Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"You've got lives in you. Hard to kill. Storm, bullets, sand and wind. Yet you still walk…for now."

F1…

F2…

Master Control Floor…

Stelle taps her foot against the floor of the elevator, staring at the clock of her phone with impatience. The life of the Nameless was usually one of adventure and fantastical experiences. As a crew member of the Astral Express, she didn't need to worry about supplies and chores when there are people to meet, worlds to explore and occasionally Stellarons to contain. But as Dan Heng - quoting a wise leader - once said, "The line between disorder and order is logistics." Still, this was just another Tuesday for her. She had finished most of her To-Do list and was going to do one more "daily". Today just so happens to be a day where Herta, the founder of the space station that she was currently in, called for her to run another test for her "Simulated Universe" for "purposes of research and the deeper understanding of Aeons". Though the experiment seems to have merit, the simulation feels more like a VR game. The only difference with the other VR games she'd played was that she was not limited to only floating hands and UI pockets.

The doors of Herta's office open with a whirr as the Trailblazer walks through, finding the genius' doll standing by the machine as usual. She takes a few steps forward and raises a hand in greeting, along with a smirk. "You called?"

"Of course, I did." Herta responded in a prim and snobby tone. "I wouldn't have contacted you if the Simulated Universe didn't require testing."

Stelle rolled her eyes. "Take the joy out of it, why don't you." She turned her eyes towards the machine. "What updates did it receive this time?"

"Minor patches here and there. We want to simulate running through the Aeons again. If you recall the Closed Beta we did solar cycles ago." The doll responded, tapping a few buttons from her tablet before the machine hummed to life. "I will be supervising and observing your progress - so proceed with the course as usual."

The girl popped her neck and rolled her shoulders as she stepped up the platform. "Alright, it shouldn't be too hard. Will I-"

"Yes, yes. Gods, you ask this almost every time. You'll receive your payment after." Herta interrupted her with a huff. Stelle would only give a cheeky grin before she connected to the Simulated Universe. Normally, she would be greeted with a menu on the tests to run in the form of different "worlds", but since this was a simulation constructed differently by Herta, the genius has full reign, and she'll just have to play along.

As she said, the simulation played out similarly to what she'd normally find - a segment for combat, revitalizing her in-game companions, fighting elite enemies and random encounters to get buffs. Stelle would feel each segment drag on after having done this so many times already, wondering if this was really a test to get the attention of the Simulated Aeons.

Thankfully, before she could claw out her eyes out of boredom, Herta called. "Here. Just past this combat encounter, we can try to simulate contacting the Aeons. Do your best."

Stelle nodded in response as she entered the next combat segment. She brought out her Simulated group: downloaded data of her comrades March 7th and Dan Heng, and the lead researcher of the space station, Asta. Upon seeing the virtual enemy, she raised her baseball bat over her shoulder and swung. The hit connected and the grunt stumbled backwards, commencing the fight.

The group stood before their opponents: Three beings in dark grey, pointy armor; one carrying a heavy cannon and two with arm blades. Intimidating, but Stelle has gained enough experience in fighting the Antimatter Legion to know that these are Voidrangers - the grunts of the grand army of Destruction. There was also a floating orb called a Baryon, acting as filler.

Since she attacked first, Stelle's squad gets the first turn. Ironic, a research virtual reality simulation with RPG game mechanics. She checked the HUD, checking the attack order. The same as before: Dan Heng, Asta, March and then herself. Not wasting any more time, she let the battle play out on its own as her simulated companions began their turns.

"Fighting is meaningless!"

"Who invited you?"

"Haha, here!"

When it came to her turn, she picked the Voidranger with the least amount of HP and swung her bat. The swing caught the two other enemies flanking the target, eliminating all three of them and ending the combat encounter in a flash. She sighed in relief, rushing towards the next event.

Stelle was soon greeted with a void, reminded of the first encounter with the Simulated Aeons during the First Closed Beta. Stelle wondered which one they were trying to contact. A cold feeling began to surround her as a being of mirrors began to manifest. She would recognize the Aeon to be Fuli, the Aeon of Remembrance.

"Okay, Fuli is here. What's next?" she muttered. As she stepped towards the Aeon, her call line with Herta suddenly distorted.

"Stelle! We have a situation! You're l-looking at the real thi-!" The line was cut out as the interference was too great.

"Hello? Herta? HERTA?!" She tried to respond, but all she was met with was static. Stelle turned towards the Aeon with wide eyes, now faced with the fact that somehow the actual Aeon of Remembrance has appeared before her.

Memories of her first Trailblazing expedition, the woman with the umbrella Kafka, of Nanook swarmed her mind as she stared at Fuli. Whatever words she wanted to say got caught up in her throat.

"Anomaly…" The Aeon spoke, its voice low and clear. "Remember…the Fifth…"

Stelle furrowed her brow. Anomaly? Was it the Stellaron again? And what does the Fifth mean?

"I don't understand…" Her voice began to lower to a murmur.

Fuli spoke again, but not in a voice of his own. "Baby, getting outplayed and getting cheated ain't the same thing." Stelle blinked. She has heard that voice before…but she didn't know where or who it belonged to.

"The Fifth…" The Aeon spoke in its enigmatic voice once more, before the Simulation around her began to crumble. "...of August..."

Her mind suddenly became bombarded with visions of memories not her own: a large man in bulky bronze armor, a scaly monster bigger than Svarog with horns and claws longer than her forearm, a floating machine with eyes on a screen…

Then bright light that forced her to cover her eyes from the sheer luminance, soon followed by an orange cloud shaped like a mushroom. Stelle looked at the gargantuan explosion in awe at the beauty of it all, yet her stomach dropped at the implication. What sort of power could've caused such destruction?

The heat that was released by this destructive display suddenly blasted towards her, hotter than any fire that was thrown at her since then. Her skin felt like they were on fire, burning off from muscle. Her head was suddenly drowning in excruciating pain as the immense amount of data from Fuli in the Simulation began to overload her brain. She would hear voices, briefly snapping out of her agonizing visions. "SHUT OFF THE MACHINE NOW!"

The last thing she would feel passing out on her back was the warm liquid running down from her nose…

Herta stared at the unconscious Trailblazer on the floor, before turning towards the other personnel that had helped shut off the Simulated Universe. "Call the medical unit." She ordered. One of them brought out their phone while the others propped her up against the wall. The genius pinched the bridge of her nose.

How was it even possible for an actual Aeon to manifest to a mortal, let alone Fuli? What could Stelle have possibly done to catch his attention?

The paramedics came not long after, along with the Lead Researcher Asta. "Madam Herta, we–" She looked to find blood and ichor on the floor, and Stelle slumped by the wall. "Oh gods…what happened here?"

"Fuli happened." Herta replied with a sigh. "She was somehow able to make contact with the real Aeon."

Stelle awoke with a groan, moving her hand to her head. Her mind was fuzzy after the fustercluck that happened minutes ago. Everything seemed to happen all at once to the point where her body couldn't just handle it anymore. Her blurred gaze began to clear as she looked down to see that she was in a hospital bed.

"Stelle?" The cheery voice of her friend, March 7th, came from her right as the young photographer looked over. Her small frown grew into a smile when their eyes met. "She's awake! How are you feeling?"

"I'm…fine." The silver-haired girl answered as she sat up, still holding her head. "It's like my mind's been blasted to all hell."

"It's a good thing you're still thinking straight then." March's smile fell a little. "What happened back there? I overheard from Herta and Asta that the machine short circuited on you…"

Stelle's gaze became unfocused as her mind worked back to the memories Fuli had given her. Beyond the period where she was given the Stellaron by Kafka, her whole life was blank to her. It's unclear if she even existed until she was given life by those Stellaron Hunters. To be given visions of a bygone life in a different world, and Fuli specifically gave it to her was-

"Hellooo? Space Station to Stelle?" March's voice cut through her train of thought, making the girl flinch. "H-Huh?"

"You're spacing out…" March's voice was soft. Stelle's eyes turned to see her expression: eyebrows slightly upward and her smile now gone. Her eyes speak of compassion for her dear friend. "Do you need a moment?"

"I…" She shook her head. "Can you stay with me for a moment? I don't want to be alone just yet." March gave a small smile and put her hand against hers. For a girl who surrounds herself with ice, her hands are warm.

The doors to the medical unit suddenly open, revealing Asta. She put a hand to her chest. "Oh, thank goodness you're awake." She walked towards them. "How are you feeling, Trailblazer?"

Stelle gave a nod. "Fine for the most part. I just have these splitting headaches at random after what happened…What happened?"

Asta looked hesitant for a split second before deciding to speak. "We…had to temporarily disable the Simulated Universe after your encounter with Fuli. The main framework was fried, but it can be repaired in a week or so. I can't say the same for the data banks…I'm shocked your body was able to withstand so much information."

"Well, a nosebleed is still a nosebleed." Stelle snarked. March on the other hand, took things differently.

"You met the real Aeon?!" She gasped. "They practically never show up at all!"

"Unless something is of interest to them." Asta deduced, her hand to her chin. "Stelle, when the Aeon appeared before you, what did he show you?"

The Trailblazer pondered for a moment. "I'm not sure. Everything happened all at once…I only got a few words from him. He said that I was an anomaly, and something about 'the Fifth of August.'" She withdrew from talking about the new memories for the time being, that was something Stelle had to figure out on her own.

March and Asta glanced at each other for a moment before March spoke. "How about we rest up first, we'll talk more about it in the Express, okay?" She looked towards Asta, who only gave her a gesture to come with her. The Trailblazer gave a thumbs up, allowing them to discuss about…whatever they're going to talk about. While they were talking, Stelle tried to go back to the memories in her head. Her eyes closed as she tried to visualize what these visions mean…

She would suddenly open her eyes a few seconds later, no memory of the time in between closing her eyes and now. Stelle yawned and blinked her heavy lids. "Shoot. Must've fallen asleep." She muttered to herself. She checked her phone to see a message from March, saying that she was already by the Express waiting for her. After thanking the nurse, she left the medical unit.

Wandering around the Space Station, she eventually found her way back into the Supply Floor where the Astral Express had docked for the time being. She would find the pink-haired girl standing by the docking bay, looking out into space.

"There you are!" She cried, rushing towards her. "How are you feeling now?"

"I just took a nap, really." Stelle sighed. "Are we leaving?" March gave a nod before pointing back to the train with her thumb. "The conductor just finished the resupply run. We're ready to leave when everyone's on board."

"Alright. By the way, what did you talk about with Asta earlier?" Stelle asked.

March twiddled her thumbs together. "It's about how you got the attention of Fuli. Something about it being different than what happened in Belobog. I've told you already, we can talk more on the Express with the others. Maybe they know what's going on with you."

Stelle's shoulders sagged. "Fine. I'd like to nap more on the Express…I can feel another headache coming." March nods without a word, helping the Trailblazer back onto the train.

Once they returned to the train, Himeko is there to greet them. "Welcome back, you two." She turns to Stelle with a slightly worried look. "Are you alright now? I've heard what happened back in Herta's office…"

"Mostly fine. I just keep getting headaches." Stelle waved the question away, holding her head. "I'll just crash back at my room to sleep it off. Night, y'all."

March quirked up an eyebrow. "But it's only afternoon…" But she got no answer, as Stelle walked back to the passenger car, passing by Dan Heng who had just entered the lounge area. When the door closed, the archivist looked at March and Himeko with confusion. "Did I miss anything?"

Himeko sighed. "Stelle had a…incident with Herta's Simulated Universe project. She needs some rest for now, before we can ask any more questions." She took a seat on a nearby couch. "While we wait, we can discuss about our next destination?"

March beamed at the idea. Dan Heng looked back towards the door to the passenger cabin, pondering for a moment before turning back to Himeko and nodding. "We shall…"

Little did they know, Stelle would get anything but rest…

"Look who's waking up."

Stelle would find herself in a dream. Similar to the ones she had during her expedition in Jarilo-VI. Only this time, it didn't seem to resonate with any Stellaron for this to happen. In fact, she was in a place she had never seen before. A desert hill at night, with the moon in front of her. A cold breeze blew through her as she looked down to see that she was wearing different clothing and straw gloves, and she was tied at the wrists with rope.

"Time to cash out."

"Will you get it over with?"

A man in a black and white checkered suit held up a finger to interrupt his associate next to him. "Maybe Khans kill people without looking them in the face." He then turns to the aforementioned man, presumably a Khan. "But I ain't a fink, dig?" The Khan seemed offended, before brushing off the insult. Stelle glanced to her sides, seeing more of these 'Khans' forming a U in front of her.

The suited man reached into his jacket, pulling out some kind of poker chip and brandishing it in front of her. "You've made your last delivery, kid. Sorry you got twisted up in this scene." Putting the chip back into his jacket pocket, he then pulled out a pistol decorated with intricate engravings and gold plating from the same place.

"From where you're kneeling, it must seem like an 18-carat run of bad luck." The man snarks with a smug smirk on his face. He aims the gun towards her. Stelle's eyes went wide, and her breaths became panicked as she stared at the barrel of the firearm, seeing the bullet tip. Was this how her previous life ended? Tied up like a criminal and executed?

"Truth is…"

She gulped.

"...The game was rigged from the start."

He pulled the trigger, and it all ended in a bright, resounding bang.

Stelle jerked up from her bed, gasping for air. She held her head and tried to calm down. It only left her with more questions than answers: Why was this only coming to her now? What's a Khan? Who was the man in the checkered suit? And that ending...

A sudden wave of nausea hits her, not taking in her own death well. Stelle stumbles to get out of bed and rushed out of her room, not caring if her feet get cold from walking in the passenger car barefoot. She needed to get to the bathroom quick; she'd rather not tick off Pom-Pom for making a mess. As if it couldn't get any worse, another splitting headache suddenly spiked in her head.

Reaching the end of the passenger cabin was a small, yet spacious bathroom enough for one person to use. Closing the door, a bit too hard behind her, she went straight to the toilet and let out her lunch. After coughing out what's left, she groaned. Curse this stupid side effect of Fuli's "gift" to her. She slowly went back up to her feet, flushed the toilet, and went to the sink to wash her face. The cool tap water seemed to soothe her for a moment, and she sighed. Reaching for the face towel, she wiped her face to dry herself. It seemed like just another terribly bad headache, but as she put down the face towel to look herself at the mirror, Stelle saw something that shouldn't be there.

Two scars appeared on her forehead - two clean holes just a few inches apart. Her mind called back to the "dream" she had seconds ago. How was this possible? There was no practical way for her, or anyone at all, to survive two shots to the head!

Stelle moved her bangs to the side to see it better, touching it with her hand. The sensation of her index fingers on her forehead was more than enough to confirm what was thought to be impossible.

"What the hell are you…" Stelle whispered towards her reflection in the mirror.

Soft knocking came from the door, making the Trailblazer turn. A muffled but recognizable voice came from the other side. It was Dan Heng, to her surprise. "Stelle? I heard vomiting. Do you need medication?"

She opened the door to the bathroom to see him standing there, arms at his side. "Uhm, I'm fine. Water will be fine." She answered.

He gave a nod. "Shall I notify Himeko about this?" He was surprised when Stelle waved her hand. "No, no, don't. I…just need water. I'll...tell her when I feel like it. What time is it by the way?"

Dan Heng checked his phone. "It's seven-thirty in the evening. We didn't want to wake you up, so we ate dinner ahead."

Stelle pouted, before sighing. "Man. What'd I miss?"

"…Buffalo wings."

Dang it. Those were her favorites too…

Somewhere in the vast universe, in a world decorated with neon lights and technology befitting a 'cyberpunk' world, three highly sought individuals sit idly in their apartment – awaiting orders from their leader.

A young woman in a short coat, crop top and shorts lounges on the couch, holding a gamepad in her hands and playing…whatever game she seems to have picked up recently. The screen can only be described as a "space-cowboy adventure in a dying world." A man sat across from the young woman, wearing a black and red oriental-style outfit and a shattered blade that was mended together in his hands, clearly bored. Lastly, an older woman stood by the doorway to the balcony, wearing a white dress shirt, black jacket, shorts and tights. She looks at her phone, looking at the message conversation with her leader, waiting for a response.

"Has Elio sent a new script yet? I was told there would be another along with our current one." The gruff voice of Blade sighed, tossing his blade into the air before catching it by the hilt effortlessly.

"Not yet apparently." Silver Wolf shrugged, continuing to focus on her game. A virtual roar sounded, followed by her video game character dying. She groaned. "Why does this game even have monsters that sneak up on you with this big of a profile, it's so stupid!"

"It's odd. He's usually punctual with this." Kafka added, before receiving the new message. She squinted, reading the name of the new script:

The Courier

Something felt wrong about this one, further evident with Elio's next message:

Elio: The Trailblazer's future suddenly diverged from what I expected.

Kafka raised an eyebrow. Fate has always been a predetermined path, no matter the choices one makes. There are choices that do happen that turn the path of destiny to a slight deviation, but never this severe. Nevertheless, she opened the script. She was met with more confusion as she looked at its contents.

Kafka: This has nothing to do at all with the current script.

Elio: It doesn't. That's my issue.

Kafka: So, will this conflict with the current plan?

Elio: It already has. You know your part. Good luck.

The Stellaron Hunter sighs before closing her phone. She turns to her comrades. "By now you've received your new scripts at this point." As if on cue, Silver Wolf and Blade look at their phones to see the scripts sent to them. Blade looked indifferent, while Silver Wolf just stared at the script before returning back at her gamepad.

"Improvising?" The swordsman looked at Kafka, almost uncertain.

The woman gave a nod. "We're diving deep into uncharted territory…and likely the past of our dear Trailblazer."

Chapter Text

Last night didn’t go particularly well for the Trailblazer. Aside from eating dinner late, she couldn’t even get a proper shut eye afterwards. By the time she was able to sleep without any fear of having more of those “memory nightmares,” it was half past five in the morning. So, when March 7th began doing roll calls for breakfast, as she does every other day, she was met with a groggy groan from a bundle of pillows. 

“Yoohoo, Stelle? You're later than usual. Come on, food's gonna go cold if you stay there.” She called out from the doorway. Her answer was another groan. 

Dan Heng noticed the commotion as he came out of his room. When he approached them, he put a hand on her shoulder. “March, let her be. It’s likely she didn’t get enough sleep after last night. There’s always more food for her when she gets up.” 

“Thank you!” Was her muffled response from under the covers, still not moving from her bed.

