Caelus he still had the earpiece in. I knew nothing of this.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Caelus mumbled, “So you all knew…”

“That this was a trap?” Dan Heng said downwards, still on the catwalk above, “Indeed.”

“Mr. Aventurine warned us beforehand,” Welt explained, “After that, it wasn’t too hard to hack into the tracking chip they put in your coat.”

“Goal was for you to spring the trap, then swoop in and catch them red-handed,” Gallagher admitted, “I guess the reason why we were late was because of that slight… miscommunication.”

“Oh,” Caelus said after he had finished processing what he had been told.

Then his head swiveled toward Himeko.

“Does this mean I can get out of being grounded for breaking the rules?”

The whole group burst into laughter, Himeko included.

“Nice try, Caelus, nice try.”

Turns out, he was still grounded. Just for the day, though.

Not that it really mattered because right now his bed was currently occupied by a very important person. As such, it wasn’t like he was going to be willingly leaving his room any time soon.

Himeko and Welt were in the middle of a serious talk with Kafka at the current moment, a talk that had lasted the better part of three hours. Silver Wolf was who knows where, but it was likely she was keeping an eye on this room at all times. March and Dan Heng had disembarked to go buy needed supplies for their bed-ridden guest.

So, with literally nothing to do, Caelus sat here, the grimace marring his stony expression growing deeper with every slow rise and fall of Firefly’s chest.

She hadn’t so much as stirred upon being moved from the hideout to his room. Silver Wolf had assured him she could turn the Astral Express’ fuel into a jury-rigged resuscitation fluid, but Caelus wasn’t fully on board with the idea of pumping his girlfriend full of train fuel. Not yet, at least.

Caelus leaned forward impatiently in his chair for the fifth time that hour. At this rate, he was tempted to go find Dan Heng and ask him to knock him out until Firefly woke up.

With a grunt, he pushed out of his chair and took the three and a half steps to her bedside. 

At the very least, Himeko had ruled that Firefly didn’t need the ventilator anymore. Because of this, she looked serenely peaceful, though it was the thinnest silver lining Caelus ever had the pleasure of experiencing.

Caelus’ gentle hand traced a single glowing line that journeyed across her cheek. Briefly, he contemplated employing the March method and just screaming her name by her ear until she woke up, but settled for a simple sigh instead.

She was still pale. Still cold. Still asleep.

And there was nothing he could do except wait.

Gold eyes flicked toward the medical monitor set up beside his bed. Her temperature was still dangerously low.

Caelus’ lips flattened. Though just when he was about to return to his armchair vigil, a thought struck him.

Wait. Temperature.

Long ago, Firefly had helped supplant his own lack of energy with her own entropy. Of course, being the unaware brick he was back then, he hadn’t known the cost of this action until much later. And when he had finally connected the dots between the energy transfers and the increasing frequency in which she visited her medical pod, he had quickly put a stop to it.

It had been their first ever fight, but that was a story for another day.

Caelus eyes suddenly went to his hands, hands that he knew were much warmer than they were when he woke up this morning.

Maybe, just maybe, he could return the favor.

Before the rational part of himself could convince him otherwise, he crouched down to the level of his bed. His hand quickly found Firefly’s delicate fingers and squeezed.

He had taken quite a bit of energy from the IPC confrontation earlier and the Stellaron within him was sang a bit louder now, a far cry from the near-dead hum of earlier.

Caelus hid his nervousness with a dry smirk; in a weird, ironic way, the IPC had given him exactly what he had needed.

Cautiously, Caelus released—

“And what are you doing?”

Caelus swirled his head over his shoulder to find a hacker standing over him, arms akimbo.

“Uh… expediting?” Caelus offered. Very lamely.

Silver Wolf boarded his train of thought very quickly.

“Boosting, huh?” Silver Wolf muttered to herself, “Could work.”

Caelus found himself bathed by the light of Silver Wolf’s scanner for the second time that day.

“If I had to take an educated guess, the energy you have might be ten times more potent than the entropy resuscitation fluid,” Silver Wolf said as she parsed through her readings, “And you were concerned about me using the train fuel?”

Caelus scowled, “Hey… that’s uh… different.”

Silver Wolf just rolled her eyes as she sauntered toward the medical monitor, “Go ahead. Shouldn’t be too risky. I’ll make sure to call it off if something looks wrong.”

Caelus nodded and refocused.

Cautiously, he released his restraint on the World Cancer bit by bit, gently pushing the energy from his own hand and into Firefly’s with a soft golden glow. He felt heat prickle his skin, the sensation growing hotter and hotter until he was forced to lift both of their hands above the bed in an effort to avoid actually burning something.

The monitor beeped as it registered the change in Firefly’s body temperature. The number ticked higher and higher, climbing ever closer to the range Caelus knew it should be.

By the time it got there about fifteen minutes later, it was Caelus that was having trouble breathing. With one last push, he released his grip and nearly fell over backwards.

Silver Wolf caught him mid-stagger. He would be sweating from exertion if he wasn’t back to being freezing, but even then the Stellaron was still more active than it was this morning.

“Shit, you’re cold,” Silver Wolf grunted.

Caelus ignored her as his golden eyes glanced upward once more.

She was less pale and far warmer. Her veins were much less pronounced.

But she was unfortunately still asle—

“Mmm…”

The single mumbled syllable sent a blazing current of electricity through Caelus’ artificial body.

When the girl let a second, groggy mumble escape her lips, Caelus stumbled back toward the bed, nearly pushing Silver Wolf over as he fell against the mattress.

“‘Fly?” He called out a little louder than he probably should, his breaths catching in his throat, “Firefly?” 

There was a tiny bit of movement as her heart rate spiked. Then the sheets shifted, then crinkled.

A pair of eyes sleepily fluttered open as their owner stirred. They were the most beautiful sunsets Caelus had ever seen.

“…Cae…lus?” She murmured hoarsely.

When her eyes focused a bit more on his gold, she smiled — a sleepy, drowsy thing that Caelus realized he had many precious memories of.

“Good morning, Cae…”

Caelus almost cried, laughed, and shouted at the same time as he flung his arms around her, nearly toppling over her medical equipment as he brought her into a deep embrace.

“Morning, Lazy-fly!” Caelus exclaimed, his pure relief manifesting as loud wet laughter, “You really slept in this time!”

“Ack! C-Caelus!” Firefly squealed through her own giggles, “Cold! You’re too cold!”

Caelus was indeed cold again, but this time he didn’t mind.

As long as Firefly held onto his warmth for him, he knew everything would be alright.

Chapter Text

Caelus‘s bed had become a rather strange sight.

Three space heaters had been dragged into the storage-space turned bedroom, set up almost in a ritualistic fashion surrounding the sole bed. They pulsed radiating orange, blasting as much heat as possible toward the cocoon of pillows and blankets that had taken up residence on the sheets.

The misshapen lump suddenly wiggled, the creature within attempting a terrible effort at rotation.

“Caaaaaaaae~” moaned a uncharacteristically impatient voice, “Where’s my hot cocoa!”

“Gimme a sec, Lazy-fly.”

A single minute passed. Then the lump once again began undulating in agitation. 

“Caaaaaaaae~” the voice came again, “I’m getting cold!”

“If you keep that up, I’m upgrading you to Needy-fly.”

“Nooooooooo~”

Caelus bit back a chuckle if only to focus on weaving around pushed aside medical equipment with two steaming thermos in his hands.

Shortly after she had woken up, Silver Wolf had deemed any more infusion procedures as unnecessary expenditure and had left them with the soundly unprofessional medical advice of ‘just warm her up.’

That was all she offered before she scuttled away to the previously unused part of Caelus’ room, outside of what she had deemed the PDA AOE. Silver Wolf had largely left them alone, but every time Caelus looked over to her new corner there always seemed to be a new screen lining the wall.

They had also had conveniently ‘forgotten’ to inform anyone on the Express side that they were awake. Silver Wolf had sent a silent message to Kafka but had not received a response. 

“Here,” Caelus said, “Drink this before you become the second coming of Tayzzyronth.”

There was something that sounded suspiciously like a hiss before a hand flew out from the blanket cocoon and snatched the thermos out of his hand like lightning. Then a second hand shot out and grabbed his shirt, giving him about half a second to congratulate himself for his incredible foresight in putting the hot liquid in a closed thermos before he too was pulled toward the downy bed.

The current system Caelus had devised was a jury-rigged conduit of energy flow. The space heaters he had borrowed (read: stolen) around the Express would serve to heat as an energy source for him, then he would transfer that energy to Firefly via proximity or contact.

What resulted was the galaxy’s (Or at least the Astral Express’) first human solar array, only working because both Caelus and Firefly were effectively immune to actually feeling the sweltering temperature around them.

Was there more effective methods of doing this? Probably, but they weren’t a convenient excuse for prolonged cuddle time, were they?

Caelus was dragged face to face with his other so close that their noses might as well have been nuzzling. Firefly’s veins were still prominent, but she was far less paler than she was when she had just awoken.

“Thanks,” she said before opening her blanket cocoon just slightly, “Now can you please get under the covers?”

Caelus could have obliged, but decided to make Firefly work for it.

“WOLFIE, HELP!” He screamed abruptly, “I’M BEING EATEN!”

From across his room, said Wolfie shrugged in her gamer chair as the encroaching blanket creature began inching closer and closer.

“Your GF. Your problem.”

“I’M SERIOUS, THIS IS A MATTER OF LIFE AND DEA—“

He felt a pair of arms close the maw of blankets around him and suddenly his world went dark.

Or would have gone dark were it not Firefly’s veins casting a dim green glow around his now blanket prison.

“You’ve been eaten,” Firefly said with a playful giggle. 

“Technically, I am actually being eaten, given you are eating my energy after all,” Caelus said, summoning his Harmony hat and willing the glowing, floating accoutrement to hover a bit higher in the air so that they had a bit more space and a bit more light.

Yes, he was using Mikhail’s legacy to pitch a blanket fort. For some reason, he doubted the watchmaker would mind much. 

Gallagher probably would, though.

“Your donation is for a good cause,” said Firefly, sipping her thermos, “The girlfriend cause.”

Caelus snorted, “Y’know, at this point I should start calling you Fire-worm.” 

Said Fire-worm almost spit out her hot chocolate.

Y’know,” he continued, “Because all you’ve done for the past several hours is drink hot chocolate and sleep.”

“You wouldn’t,” she said indignantly, a desperate attempt to prevent a new atrocious nickname from entering Caelus’ vocabulary.

“A week ago, I killed god,” Caelus countered, “I would.”

“Reminder,” Firefly said, “I helped you kill that god.”

“Yeah,” he said with a teasing grin, “But still—”

Caelus cleared his throat. Firefly braced herself.

“It was said you were to destroy the bugs!” The trailblazer accused theatrically with a distinctly familiar if horribly executed accent, “Not join them!”

Maybe if they weren’t both nursing very hot thermoses that could still be spilled on the bed they were on, Firefly would have tackled him. Instead she just put on her best pouty face and silently simmered as she recuperated more energy via the heated sweet beverage method.

Her defiance lasted all of twelve seconds before Caelus offered her his free hand. She took it and squeezed, letting the bright gold energy bleed into her vibrant shade of teal as it slowly seeped into her system and further pushed away the sluggish fog that ever plagued her body.

This was fourth time they had done this since she had woken up and each time she felt a bit better. Honestly, this was the best she had felt even since before coming to Penacony.

She attributed it to the fact that the hand she held onto offered her more than one type of warmth she had been missing lately. 

“Hey,” Caelus said, breaking the comfortable silence, “You know what that means right?”

“Hmm?” Firefly said, “Know what?”

Caelus looked at her, gold eyes filled with a hesitant hope, “No more pod, right?”

Firefly’s heart skipped a beat when she realized what Caelus was saying.

She hadn’t thought about it, probably because she was still quite tired, but if Caelus could replenish her energy in this way…

Then it meant no more sleepless nights stuffed in a pod.

No more days being hooked to resuscitation fluid after every mission.

No more living life fettered to a bed or a suit of armor because her own body couldn’t do its one job right.

“Yeah,” Firefly said, confirming in a voice wound so tightly it could break, “No more pod.”

Then, after a moment, she added, “At least for now.”

It was something that neither of them talked about, something that both of them had pointedly avoided bringing up ever since she had woken up.

Caelus was a Trailblazer. Firefly was a Stellaron Hunter. After the business here in Penacony, their paths would once more diverge for who knows how long.

Caelus’ slightly pensive look mirrored her own for only a second before he grinned and raised their joined hands.

“Yeah, but… the Cae Cocoon is at your service, wherever and whenever you need it.”

Firefly snorted, squeezing the hand of her other just a bit tighter.

Until they crossed that bridge, Firefly would take treatment from the ‘Cae Cocoon’ over that damned medical equipment any day.

Elio was right, truly these were unforgettable gains indeed.

A quiet peal of laughter intruded upon her thoughts.

“Cae?”

His golden eyes crinkled with amusement as he met her gaze.

“It’s just funny.”

“Funny?”

“Yeah,” he said, “That this annoyingly loud star-cancer-Stellaron-thing I’m stuck with… is suddenly is one of the most precious things in the galaxy.”

There was only one thing that Firefly could reasonably do after hearing something like that, and it was to to make those gains just a little more unforgettable.

She leaned forward. Caelus met her halfway.

The kiss was far sweeter than the hot chocolate.

Suddenly their dark realm was breached, bright light pouring under the covers as they scrambled to break apart before the intruding force could see them.

They expected Silver Wolf as their eyes adjusted. Instead, they found Kafka adjusting her glasses from where they had nearly been blown off her head by the hot blast of air that escaped their makeshift tent/sauna/power generator.

“Hello, darlings,” Kafka greeted, voice drowning with amusement. Notably she didn’t have her tinted contacts on, looking down on the two of them with her genuine shade of unobscured magenta. 

Something tickled Caelus’ brain as he registered the taller woman looking down at them. He suddenly became very certain this was not the first time Kafka had greeted them exactly like this. Nor was it the second or even third.

“K-Kafka!” Firefly sputtered, her glowing veins quickly surrounded by a shade or red, “Can you please at least knock next time?”

Kafka eyed the discarded blanket just long enough for the absurdity of Firefly’s request to sink in.

“Is your meeting with Himeko and Mr. Yang done?” Caelus asked, “Didn’t expect you to take—“

Caelus peeked his head around Kafka to quickly glance at a nearby Clockie clock, his souvenir from the Reverie.

“—six and a half hours.”

“Well, they can certainly ask a lot of questions,” Kafka said, “Elio even had to send me a script.”

“A script?” Caelus repeated.

“Mmhmm. Of what I could and could not say,” Kafka confirmed, “Which wasn’t much, in case you were wondering.” 

Kafka tilted her head toward Caelus as she chuckled, a tinge of detached whimsy biting the edge of her voice, “I’m impressed. You’ve made quite the impression on these folks.”

Caelus grinned, “I mean, I made an impression on you, didn’t I?” 

Kafka made a sound similar to a hmph, but didn’t say anything. The very fact she was standing here spoke for itself.

Still, Caelus counted it as a victory,

“So, um, how did it go?” Firefly pressed.

“First of all, it’s good to see you too,” Kafka said to her coworker, causing Firefly to fluster slightly when she recognized her misstep, “Second, the Stellaron Hunters and the Astral Express have come to a sort of… truce.”

Kafka then smiled, “You and Silver Wolf can come and go from the Express as you please.”

Caelus was shocked silence for once. Firefly’s sunsets lit up brightly.

The wall about to separate them at least had holes in it now.

“What about you?” Caelus asked.

Kafka’s smile did not falter.

“I can’t. Miss Navigator seemed a bit… displeased with the little party trick I pulled on that Stoneheart,” the former Devil Hunter said, highly unbothered, “Bladie can’t either, probably because of his mess of a past with that database manager.”

Firefly had no idea what exactly Kafka did, but if it put the mild-mannered navigator on edge and make Caelus frown then she couldn’t help but feel a bit bad. 

For the Stoneheart, that is.

Then Kafka’s smile faltered. Just a tiny bit.

“That’s why I’m here,” she admitted, “Just to give you this. And say bye.”

Caelus found a silver case placed on the bed in front of him. The part of him he remembered knew better than to ask Kafka what it was, so he just unlatched the silver buckles keeping it shut.

What he saw caused a rush of memories to crash against the front of his mind.

Almost reverently, Caelus reached into the case and withdrew a handgun. Firefly leaned over his shoulder and her lips made a silent ‘Oh’ when she saw what he held.

“This is…” Caelus began, uncertainty lingering in his words, “This is—“

“Yours,” Kafka finished for him, “I’ve just come to return it.”

Given Kafka’s disposition to guns, Caelus had been firearm trained well before he ever swung his first sword, let alone his bat.

With a black barrel, white grip, and white trim, the energy revolver he held was rather simplistic in design. Its plasma-based payload was a departure from Kafka’s usual preference for kinetic rounds, a decision Caelus himself made given his aversion for blood.

Caelus started spinning the weapon around his finger with a slight bit of hesitance, gradually picking up speed when he realized that the muscles in his arm were indeed still familiar with the weight of the gun. Soon enough, he was performing maneuvers that would have probably made Boothill grunt with approval. 

He brought the gun to a halt, taking the sole energy cell that Kafka had packed with the weapon and sliding it into the cylinder. 

When the revolver hummed to life, Caelus smiled as it cast a familiar warm orange glow.

Even if he seldom used it as a Hunter, it was still one more piece of himself he hadn’t realized he had been missing.

“You do remember how to take care of it, yes?” Kafka teased, a rare smile playing across her glossed lips.

After a brief second, Caelus found that he did. He nodded.

“Then, with that, my work here is done,” She said, “Probably not a good idea to keep Elio waiting too lo—“

Before she could react, Caelus hopped to his feet and pulled Kafka into a hug. Firefly almost giggled aloud when the older woman suddenly froze up, her arms held out to her side in either surprise or a conscious effort not to flip Caelus over her shoulder and into the desk behind her on well-honed instinct. 

Still, her wide eyes and parted lips faded just as quick as they came, schooling back into trademark Kafka-esque amusement.

There was a different light in her eyes though. A light that remained.

“My, my, someone’s gotten quite bold,” Kafka said after a moment.

Caelus acknowledged her playful jab with a quiet laugh.

“Thanks, Kafka.”

Hesitantly, and that was saying something because Kafka was anything but hesitant, the devil hunter’s arms returned the hug. 

“Welcome back, Caelus.”

Knowing very well not to overstay his welcome, Caelus broke away as Kafka reached for something stored within her jacket.

“I’ve cleared up most things with the Express crew,” Kafka said in the middle of reapplying her contacts, “They might still have a few questions for you though, so don’t loosen your lips too much.”

Caelus realized that by spill she meant about Elio’s plan. That was fine with him, he probably couldn’t tell them even if he tried given there still wasn’t much he remembered about the specifics of Elio’s grand plan.

“Wolfie? I have some business I need to take care of and I would appreciate a head start.”

“Of course you started using that nickname,” the hacker grumbled under her breath, swiveling out of her gamer chair and trudging over like a kid called to do her chores, “Yeah, yeah, just got the mini-script from the cat. Let’s get going.”

The hacker then turned toward the bed, “I’ll be back here once I’m done speedrunning Crazy Taxi. Still got a few side quests to do here.”

Kafka herself gave one last parting look at the remaining duo before turning more specifically to Firefly.

“Enjoy yourself, but do come back sooner or later, alright?”

Firefly just gave Kafka a tight Glamothian salute before the devil hunter and hacker disappeared in a cloud of aether particles, leaving the couple once again alone.

Caelus got up to store his old weapon out of view just in case someone on the Express got the wrong idea before he could properly explain. When he returned to the bed, he found Firefly’s sunsets looking all around his room. 

“I still can’t believe this is your room,” she said, “It’s so… large. It’s like a…”

Firefly seemed to realize something, because suddenly she was looking at Caelus with narrowed eyes.

“Did you really ask to sleep in a storeroom?”

“Hey,” Caelus said, “The Express literally offered first. And Dan Heng sleeps on the fricken’ archive floor!”

“This isn’t about Dan Heng, Cae. This is about your horrible habit of sleeping in places no human being should ever belong.”

Like closets. Or wardrobes. Or, Empress Titania forbid, vents.

“Look, the storeroom was already empty,” Caelus pleaded in self-defense, “It was only the place the Express had left.”

The narrowed sunsets remained unconvinced.

“No trash?”

“No trash,” he confirmed.

Firefly huffed, “That’s a start— is that a soda machine!?”

The crew had just helped him finish building the snack bar before they arrived at Penacony, leaving only about one half of the large space empty (Or, at least it was empty before Silver Wolf turned one empty corner into a growing temporary gamer pad/RGB nightmare). The March-sponsored addition was a soda machine, though it came complete with a hot beverage function at Himeko’s behest. 

Caelus followed one of Glamoth’s finest soldiers as she made the arduous odyssey from his bed to the snack bar, making sure she didn’t trip and fall from her still somewhat sluggish movements, the borrowed slippers that were several sizes too large for her, the down trash-can-printed comforter she still refused to let go of, or a combination of all three.

They were in audience of the carbonation station soon enough and Caelus noticed that Firefly was looking between her slightly cooled chocolate beverage and the carbonator.

“Hey, Cae… I have an idea.”

Caelus’ first thought her mind still wasn’t working properly from Entropy-Loss, but then he remembered he was in little position to turn down an experiment made in the name of gastronomy ever since he ate Dan Heng’s… fabric something that he found trespassing in his fridge.

“Go for it.”

They returned to their triple-heater haven with “the Forbidden Hot-Chocolate” and a bowl of popcorn, having decided to default to their oldest preferred pastime of movie-watching with very little debate. However, just when they were about to retreat back into the cocoon, a loud series of knocks echoed on Caelus’ door.

A familiar archer girl barged in before either could say ‘come in,’ her freshly manicured finger already pointing as it zeroed in on her target. 

“Caelus!” March 7th accused as she walked in, damp hair still wrapped in a towel from what must have been a recent shower, “Did you steal my heate—“

March’s eyes darted first to Firefly, then to the blankets, popcorn, and the tablet Caelus had fetched from his drawer in that order. The respective neurons linked together to form a conclusion most logical and suddenly the space heater was the very least of her concerns.

“YOU’RE HAVING A SLEEPOVER MOVIE PARTY AND YOU DIDN’T INVITE ME!?” March 7th screeched, “SIN! BETRAYAL! UN-TRAILBLAZE-LIKE CONDUCT! I’M GETTING MY POM-POM!”

