"You three go on ahead." Said Himeko as she adjusted some data. "Welt and I have a few things to check before heading to Belobog."
Dan Heng, leaning against the doorway, added.
"I'll stay behind to help Pom-Pom with maintenance. After certain people had a 'prank war,' several parts of the train ended up unrecognizable."
"Alright." Aleph replied, crossing his arms and avoiding eye contact. "We'll see you later then."
March adjusted her blue dress, giving it a quick twirl.
"It's been ages since we've been here!"
Stelle made sure her new black dress was in place.
Aleph smiled.
He was wearing the uniform Bronya had given him before they left Jarilo-VI. He liked how it looked on him.
...
The freezing wind hit them instantly.
Barely two seconds had passed before Aleph dropped backwards into the snow.
"I missed this." He said with a smile. "That sting on your skin from the cold is oddly satisfying."
March looked at him, baffled.
"Putting Aleph aside... doesn't it feel a bit warmer than last time?"
"There's still snow!" Aleph said as his body began to sink into it.
"But... she's right." Murmured Stelle as she helped him up. "It definitely feels warmer than before."
"The weather must finally be returning to normal."
They walked to Belobog's main gate.
One of the guards stared at them for a moment before smiling.
"Oh! It's you guys!"
Dunn, the captain they'd met before, approached with a grin.
"Great to see you back, heroes of Belobog. Open the gates for them."
"Thanks, Dunn." March greeted him.
"Enjoy the Calisol Festival." He added as the gates opened.
They made their way through the streets to Qlipoth Fortress.
On the way, they ran into Gepard, who was patrolling with a couple of guards.
He stopped when he saw them.
"The Supreme Guardian asked me to welcome you if you arrived." He gave them a small bow. "It's good to see you here for the festival. You came at the perfect time—she's on a break."
"Perfect," Aleph replied with a smile.
"You may go in."
...
Bronya was sitting with a cup of tea in hand, looking quite relaxed.
Beside her, Seele was doing her best to eat some snacks with proper etiquette, while Cocolia observed her with a mix of sternness and disapproval. Ever since stepping down, Cocolia had become obsessed with teaching Seele manners—now that she held a high position in civil administration.
Bronya looked up and smiled as she saw them.
"Welcome."
Seele gave them a quick wave while chewing discreetly.
The calm was broken when Pela burst into the room.
"Urgent news."
Everyone turned toward her.
"Last night, someone stole most of the exhibits from Belobog's Grand Museum."
Bronya sighed and rubbed her forehead. More work.
"...Perfect."
"Three days before the reopening?" added Cocolia, visibly indignant. "Unacceptable."
Seele grinned.
"Well, I could help with that."
More than helping, she was looking for an excuse to escape from Cocolia.
"We'll handle it." said Aleph, raising his hand.
Ignoring Seele's glare, which basically screamed she wanted to strangle him.
"Yeah," Stelle chimed in. "We're free for now."
March huffed, crossing her arms.
"We were supposed to be on vacation..." She took a deep breath. "Give me five minutes to change. I'm not doing this in this dress."
"I'm coming too." Added Stelle, following her.
Bronya looked at Aleph as the girls left.
"You can stay with us while you wait."
"Gladly," he said with a smile, sitting down.
Bronya poured him a cup of tea.
"By the way, that uniform looks great on you."
"Thanks. It's comfortable."
Seele gave him a dry look.
"Looks like a dark version of the formal uniforms the Guard captains wear."
"Really? That's awesome."
Cocolia frowned as she looked at him, without saying a word.
Seele shrugged, taking another snack.
*******
March and Stelle returned to the Office after changing clothes.
"Much better now." Said March as she adjusted a pink scarf she'd bought back in the Luofu.
"Feels weird." Murmured Stelle while tightening her gloves.
"Perfect." Bronya stood up. "Let's go. I'll take you to the Museum."
Seele crossed her arms, giving Cocolia a sideways glance.
"And what about me?"
Bronya looked at her without a hint of amusement.
"You're coming too. It's a good chance for you to practice something we call responsibility."
Seele let out a barely audible groan but didn't argue.
"Please." Cocolia added, frowning. "Behave yourself, Seele."
"Yeah, yeah..." She muttered, looking away as if she hadn't heard.
They walked down the main streets of the city, which were much livelier than the last time they'd been there. The Calisol Festival was in full preparation—banners hanging, colorful lights, and half-built stalls all around.
"The city feels different." Said Stelle as she looked around. "More alive."
"Yes." Bronya nodded. "Things have improved since our last major crisis."
"Until someone stole the entire Museum?" Aleph said with his hands in his pockets.