March gave a sigh and decided to back off. “Okay. I hope you get enough rest.” 

“I’ll let Himeko and Mr. Yang know.” Dan Heng assured her before he and March went off towards the dining car of the Express. 

With the Trailblazer alone in her bedroom, she could finally continue to sleep. She closed her eyes, waiting for the consciousness to slip. Then a minute became ten, ten minutes became 30, and she still hasn’t fallen asleep yet despite only having four hours of rest. With a slightly frustrated sigh, Stelle rolled out of her mattress and onto her feet. For some reason, her body felt excessively hot and stiff. It’s like she can’t seem to take a break from feeling sick after getting a shocking experience from the Simulated Universe being overloaded. She stretched to release any tension and ignored her body’s pains while she headed for her closet to get dressed. Her closet opened and she was greeted by rows of jackets, blouses, and skirts around a full body mirror. She had just taken off her shirt when she noticed something had changed once again. This time, it was her physique.

She has heard from moms talking to their kids that if they got enough sleep, they would grow taller – but in this case she had grown almost a full head from her previous height. Her shoulders had broadened a little and her torso and arms had gained muscle. Even her belly had noticeable abs. Was she always built like this? 

Stelle narrowed her eyes as her hand drifted from her shoulders down to her waist, discovering familiar marks around her torso: Scars, by the hundreds. And a surprisingly wide variety of them, ranging from bullet scars like the ones on her head to former lacerations, and even a long scar trailing across her chest – one too precise to be a bladed weapon. She turned to check her back and sure enough there were more of these battle scars, with some of these looking like claw marks.

‘Could my body be reverting back to what it used to be? I’ve never had these scars before…’ She thought as she continued dressing down to something lighter to wear. Stelle remembered her meeting with Kafka back in the Luofu after taking down Lord Ravager Phantylia, when they played their “truths and lies” game. She mentioned her ability of Spirit Whisper: being able to subdue certain effects like Blade’s mara as well as memory wiping - with just her voice and a key phrase. Perhaps Kafka did wipe her knowledge of the scars? But it doesn’t seem to affect physical bodies. Stelle can still remember every time she changed her clothes and there wasn’t a single time she saw any scars on her body, nor a time when she had grown a few more inches until now. Maybe this was a Remembrance thing, but Fuli was all about memories, not physical manifestations of past bodies. 

Stelle finished dressing up, settling with a black tank top and shorts. She added the light blue garter around her left thigh to complete her get-up. Feeling comfortable with her outfit, she left her room to join the Express crew at the dining car. The dining car, also known as the buffet car, was quite like the Parlor Car where most meetings take place except instead of couches it was a buffet that seemed to run on its own, as well as circular tables complete with chairs, plates, utensils, glasses and a vase of different flowers from different planets in the middle, most likely for guests who visit the Express. For now, only one table was occupied. 

“Good morning.” Dan Heng greets from his seat, eating his fried rice from a bowl. “Mr. Yang and Himeko said they’ll join us in a bit. I hope you slept well?”

“Got as much as I could.” Stelle answered with a shrug. She walked to the buffet table and grabbed a plate, greeted with swathes of meals and delicacies. She took her breakfast, gravitating towards waffles in maple syrup, bacon, and eggs. She took her seat between Dan Heng and March and began to eat with the rest of the crew. Though as she devoured her waffles, she glanced to see March staring at her while she ate her pancakes. 

“…What?” 

The pink haired girl blinked for a moment. “Did you get a growth spurt?”

“What do you mean? I’ve always been taller than you.” Stelle raised an eyebrow. 

“I know that.” March rolled her eyes, as she looked at the archivist and pointed towards the Trailblazer with her fork. “Notice anything weird?”

The two of them shared a confused look. Stelle raised both eyebrows while Dan Heng looked at her up and down and nodded. “Huh. I didn’t think I’d grow that taller.” Stelle commented. 

“No doubt from your encounter with Fuli.” Dan Heng deduced. “Which begs the question, why did They show up at all? Surely that would’ve gotten the Space Station riled up from the appearance.”

March nodded. “Oh definitely. Even Herta was even looking for you when you left.”

Stelle sighed, shaking her head. “No thanks. I’d like some time away from anything weird just to make sense with these memories. Long story short, I was approached by the Aeon for being an anomaly…whatever that meant. And I got overwhelmed with different memories all at once.” She continued eating her waffles, though the sweetness of the pastry felt numbed in her taste buds. 

The pink haired photographer ate another piece of her pancake as she thought. “What does the Aeon of Remembrance even consider an anomaly?”

“Something that shouldn’t be part of this universe?” Dan Heng asked. “Stelle, what exactly did you see in those memories?”

“I…” The Trailblazer faltered. “I don’t know. They were just flashes when I got them.” She tapped her finger against the table. “I did get one complete memory though, last night when Dan Heng found me in the bathroom.”

March 7th tilted her head. “Wait, Dan Heng didn’t tell me this. What was it about?”

“March, she didn’t say anything to me either.”

“As I was saying.” Stelle butted in. “The memory came up to me last night like a dream. It was about this guy in a checkered suit in the middle of the desert. He was taunting me about some poker chip, showing it off like he’d just won the lottery.” 

“What made you nauseous then?” March asked.

“...he shot me in the head.”

The peaceful quiet died down to deafening silence as the two of them began to register what she described, their eyes widening at every second.

“Wait, if that means… how can you still be alive?” March exclaimed. “If he shot you then you shouldn’t be walking right now! Maybe he missed?”

Stelle shook her head. “I wish I was joking, but I can prove it.” She moved her bangs from her face to reveal the scars on her forehead. She had never seen Dan Heng nor March in such disbelief before.

“That is…wow.” March gave a nervous laugh.

Another silence falls between them. She was starting to get fed up with it. “I think this is a perfect time to switch topics, don’t you agree?” Stelle commented to lighten the mood. The two nodded, even though both were still reeling from that can of worms. 

“...So, we’re going to Penacony next, right?”

“Indeed, we are.” A new voice entered as Himeko entered the dining car, turning to the Trailblazer. “Good morning. Are you feeling alright?” 

“I’m fine, just the occasional headaches.” Was her answer, waving her hand as if waving off the gravity of her situation. “When are we leaving?” 

“Well, we should be leaving soon. Pom-Pom said the supply run was finished, but some of the researchers wanted to talk to you about garnering the attention of Them.” The navigator responded. Seeing her groan in annoyance made Himeko chuckle. “Of course, they’ll have to wait when we’re finished with our vacation. If you need anything, just let us know.” 

After a sigh of relief, the three continued to eat their breakfast quietly. Himeko was about to take her seat, but the Trailblazer had already finished and left the table. With the time she had left before the jump to the next planet, she wanted to get some answers.

Officially, the Stellaron Hunters and the Nameless are sworn enemies. That was made abundantly clear with the uneasy reaction (and infamously hostile response from Himeko) with Kafka before and on the Xianzhou Luofu, even Stelle was put off by Blade’s stoic demeanor. But after meeting the Hunters themselves, most of the time they really didn’t mind Stelle. Heck, Silver Wolf is technically an online friend of hers. So, who better to ask about her past than the faction that has jump started her Trailblazer journey to begin with? Whipping out her phone, she sat down at one of the couches of the Parlor Car after changing into her usual outfit and began scrolling through her contacts to the Stellaron Hunters. Silver Wolf would definitely answer, but she may not have the answers she wanted. Blade…is out of the question, he probably never even used a phone before. Kafka was her best option, but it's possible that she’d just be vague or on a mission and won’t be able to answer her in time. 

“Worth a shot.” She muttered as she sent her message to Silver Wolf’s contact since Kafka never uses a contact to begin with. “Please don’t leave me on read…”

Stelle: Hey, is Kafka there? Something is up with me right now. I need your help.

To her surprise, her answer was almost immediate. Even better, it was the person she was looking for. 

“Silver Wolf”: It’s me. What troubles the mind? 

Stelle: I’ve gotten these weird memories of a past life. One I didn’t know about at all. Did you have anything to do with them?

“Silver Wolf”:  is typing…

“Silver Wolf”: No.

Stelle stared at the message. Was she actually serious? 

Stelle: Silver Wolf, you better not be trolling.

“Silver Wolf”: It’s still me, Stelle. Your guess about your past life is as good as mine.

Stelle: …

Stelle: Do you have anything at all?

There was an uncomfortable pause in the conversation. Stelle was starting to think if this was a bad idea and she had just wasted Kafka’s time. Fortunately, a reply came.

“Silver Wolf”: Normally I can’t tell you yet, as all will be revealed in time. However, the sudden resurgence of your memories was something even Elio didn’t expect so I’ll let you in on what I know.

“Silver Wolf”: I can start with how we found you.

She narrowed her eyes; this was about to get interesting. 

Stelle: Go on.

“Silver Wolf”: When you were given to us by Elio, you were…difficult to deal with. 

“Silver Wolf:” The first thing you did when you woke up was stab Blade’s eye with a pencil, concussed me and nearly took Wolfie’s head off with my sword. I needed to restrain you to stop further injuries. 

Silver Wolf: i can vouch, called blade a pirate for a week -silver wolf

The Trailblazer gulped. She was no stranger to fighting in self-defense and has beaten her fair share of bad guys, but she was never this vicious. Whatever world she came from must’ve been so harsh to make her act that way…or was her past even pure in the first place?

Stelle: Difficult is an understatement.

Stelle: I didn’t see any scars on Blade’s eyes though?

“Silver Wolf”: Don’t worry about Bladie, he recovered not too long after. He did say you must’ve had a lot of experience in killing for you to do something like that. Not a good first impression, I suppose. But we eventually got along, and the rest is history. 

And there it is again. Stelle’s free hand began to fidget at the thought of her being a killer. She bit her lip; should she ask for more?

Stelle: Did I say anything about me?

“Silver Wolf”: Unfortunately, no. It seems you only had muscle memory with you. Every question we asked, you didn’t remember. As far as I’m concerned, those memories came up on their own when the Aeon did its little magic trick.

“Silver Wolf”: Enjoy your little rest day.

Silver Wolf: Kafka left to get ready for another mission, talk to you soon

She sighed as she turned off her phone, putting her head in her hands. Did she get answers? Not quite. Were those answers ones she wanted? No, absolutely not. Stelle did not like the conclusion everything was pointing to: she used to be a murderer who lived in the middle of the desert, that had to be put down by some rich guy with a golden gun - and somehow ended up with the Stellaron Hunters, then the Astral Express. Yet, despite the bleak past she seemed to have, her curiosity was slowly winning her over. Surely, there has to be more in the gaps between those events.

Stelle looked up from her hands to see everyone slowly gathering at the Parlor Car. It seemed like the time to move to the next Express stop was here. ‘Might as well get on with the meeting.’ She thought as she walked over to them. 

“Good morning, Stelle. Did you sleep well?” Mr. Yang greeted when she came over. 

“I wish I did. I'd like Himeko's coffee after this.” Stelle answered, much to the surprise of Welt and Himeko. Dan Heng and March did notice the sudden change of taste, but weren't too surprised. Since her previous life was merging with her current one, anything could change with her.

“Oh? Since when did you find my blend interesting?” Himeko inquired. 

“I need it strong. With everything going on.”

Himeko and Welt shared a look, before she nodded. “I see. Well, I can fix you some after our crew meeting.”

Soon after Pom-Pom arrived at the group and began to explain what would happen at Penacony; the Family inviting them as guests, the excessive amounts of memoria (which was basically a substance that holds human consciousness and memories, according to the archives), and looking out for any other Nameless there. After the meeting, everyone began to settle down and Stelle went back to her seat at the couches. The coffee Himeko gave her was black and bitter, just the way the navigator liked it. Stelle found strange comfort in the bitter drink, leaving her troubled mind to a calm state. While the thought of vacation at Penacony seems fun, she was more concerned about the memoria. More things to mess with her head is the last thing she wanted, so she hoped it wouldn't leave her mind broken. Stelle didn't even realize she finished the coffee so soon.

“The train is about to jump! Please proceed to your places and hold on!” Pom-Pom announced over the intercom. Stelle closed her eyes, letting the countdown drop.

“3!”

“2!”

“1!”

“STELLE! WHERE ARE YOU?!” The Trailblazer rapidly opened her eyes, hearing her name spoken all of a sudden, before she was greeted with another set of memory flashes. Once again, her mind was overwhelmed as the memories resurfaced. She screamed in pain at the splitting headache, before passing out. 

“Where are we?”

“I…think this is the Hub.”

Two young fraternal twins walked in the dark streets after getting off from a caravan that they got on all the way in Reddington. Both kids had silvery gray hair for their age, and both had amber eyes. The girl carried a small wooden baseball bat with her, and the boy stayed close to his sister.

“Sis, where do we go now?” The boy asked. 

“I'm still thinking, Caleb.” The girl gripped her weapon as they walked down the streets, avoiding drug junkies and gangsters that watched them pass by. The blood had long dried into the wood, permanently leaving a scarlet shade on the baseball bat. After settling down in an alleyway lit only by one street lamp, they sat down by the wall. The girl opened her small knapsack to reveal some bread and brahmin meat that was made into jerky. She offered one to her brother Caleb. “Here.”

“Thank you.” He muttered, taking a bite while the girl ate her own food. 

“Stelle?”

“Yeah?”

“Is Mama…?”

The young Stelle stayed silent for a brief moment. She fought back tears and gripped her baseball bat tightly as she found the courage to speak. “I'm sorry, Caleb. Dad didn't stop...”

The boy stared at the ground as he ate his jerky. “...Dad is a piece of shit.”

Stelle turned her head in an instant. “Hey, what'd I say about bad words? Don't say that.” She scolded, yet she couldn't bring herself to enforce it like she would. 

“Does it even matter? It's not like Mama is here anyway.” Caleb retorted. “And I hated it when Dad called me that. He's a piece of shit!” He kicked a tin can away, before realizing what he said and sighed. “I-I’m sorry, I’ll shut up now.

“No, it's fine…I hate Dad too.” Stelle responded with a small smile. “He's far away now, he can't hurt us anymore.” 

Caleb tried to smile as well, but his grin turned into a grimace as tears fell down his cheeks. “Mama…” This time Stelle didn't say another word as she brought him into an embrace, allowing the both of them to finally mourn since they left their terrible home.

 The Trailblazer awoke with a gasp. The headache had ceased but her cheeks felt wet. She sniffed, wiping her eyes as she got up from the couch. It felt like a dream, but Stelle knew it was too real to be one. She didn't even know she had parents, let alone a twin brother.

‘Caleb.’ She muttered his name. ‘I hope he lived a good life.’ 

Focusing back into her surroundings, she found herself in what looked to be a hotel lobby, with a hallway going down. Was this a part of Penacony? She continued to look around, surprised to see no one showing up…until she heard a voice, one that made her shudder.

“Oh finally, I didn't have to wait a whole week.”

She turned to see the man in her memory, leaning against the wall and lighting a cigarette in his mouth. Now that she had a better look at him, he was taller by about a foot than her. And he still wore that damn checkered suit. Stelle clenched her fists. “ You. ”

“That's me, baby.” The gangster answered in a smug tone, putting away his lighter into his coat pocket. He looked around the lobby, whistling. “Love what you’ve done to the place. I must admit this might give the Tops a run for its money.” 

“What are you doing here?” She demanded.

The man chuckled, puffing a cloud of smoke before speaking. “Shouldn't it be obvious?” Noticing that she did not understand what he was talking about, he suddenly started snapping his fingers at her face as if she was in a trance. “Hello? Benny, head honcho of the Chairmen? The guy you walked across the goddamn desert to track me down?”

Stelle swatted his hand away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Benny curled up an eyebrow, before he sneered. “Guess I did blow out your brains there. You know, even back then you weren’t very bright.”

“Keep talking, I can show you how far your head can fly from your neck.” She growled, which made Benny laugh. 

“There’s that bravado you were so famous about.” He took another puff. “Alright, I’ll bite. I’m not here for no reason, something tells me you need me for help, dig?”

“You don’t even know me.” Stelle retorted. “You shot me in the head and walked away because of some dumb poker chip?” 

“Ah, ah.” He wagged his finger like scolding a child. “That ‘dumb poker chip’ was the whole reason you are who you are now. And it was nothing personal, baby. That’s how we played the game, you just got dealt the wrong hand.” Benny dropped the cigarette after one final puff and stepped on it to extinguish the embers. “Yet, by some divine-intervention-magical bullshit you survived. And shot me right between the eyes to finish a job.” 

That seemed to snap Stelle out of her rage for a moment, her clenching of her fists became tighter at the thought. “I’m not a killer.” 

“Keep telling yourself that.” He rolled his eyes. “Look baby, you’ve been wanting some answers about yourself and I got some. And if you knew anything about business with the cats in Vegas, the deal goes both ways, dig?” He turns to one of the walls in the hallway, which manifests a door from thin air. Benny opens the door, revealing light to be on the other side. “Just step on in.”

The Trailblazer furrowed her eyebrows. Here was the man that murdered her in the middle of the desert, claiming that he knew who she used to be before she got on the Express. Everything about him was off: his voice, the way he talked and his demeanor. He looked and acted like a mafia boss, and if he is to be believed he might as well be. But he had a point, she wanted answers. Stelle just wished she didn’t have to get answers from Benny of all people.

“How can I trust you?” She narrowed her eyes. The gangster laughed. 

“Baby, are you kidding? You of all people should know not to trust me.” He shook his head. “I’m playing no tricks here. Last time I did that, I got a third eye, remember?” He pointed a finger gun towards the bridge of his nose and mimicked pulling the trigger. “So are you in or are you out?”

Some time later, a purple haired woman with a long sword wandered into the Reverie Dreamscape to a place where she thought someone might show up, only to find no one there. Acheron blinked in confusion before continuing her walk, looking for an exit…

[...]

The Trailblazer was greeted with a dark room with a single light hanging overhead. The light shone down on a wooden table that was forty-three inches in diameter with a green top. On top sat playing cards, an ashtray, alongside a bottle of some kind of alcohol with two shot glasses. Benny took a seat on one end of the table, while Stelle sat down on the other. She recognized the set up to be some kind of gambling table.

“Telling you the answers straight is boring, so we’re gonna play a game.” Benny spoke, opening the bottle and taking a whiff. Whiskey. “Hm. Just what I needed.” He poured himself a glass before pouring one for Stelle. 

Her nose wrinkled as she raised her hand. “Oh, no thanks, I’m not a drinker.”