And by her Pom-Pom she meant the oversized stuffed one she kept in her room. 

Which meant she either intended to join them, beat Caelus with it for his transgression, or both. 

Before she could exit and enact her stuffed toy vengeance, she found the doorway she had plowed through suddenly blocked.

“Oh, March,” Caelus heard Himeko say, “We were just about to send Dan Heng to fetch you.”

March looked about as confused as the two on the bed did when the Astral Navigator peaked her head around the corner of Caelus’ bathroom wall. However, when Caelus saw Welt and Dan Heng also hovering close behind, he knew the start of movie night was on hold. Even Pom-Pom was with them.

“Caelus, we hope we aren’t interrupting anything,” Himeko said, carefully respectful as usual.

“Nope,” Caelus answered, “March was just about to beat me to death with Pom-Pom.”

The real Pom-Pom suddenly directed a very unimpressed and slightly concerned look at the Astral Express’ archer, meaning Caelus’ choice of words had their intended effect.

“You were about to what!?”

“He meant my stuffed one!” March yelled.

While Pom-Pom launched into an on-the-spot lecture on taking good care of plush toys made in his likeness, Himeko smiled warmly at the bed’s other occupant.

“Miss Firefly, it’s good to see you’re awake and well.”

Firefly’s first instinct was to dive under the covers from the sudden attention, but she schooled her gut reaction when she realized that the navigator was also sporting PJs. Actually, everyone present was in nightclothes and she figured there was no need to be self-conscious when Mr. Yang himself was wearing slippers fashioned after what looked like the head of some red anime mecha.

“T-Thank you, Miss Himeko.”

“How’d you know Fly was awake?” asked Caelus.

“Kafka,” Welt readily supplied.

Caelus remembered SIlver Wolf’s message. Fair enough.

“The rest of the crew and I were hoping you had a little bit of time to chat before it gets too late?” Himeko continued before turning to Firefly, “Only if you aren’t too tired, that is.”

Gold met sunsets and found them nodding.

Guess it was better to get this over with now.

“Yeah,” Caelus conceded, “Let’s chat.”

The entire crew filed in around (but certainly not in) the perimeter of their makeshift blast furnace. Himeko rolled Caelus’ office chair out from behind his desk while March took the couch. Dan Heng, Welt, and Pom-Pom elected to stand.

Despite what she said earlier, both Caelus and Firefly knew they were in for the long ride when Himeko revealed she had indeed brought a cup of decaf coffee with her.

Oh well. An interrogation pajama party was certainly something to put on their shared list of unique experiences.  

“Alright Caelus,” Pom-Pom began, “What’s this I’ve heard about you being a Stellaron Hunter?”

And so Caelus and Firefly spent the next fifteen minutes explaining everything they were allowed to about their past, from Caelus’ role as a receptacle to Firefly’s origins as a survivor of Glamoth. 

“So that is genuine armor from the Iron Cavalry,” Welt commented, “Type-IV? Strategic Assault Mech? Please correct me if I’m wrong.”

Firefly blinked in surprised, “You’re quite familiar with the armor of my comrades.”

Welt’s pushed his glasses up, the lenses seemingly shining with his bleeding interest, “I’m something of a… mech enthusiast myself.”

Firefly’s sunsets began mirroring the light reflected in the elder trailblazer’s glasses and that was Caelus’ cue to start making discrete ‘abort abort’ hand motions toward Himeko.

“Ahem,” Himeko intervened, “Welt, you can ask for a mechanical demonstration later.”

“Ah. Right. Sorry,” Welt conceded, sharing a brief nod with the mech pilot that confirmed he would indeed be getting that demonstration later.

From there the topic wandered, mostly based on questions that the Express had that were easy enough to answer. The couple also talked at some length about their experiences as Hunters, even if they left out everything about Elio’s plan aside from the fact that it existed in the first place. Given that neither Himeko nor Welt said anything. It seemed they had been expecting as much. 

Still, they eventually ended up on the topic of how he wound up on Herta Space Station and Caelus found he had a question of his own he wanted to field.

“So how did you guys actually figure out I was connected to the Stellaron Hunters?”

“Yeah,” March said a bit pointedly, “How did you guys figure it out? Y’know. Since apparently everyone forgot to tell me?”

Three Express crew members began looking a bit sheepish.

“First of all, it wasn’t too pressing since Caelus’ intentions here were anything but malign,” Welt explained, “Second of all, with all the happenings between the Xianzhou and Belobog… I believe the most upfront explanation I can give you is that we, well, forgot.”

“Again, we’re sorry about that, March,” Himeko said, “Truly.”

“Communication between trailblazers should be crystal clear!” Pom-Pom huffed, “Do better next time!”

As the other trailblazers continued the arduous task of placating a put-out March 7th, Firefly leaned in closer to Caelus.

“They’re a lot more… chaotic then I expected.”

Caelus snorted, “I found them like this, I swear.”

Eventually, Dan Heng cleared his throat to prompt everyone to silence.

“The first hint was when I went to ask Madam Herta if it was alright to take the baseball bat that we found next to you when you first awakened,” Dan Heng began, “She then told me she had, quote, ‘never seen this piece of junk before in her life.’”

“Dan Heng then informed me of this,” Himeko said, “But it wasn’t out of the question that Herta had simply forgotten so we didn’t really pursue it.”

“Well,” Caelus said, “You obviously decided to at some point.”

“Yes,” Himeko confirmed, “When Welt watched you rendezvous with Kafka and Blade on the Xianzhou Luofu.”

Caelus turned to the spectacled man in surprise, “You were watching?”

Welt nodded, “I was keeping them surveilled ever since they escaped the Divination Commission.” 

Then he chuckled, “We may give you youngsters a fair bit of free reign, but us old folk still have bases to cover. I knew where those two were at all times, and the fact you sought them out on your own accord ruled out Kafka’s spirit whisper.”

Caelus bit back a scowl. Less because he was being watched and more because he hadn’t noticed he was being watched. 

Professionals have standards, as Kafka used to beat into him every waking moment of the day. Contrary to what most might believe, her method did in fact work.

“And so we had Dan Heng do a little of sleuthing,” continued Himeko, passing the verbal torch back to the archivist.

“I decided to revisit the first variable: your bat,” Dan Heng explained, “Took a brief scan of it when you weren’t looking.”

Caelus made a high pitched, obviously faked scandalized gasp that got Firefly laughing.

“My dear friend Dan Heng, how could you do that to my precious, prized, and —at the time— only possession.”

Dan Heng, as per usual, ignored his antics with slight eye roll, “Turns out that bat is biometrically keyed to you and you alone, meaning that it wasn’t a random occurrence that we found it with you. It also showed signs of heavy use from someone who obviously knew how to wield it.”

Firefly was about to interject with some statement about circumstantiality, but the Astral Navigator was faster.

“This was still, at the end of the day, circumstantial,” Himeko said, “So I put out some feelers in the greater Nameless community about Stellaron Hunters and what I got back was interesting.”

Himeko leaned in, a knowing smile forming behind her ever present cup of coffee.

“There were indeed repeat sightings of a certain individual appearing on outer fringe worlds affected by Stellaron contamination. Male, medium build, rarely seen wielding a gun, much more often wielding a bat.”

There was a finality in the way she said the word ‘bat’ that would make even Elio proud. 

“They got you good,” Firefly whispered at is side. 

Caelus was inclined to agree; here he was doing chores for Pom-Pom while the Express was out dismantling an alibi he didn’t even know he had.

“If I never recovered my memories… were you ever going to tell me?”

March 7th stirred almost uncomfortably in her seat. It made sense, given her own past was still a blank mystery.

“We hadn’t decided yet,” Himeko said truthfully, “But then Ms. Firefly came along and decided for us.”

And here they were. Certainly for the better, at least to Caelus.

“So… uh,” March started awkwardly, “Have you actually… you know… done it?”

Everyone, including Pom-Pom turned to March like she had grown a second head.

“Huh?” said Caelus, “Done… what?’

“You know… it?”

Caelus blinked dumbly. Firefly suddenly felt as bit hot and it had nothing to do with the heaters.

Then Caelus turned to Welt.

“Mr. Yang, March is being a perv—“

March suddenly sprang to her feet.

“NO!” the archer shouted at the top of her lungs, “I MEANT HAVE YOU ACTUALLY KILLED PEOPLE, YOU DUMBBUTT!”

Silence reigned as the awkwardness was suddenly sucked out of the air and replaced with something far, far heavier.

It was a dour question obviously meant for Caelus more then Firefly, given the amount of zeroes attached to her bounty more or less spoke for itself. Still, Dan Heng’s resultant, almost visceral protest exited his mouth as a near draconian hiss.

“March!”

Caelus fidgeted slightly with his fingers, “It’s… it’s fine. It’s a valid question.”

He then turned to March’s troubled gaze head on.

“Yes. I have.”

Before anyone else could speak, Firefly cut in.

“Both myself and Cae make a point to only take the lives of people who for the most part deserve it,” Firefly said, “Neither of us take pleasure in it, but Cae usually has many more reservations about that course of action than even I do.”

There were some exceptions, but she didn’t mention them because she was certain Express would certainly agree with those exceptions.

“Then why is your bounty so high?” March continued.

Firefly grinned, “Because I tend to break the IPCs most expensive toys.”

A chuckle traveled around the room. Once it settled, Firefly’s grin melted into something far warmer.

“I really, really meant it when I said the Express suited him better than the Hunters did,” Firefly said, squeezing Caelus’ hand as she did so, “I don’t remember him ever being… this happy.”

Caelus found that all other words suddenly failed him in the face of her beaming sunsets, so the only thing he offered to her explanation was a simple, “Yeah.”

An earnest silence followed before Himeko broke it with a polite cough.

“As much as I would like to believe otherwise, I recognize that not every conflict can be solved with words alone,” she said, “While we strive to look for the better solution as trailblazers, it should not blind us to harsher inevitabilities. The recent situation in Penacony, even if it didn’t end in such an outcome, is a good example.”

Everyone had enough of an understanding of Dan Heng’s past to understand where he probably felt on the matter. Welt’s eyes seemed to darken behind his glasses, but only for a brief moment.

Himeko turned to March, who still looked a bit pensive, “You don’t have to agree, but is their answer good enough for you, March?”

March’s expression remained tense for only a few more seconds under Himeko’s direct gaze, melting into a resigned look that usually found it’s way onto her face whenever Caelus did something extraordinarily stupid.

“Ok,” she said, briefly meeting Caelus’ gold with her prismatic eyes, “But only if it’s for really bad bad guys.”

Caelus just nodded, “For the record… I don’t think I’ve taken a life in a long time. Both because the Hunters wanted me to keep a low profile and because Fly’s typically quicker on the draw.”

Both reasons were true. The last life he could vividly remember coming to an end by his bat was that outer world mob boss that thought he could get the jump on both himself and his partner — the very same encounter that had lead to Firefly helping him work on managing his emotions and, eventually, their relationship.

He didn’t count the revolution at Golcondar even if he technically had a hand in that indirectly. Those folks definitely fell under the purview of ‘really bad bad guys.’

“Wait,” March said, “Pom-Pom, don’t you have anything to say to this?”

The short conducts diminutive shoulders just shrugged.

“Believe it or not, Mr. Sunday isn’t the first person I’ve run over with the Express,” the conductor said with an almost concerning amount of shamelessness, “Actually, that was a favorite maneuver of one Himeko’s predecessors, Musketeer Oakley.”

March blinked. Then she just sighed in defeat.

“Yeah. Nope. You win. I’ve got nothing.”

Personally, Caelus doubted it’d be the last they’d talk of this, but it was a start.

“I think that’s enough questioning for one night,” Himeko said, “Caelus, I’d like to talk to you in the morning before the negotiations tomorrow. You’ll be representing both the Express officially and the Hunters unofficially.”

“Negotiations. Tomorrow morning. Check,” Caelus repeated. 

“Kafka mentioned something about a truce?” Firefly asked.

“Yes, because the paths of Finality and Trailblaze are currently and unarguably intertwined,” Himeko clarified, “It’s under the table, however. To the public and the IPC, we are still are very much at odds.”

“Understandable,” said Firefly.

Himeko rose from her seat, “Alright everyone, this meeting is over.”

“Finally,” March groaned, “It’s been like two hours.”

“It was important,” Dan Heng said, “Now we’re all on the same page.”

“Does this mean I’m not getting fired?” Caelus hopefully proposed.

He had kinda meant it as a joke, but Himeko’s easy expression sobered several degrees.

“Caelus,” she said gently, “Your status as a trailblazer was never in any question. Simply being a Nameless signifies leaving the past behind to blaze a trail into the future.”

“We just had to know what that past was for logistical reasons,” Welt added, “You know, just so Pom-Pom knows who to start pointing the train at next time.”

“Hey,” The conductor protested, “Just because I can doesn’t meant I should. Besides, it scuffs the paint!”

Caelus was speechless. For a good reason.

“I… yeah, OK” Caelus said, far more subdued than he was just mere seconds ago.

Then his usually stony expression cracked, revealing a wide smile.

A smile that was only matched in brightness by the girl sitting next to him.

“And you were so worried,” Firefly chimed, “It’s not like you to be a doubter.”

Caelus’ face reset with puzzlement. He had been worried?

Before he could ask her to clarify, March spoke up.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you did, mister,” March shouted “I’m grounding you until I get the movie night you owe me!”

Well, if March could still break his eardrums like that, Caelus guessed everything was still pretty alright between them. 

Finally remembering, Caelus took a quick drink of his hot chocolate and frowned.

“Aw man… the hot chocolate went flat.”

The usual unflappable Dan Heng blinked in confusion, “Hot chocolate? Flat?”

“It was Fly’s idea,” Caelus said, not even hesitating to throw his other under a Belobog double-decker bus in response to the crew’s (particularly Himeko’s) concerned but judgemental looks.

Why did they look more disappointed about his beverage than the actual killing people thing?

A giggle escaped Firefly’s lips as she chose not come to his defense, so naturally not a single Express member believed him.

Truly nothing had changed.

Himeko, Welt, and Pom-Pom bid goodnight as they quietly excused themselves into his room. 

March similarly conscripted Dan Heng to join in her impromptu prison sentence of movie night, so the resident multitasker left to get some actual work material to quietly do. The archer herself went to fetch her oversized Pom-Pom, but not before Firefly made her promise there would be no stuffed animal abuse this night.

This left two Stellaron Hunters to savor what little alone time they would have left tonight. 

“Was I that worried?” Caelus asked as he paced around and turned off the heaters so the area would be somewhat livable for the others.

“Uh-huh. You’ve been a bit more… tense than usual.” 

Caelus chalked that up more to the past twelve or so hours in general, but who was he to correct his girlfriend on a technicality?

Firefly said, “Anyway, why did you think I wanted so much hot chocolate?”

“Uh. Because you wanted hot chocolate?” he said dryly.

Firefly shook her head, “I mean, yeah, I did, but it kept you busy.”

And distracted, Caelus realized.

Caelus climbed back onto the bed, wordlessly embracing the cocoon of blankets that was his girlfriend from behind. 

He sighed as he rested his chin on her shoulder, “And here I was supposed to be taking care of you.”

Caelus felt her laugh as she craned her head to plant her lips on his cheek. 

“You silly, silly raccoon,” she said, sunset eyes a sparkling glow, “You do more than enough of that already.”

Caelus leaned in just a bit closer. So did Firefly, just enough so that their lips met.

A minute later, the sight March 7th walked in on made her want to scream a second time that night.

”Really you two? In front of my Pom-Pom?!”

Unlike their last interruption, both of them broke apart with laughter, neither of them caring in the slightest.

Chapter Text

When Caelus was invited to take part of the IPC-Penacony-Nameless negotiations, he thought the place where such an historic event would be hosted would be at least a little grander than the backstreets of Dreamflux Reef.

He fully expected a luxury space ship, the Penacony Grand Theater, or even just a secure VIP barroom in the Reverie Hotel proper.

What he did not expect was to be following Himeko down eternally dim streets, approaching an old orange neon sign that struggled to display the word ‘Boozehound’ without flickering.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Caelus asked. Though his hands were currently empty, all four of his weapons were a mere pull of digital space away.

“This is the meeting point Mr. Gallagher gave me, “Himeko confirmed quietly as they approached the door, “Do you remember what we talked about?

Given they had spent two hours this morning talking about it, Caelus didn’t think he could if he wanted to.

“Yes ma’am.”

Himeko’s hand paused its journey to the doorknob, “Ma’am? That’s certainly new.”

Caelus realized his little misstep and chuckled, “Sorry. New… old… new-old habit?”

“Ah,” Himeko said, coming to a quick understanding, “Did Kafka run a tight-ship?”

“With me? Yeah,” said Caelus, “Or at least she tried.”

Himeko chuckled under her breath. Then she turned the brass doorknob and entered the bar accompanied by the jingling chime of a welcome bell.

Caelus took one last look around the perimeter, put his business face on, then stepped inside.

Unlike the somewhat dreary streets outside, it was a cozy establishment with old wooden furnishing. Old filament lightbulb lamps of differing make cast a warm glow over the space, lining every wall side by side with Clockie antiques and other old faded paintings and photographs. A few two-top tables lined the wall opposite of the bar, giving just enough space for patrons to squeeze past into what looked to be a more open dining area toward the rear of the building. 

“Welcome, welcome, make yourself at home,” Gallagher greeted them from behind the bar and in front of large wooden shelves that probably held more alcohol than he’d ever seen before, “Sorry, place is a bit of a wreck. We just opened for the first time in about a decade last week.” 

“A decade, you say?” Echoed Himeko.

Gallagher ran a hand over the ornately carved wooden countertop with a fondness softening his rough features. It was polished to a sparkling sheen that very much placed it at odds with the dusty corners and worn marked up floors surrounding it.

“Much better gig from a much simpler time,” Gallagher said, “Didn’t expect Micah to keep the old girl when I left for the Bloodhounds, but you certainly won’t catch me barking at a gift horse.”

He then let a guffawing round of laughter fill the room.

“Still have regulars believe it or not,” said Gallagher, “I told them they were idiots for waiting, and they told me I was an idiot for closing.”

“A bit different from the Dreamjolt,” Caelus observed as they took a seat at two of the many barstools.

“That’s because that’s Siobhan’s place first, mine second,” Gallagher said, “Never was one for flashing lights and all that. Gives me a damn migraine.”

Himeko chuckled, “Does that make you the titular Boozehound, then?”

“Yes indeed,” Gallagher said, “What can I get ya before things get serious?”

Caelus noticed there was already a drink made; it looked like a martini if his rudimentary knowledge of alcohol proved correct.

Himeko hummed thoughtfully, “Can you do an espresso martini? Not too strong, though. Have to remain sharp, after all.”

“Sure thing,” said the bartender before turning to Caelus, “You?”

“Old fashioned, your preference.”

Gallagher flashed a grin, “Coming right up.”

As the grizzled bloodhound stepped back into his element, the doorbell chimed once again. The two trailblazers turned to see a familiar face dressed in an unfamiliar trench coat.

“Miss Himeko, Mr. Caelus,” Robin greeted olitely, removing the rest of her disguise as she joined them at the bar, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Likewise,” Himeko said, “This is an important step for Penacony’s future, after all.”

Caelus gave the idol a polite little wave but otherwise didn’t say anything. She waved back with a smile.

He’d already tried to kill her brother twice, no need to make things any more awkward than they had to be. 

“Ma’am,” Gallagher called from the bar, placing the drink he had already prepared on the counter in front of her, “Your usual.”

Robin smiled, “Thank you as always.”

Caelus observed this definitely wasn’t the first time Robin had been here. Good to know.

Robin and Himeko exchanged pleasantries while Caelus watched Gallagher shake Himeko’s martini at a breakneck pace.

“I’ve been thinking,” Caelus spoke up, “How did you show up in the real world? I didn’t think you could do that given… y’know.”

“I’m a virtual character, not a memory zone meme,” Gallagher said, his hands not slowing their pace as he strained and garnished the drink, “But I wouldn’t put it past your Stellaron to have done something out of pocket… and if it did, I ain’t lookin’ to find out.”

“Any idea?”

Gallagher shrugged as he plucked an orange out of a mini fridge, “Like I said, ain’t lookin’ to find out. Ask Mythus, if you want.”

Caelus snickered to himself. Maybe he would the next time he was in the Simulated Universe.

His thoughts wandered elsewhere as he let Gallagher finish working. He kinda wished Firefly was here, but everyone had realized that bringing an IPC-branded criminal to an IPC negotiation was a bit of a bad idea.

Soon enough, a simple bronze-orange colored drink was being pushed in front of him.

“One old-fashioned, served sweet dream style ” Gallagher announced.

“Sweet dream?” Caelus repeated.

“Mixed with a little dash of dream syrup,” the bartender clarified.

Caelus did indeed spy an open jar of the incredibly sweet mixture on the counter, “Do you put that in everything around here?”

“Hey, hey,” Gallagher said, giving him a look, “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but you’re still in Penacony.”

Then he leaned closer across the counter and whispered, “Besides, you’re lookin a bit nervous.” 

Well, Caelus couldn’t really argue with either of those points, so he picked up the glass and took a sip. He honestly shouldn’t have been surprised with how well-balanced the soothing sweetness and the depth of the caramel-colored alcohol was.

“It’s… it’s great.”

“Course it is,” Gallagher said, moving to serve Himeko’s drink with a grunt, “I’ve been doing this my entire life.”

Caelus snorted, knowing the virtual character probably meant it in the most literal sense possible.

There wasn’t much to talk about until the IPC arrived so things became rather quiet after that. Himeko and Robin continued their casual conversation while Gallagher retreated farther behind the bar to clean a line of glasses with an old dishrag.

With nothing better to do, Caelus opened his message app.

C: In negotiation limbo

C: Bored

C: Crying

C: Dying

C: Throwing up

C: What are you doing?

A few seconds later, he got a response.

FF: Sorry

FF: Hang in there. It’s for Penacony!!

FF: Mr. Yang bought a board game from the hotel gift shop called Dreamopoly. We’re playing it now.

An image appeared a second later depicting an intensely aggrieved March lamenting that her ill-fated Clockie piece had just landed on what appeared to be a board space occupied by a hotel.

Caelus chuckled.

C: Are YOU winning at least?

FF: Nope

FF: Mr. Yang and Wolfie are teaming 

FF: But every time March complains, they both say it’s an ‘adequate representation of corporate capitalism’

FF: Then they high five >:(

Caelus didn’t quite know if it was reassuring or somewhat concerning that the oldest member of the crew and the younger Punklorde hacker were getting along so well.