Bronya sighed.
"Not the entire thing. But key pieces, yes. The exhibit was supposed to reopen in three days, and now…"
Pela, who had been waiting for them at the Museum entrance, waved them over.
"Alright, here's a quick rundown." She began without wasting time. "Last night, between two and three in the morning, the security systems were disabled. Cameras were knocked out, and several display cases were opened without any signs of damage."
"Not forced open?" Aleph raised an eyebrow.
"Exactly. Everything was accessed from the inside, as if someone had authorized access."
March clicked her tongue.
"That's not good."
"There were no witnesses. No one saw anything suspicious. The morning shift guards were the ones who noticed."
"What was taken?" Asked Stelle.
"The biggest issue is that among the stolen items were several historical relics dating back to the time before the Eternal Freeze—including objects tied to Belobog's history and some very old pieces of technology."
Aleph crossed his arms.
"And what about the items without economic value?"
Pela nodded.
"Those too. Which rules out a simple theft for resale."
"In that case." Seele grinned, "perfect excuse to ditch etiquette lessons and do some fieldwork. I'm in."
Bronya rolled her eyes.
"Figures."
March sighed. So much for their vacation.
"Well, this wasn't the plan, but we're already here."
Stelle smiled.
"Admit it, you like it."
"No. This is just as bad as Aleph's puppet show or Dan Heng's stand-up set."
"Dan Heng has a stand-up set?"
"...It was a weird night."
"In that case, let's head inside." Pela said, adjusting her glasses. "I'll show you the scene."
The group entered the Museum, heading straight toward the crime scene.
********
The central office of the Museum was a mess.
Papers everywhere, empty display cases, a screen showing disabled security cameras, and the director pacing in circles with a face that screamed terminal stress.
When the group entered, he nearly tripped turning around.
"Ah! You must be the help the Guard sent."
"Something like that." Bronya replied, crossing her arms. "Explain what you found."
"Yes, yes… of course…" The man rummaged through a pile of papers, pushed aside a half-spilled cup, a museum blueprint, and finally pulled out a crumpled sheet.
"This… I found this stuck to the back door of the archives."
He handed it over.
It was a handwritten note, the script slanted and a bit chaotic.
> "Old things shouldn't be trapped behind glass.
It's time they went for a walk around the world.
Sincerely, Mr. Cold Feet."
A short silence followed.
March was the first to speak.
"...Excuse me?"
"Exactly my reaction." The director replied, raising both hands. "Who the hell is Mr. Cold Feet? I have no idea."
Aleph took the paper, examined it closely, and tilted his head.
"...This handwriting seems suspiciously casual for someone pulling off a heist of this scale."
Stelle looked over at Bronya.
"Any record of a criminal with that alias?"
Pela shook her head.
"None that I recall. I might need to check the database."
"With that kind of alias, it doesn't exactly sound like someone trying to stay under the radar."
Seele crossed her arms.
"He's either really dumb or incredibly brazen."
"Both sound reasonable," Aleph added, folding the note and slipping it into his pocket.
Bronya turned to the director.
"Did you find anything else? Footprints, traces, anything?"
"Yes… actually, yes. One of the night-shift guards mentioned that the ground near the back exit had prints."
"What kind of prints? Shoes? Boots? What?" Asked Pela, raising an eyebrow.
"That's the weird part…" The director answered, looking puzzled. "They looked like footprints… but bare feet."
March blinked.
"...Bare feet? In the snow?"
"Exactly."
"The thief is insane." Seele commented.
"Or really resistant to cold." Stelle suggested.
"Or both."
Bronya turned to the group.
"All right. We've got a nickname—ridiculous as it is—and a lead. It's not much, but it's what we have. I recommend starting by asking around the Museum if anyone saw or heard anything strange last night."
March raised a finger.
"What kind of strange things are we even asking about? 'Man with bare feet stealing artifacts'?"
"So that's it? We split up just like that?" Seele asked, arms crossed, looking at Bronya.
"Yes." The Supreme Guardian nodded, adjusting her uniform. "My break's over. I have to return to the Fortress. But you all can handle the investigation."
Bronya gave them one last glance and a faint smile.
"I trust you'll do a good job." With that, she turned and walked out with steady steps.
"All right…" Stelle looked at Seele. "You and I will head to the Underworld. We'll ask Natasha and Oleg if they've seen anything strange. Maybe this 'Mr. Cold Feet' didn't stay topside."
Seele nodded.
"Perfect."
March raised her hand.
"I'll ask around here. You never know, I might stumble on a lead."