“Now that’s just rude.” He shook his head in disappointment. “If a man offers you a drink in Vegas, you take it as respect.” Benny takes a sip. “Of course, that’s just a thing us Chairmen do to keep our style. And besides, you’ll end up drinking anyway. All people do.”

As the gangster shuffled the cards as the dealer, Stelle stared down at the whiskey. What kind of person was her past self like to drink herself away like that? She glanced towards Benny, who was still doing shuffling tricks with the cards. Fighting the urge to drink it out of spite, she placed the glass down. “Okay, Benny, what’s this game you want me to play?”

“Just a simple game of poker.” He brandished a few of the cards in his hands with a smirk before giving Stelle her hand to play. “If you still remember how to play.”

Stelle’s awkward silence was enough for an answer for Benny, and he sighed. “Goddammit…”

After a rather long explanation of the game and the poker hands, the Trailblazer finally caught on after a few practice rounds. The gangster chuckled as he finished his glass and was pouring another. “You know, I thought I’ve seen bad players before - but never one this incompetent. At least you learn fast.” 

“Shut up.” She rolled her eyes. “So, what’s next?”

Benny reshuffled the cards, and gave Stelle a new hand. “Instead of money, we use information instead, dig? If you win a hand, I’ll give you your answers. And if I win…” He places his own hand face down on the table. “You lose a life. You only get three, and if all three get used up? Well, you’ll just have to figure out another way.”

Her eye twitched. All she wanted was just straightforward answers and now this prick decided to make it a game. At least Kafka made sure Stelle got answers. “...fine. I’ll play.” She took her cards and saw the hand. The playing cards had suddenly changed, instead showing people’s faces and their names instead of the regular icons. 

She showed her hand. “Flush.” She said, a full suite of hearts. Benny put his tongue to his cheek and showed his hand. “Two Pair, Jacks. Alright, lay it on me kid.”

“Who am I and where did I come from?”

“One at a time, kid. You are Courier Six. The meanest, most unkillable bastard to ever walk the Mojave desert.” He sipped his whiskey. “I don’t know where you came from, but I heard you were NCR folk - bunch of thieves they are.”

“Wait, what’s the-”

“Stop right there, baby. Don’t forget our deal.” Benny smirked as he reshuffled the deck. Stelle bit her lip as her hand was given. She had to play her cards right, and ask the right questions if she wanted the answers. She tried to read Benny if he had anything good in his hand, but his face was stoic as ever. 

She took a deep breath and showed her hand. “High card, Queen.” 

Benny finally cracked a smirk and showed his hand. “Lucky. High card, Queen. We keep drawing.”  

The next round wasn’t so lucky for Stelle, as she revealed to have a two-pair of tens only to be trumped by Benny with a straight. One life lost, but they kept going. The next round, while Stelle was asking to swap two cards from her hand, she suddenly asked. “Why are you helping me?” 

“What?” 

“Why are you helping me?”

“You didn’t win last round, did you?”

“This isn’t about my past right now.”

  He paused for a moment, before he finished his second glass of whiskey. “All this? It’s just a figment of your imagination, baby. Except maybe those memories of yours.” He handed her the next hand before he took his own.

“Then what are you?”

He only gives a knowing smile, then puts down his hand. “Straight.”

“Full house.” Stelle puts down her hand. “Well?”

“A memory.” He winked. “You didn't have to waste that question.”

“I still got answers.” They got to their game and drew their cards. After redrawing cards, they both placed down their hands.

“Three of a kind, sevens.”

“Straight Flush.” She had a smug smile on her face.

“Bullshit!” 

“Hey, you shuffled them.”

Benny sighed. “Whatever. You got this cat, baby. So?”

She pondered for a moment before asking. “...how many people have I killed?”

“Hard to say.” Benny lit a cigarette in his mouth. “Where do I start? You’ve killed small-time goons, raiders, Legion, even some NCR that got in your way. Could be over the hundred mark, yeah?.”

Stelle’s stomach dropped. She had hoped she was wrong, but even near-death couldn’t stop her from taking lives. “oh.”

“Don’t feel too bad about it. Everyone’s killed to survive where we came from.” Benny puffed out a cloud before he continued shuffling the deck. “Life’s a cruel game we gotta play.”

“But it doesn’t take away the fact that person had their own dreams and their own family.” Stelle tried to argue, but the gangster interrupted her. 

“Listen, kid. If you think a raider had dreams, it was to kill, steal and rape. If any of those Legion fucks got dreams, it was to take women and force them to slavery. Not all people are saints, baby.” He gives her her hand. 

Stelle looks at her cards. She knew people can be capable of bad, but she’s learned that people can be redeemed and have second chances. “We can still try.”

“And that, my friend, is how you get killed out there.” Benny places his hand down. “Three of a kind, sixes.”

Stelle reluctantly puts down hers. “Two pairs. Kings.” 

“Another loss.” He suddenly checked his watch on his wrist. “Huh. Time to cash out.”

‘Cash out?’ “What do you mean cash out?”

“Our time is up.” He suddenly pulls out a pistol, the one that he shot her in the head with. Stelle stood up quickly, thinking he’d shoot her again. Instead, he slid the firearm across the table towards her. “This place isn't always a place of memories. If you see it, kill it. Catch you on the flipside, baby.”

Stelle caught the gun, inspecting the pistol in her hands. “Kill…what?” Before she could understand what was said, a loud crash came from behind her. “What the hell?” She blinked, suddenly finding herself in a long hallway of white tiles. The lone ceiling light multiplied as they lit up the hallway. One of the lights at the end of the hallway was flickering, the brief glimpses into the darkness revealing to be a figure in some kind of black armor with glowing red eyes. Something was wrong with the entity, that staring at it suddenly made her ears ring from tinnitus - like a firecracker went off next to her ear. She covered her ears, stumbling around with the gun in her hands.  

Faint whispers grew to loud voices and began to fill her head as the armored figure got closer. There were so many of them that Stelle was struggling to even stand from how disorienting it was - but all of them were trying to say the same thing.

“Murderer.”

“Why did you leave us to die?”

“You’re better off dead.”

“STELLE.”

The armored figure walked up to the incapacitated Trailblazer and held her up by the neck tightly. Stelle choked and struggled, trying to pry the hand away from her neck. The armored figure tilted their head before throwing Stelle to the wall, suddenly unsheathing a combat knife. 

“Where's your fighting spirit, Courier?” The voices began to goad her as the Trailblazer tried to get up, narrowly dodging a stab. The armored figure moved dangerously fast, with swift and precise strikes towards her body and neck. The Trailblazer tried to dodge, but she was too quick. Eventually, Stelle made a slip-up, moving to the left just as the figure threw a kick towards her head. She was sent to the floor, slightly concussed.

  “You've gotten soft, Stelle. ” The figure then thrusted the blade into her hand. Stelle cried out in pain, as a multi-colored fluid came from the wound. 

“You can't win.” The voice mocked her again, drawing another weapon - some kind of magnum revolver. The figure drew the hammer.  “ You should’ve died in that graveyard. ” 

There has never been more of an appropriate time to curse. This was a dream, it had to. But it felt like she was actually going to die… However, she wasn't going down alone. With her other free hand, she quickly grabbed the pistol and aimed it at the armored figure's neck from under the chin. “You don’t control me!” 

BANG!

Stelle awoke with a gasp, clutching her chest. Her hand patted her torso in a panic to see if anything had been punctured. She sighed in relief, seeing that the nightmare was just a harmless dream. 

Suddenly, an excruciating pain came as she tried to move her hand - and Stelle's eyes widened as she saw the large gash on her hand. “W-What…?”

“Stelle? I heard something and- oh no!” Pom-Pom suddenly appeared and gasped, before he waddled off presumably to get help. Moments later, Dan Heng and Welt had entered the Parlor Car to see blood on the floor. “What happened?” Mr. Yang asked her while Dan Heng went to her hand and began applying pressure with a spare cloth.

“I-I don't know. I had this weird dream and something attacked me, and somehow…”

“Stelle, calm down.” Dan Heng got to work, putting in antiseptic and bandaging it. It wasn’t long before he finished treating her wound. “Take it slow. I need details.”

She nodded, before describing to Welt and Dan Heng what happened.

“I don't get it. How can something in a dream hurt me here?”

“I've read about these in the archives. Memetic entities. Beings made from the ideas of people.” Dan Heng explained. “It's possible your memories must’ve manifested it or gotten its attention.”

“It's also possible your tolerance to memoria isn't the greatest after your incident.” Welt added. “A vacation with a monster hunting you in your dreams is the last thing we need.”

“Heck of a horror movie plot.” Stelle tried to lighten the mood, which did crack smiles with Mr. Yang. “But what about you guys? I can't be dead weight.”

“I suggest you don't go into combat, your wound might reopen when it's supposed to be healing.” Dan Heng said, packing away the first aid.

“Don't worry about us, Stelle. You need the rest more than ever. If you decide to join, you'd be under surveillance when we're in realms deep in memoria. Just in case something goes wrong.” He answered. “However, you are free to decline.”

“Thanks, but...no, I don't want to miss out on Penacony. Nightmares be damned.” Stelle answered, standing up. She looked at her bandaged hand. “I'll go get better gloves for these then.” She gets up from the couch. “Thanks Dan Heng, Mr. Yang.” She bows her head slightly before heading for her room to prepare.

‘Hopefully the only misadventures I have to worry about are just whatever Penacony drags me into…’ 

Chapter Text

Kafka stared at the script on her phone, reading through it again and again as she sat on the couch, in the living room of their current safe house. Her eyebrows furrowed with each second as she scrolled through the pages.

She never questioned Elio in their time working together, his scripts always true to his words when events unfolded. Even if she didn't like the outcome, it was meant to happen. But this script about the Trailblazer puzzled Kafka. Sure, it was the script of Penacony; but with one massive change: keep the Trailblazer in Penacony at all costs. No method, nothing. 

“Is something the matter, Kafka?” A firm robotic voice gently asked her, making the Devil Hunter turn her head. Her eyes locked into a visor, and she gave a confident smile. 

“Nothing to worry, SAM. I’m just going over the script.” She replied in her smooth suave tone. “Have you prepared for your trip?”

SAM, the last soldier of a long-forgotten empire called Glamoth, stood taller than any of the Stellaron Hunters. In fact, S.A.M was an acronym for Strategic Assault Mech, the name of the suit this ancient warrior wore. Yet underneath this intimidating armor was a young lady named Firefly. The armor dissipated in flames, revealing the woman underneath.

Firefly was dressed in her usual outfit: brown blazer over her green and white dress, stockings and headband. She fixed her hair as she stood before Kafka.

“Yes, I have.” She answered plainly before her gaze went downward. “We will meet the Trailblazer again, won't we?”

Kafka nodded. “There have been some changes. The new script, have you read it?”

Firefly nodded in return. The Trailblazer was an eccentric person to her, even when they first locked eyes those years ago. She was kind, caring and surprisingly flirtatious. But underneath that sweetness and aloof was a hardened warrior. She felt a chill remembering the missions with her. SAM was a killer, no doubt. But she has seen Stelle match that ruthlessness, almost to a whole other level on a bad day.

With the new knowledge of Stelle's past catching up to her, there could be answers as to why she is the way she is. Yet, she still longed to see her old friend.

“I just hope it won’t be too awkward seeing her again without her memories of us.” She comments.

Kafka chuckled. “Oh, I don’t think it’d be too bad, would it?” 

The two ladies left the safe house, gathering all of the Stellaron Hunters along with them. Normally the script called for Firefly to travel to Penacony, but they weren't going to take any chances - not with a new outside player in this game of destiny.

Firefly seemed to ponder for a moment. “Kafka, about the script…”

The former Devil Hunter turned towards her. “What about it?” 

“...you think I can go off-script?”

A sigh leaves the older woman. It was a common question amongst the Stellaron Hunters, though really it came from Silver Wolf and Firefly. When they do try to deviate, it never works as it all comes back to the predetermined path. But now…

“I’m sure you can improvise, right?” Firefly’s face seemed to brighten up.

Kafka stared out the window of the shuttle that they boarded heading straight to the Asdana star system, gazing out into the vastness of space. A sudden weight in her chest began to form as she thought of Stelle.

“We'll be there…” She muttered.

The Trailblazer stared at the view in front of her. Even through the window of the Express, the Reverie of Penacony was a sight to behold. But it wasn't anything too grand that she hasn't seen yet. But instead of being filled with wonder, she felt tense. This was a location with high concentrations of Memoria, a substance she found out that could meddle with her mind. With little info Stelle got from Benny about her memories as the Courier - that bastard - she'll have to find the rest of it herself.

She packed her knapsack, a small black leather bag tied down with latches and pockets complete with a little keychain of Pom-Pom, and headed out along with the others. Welt and Himeko had waited for them before they left, keeping true to the promise that they will keep an eye on her if her reactions to memoria became catastrophic. They dismounted from the train and went through security protocols of the hotel: metal scanners, ID verifications and physical searches by the security made of cartoon-ish robots of dogs, dinosaurs and televisions. March said it was like being a celebrity with all that attention when they were finished. Stelle didn't quite share her thoughts, it was like going through a border checkpoint. The Family was not kidding when they said they kept an eye on the guests.

Speaking of guests, Stelle looked up to see two buildings flanking what appeared to be some kind of mechanical core or metal sculpture. March commented that each row were floors of the hotel, and it went higher than even she could see. Stelle then understood the existence of the high security, even if it was costly. While Himeko and Welt were busy checking in, Stelle gripped her bandaged hand - now clad in a black fingerless sap glove. Dan Heng said the previous owner left them years ago when she found them in one of the drawers of her room. How the Reverie allowed it inside instead of her baseball bat was beyond her. Still, it felt comfortable in her hands.

"Welcome to the Reverie!" A friendly voice came from the side, as Stelle turned to see a young blue-haired boy dressed in a blue uniform. "If you need help checking in, please direct yourself to the concierge."

"Oh, thank you." She nodded. "Are you part of the staff?"

"I am!" The boy smiled and bowed. "I'm Misha, one of the bellboys. If you need help with your baggage, let me know."

Stelle only was able to get another nod as a response before trouble began to arise, March called her over and she went over to see what's up.

"I'm sorry, but your name isn't on the list…"

"But in the information I received from the Astral Express, it states we've already reserved rooms. Please check again for me."

"Of course, give me a moment…Astral Express, four premium rooms for Mr. Welt Yang, Miss March 7th, Miss Himeko…and Mr. Dan Heng. Those are the names on the list."

Stelle blinked in confusion. Why wasn't she invited?

"Yes. I understand. No wonder Stelle's name is missing. When we responded to the invitation, she hadn't even arrived on the Express." Mr. Yang explained. "Something came up with Dan Heng's schedule, and he couldn't make it."

"So why not reassign the room to me? I'm from the Express." She chimed in, catching the attention of the group in front of her.

Himeko nodded. "Yes, we can vouch for her."

The receptionist sighed. "It's not that simple. We can't make the sudden change-"

"Because we're on the eve of the Charmony Festival, Penacony's most important moment of every era." Someone else butted in into the conversation, which Stelle was starting to think was becoming a trend. "And with the Family's invitation, guests from all over the cosmos have thronged this place."

The new person was a blonde man in an outfit that could be described as a garish gambler, with a dark green collared dress shirt (that has a chest window of all things) under a dark brown-ish coat with a fur lining. The back of his coat is literally a roulette wheel. This mystery man put her on edge, but not just because he was a newcomer.

"Hotel security is on high alert, with zero room for error. And with such a last-minute change, it's not something that this young lady's words can resolve on a whim." The gambler turned towards the Express crew. "So, my esteemed guests from the Astral Express, please don't make it harder for her."

Stelle watches as Mr. Yang and Himeko talk for her, to which the gambler introduces himself as Aventurine of the IPC. Another reason to distrust him, knowing what the IPC did to Belobog a few weeks back. Apparently, he also arrived earlier while the discussion was going along, though his tone suggested annoyance.

"...Leave it to me." Himeko says to Mr. Yang before approaching Aventurine. "I've heard that the IPC has also received Penacony's invitation, so forgive me if I'm mistaken, but you must be the representative. The IPC's elite certainly does have an extraordinary air around them…" Stelle's brows furrowed. What is she planning?

"I suppose such an exceptional figure such as yourself wouldn't mind paving a convenience for us?"

"I'm going to pause you right there." Himeko and Aventurine turn with surprise to see Stelle who barged in. "Mind if I talk to Miss Himeko for a bit?"

"I suggest you make it quick; I've been waiting for more than ten minutes." The gambler frowned, but Stelle could see the curious look in his eyes. 'What are you planning?' He seemed to say.

"Stelle, what seems to be the problem?" Himeko asked.

"The problem? Are you kidding me?!" The Trailblazer whisper shouted. "You're trying to convince a corporate executive to do something for us! Since when they ever owed us a favor?"

The navigator sighed. "I understand your confusion, but we're put against the wall here. We don't have many options to work around…"

"With a deal with the IPC? Just to speed things up?" Stelle retorted. "Remember the last time that went down?"

"And we were able to manage. Look, not every IPC representative is what we expect them to be. And the sooner we can defuse the situation, the better."

Stelle paused. Himeko did have a point; it was much faster to ask favors. But Aventurine didn't look like the trustworthy type - and he definitely had an ulterior motive with the way he acts. He reminded her too much of Benny.

"Some defuse plans." She sighed, muttering to herself, before she suddenly turned to Aventurine. "Hey, who's in charge of the staff?"

"What?" The IPC representative was confused. "Did you not hear what I just said earlier? They're busy, it'll take more of your time to wait."

"And what then? Shouldn't there be a policy for that?" Stelle crossed her arms. "I'd say this is an error on the hotel's part for not having a contingency for something like this."

That definitely made heads turn, and the receptionist shrink in embarrassment. Even the Astral Express was worrying that letting her speak was a bad idea.

"Bold statement. Many individuals all across the galaxy would kill to be in your shoes. And you stand in their very establishment to mock them? Pray tell, what will you do when security comes to take you away?" Aventurine shoots back.

She smirked. "Then they'll just reveal themselves that they can't handle a simple problem without kicking people out."

"Interesting choice of words."

Soon a man with light blue hair with small wings on the side of his head alongside a woman with similar hair color and wings of her own. The man was dressed in a white suit while the woman had a beautiful dress that reminded Stelle of an idol, or a singer.