C: Where’s Dan Heng? He’ll help you guys

FF: He’s already helping us 

FF: And we’re still getting dumpstered T_T

Well, Caelus was officially out of ideas. They were well and truly beat.

C:  Wasn’t Wolfie supposed to be streaming this talk?

FF: She is. 

C: How? 

C: If she’s playing board games with you she’s not in the dream

Another user joined their supposedly private chat and Caelus knew full well who it was before they said a single word.

SW: I bugged ur phone. Duh.

The user then disconnected. Caelus sighed.

FF: That.

FF: Anyway, what did you and Himeko talk about?

FF: You were in her room all morning…

C: Stuff

FF: What stuff

C: Stuff stuff

FF: :(

C: Negotiation stuff

C: She said to keep it on the down low

C: You’ll see soon

FF: >:(

Before he could send another text, the doorbell rang a third time that evening and brought the calming prelude to a sudden but expected end.

Caelus barely had enough time to send off one final ‘gtg’ and place his now-bugged phone on the countertop when not one, not two, but four people entered the bar. Caelus easily recognized Aventurine and Jade. The other two seemed like run of the mill IPC grunts, thought there was one whose uniform sported a noticeable gold trim.

More notably, both were armed with rifles.

Gallagher muttered something audible but unintelligible, pausing his cleaning as he glared at the gambler among them. 

“I said two, not four. I thought you IPC folks were good with terms.”

Aventurine shrugged with his hands, “Trust me, I tried. Take it up with her, says his directive came straight form the board.”

The guard with the gold trim stepped forward unbeckoned by either Stoneheart with a tight step.

“Are you the Penacony representative known as Gallagher?”

Caelus thought he talked a lot like the IPC representative Skott, and for that reason alone he found him annoying.

The bartender set down the glass he was working on with a precise yet inpatient clink.

“Depends who’s asking.”

“Well, I’ll have you know that it’s standard protocol to have a security detail present at any official IPC negotiation,” the guard proclaimed, “We are either present, or there will be no negotiations at all.”

Gallagher regarded him with an unimpressed gaze for two seconds. Then he looked past him at his supposed superiors.

“Do you wanna have this negotiation or not?” 

Jade’s large hat rose slightly to acknowledge his question, then she waved a dismissive hand at the security captain, “Do what you have to do.”

The guard bristled at being essentially ignored, “Excuse me, I am addressing you—“

Gallagher clapped twice and the loud guard vanished, his words already a distant echo as he was abruptly swallowed by the floor.

A chill ran shot up Caelus’s spine as he saw the oh-so familiar purple eye that still haunted his dreams staring out of the black void the man had been standing on. Suddenly, he became hyperaware of how many crisscrossing shadows the old lightbulbs were casting against the floor and realized they were essentially standing on a remote-detonated, undoubtedly intentionally crafted minefield. Himeko looked unfazed, but Robin’s lips pursed in slight shock.

As the eye faded back into oblivion, Caelus understood why they were meeting here instead of luxury space ship, the Penacony Grand Theater, or even just a VIP barroom in the Reverie. He understood they were meeting here because Penacony’s most effective behavior check was swimming circles underneath the floorboard shadows like a circling, void-eyed shark.

And its owner was standing right behind the bar.

“Ah,” Jade said, her voice light and detached as she looked at the now empty space, “And where did he go, Mr. Gallagher?”

“Probably falling through the dream between here and the Golden Hour. Sleepie will drag him back once we’re done,” Gallagher told her, “Consider it an attitude adjustment, free of charge.”

The Stonehearts both wordlessly turned to stare at the remaining guard, whose hand was already on the doorknob.

“I’ll… I’ll just wait outside.”

He then opened the door, stepped back into the street, then shut the door behind him.

“Alright,” Gallagher muttered, motioning the two Stonehearts over to the bar, “We’re opening in an hour, so let’s get this over with.”

Gallagher plucked something between two bottles on the shelves and tossed it on the counter. It was a thick folder full of documents that both Himeko and Caelus were already familiar with given the former had helped vet it the night prior.

“I’m sure everyone here knows each other, but for the sake of pleasantries Ms. Robin and I are representing the Five Families and Penacony as a whole. Ms. Himeko and Mr. Caelus are representing the Express,” Gallagher said, “That laundry list from hell is the revised services and expenditures that Penacony is formally asking from the IPC. Take a look before we start talking numbers.”

“Ms. Robin,” Jade observed more than greeted, “I didn’t expect to be seeing you again so soon.”

The measured look on Robin’s face as she nodded politely was slightly unreadable, but suggested that the idol herself knew otherwise.

Jade turned her attention down the bar, searching for someone that wasn’t there, “And where is Mr. Alfalfa? I was under the impression he would be here for such talks.”

“Old Oti is busy preparing the Radiant Feldspar for tomorrow’s festivities,” Robin clarified, “Rest assured, Mr. Gallagher and myself speak with the full backing of the Five Families of Penacony.” 

Jade nodded slowly at her explanation, offered a far more clipped nod of acknowledgment toward the Express representatives, then picked up the folder and began silently leafing through it.

“Once again, thank you for your earlier assistance, Mr. Aventurine,” Himeko greeted the other Stoneheart as Jade read through the documents, “But to be quite honest, we were expecting Ms. Topaz.”

Aventurine shook his head, “Topaz declined to attend today due to… well, let’s just say health concerns.”

The way his magenta eyes lingered just slightly on Caelus was a bit more telling than his words.

“I see,” Himeko said, “Do send her my regards. That experience yesterday must have been far from pleasant.”

Aventurine tsked, a slight chip in his usual easygoing demeanor, “That’s a bit of an understatement given she had her own gun shoved in her mouth, but sure thing.”

He then returned to form with a grin, “I’m not here to do much talking, so no need to worry too much about me. I make bets, not deals.”

“No more cards to play?” Caelus asked.

“It’s a bad idea to make bets when there’s nothing to be gained,” Aventurine said. Then he motioned to the mostly empty drink sitting in front of Caelus, “Unless of course, there’s a bet to made for one of those.”

A glimmering coin shot up into the air and back into Aventurine’s waiting palm.

“Heads or tails, anyone?” said the Stoneheart, “Loser buys the drink.”

“I’ll have to decline for now,” Himeko said, gesturing to her barely touched martini, “I’m still working on mine.”

“Same here,” Robin said as well, though her martini glass was far emptier.

Usually Caelus would have had the wherewithal to not participate in rigged games, but there was no indication when Jade would be done reading so he humored the likely equally as bored negotiator.

“Tails.”

Aventurine’s thumb sent the sliver of metal spinning through the air as soon as the syllable left Caelus’ mouth. It landed in his gloved palm before he slapped it down on his palm.

“Well, would you look at that,” Aventurine observed, just a mote of slyness in his voice as he showed the trailblazer the coin tail side up, “Mr. Gallagher!”

“You know full well you can just ask,” Gallagher muttered as he approached their end of the counter, tossing the now well-used dish rag into the sink, “I’m not chargin’ tonight.”

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” Aventurine replied lightly, placing a credit chit on the counter regardless, “One of what he’s having.”

“And another for me,” Caelus added.

Caelus didn’t really make an attempt to decipher any hidden meaning in the gesture and just took the free drink without much fuss.

The drinks were delivered. Several more minutes passed without event.

Then the folder closed and slid its way back across the table.

“I must say, Mr. Gallagher, this is quite a revision,” Jade observed neutrally, “If I had to make an estimate, almost 40% less than what Mr. Alfalfa was originally asking for.”

Gallagher grumbled, “So he did send you something… I guess that whole going public thing really was a bluff.”

A mote of surprise briefly flickered across Jade’s face, “Public?”

If the bartender cared about the omission, it didn’t show, “Oti kept mouthing off that he wanted to take Penacony public. I told him he had a bit too much to drink.”

“Well, I’m glad you and I both know that isn’t an option.”

Gallagher scoffed, “Don’t get me wrong, Ms. Big Hat, it’s still an option. A nuclear one, but certainly an option.”

“Then let’s start talking, shall we?” Jade offered, “The analysts were thinking something about a 30% share in equity. At least for the previous offer.”

Gallagher crossed his arms.

“10% to the Express, 15% for the IPC, Penacony will begin the process of adopting the IPC Credit.”

Caelus knew woefully little about economics, but even he knew that 15% for a deal like this was low. 

And, judging from the fact that she looked like someone just killed her pet snake, Jade knew it too. Aventurine was far less visibly bothered, but his expression went notably flat.

“Excuse me?” Jade said.

Gallagher didn’t budge, not in physical posture nor in figurative stance.

“10% Express, 15% IPC, Penacony adopts the IPC Credit.”

“There must be some kind of mistake, Mr. Gallagher,” Jade said, that same slithering hiss Caelus had heard yesterday worming its way in the back of her voice, “Do you take us for fools?”

“No, I think you people are very smart,” Gallagher said, “You said it yourself we’re now asking for about half less.”

“Shouldn’t that be 18% then? Where’d the other 3% go?” Aventurine pointed out.

“Gone,” Gallagher said dryly, “Because I’m not giving you any more of a foothold than I can get away with.”

“Speaking plainly now, I see,” Jade leered underneath the thinnest layer of her ever-neutral voice, “Any chance at all of adjusting the numbers?”

“If you asked me before yesterday, the answer would have been maybe,” Gallagher said, once again the very picture of unbothered, “As it stands right now, you’re lucky I’m still offering to adopt your entire credit system.”

“And the Express?” Jade continued, glancing down to the Trailblazer side of the bar, “10%? That’s quite a sizable cut for a party not contributing anything to Penacony’s infrastructure in the future.”

“I do have to agree somewhat with Ms. Jade’s concerns,” Himeko chimed in, her first words in the negotiation, “A 10% share for the Express seems… unreasonably large.”

Gallagher snorted, “I don’t remember seeing the IPC logo on the train that ran over the Order’s Pseudo-Emanator, big hat.”

The where was only one snicker heard across the room and it belonged to Caelus. Then another voice gently cleared her throat.

“In all seriousness,” Robin said, “That portion of shares is to honor both the efforts of the Astral Express today as well as the past sacrifices of all the Trailblazers that made the dreams of Penacony possible in the first place. It is a contribution that has been sorely overlooked by The Family for far too long.”

Himeko nodded in understanding.

“Then, for the sake of those that came before us, we will accept such a gift,” Himeko said,  “Though, please remember that the Nameless do not typically seek rewards for their deeds.”

A terse silence reigned over the bar, broken only by Aventurine’s empty glass returning to the counter. It was obvious the IPC side was reassessing.

“This isn’t what Oti offered, “Jade pressed after a few more seconds.

“Do I look like Oti Alfafa to you?” Gallagher huffed, “I sure hope not. I’m not that old.”

“Let me rephrase that,” Jade said, making it very clear she wasn’t doing it as a favor of kindness, “You know the Family won’t stand for this.”

Gallagher’s huff evolved into a full-blown scoff.

“The Family? You mean the same Family that is currently prayin’ to doll-face or three-face or whatever happens to be up there that the file cabinet in my office doesn’t magically tip over and start them second revolution?” Gallagher countered, thoroughly unimpressed, “I’ll bet the scandal will be so big they’ll name a SoulGlad flavor after it.”

Jade’s eyes appraised not the bartender but The Family’s star idol sitting next to her from under her hat for a solid three seconds.

“You’re letting him blackmail the Family?”

“He’s not bluffing, Ms. Jade,” Robin said, “I have seen that file cabinet. There is nothing the Family, much less I, can do in the face of such a publicity threat.”

“And believe me, they’ve tried,” Gallagher confirmed, “Their last attempt is floating somewhere between here and the Blue Hour, depending on how generous Sleepie felt.”

Something seemed to coil behind Jade’s presence. The shadows beneath them stirred in response.

Caelus recognized a threat given and received in turn, all without a single word. 

Then the bartender planted his hands against the bar and leaned across, nearly ducking beneath the wide brim of the Stoneheart’s large hat as he met viper-like eyes with his wolfish brown-red.

“I don’t think we’re on the same page, so let me help you out by putting this as clearly as I can possibly make it,” Gallagher muttered through a growl, “I’m not fighting for the Family as some Bloodhound lieutenant here, I’m fighting for Penacony as the Watchmaker’s right-hand deputy — I’m fighting for the Penacony that people fought for, bled for, and died for all in the name of keeping it out of your hands specifically.”

Jade said nothing, but held the man’s gaze even as he leaned back.

“The reason why that list is shorter than you remember is because that is what Penacony needs, not what the Family wants,” Gallagher said, pointing to the document in question, “The only two reasons I’m giving you an offer at all is because even a studdorn old dog like me recognizes we can both gain from this and because your gambling man put his life on the line shutting down the Order.”

Aventurine gave a polite wave dripping with smug vindication that Jade pointedly ignored.

“And if we don’t take your offer?”

Gallagher opened a can of SoulGlad as he shrugged, “Then I guess Penacony will try its hand at going public after all.”

For the first time throughout the entire negotiation, Jade smiled from underneath her large hat.

“That is where I believe you are mistaken, Mr. Gallagher.”

It was Gallagher’s turn to remain silent, but that was more because he was busy drinking his soda than anything.

“It seems you’re not one for posturing, so let me simply cut to the chase,” Jade continued, “I heard from a little birdie that the Family’s protection of the Dream has vanished: people can die in this sweet dream and we have the means to ensure everyone across the known galaxy knows.”

Again, Gallagher didn’t say anything.

“There is no way you can sidestep us; the sheer number of media outlets the IPC controls will make it trivial to ensure that any sort of attempt for Penacony to go public will fail before it even begins,” Jade pointed out almost as a matter of fact.

Then her already thin smile turned far colder, “So, Mr. Gallagher, it might be in Penacony’s best interest for you to start rethinking that offer.”

Caelus noticed Jade’s gaze slightly veer toward Robin, almost as if she was expecting something from the idol. Nothing of note came.

A now empty can of soda left Gallagher’s mouth. He nodded slowly as he looked downwards to make sure he didn’t miss when he tossed the can into the trash.

Then he leveled his gaze with the Stoneheart and smirked.

“If you sink Penacony from going public, rest assured it would be no skin off my hide,” declared Gallagher, “Once all the rubble settles, I think I’d rebuild this place the way Mikky always intended it to be: a home.”

Robin smiled slightly. Jade’s brow furrowed ever so slightly.

Gallagher then leaned his weight against the back bar as he took out his lighter. 

“Of course, there will be all sorts of folk who come to me demanding to know where the golden dreams of Penacony went, and you can be certain I’ll be happy to point them in your direction.”

“You would throw this all away?” Jade countered, “Everything for some childish notion of sentimentality?”

“You bet,” Gallagher said. “Oh, and, one other little thing.”

Gallagher flicked his lighter, the small flame illuminating a grizzled face wrinkled even further as it clearly tried to hold in laughter.

“Who do you think it was that told that little birdie of yours to go tweetin’ in the first place?”

Caelus noticed Himeko take a much bigger sip of espresso martini, a sign that meant she knew she was no longer needed. He then looked to the other end of the table and saw the sight of a noticeably slack-jawed Stoneheart of Credit being hit by an enough realization to get Nous’ undivided attention.

Jade’s widened eyes snapped toward Robin, who was simply swirling what was left of her own drink. Even Aventurine, who had been somewhat disinterested up until this point, keyed in toward the idol singer.

“When I told you I wanted the best future for Penacony, I never said anything about the IPC being part of that future.”

And with that, the ‘bitter poison’ the IPC had banked so much on was revealed to be just as poisonous for them as it had been for the Family.

Jade leaned back in her barstool, a bitter sigh exiting her lips when she realized that she had entered this negotiation alone from the start.

“You exchanged me that information on purpose, knowing it would goad us into doing something you could take advantage of while securing Mr. Sunday’s freedom as collateral,” Jade mulled aloud, “I must admit that I’m impressed, Ms. Robin. You take after your brother far more than I anticipated.”

Robin remained unfazed in the face of the jade snake, “Thank you for the compliment.”

“So,” Gallagher spoke up again, “10% Express, 15% IPC, Penacony adopts the IPC Credit. First and final offer, take it or leave it.”

Several seconds of silence followed. Then Aventurine leaned just a bit closer to Jade’s hat.

“If I was a gambling man, I’d take the deal,” Aventurine said quietly. The second part of that statement went unsaid.

Several more seconds of silence followed. Then, almost reluctantly, Jade spoke.

“…I’m assuming there are additional stipulations to this deal?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Gallagher said, holding up two fingers, “One, if the IPC tries anything deemed unscrupulous toward Penacony or its autonomy, the whole thing is off and I’m not paying you a cent.”

Jade sighed, “Is this ‘security’ measure due to the event that took place yesterday?”

“The measure was always going to be there,” Gallagher explained, “You just went and justified it yesterday.”

Jade did not turn around to where she absolutely knew a pair of smug magenta eyes were gleaming at her.

“What is stopping you from pulling the rug when you please?” She continued.

Gallagher’s lips thinned into a wry line, “That’s the neat part — you don’t. Nothing but the good of my word and a little bit of trust.”

Jade didn’t dwell on what was likely some sort of thinly veiled jab for very long, “Fine. And the second?”

“If things go well, we can open up talks again in ten years,” Gallagher said, “Penacony years, to be precise.”

Which were also Express years if Caelus remembered correctly. Not too much time really, especially compared to Amber Eras.

Jade exchanged one more glance at Aventurine, who gave her the most obvious ‘do it’ nod in existence, before the Stoneheart of Credit let out one last sigh.

“Very well,” Jade hissed more than said, “The IPC accepts these terms.”

“Well, I’ll cheers to that,” Gallagher said, not looking particularly interested in cheering at all, “Anyone else want to say anything before we wrap up? Got a business to attend to, after all.”

“Actually,” Himeko started, “The Express was wondering if it was within the terms to offer the IPC a little deal of our own.”

Caelus’ posture straightened a bit. It was showtime.

“If they’re willing to hear it, I’ll play,” said Gallagher.

Himeko turned to Jade, “Well, Ms Jade? Are you interested in an exchange?”

“An exchange?” Repeated the Stoneheart that specialized in them, “Go on, Ms. Himeko. I’m listening.”

Himeko smiled, “The Express is willing to offer 5% of our shares in return for a small favor.”

Jade leaned back out of her barstool.

“What favor, exactly?”

Caelus briefly cleared his throat and suddenly all eyes were on him.

Gallagher was right, he was nervous. He was nervous from the second he stepped through the door. 

The only thing was, he was never nervous about the negotiations.

He was nervous about this. 

“You agree that the individual known as Firefly and the wanted Stellaron Hunter known as SAM become legally distinct entities,” Caelus declared, more or less reciting what Himeko had told him earlier that day, “In doing so, you will no longer pursue Firefly for anything she does or has done acting in the capacity as SAM.”

A mere two seconds after he finished speaking, Caelus notice his phone suddenly buzz. Then it buzzed again and again, no doubt flooded by messages from Firefly herself.

Seems like Silver Wolf really was streaming the negotiation after all.

“…Interesting,” Jade said after a momentary pause, “Why not ask us to drop the bounty entirely?”

Caelus eyed her dryly, “Why do you think?”

The Stellaron Hunters still had work to do. But, at least this way, Firefly could be one step closer to the life she truly wanted.

“Is there anyway we can work to minimize the amount of damage the Stellaron Hunters will be causing the IPC in the future?” Jade continued, “If I remember correctly, that Stellaron Hunter is the cause of a massive R&D delay after a sole prototype mech model was utterly destroyed in an altercation.”

When Aventurine rolled his magenta eyes behind Jade’s head, Caelus knew he had his tacit permission to say whatever he was going to say next.

“Look, Ms. Stoneheart, you’ve already tried to beat me up over this already,” Caelus said plainly, “Do you want this extra 5%? Because otherwise you’re going to have remove the double ads on the IPC streaming service and I’m pretty damn sure that’s a step up from what I’m literally already offering you.”

That got a few guffaws out of Gallagher. Even Robin couldn’t quite hide her snickers and she was on a good number of those ads.

“If that deal is fine with you, then it’s fine with me,” Gallagher told Jade, “Act quick. Doesn’t look like Mr. Stellaron is nearly as patient as I am.”

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.

Then, after what felt like an eternity to Caelus, the trailblazer watched as the big hat in front of him slowly dipped downwards, then back upwards.

“It seems like you have a deal, Mr. Caelus,” Jade said, a renewed if shrewd smile adorning her features, “I suppose I will be doing business with a Stellaron Hunter after all.”

This time, Caelus didn’t even try to deny it. He just smiled as the incessant buzzing in his pocket indicated he was now getting a call, barely even realizing that Robin was reaching over Himeko to offer him a well-earned high five.

“A Trailblazer, Ms. Jade,” Himeko corrected in his stead, “And you would do well to remember.”

“Very well, I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore, does it?” Jade said,

Them she turned her attention back to the bartender, “Mr. Gallagher?”

“Hmm?” Gallagher said, pushing off the bar, “Still got more to say?”

Jade shook her head, then just gestured to the wall of booze standing behind him.

“You wouldn’t happen to still be offering that free drink would you?”

Caelus had stemmed the absolute firestorm of texts and voicemails by repeatedly messaging the still buzzing Firefly that it would be better if he explain in person. As such, Himeko and Caelus left rather quickly after negotiations ended proper, bidding the others farewell until the festivities tomorrow on the Radiant Feldspar.

He took two steps into the parlor car and was subsequently glomped by BHF: Fiery Advancing Tackle Hug with such force that he was suddenly spinning.

“I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you why didn’t you tell me I love you—“

Caelus just held on to his crying girlfriend for dear life, her veins glowing so vividly with energy that he though she might actually combust. He laughed as their shared momentum sent them carouselling across the car, coming only to a stop when Dan Heng stepped in to steady them from crashing in Pom-Pom’s favorite potted plant.

He also ignored the telltale snapping of March 7th’s camera coming from somewhere else in the train car; something told him these photos wouldn’t be used for blackmail.

Once Firefly had somewhat calmed down enough for Caelus to deposit both of themselves in on nearby sofa chair, Himeko spoke up.

“We didn’t tell you because we didn’t know if we could pull it off, quite simply,” Himeko explained, “Even if we had a fairly good plan beforehand, there were still some variables at play.”

“Jade still had to take the offer, after all,” Caelus said, “There was always a chance she could say no.”

Firefly wiped the edges of her still teary sunsets, “Is that what you two were talking about this morning?”