"I'll head to the snowy plains." Aleph stretched his shoulders and rolled his neck. "Pela told me one of Belobog's top scouts reported seeing a strange figure wandering out there. Probably nothing. But it doesn't hurt to check… Besides, I want to play in the snow a bit."
March looked at him, curious.
"Sure? Those plains aren't exactly friendly."
"Better than sitting around waiting." He shrugged.
Stelle patted him on the back.
"Don't freeze."
"Don't worry. You know I get along with the cold." Aleph grinned and gave her a thumbs-up.
"All right then, let's get to work." Seele concluded, already turning toward the path leading to the Underworld.
******
"So nothing strange..." Stelle murmured as she slipped her hands into her pockets.
"Not for now." Oleg replied. "But Wildfire will stay alert. If we hear anything, we'll let you know right away."
"Thanks." Seele nodded.
The two of them walked away from Oleg's workshop, heading through the streets of the Underworld.
"Stelle..." Seele frowned. "Tell me if this sounds stupid, but... doesn't this whole thing kind of feel like something Sampo would do?"
Stelle scratched her head.
"Hmm… it's not impossible. This is exactly the kind of nonsense he'd get mixed up in."
Seele was about to say something else, but a familiar voice interrupted them.
"Seele! Miss Stelle!"
They both turned. Clara was running toward them, clear concern on her face.
"...Why does she call you Miss Stelle and just Seele for me?"
"What's going on?" Stelle asked.
"Several robots started going out of control since early morning. We don't know why. Can you help me stop them?"
Stelle nodded right away.
"Of course."
*****
It didn't take them long to reach the area near the robot settlement, where three robots were completely out of control—sparking, spinning, and smashing into everything around them.
A short fight later, the three robots lay disabled on the ground.
Stelle crouched down to inspect one of them, and something caught her attention.
"What's this...?"
She reached between the open panels and pulled out a golden gear, ornately detailed—clearly out of place for standard machinery.
Seele checked another and found the exact same thing.
"Clara." Stelle called out. "Are these gears part of the robots?"
"No… I've never seen those before. What are they doing here?"
Stelle pulled out her phone and opened the list of stolen items from the museum that Pela had sent them all.
She started scrolling through the attached photos and quickly found what she was looking for.
"Aha." She pointed at the screen. "Look at this."
It was an image of a sculpture. Among its components were luxury mechanical parts, including golden gears with the exact same design.
"Definitely one of the stolen items." She confirmed.
They checked the other robots. All of them had identical pieces hidden inside.
Seele brought a hand to her chin.
"Why would someone hide these here...?"
"No idea." Stelle replied, opening the group chat and sending pictures to Pela.
[Pela: "Confirmed. Those are the pieces. They were part of the Industrial History exhibit."]
[Pela: "…And forget about Sampo. He's been a legit merchant for a while now. No signs of theft, scams, or anything shady. He's been way too well-behaved… even got me some really high-quality coffee."]
Seele sighed.
"So we cross Sampo off. Though I still don't trust him."
Clara stared at the gears, frowning.
"Who would do something like this…?"
Stelle stood up, pocketed her phone, and looked at Seele.
"Well. This is getting interesting."
*****
"This way." Lynx said, adjusting her hat as she walked through snow nearly up to her knees.
Aleph followed behind with his hands in his pockets, casually kicking up snow as he walked.
"Are you sure there was activity out here?"
"Absolutely. I saw it last night. Or... I think I did." Lynx replied. "A large figure. Walking across the plains. Some people say it's the 'Man of the Frozen Caves.'"
"Very... creative name."
"Yeah. I know." She shrugged. "They say he lives out here, immune to the cold. Leaves footprints, takes things, and leaves something else in exchange."
They walked for a few more minutes until Lynx pointed to something between a cluster of frost-covered rocks.
"There."
Aleph stepped over and brushed the snow aside with a gentle shove. Underneath, a metal box with the letters "S. K." engraved on the side.
Next to it, a small handwritten note.
> "If you find this and you're hungry, please take only half. Return the rest. Thank you."
Aleph stared at it for a few seconds, arms crossed.
"Polite... for a thief."
"Eh, technically it's not stealing if you take and then restock it later." Lynx commented, leaning in for a closer look.
"I'll pass." Aleph said, pushing the box back into its hiding place. "I don't need rations. Someone else can make use of them."
Lynx nodded.
"Alright. Let's keep looking."
They moved on for another ten minutes until Lynx's drone scanner started beeping.
"Fragmentum. Incoming."
A swarm of creatures erupted from cracks in the ice, roaring as they rushed toward them.
Aleph cracked his neck and extended his hand.