"Mr. Sunday and Ms. Robin." Aventurine greeted. "I apologize for the commotion but there's been a bit of a…kerfuffle with one of your guests. Apparently, she claims your services are not to her standard, high as it may be."

The Trailblazer didn't back down though. "It's called constructive criticism." She snarked. In her head, however, she was sweating bullets. She definitely got their attention now, but not in a good way. It's likely she just jinxed herself and had both her and the Express kicked out of Penacony.

To their surprise however, Sunday bowed. "My apologies. I understand your frustration with the confusion. The Family takes pride in the Reverie, and we wouldn't want any guests unhappy with our services. After all, the Family cannot allow guests to enter the Dreamscape with burdens."

Stelle held her tongue. Did he know about the fact that she was technically not invited and was replacing Dan Heng? Still, it was a small victory for her as they were escorted to a nearby lounge to wait for the issue to be resolved.

But another problem arose: the last sentence Sunday spoke about. Were her new memories considered burdens?

As she worried over more potential mental damage, the Express Crew went over to Robin who invited them to speak about some matters. She didn't really pay attention too much, noting that March was in awe of the fact that she's in front of her idol or something. Then Sunday approached them not long after.

"I have instructed Miss Alley to resolve the system error as soon as possible. I have also upgraded your rooms as token compensation." He spoke. Relief swept over the group, no longer worried about being delayed even further. While Sunday went on to continue talking about "how the administrations will communicate to not have this incident again."

"Enjoy the rest of your day, we apologize for any inconveniences. If you need anything in Penacony, the Family is here to serve."

"And may your dreams be beautiful and pleasant." After they said their greetings, the two siblings left.

Stelle sighed. "Finally. We can check in now, right?"

"Since Mr.…Sunday vouched for us, I think we can check in normally." March answered. "Also, what the heck was that earlier? Himeko already got it covered."

Himeko sighed. "Stelle, that was reckless of you. We're lucky Mr. Sunday is very accommodating."

The Trailblazer rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to strike a deal with another IPC dude. That's that." She huffed, though the disapproving eyes of the crew made her regret it a little.

Welt shook his head and sighed. "In any case, let's not waste any time then." The crew finished where they left off and finally had the receptionist, Alley, check them in normally. They were shown the elevator that led them to the guest rooms.

Stelle took the time to read the Dream Advisory as they walked.

Maintain a calm mind. Seems easy enough, if she doesn't have any headaches and sudden flashbacks, otherwise the dream might warp. This one seemed to be the one she had to look out for.

Enter the dream lying on your back. Memoria is a liquid, makes sense. Wouldn't want to drown in it.

No hypnotics. Memoria had sedative properties? Then again, sleeping is the only way to dream, and sedatives would probably worsen the effects or something…

Do not enter the dream naked. She held in a snicker. Why would a rule like that be here?

Do not assume the identity of another individual. Another rule that is sensible. Hotels with their privacies and policies. She could imagine how many people tried to play off as celebrities.

Not long after, they arrived at a resting place - it seemed to be a bar of some sort. Himeko and Welt settled down, while March and Stelle settled not too far from them. While the two older crew members were talking to each other, March seemed to be tuning in on their conversation from afar while Stelle was zoning out, playing games on her phone. After winning her sixth battle in her nondescript gacha game, she turned off her phone.

"You think we're here solely for vacation?" She suddenly asked March.

"Hm?"

"I mean, it's a hotel with whimsical places, cartoon beings and that IPC jerk is suspicious. We're not here JUST for vacation, right?"

The pink haired girl gave a pause before nodding. "Right on. Himeko told me and Dan Heng earlier about hidden messages in the invite. She said something about the Family not actually being the ones that sent us the invite, and it's possible that a Nameless sent us a distress call."

Stelle sighed. "Of course they'd be something like that. So, I guess we're gonna find some Nameless while we're vacationing." She opened her phone again to check the time before looking at the bar in the public lounge.

"I'm going to get a drink. Sarsaparilla sounds nice about now." She stood up and walked over to the bar. She felt a need to have one last drink before entering the dreamscape.

Surprisingly her room was easy to find, being on the second floor on the left hallway. Maybe because her phone had a navigation system linked with her Dream Pass. A sigh left her as she saw where her room was.

The door was open.

Stelle's body tensed as she saw a person through the doorway. And not just any person in the doorway, a familiar face: Aventurine.

"How fortuitous, we meet again." He greets in that same sickly-sweet tone. Stelle's hands instinctively curled into fists but kept them hidden behind her back as she approached him.

"I don't mean to tell you, but this room is mine, Peacock. What are you doing here?" She snarked, closing the door behind her.

"That's right." He answered, much to her annoyance. He seemed to sense it as he raised his hand as if to stop her. "Calm down, I'm just here to soak in the festive vibe. This may be your room now, but half a system hour ago, it was still mine. A lucky block number, a lucky floor, a lucky room number. You have no idea how much I went through to book this precious space... And now I've given it to you. Treasure it well."

Stelle narrowed her eyes. Her hunch was correct. "You set me up."

"Woah, now. Setting you up? Sounds a bit harsh, doesn't it?" Aventurine chuckled, crossing his arms. "No. If I hadn't set this up, it's likely you wouldn't be able to even step foot on this planet. So, relax and let's chat. With everything said and done, I think I deserve at least this much, right?"

Stelle made no movement as the gambler took a seat on one of the chairs in the hotel room. Seeing as there was no other way to make him leave, she sighed. "What do you want?"

"Straight to the point, I like that." He comments. "Simply put, my friend, I need your help. You may or may not know this, but Penacony's far murkier than it seems. The Family's eyes are everywhere, but you get the drift. My goal is simple: Help the IPC retrieve some things that belonged to them in the first place. If you agree, when this is done, you will stand to reap great rewards, as well as the Preservation's protection."

"Sorry to interrupt but the last time I've dealt with the IPC they nearly ruined a planet that I grew close to." She interjected.

Aventurine sighed. "Ah, Topaz…You have to understand Belobog's debt to the IPC had to be repaid one way or another. I understand you have friends over there, but it was never personal. Still, your ingenuity in that incident did strike me." He stood up from the chair. "It's clear you're not just one of the crowd. You possess a distinct quality, so magnetic that it could sway the outcome of any game. That power, you really don't wish to use it? Or... you don't want to be rid of it? Why not use it to etch your name across the stars?"

He smiles. "The power that men both fear and desire is right in the palms of your hands…"

Stelle freezes. Aventurine knows something. Could it be her memories? That wouldn't make sense, the only way public knowledge about her incident with Fuli would get out is within the Herta Space Station. Unless the IPC's got eyes on there too.

"...Miss Stellaron, have I hit the nail on the head?"

Oh. She kind of forgot about that.

"I didn't touch anything in Belobog, I swear." She blurted out.

Aventurine chuckled. "Acting's good, I like that. You don't have to answer me now. Sit on it for a while. When the time is right, I will look for you again. Of course, you can confer with your colleagues as well or go as far as to use me in turn — I welcome that notion. Because it will also show me your true value."

"I don't do deals where I'm on the losing end. So, I hope that "friends"... don't let me down."

Stelle paused for a moment before she replied. "Then you'd be sorely disappointed. I have nothing to offer."

He chuckled again. Seriously, what's with the smug attitude? "There's always something in everyone's sleeves. No matter what happens... the outcome will remain the same." Aventurine walks towards the entrance of the room, before turning back around.

"Oh yes, before I go, let's play another game — a simple game, to get to know each other better. You just have to guess which hand the chip is hiding in. It'll help you get a better grasp on my personality, and the way I do things-"

"Enough." The gambler paused. Stelle rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I don't care whatever deal you want to give me, what gambling metaphor you want to throw at me. I know the game is rigged; I don't want it. So why don't you just fuck off?"

"Feistier than I expected…And why would I do that?" He smirked.

"I've killed people like you…" She muttered, not realizing it was loud enough to be heard. But it didn't really matter as Aventurine was standing right in front of her, their bodies only a foot away from each other. The gambler's smirk had dropped, instead his gaze narrowed at the bullet scars on her forehead. He seemed surprised.

He sighed. "...so, what you say is true." He flicked the coin in the air before catching it. "The offer still stands, regardless of your body count." Aventurine leaves the coin on the hotel room table before turning towards the entrance once again. "I shall make my exit, Stelle. Farewell."

Once the door was closed, she groaned. "Good riddance." Rubbing her head, she went towards the table to have a look at the coin the gambler left, golden in color and shining with turquoise spades adorning the center. Was this a monkey's paw curling? She did say she'd rather have Penacony's shenanigans than the resurfacing memories of Courier Six. So much for a vacation…

She was about to walk towards the bed, er…tub of Memoria before she suddenly hears a knock at her door. The migraine was already forming as she walked over to the door and snapped. "Leave me alone! …Please? I've got a headache."

"I need your help." Came a soft voice from the other side. "I'm…lost."

She sighed and opened the door, revealing a woman with long dark purple hair that covered one of her eyes, wearing a crop top kimono hybrid and shorts. She looked to be one of the more important guests considering the others simply wore suits, dresses or casual clothes

"Well?" Stelle inquired.

"Could you show the direction of the lobby? All these hallways look the same to me." She asked.

"Go straight from here and turn left at the stairs, go down said stairs and you'll see the lounge. You'll be able to find an elevator from there that leads to the lobby." She instructed before rubbing her face. "I need some sleep."

"Thank you, but wait…" The woman put her foot at the door. "Have we met before?"

Stelle looks at her up and down, before shaking her head and nudging her own foot to push the stranger's foot away. "Sorry, you've got the wrong gal." Once the door was unblocked, she closed it. Another sigh left her lips as she walked towards the tub of Memoria. "Jeez, you can't even catch a break."

She reads the Dream Pass instructions on preparations of the Dreampool before she sighs, doing as the instructions say and then climbing in the tub and settling herself. It was like going into a bathtub with all of her clothes on. Yet she didn't feel the fabric of her clothing soak in the liquid as she laid down and reclined against the pool.

"Please relax. Feel the ebb and flow of your body." A voice in her head spoke. Presumably a pre-recorded message. Stelle could feel her eyelids grow heavier and her vision grow blurrier as the sedative properties of the memoria kick in. She didn't fight it as her eyes closed. "Focus on breathing…and imagine paradise."
Flashes of what appears to be more of the Dreamscape fill her mind: the clock work, blue whales in an ocean and some kind of automaton core. Then came the vision of a wondrous land, a giant city floating above the clouds. Suddenly, a soft voice calls out her name as the image of a pretty young lady clad in a white and green dress outstretches her arm towards her with a smile.

"Stelle..."

The vision flashes again, and the lady suddenly changed. Instead of the dress, she was wearing steel gray armor - one that made her profile bulkier and taller than the average man. Unlike the futuristic armors that she might see here in the galaxy, this one was cruder and more militaristic, with a yellow two-headed bear on the chestplate. In one of her hands is a weapon of some kind, a light machine gun. Her arm is outstretched like before, but her face was one of panic.

"Stelle!"

The Trailblazer was once again bombarded with flashes of more memories: smoke from a shotgun barrel, bodies of men clad in red…and the river of blood that flowed between them.

"Get up!"

Before she could render what was going on, the visions flash back to that of Penacony's Dreamscape – serene, comforting paradise – and switching back to the hellscape of whatever battle Courier Six was surrounded in. Stelle could feel her heart race and the urge to clutch her head, to make it stop. But her body felt limp, like her head had been cut off from the rest of her body. The constant switching of dreams and nightmares was slowly driving her insane.

"WAKE UP SOLDIER!"

The sound of a mysterious feminine voice blared in her ears as she suddenly jolted awake. Her eyes frantically scanned the environment around her. Wind was blowing all around her, and she could finally feel sensations on her body. Stelle took a moment to register what was going on. She was still dreaming…

And she was now in free fall.

In a different section of the Reverie, the gambler Aventurine enters another hotel room. Unlike the Trailblazer's room, this had a window with a nice view of the Reverie's core. He scans the room before noticing something was off.

The man he was supposed to meet is not here. Moreso, he's never late.

Something moved in the corner of his eye, making him turn. But no one is there to greet him. He gives a sigh and a knowing smile. "There's no need for fancy tricks, you can come out now." Yet no response.

"Alright, if you want to play that game~" He answers, turning towards the direction of the door…

A sudden pain erupts into his side as he finally sees who was in the room with him - a woman clad in black; with a black leather jacket, pants and black boots. Instead of a face, a colorful skull mask covered the woman's face, like a female mariachi player. Aventurine looks down to see the knife buried into his side.

"Straight to the point, h-huh?" He stumbles back to the chair in the room. "Who are you?"

The woman wipes the blade on her sleeve before she speaks. "You talk confidently now. Most people do, until the neurotoxin kicks in."

As if on cue, the gambler's body stiffens as he feels his body lose all feeling. Aventurine grits his teeth as he tries to move a muscle. Nothing. Then the pain comes. His body instinctively twitches as a sheer excruciating burning sensation courses through him, like being set on fire without the flames. He tries to open his mouth but to no avail.

His red eyes gaze towards the woman as she sheathes the knife and tilts her head.

"Interesting." She mutters, like a scientist taking down notes. Aventurine could feel the smug smile underneath the mask, as she placed a foot on the spot between his legs. "That little venom came from an insect in my world called a Cazador. Normally the toxin would just kill you in 10 minutes untreated, but I've had it modified just enough to keep the victim alive so all they can do is squirm in pain until the poison wears out. You couldn't even scream if you tried~" The woman presses her finger in the chest window of Aventurine's suit. The touch of his bare skin made the internal pain worse as his lips quivered and his hands shook.

"I've heard about the IPC's Cornerstones, Mr. Aventurine. You people are dangerous." She continued monologuing as she reached from within her jacket to bring out a pair of fighting knives and some kind of orange-brown powder in a plastic bag. "I was going to leave you and your posse alone, but you just had to strike a deal with my target."

Aventurine could feel eyes grow wide slightly despite the agonizing pain. What does this mysterious stranger want to do with Stelle?

"You look surprised." She giggled. "Don't be! I'm looking for her for the same reason you're trying to rope her into your scheme." The mariachi woman sharpened her knives. "Looks like I got to her first. Better luck next time, señor~"

She leaves the hotel room with a skip to her feet, leaving Aventurine to his fate as muffled screams fill the room. The woman puts two fingers to her ear, revealing an earpiece.

"This is Sangre. I've taken care of the gambler. Move to phase II."

Stelle opened her eyes to the strange Dreamscape room once more - the same area where she saw Benny. Except this time, there was no one to greet her, no one to guide her out. Confused, she stumbled towards the door of her hotel room. She reached for the doorknob, but it did not budge. A broadcast seems to play on the vox system, apparently not all of the dreamscape has finished construction hence why some areas are blocked off.

"Huh." She looked if there was any way to leave the room. After some rummaging around, she found a note.

"The impossible can also happen in dreams. Find it, and then you shall be granted an audience." It seemed to read, but most of it had been scribbled over and a new hastily written message was written underneath.

FOLLOW THE VOICES

Stelle puts away the note, a little perturbed. It reminded her too much like those horror movies. Was that part of the dreamscape experience? Because if it was that that's just scaring off potential guests.

But it's likely this was something that her mind specifically was doing to her

She could hear faint whispers that seemed to move around the room before she heard the voices grow louder next to one of the paintings, which was torn down the middle, and light glowed between the cracks. She could also hear the voices more clearly:

"Come closer."

"Patrolling the Mojave…"

"Profligate…"

Just a bunch of gibberish…

Stepping through the painting, she was transported to a different section of the dreamscape - now just an empty hallway leading towards an open door. The voices guided her through the hallway, and Stelle could hear snippets of actual conversations.

"You want to track down your wife?" She heard herself say.

"My wife's dead. I want the son of a bitch who sold her." Came the reply of someone else, a man with a serious and bitter voice.

Stelle narrowed her eyes as she walked down the hallway, hearing more conversations of different people - a lot of which included herself. Could this be the Courier that Benny was talking about?

"Well, thanks for taking a chance on a naive young girl from California with stars in her eyes and a pneumatic gauntlet on her hand…" A voice spoke, a youthful and snarky tone.

"The time for talk has passed. The Lord's work must be done." Said another, deep and wise.

"Who won the lottery, I did!" Another voice interjected, grating to the ears. Stelle probably shot him from how annoying he sounds…then shivered that she even thought of that.

Reaching the end of the hallway, she opened the door - seeing a white void before her and a single person standing with their back towards Stelle.

"Hello?" She calls out towards them, approaching cautiously. "Are you staff? I'm confused with all the visions back there, was that part of the experience?" When the person turned to face her, she realized he was no hotel staff at all.

He was a black man of tall stature, a foot or two taller than Stelle. He wore a duster coat with the sleeves removed over a tunic with an ammo pouch over his chest, as well as thick pants and leather boots. The most notable feature on him was the breather mask that covered the lower half of his face.

Stelle gulped. This was going to be another Benny situation. "Who are you this time?"

"This time?" The man spoke, his voice booming despite his mask muffling his mouth.

"Oh, because I met this guy the last time I was here. Guy named Benny, said he shot me in the head, and he said something about me being someone called Courier Six. But I have no idea who that is. I don't even know who you are…" The Trailblazer tried to explain, but she faltered seeing his unchanged stoic expression and his raised hand.

"You may not remember me. But I remember you, Courier." He answered. "Why have you forgotten your past?"

"I didn't even know I had one…" Stelle muttered. "Look, if you're just going to have some gimmick - can you at least help me remember or understand what the fuck is going on?"

The masked man pondered for a moment before he answered. "Can only remember your time with me. Can't tell your other memories, only stories." He suddenly started walking deeper into the void.

"Hey wait! Are you gonna help me or not?" She calls out as she runs after him. Thankfully he didn't go far as he stopped in front of an empty door that materialized in front of them.

The man looked at Stelle. "You've helped me before. Consider this a favor owed." He points at the door. "Walk through. Then you shall know your history, limited that may be."

"Uh, thanks..." The Trailblazer reached for the doorknob, then turned to the man once more. "You never told me your name."

"I went by many. You called me Ulysses." Was his answer. He looked around, seeing the white void start to crumble. "Hm. This is the world you live in now. Communicating through a dream. Maybe the Dream Weaver tribe were not so foolish after all..." He looks behind him, and Stelle's face paled.