“Yes. Caelus explained to me what your predicament was, as well as your dream,” Himeko said, The Astral Express found itself in a position to offer you assistance and so we came up with a plan.”

“The Nameless do not typically seek rewards for their deeds,” Caelus repeated Himeko’s words from the negotiation, ”But… we have no problem with using said reward to help someone else out.”

“I… that’s… That’s so much money,” Firefly murmurred, “Are you really alright giving it away just for me?”

“You mean a lot to Caelus,” Welt said, “And it’s not like we Nameless can use IPC credits for train fuel, given the Astral Express’ particularly unique energy source.”

“That’s right!” Pom-Pom said, marching over on his short legs, “The Astral Express is powered by the spirit of trailblazing, not any amount of currency!”

“I mean, some new cars would be nice,” March said.

“We still have 5%, March,” Dan Heng reminded the archer calmly, “I’m sure we’ll find some use for it.”

“Anyway,” Pom-Pom said, “Do you need me yet?”

Firefly, and only Firefly, looked at the conductor with some amount of puzzlement.

“Uh,” Caelus said a bit sheepishly, “Well, we haven’t made the offer yet.”

Pom-Pom pouted, “Then make it! The conductor’s schedule is always busy, you know?”

“Don’t you have to make it?” Caelus said, “For it to be official?”

“It was your idea!” Pom-Pom pointed out, “So I’m putting you on the spot.”

“Cae?” Firefly asked, tiling her head in slight confusion, “Didn’t you already make the offer?”

Caelus smiled, “Not this offer, Fly. We didn’t want to make it until after the negotiations just in case things didn’t pan out… but I think you’ll really like this one.”

The hunter-turned-trailblazer stood up, received something from a similarly smiling Himeko, then turned back to Firefly. The moment she saw a flash of gold in his palm, Firefly felt her heart rocket up into her head and threaten to detonate like Glamothian artillery. 

“Uh, I never thought I’d be the one to do this,” Caelus began, “So um, sorry if it falls a bit flat.”

“Just get on with it!” March yelled from the side, “Or I’ll do it myself.”

Dan Heng elbowed her in the side, but Caelus could see he was smiling too.

Caelus held out his hand, revealing a flat passenger pin made of carved gold metal with a red base. 

It was a familiar pin, a pin that every person in the parlor car currently wore.

“Firefly, I—“ Caelus stopped, then corrected himself, “We, as the Nameless, would like to invite you to join us on our journeys as a crew member of the Astral Express.”

Sunsets wide with uncomprehending awe stared at the little golden pin that once represented what she felt — no, what she knew was a pipe dream.

But then again, Firefly knew she couldn’t dream. And she also knew she wasn’t currently in a dreampool.

“A little stuffy on the delivery, but that works, Caelus. Good job!” The conductor chuckled, “Well, Ms. Firefly? The offer is open.”

Firefly made eye contact with every person in the room before her vocal chords remembered how to function.

“D-Don’t you have to make this decision together? You’ve talked about this, right?”

“Already have,” March 7th deadpanned, holding out his phone, “Through the almighty power of group-texting.”

Sure enough, her phone displayed a simple question posited by Caelus sometime last night, followed by a unanimous string of five yeses.

“What about the Hunters,” Firefly said, “I still have scripts I will have to carry out… are you sure you want to have a criminal as a crew member?”

“We understand you still have your obligations. But both Kafka and Caelus assured me they won’t last forever,” Himeko said calmly, “Other than that… crew, raise your hand if you are or once were considered a criminal.”

Caelus, Dan Heng, and surprisingly Welt Yang raised his hand. At Firefly’s somewhat flabbergasted look toward the elder trailblazer, Welt chuckled.

“You see, Ms. Firefly, it’s always morally right to pirate the IPC streaming service.”

Without prompting, a disembodied hand appeared out of a portal of Aether. Welt gave Silver Wolf a high-five before the hand disappeared back to wherever the hacker actually was.

“Pom-Pom fun fact of the day!” the conductor suddenly declared as if it had always been a thing, “Astral Navigator Bob the Tousler was in fact an IPC wanted criminal.”

“This was fact checked by me and the archives,” Dan Heng assured, “It’s true.”

“And before you start saying you’re unworthy or something along those lines,” Welt politely cut in, “I would like to remind you that the mission to stop the Order would have been quite literally impossible without your help.” 

Caelus watched as the last clouds of doubt began to dissipate over her twin sunsets. Sunsets that were beginning to shined brightly through a wall Firefly was beginning to realize no longer existed. 

A wall that could truly no longer separate them.

“Caelus told me that you sought to leave your past behind, to defy your fate and claim a new life for yourself,” Himeko explained, “That, at least to me, sounds like the quintessential making of a Trailblazer, no matter what your future may hold.”

“Also, it justifies Caelus really big room,” Pom-Pom added, “Seriously, was already thinking about kicking Dan Heng out of the archives and making him a roommate so he could have an actual room himself…”

The look of sheer terror that flickered across Dan Heng’s face gave rise to quite a few chuckles.

Firefly closed her eyes, squeezing the last of her doubts away through one last heavy exhale.

“Are you all truly, truly sure you would like to have me aboard,” Firefly managed before she felt herself going quite numb again from emotional overload.

Caelus gently reached out, opening her hand and placing the pin within her open palm.

“We’ve already decided, Fly,” he said softly, keeping his hand on hers, “The rest is up to you.”

Firefly felt the metal in her palm, heated by the warmth of the most important person in the galaxy to her, and began to cry.

There were no tricks. There were no strings. There were no more obstacles. There was nothing that Firefly could logically see holding her back other than the lingering doubts that all of this was just too good to be true.

Caelus had given her the chance to step out of AR-26710’s shadow. The Astral Express had given her the means to leap forward into her new future.

Firefly’s hand closed around the rectangular pin, fingers locking tightly with Caelus’ as she felt the rectangular edges of her pass dig into her palm as if the small article itself was assuring her that it was real.

“Yes!” Firefly cried, almost hitting Caelus with BHF: Fiery Advancing Tackle Hug 2 as she leapt out of her seat and into his arms, “Yes! yes! yes! I accept. Of course I accept!”

Caelus just breathed out relief he knew by all intents and purposes he really shouldn’t have been holding and a current of warmth radiated throughout the parlor car.

Actually, wait, no. That was teal light. They really were producing heat.

“Alright alright,” Pom-Pom yelled sharply, “Calm it down before you set things on fire.”

It was amazing how quickly Firefly snapped almost to attention at the conductor’s orders, the only signs of her previous outburst the lingering tears at the edges of her eyes.

Glamothian military discipline was a scary thing indeed.

“Ah, right, sorry.” 

The conductor just nodded, “We’re going to do this right, proper, and on time this time. Unlike a certain someone’s initiation.”

Caelus just rubbed the back of his head, knowing exactly what the conductor was referring to.

“Oh, is there some sort of… initiation?”

“Just a simple oath,” March said, “It’s a little cringey, but it should be easy, right?”

“Cringey?” Pom-Pom gasped, “I’ll have you on double dish duty if you call the trailblazer creed cringey again!”

March promptly shut up and Firefly let out some mixture of a sniffle and a giggle.

“Alright, then repeat after me,” Pom-Pom said, “And quickly, it’s almost time for dinner.”

Firefly nodded, almost vigorously, as the fluffy conductor began the motto. Faithfully on well-trained instinct, she followed their lead.

“One, no matter the ebb and flow of a fate, we will never stay within the lines.”

She didn’t really stay within the lines to begin with. Or maybe that was Caelus finally rubbing off on her.

“Two, even in the face of tempestuous seas, we will always align.”

She would always stand by her allies, be they Hunter or Express, no matter what was ahead.

“Three, even if we don’t gain the upper hand, we will always fight for right.”

She had and would always fight for a better world, if not for herself than for the others that had given their everything for her just to have her fleeting chance at life.

“Four, even if forgotten by the world, we will never care a rap for hindsight.”

She would never regret her actions, her future was hers and hers alone.

“Five, no matter how bleak the cosmos get, we will light the night.”

She had waded through the bleakest depths of hell the cosmos could offer, yet here she still stood blazing.

“Six, even when there are wheels within wheels, we will always go ahead.”

She knew there was no problem she couldn’t handle, not for someone who had faced the jaws of Tayzzyronth.

Caelus fastened the pin onto the collar of her blazer, the Express Pass fitting snugly against the fabric like it was always meant to be there.

Pom-Pom said the last line. Caelus smiled. 

The final verse needed no amount of introspection.

A pair of sparkling sunsets said farewell to the past, looking deep toward the sunrise of a new chapter reflected in shimmering Stellaron gold.

Her future, it was finally here.

Hand in hand with Caelus, Firefly cheered the final line in unison with everyone else, heralding the start of her new life with six simple yet unforgettable words.

“May this journey lead us starward!”

Chapter Text

“Thus, on behalf of the Seat of Divine Foresight, I’m extending an invitation to attend the Xianzhou Luofu’s Wardance Ceremony.”

The newest member of the Astral Express stifled a shuddering yawn at the towering, holographic projection of a man as he delivered an address in deep baritone to the crew’s breakfast assembly.

Or, as Caelus and March had playfully referred to it as, the Astral Express ‘Pajama Assembly.’

The somewhat crowded party car booth watched as the man bowed slightly, finishing his message with a lazy if genuine smile.

“To the cherished heroes that aided the Luofu in its time of need, your presence would be greatly appreciated.”

The hologram flickered out, the ensuring silence only broken by the deafening crunches of March 7th’s sugary rainbow cereal mix.

General Jingyuan was a person Firefly had only really seen and read about on Xianzhou history blogposts that peaked her interest during her nightly sleepless limbo granted by her genetically engineered nonsomnia. Nonetheless, she pushed her head off of Caelus’ shoulder and forced all of her working, non-drowsy brain cells to key back into the conversation.

“Well, things are getting lively,” Himeko began, stirring her second (third?) cup of coffee, “We’ve barely recovered from The Family’s Charmony Festival, and we’re already being invited to another special event.”

Firefly noticed Caelus frown.

“To be honest… I’m still kinda recovering from the trauma caused by the last ‘festivity,’” he said with a voice also somewhat bogged from lingering sleepiness.

They had had another trailblazer movie night last night with March and Dan Heng, and then had further ‘caught up’ after they kicked the others out of their room. While Firefly herself had gotten somewhat of a full fill from three hours of sleep, the same could not be said for her still yawning other.

“Yeah, me too,” March agreed with the still scowling batter, “But wait, won’t it look unprofessional if we attend two ceremonies in a row?”

Dan Heng sighed, “So… we should leave you two behind to take care of the Express?” 

Firefly stifled a giggle as she watched Caelus’ expression twist into a grimace into a different sort. 

Seems like he still didn’t like to do his chores.

“H-Hey!” March protested, “That’s not what I meant. I’m all for some fun… I just, y’know.”

“Hope we don’t get ambushed by another day of the week?” Caelus offered, “You think Monday would be worse than Sunday? Maybe Wednesday?”

Welt made a thoughtful noise from the chair he had pulled over to the booth table.

“This is a deliberate political maneuver: the Xianzhou Luofu has recently overcome a crisis, and by holding the Wardance, they’re demonstrating to everyone that they’ve returned to a state of peace and safety.”

Firefly remembered learning about the incident; she more or less knew what had happened from talking with both Blade and Kafka. She hated the Lord Ravager Phantylia more than the others, if only because her machinations couldn’t be resolved by steel fists and hellfire alone.

Dan Heng tried to placate March by explaining what the War Dance was about; he even captivated Firefly with the idea of a martial tournament. 

But, no matter how many times the dragon scion stressed how harmless the celebratory festival was, the logical soldier still barking orders within her just knew that the Aeons (and maybe Elio) would find a way to make it complicated.

“Uh…” Firefly began, only continuing when Caelus gave her a slight reassuring nudge, “Wouldn’t it also be difficult logistically speaking? There’s a lot in Penacony that hasn’t been resolved yet…”

Caelus’ lips also flattened slightly. Firefly knew they were on similar wavelengths.

The political situation was still frighteningly fragile. Not to mention that Sunday was still apparently at large, as revealed by their recent verbal tangle with the IPC.

And then there was still her own personal list…

Firefly drew the thin blanket hung over her shoulders tighter as Welt hummed in thought.

“Ms. Firefly does have a point,” Welt said, “We can’t exactly drop everything we’re doing here. Not when we’ve become so entrenched in the local politics.”

“And there’s the matter of Miss Ruan Mei’s errand as well…” Himeko added, not elaborating as she stirred her coffee a bit more, “That will take a week or two.”

The ‘adults’ thought in silence for a second, in that specific way that made the younger express members all believe they were actually communicating with telepathy.

“So here’s the plan,” intoned Himeko, “Pom-Pom will take everyone to the Xianzhou Luofu. Mr. Yang and I will meet up with Miss Ruan Mei. Meanwhile, you three will represent the Express and attend the Wardance.”

“What about me?” Firefly asked quietly.

“You can choose to go with whoever you please,” Himeko said, “Given this is your first experience as a trailblaz—“

“I’ll go wherever Caelus goes,” Firefly declared, earning a quiet chuckle from the group as she made the easiest decision ever made during this Amber Era. 

March rolled her eyes, “How predictable.”

Firefly wrapped her significant other’s arm up in a blanketed vice, causing said other to chuckle under his breath as her cheeks puffed out shamelessly at the Express’ archer. 

She helped kill a God. She could afford to be a bit shameless.

“Dan Heng? Caelus?” Welt asked, “How does this sound?”

“That is fine with me,” Dan Heng said, “It will be nice to catch up with some… old friends.”

Caelus’ expression remained very neutral, despite Firefly’s attempt to devour his right arm. 

Then, after thoughtful second, he looked Himeko dead in the eye and spoke.

“If we get wrapped up in another conspiracy and/or disaster, I’m stealing one of those high tech spatially self-compacting Xianzhou trash cans and you can’t stop me this time.” 

A whistle of a laugh escaped Firefly’s lips as she finally released his arm, “You and your trash.”

“Wait wait wait,” March suddenly cut in, “You’re telling me Mr. Galactic Dumpster Diver has always been like this. Even as a Stellaron Hunter?”

The entire table seemed very interested. Even Himeko’s coffee spoon paused its ever trailblazing circles around the perimeter of her cup.

“Yeah… uh,” Firefly admitted with a nod, “It… actually may have been my fault.”

Caelus’ gold eyes suddenly alit with recognition.

“One man’s trash is another man’s treasure…” Caelus said, murmuring it absently as if to prove the authenticity of the memory to himself.

Firefly shuffled audibly under her blanket as she whirled toward him.

“You remember that?” She said, probing his expression with searching, sparkling sunsets.

He smiled, “I do now.” 

March’s inevitable demand ‘for the deets’ was halted when Himeko politely cleared her throat, collecting everyone’s attention once more. 

“So… we’re all in agreement, then?” She asked a final time.

“As long as they’re going, I’m going,” March said.

Dan Heng nodded, “This plan is acceptable.”

Caelus flashed a toothy grin, “And I can’t wait to get a new trash can.”

Firefly shook her head; she knew her voice in the matter wasn’t quite needed. Their next destination was all but decided.

It seemed she would be getting to see the sights of the Xianzhou Luofu after all.

After confirming they would be departing tomorrow morning, the crew dispersed to attend to their own preparations for the festivities tonight. Caelus was saddled with today’s chores with any attempt Firefly made to help him throughly shot down by Himeko’s very non-negotiable orders to rest. As such, she had nothing to do until March let her know she was ready to go shopping for ‘her brand new Astral Express wardrobe.’

Firefly consigned herself once again to the blanket cocoon on Caelus’ bed, spending the rest of her morning pursing her lips as she scrolled up and down a screenshot of a journal on her phone.

1. See the Golden Hour sunset.
2. Eat an oak cake roll.
3. Visit the Penacony Grand Museum during the Moment of Sol.
4. Buy a pretty teal dress during the Moment of Dusk.
5. Get drunk.
6. See a show at the Penacony Grand Theater
7. Have a real date in the Blue Hour.
8. Dance on the Eventide on the Sea of Dreams.
9. Go swimming during the Moment of Oasis.
10. Ride a pinball machine.
11. Play one (and only one) game of craps at a casino…

And many other entries that remained uncrossed..

Firefly’s finger hovered briefly over number 6. The fight with Sunday technically counted… right?

Her little sigh of defeat was interrupted as she felt a head push over her shoulder, causing her to drop her phone on her blanketed lap as a very well-trained habit halted her already climbing hands from carrying out an even deeper ingrained reflex to punish the sudden intruder with a military headlock that would make Kafka proud.

“Hey. What’s up?” 

She sighed a little louder as she let her arms fall, “Cae, do you remember what happened the last time you snuck up on me?”

“No,” he said, though his cheeky smile told her he probably did.

Firefly flicked him underneath his chin, then picked up her phone to show him her screen.

His golden eyes darted over her phone, “Is that… the list?”

“Yep,” she confirmed, remembering their previous little stunt at the bar, “How much of it did you remember?”

“I…” he began, then paused as his eyes widened, “Actually, wait here for a sec…”

Caelus made an abrupt exit from his bed, purposefully striding toward the two unpacked suitcases. Firefly watched as he shimmied carefully between them, reaching toward the suitbag that was hanging from the coatrack.

Firefly inched forward on the bed. She squinted as Caelus appraised the bag with a careful hand.

Wait. That bag was far too long to be a suit ba—

With one fluid motion, Caelus unzipped the dress bag, flowing sheets of fabric spilling into the world as if they were breaking free their plastic cocoon.

Firefly’s heart nearly did airborne somersaults into her throat.

He didn’t.

Caelus lightly shook off the black bag to reveal a misty teal dress: an achingly familiar misty teal dress that she had window-shopped maybe one too many times from that very specific high-end clothing store she always passed on her way to her reclusive little Golden Hour hideout. Modest black sleeves, a beautifully crafted teal bodice, lengths of glittering teal sheer that echoed her combustion wings just a bit too well.

“I saw this… and it was one of the first things that started jogging my memory,” Caelus said, walking back over to her with a dry chuckle, “I guess you could call it an impulse buy?”

He did. He really did.

He had bought her the only thing in the Golden Hour she had actually wanted. 

With barely a figment of his memory of her intact.

And, apparently, on impulse.

Firefly ran her hand over the silken thread dyed her favorite shade of green, letting her fingers effortless slip across the smooth thread.

“Caelus,” she struggled to whisper, “This is… I…”

“It actually helped me break out of Sunday’s dream since he never deleted it from my room,” Caelus admitted, “Anyway… it’s for you. If you like i—.”

Caelus barely had time to get the dress out of the way before Firefly threw her arms over his shoulders, locking her hands together as she smashed his lips into hers.

“F-Fly!” Caelus sputtered as they broke apart, falling rear-first onto the carpet behind him as a soft curtain of silver hair framed his head from the face mere inches above his own.

“You’re just really, really good at making me cry this week, aren’t you?” Firefly murmured wetly through sparkling sunsets and wobbly lips that couldn’t quite help but curl upwards into a smile, “it’s not very good for my image, y’know?”

“And you’re getting really, really good at tackle-hugging,” Caelus said, mirroring her smile, “It’s not very good for my back.”

Firefly laughed as she relinquished the straddle she had on his captive abdomen, taking the dress from his outstretched hand.

“I love it. I love it. I love it!” She exclaimed, spinning around to face a mirror as she held it up to her chest. It fit her frame perfectly.

She didn’t bother asking how he remembered her sizes, knowing him well enough that the answer would simply be ‘lucky guess’ whether it was or not.

So she asked the other question that suddenly burned across her mind. It was a question that slammed an emergency brake on her indulgent bout of glee because she suddenly keenly remembered which boutique Caelus had undoubtedly bought the dress from.

“How much did this cost?”

Caelus made a dismissive noise as he got up, “Ah… don’t worry about that.”

Firefly’s nonplussed sunsets narrowed, “Cae.”

Caelus looked away and crossed his arms. Y’know, like a brat.

“I’m not telling.” 

Firefly frowned, “Cae.”

Caelus started whistling as if that was going to make her stop asking.

With a sigh, Firefly decided it was time to break out her tried and true secret weapon: The Pout-Fly.

“Cae-lus!”

Caelus must have known, because he desperately tried craning his neck toward the other side of the room to break line of sight. Firefly countered, cupping his chin and forcing him to take the full brunt of The Pout-Fly with her inescapable grip.

He lasted for two agonizing seconds. Then his girlfriend puffed out her cheeks just a little more…

“Alrrght, alrrght,” he managed through his squished cheeks, “Fnne!”

Still got it! Firefly cheered gleefully in her head. 

Firefly relinquished her other’s head, “So?”

Caelus massaged his jaw and murmurred, “3.3...”

“3.3? 3.3 what?”

Caelus winced. Firefly doubled it was from physical pain.

“3.3… million.”

Firefly felt her eyes bug out of her head like a Swarm Mother when she heard the first syllable of the ‘m word,’ her hands rapidly recalibrating to hold something that (in her eyes) was threaded in Sigonian gold at best.

“Pre or post!?” She stammered wildly, desperately hopeful she could find any lingering monetary justification to cling on,“Pre or post Penacony credit conversion!?”

Somehow, his expression fell even further, “…Post.”

Firefly had felt a lot of emotions in her life. 

This was the first time she had ever felt joy, despair, and the desire to throw up her breakfast at such equal intensities that she couldn’t exactly differentiate between the three.

She gave the gift one last woeful, longing glance as her final possible excuse slipped through her fingers like the dress in her hands was about to. Then she steeled her sunset eyes with resolve most painful.

She opened her mouth, forcing the next words out like she was choking, “We’re returning i—“

“We’re not returning it,” Caelus politely cut her off, his wince defaulting to the more-stoic-than-usual expression he always wore whenever their relationship chanced upon a verbal spar.

Firefly shoved the garment, or rather the price tag she had overlooked, closer to his face.

“But, the cos—“

Apparently, it was Caelus’ turn to sigh. Unlike hers, his sounded a bit more amused. 

“The Express is getting 5% of Penacony shares and, even beyond that, I have plenty of credits on hand from a little, uh, entrepreneurial foray in Xianzhou business management,” Caelus explained plainly, “It really was nothing.”

Firefly’s eyebrow raised as her gaze sharpened a degree toward a glower, “3.3 million? Nothing?”

“Ok, ok. Maybe not nothing,” Caelus placated, “But my point still stands.”

Her glare abated as her eyes once again wistfully glancing at the dress.

“….There’s a lot of more useful things we could get with that money.”

A crack appeared on Caelus’ expression as he pursed his lips, “‘Fly, does the dress make you happy. Be honest.”