The shadow in black armor had returned, now carrying some kind of bloody golden staff with an ornate eagle at the top end. Ulysses glanced back at Stelle, pulling out a strange submachine gun from his duster coat. "Go. Now."

"Going!" Stelle rushed through the doorway, turning back just in time to witness the shadowy figure swing the staff towards Ulysses…

She didn't see anything else as the environment suddenly changed around her and she was back into free fall - gliding towards what appeared to be a vibrant city at night, back into Penacony's dreamscape.

'I don't know what the hell happened back there. That memetic entity is back...but at least this is a nice change?' She thought to herself as she spread her arms out, the blissful feeling of the wind rushing towards her and around her body. It felt nice to fly, even for a brief moment. But why did she feel something bad was going to happen next—

'OH SHIT, GROUND.'

Stelle panicked as she flailed her arms helplessly. There was only a second for her to brace before she slammed hard into a plaza, cracking the center area from impact. She expected every bone in her body to break and bleeding out...but nothing happened. In fact, it felt like someone bumped her shoulder more than anything. Truly, the benefits of doing everything in a dream.

"...uughhh..." It did not help that she landed in such an awkward angle. Stelle took a moment to recover, before she suddenly saw two people in front of her: the same siblings from before - Robin and Sunday. She stood up, brushing herself of any dream dust. "Am I in the right place? This whole city burns my irises."

Robin giggled softly. "You have a way with words - perhaps you could join with one of the comedy acts." She winked.

Sunday smiled, shaking his head. "Welcome to the Dreamscape. It seems like our guest here hasn't gotten used to the transition. Fret not, feeling a sense of weightlessness is normal for new visitors." He turns to his sister. "Robin, please guide our friend in getting more comfortable with the new environment."

"Leave it to me." She says before she locks her eyes with Stelle's. She had no idea what she did but all of a sudden, her body begins to dissolve (metaphorically) and calm itself down. Stelle was about to protest when Robin soothes her. "Don't worry, just relax. You'll be feeling like your normal self in no time. Inhale..." Stelle follows. "Now exhale..."

A vitality like no other fills her as the past events feels like a distant memory. Stelle opens her eyes, blinking slowly to fully accustom herself. "Thank you. Whatever you just did."

The singer nodded. "You're welcome, Stelle. Welcome to Penacony."

"Cool, cool." Stelle takes another breath. "Is there anything else I need to take note before I go off?"

Sunday shakes his head. "You're free to do whatever, just follow the Dreamscape's rules. Robin already helped you getting attuned to the environment and to have you control your limbs freely in the dreamscape. Essentially, the dream of Penacony is a world formed by memoria. Only by fully understanding its nature can you move freely within it. It's like learning to swim — it's easy to sink at first when you aren't accustomed to the water, but once you get the hang of it you can float and swim on the surface effortlessly."

"Right, thanks." Stelle stretched her arms. "Does the memoria make visions of your memories in any way?"

The administrator pondered before shrugging. "We don't really have an in-depth understanding of the memoria. I've stated before that it's best not to enter the dreamscape with burdens - it might hamper your experience. Unless you're one of the Memokeepers of the Garden of Recollection, it can be difficult at first to manipulate the memoria as you wish." Then he seems to catch himself and laugh. "Oops... I've fallen into my professional habits again. I just can't seem to shake off this urge to be a know-it-all."

Robin chuckles as well. "Don't mind him — he's always like that. Please enjoy the beautiful dreamscape The Family has built for everyone. We shall take our leave. Have a blast!"

Stelle waved the two siblings goodbye, before she checked her phone to receive a message from March 7th. They can apparently message each other through the dreamscape, and the other Astral Express crew seems to have gone to different Dreamscapes. After trolling March for a bit, she gets the request to check out some kind of sales store...

"Why not." She shrugged to herself, checking her phone to see where she's going. Walking down the route, she could feel her limbs feel natural moving through the environment.

But she couldn't help the feeling that she was being watched.

Chapter Text

"Are we ready?"

"Yeah."

The young twins sit behind a small dumpster, watching a man in a suit leave a bar in a relatively empty street. Since their flight to the Hub, Stelle and Caleb have been living off of scraps and begging on the streets. Even if they wanted to look for greener pastures, they had no idea where to go. And no caravan was willing to accept extra passengers, let alone stowaways. As weeks stretched to months, the twins grew accustomed to the street urchin life, stealing from any unaware caravanner or merchant. Caleb didn't like it at first, protesting that stealing was wrong, and they were taught better from their parents. Stelle argued, and ultimately convinced him, that there was no other way to survive. While it wasn't the god-awful lawlessness of New Reno, the Hub didn't exactly allow beggars to work in their stores.

And so, the twins resorted to petty crime such as this – pickpocketing and sometimes robbery. Stelle gave a nod towards Caleb, sneaking to the shadows while she approached the lone man leaving the bar. Over the months, they've developed a simple strategy:

"Excuse me sir, do you have any caps?" She asked the man, looking as pathetic and pitiful as possible while she begged.

Naturally, the man refused. "Piss off, girl. Go bother someone else."

"But please sir, I don't have anything to eat." She begged again, standing in front of him now. The man hesitated, which was enough pause for Caleb to do his thing.

"I said piss off!" The man sidestepped around her, leaving Stelle in the dust – not realizing his pockets were a few pounds lighter than they should be. Stelle only grinned as she walked away, meeting back with Caleb at the dumpster.

"So?" The elder twin asked as the younger pulled out a small sack, jingling every time it shook.

"30, maybe 50 caps? Plus a few NCR dollars…100!" Caleb gleefully pulls out the paper bill.

"Yes!" The twins high-fived each other in victory.

"HEY!" Realizing the man found out, the two take off to a sprint as they circle around alleyways and streets, easily losing the man chasing after them, laughing. It was always their favorite part of the hustle, like playing a dangerous game of tag.

It wasn't long until they lost him, walking towards a familiar alleyway where they made camp, next to the market. A small tent and an empty metal drum awaited them. Caleb walked towards the camp with a skip, lighting a fire in the drum.

"Mm, we're eating well tonight!" He rubs his hands excitedly while Stelle chuckles, counting the money.

"Hmm. 100 dollars and about 43 caps. We can replenish our rations for the next week until we go hustling again." She noted.

A groan leaves Caleb's mouth. "But I'm tired of eating Pork N' Beans! We've eaten the same shit over and over." He crosses his arms with a pout.

Stelle shakes her head. "What did I say about the swearing?"

"Nobody cares! We're homeless! It's not like anyone's going to yell at us for saying 'shit'." He retorts, before sighing. "Can we have steak please? I haven't had any since we…left. And they're having a sale today."

She looks at the money in hand before sighing. "Fine. But I'm still going to buy more supplies. And you're coming with me, you're picking the brahmin part."

"Okay!" He jumps up and follows Stelle towards one of the many markets in the Hub. Tonight was particularly busy, with the discounts attracting all kinds of people. Caleb even pickpocketed another poor schmuck on their way to the butcher, though his catch was a measly 10 caps.

They stopped across a storefront with a stylized drawing of a brahmin, with its two scarlet heads gleefully spreading outwards. A plump man with a mustache and an apron was calling people for his cattle meat: brahmin and Bighorner alike. The twins approached him, and the butcher scowled upon seeing them.

"Hrgh. You two again. Ye learnt my lesson of not stealing from me, huh?" He pointed at them with a bloody cleaver. Caleb gulped, but Stelle simply kept her gaze up.

"Sure did. We're here to buy your meat, Mr. Lazar." She raises the 100-dollar bill towards him. "One sirloin please."

"Well, this is new." Mr. Lazar narrowed his eyes before snatching the bill, scratching his behind while he inspected it. "Hm. Seems legit. Ye little bastards probably stole it." The twins glanced at each other, then back at him with a nervous smile.

He only gave a shrug. "Aight. I don't really care, just don't steal from me again." He grunts. "Sirloin, wuzzit?"

"Yep!" Caleb squeaked, much to Stelle's amusement.

"Hmh." He nodded, putting the bill in his pocket before fishing out the change of 30 caps and handing it to Stelle. "Here you go, Mizzy."

"Thanks." She put the caps in the sack.

He was about to turn towards behind him before he turned back around and glared at them. "I'm going to get something from the back, if you two steal anything again I'm cutting yer hands off, you hear?" After a rapid nod from the both of them, he goes to the back of his shop.

Stelle sighs, handing over the rest of the caps to Caleb. "Go buy the rations for us. We need canned food and water for the week." The younger twin looked appalled for a second before pouting. "Fine. It's only fair."

"It's only fair." She repeats as he walks off to buy the necessary supplies. Caleb whistled to himself as he walked towards the general store that the twins regularly visit to resupply. Unlike Mr. Lazar, the store owner of the store is friendlier to them, and she smiles seeing the familiar face of the younger twin.

"Hi Cal! Here to get your usual?" The store owner, a sweet brunette named Emilia, greets him as he enters through the main door.

"Mhm! Do you have a spot for us to work now?" Caleb asked, placing the sack of caps on the countertop.

Emilia giggled, taking the caps before handing out a backpack. "Sorry, Caleb. I don't have any open positions right now. But I'll be sure to let you know when I have some for you. James is asleep though; I'm running solo tonight."

Caleb took the backpack and nodded. "Yeah…thought we could get an actual job for once. I'm getting tired of hustling people, even though we get more money that way…"

He checked the bag: three cans of Pork N' Beans, two liters of dirty water (granted, purified water is a rarity even in the New California Republic) and a box of Fancy Lads snack cakes.

"Will that be all?" Emilia asked.

"Yep, that's all." Caleb nodded, putting the backpack around his shoulders. "Say hi to the assistant for me."

"Will do!"

Caleb exited the general store, walking back to the butcher where his sister was, weaving between the crowd. It looked like it was going to be a smooth night—

"WAS IT ONE OF YA?! HUH?!"

"I have no idea who that was!" Stelle jerked up, looking at Caleb who was just about to approach them. "Uhhh…Have a nice day!" Before he could even comprehend what the hell was going on, she immediately grabbed her brother's wrist and they took off, leaving a furious Mr. Lazar screaming at street urchins stealing his meats.

"What was that about?!" Caleb yelped, holding their supplies for dear life as they sped down alleyways before returning to their home camp once more. "Did you steal something again?!"

"No! It was someone else! Some girl tried to…" She faltered once they arrived back at camp, halting Caleb with her arm outstretched. Someone already beat them to it first.

The aforementioned girl that stole from the butcher was sitting next to their fire, roasting her cut of the meat - seemingly unaware of their presence. She was about the same age as them, with long silvery-blonde hair that went down to her shoulders and fair skin. Her clothing had seen better days, with only a ragged tunic and a short skirt to cover her petite body, along with a brown headband.

The twins slowly and quietly approached her, with Stelle picking up her bat on the way. However, Caleb stepped on an empty can and the girl suddenly turned towards their direction. The both of them stopped, and she stood up in shock, clutching her steak. Her frantic deep ocean blue eyes and shivering stance made it clear she could turn tail any second. Stelle was about to scare her off when Caleb intervened.

"Woah, easy." He put a hand out towards her. "We're not here to hurt you…" He turns to Stelle. "Put the weapon down. She's not gonna cause any more trouble."

"Hm." She follows as she puts the bat on the ground. "You're in our spot." She commented.

"O-oh…" The girl spoke in a soft voice, her eyes now downcast. "I'm sorry. I-I'm going to go now."

"No, no, wait." Caleb insisted. "You can eat with us. Take a seat." He pats a spot for her as he sits down by the fire. Stelle joins them as the new girl sits in between them. She awkwardly glances between them as Stelle starts roasting her steak using a vent cover as a grill and a grilling fork that she may or may have not stolen from Mr. Lazar previously.

"So, what's your name?" Caleb asks, grabbing a water bottle from the bag he used to store the supplies he bought.

"Um…Ariane." The girl answered.

"Okay, where are you from Ariane?" He asked again, attempting to do small talk. She didn't seem keen to answer as she nibbled on the half cooked rib that she tried to roast over their fire.

"Don't push her." Stelle shook her head before handing a piece of roasted sirloin to Caleb. She looked at the rib Ariane was holding and offered a hand. "Want me to cook that for you? It looks a bit too raw."

"...sure." She handed her the steak, hugging her knees. Her small lips quivered as she asked again. "Why are you being nice to me?"

"Hm?"

"Why are you being so…kind?" Ariane asked once more. "No one does that here. What about your spot? It's yours to begin with."

The twins looked at each other, seemingly having some kind of silent conversation before Stelle sighed. "It's what makes us people." She answered. "Our Mama always said to be a light in the darkness." Noticing the confusion on Ariane's face, Caleb chimed in.

"It means we try to be good people, even when the whole world is evil." He explained with a smile. "People call it naïve, but we try our best."

Stelle chuckled. "Yeah. So don't worry. You can stay with us for the night." She handed Ariane her rib, now cooked to a medium rare. "Careful, it's a little hot."

The girl looked at the rib, then back at Stelle with some kind of awe, before she took it and took a bite. From the looks of it, Ariane probably had the closest thing she had to a warm meal.

Caleb couldn't blame her; it was hard to get good food as it is. He took a bite out of his sirloin steak…

[...]

He opened his eyes. What a strange dream.

He yawned as he stretched his legs in the seat of the space shuttle that he occupied. Cracking his neck, he turned his head towards the open window - revealing a marvelous sight of this alien world that he found himself in, shining gold and glitter like a planet sized casino.

And by God he despised how much it reminded him of Vegas.

The mysterious stranger awoke in this new world…No, calling it a world is a vast understatement. He had been transported into a fucking new galaxy. All he remembered was a bright flash, a wave of nausea and then they were in some kind of hotel. Only when he got outside did he actually see that the place he ended up in looked nothing remotely American, let alone Earth-like.

But he wasn't here as a stranger to explore new lands for the sake of exploration, he had a mission to uphold - playing the disguise of his enemy. Long story short, this squad of highly dangerous soldiers he had infiltrated were called the Cohorts, who answered to a mysterious general that came from a secret organization that existed even before the bombs fell. He didn't really care about its history, but these guys were the reason everything went to shit back home…

He sighed to himself. 'The things you do for family.' He thinks.

He opened a device that sat wrapped around his forearm: the Pip-Boy 3000 - a wearable computer that noted things down like inventory of equipment, vitals and data like notes, missions, etc. The man opened his Quest log and checked the briefing.

The operation this group had going (that he was following to keep the disguise) was to track down what's called a…Stellaron? It was described as something highly destructive but with a potential energy output that can exceed even the greatest of nuclear reactors and fusion cores. Whatever this thing was, it can't be good. Interestingly, this was apparently their second expedition into this universe.

"Zerstörer." Interrupted from reading the mission briefing, he turned his head towards a seductive voice that sent a shiver down his spine and not in a good way. Even if it was just the name of the soldier he was pretending to be, it still unsettled him.

"Serena." He responded, seeing the Mexican woman clad in black facing towards him in the shuttle: Sangre Serena, the loyal and ferocious lapdog. There was another next to her, a man dressed in a tuxedo wearing a gold-colored masquerade mask similar to the creeps at the White Glove Society, minus the cannibalism. This guy was apparently their local informant that was going to bring them into that world. There were also more operators of the expeditionary team joining them, but he only knew two of them were at the front driving the shuttle.

"Did you fall asleep too?" She asked in a teasing tone, crossing her legs. "What were your dreams like?"

"It doesn't matter. We're here." He sighed; his voice distorted through the gas mask that he was wearing. His current outfit for the expedition was black combat armor their team usually wore, with the exception of the helmet - which was the one that he usually wore: a combat helmet over a gas mask with green lens, a small radio at the side and a carving at its forehead that read "Forgive Me Mama." When Sangre asked about it, he came up with the simple alibi of a war trophy, taken from a pre-war soldier. She seemed to buy it…for now.

The assassin shook her head in amusement. "I'll admit, when I heard this world could make you see things, I thought they were lying. Seeing people's dreams is surreal."

"Indeed." Their informant remarked. "Penacony truly is the land of dreams." He checked his pocket watch that he fished from his vest pocket before looking at his faceless associates. "We will touch down in a moment, so I expect your end of the bargain. This kind of service doesn't come cheap, you know."

"But of course." Sangre nodded. "The payment will be delivered to you upon our arrival, per our agreement."

The shuttle soon arrived at the space port of Penacony, its doors opening for the trio upon landing. The entrance to the hotel alone, the Reverie their informant called, was massive; perhaps even towering the Lucky 38 tower in Vegas. The man in the masquerade mask went down first, followed by the two other operators, wearing the same outfit the masked man was wearing - except their faces were not covered by masquerade masks but instead wore yellow tinted shades. He was about to follow the group when he was stopped by Sangre.

"Let them handle the security. We go in our own way." She tapped a circular device on her wrist before she suddenly vanished into thin air. Well, sort of, a slight shimmer in the air could still be seen but it was hardly noticeable that it looked like she wasn't there at all. That neat little device was the Stealth Boy.

Zerstörer looked at his own Stealth Boy before inputting the activation code. He too became invisible, as the both of them left the shuttle and snuck through the security checkpoint. Avoiding the metal detectors, cameras and the prying eyes of guards is hard enough, especially with the high security of Penacony. Yet these cloaking devices made things easier for them. Not to mention, the ones Sangre and Zerstorer were using were production Mark II Stealth Boys - meaning longer duration and invisibility to thermal sights. They breezed through the checkpoint and the lobby as the cloaked infiltrators snuck into the Reverie.

Zerstorer avoided the crowds of guests lounging in the lobby and checking into their rooms. While they didn't have to worry about line-of-sight, if either of them bumped into someone, obviously they'd notice a solid object in the way even if they were invisible. Sangre seemed to weave between guests just fine, if not quicker than he was. Once out of the crowds, he heard his "associate" speak into his radio earpiece.

"Strange. I did expect the whole planet to be brimming with the energy signature, but there's another energy source that's closer to us...hmmm…" Confused, the man brought out another device from his pockets, this time it was a tracker with just a simple screen with a small dish attached to it. As Sangre said before, there was a Stellaron signature in the upper floors of the Reverie - though for some reason it was smaller, yet more potent.

"Another Stellaron?" He asked.

"Most likely." Sangre answered, before switching to the main channel. "All units, plans have changed. New target has been designated. Please confirm, over."

"Legion 2-3, confirmed." One of the bodyguards responded. "We'll start our sweep once we've taken care of our benefactor." He added.

"Roger. Legion 2-1 and I will handle securing the target since we're closer." Sangre answered. "I'll see you there."

"I'll take the elevator. Be seeing you." Zerstörer responded, walking over to the nearest elevator. With that, he cut the radio channel.

Now left alone once more, he took a deep breath. He had to find a way to stop these guys, but the biggest firepower he had on him that could be snuck in was his iron, the SMG given to him before the mission, a few grenades, and a sawed-off pump action shotgun with an engraved spade on the receiver, just below the ejecting port. Zerstörer didn't even use that relic. In any case, he'll have to figure out a way to take them out somehow.

For now, he'll have to play his part. Following the coordinates of their new target using his Pip-Boy - it leads him through some kind of public lobby area, with a bar at the center. Thankfully it was only barely occupied, so Zerstörer was able to sneak through. He was a little wary of one of the individuals there, a man with glasses in a brown outfit holding a cane. Something about him felt off, maybe it was the way he looked even while relaxed.

Not delaying any further, he checked his Pip-Boy again. The target was in one of the rooms in this hallway. Before he could start barging into rooms and checking for its occupants, his radio chirped.

"I've found our target. How interesting…" Sangre reported. "Zerstörer, I expect you to be on this floor as we speak?"

"Affirmative. En route to your location now." He replied, switching his waypoint in his Pip-Boy. "What are we looking at?"

"The energy's radiating from a girl. Not just that…she's one of his older subjects…"

"The what?" Zerstörer's eyebrows furrowed underneath his helmet as he soon approached one of the doors in the hallway. "What do you mean by subject?" Suddenly, a figure reappeared into thin air as Sangre de-cloaked, pushing him towards a corner in the hallway where the both of them were out of sight of anybody. He was about to ask when Sangre simply put a finger to her lips, nodding her head towards the door that he was about to try to enter.

The door suddenly opened as a blonde man dressed in turquoise, with a fur coat with a roulette design on his back, left the room. He noticed Sangre narrowing her eyes at the man. "You recognize him?" He spoke through their radio.

"I've read news and files about him, and the company he works for." She responded. "Secure the target. I'll handle him." Sangre cloaked her Stealth Boy once again and began tailing him - leaving Zerstörer by himself. He sighed, de-cloaking to let the Stealth Boy recharge, and was about to move in when he suddenly heard more footsteps.

"Shit." He cursed to himself as he went back to his hiding spot, peeking to see another person standing in front of the door. This time it was a woman in an outfit unrecognizable to him, the only articles he could identify were the crop top and shorts. She seemed to be discussing with the target.

"I need your help." She said, "I'm…lost."

The door opened, presumably so that the target could see the woman better. He couldn't see the target himself though from this angle, but he didn't want the risk to peek.

"Well?" The occupant spoke. Why does her voice sound so familiar…?

"Could you show the direction of the lobby? All these hallways look the same to me." The woman asked again.

Zerstörer slowly pulled out his pistol - a 1911 with a silencer attached to the barrel - and waited. While it was unlikely the woman would go in his direction since he was hiding by a corner that led to a dead end, he had to be careful. He held his breath as the conversation continued, one thing that was digging into his mind. Why did the target sound so much like her?

He peeked again. Apparently, the door was closed on the woman. She looked almost confused, as she gave a sigh. Then she seemed to glance in his direction. A panicked breath escaped him, and he quickly slid back into the wall. He didn't dare move until he heard her leave, the footsteps became fainter and fainter. Once he was sure she was gone, he took a breath of relief. A bit of a scare, but it has come to pass.

He walked over to the door, taking out a screwdriver and a piece of wire fence. Normally he'd use bobby pins to pick locks but the wire lockpick held together much better than them. Upon finding out the door was locked, Zerstörer got to work - feeling for each pin to lock in place before turning the keyhole. In about a second, he unlocked the door and swung it open

Slipping inside, he saw that the room was a lot more luxurious than even the ones in the Strip - it was very spacious; with closets to the side, a table and couches and a very colorful digital background behind a large clamshell tub filled with a strange light cerulean liquid. Then he looked down to see the sole occupant of the room…

"No fucking way…"

Laying down on the tub was a young woman, wearing a black jacket with yellow outlines over a white shirt and a skirt that went down to her lower thigh. Her silvery gray hair was spread out in the mysterious liquid as she dreamed peacefully. Zerstörer checked his Pip-Boy, seeing the target icon blinking in front of his position. So many questions bombarded his brain as he approached the tub slowly. Step by step, he stopped by the side of the tub to have a better look at the girl. He even had to take off his helmet, just to see it without any lens blocking his eyes. Even with the clothing change, she looked just like how he last saw her.

"Sis…" He muttered, reaching his hand out to feel her face. This had to be some sick joke, or some kind of fever dream. Stelle had disappeared off the face of the Earth after what she did in the Mojave, and he had spent the last five years trying to look for her. To think that in all of his searching, he didn't even fathom that he would find her very, VERY far from home…

But feeling the touch of her soft skin and her hair…No, this was real. She was right here in the flesh. His chest felt heavy as his search had been completed. Caleb finally found his twin.

"This is Sangre. I've taken care of the gambler. Move to phase II." The radio transmission came from his headset. Caleb bit the inside of his cheek before he put his helmet back on. The celebration will have to wait, there was Sangre and the Cohorts to worry about. "Zerstörer, do you have the Stellaron?"

"Affirmative. She's lying down in some tub of liquid, over." He replied to his radio. "Shall I move her?"

"Don't move her, 2-1." Legion 2-3 replied. "Our informant said if we try to move her, you'll be affected by the liquid…the memoria…Oh, fucking hell. You'd get sucked into some fucking dream world and they somehow will know about unknown guests. The whole security will be on our asses, underpowered they may be."

"Then we'll have to be quick. We've got our target, but we need to clear the lobby." Sangre replied. "All units, prepare for assault."

"Roger." A deep, almost metallic growl came into the radio. Caleb shuddered as to what the hell these guys had on them. He gripped his fists. He couldn't play this game any longer, and more people are just going to get killed.

So instead, he looked at Stelle's unconscious body. Dream world, huh? It seems like there was no way to wake her up physically without him getting dragged into it. So he got into the tub, lying next to her body. He'll just have to drag her out of there himself.

"Wake up, sis." He said before closing his eyes.

System Hours earlier…

"Why is there a giant eyeball…?"

Stelle muttered, approaching an intricate doorway bathed in a pale blue light. The only other notable feature of this door was the giant eyeball that sat in the center. Seeing that there was no door handle to open said door, Stelle wondered if this was really a store.

"Trailblazer from the Astral Express — Welcome to Dreamscape Sales Store!" A disembodied voice interrupted her train of thought as Stelle looked around.

"Who the hell is talking?" She muttered, turning her head left and right.

"That would be me! Just in front of you!" The voice answered, making Stelle turn towards the door…no, the eyeball. "Yes, that's it. I am the Dreamscape Sales store, but I go by the name of Dr. Edward, and I'm happy to be at your service!"

"So, the giant eyeball speaks. What's next?" Stelle commented, rubbing her eyes. "How do you know who I am?"

"It's the magic of psychoanalysis, madam. Dr. Edward is happy to assist you!" The eyeball replied. She suddenly shuddered at the mention of 'doctor'. She didn't know why but the mental image of a giant robotic scorpion came into her head…

"Here's where you get to experience all sorts of fascinating dreamscapes — from the top-notch productions of Clock Studios to private donations, we have it all!" The eyeball continued. "If I'm not mistaken, this is your first visit to Penacony, isn't it?"

"Yes?"

"Alright then! Please be rest assured that Dr. Edward will provide the best service you can find in helping you purchase your first Dreamscape and indulge in an exclusive and marvelous dreamland journey…And that's the end of my analysis! I'm sure you'll be a fan of this dream bubble!" A spherical orb of memoria appeared before her. "Hm. This is an interesting one. This contribution by an anonymous donor was specifically made for you – about a memory of one called Courier Six."

She froze. "H-how do you know that name?"

"It's the magic of psychoanalysis, madam!" Dr. Edward replied.

"Psychoanalysis, sure…" Stelle looked at the bubble, a beige glow underneath the blue memoria. "Who the hell sent me this?"

"I apologize but the donor chose to remain anonymous." The eyeball replied, like it was a prerecorded message.

"Okay…Do I pay anything?"

"None! Dr. Edward promises to let every new customer enjoy their first dream bubble for free. Well, let's begin. Please close your eyes and rest your forehead against the dream bubble."

Stelle blinked. She has been thinking about her memories after all, and still had so many questions. She pressed her forehead against the dream bubble and viewed the memory.

[...]

Her eyes opened and she was greeted with a different sight. Instead of the dirty alleyways of the Hub, she was inside of a vehicle overlooking a desert wasteland. Upon hearing the loud roar of the engine, she recognized the vehicle to be a heavy duty truck in some kind of convoy.

Stelle looked down, realizing her past self had changed as well. Instead of the 12-year-old in tattered clothes trying to survive, she was much older now, and was wearing some kind of beige armor composed of a khaki tunic with bellowed hip pockets and khaki breeches; along with a brown cloth around her neck supposedly to be a face wrap, leather pauldrons on her shoulders, arm wraps and fingerless gloves. On her feet were combat boots and wraps for her legs as well, and on her waist were two square pouches and a pouch for a water canteen. Lastly, an armored breastplate covered the chest area where her heart and lungs were. There was a symbol on it as well: a golden two-headed bear, a red star and the letters "N.C.R". Stelle looked at the symbol, wondering if this NCR group was related to her in some way.

"Can't believe we made it." A familiar voice came to her left, and Stelle turned to see her twin brother Caleb, wearing a helmet with a conical brim and the same combat fatigues as her, behind the wheel. "Months of training and look at us, driving all the way to the Mojave."

"You tell me." Stelle heard herself speak, still sounding younger than she is now. "I can still hear the drill sergeant yelling at me to run up the 5-mile hill in full heavy armor."

"Oh, God. I hated wearing that. I couldn't see anything out of that face plate." Caleb added. Both shuddered at the mention before the two laughed it off. Present Stelle couldn't help but smile - she and her brother seemed to be very close.

"Hey, what's the ruckus back there?" Another female voice, this one unfamiliar to Present Stelle, came from the back of the truck. Caleb opened a small window in between them that gave them a view of the back, showing crates with military gear and supplies.

And on the other side of that window was a silvery-blonde-haired girl with a headband around the same age as them, also wearing NCR fatigues, but with an ammo bandolier across her chest. What Present Stelle found a little mesmerizing were her eyes - a deep ocean blue.

"It's fine, Ariane." Caleb replied. "How're the supplies?"

The girl, Ariane, peeked behind her before turning back to Caleb. "All is well. Ugh, it's so boring in the back." She pouted.

"At least you get the machine gun." Past Stelle snarked. "I know Caleb would want that."

"And I would." Caleb chuckled, now with one hand on the wheel. "Want me to keep the window open for you? It's a little hot here in the front, anyway."

Their sentry giggled, leaning against the back and cradling a large rifle with a long barrel, a box magazine and a bipod next to her. Stelle would recognize this to be called an Automatic Rifle during basic training. "That would be nice."

As the banter settled down and silence fell between the trio, Past Stelle sighed and looked out the window. "Hey Caleb?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever think about returning back home?"

Caleb's eyes closed for a moment before sighing. "And facing that monster? …Yeah, I do. But I'm just glad that I'm… we're  lucky we're alive right now. With the New California Republic Army? At least we get hot food and shelter."

"Yeah. There's that. Doesn't change the fact Dad's still there…" Past Stelle's gaze began to wander, slowly getting bored of the desolate plains of sand, the surprisingly numerous amounts of desert rocks…

BOOM!

"HOLY FUCK!" The twins watched the truck in front of them suddenly explode as Caleb slammed his foot at the brakes. Present and Past Stelle lurch forward, stopped by a few leather belts making up a makeshift seat belt.

"You alright?" Caleb asked.

She groaned. "Dizzy, but fine." She watched her brother pull out a 9mm pistol from his waist, making Past Stelle grab a weapon from her right side hidden between the passenger seat and the door. Present Stelle watched in awe as her past self pulled out a full-length pump-action shotgun, loading a few shells into the tube before pumping the action.

"AMBUSH!" Ariane hollered from the back, as Stelle could hear her cock the weapon before the deafening roar of .308 rounds followed suit. She could see from the sides of the convoy that figures hiding amongst the rocks were shooting at them. She and Caleb ducked into the cover of the armored doors.

"Fuck me. They weren't kidding." Caleb commented as he checked the ammo of his pistol, before turning to Stelle. "Ready?"

"On your go."

Present Stelle watched through the eyes of her past self as she prepared for combat. Was this the part that Benny said that she killed people? She felt queasy at the thought, but her curiosity and investment to this memory won her over. She braced herself to see blood…except the moment Past Stelle aimed her shotgun at one of the raiders and pulled the trigger, the memory froze.

[...]

"What?" Stelle pulled away from the bubble, confused and extremely unfulfilled that she wasn't able to see herself kick ass. "Aw come on, what gives?"

"I'm sorry, but that's all for the content of this dream bubble. How was your experience?" The eyeball replied.

"If I hadn't been interrupted, I'd say it would've been awesome." She grumbled.

"Haha, this dream bubble aligns with what you desire in your subconscious! If you're interested in experiencing the dream bubble again, you can purchase it with credits…"

"Nevermind." Stelle rolled her eyes. She refused to even listen to the salesman's protest as she left the Dreamscape Sales Store. Pulling out her phone, she quickly sent a message to March 7th.

Stelle: Checked out the store. I got scammed >:(

With nothing much else to do, she sighed and began to explore around the Golden Hour dreamscape. Sure, the giant gashapon and slot machines were nice - but she couldn't get the memory of her, her brother and that girl Ariane out of her head. Especially the mention of the New California Republic. What country even is that? Was she and Caleb born in that foreign country? Does the Astral Express even know that place exists? She might have to ask Dan Heng about that later.
Before she could pull out her phone to message the archivist about it, her ears were drawn towards a commotion.

"She went that way. Get her!"

"Don't even think about running away, you stowaway!"

Stelle looked up from her phone to see a small crowd surrounding someone, likely the Bloodhound family getting some troublemaker and some guests witnessing it. As she got close though, she finally took a look at the individual surrounded - and promptly dropped her phone.

"Ariane?"

Chapter Text

Earlier, on a different side of the Reverie…

Silver Wolf typed away on her wrist mounted computer, looking at the holographic display while seated on one of the chairs in the hotel room of the Reverie. Across the room sat the other two Stellaron Hunters on the couch, Blade and Kafka. Both were sharpening their swords, with Blade even offering the whetstone to Kafka. The group were able to sneak into Penacony with guidance from Elio and some insider help, and were able to occupy a secluded room on a floor patrolled by a careless Bloodhound guard.

After running a few more programs, Silver Wolf closed her display. "Should throw out our digital tracks for now." She sighed. "Whew, just getting into this place without invitations is already tricky."

"We're not out of the woods yet" Kafka replied, checking the sharpness of her katana before sheathing it and tossing the whetstone back to Blade who caught it with finesse. "We're on schedule with the script, but our outsider could show up at any given moment."

"I've gotten a hold of their surveillance system." Silver Wolf added, opening her holographic display again before swiping it toward Kafka's phone. "Here you go. Nothing out of the ordinary…yet."

Kafka opened the program sent by the hacker, searching through the cameras watching the lobby and the numerous hallways in real time. Silver Wolf's surveillance program had access to Penacony's security database thanks to numerous firewall breaches, and the Hunters can identify each guest with a quick scan of a button. Of course, trying to find an individual over countless guests – especially with a festival going on – would be difficult. Silver Wolf could just upgrade the scan, but it needs time to finish.

And time is of the essence for this operation.

"I've got something." Silver Wolf spoke, opening the camera footage that was looking down a particular hallway.

"Send it up."

Kafka watched as Camera 45 recorded a man exiting the room where the Trailblazer had entered. That was part of the foreseen events, as the man was of the IPC - Aventurine. Soon followed by another woman, unknown to the database. Despite the intruder, this was also part of the events, as the woman was Acheron the Galaxy Ranger. What was not expected was what happened next - as an unknown figure dressed in black combat gear picked the lock to Trailblazer's room and entered inside.

"This must be our man." Kafka comments.

"Not just that." Silver Wolf added as she opened another screen showing different footage from another camera, Camera 37. Here, Aventurine walks into a room - but moments later, a woman in black leather clothing and what appears to be a colorful skull mask exited the room. Upon enabling the audio recording, they could hear her speak to some kind of radio.

"This is Sangre. I've taken care of the gambler. Move to phase two."

There was no doubt about it. Almost immediately, Blade stood up as he sheathed the Shard Sword to his hip. "It's time." He spoke.

"Indeed. We'll handle whoever's taking Stelle." Kafka nodded. "Wolfie?"

"I'll go check if the gambler's still alive." Was the hacker's reply, getting out of her couch. "Do we have to save him? He's IPC, you know."

"We need intel. Once you've gotten what you can, regroup in the lobby."
"Sure."

With their plans established, the Stellaron Hunters went out the door and rushed towards their respective objectives. Kafka and Blade went towards the elevator to head towards the Trailblazer's hotel room while the hacker went in a different direction, towards the direction of Aventurine's new hotel room.

As Blade and Kafka waited for the elevator to bring them down, the old swordsman noticed Kafka's fingers fiddling with the grip of her submachine guns strapped to her waist. Strange… he never saw Kafka as a fidgeting person. In all of their missions up to this point, she was always collected.

"Your hands." The woman blinked upon hearing Blade's comment and looked down to see her hands. Kafka couldn't find an answer to them either.

"I must be eager to go, that's all." She answered nonchalantly. "Let's just focus."

"Right." Blade replied, ignoring her dismissive tone and focusing towards the elevator doors. It didn't take long before the doors opened to the floor of the VIP lounge. The two exited the elevator, ignoring the shocked looks of the guests who had suddenly noticed their presence. Before they could call security, the two Hunters were already in the public lounge and rushing past the bar to reach the hallway of the room where Stelle was staying. Besides, they had more important things to worry about when they heard the gunfire. And a loud "NO!"

Kafka's chest tightened. She recognized the voice belonging to Stelle. She gripped her submachine guns, steeling herself. "Blade, take the lead."

"Got it." The old swordsman drew his blade and rushed towards the open doorway. There was only a brief glimpse of something flying out of the room before Kafka realized what it was.