For a second she didn’t say anything, but his gold eyes propelled her to answer.

“…Yes.”

He held out his hands in a shrug, “Pretty good use if you ask me.“

Another warring second of silence passed over Firefly. She opened her lips again, intent to tell him that ‘use’ was very biased, but Caelus was faster.

“Someone is going to wear that dress to the party tonight,” he said with Finality that would make Elio proud, “And if it isn’t going to be you, it’s going to be me.”

Her reflexive response of “you wouldn’t” was instantly countered with the knowledge that the Galactic Baseballer totally would wear a dress to probably the most important diplomatic event he had ever been to just to prove point. 

Firefly maintained eye contact for two more brisk seconds before the rest of her willpower leaked out of her with a slow, shaky huff.

Caelus… was right. She wanted this. She wanted this a lot. And there wasn’t really a real reason she could use to argue against it. Not anymore.

She just still wasn’t quite used to getting what she wanted.

“You still spoil me too much.”

Caelus shrugged again, “Kinda don’t plan to stop.”

Firefly closed the little distance, gently pecking him on the cheek.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

She felt his hands pull her closer by the waist, his grin curving into sly edge “Y’know what else you can thank me with?”

Firefly giggled, leaning closer to indulge him.

“And what’s that, Cae?”

He leaned in.

“Sparing me from—“

He was interrupted from a loud, cheery voice coming outside their room’s door.

“CAELUS! FIREFLY!” Hollered March 7th, “ARE YOU READY?!”

Caelus’ face suddenly pulled away, twisting into a rare grimace. This time, Firefly was certain it was some sort of physical pain.

“From that,” he said flatly. 

Firefly blinked. Twice. Then she broke out of his arms with a humorous flavor of disbelief. 

“Really?” Firefly said sweetly, “You’re really asking to abandon your long lost girlfriend just because you don’t want to go on a shopping trip?”

He made a series of very noncommittal movements, “With permission.”

From his somewhat aggrieved expression, Firefly was 95% sure he remembered that one time he hadn’t asked for permission.

Good.

Firefly contemplated bring out the pout again, but then chose a different weapon she knew was effective. A particular favorite of Silver Wolf whenever she wanted something.

The guilt-trip.

She pressed a finger against her chin in faux thoughtfulness, “But Dan Heng is coming. He’d be sad if you didn’t go.”

And probably in pain. But she didn’t need to say that.

Firefly watched her verbal teeth sink into him, knowing they had the intended effect as his lips began to purse with the noble weight of solidarity in suffering.

Caelus’ posture sagged and Firefly knew she won.

“…Fine,” he said with all the enthusiasm of a child boarding a school bus.

“There, there,” Firefly consoled, patting him on the head, “Trust me. It’ll be fun.”

Caelus rolled his golden eyes, though he chuckled despite himself.

“I doubt it.” 

Firefly laughed too. He was probably right.

Caelus was, in fact, very right.

Firefly could have guessed that March 7th was an enthusiastic shopper based on her vibes alone… but it turns out the Reverie Resort proper (like, not even in the Dream) had not one but three entire brick and mortar shopping centers just waiting to be plundered by the Express’ fashion-addled archer.

She was dead tired halfway through the first mall. And she wasn’t even the one carrying all the bags… Aeons bless Dan Heng.

After buying more clothes and shoes (why did she need three pairs of heels?!) than she could ever need thanks to the horrid combination of Caelus’ loose, apparently nigh bottomless wallet (?) and March’s infectiously good fashion sense, their consumerist odyssey came to an abrupt end when Himeko all but summoned them back to the Express in order to have enough time to get ready.

It was a good thing, too, because the Astral Navigator was texting them it was time to go not a second after she had just finished applying her makeup for the evening. Apparently they were making a little detour before heading to the party venue proper.

She gave her reflection one last appraisal. The dream meant she didn’t have to worry about ruining any of her clothes due to a surprise SAM deployment, otherwise she wouldn’t have ever considered wearing her new dress if there was even a sliver of a chance they would be seeing combat.

Still, it was hard to believe that the dolled-up girl looking back at her was her, even if she was actively telling herself to stop thinking like that.                        

“Hey, how does this look?”

Firefly turned away from the stranger in the mirror and her heart skipped a beat or four.

She had seen Caelus in a suit before. Many times, in fact, thanks to Kafka’s professional influence on certain missions.

She had not, however, seen Caelus in a suit quite like this.

And he looked very, very good.

Caelus —or whoever had helped dress him because she just knew he would try and wear the same old everyday getup to a diplomatic gala if he could— had picked out a tuxedo with a modest trim that matched the Watchmaker’s Legacy sitting proudly atop his head. He wore a yellow-orange vest that matched the colors of his favored jacket underneath.

“I always forget how nicely you clean up,” Firefly murmured, closing the distance to straighten his bow tie, “Must be all the trash cans. Hold still.”

“March helped,” he admitted as he stiffened his neck. 

“Then remind me to thank her,” Firefly said, as she tightened the fabric in place, “There we go.”

“I hate ties,” he muttered, clearly resisting the urge to fiddle with Firefly’s tidying up, “I’m suffocating to death.”

“You’ll get better,” Firefly assured, reaching over to pluck her handbag from the bathroom table when something caught her eye.

Firefly took the old pocketwatch from where it lay discarded from their shared bath, “You almost forgot this.”

Caelus took the timepiece after a moment of hesitance, “Was this trinket important?”

Firefly widened her eyes in slight surprise, “You don’t remember?” 

“No. Not yet, I guess,” Caelus said, turning the pocketwatch and chain in his palm a few times before clipping it to his side, “…I feel like it is with you looking at me like that.”

Firefly smiled, “I… suppose it is.”

Caelus tilted his head, as if he was waiting for an answer. When he didn’t get one, he clicked his tongue.

“Not telling me about this one, huh?”

Firefly just smiled as she strode out the bathroom door, “I figured I’d humor Elio just a little bit. For his sake.”

Caelus made a fairly disrespectful motion with his eyes, “‘Course.”

As soon as they entered the parlor car, Firefly heard Caelus groan. It didn’t take her very long to figure out why.

Caelus stepped in front of Dan Heng, whose suit was identical sans the white and green color palette, with visible consternation. The two young men then sighed in unison, turning to the somewhat damning camera flash with the same solemn resignation mirrored on each of their faces.

“You did this on purpose,” Dan Heng accused March outright.

“Uh, duh? Of course I did!” March giggled, hiding half her face behind her signature camera, “You two look so so cute!”

“Well, it’s nice to see that dress again,” Caelus said at March’s own outfit, “I actually thought you bought it just to wear it that one time in Belobog for half a day.”

It was to no surprise that March had a stunning dress of her own, and it was clear the Express archer was very aware of that fact.

“I’m not that wasteful, thank you very— OH. MY. GOD!”

Firefly wasn’t exactly expecting the incredibly loud squeal in her direction. Nor was she expecting the absolute barrage of camera flashes searing her retinas.

“You are absolutely so ridiculously beautiful! Stunning! Gorgeous!” March exclaimed with all the enthusiasm of a certain knight of beauty, “Where did you get this dress!?”

Firefly felt her face flush red, feeling just a bit self-conscious as she shyly nodded toward Caelus.

March pivoted to the Galactic Baseballer with an accusatory whirl, “So you DO have a fashion sense!”

Caelus grimaced like he had been handed a death sentence, probably because his trusty excuse to dodge March’s shopping trips had been more or less obliterated, “Really only for one person.”

Any further interrogation from March was halted by a now-familiar ‘ahem.’

Himeko strode into the car, wearing a more formal version of her usual dress sans her usual overcoat. Welt followed closely behind in an austere but classy suit of his own.

“Thank you all for adjusting your schedules for the earlier departure,” she said, checking her gold watch for the time, “Dan Heng, have you let the others know?”

“I have,” the archivist said with a quick nod, “They’re on their way.”

“Excellent,” Himeko said, “Then let’s disembark post-haste.”

“W-Wait!” March objected, “Can you at least tell us where we’re going? It’s waaaay too early for the gala!”

Himeko smiled, “We’re going to go fulfill an important duty to our fellow Trailblazers before things get too hectic.”

That was all the explanations the Astral Navigator graced them with as she hurried them off the Express and into the Reverie’s private hangar bay like children on a (very expensive) field trip. 

It was still a somewhat dizzying to Firefly. 

Less than three days ago, she was sneaking into Penacony though unused service tunnels. Now, she was being hurriedly escorted by hotel staff to the private dreampools they would be using for tonight’s festivities like royalty, apparently given to the Express to access the dream on a permanent basis. It truly was like going from a penniless vagrant to actual royalty in less than week.

Well, given their shareholder status, they basically were Penacony royalty. Not that Firefly would ever get used to that jarring idea.

She heaved a mental sigh as she numbly chalked down the entirety of Penacony as a new though somewhat non-discreet Stellaron Hunter safehouse outside of IPC jurisdiction 

Firefly somewhat glared at the fluorescent dream fluid in a pool obviously meant for two.

“…Fly,” asked Caelus, already knee deep in the pool as he read her current conundrum clean off her pursed lips, “Do you really think that any place in Penacony would sell you a dress that isn’t dreamfluid proof?”

“Yes,” she answered swiftly.

Caelus opened to retort, but paused when he remembered exactly how many peddling billboards he had swatted aside walking a mere two blocks in the Golden Hour.

“Ok, yeah, you’re probably right,” he conceded before offering her his hand nonetheless, “I literally have the receipt and it says its fine.”

Firefly doubted Caelus would lie about potentially ruining a 3 million credit dress, so she stepping into the dreampool without much more fuss. The vapors were already making her drowsy as they let the otherworldly fluid wash over them, dragging their consciousness deeper and deeper until they slipped under beneath the folds of reality and into the warm embrace of the dream. 

The usual-now-familiar sensation of falling was suddenly betrayed by the equally familiar if a bit more unwelcome sensation of slithering darkness encircling their consciousness. They both shivered as Something Unto Death (she refused to call it Sleepie) pulled them from their Family delegated endpoint and toward their intended destination.

They opened their eyes only when they could feel the ground beneath their feet, the gentle shadows giving way to the eternally sea blue light of Dreamflux Reef.

“Do you think Dreamflux Reef is this blue because Mikhail was from Lushaka?” Caelus asked idly as he offered her his hand, “Or because he liked the color blue?”

Firefly shrugged, but took his hand nonetheless, “I think that’s a silly question.”

“There are no silly questions,” Caelus intoned sagely, “Only silly answers.”

Firefly stifled a giggle despite herself, “Sure thing, Cae.”

Caelus followed a path through the sleepy streets they had taken before, catching up to Dan Heng and March underneath the electric blue neon sign along the way. Soon enough the street opened up into a familiar city square.

The rest of their group was waiting for them, standing at the polished stone balcony overlooking the Watchmaker’s eternally moonlit garden. Acheron and Boothill were also notably present, quietly (or,in Boothill’s case, as quietly as possible) discussing something with the Astral Express seniors.

Seeing the Emanator and the Galaxy Ranger confirmed that Firefly’s initial intuition was correct: they were here to pay their respects to the fallen Asdanan trailblazers of yore.

“Well well well, y’all lookin’ mighty fine,” Boothill greeted, tipping his hat as usual.

Acheron paused her conversation with Himeko to acknowledge the rest of the crew with a stoic nod.

Caelus’ gold eyes did a quick sweep of those gathered, “Where’s Gallagher?”

“Old dog is waitin’ for us up there,” Boothill answered, jabbing his cybernetic thumb toward the garden proper, “Said to settle up our business here, then meet ‘em up at old geezer.”

Firefly wasn’t quite sure he should be referring to the deceased Watchmaker as an old geezer, but she figured it was probably impossible to separate the cowboy and his flagrant irreverence. Even if it was somewhat endearing.

“Ah,” said Dan Heng, stepping forward, fishing out something from his suit pocket, “Then let’s not keep him waiting.”

“You two go on,” Boothill said, doffing his hat as all three of them approached the grave of Breukelen Tiernan, “I paid my formal dues with a good shot.”

Firefly tilted her head quizzically. Caelus noticed.

“That purple bullet from our last fight. Y’know, the one that broke his shield?” Caelus clarified quietly, “That was a burial rite bullet of this galaxy ranger.”

Firefly made a quiet oh with her lips before the sound of something snapping recaptured her attention.

Acheron had knelt down, placing three freshly snapped sticks of osenko incense in a small, humble ceramic burner that stood quietly on the polished stone tombstone. A smaller steel blade than her usual katana appeared in her hand, flashing across the tips of wood quick enough to light them instantly before it disappeared as quick as it came.

It was only upon seeing the Self-Annihilator of IX with clasped hands and a head bowed did Firefly finally put a name to the heavy air the woman always carried with her.  

Solemnity. In many ways, it made the Izumite a friend of a friend.

Dan Heng, meanwhile, simply poured what Firefly recognized as a small porcelain bottle of Xianzhou baijiu — the very same ancient alcohol that she knew Blade kept quietly in his quarters — in a small white cup, placing it next to the burning incense with the same heavy weight. 

“Ahem.”

The three others turned to see Himeko had approached them, carrying with her a bushel of white flowers.

“These are from Aunt Jessie,” the navigator explained, “She usually places flowers for each of them every year, but said it was more appropriate if we did it this year.”

Caelus took the offered flowers and Firefly went with the other four trailblazers as they paid they’re own respects to Tiernan’s counterpart, Razalina Jane Estella. The most recent trailblazer herself wasn’t very familiar with this individual either, so she let Himeko and March do most of the talking.

The other pathstriders had concluded their own respects by the time they were finished, so they began their journey up the towering staircase toward the Watchmaker’s final resting place.

“Ugh,” March groaned,  “I wouldn’t be wearing heels if I knew we were coming here first!”

Firefly gave the archer a pointed look, mostly out of revenge from her own dying ankles from the heels that March 7th herself had pleaded her to buy and wear. However, Himeko’s perfect, borderline impossible strides up the marble stairs in toeless gold stilettos made her swallow any snarky comment that could further implicate the dying throes of her womanly pride. 

They eventually crested the top of stairs, finding Penacony’s deputy waiting for them at the moonlit gazebo at the other end of the garden plaza. He was hunched over the balcony in front of Mikhail’s eternal rest, arms clearly at work doing something.  

Firefly noticed the way his shadow stretched a little too far under the moonlight; a constant reminder of the ever watchful memetic creature that always lurked beneath his feet.

“Took y’all long enough,” Gallagher’s gruff voiced called over his shoulder as they got closer, “Don’t you have a party to get to soon?”

“We know our priorities, Mr. Gallagher,” Himeko answered easily.

“How you holding up?” Caelus asked earnestly. Firefly correctly figured he was asking about the man’s Stellaron altered life contract. 

The old bloodhound let out a barking laugh, “Still kickin. And still plannin’ to if that’s what you’re asking. Seems like you and Mikky left me hell of a lot to do.” 

He then stepped aside, revealing a row of shot glasses filled with clear, iridescent liquid that shimmered with all the colors of a bubble’s sheen.

“Free booze, partner?” Boothill (of course) said, “Shucks, you shouldn’t have!”

Gallagher just grinned, still holding the unnamed, paper-bagged liquor bottle in his hand, “There ain’t nothing like a good toast for send off. ‘Specially here in Penacony.”

Caelus chuckled, “Why is that every time we meet, you’re just trying to get me drunk.”

“I’d be a piss poor bartender if I didn’t,” said Gallagher, tossing the empty bottle over his shoulder and off the high rise balcony. A slithering shadow sprung out between the marble columns, snapping it straight out of the air before it became a lethal piece of high velocity litter and taking it to Aeons knows where.

Firefly noticed Caelus tense. Just a little.

Gallagher waved them over, “Anyway, come on, help yourself.” 

Dan Heng took the immediate initiative in handing out innocuous little drinks while Welt picked up one and held it up to his glasses.

“I assume this isn’t just normal alcohol?” The older Trailblazer asked, swirling the liquid under his appraising eye.

“When is anything in the dream normal, Mr. Yang?” March asked, looking at her glass far more suspiciously.

Firefly had to agree, the liquid in her own glass reminding her a bit too much of soapy water for her tastes. It certainly didn’t smell very sweet.

“Dream syrup moonshine,” Gallagher explained, “Only one person on this planet knew how to make it, and he’s currently sittin’ in that chair over there.”

The trailblazer followed his gaze to the Watchmaker resting in his eternal sleep  and felt the weight of the liquor in all of their hands increase by several orders of magnitude.

“Well, enough jabberin’,” Gallagher said as he raised his own (notably larger) tumbler, “Let’s toast.”

Fittingly, Himeko stepped forward to start. No one questioned her.

“In the end, we still came full circle…”

One by one each of the trailblazers, gave a short toast to the Watchmaker. Himeko spoke a little on the nature of Trailblazing. Welt gave gratitude to the dream’s longwatch. Dan Heng and Caelus gave short, respectful tributes without much embellishment. March tried her best, though something seemed to constantly tug at her smile.

Luckily for the newest’ a Trailblazer’s natural aversion to public speaking, there seemed to be no expectation for Firefly herself to speak. As such, she quietly bowed out of her own toast in favor of Himeko attempting to explain the meaning of a life well lived to an earnestly upset March.

It was Caelus who raised his glass at the very end, though the way his golden eyes smiled in her direction made her question who the toast was really for.

“A toast to the Trailblaze.”

Several glasses were raised in tandem.

“A toast to the Trailblaze!”

Firefly put her glass to her lips, but refrained from actually letting any of the shimmering liquid into her mouth; a very deliberate effort to avoid another ‘incident.’

From the way March 7th immediately splattered her drink on the ground and the immediate burning sting against her own lips, it was the correct decision. 

“Ack! Too sweet!? Too strong!?” She shouted, stammering between wiping the remnant liquid off her lips and trying to decide how to adequately categorize the overwhelming sensation that invaded her tastebuds, “Too… sw-ong!?”

The range of expression on those that imbibed Mikhail’s alcoholic concoction varied from Himeko’s slight wince —something that Firefly already knew was somewhat of a historic event given she had tasted the navigator’s infamous coffee brew last breakfast and nearly passed out— to Caelus’ outright gag and Dan Heng’s muted cough. Even Acheron’s stoic brow lifted a few degrees in surprise.

Only Welt and Boothill fought through the throat searing moonshine and came out unscathed. Firefly chalked it up to experience.

Gallagher’s hooting, borderline barks of laughter at their expense rang across the dreamscape, only piping down when someone in their entourage managed to actually force their scarred vocal chords to speak.  

“It’s sweet.”

Acheron was staring at her empty glass with an almost unadulterated fondness coloring her violet eyes, as if the liquid had reached her a way that it hadn’t in any of the others.

Then, she turned to Gallagher and smiled.

“Thank you.”

Gallagher waved her off, motioning toward the resting Watchmaker, “Thank Mikky. He’d be glad his old brew is still having its… intended effect.”

Firefly knew that whatever the intended effect was probably extended far past its potency.

Gallagher busied himself handing out water he had stashed somewhere  (a sign that proved his intentions guilty from the get go) as the Penacony journey of the Astral Express came to a formal, if somewhat sputtering end.

“Y’know,” Caelus said, voice still a little hoarse from the moonshine, “I kinda think this is exactly how Mikhail would have wanted this to end.”

Firefly smiled. She hadn’t really interacted with bellboy Misha or knew a lot about the mysterious watchmaker in the first place, but her intuition told her that Caelus was probably was right.

“Caelus, can I speak with you?”

The couple turned to see Acheron approaching them.

Caelus glanced briefly at Firefly. Firefly resisted the urge to roll her eyes in favor of a quick, nigh impercetible nod.

Honestly, she was a little annoyed if he thought he ever needed permission from her.

“Yeah. Sure thing. What’s up?”

Caelus stepped away to indulge Acheron’s request, leaving Firefly the last trailblazer in audience to Penacony’s Watchmaker.

Firefly looked at her still full glass of liquor, sighed, then took a few steps until she was standing right in front of the man that had played a part, however unknowing, in orchestrating her new future.

She took a deep breath. Even with her years as a soldier, she still wasn’t very good at things like things.

“You probably don’t remember me, or know me for that matter, but… like Ms. Himeko said, I too started this journey looking for you. It would only be right, then, for my journey in Penacony to end here as well.”

She paused for a moment, scrutinizing every detail of his serene expression, if only to wonder if there would be a day she could like that, before continuing.

“I… just wanted —needed— to thank you,” she said softly, “Because without you, without Penacony, without your legacy… I wouldn’t be standing here as a trailblazer, with my trailblazer still at my side.”

Firefly knew it was a bit contrived, that there were certainly other circumstances that could have lead to this result. But she also knew that if anyone on Penacony or this side of the known universe deserved to hear something like this… it was the man in the wheelchair that waited an eternity for an Express to arrive in a Dream he would never truly to live to see.

“I know what it’s like to carry a legacy, I carry it for my comrades, my friends… for names that will never be remembered by the Empire they died for,” Firefly said, “It’s something I will always carry with me, much like you have for yours. In that way, we are very much alike.”

There was a half-formed tradition minted by the the dying throes of the Iron Calvary’s Fyreflies —a tradition for the fallen, in service for an Empire that never gave them one. 

In a war where usually all that remained of deceased Calvary were a few charred scraps and ashes, it was the few personal possessions of the departed cloned that would be honored with the flame they served. It was a very simple rite for those that were created to be expendable. Perhaps it was in some ways disrespectful for a duty that cost them their lives, but it was something and it was enough.

Firefly turned the glass of undrunken moonshine over into her cupped hand, dousing her bare skin with the shimmering liquid as she recalled the last time she had done something like this.

She briefly steeled herself as old memories came flushing against her heart, of a pair of red-framed glasses, yet still she continued. 

“Mikhail Char Legwork,” She whispered, “I am forever honored for the chance to be able to take up your legacy, to be able to stand side by side with these wonderful people that trailblaze their own paths to the future.”

Her fingers lit a spark between them.

“And I promise, by this flame, I will carry your dreams as far as these wings can fly.” 

The moonshine in her hand caught flame almost explosively, igniting into a beautiful plume of dreamscape blue — just slightly tinged with all the colors of the spectrum. She didn’t stem the flame, since that was the closest thing to sacrilege in a rite such as this. So instead she pivoted and stepped quickly to the gazebo’s edge, releasing the ephemeral pyre toward the glowing Grand Theater that shined as an eternal moon above them. 

All the trailblazers in the gazebo fell momentarily silent as they watched Firefly guide blue flame, flicking wisps fighting to reach into the very world beyond.