"Grenade!"

A system hour earlier…

"Ariane?"

The girl before her stood there confused. Firefly had expected Stelle to be confused, yes. But when she ran up to her, Stelle had a look of shock. Almost as if she recognized her. Firefly thought she remembered her face despite the memory wipe Kafka had done at the start of this whole journey, but then she spoke a name she didn't recognize. "Who's Ariane?"

Before poor Stelle could even comprehend what was going on, the two Bloodhound guards caught up to them.

"Hey, look! She has an accomplice!"

"Good work! Now we can nab them both!"

Firefly turned towards them. "Wait, please! There must be a misunderstanding! She's not–"

One of the guards interrupted her. "Silence, stowaway! We'll hear you talk once you're behind bars!" He pulls out a pair of handcuffs and apprehends Firefly without a second thought, with his partner brandishing a police baton. "Come on, let's go get the other one." They turn towards the Trailblazer and approach her.

"Don't you dare touch me." Stelle growled, suddenly putting her hands up.

"Ha! That's not gonna help you any– ARGH!" The male guard goaded but was interrupted by a right cross to the face from the Trailblazer, making him drop the cuffs and down to the ground.

"Jerk! Now you just gave us reason to–" The partner, a female guard, tried to retaliate by swinging her baton, but her arm was suddenly caught by Stelle's hand, who started twisting her wrist in the wrong direction. She tried to resist, but her grip was surprisingly firm and was starting to put an excruciating strain on her arm. "Ow ow ow OW! H-hey, let go!"

"Listen, I don't really care about what the hell you'll do with her, but don't you try roping me into this shit." She replied stoically, twisting the guard's wrist even more, making her cry out in pain and dropping the baton. "So kindly piss off."

"W-wait, hold on!" Firefly suddenly stood at her side. "Miss, you don't need to do that. She's already surrendering."

Stelle quickly looked back at her, causing her to flinch. Firefly wasn't scared of her by any means, but the Trailblazer had a Terrifying Presence. Eventually, she did see her hardened gaze soften, and she did let go of the guard's arm and pushed her away, leaving her cursing on the ground and cradling her now sore wrist. Stelle was about to ask her something when another set of footsteps entered the premises.

"The hell's going on here?" The newcomer spoke, revealing to be a tall man with shaggy brown hair and stubble around his chin, and wears a dark grey dress shirt with a white vest over a turquoise vest, along with a maroon tie and pants sharing the same color. His gloves were mismatched, one being fingerless gloves and the other a white regular glove.

"Sir! This girl broke the nose of my accomplice and almost broke–" One of the guards complained.

"Hold it." The man raised his hand and approached the two girls. "I hope you two don't mind me asking, but what's happening here?"

"These morons were harassing me." Stelle answered, sending a glare at them that suddenly made them gulp nervously. "I only acted in self-defense."

"Right…" The man looked at Firefly, to which she responded in kind with a determined look, before sighing. "You two really are idiots." He muttered.

"What, sir?"

"What's gotten into you all? Open your eyes and take a good look. Is this lady the stowaway we're looking for?" The man gestured towards Firefly.

"Huh? Who's this?" The female guard asked the male guard, pointing at the newcomer.

"Don't you know him? Look at his brown hair and gray vest. He's the officer sent here by The Family to maintain order at the Charmony Festival." The male guard answered.

"I-I see…" Turning towards him, she gave an awkward salute. "Sir, the thing is, we're trying to apprehend a stowaway, and that young lady there looks very suspicious. We're sure she's the one!" The female guard reasoned. Stelle rolled her eyes. What professionalism.

"That's nonsense. Take another look, will you? The witness report says the suspect is a lad with silver hair, and you guys are going after a girl with silver hair. Does that even make sense? She's our guest!" The shaggy-haired man retorted with arms crossed, to the embarrassment of the two Bloodhound guards. "Look, just get out of my way and I'll take care of this."

"Yes, sir." They both answered, walking away with their tails between their legs. They glanced at Stelle again, trying to make sure she wouldn't lunge at them before booking it.

The officer sighed. "Sorry for all the trouble you went through back there. I'm Gallagher from the Bloodhound Family, and those idiots are some young Bloodhounds I've been training. Because of their youth and inexperience, they mistook an honored guest of Penacony for a criminal...This is indeed a regrettable mistake." Gallagher gave a short bow. "I'd like to offer my sincerest apology to you on behalf of the Bloodhound Family."

"Right." Firefly nodded, though Stelle didn't show any form of gratitude.

"We got a tip that some criminals were planning to take advantage of the festivities around the Charmony Festival to sneak into Penacony. Now that the festival is just around the corner, many shady characters are likely lurking around…" Firefly did seem to take some offense in that.

"Don't worry. I believe this is just a misunderstanding. How could such a lovely girl like you be a stowaway?" Gallagher corrected with an assuring smile.

"Thank you for the help." Firefly smiled back.

"Just doing the job." Gallagher checked a pocket watch from his coat. "I need to get going. If you need help, you can reach out to me through the young Bloodhounds in this area. I wish you an enjoyable experience in this land of dreams." Before he left, he turned to Stelle. "Oh, and that hand-to-hand stuff? Don't do it to my guys, alright? This is your only warning."

"Mm. Sure."

"Right then." Gallagher waved them goodbye, which Firefly and Stelle waved in return. Once they were alone, she sighed in relief and turned towards Stelle. "I owe you a big one. If it hadn't been for you, I might have been...taken away by them."

"You tell me." The Trailblazer was looking at her gloved hand, clenching and unclenching her fist before she sighed, picking her phone up from the ground she apparently had dropped. "Look, Miss…whoever you are. I'm confused as all hell, you didn't really have to drag me into that. I'm trying to just enjoy my time here."

"I-I'm sorry to bother you, those two wouldn't stop tailing me." She replied bashfully. "We could perhaps…continue this discussion while I'm doing a tour?" Firefly suggested. "I'm a local here, and I work for the Iris Family." She seemed to realize something before she spoke again. "Oh, I've almost forgotten. I'm Firefly."

She outstretched her hand towards Stelle's. The Trailblazer took her gloved hand in return and shook it. "Stelle…sure, why not?"

"Excellent. Let's get going then." Firefly, shaking her hand a bit after realizing Stelle's grip was stronger than expected, gave a small smile as the two began walking. She knew the Golden Hour enough to act as a tour guide after scouting it out a few solar cycles ago, making sure she used different disguises to get the Bloodhounds off her trail. It shouldn't be a problem to play her act.

"By the way, I've just noticed... You're a Nameless, right? Is this your first time here on Penacony?" She asked.

"Yeah?" Stelle suddenly remembered the Nameless badge pinned above her right breast on her jacket. "I mean, it's hard not to notice this thing."

She smiled. "That is true. Aside from that, the Interastral Peace Broadcast recently did a whole segment about your glorious achievements. I also know that you guys often travel around different places in the cosmos."

"Wow. A big fan, huh?" Stelle rubbed her head bashfully. "Well, I'm nothing special. I'm just a gal who's part of a greater entourage of great people."

"Nonsense, you deserve as much recognition as your peers." Firefly responded. Her mind wandered back towards a time where she was once a cog in a greater machine. Those that fell that day, she never forgot their faces.

Wanting to push that haunting memory out of her system. Firefly innocently asked. "So…who's this Ariane person?"

"Dead."

Stelle's callous answer caught her off-guard, making her turn towards her in shock. "O-Oh. I'm sorry." Firefly's eyes gaze downward, feeling a little embarrassed that she asked.

"Don't worry about it. It was a long time ago. You just remind me of her." Stelle shook her head.

"Really? How so?"

"You have her face and hair. But you have weird eyes. Not that it's a bad thing, but yours are pretty?"

"Oh." Her face felt warm at the compliment, as she tucked a lock behind her ear. "T-thank you. I've never heard anyone say that to me."

"Surprised no one hasn't asked you out yet." She put her hands into the pockets of her jacket as they continued walking. "So, what's your deal? You said something about being with the Iris Family?"

That question put her a little on edge. "Me? No, I'm not one of them — not yet, at least. I merely work for them. I work as a stage performer, although right now, I'm just an extra. When there are no acting gigs, I work as a guide near Glaux Avenue."

She looks around, seemingly looking for something in the crowd. She collects herself and returns her gaze to Stelle. "Anyway, that's not really important. I want to show you around town, that's all." Firefly takes Stelle's hand, much to her surprise, and drags her along. "Come on, we've got plenty of places to be!"

"I…okay?" Stelle let herself get dragged. While she was suspicious of this girl, since it appeared she was hiding something from her, and the fact that the stowaway the Bloodhound Family were looking for someone that fit Firefly's description, if not for the gender; Stelle decided to play along. So far, she seemed the most trustworthy person compared to that gambler Aventurine or that weird purple lady with the katana.

Their little tour soon had them walk back towards where Stelle came from - an atrium that acted as a four-way intersection for different parts of the commercial district, with the center being a circular light blue glass floor with a few glass balls for decoration. Above the center floor is a glass chandelier with the same glass balls hanging from the ceiling. Firefly began to explain. "The first stop most people head to when they arrive in the Dreamscape is the Oti Mall! The Dreamscape Sales Store here is super famous."

"Yeah, that famous store over there cut me off from a really good dream." Stelle sighed. "I get it's some kind of free trial or something, but come on, 100,000 credits for a dream?"

Firefly felt her lips crawl into a smile of amusement. Stelle didn't change at all.

"Business is business, but I don't blame you for being discouraged." She sighed. "Anyway, there are also stores that sell luxury goods, apparel, trendy toys, and even cars... As long as you have enough Alfalfa coins, you can buy anything you fancy." The two walk past a luxury car on display in the mall. "Items purchased in the Dreamscape can also be brought into reality through an extra service. Unfortunately, the transfer of automobiles to the real world is not available at the moment... You can come back for them next time."

"Huh. Didn't know you could bring those with you. So how does that work? You wake up in your hotel room, and suddenly there's a car blocking the door?" Stelle asked.

"No, silly. There's another part of the reality Reverie for that sort of thing." The mental image of a car shooting out from the memoria tub and getting stuck in the hotel room made Firefly snicker. "I can't imagine the chaos if that was the case."

She then pointed down the street. "Over there is the plaza. Follow me, I'll buy you a meal - their delicacies are a must-try!"

"You sure? I might just buy everything just to taste them all." Stelle jested.

"T-that shouldn't be a problem!" Firefly laughed nervously. "I think I have some savings left…"

"Woah, relax! I'm just messing with you." The Trailblazer grinned. "I don't plan to eat much; you can stop worrying about your budget." Firefly pouted at the joke but ultimately decided it was just some good fun.

The duo continued to walk down the street before stopping in front of a restaurant, the Clock Diner, with a neon sign with the restaurant's logo glowing amongst the already blinding lights of the Golden Hour plaza. The windows were colored orange at the top and green at the bottom. The entrance was two double doors that each had a symbol of a suite in playing cards: a spade and a heart on the left door, and a diamond and a club on the right door.

There was a waiter dressed in an umber coat over a light beige dress shirt and pants standing in front of the entrance, who noticed the two girls approaching the restaurant. He gave a slight bow when they stopped in front of him. "Hello! Welcome to the Clock Diner. How may I serve you?"

"Yes, may I have the menu, please? We'll take these to go." Firefly responded. The waiter nodded, pulling out the menu, presumably out of thin air, and handed it to her. Stelle blinked in surprise. 'This was probably part of the dreamscape.' She thought.

"Here, go pick. It's my treat." Firefly handed the menu to the Trailblazer. The selection was surprisingly small, with only six options available for her to choose from, complete with the prices next to them. 5,000 credits for cake, ridiculous! She could buy a similar meal in the Xianzhou Luofu for a quarter of the cost.

"Yeesh, it's like everything here is trying to drain your wallet…" Stelle muttered before pointing at the image of a burger on the menu. "Can I have the, uh…Float Disc Burger?"

"Of course." The waiter nodded.

"I'll pay up." Firefly spoke, handing over the credits to the waiter.

"Please wait a moment. Your meal will be with you shortly." He gave another slight bow before entering through the double doors of the diner.

As they waited, Firefly commented. "I love their Oak Cake Rolls here. I get one here every day."

"Every day?" Stelle raised an eyebrow.

"Well, only one. And I don't have to worry about calorie intake in a dream."

"Thank the Aeons nobody's gotten a dream cardiac arrest…"

Firefly giggled. "You're funny."

"I get that a lot." She shrugged. "Although some people I know find it more annoying than funny."

"Well, I think it's endearing."

"Hm." After a pause, Stelle asked. "You have any siblings?"

"Me?" Firefly pondered for a moment before shaking her head. "No, I don't have any siblings." She put her hands behind her back and swayed idly. "I haven't even met my parents yet."

"Guess that makes two of us without parents." Stelle replied. Firefly tilted her head at the statement. Was this about Stelle's prior time with the Hunters? Or was this her parents in that past life?

"I did have a sibling, though, a twin brother…" Stelle added. "I haven't had the faintest idea where he is now."

"What was he like?" Firefly asked, curious.

"Well…" Stelle tried to remember the memories of her and Caleb. "We were close. I don't fully remember, but from what I can recall…he's a nice guy. He cared for me and Ariane, even if I was the older one."

"He sounds nice." Firefly smiled.

"Yeah…yeah, he was."

It didn't take long for the waiter to arrive with a paper bag with the Clock Diner logo on it. He handed it to Stelle with a smile. "Thank you for waiting – Here you go, madam! And may your dreams be pleasant."

"Thank you… How long has it been?" The Trailblazer suddenly asked.

The waiter was confused. "It's only been two minutes, madam."

"...Huh. Thanks." She nodded back and glanced towards Firefly. She nodded, and they began walking around the plaza. She fished the burger from the paper bag, unraveling the tin foil around it. The burger itself was stacked with a lot of ingredients: starting with melted cheese, the burger patty, another slice of cheese, tomato, lettuce, onion and a large disc-shaped potato chip between the buns. It could barely fit in her gloved hand, but she took a bite anyway. With a loud crunch, she took a bite - and immediately fell in love with the taste.

"Mmm, hohly sheeth." Stelle mumbled with her mouth full. "Thith ith soh goohd."

"Don't talk with your mouth full!" Firefly giggled. "Glad you enjoyed it."

Gulping down her food, she spoke. "I know putting fries in your burger is good, but wow, this takes it up two notches." To Firefly's surprise, she witnessed Stelle finish the burger in four bites.

"Alright then." Firefly led the both of them back towards the atrium before turning right, leading them out towards the main avenue. On their right was a storefront with the same double doors as the Clockie Diner, but the windows were diamond-etched glass instead of the diner's flat ones. "This is one of the luxury stores I told you about earlier." She then pointed straight ahead. "If we keep going, we'll reach Glaux Avenue, which is the road to Golden Hour."

"Yeah…"

Firefly continued leading Stelle toward the avenue's center with a Clockie Statue. However, just after a few steps she realized Stelle was not following her.

"Stelle?" She called for her but only found her standing in the same spot - in front of the luxury store, looking at…something. "Stelle, what's wrong?" When she walked up to her, she saw that she was staring at something with wide eyes. Firefly turned toward the direction of the Trailblazer's gaze. Her eyes grew wide too as she found out what she was staring at… or rather who she was staring at.

Standing a few feet away from them, was a young man that stood around the same height at Stelle; who wore black combat armor that resembled a flak jacket with pauldrons on each shoulder, armor padding around the waist, groin and thighs, knee pads and greaves all underneath dark grey military fatigues. Two black belts held two ammo pouches positioned on each of his hips. He wore no helmet, which both girls could get a good look of his face - sharing the same angular chin, fair skin, round nose and gray hair of the Trailblazer. The only difference between them being, he had emerald green eyes compared to Stelle's golden yellow eyes.

"Sis, this isn't an illusion, right?"

…

Of all the things Stelle had experienced today - dealing with Aventurine, going through her memories from a gigantic eyeball, getting a free tour from the cute girl named Firefly - seeing her brother for the first time in gods know how long was perhaps the most bizarre out of all of them. She didn't even know if he was still even alive when she saw the first memory of him. Yet, here he stood in the middle of fucking Penacony of all places, wearing armor she didn't recognize.

There was so much to say, so many questions to ask, but she could only utter his name.

"Caleb?"

The young man nodded. "It's me. Do you still remember?"

"Not all of it." Was her answer. She walked towards him, until they were about a few feet away. She looked at him up and down. "You're real, right?"

"Real as I can be." Caleb reached towards her face, moving her bangs just to see the bullet scars on her head. "It's really you…Courier Six and everything…"

"So I have been told…"

He looked like he really wanted to say something, but his pained expression was enough to tell that he couldn't. "I'm sorry we had to meet like this, but you must listen to me." He then noticed Firefly standing close by. "I-Is that Ariane? Is she real too?"

"No, it's not her." Stelle shook her head. "But she is a real person, her name is Firefly."

"Hello." She waved nervously at him.

"This shit just gets weirder by the minute…" He holds Stelle's shoulder. "You have to listen to me. I didn't come here alone. There are people out there in the real world looking for you, and they are not friendly." That seemed to get not only Stelle's worried reaction but also Firefly's. "We need to get out of this dream now."

"Wait, who are these people? Why are they trying to get Stelle?" Firefly asked.

"They are armed and dangerous." Caleb answered. "They're looking for something called a Stellaron, and somehow you have one in your possession." He pointed at Stelle, his finger pressed against her chest.

The gravity of the situation seemed to hit Firefly first, as she suddenly fished her phone out of her pocket. Reading something from it, she looked up towards the twins. "I'm so sorry, Stelle. I-I have to go." Before either of them could react, she ran away.

"Firefly, wait–!" Stelle tried to reach out to her, but she was long gone. She sighed before she turned back to Caleb. "So they want me because I have a Stellaron? How do they even know about that?"

"I don't know, but we need to go now." He quickly looks around. "How do we get out of here? Is there an exit?"

"I didn't see one. It's a dream, we have to find a way to wake up." Stelle explained. "We'll have to wait a bit for our bodies to wake up."

"No time." Caleb suddenly pulled out a handgun from the holster on his back - a large, engraved revolver - and cocked the hammer, to his sister's shock. "This must be some kind of lucid dream. I'm doing the shortcut."

"Woah, woah, woah! You're going to SHOOT ME?" Stelle exclaimed. This was all going too fast, first they reunite in how many years and now Caleb wants to shoot her?!

"There's no faster way!" Caleb retorted. "Please, sis…you have to trust me. We're both fucked if we drag this any longer."

Stelle hesitated. Why wouldn't she? She's seen the barrel of a gun pointed to her head before and witnessed herself die. It was still pretty harrowing to her. However, she did realize this was a dream after all, and she's never exited the dream via 'death' before.

"Wait." She pulled out her phone, which confused Caleb since he has never seen a smartphone before, and began typing a message.

"What are you doing?" Caleb asked.

"I'm contacting my friends. Don't worry, they're good people. They can help us." She replied before she sent the message.

The Astral Express Family

Stelle: Meet me in the lounge. Need help NOW.

She put her phone away before she could read any of the replies from the Crew. "There. Done. Do what you have to d-"

Stelle wasn't able to finish her sentence before she saw the muzzle flash, as a .45-70 Government round blew her brains out.

The Trailblazer gasped as she sat up from the dream pool, back into reality. Quickly touching her head, she was relieved to find it intact with only the two bullet scars from Benny. She groaned as she got out of the dream pool. She was glad to be out of the Dreamscape, but the sudden blast scared the shit out of her.

"Goddammit…" She muttered. Stelle heard movement behind her and she quickly turned to see someone move out of the dream pool. The figure had the same armor as Caleb, but instead of his face it was a helmet and a gas mask. "Caleb?" She asked cautiously.

"Yep, yep. It's me." He replied, his voice muffled from the gas mask as he was getting up to his feet. "Fuck, that hurt." Caleb was about to speak to her when he suddenly saw a fist fly towards him, as Stelle punched him in the chest. Hard.

He stumbled back. "OW! The fuck was that for?"

"You should've warned me before you blew my head off!" Stelle retorted, before she angrily sighed. "Whatever. You better explain this crap once this is all over."

"I'll try." Caleb winced. "Jesus, you still hit like a goddamn truck."

He pressed a finger against the right side of his helmet, which was apparently a radio. "Shit. My cover's blown, they're on their way." He cursed, before taking out what appeared to be a normal suitcase. That is, until he pressed a button and flipped it open, revealing the mechanics of a submachine gun underneath. He pulls out another gun - his M1911 - from its holster and flicks some kind of lever, before he tosses it to Stelle. "Here."

She caught it, feeling the pistol in her hands. It was like the 9mm pistol that Benny used, except it was a little heavier with a slightly larger frame. Remembering how Caleb used his revolver, Stelle found the hammer of the 1911 and pushed it down, cocking the hammer back. "What now?"

"Hide." He moved to the direction of the doorway, pressing his body against the corner wall. The door opened outwards so there was no way for them to stay close to the entrance. Stelle, with no knowledge on how to properly fight with a gun, followed his lead. As they set themselves up, they could hear footsteps from looked back at Caleb, who whispered to her. "When they enter the room, we take them out."

Her heart pounded in her chest as she leaned against the wall, holding the .45 caliber pistol in both of her hands. This was no longer a memory where she saw death through the eyes of her past self. This was the real deal.

Stelle only gave a nervous nod before the door swung open, and three individuals dressed in black all stepped inside. Two of them were men in black suits, black ski masks and yellow-tinted shades to cover their eyes, carrying suitcase submachine guns of their own. And one was a woman dressed in black leather reminiscent of a mariachi outfit, with a skull mask decorated with colorful floral designs. Strapped to her hip was a 10mm pistol in its holster and a sword resembling a Chinese jian sword.

Stelle glanced at Caleb, silently asking for a signal. He nodded in response, slowly raising his SMG.

"Spread out. They haven't left the room." The woman ordered. Then the twins struck.

Stelle and Caleb raised their guns and pulled their triggers. The men in suits didn't expect the surprise attack, so they were gunned down before they could retaliate. Stelle didn't go for a killing blow, instead shooting the torso. Caleb had to follow up the kill shot by spraying his SMG at the head and chest. She couldn't believe her eyes but she had witnessed someone's death in front of her.

The woman didn't expect the attack either, but she was able to react faster than her subordinates - as she dove to the ground and drew her pistol in a single motion, firing two shots as soon as she hit the ground. The first hit Caleb in his torso, making him stumble against the wall. The second shot hit Stelle's left hand, causing her to cry out in pain and drop the .45 pistol. Gold and red ichor flowed from the wound, leaving droplets on the floor.

The woman quickly got up to her feet and aimed her pistol at them, swapping between Caleb and Stelle. "Muy bien. You two managed to surprise me." She turned the pistol towards Caleb, who was trying to stand up. "Especially you, Zerstörer… Or so I thought."

"Fuck you, Sangre." Caleb spat.

She scowled. "You killed my favorite lieutenant."

Sangre fired her pistol. Caleb had expected for the bullet to hit him and was ready to move, but a fiery orange light had flashed before him. Standing in front of him was his twin sister, the blazing lance of Alisa Rand in her hands - apparently had deflected the bullet with immense speed. Caleb watched with wide eyes and an open jaw. What fucking world did he fall into?

Sangre also looked surprised, but recovered from the shock and drew her sword. "Is this the power the Stellaron has given you?"

"No." Stelle replied. "I earned it." She takes a stance, the lance pointed downward to form a defensive block. "Now back off from my brother."

Caleb hastily got up and readied his SMG. "Alright, on your lead Sergeant."

"What?" Stelle turned towards him in confusion.

"Sergeant! You don't remember you fought in the army?" Caleb looked back at her.

"I don't know how to lead–!" Stelle tried to argue back, but she was kicked away by Sangre.

The Hispanic assassin rolled her eyes. "Dios mio. So noisy."

She lunged towards Caleb, her blade at the ready to slice him. But she was intercepted by a fiery charge by Stelle - forcing the two to lock blades with one another.

With the extra breathing room, Caleb rushed to loot extra ammo and a few grenades from the fallen operators. From the edge of his vision, he stole glances at the intense duel between the assassin and the Trailblazer. In those very brief moments, he was in awe to see his sister move in ways not even a Legionary could match - moving the gigantic lance with finesse as if it was just a comically large rapier. He aimed his gun and gave supporting fire.

Stelle grunted as she clashed blades with Sangre, defending each strike and counter attacking. However, the assassin moved far faster than she expected. Every once in a while, she snuck in a cut to her arms, her torso and legs, poking at her defense to find weak spots.

Caleb's surprise attack forced Sangre to back off, a few of the bullets piercing the unarmored skin of her leather jacket. Stelle followed up with another lunge with her lance, breaking through Sangre's weak block and actually shattering the blade and forcing her towards the wall. She was now backed into a corner with the two fighters blocking her path.

However, before the twins could effectively take advantage of Sangre's opening, something strange had happened.

Her eyes flashed yellow through her mask and she suddenly charged towards Stelle with her bare hands, knocking her down so hard the lance flew out of her hands. When she dashed towards Caleb, he tried to dodge while firing his SMG. She was too fast for him to register even with a little device that he had access to called the Vault-Tec Assisted Targeting System or VATS.

Sangre kicked him down by the face, cracking the lenses of his gas mask, and sent him to the wall. The dazed Stelle watched in horror as she picked his SMG discharged the entire magazine into Caleb's body, some of the rounds hitting the unprotected parts of his armor. He fell to the ground again, slumping against the wall and staining the walls with his blood as he slid down to the floor.

"NO!" She cried out. There was no way her brother would die like this. Not when they just reunited.

Stelle grits her teeth as she tries to go for the lance she dropped. Unfortunately for her, Sangre was much faster than she was and kicked her weapon away with her boot, before she threw a roundhouse kick towards Stelle's head using the same foot. The Trailblazer stumbled backwards, reeling from the head kick before she was pinned down to the ground. Stelle struggled against her grip, but Sangre pressed the gun barrel to her head.

"Ah, ah, ah, mi amiga." She warned. "You don't want to do that."

Stelle held back tears. Glancing painfully at Caleb's slumped body and with no other option to fight back, she stopped struggling.

"What the hell do you want with me?" She demanded.

She gave a sinister chuckle. "You don't seem to remember anything at all. But I've seen what you can do. You don't know it yet, but you're capable of far worse - of so much destruction…"

"Yeah? If it's the Stellaron inside of me you're talking about, you're out of luck because if you try to kill me, this thing will go off." Stelle bluffed. She had no idea how the Stellaron would react to her body functions shutting down, but she hoped it would put her captor on caution.

It seemed to work, but Sangre simply smiled. "I'm not talking about the Stellaron, Subject 96."

Something about that name made Stelle feel very tense, even more so than Benny or any mention of the Courier. "What are you talking about?"

"You'll know soon enough." Sangre replied ominously before the sound of rushing footsteps entered their ears. "Reinforcements of yours?" She asked, suddenly hoisting Stelle up by the hair. Ignoring the pained cries of the Trailblazer, Sangre put her into a one-armed chokehold, facing the doorway.

"They're gonna beat your ass. I'm sure of it." Stelle grunted, despite the strong grip around her neck.

"Oh I'm sure they will." Sangre then ordered on her radio. "Badger squad, clear the lobby for me. Cazador squad, back up on my position." She put her pistol back into its holster, before grabbing something from her belt and bringing it up to her teeth, pulling some kind of…pin? She then threw it out of the doorway, delaying whoever was rescuing Stelle as the object that Sangre threw was a concussion grenade. There came a panicked voice from the other side before the grenade detonated, sending a loud BOOM across the hallway and even shaking the hotel room. Sangre took the opportunity to push out of the room and into the hallway leading towards the VIP lounge.

Stelle's ears rang as the grenade went off and her vision went blurry from the shockwave of the blast. As she was dragged out by Sangre into the hallway, she only saw glimpses of her would-be saviors - purple and green blobs moved on the ground and tried to get up.

Sangre dragged Stelle through the VIP lounge, firing a shot into the air to control the civilians. They dropped to the ground from the sudden noise, allowing Sangre to pass unimpeded. She was about to head towards the exit that leads out to the Reverie's lobby when she was blocked by a crowd of Bloodhound guards, armed with batons and pistols. She frowned, clearly things had not gone the way she expected. Then she hears a voice come from behind.

"Stop where you are!"

Despite the concussive blast, the pursuers caught up to them. Stelle widened her eyes to see their faces: Kafka and Blade. But why were they here? Did their 'script' let them know about the unknown forces kidnapping her?

"Not another fucking step!" Sangre warned, pointing her 10mm pistol towards Stelle's head. "If any of you move, I'll blow your little Stellaron's head off!"

"I'm only going to say this once, so listen." Kafka responded, snapping her fingers. The moment she said the word 'listen', Sangre's mind began to waver as she lowered her gun slightly. Soft voices were speaking in the back of her mind. Drop the gun. You can't take them all. You'll lose.

"You're surrounded on all sides. Surrender now and let the Trailblazer go, or face the consequences." The former Devil Hunter continued using her ability as she slowly approached Sangre and Stelle guns up, before standing next to Blade. "Do it now."

Sangre hesitated, the soft voice was soothing to her consciousness. Her body wanted to follow her orders… But she knew mind manipulation, after being subjected to it herself. And she wouldn't put herself in a situation like this without backup. She blinks hard, shutting out the sweet voices in her head - then pressing the 10mm pistol harder into Stelle's head. The purple strings that surrounded her shattered like weak threads of cloth. Sangre looks at Kafka's confidence faltering and grins smugly. "I'll take my chances!"

One of the radios of the Bloodhound guards squawked. "This is Jackson, we have two unidentified spacecraft rapidbly approaching the Reverie- Oh fuck! They're gonna ram the hotel!"

The Bloodhound guard with the radio spoke into it, confused. "Say again? What do you mean they're ramming the-"

Suddenly the entrance to the VIP lounge exploded - sending debris and the Bloodhound guards blocking it to the ground. Whatever crashed into the Reverie didn't wait for the dust to settle as a sliding metal door opened and gunfire erupted from the cloud. Seven soldiers dressed in thick black combat armor and respirator masks that covered their faces stepped through, creating a firing line as they opened fire with their black assault rifles. The Bloodhound guards that tried to flee or fight back were gunned down, and forced many of the civilians who weren't already ducking behind the couches to take cover further behind or to flee to the hallways.

"Get to cover!" Blade rushes towards the black soldiers with his sword at the ready to draw fire from Kafka as she moves towards the pillars to flank. Ignoring the pain of rifle bullets carving into his flesh, he lunged towards one of them and swung at the neck, decapitating him. Like flowing water, he moved to the next soldier - sweeping his legs with his sword, cutting them and sending the soldier into the air. He screamed before he was silenced by Blade with a front kick to the face and sending him crashing towards the bar in the middle of the lounge. Bottles of SoulGlad and other beverages fell out of their shelves and shattered onto the floor.

"Take that bastard out! Helion 1-1 and 1-2, support!" One of the soldiers barked orders. Blade's kamikaze rush against the soldiers caused the formation to break, forcing them to step away from the swordsman to aim their rifles at him - allowing Kafka to strike from behind with her SMGs. Two of the soldiers were hit, but their protective gear were able to take most of the burst. They moved towards the pillars to find cover, firing their rifles to suppress Kafka's position.

"OH SHIT-!" A soldier panicked as Blade continued to push through the soldiers, slicing one's arm off and kicking him away, before shoulder-checking the same soldier that yelled and stabbing the Shard Sword through his neck. In the chaos, Blade noticed the two soldiers suppressing Kafka's position, but there was also Sangre with Stelle - moving towards the unblocked exit.

Sensing the hesitation, Kafka calls out to Blade. "Go get her! I'll be fine." She threw a frag grenade of her own towards the pillars where the two soldiers were. "GRENADE!" One of them screamed as the both of them moved out of their cover, which gave the opening Kafka needed to finish them off with her katana.

Without wasting another second, Blade nodded and rushed towards Sangre, blade at the ready. She was tricky, keeping Stelle hostage. He had to be quick and very precise for him to free the Trailblazer without any harm.

Wait… Blade hears something from the left. He tried to dodge but he moved a half a second too slow.

BLAM! BLAM!

Blade was sent flying towards the side, a chunk of the left side of his head practically gone and his torso practically torn from multiple holes. His body rolled lifelessly next to the pillar where Kafka had taken cover. Kafka glanced at his corpse. "Shit." She knew he would come back despite receiving fatal wounds, but the gruesome death didn't make it any less grisly. Trying not to gag at the sight of Blade's brains spilling out, she held his body by the collar of his tailcoat and dragged him towards cover, which would allow him to quickly regenerate before any more damage could be thrown at him.

She took a peek from her pillar, seeing the source of the shot. Sangre had called something large and bulky to follow her - making Stelle's recovery more of a challenge. That was all she could see before the chunk of the pillar exploded, forcing Kafka to return to cover.

"Stay the fuck down!" The last remaining soldier was soon supported by Helion 1: A heavily armored soldier covered head to toe in kevlar and armored plating, armed with a black automatic shotgun with a drum magazine. His comrade, Helion 2, had joined Sangre as one of her extra bodyguards - leaving him to wreak havoc.

Kafka clicked her tongue, just what she needed. She's faced formidable foes before, but at least they gave her time to think, plus she had Elio's foresight with every mission. Without any prep time and the enemy giving her no chance to think, it was going to be hard to think of a plan on the fly. She couldn't peek now, as the heavy kept pinning her down with shotgun fire. It was a miracle the pillar hadn't been degraded into a million pieces, but it wasn't going to hold for long. She also noticed the last black soldier moving closer to her position, rifle at the ready. Blade was still regenerating, so she was on her own.

Taking a brief moment to catch her breath, Kafka reloaded her SMGs before she emptied her entire grenade supply towards the heavy soldier. Five grenades rolled at his feet, causing him to look down.

"What the-!" The whole room shook from the shockwave, knocking the armored unit off his feet. Kafka peeks out of what little cover she had left, firing her SMG to stagger the one soldier left. She rushed towards the soldier, swapping one of her guns for her katana to lunge at him. The black soldier couldn't retaliate against someone moving as fast as lightning, as Kafka thrust her katana towards his unarmored neck. He choked on his blood leaving his throat as Kafka pushed the body away, leaving the sword still stuck to the corpse. Helion 1 was just about to get up when Kafka aimed both SMGs at his head and pulled the trigger. The heavy soldier's helmet can withstand a lot of punishment, but the visor could only take so many 9mm rounds going off at 1,200 rounds per minute. The bullet resistant glass shattered, leaving Helion 1 at the mercy of Kafka's twin SMG fire. The sickening sound of flesh torn to bits from bullets filled the room as the heavy unit finally fell over dead.

Kafka stood there for a moment, taking her breath. She reloaded her SMGs a second time, seeing that she was down to her last spare magazines left. The squad had been wiped out, but she couldn't waste any more time - as the echoing sound of gunfire filled the rest of the hotel. Stepping over the sea of bullet casings on the floor, she rushed to check on Blade. Thankfully, he had regenerated enough to regain consciousness.

"Urgh…" Blade groaned, opening his eyes. Feeling his sides now fully healed, he clenched his fists. "He caught me off guard."

"Don't worry, Bladie. I took care of him." Kafka responded, offering a hand for him to grab. Blade grabbed it immediately and was brought up to his feet. The duo went over to their fallen swords as Kafka nodded towards the exit. "Come on, we need to keep up."

"Wait."

The two Stellaron Hunters paused for a moment, looking back at the new voice that came from behind them. They were stunned for a few seconds, before Blade broke the silence. "Why do you look like her?"

The new voice belonged to Caleb, his helmet now strapped to his hip and thus showing his face, who had just stuck his second Stimpak into his arm. Miraculously, he survived the mag dump from point-blank range thanks to his armor - albeit now starting to take its toll from the damage. Feeling the rejuvenation of the medicine in his body, he picks up the heavily modded Assault Carbine and grabs a few magazines.

"I'm her twin brother." He responds, narrowing his eyes at the both of them. "I'm not sure if you're the help my sister asked for, but if it means saving her from those bastards, so be it."

The duo looked at each other, almost as if having a conversation about whether or not they should trust the person that looked exactly like Stelle if she had green eyes and was a male. There seemed to be an agreement, as Kafka gave a nod before turning to Caleb - looking at the armor he was wearing. "Well, mister. Normally, we'd question you if you're truly her brother. But we're going to need all the help we can get." She glanced at the circle of stars on the chestplate of Caleb's combat armor. "Especially since you seem to know them."

"I do." He racks the charging handle of the Assault Carbine. "Lead the way."