And then, as quick as it started, it ended.

Firefly watched the last licks of flame disappeared into Dreamflux’s eternal night, paying her last silent respects as she turned back to others.

Caelus nodded at her amidst the smiles directed at her from the other trailblaze. It was happy gesture, yet heavy with emotion born from a shared understanding about each other’s pasts.

Her somewhat abashed smile was interrupted by the buzzing of her phone. She fished it out of her pocketbook as everyone quietly returned to their own business.

E: Hello.  I hope you’re having nice night.

Firefly felt her heart drop a little bit.

It was message from Elio. 

Not with a hey, but with a hello. Directly from him. And a notable absence of flair, jokes at her expense, or cat emojis.

And that meant business, no matter how unfortunately timed.

F: Elio. What do you need?

The response was immediate. As expected from someone who knew what she was going to type before she did.

E: As you now know, some paths have diverged. Some paths have converged.

E: This script in Penacony, and its resultant outcome, was for your sake. But It would remiss for me not to inform you that this alteration to the grander script is not without complication.

Firefly quietly bit her lip.

F: Complication?

E: Yes.

E: The scripts I write are calibrated to reach our goal in the safest and most efficient manner. Any deviation from them has consequences, but they are not impossible to handle.

E: The last time I offered this as an option was under Kafka’s request to keep Caelus with the team longer.

Firefly realized what went unspoken.

Kafka bought Caelus more time. It gave him love, memories, connection. But it also gave him— no, them more pain when he was inevitably ripped away from them.

E: We are at a crossroads, Ms. Firefly.

E: Knowing this, I am asking which script you would like to take one final time.

E: I have already talked with the other Hunters, and they are all supportive of this new script even with the added hardships.

Another message came through as Firefly’s finger began moving.

E: Yes, even Caelus.

Firefly’s hand stilled. She hesitated answering the man that already knew her answer.

The script was there, it was always there, but when someone like Elio said there would be consequences… it wasn’t something someone could just ignore.

What consequences? Sure, Elio had not said their contracts and their promised outcomes were compromised, but what about everyone else?

Could she be that selfish? Could she put everyone at risk just so she could have a chance at the future she wanted?

Then she remembered the oath that she had sworn just the other day, and her hesitance ebbed away.

This was just another unbeaten path. Just another unknown that she would simply have to brave.

And what was she worried about? Her family, old and new, would be happy to brave it with her.

She wouldn’t be a very good trailblazer if she thought otherwise. 

Firefly absolved herself of doubt with one final breath, then typed her answer.

F: I want to grasp my future with my own two hands, on the path of a trailblazer.

As usual, the response was immediate.

E: Excellent! I was worried I had done all that prep work just for you to say no.

Firefly knew he didn’t really think that, but the return of Destiny’s Slave’s usual levity made her release a another breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

E: I will be in contact if a script arises that requires you.

E: Enjoy yourself tonight.

E: And remember to use protection.

E: You might need it ;3

“Hey, is that Eli—.”

Firefly let out a mortified squeal as she read those last messages the moment Caelus thought it was a great time to indulge his infuriating habit of looking over his shoulder.

Her surprised panic-addled brain decided there was only one proper recourse for this, and that was to throw her phone off the balcony.

So that’s what she did.

Caelus and Firefly silently watched for a whole ten seconds as the screen of her smartphone became just another flickering light in the city dreamscape stretched out below them.

“Oh, uh, sorry?” Caelus said, still squinting at the light that was supposedly her phone, “It’s the dream, it’ll come back, right?”

As Gallagher hollered that it was time for the crew to get moving for the party, Firefly found she very much didn’t mind if it didn’t.

She took his hand, pulled him away from the balcony, and smiled.

Her sunset eyes sparkled under moonlight.

“I don’t think I mind, Cae.”

They would walk into the next step into their lives. On this journey that they now well and truly shared.

And it would be with or without Destiny’s damn, nosy cat.

Chapter Text

There were many different ways Firefly figured they were going to be getting to the Radiant Feldspar.

A limo was not one of them, but in hindsight made a great deal of sense for their current situation.

The sleek, long dreamcar looked hilariously out of place parked in the middle of the dreary-in-comparison Dreamflux Reef.

“No way!” March gasped, pointing as the vehicle, “A limo?”

She then slowly turned to Gallagher, leaning toward him with diamond eyes bursting with the purest hope.

“Our… limo?”

Gallagher tsked, “Technically my limo, but I’m driving you to the Feldspar in it.”

That was apparently good enough for March as she starting cheering and taking rapid fire photos with her camera. Firefly heard a sigh tinged with fondness behind her; it sounded like Dan Heng.

“This very well might be the start of the best night of March’s life,” she heard Welt say with a chuckle.

Gallagher opened the passenger side door and gestured for them to embark, “Ladies first.”

Himeko was first to climb in, followed by Firefly and Caelus, then the rest of the trailblazers. March brought up the rear of the crew thanks to her impromptu photo session.

Then Boothill clambered in.

“What?” He muttered at their surprised looks, “Didn’t you notice the bowtie?”

Firefly did not, in fact, notice the small black bowtie around his neck, the only alteration to his usual cowboy attire barely noticeable against his black gunmetal body.

“The Charmony Festival Gala is likely to be filled with IPC Stonehearts and their associates,” Dan Heng explained calmly, “Are you sure you want to attend an event full of your sworn enemies?”

“That’s the fudgin’ point, partner,” Boothill said, “I was invited by that Robin lass… so while I can’t do nothin’ to them… they can’t do nothin to me.”

He reclined backwards on one of the plush cushioned chairs, kicking his leg up on one knee as his widening, smug smirk displayed every single one of his sharp teeth.

“And that sure hits the spot better than killin’ the fudgers.”

The Express collectively rolled their eyes, shook their heads, or both.

“As long as you don’t cause too much trouble,” Himeko said before craning her head toward the swordswoman that still stood idly outside the car door, “Are you coming, Ms. Acheron?”

The Emanator shook her head, “I have a prior engagement first... but I will be there before departure.”

“Are you sure?” Himeko asked, “The Feldspar is set to depart fairly soon.” 

Acheron just shrugged, “Swan told me to wait for her right here.”

Her eyes then wandered toward a nearby bench.

“Next to that bench, underneath that lamp post, approximately two feet away from that blue trashcan.”

Firefly watched as Caelus tried —and failed— to stifle a laugh at the hilariously deliberate instructions from the Memokeeper. 

She thought her boyfriend’s accounts of the Emanator’s wayward tendencies were hyperbole. Now she wasn’t so sure.

Either way, they bid temporary farewell to Acheron as Gallagher closed the door and circled around to the drivers seat. Soon enough, the vehicle gently pushed forward, flying more than driving off toward the Golden Hour above them.

Firefly pressed against the window, watching Dreamflux Reef fade into the cloudy sea beneath them as they ascended. Welt took upon himself to pour Himeko and Boothill a strong looking liqueur from a compartment in the spacious limo cabin.

“Y’know,” Caelus said beside her, “I was kinda expecting it to be bigger on the inside than it was on the outside.”

Firefly was about to say that it wasn’t like that TV series they watched what felt like an eternity ago, but then paused when she realized where they were.

“Is it bad that Penacony makes me relieved when something complies with the laws of physics?” she mused. 

It was Dan Heng who chuckled.

“I believe that makes you… normal,” he intoned as he declined a drink from the elder trailblazer.

Both Caelus and Firefly declined early libations as the car lapsed into a comfortable silence. Firefly leaned her head against Caelus’ shoulder, savoring the quiet before what was likely going to be a long, loud, but exciting night.

“Little bump coming up,” Gallagher announced from the front, “We’re crossing the threshold between hours.”

A shadow slithered past the window, momentarily obscuring the view as Sleepie enveloped the car. A second later, a wave of vertigo washed over them as up became down; their ascent from Dreamflux becoming a sudden descent onto the eternally bustling Golden Hour.

Firefly didn’t want to even think about why none of their drinks spilled or how none of them suddenly went flying out of their seats thanks to the shift in gravity. She just calibrated her brain to stop thinking about it.

As much as Firefly cherished the grand dream, Penacony was an experience best enjoyed at face value, after all.

Their car continued its steady descent, seamlessly joining one of the countless streams of flying vehicles crossing the Golden Hour sky. Soon enough, they were pulling up to what looked like a large dock with a gilded airship moored at port.

“There she is,” Gallagher said as their car slowed down, “The Radiant Feldspar.”

Firefly’s enthusiasm at seeing the mythical Penacony airship was somewhat dampened by what was laid out in front of it.

An honest-to-Aeons red carpet stood between them and their final destination, lined with reporters, cameras, paparazzi and other horrible things that were antithetical to multiple layers of her existence (at least without SAM).

“Red carpet! Red carpet!” March half-cheered, half-gasped. She crossed over to the other side of the car, tapping the window between her and the plush fabric with a youthful fervor as if it were a fishbowl that contained the dream of every girl her age, “Red carpet!”

Himeko peered out the tinted windows with a far more measured expression, “That is quite a showing.”

“Even my power to control public knowledge has limits,” Gallagher openly complained from up front, “Everyone on Penacony likes a good party. And everyone in Penacony likes to know who’s attending.”

He turned his head, grinning back into the cabin as the car rolled to a stop.

“Unfortunately for you, the Charmony Festival Gala is the biggest party in Penacony. And the heroes that saved It are probably one of the most high profile guests tonight.” 

Gallagher then pressed a button as the door of their vehicle slid open automatically. Firefly hid a curse under her breath at the sheer deluge of camera flashes and voices that poured into the now open car.

“I‘ll see you folks on the boat!” Gallagher said, his cheeky grin disappearing behind a pane of raising glass.

With a slight chuckle, Himeko tossed her red mane of hair once. Then she trailblazed a path straight onto the red carpet.

“It’s her! It’s the Navigator!!” Firefly heard someone shout, “It’s the Astral Express!”

The camera’s intensified in a way she didn’t think was possible as Himeko gave a polite, yet elegant wave as she strode toward the Radiant Feldspar.

Firefly leaned right and whisphered, “She gives Kafka a run for her money…”

Caelus leaned left and whispered back, “Yeah… but Himeko can’t cook.”

Firefly stifled a snort, “True.”

A few moments passed before the other elder trailblazer scooted toward the door.

“Best not keep our Navigator waiting,” Welt said, adjusting his suit’s tie as he stepped out into the limelight and summoned his cane with a twirl that was a bit too flashy to be strictly necessary. It incensed a new round of flashes and applause regardless.

“Ooh, it’s my tur—“

It was not, in fact, March’s turn, as the cybernetic cowboy among them literally leapt out of the car. Boothill mimicked fanning the hammer of the finger gun on his hip before flashing his signature toothy grin and tipping his hat.

Someone in the crowd swooned very, very loudly at the ranger’s crowd-pleaser. Firefly hoped they were alright.

March 7th was non-negotiably next, bursting out of the car with every ounce of her bubbly ‘girl-power’ as she went full-on idol mode. She waved wildly, snapping several photos between granting the watching cameras several practiced poses of her own.

Dan Heng quietly exited after the archer, gracing the crowd with only a brief nod as he chased down down the girl who was skipping down the red carpet like she was on cloud nine.

And then there were two. Hesitant sunset met crinkling gold.

“Ready?” Caelus said, “We better go before Ol’ Gally kicks us out.”

A muffled, gruff noise came from the front as the partition window lowered just a smidge, “Don’t call me that, kiddo.” 

Firefly took comfort in Caelus’ laugh as he stepped out.

As soon as he did, though, the roar reached such a deafening level that Firefly had to stifle green flames because she thought the Swarm was upon him.

“IT’S HIM! IT’S THE TRAILBLAZER!”

“HE’S HERE!”

“AIEEEEEE! THE GALACTIC BASEBALLER!”

That last squeal of adoration made Firefly pause in the car, her growing anxiety taking second fiddle to a new yet equally intrusive twinge of emotion.

The newest trailblazer could tell from Caelus’ posture alone he was smiling. Then, as if taking a page straight out of Welt’s playbook, he summoned his signature bat pointed downward before theatrically kicking the barrel to send it spinning upwards in his hands. It landed on his shoulder into what was probably the closest thing he had to a signature pose.

The effect was immediate and rancorous.

Usually Firefly would have been fond at her other’s usual level of ham, but for some reason she looked at his offered hand reaching toward her with a slightly nonplussed expression.

Did she feel just a little jealous? Probably, but she wasn’t going to admit or act on that.

Did she feel just a little annoyed he was probably putting up this front just to prevent her from feeling uncomfortable? Yes, absolutely. 

She had let it slide at the Scorchsand Auditions because she was more and less still in shock with how much he had changed on top of being on a tight schedule. Now, she had no convenient excuse.

Threats had to be neutralized. So she shoved down any lingering vestiges of stage-fright in favor of killing two birds with one very bold stone.

Her thoughts must have read on her sunset eyes, because Caelus’ head tilted slightly in confusion.

“Fly?”

Discombobulate. 

She reached up, fully stepping into her official debut as a Nameless while gently clasping around her boyfriend’s hand with just enough force to put him slightly off balance, but not visibly so.

Disarm.

Her other hand reached over to pull his bat-wielding arm off his shoulder and down to his side, prompting him to let it fade back into digital storage.

Demobilize. 

She then turned him the other way, hooked her elbow with his, and leaned in just enough toward his ear to cause every person watching them to hold their breaths.

Destroy.

“When did you become such a show-off?”

She really hoped Caelus couldn’t hear her thunderous heartbeat at such a maneuver, but she did appreciate his slightly widened expression as he tried to figure out whether she was playing with him or if he had actually made her mad. Still, Firefly parted from his expression as she turned to wave politely at renewed sea of flashes from the gathered audience.

“Is that the girl from the auditions?” 

“That’s such a pretty dress!”

“So she IS a Trailblazer!”

“Who is she!? Are they together!?”

Even though her reception was far more tepid than her other, Firefly still indulged in a slight hum of victory as the two started walking arm and arm toward the other trailblazers.

“Did Kafka teach you that?” She heard Caelus ask as he too waved to the crowd.

“Nope,” Firefly answered, “ Just brushing up on some improvisational CQC.”

Caelus laughed, “CQC, huh?”

Despite her impromptu showmanship, they maintained a brisk pace across the carpet until they rendezvoused with the other trailblazers behind a security line.

Firefly exhaled a quiet breath as soon as they were out of the paparazzi firing line, ignoring her racing heart in favor of blinking the sheer amount of spots out of her eyes.

“I’ll be damned,” Boothill said with a low whistle, “Maybe I should be hangin’ with you lot more often.” 

“That. Was. So. AWESOME!” March exclaimed, already thumbing through the photos she had taken on her camera.

“The only thing awesome about that is that I can still hear,” Dan Heng muttered, snapping his fingers beside his own ears to prove he still could.

“Seconding that,” Firefly added, earning a group chuckle for her input.

“Why, the party hasn’t even started yet,” Himeko said wryly.

Firefly hid her grimace, she didn’t need to be reminded.

The Crew plus one Galaxy Ranger followed a carpeted path lined with polite greeters toward to a boarding platform beneath the docked ship. Soon enough, they were ascending up an elevator toward tonight’s festivities. 

Firefly, at least, was pleasantly surprised when the doors pulled open to reveal a quiet lounge area with a cozy interior. She immediately noticed several faces she recognized standing among the two long couches, though more than one of them were of people she should probably be avoidi—

“Hey! Wait a sec. I know you!” 

A very measured sigh escaped Firefly’s lips as one of those two Bloodhound family members standing guard near the elevated suddenly swiveled toward them.

“You’re that stowaway girl!”

Caelus made a very belabored noise that sounded closer to a growl than a groan. It mirrored her own thoughts as he stepped forward as she tried not to let her displeasure show via the crawling teal veins lining her neck.

“Out of every Bloodhound in Penacony—“

Dan Heng and Welt briskly stepped between Caelus and the approaching law enforcement before the former Stellaron Hunter could draw his bat.

Welt’s glasses gleamed with faux politeness as he swiftly took over the situation with a light tap his cane. 

“Can we help you, officers?”

The other Bloodhound, the woman, pointed at Firefly.

“I don’t know how the hell you got past security, but that girl is a crimin—“

There was a metallic flick and suddenly the two officers were stumbling knee-deep in their own flame-casted shadows.

“Wha—“

“By the Watchmaker, I don’t know what type of brobdingnagian rock you two idiots have been hiding under…” Gallagher grumbled, walking over with his lighter lit, “But just what do you two think you’re doing accosting Penacony’s most honored guests?”

Firefly shoved aside the curious perplexity of how Gallagher had somehow arrived onto the ship before they did to instead just appreciate his timely intervention.

“S-Sir, we—!” the officer stammered before being cut off by another scowling grunt from the dream’s deputy.

“You rookies listen here, and listen well,” Gallagher said, “You have three minutes to catch up with current events. Then, if you so much as breathe in these fine folks’ direction in a way I don’t like, Sleepie here is going to introduce you two to what I like to call the Golden Hour Freefall.”

The two of them paled like a sheet as they fell a foot deeper into their own shadows.

“Do you understand?”

“Y-yes, sir!”

Sleepie let go as the lighter snapped shut, letting the two Bloodhounds scamper away with their tails between their legs.

Firefly took a bit of personal solace that Caelus was grinning at the sorry display, and decided not to resist her own growing smirk.

“Looks like I owe you another drink,” Gallagher said once they were out of earshot, “At this rate, those two are going to have me giving handouts for life.”

“I’m glad that resolved itself quickly,” Himeko said, “Are you alright, Firefly?”

“I’m fine,” Firefly assured, “Those two… well, they’re very persistent.”

Gallagher tsked.

“It’s the only reason they haven’t been fired,” he admitted begrudgingly, “Anyway, sour opener aside, welcome to the Radiant Feldspar.”

As if on cue, March remembered she was on a dream yacht and the camera flashes started rolling again.

“Oh, and blondie’s upstairs waitin’ for you,” Gallagher said to Boothill, “Forward bar.”

The cowboy nodded, then tipped his hat to the rest of the crew.

“Well, thank ya kindly for the ride, but I got a bit of business that needs tendin’ to. See ya up yonder, Expressfolk.”

With that the Galaxy Ranger left, making sure to skirt just close enough to the loitering IPC security detail to make them bristle in discomfort as he sauntered up the stairs to what must have been the upper decks.

The crew watched him disappear before the younger four of them turned back toward Himeko. The Astral Navigator returned their unspoken question with a shrug.

“What are you looking at me for? This is a party, go and have some fun!”

With that verbal dismissal, Firefly watched the last of March’s restraint visibly evaporate from her body as she bounded off toward the stairs while yelling something that vaguely resembled ‘yippee’ and ‘yacht.’

“March, slow down!” Dan Heng called after her, shaking his head in exasperation as he took off in pursuit.

Sunset met gold, though this time it was Firefly who extended her hand.

“Shall we?”

Caelus smiled, the rest of the tension from the near-miss confrontation bleeding from his frame as he took her hand and squeezed.

“Then… let’s go together, then.”

Firefly’s lips parted as her expression softened.

To anyone else, it was just an odd line, but to them —two Stellaron Hunters that had now both crossed the threshold into something new— it was a lot more than that.

It was a renewal of a promise made way back when she had first set these dreams into motion. A request to make up for lost time and everything in between.

Let’s go together, then. We’ll make it a real date.

Sunset eyes beamed with renewed excitement as she pulled them to their own little night of festivities.

“Yes. Let’s.”

And so the girl that could not dream took one more step into the dreams that were no longer dreams.

“Mr. Boothill. I’m glad you received my invitation.”

Boothill paused his journey toward the forward bar to turn in the direction of the feathery light voice that had greeted him. 

He tipped his hat toward the white-clad idol of Penacony, “Howdy there, Ms. Robin.”

Robin giggled, a slender finger tilting her golden halo to mirror his own gesture before speaking, “I hope you are enjoying the festivities?”

“I just got here, but this place is quite a sight to behold,” Boothill said, “I don’t get invited to these types of shindigs real often, so thanks for that.”

Robin smiled, “It’s only right for the heroes of Penacony to get the recognition they deserve.”

Boothill chuckled, “Deserve? Lady, I think I fired my gun a single time during this whole charade.” 

His grin sharpened, “You and I both know I ain’t no hero — you can be upfront with me.”

Robin’s bright smile didn’t falter, “That bullet still pierced through the shield of order. Please don’t sell yourself short Mr. Boothill. Truly.”

Then the edges of her lips fell. Just a little, but enough.

“But… I will admit your presence here helps in other ways, too.”

Boothill snorted, “So I’m here just sendin’ a message. I catch your drift.”

A very simple message that the Family could very well still invite who they wanted to their parties, IPC be damned.

“I’m sorry if that decision is—“

Boothill held up a mechanical hand.

“Ms. Robin, if you think I’m gonna have a problem standin’ around your multi-bazillion credit yacht while I get to drink free booze and serve as a… metaphorical middle finger to the IPC shirt-bags on your behalf, you don’t understand me as well as you think.”

Robin laughed, a far more forcefully genuine exhale that spoke of relief more than humor.

“Very well, I’m glad we can stand on the same page,” Robin conceded, “But for the record, I do mean what I said before.”

“Oh I don’t doubt that,” Boothill assured, tipping his hat one more time as started once more down the hall toward his intended destination, “Just sayin’, nothing wrong with a bit of multitasking. Have a nice night, Ms. Robin.”

Robin let him go with a polite nod. He took a few steps, but them paused. 

“Hey, Ms. Robin?”

The idol turned back, “Yes, Mr. Boothill?”

“I’m real sorry about how things turned out with your brother.”

The ever-present positivity that veneered Robin’s face cracked just enough to let the beginnings of a frown slip through.

“You don’t have say anything. I understand,” Boothill continued, for once letting a familiar tug of wistfulness bite at the ends of his words, “Family is family. And I would know.”

A deep sigh escaped her parted lips before they created a very different type of smile.

“I see,” she said quietly, “Thank you, Mr. Boothill.”

Boothill watched as the young halovian quietly excused herself down the hall. He let himself sigh a little static.

Then he drew his gun, pivoted around on one spurred boot, and pointed it at the empty space behind him.

“Listen here, partner, if you think my sensors haven’t noticed you snoopin’ around right under my nose…” He spat, clicking the safety off his magnum, “Well, I’m more than happy to add a second shot to my Penacony record.”

He had intended to just scare off whoever had decided to follow him for the past five or so minutes, so he was fairly surprised when a disembodied voice answered him.

“Whoa whoa whoa, no need to go aggro!”

A cloud of data particles coalesced into a holographic visage of a short girl with her hands up — though mockingly so.

“Five seconds to explain yourself.”

“Friend of Caelus and Firefly!”

The gun lowered a smidge.

“You one of those fudgin’ Hunters?”

The girl didn’t say anything. She didn’t even nod.

The gun raised again.

“You hearin’ me?”

The girl blinked, “I’m sorry say that again?”

“Are you one of those Hunters? Them Stellaron Hunters?”

The girl blinked again, “No no. Rewind. Did you… did you just unironically use the word fudge as a cuss?”

Boothill let out a whistle of hissing static as he contemplated shooting her right there and then, “Look, you don’t have to bring that up—“

The girl’s open hands suddenly flashed, holographic console blurring into existence at their fingertips. Suddenly Boothill couldn’t move.

“What the fudge—“ 

His vocalizer suddenly cut out as the short, now very clearly identified hacker girl shut it down.

Boothill cursed in his head while he still could. Of course the one thing he decided to point a gun at was a Punklordian

“Sorry,” the girl said gravely, “But for the sake of all the gamers out there, my own mental wellbeing, and just maybe the greater good… you are being de-cringified. Now hold still.”

Boothill had no idea what that meant, but it wasn’t like he could do much when he was literally at this girl’s merc—

“Aight. Done.”

Boothill cocked the hammer of his revolver as soon as he felt his limbs respond to neural feedback again.

“Alright you son of a bitch, what the fuck did you do—“

The gun pulled back in sudden vocal realization as his other hand went to his own throat.

“Fuck? Fuck!!” He repeated, each word a whole magnitude louder than the last, “Fuck!”

His guffaws of laughter grew and grew for each vulgarity he tested from his lexicon, completely ignoring the odd looks he received from other passerbys. Eventually, he paused mid verbal tirade to remember the smug-looking hacker who skyrocketed off of his ‘shit list’ to the very top of his ‘I’ll Actually Just Kill For You’ list.

“You… you fixed my synesthesia beacon?”

The hacker waved him off, “Don’t thank me. I only did it so you didn’t inflict a 1d6 of psychic damage on me every time you speak.” 

She then fizzled out of existence, not even letting the Galaxy Ranger ask what he could to repay such a great service.

Boothill just let out a huff of disbelief. He hated lettin’ a deed go unpaid, but he doubted this was the last time he’d run into the pipsqueak. 

Two familiar grey uniforms passed by him, a bit two quickly to be unintentional. It reminded him of his original goal. 

The Galaxy Ranger smirked. This was going to be one hell of a party indeed.

“Hey you, IPC shitbags! Where’s your blondie boss?!”

“Hey March, did you hear that?”

March looked up from her camera screen.

“What?”

Caelus turned back toward the ship.

“I thought… I heard cursing?”

March shrugged, “Probably just the wind. We are at the front of the ship, after all.”

Caelus figured she had a point.

The four trailblazers had rendezvoused at the front of the Radiant Feldspar for castoff. Dan Heng and Firefly were closer to the great eagle figurehead spreading its wings over the bow, watching pods of dream whales guide them out of port and over the Golden Hour beneath them as Caelus helped March clear some space on her camera’s already full memory card. 

“Hey, I have an idea,” March said, looking up at her camera, “For Firefly’s intro on the Astral Express’s socials.” 

Caelus quirked an eyebrow, “Shoot.”

“Have you and Firefly ever watched the Titanic?”

Golden eyes followed her prismatic gaze toward the great bronze eagle and easily boarded her train of thought.

“…Delete that photo that you took of us in that alleyway, and you have a deal.”

March’s thumb hovered over the delete button on the blackmail material she had apparently already fished out before he even asked.

Without another word, Caelus closed the distance between him and Firefly.

“C-Cae!” She yelped as his arms circled around her waist, “What are you doing!?”

“Sorry, Fly,” Caelus said as he started walking up the back of the eagle statue, “Doing some damage control.”

“D-Damage control!?” Firefly hollered over the growing wind whipping against her face as they got very, very close to the statue’s beaked edge, “There’s going to be a good amount of uncontrollable damage if you don’t put me down right now!”

“We just got to do the Titanic pose. Y’know, the romantic one?” he said in her ear, “And March makes that picture she took in the alley go away.”

Firefly immediately steadied herself; he knew she knew the stakes.

Besides, Caelus also knew the mecha pilot was probably more afraid of ruining her hair than of the sheer heights.

“Dan Heng!” March said as the couple got into position, “Give me a dragon boost!”

Dan Heng gave her an unamused deadpan, “My cloudhymn magic is not a tool to be used for hair-brained social media stunt—“

March just smiled sweetly. 

“If you do, you’re excused from the next three shopping trips!”

A glowing orb of Xianzhou magic was humming above his palm by the very second syllable of the word shopping as a jadewater dragon with a head just large enough for March to stand on swam into existence. It looked about as resigned as Dan Heng did.

“Make it quick,” the dragon scion said, pointedly ignoring how pleased the Express archer looked.

March gave him a cheeky thumbs up, hopped over the edge of the Radiant Feldspar, and went to work.

That was how Firefly made her somewhat bombastic first appearance on Astral Express’s social media page. And as much of an instant hit it became, both former Stellaron Hunters knew that somewhere far far away a black cat was probably laughing his ass off.

Topaz found herself staring at her frowning reflection in the dwindling soda at the bottom of the cup.

Given that the real negotiations had all but concluded, there was really only one reason why she was attending this party.

And that reason was currently avoiding her.

The first time she had failed to make contact with Caelus and/or his friends, she had just amounted it to chance that the silver-haired Stellaron Hunter (who was now apparently a trailblazer according to that recent social media post) had pulled him away to go see the world’s biggest Oak Cake roll in the dining room.

She didn’t really blame them. It really was just that big of a cake. And it was self-regenerating, too.

The second time she had Numby track them to the pool deck flash rave, but she had quickly lost sight of them when her own little trotter had gotten distracted by several other members of the space-warping species that were frolicking around the bubbly pool. She let her longtime partner have some well-deserved playtime, especially after what he went through a few days ago.

The Stoneheart thought she had finally cornered them the third time when the group was taking a break at one of the plush booths, but then Caelus had apparently spilled something and excused himself.

Topaz wasn’t going to stalk him to the restroom. She had standards damn it.

So instead, she quietly retreated to one of the many bars on the Radiant Feldspar, intent to refill the sugary soda that kept the lingering taste of gunmetal off her tongue.

“What do you want, Topaz?”

Topaz turned her head to see two golden eyes looking at her with a very neutral expression. Unlike his usual stoicism, however, his eyes were completely devoid of the wry energy she always counted on when dealing with him.

It immediately caught her off guard

“Oh. Hiya Caelus,” Topaz greeted easily, “Fancy meeting you her—“

“You’ve been following us all night,” he said flatly, “What do you want?”

Topaz sighed, this time more than happy to swallow her pride — however briefly — at his borderline blank expression.

“Just wanted to say sorry about that Stellaron Hunter stuff.”

Caelus’s expression remained… unchanged.

“That’s it?”

For once, Topaz questioned if it was a good idea to offer her reparation plan. Luckily (or unluckily) she didn’t get a chance to act on said action plan because Caelus spoke first.

“I’m going to level with you, Stoneheart,” Caelus said in way that unnerved her because of how dead calm it was, “I don’t know why you think you can have your cake and eat it, too.”

And then he just kept on talking.

“You keep saying you want to help people, and that the IPC is your way of doing so. I admit, I kinda believed you when you stepped away from the Belobog Debt Incident,” he said, “But then you tried to use my girlfriend as a bargaining chip and you didn’t seem too bothered about it.”

“Look, we didn’t have a cho—“

A laugh dryer than the Scorchsand Desert cut her off.

“Are you, one of the Ten Stonehearts, actually telling me, a Trailblazer of the Silver Rail, that you didn’t have a choice?”

Topaz cringed both internally and externally.

“I’d still like to believe you, you know,” Caelus said, already pulling away from the bar, “Just… please don’t bother us on the first night we’ve had to actually relax for once.”

Caelus then left without another word. Topaz watched him melt into the crowd as the bartender slid her a new soda. 

With a sigh, she took a sip and frowned.

It wasn’t quite sweet enough anymore.

Unbeknownst to Topaz, three others bar-goers had watched her plight take place from about four seats down.

“Huh,” Welt observed succinctly, “That was rather intense.”

“Are you really surprised, Welt?” Himeko asked, eyeing the third person who was sitting at the bar next to them, “Given recent developments, I’m actually quite proud.”

Jade of Credit shook her head.

“There’s no need for layered words. I’m not reporting anything to the IPC. Not right now.”

The senior Stoneheart idly swirled her glass of alcohol, momentarily pondering how easy it was for even her closest companions to fail to notice her if she simply took off her large hat.

“I’ll have to talk to Jelena after this. What happened was unfortunate, but ultimately will be another important lesson.”

The two trailblazers didn’t know which event or lesson she was referring to, so they figured she meant all of them.

“So,” Himeko said, returning to their prior conversation, “You were saying something about explaining yourself?”

Jade nodded, “Diamond wished for me to tell you that the actions taken by the IPC do not reflect the stance of the Stonehearts, and hopes you can forgive the consequences of our inter-corporate maneuvering.”

“Inter-corporate Maneuvering?” Welt questioned.

“The order to contain the Stellaron came directly from the IPC Board of Directors. The Strategic Investment Department and the Board don’t always see eye to eye, but —at the end of the day — we are regrettably still beholden to the Board. We can’t exactly ignore what they instruct us to do in a flagrant manner.”

Himeko frowned, “This sounds just like what Ms. Topaz said.”

“That’s because it is,” Jade said simply, “I’m simply glad that one of us was able to plan around it.”

Welt hummed in understanding, “Aventurine.”

“We couldn’t just tell the Board ‘no,’ because that wouldn’t mean much in the long run. So we showed them how their risk management would backfire in exactly the way it did,” Jade explained, “Make no mistake, I’m not apologizing for my actions, but I at least wanted you to see the bigger picture.”

The only thing she was truly sorry for was not anticipating the lengths the other Stellaron Hunters were willing to go for their own. It was not a mistake she would make again.

There was a moment of contemplative silence before Welt spoke.

“Do your colleagues know this?”

Jade shrugged, “I haven’t exactly been upfront with the whole breadth of the situation, but I suspect Aventurine knows or is at least suspecting. If only from my purposeful lack of awareness of his actions to circumvent my plan. Rest assured, however, that his effort to aid you was… genuine by his standards.”

Another pause. Then Himeko sighed.

“I hope you know that I drink twice as much coffee in the morning every time the IPC is gets involved with the Express’s daily affairs.”

Jade grinned like a serpent at Himeko’s eagle-eyed gaze.

“My, what a compliment coming from the Astral Express Navigator.”

Welt broke their mini-standoff by clearing his throat, “I hope you realize that the youngsters probably won’t forgive you that easily.”

“And it’s not like we’ve exactly forgiven you either,” Himeko pointed out, “My previous ultimatum still very much stands.”

Jade scoffed lightly.

“I don’t expect them to, which is why I’m discussing this with you and not them,” Jade said, “Though I will warn you that Topaz is the main case manager assigned to the Xianzhou War Dance. Will that be an issue?”

“I trust that the rest of the crew is mature enough to navigate the situation with grace,” Himeko said before nodding down the bar, “As we have just seen.”

“Fair enough,” Jade said, “And if you could let your other associates understand the context of the our interactions here in Penacony, that would be much appreciated.”

“The same applies to them as well?” Himeko asked, “That is surprising.”

“Indeed,” Jade said, “The Stonehearts prefer keeping as many avenues open as possible.”

Very briefly, Welt glanced in a direction past Jade. Almost as if he was looking at something only he could see.

“We’ll pass your message, Ms. Jade. But something tells me they already know.”

Jade answered with a raised eyebrow.

“Is that so? Interesting.”

It seemed like the Stellaron Hunter’s hacker was still lurking around after all. Not that it mattered anymore.

“Well, my role here is done,” Jade said, standing up from the table, “If there is anything else I can do for you, you know how to contact me.”

“Duly noted, Ms. Jade,” Himeko said politely, “Thank you for taking the time to share this information with us.”

Jade nodded, finishing her little detour tonight and leaving the Express leadership to enjoy the party.

She donned her wide brimmed hat again as she stepped from one realm to another.

Lady Bonajade still had plenty of her own personal business to collect on, after all.

Apparently, both Acheron and Black Swan did make it aboard the Radiant Feldspar in time.

That wasn’t too surprising, given Black Swan’s ability to be basically anywhere she wanted in the memetic dreamscape at anytime.

What was surprising to Firefly, though, was that the two women were apparently really really really good at dancing.

The former Stellaron Hunter sat enraptured by the spectacle in front of her — so much so that she didn’t even have room to feel inadequate.

Between seeing the Self-Annihilator at Dreamflux and now, Acheron had changed into an austere black suit. It contrasted, most likely intentionally, with the ethereal white-purple gossamer dress that Black Swan (White-Purple Swan?) now wore.

She said intentionally because the way the black-white duo strutted across the floor seemed way too coordinated, way too pedicured to be anything but. Apparently, the rest of the ballroom thought so too, as all the other dancers had given them such a wide berth that the light manager had dedicated a spotlight to them shortly after they began their performance.

It was a tango, or at least something like it from their sharp, almost seductively daring footwork the two exchanged. The dance only intensified until the unlikely pair embarked on a sweeping glide to and fro across the polished floor, arms locked in a near embrace as they rhythmically swayed as a purely dramatic unit.

Then they started spinning and, as if they could be any more enchanting than they already were, the memokeeper began accentuating their movements with sparkling wisps of starlight memoria.

There were no hushed whispers. Not even any surprised gasps. Just pure silence at the movement of passion currently ruling the dance floor.

Firefly felt someone sit down next to her. She found a glass of bright liquid being offered to her from the corner of her vision.

“Fruit punch for your thoughts?” offered Caelus.

She briefly tore her sunsets away from the dance to eye the glass, eventually taking a cautious sip to make sure it wasn’t spiked.

No alcohol. Never ever again.

“Do you think they can teach us?”       

“Black Swan maybe, if you make it worth her while. Not so sure about Acheron,” Caelus said, then nodded to something behind her, “Or you can ask him.”

Her head followed his gesture, finding a familiar figure stepping toward them. His usual heavy plate armor was replaced with a crisp white suit, but he was still recognizable from his luscious red hair alone.

“Greetings, friends from the Astral Express,” Argenti said, courtly as usual, “Pardon my intrusion, but I think I just overheard someone wishing to know more about one of the most sacred expressions of Beauty.”

Firefly couldn’t really think of a better person to explain the intricacies of dance than a Knight of Beauty, so she invited the chivalrous man to join their little audience of two.

This turned out to be the correct choice in almost every way possible.

It turns out the dance wasn’t just a tango, but somewhat of an interesting hybrid between a tango and a waltz. It was just such a fluid composition that it was hard to tell where the ochos and giros melted into chassé and whisks and vice versa.

Still, The Knight of Beauty expertly pointed out everything with a surprisingly concision given his usually florid demeanor. He gently explained every little detail, from the sharp flourishes of Black Swan’s boleos to the way Acheron directed their caminata into a disciplined natural spin. By the time the dance had ended — with the Emanator holding her partner nearly a foot off the floor against the slightly out-of-breath memokeeper’s impressively strong leg lock— Firefly wasn’t quite sure whether to join in the roaring applause, open her phone (which had only just recently returned to her pocket) to take pictures, or start recording notes. 

It was, without any exaggeration, a scene straight from a movie. All it was missing was firewo—

Oh. Nope. There they were. Bright sparkling light courtesy of Black Swan’s effervescent, stain-glass memoria. That woman really didn’t do things by the halves.

“Wow,” Caelus murmured, his brevity conveying surprise through his usual stoicism.

“Bravo! Bravo!” Bellowed the knight, his heavy claps easily standing out amongst the applause, “What a truly glorious tribute to Beauty!”

Argenti’s declaration must have been exceptionally loud, because the two women immediately noticed them as they rose from their bow. They gave a few polite waves to their audience, then started making their way toward them as other dancers began filtering back onto the floor.

“Hello, hello~” the memokeeper cooed with a lingering blush that suggested a little more than just exertion, “Did you little lovebirds enjoy the show?” 

Sunsets exchanged a brief glance with gold.

…Was Black Swan drunk? Could memetic entities even get drunk?

Actually, wait. They were in the dream. If her phone could magically appear in her pocket from Aeons-knows where it ended up, a being made of memoria could definitely get drunk.

“We had some dream syrup before we arrived,” Acheron answered their unspoken question, her ever-steady tone tinged with amusement as she reined in her apparent party date in with a gentle hand on her hip, “If I had known the outcome… I wouldn’t have let her drink that much.” 

Though Acheron said as much, the emanator’s lips curved slightly upward as the other woman grew a bit indignant. Actually, they had been that way since her dance number had ended.

“Oh, please. It wasn’t that much,” Black Swan countered just a little too fast, the normally demure woman finding precarious purchase (intentionally or otherwise, Firefly could never tell) against the slightly shorter woman’s shoulder,  “At least… I’m not like you and your peaches.~”

Acheron’s slight smile was broken with a quiet huff, “Please do not mention the peaches.”

There was a teasing lilt in the memokeeper’s eyes, a far cry from their usual gentle guidance.

“Did you know Acheron here likes peaches? I offered a bushel to her as a peace offering before we formed our little… alliance, but I didn’t expect for her to consume all ten in one sitting.” 

She then leaned in toward the other couple conspiratorially, “She even ate the one that had fallen on the stree—“

The memokeeper laughed airily as she was suddenly tugged by the waist.

“Alright. That’s enough ‘precious memories’ from you,” Acheron said flatly, guiding the woman away from the dance floor as she mumbled something about wasting food.

“Ah, not so fast, ” Black Swan said, slipping straight through the Emanator’s firm grip in an effortless flash of incorporeality, “Just one moment.”

She held out two hands, one in front of Firefly’s eyes and another in front of Caelus’s. Then she snapped.

Something happened, neither of them were sure what, but Black Swan offered no explanation as Acheron reeled her back toward the crowd.

“It won’t last forever, so be sure to make some good memories, little lovebirds!”

And then she disappeared (like, literally vanished in thin air), leaving the two trailblazers slightly speechless.

A much larger sigh escaped Acheron, “Not this again.” 

“Again?” Caelus wondered aloud.

“Swan enjoys hide and seek,” Acheron elaborated curtly before turning to Argenti, “Knight of Beauty, if I may...?”

Argenti chuckled heartily, “What a fine oppurtunity to appreciate the surroundings. I shall conquer the back of the ship if you venture toward the front.”

“Thank you,” said the Emanator, “And… be sure to check the paintings.”

On that cryptic footnote, the two seekers dispersed, leaving Firefly and Caelus alone to comprehend what had just occurred.

“Hey, Fly?”

Firefly cast her sunsets on a puzzled-looking Caelus.

“Do you… suddenly know how to dance?”

She quirked an eyebrow, “What do you mean do I know how to da—“

Firefly stopped mid-sentence as something strange surged through her. It was something she really couldn’t put to word, but the procedural knowledge of movements she had never done before suddenly bristled through all four of her limbs.

A rare, indulgent impulse momentarily overrode her usual sensibility as the girl kicked off her heels and dragged her boyfriend straight out of the chair and onto the dance floor.

“So how does this work?” Caelus said as they joined the growing current of couples.

“I don’t know, but...”

Firefly’s sunsets glittered with excitement as she smiled.

“Let’s dance, Caelus.”

His lips parted slightly, Firefly spotting the exact moment the Hunter’s well-worn catchphrase struck his expression with realization.

Then he smiled, matching the intensity of her own.

“Let’s dance, Firefly.”

It was an odd experience having to clumsily work backwards from muscle memory before they could actually start maneuvering with some measure of deliberateness. It probably didn’t look super graceful, but by the end of the second song Firefly could safely say they were dancing.

By the fourth, they were laughing more than dancing. Even Caelus’s usual expression had melted into an unrestrained, out-of-breath glow.

By the seventh, a slower number, they were dancing more with their lips than their legs.

And that was a type of dance they needed no memokeeper’s assistance for. 

“Well… that settles that.” 

Aventurine of Strategems was no slouch, not by how far you could throw him from here to Sigonia. But by the time the door to his private room turned makeshift office clicked shut for the seventh time this evening, the IPC’s gambling savant struggled not to slam his head against his desk.

His first task had been settling the inquiries of the Intelligensea Guild. Given that meeting had been with Dr. Ratio, it was as painless as it was quick and the good doctor briskly departed for more ‘productive pursuits’ within thirty minutes.

The second meeting was with Old Oti. It had taken a bit longer, but the jovial old man had certain operating concerns that Aventurine (or at least his business acumen side) believed were valid. He had that one wrapped within the hour.

The third was with the gunslinger Galaxy Ranger for their… shared goal. That lasted less than ten minutes.

The fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh were from business reps from across The Family and by the end of it Aventurine was actually wishing his Cornerstone was still broken. It was as if their sole goal was to waste his time with the most trivial bureaucracy that was quite frankly at least ten P-ranks below his station.

The whole thing had Jade’s venom-colored lipstick all over it, probably her little parting shot for him going behind their backs even if his strategic safety net was —at least as he suspected— tacitly allowed by the credit dealer herself.

But did she have to assign him this punitive gauntlet while Penacony was throwing the largest party in the last year right beneath him? On a luxury yacht with a bustling high stakes floor?

At the sudden thought that the party was probably half over by now, Aventurine’s head finally did slump against the desk. He still had several more appointments to at—

“Hey, Gacha Guy.”

Aventurine’s head creaked upwards, his searching magenta finding a short, silver haired girl he recognized straight off the IPC wanted posters sitting crisis-cross on a holographic stool in front of him.

“I’ve come to collect,” the Stellaron Hunter known as Silver Wolf said plainly, pushing a phone across the desk toward him screen up, “Y’know, for ressing your magical girl transformation rock.”

A speechless Aventurine stared numbly at the flashing gacha pull menu on the phone screen as his brain processed both the absurdity of the request and the string of words about his cornerstone that he’d just been violently assaulted with.

“The IPC does not negotiate with terroris—“

“Oh, come on, dude!” the short hacker protested, “We had a deal!”

“I don’t think I ever asked for you to repair the cornerstone,” Aventurine said flatly, “In fact, I remember you—“

Silver Wolf groaned, “Ok, ok, yeah. Whatever! But your fuckin’ profile says you pull for accounts, and I need your SSS tier luck!”

Aventurine inhaled, then exhaled. He really needed to change his profile’s flavor text.

“I’m literally begging you. The banner is ending tonight!” Silver Wolf pleaded with pressured words, clasping her hands above her bowed head, “You don’t even have to pay for anything. I just need you to press the button!”

Upon seeing one of the IPC’s most-wanted verbally prostrate herself at his feet (or fingertip, for this matter), Aventurine suddenly had an idea.

“…If you make it so that my next appointments never get here, I’ll do it.”

The sheer speed at which the girl’s head whipped up, adorned with a predatory grin, made him question the genuineness of her desperation. But an offer made was an offer that couldn’t be taken back.

“I thought you didn’t negotiate with terrorists,” Silver Wolf said as several holographic screens appeared at her fingers.

“I guess we’re business partners, then,” he said slyly, placing his own phone on the desk, “Three ten pulls for every cancellation notice I get. And, for just a little pro-bono incentive…”

He silently bet on his own luck as he pressed the button on the screen, then watched in silent satisfaction as the resulting animation showed he had indeed pulled something that looked of very high rarity.

A few moments later, a representative from the Nightingale Family messaged him saying they had to cancel due to ‘technical difficulties.’ Then, an Iris Family head expressed their regret as her auto-car had inexplicably broken down.

Twenty minutes later, Silver Wolf vanished back into the aether with a dozen SSR pulls across four different games. Meanwhile, Aventurine himself was walking out of his temporary office and down to the high roller floor with a self-assured smile and a now cleared out schedule  

Sometimes the best type of business was simple business.

Caelus let the soothing dreamscape breeze help soothe his sore muscles.

Firefly had danced with him for at least two hours before Dan Heng and March had finally found them and decided they needed a break. Unfortunately, Firefly had lost her heels somewhere on the chaotic dance floors, prompting her and March (mostly March) to launch a search for them, leaving him and Dan Heng with a few quiet moments to themselves on one of the many balconies lining the luxury yacht.

Golden eyes turned toward the clinking of ceramic on metal, finding a familiar porcelain bottle of baiju placed between the two of them.

“To think that your familiarity of this drink stems from him,” Dan Heng intoned quietly, “It’s curious how small this universe can be.”

By him, Dan Heng clearly meant the individual that now went by the name Blade. Regardless, he uncorked the offered drink, even if he wasn’t quite sure how to respond given how complicated the Quintet’s history was.

“I think… it was the first drink I’d ever had,” Caelus said as he perused through memories still veiled with the fog of time, “He shared it with me once after a rough script.” 

Dan Heng hummed unreadably, “So… that man is still capable of camaraderie.”

Caelus took a quiet pull from the burning liquid in the porcelain flask, then passed it to its owner.

“I guess you could call it camaraderie,” Caelus said as Dan Heng took a far more dignified sip than he did, “But I like to think he cared.”

A somewhat morose chuckle escaped the Astral Express’s data archivist.

“If he shared this with you, he certainly did,” Dan Heng said, turning the ornate bottle around in his hand before he corked it once more, “This is not what one would consider cheap swill on the Xianzhou Luofu.”

Caelus didn’t need to be told that. The very bottle of baijiu Dan Heng held had been gifted to them directly from the Arbiter General’s private stores. All because Caelus had said that he liked it when the Xianzhou’s leader had offered to him in his office to celebrate the end of the Stellaron Crisis.

Now, though, he wasn’t nearly naive enough to not realize that the souvenir was very much linked with Dan Heng’s past.

And, by extension, Blade’s.

“He used to be a blacksmith, right?” 

Dan Heng gaze turned silently inquisitive. Caelus shrugged.

“Wolfie and I got curious one night. Dug around some old history sites. Kafka stopped us before we could ask him personally.”

“Probably for your own safety,” Dan Heng chided, “He’s dangerous.”

By his lack of follow-up, Dan Heng probably realized the err in his logic saying that to the former Stellaron Hunter. Still, he didn’t amend his statement, instead sighing quietly.

“His name was Yingxing… and he was indeed a blacksmith,” Dan Heng said after a moment of silence, “He forged the spear Cloud-Piercer for my previous self, among other things…”

Dan Heng trailed off, his stony gaze falling upon the bottle one last time before it disappeared back into his suit-coat pocket.

“And perhaps there is more of him left than either he or I expected.”

Caelus couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing, so he decided not to push it.

“Y’know I still have your back, right?” Caelus said, “I’m not going to let Blade murder you in your sleep or something, even if he was my former teammate.”

Dan Heng’s quiet snort proved to Caelus that wasn’t what he was concerned about. Regardless, it seemed he wouldn’t be able to find out as he heard footsteps behind him.

“Hey, we found them!”

The two men turned around to see the girl’s approaching them. March looked cheery as usual, though Firefly looked a little less than pleased that her heels she wore had been recovered.

Caelus considered using March-7th-Begone but then realized Welt was probably nowhere in earshot. So he just simmered in mocking disapproval. 

“March, you’re ruining the bro-ment.”

“Well, now its a girl-ment,” March fired back, “C’mon, let’s go! Apparently Aventurine is clearing out the high roller floor right now and I needed pics yesterday!”

Dan Heng rolled his eyes and Caelus knew all was right in the world.

“You know the cowboy’s cheating right?”

Welt shook his head at the invisible voice in his ear.

“I do.”

Silver Wolf let out a digital huff, “Well, are you going to do something about it?”

“That’d be self-sabotage. He’s on my team,” Welt pointed out under his breath.

“Oh. Carry on, then, old timer.”

The lurking presence Welt had quickly associated with Silver Wolf’s proximity faded as he tuned back into the present discussion taking place above the billiards table.

“Why, the memokeeper had hidden herself in the grand depiction of the Creation of the Dream adorning the foyer area!”

The snap of pool cue punctuated Argenti’s words, propelling a white ball into one of its solid-colored brethren and sending it hurtling into a pocket with masterful precision.

A blue haired scholar scowled lightly. 

“And whom did she choose to imitate?” Dr. Ratio asked dryly, “The Watchmaker or Xipe?”

“The Triple-Faced Aeon of Harmony. In quite a stunning manner, as well.”

“Figured. She seemed like the attention-seeking sort,” Boothill muttered.

Argenti lined up another shot, though his attempt at a ricochet fell a few degrees short from delivering the last solid ball into a pocket.

For once, the the Knight of Beauty frowned, “Curses.”

Dr. Ratio frowned at his teammate’s mistake.

“It’s simple trigonometry,” Dr. Ratio chastised as Boothill stepped up to appraise the scattered layout on the pool table.

“Trigonometry yes, but with a healthy dose of Newtonian physics,” Welt pointed out in the Knight’s defense.

Dr. Ratio relented, “Fair, fair.”

“Back-right corner,” Boothill declared suddenly.

Welt raised an eyebrow. Argenti paused in the middle of chalking his cue. 

“But there is still—“

The knight’s observation was interrupted as Boothill drove his cue into the white ball in a blur of motion. The white ball hit the first striped ball, sinking it into the nearest pocket immediately, before ricocheting into the solid eight ball and sending into the back-right pocket as predicted.

The cowboy howled in victory, “Now that’s some sharp-shootin, fellas!”

Ratio’s scowl deepened at the hooting cowboy, “And you call others attention-seeking?”

Welt chuckled as Boothill waved the scholar off.

“Aw shucks, don’t get all them books in twist, partner,” Boothill said, “Wanna go again?”

“Of course,” Argenti answered as he fetched the pool rack, “Come, dear professor. Let us reset the game.”

A begrudging Ratio obliged, though he began an impromptu lecture on inertia, spin, and force vectors as he did so. 

Boothill sauntered over to his teammate.

“I just remembered,” Boothill said, “Dan Heng said you all were jumpin’ ship over to the Luofu tomorrow?”

“We are indeed,” Welt confirmed, “Also planning on attending the War Dance, Mr. Boothill?”

“Yes sirree. Heard the tournament over there is quite a thrill,” he said, “I was wonderin’ if you wouldn’t mind lettin’ little old me hitch a ride.”

Welt’s glasses glinted with amusement, “To get past the IPC security checks, I presume?”

Boothill’s hat dipped as he grinned, “Guilty as charged.”

“I see,” Welt said, “Well, how about in exchange for a ride to the Xianzhou Luofu…”

Welt leaned in, his eyes glowing a knowing shade of orange. 

“…You turn off that targeting module of yours.”

Boothill’s response at getting caught was simply another round of guffawing laughter.

“Well shit, sounds good to me,” Boothill said, the barely noticeable glow behind his lenses fading away, “Now let’s get goin’ before Beauty Boy starts singin’ again.”

Welt’s eyes crinkled in slight amusement as he rearmed himself with his pool cue, “I actually think Mr. Argenti has quite a talent for singing.”

Boothill just gave his head a morose shake.

“I’m afraid life’s a bit too short to be listenin’ to a man wax poetic about a potted plant for ten minutes, not matter how beautiful it is.”

Welt chuckled. He couldn’t argue with that.

In hindsight, Caelus had chosen a really bad table to play a few rounds of poker at.

Disregarding the fact that he thought that playing a game with Aventurine of Strategems was ever going to end in his favor, his other opponents were the demure Himeko, the stone-faced Dan Heng, and the stonier-faced Acheron. 

His only saving grace was that the slightly tipsy Black Swan floating in the air directly behind Acheron’s shoulder often gave away the Emanator’s hand with her rather transparent emotes.

“Ooo-hoo~hoo~”

Kinda like had she had done right then and there, if Acheron’s barely audible sigh was any indication.

“I fold,” declared Caelus, placing his absolutely abysmal hand on the table while staring forlornly at chips in the center at the table. The pot that was now unreachable to him.

As the other four players began their four minute stare off (at minumum), Firefly looked at the dwindling stack of chips that he had been lent at the start of the game.

“Cae, I think you’re losing,” his girlfriend supplied helpfully.

“Yes I am, ‘Fly,” he said, “Yes I am.”

“Good evening, everyone. I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

The stony glares between the table’s occupants briefly abated as a familiar Halovian approached their table.

“Miss Robin,” Himeko greeted easily, “Here to join for a round or two?”

Caelus noticed Firefly’s breathing stop, then suddenly resume at about pace multiplied by a magnitude of three. 

Right. She had never met the idol in person now that she thought about it.

“I unfortunately have to decline at the moment,” Robin said, turning instead to the real professional gambler sitting among them “I’m actually here to ask a favor from Mr. Aventurine.”

Aventurine took off the gold rimmed sunglasses that he had donned for the game, “And what can I do for you?”

“Ahem, so!” Robin began, clearly collecting her thoughts before she began to explain, “The singer from the Iris Family we had hired for my pre-show suddenly had to call out, Something about catastrophic car troubles.“

The easy grin on Aventurine’s face abruptly vanished, “Can’t you arrange for alternate transport?”

“Given the high security of this event, that is not possible at this time,” Robin admitted sheepishly, “However, Ms. Jade informed me you have some performance talent and that your evening schedule cleared up...”

Everyone at the table slowly turn to the IPC gambler. Caelus noticed the Sigonian’s right eye twitch once despite his still present weapons-grade poker face.

“…That bitch.”

Robin tilted her head innocently, “Mr. Aventurine?”

Aventurine quickly cleared his throat, “Nothing, nothing. What about that Knight of Beauty? I’m certain he can sing.”

Robin shook her head, “I’m afraid the present audience won’t be that receptive to an aria.”

“The Dreamjolt Hostelry Gang?”

“On paid leave.”

“The Past, Present, and Eternal Show?”

Robin glanced at Caelus. Caelus found something interesting on the wall to look at.

“Destroyed.”

“…Ms. Acheron?”

“I’ll kill you.”

Aventurine slumped backward into his seat, taking a deep breath and holding the burgeoning scream in his lungs. Caelus couldn’t tell if his persistent poker face made it funnier or sadder.

Robin thumbed her chin.

“If you help out, I’ll try and convince Mr. Gallagher to add another percent to the Penacony trade shares.”

The scream crawled out of the IPC rep’s chest as a painful, silent wheeze of deepest defeat.

“…Alright.”

Robin clasped her hands in gratitude toward the slightly exploited Stoneheart.

“Thank you so much!” Robin beamed like she hadn’t just held him at proverbial gunpoint with the economic equivalent of an intercontinental ballistic missile, “You have no idea how much you’re helping us out!”

“Right,” Aventurine said weakly, “How much time until curtain?”

“In about an hour,” Robin said, “Is there anything you need?”

Aventurine just shook his head, “A backup dancer.”

It was obviously just a joke, but it became a highly hazardous joke when Caelus heard the pealing laughter of a certain Memokeeper.

“Well, I know at least one person at this table who’s quite comfortable underneath a spotlight.”

Caelus suddenly found himself under the playful gaze of the woman who had literally already ruled the dance floor with the woman sitting in front of her a few hours ago. 

“Hey, don’t look at me. I don’t know how to—“

His words cut off mid sentence at the daring glint in Black Swan’s mirthful eyes .

Oh. Shit.

He did know how to dance.

Normally, Caelus would’ve been fine with such a suggestion, but he was a lot less enthused about the hooks of commiseration sinking into him courtesy of the gambler across the table. 

Then he realized that Firefly was also looking at him expectantly with the words ‘Do it for Ms. Robin!’ practically emblazoned with complete combustion in her sunset eyes.

“What do you say?” Aventurine said with a renewed grin, “Up for a little IPC-Trailblazer cooperation, Mr. Caelus?”

Upon finding no further reprieve from Acheron or Black Swan, Caelus turned to Himeko, only to find her smiling at him in a way that made even the Stellaron inside him weep.

“I think this might be a harmless opportunity to restrengthen our relationship with the IPC,” Himeko said lightly, “But only if you’re comfortable with it, of course.”

He knew Himeko’s sense of goodwill wouldn’t let Aventurine suffer alone, but did she really have to give him the equivalent of a parent giving their child a choice that really wasn’t a choice?

Caelus resigned himself to fate and submitted himself to the idol.

“Can you sign this napkin for my girlfriend, at least?”

Robin was more than happy to do so, then quickly departed with Himeko and Aventurine to hash out last minute details as Firefly fawned over the now-second-most precious thing that she owned.

It went without saying, however, that their poker game was very much over.

“Caelus.”

Caelus jumped a little in his seat; he had honestly forgotten Dan Heng was even there.

“Could’ve used your help there, buddy,” Caelus said.

“You seemed to have it well handled,” Dan Heng said, “That aside, do you know where March went?”

Caelus blinked, then quickly noticed the now empty seat beside Dan Heng.

“That’s… a great question.”

“I just… I feel like it’s not fair y’know?”

Gallagher passed a tissue to the sniffling March 7th sitting at the bar he was manning and quietly wondered how he ended up in a situation where he had to attend to the woes of the Astral Express archer.

Actually, scratch that. He knew exactly how he’d ended up in this situation.

An assistant bartender had whipped up an order of Bluesberry (Not Blueberry) Teary Tea — an incredibly potent negativity decongestant — and, in his infinite wisdom, forgot to verify that who had ordered it knew of its effects.

Thankfully she had only drunk around half of the non-alcoholic it before it was hastily confiscated, but it was still enough leave her bawling loud enough for him to get called over from halfway across the ship.

Anyway, this shouldn’t be too hard. He’d overheard the girl’s lingering sorrow over Mikhail’s demise back at his grave. This was nothing a little sage wisdom here and a little dry humor there could fi—

“Why does Caelus get to have all of his memories back by accident and all I get is weird, spooky memo-cult telling me my past is super forbidden or something.”

Nevermind, he wasn’t cut out for this.

“Well, Ms. Mar—“ 

“Are we even amnesi-besties anymore?” She lamented loudly, “Like, who am I going to bond with over my nonexistent past with now? Dan Heng? He just sits there and nods! Which, like, works sometimes. But not all the time, y’know?”

Gallagher in fact, did not know. He considered fishing out his phone and calling Himeko, but then that’d be openly admitting a member of her crew was accidentally served a drink spiked with liquid grief… and that probably wouldn’t go over to well for his health.

Maybe he should call Siobhan? Nah, she’d never let him live this down.

“And it’s not even a boring past. No, he’s a super mysterious Stellaron Hunter with a super beautiful girlfriend and apparently he kills people now?” March continued rambling on, “And… I know I should feel super happy for him for the way things turned out but…’

March blew loudly into her napkin. Gallagher offered her the rest of the tissue box.

“Why does it feel like… I’ve lost something?”

Gallagher made sure to think for at least three seconds before giving his answer.

“I think you’re being a bit stupid.”

March looked up at him with prismatic eyes that were now as unimpressed as they were teary.

“Wow. Gee. You really know how to comfort a girl.”

Gallagher shook his head.

“Your friend is not the same person he was a week ago, and I think you’ve already realized that,” the bartender said, “What I think you need to realize now is, well, that’s just life.”

March sniffled again, but let him continue.

“People change, and trust me… I’ve seen a lot of people change,” Gallagher said, “But that doesn’t mean anything between you two has changed, does it?”

“…Are you speaking in riddles again? I feel like you’re speaking riddles again.”

Gallagher sighed.

“I’m not a therapist, miss. I’m trying my damn best here,” he said, grabbing a glass tand a few ingredients if only to keep himself busy, “Look, what I’m saying is… if you expect something to change, it will. Even if it really hasn’t.”

He took her silence as a cue to continue.

“Caelus changed. He found a past, got a girlfriend, grew a spine, sure. But is that going to change the experiences he’s already shared with you?”

“…No, not really.”

Gallagher shrugged, “Then is there actually something to be worried about?”

March digested the words, trying to fit them into thoughts that wouldn’t just leave her alone until one conclusion stood out among the rest. 

Had she already proved herself wrong?

March had been a bit pushier about group activities the past few days, she could freely admit as much. But Caelus hadn’t pushed back. Neither had Firefly, for that matter. Dan Heng did a little, but that was par for course and she’d be more concerned if he didn’t.

Caelus still poked fun at her. Still watched movies with her. Still helped her pick out the best photos.

And Caelus was… still very much Caelus. Maybe a little more layered. Maybe not amnesiac anymore. But still her friend.

March sighed.

She had been looking for something that wasn’t there. And even if it was, maybe Gallagher was right.

Maybe it just really didn’t matter.

“Here.”

Gallagher pushed a new drink in front of her, sparkling cocktail that was as yellow as her other drink was blue.

“This is a Tip Top Tangerine Sunrise, or a Triple T,” Gallagher said, “You can take a few sips. It’ll help take the edge off of the other one.”

She eyed the (admittedly really refreshing looking) fruity concoction before eventually shaking her head.

“Thanks, Mr. Gallagher, but… I think I’m OK now.”

The bartender chuckled gruffly, “Suit yourself. It’s there if you need it.”

“Hey March!”

March swiveled her bar stool to see her friends approaching. Gallagher discreetly swept the pile of balled up tissues off the bar.

“You won’t believe what Caelus just got himself into,” Firefly said with a smile.

Caelus rolled his eyes, “You make it sound like I wanted to do a pre-show dance routine with an IPC Stoneheart.”

March’s eyes widened as she looked to Dan Heng like she usually did whenever when Caelus said something stupid. His lack of reaction meant that the outlandish statement (even by Caelus standards) was indeed true.

“Deets. Now.”

Even if they weren’t amnesia-besties anymore, that was alright.

She could definitely settle for bestie-besties.

Firefly shamelessly admitted that she was one of the many, many people that contributed to the very loud, high pitched squeal of adoration that erupted across the pool deck turned stage when the stage lights flicked on, punctuating Aventurine’s whistling intro to reveal both the Stoneheart himself but most importantly Caelus hitting a very… compelling pose.

“See,” she heard March say beside her between giggles, “Told you the rolled up sleeves would work.”

Oh it worked. So did the loose tie. And the Watchmaker’s hat that just accentuated his easygoing sharpness.

“I want you to show me your fantasy…”

Firefly decided Black Swan was officially forgiven for her earlier transgressions against her initial efforts here in Penacony solely for the scene that was currently playing out in front of her sunset eyes.

The sight of her boyfriend smoothly trading dance moves with the suave Stoneheart of Stratagems was making her feel… things. Things that compelled her to rapidly burn out the memory card of her phone with a growing avalanche of media to ensure the core memory she was currently absorbing into every cell of her bio-engineered body never burned out for however long she lived.

“Is that… Caelus?”

Only March turned to see Mr. Yang joining them. Firefly kept staring straight ahead, watching Caelus catch a spinning coin that Aventurine had flicked out of his last dance move in perfect sync. 

“Oh. Yeah!” March said, “He kinda got roped into it by Robin.”

“And Ms. Himeko,” Firefly added absently, sunset gaze still firmly entrenched on the golden show in front of her.

“Black Swan, too,” March said.

“…Interesting,” Welt said, adjusting his glasses to mitigate the stagelight glare.

Firefly spared a brief glance to the side out of attempt to avoid being rude. Maybe it was just the trick of the light, but Firefly swore he looked a little… haunted?

“Uh, Mr. Yang?” March asked, “Are you OK?”

“Ah,” he said with an uneasy chuckle, “I’m fine. Just reminiscing.” 

Firefly and March exchanged a brief, puzzled look.

“I’m going to see if Himeko needs any help,” Welt said, “I think those are her drones running the light show, after all.”

With that the gentleman of the Astral Express quietly departed, quietly murmuring what Firefly swore was something about ‘male idols’ and the ‘weight behind this power.’

Oh well. She had more important things to focus on.

“Oh my Aeons, did the Trailblazer just do a backflip?!”

Actually… make that super duper important things.

High atop the Feldspar, far above the view of anyone else aboard the ship, two girls watched the pre-concert unfold below.

“Huh. Gray Hair’s got some moves.”

The other person snorted.

“Usually he can’t dance for his life. Memokeeper buff did that to him.”

“Huh. That’s funny. Anyway, are you ready?”

A couple of holographic flashes flickered briefly and a screen appeared, though nothing bright enough to attract attention.

“Yep. I’ll port in all the toys on your mark. Does this look right?”

The other girl leaned in to inspect the annotated map of the Feldspar.

“Yep. Looks fantastic. And you do still know I’m charging you double for this, right? Spoiler policy, thanks to your cat boss.”

“Yeah, I know, I know. Let’s just get this show on the road.”

The other figure giggled, then disappeared in a glittering shower of sparks.

Silver Wolf closed her minimap and sighed before she too blinked out of existence.

The things she did for her friends.