"Annoying."
A vortex of wind formed over his palm, growing and condensing until he unleashed a Mazan blast that tore through the swarm. The monsters flew like rag dolls, crashing against rocks and ice, disappearing over the snowy hills.
Silence returned.
Lynx adjusted her hat again, blinking.
"...Wow."
"Handy, isn't it?"
As she caught her breath, Lynx glanced at her drone.
"...Huh?"
"What?" Aleph asked.
"Come here. Look at this."
On the drone's screen, as it flew over the area cleared by the blast, something was clearly visible.
A massive drawing in the snow.
Two circles for eyes and a perfect curve for a mouth.
A smiling face.
"Well damn, maybe it's visible from way, way up there." Aleph murmured, staring at the screen.
"...Who takes the time to draw a giant smiley face in the middle of nowhere...?"
"No idea." Lynx replied as she snapped a photo. "But this is going straight into my oddities file."
*****
"Ahh~ This crepe is perfect." March commented as she walked through the streets of Belobog, happily biting into her treat. "Totally makes up for helping out during vacation."
She glanced around, looking for a place to sit.
That's when her foot slipped on the edge of a half-open manhole cover.
"Ah—!"
The crepe flew.
"No no no no—!"
She leaned over just in time to see her poor crepe slowly descending into the underground.
"...Ugh..." She groaned, glancing around.
She jumped down, determined to recover her lunch.
But then, a strange sound caught her attention nearby.
She moved closer and instantly pressed herself against the wall.
"...You know it's all set for the auction."
"The goods too?"
"All of them. And a few extras."
March's eyes widened.
"...Those crates weigh a damn ton."
"Yeah. There better be a lot of buyers."
March quickly pulled out her phone, discreetly aiming it through the grate to start recording.
...
She kept recording as the two continued to drop hints and details.
When the conversation started to wind down, she slipped away quietly, hit send, and typed a quick message to Pela along with the audio file:
[March 7th: "Pela, I found something BIG. Underground auction happening the day before the Festival. They're selling the museum artifacts. Sending the recording now. Listen to the whole thing. Umm… March 7th, the most adorable super-spy, signing off, boss! ☆⌒(>_<)"]
She hit send and smiled to herself.
"Well... I didn't get the crepe back, but I found something better!"
Dusting off her hands, she climbed back up to the street.
"Now... I definitely deserve another crepe."
********
Woooo I finally hit 200 pulls.
How'd it go for you guys?
*******
Stelle Holmes in: The Violet Stain
Act 1: The Vanished Ice Cream and the Foretold Tragedy
The night aboard the Astral Express promised peace, laughter, a marathon of questionable romantic movies handpicked by March (because they were her favorites), and—most importantly—ice cream. Lots of ice cream.
But not just any ice cream.
Not the kind that comes in shady tubs from convenience stores.
This was homemade ice cream, lovingly crafted by March 7th with all her heart, technique, and a 48-minute tutorial courtesy of a cooking channel she found online.
Five kg.
Five.
One for every hour of the movie marathon, and one extra for "emotional preparedness."
And now...
"IT'S GONEEEE!"
March 7th's voice echoed through the dining car. Even the furniture seemed to shrink back in fear.
Inside the fridge, only a sad violet drop remained, slowly dripping from a shelf like the final tear of a victim denied justice.
"This is a crime, Stelle! An atrocity! An insult to the laws of friendship and communal living!"
Stelle, still in pajamas printed with raccoons wielding baseball bats, crossed her arms, smiled confidently, and nodded to herself.
"This is a case for..."
She turned dramatically, opening a cabinet.
From inside, she pulled out a long coat, a deerstalker hat, a magnifying glass (questionably useful in a digital age), and a small notebook labeled.
Things I'll Definitely Solve and Totally Won't Forget About (Maybe).
"Stelle Holmes, genius detective!"
March tilted her head.
"You always keep that stuff in there?"
"Don't interrupt my entrance, Watson."
"Watson?"
"Yes. You're my assistant. A brave and tragic figure wrapped in mystery. Like a chocolate chip cookie... without the chips."
"...Are you comparing me to a defective cookie?"
"A cookie with purpose."
March sighed but accepted her role. After all, the honor of the ice cream had to be restored.
******
00:27 AM – Crime Scene: Astral Express Kitchen
Stelle leaned in front of the fridge, using the magnifying glass with no real need.
"Observe, Watson. The first thing that jumps out is the violet stain. Blackberry ice cream with a hint of lavender. Your signature creation."
March peered over her shoulder.
"It was stolen after it was ready! I put it in the fridge at 10:00 PM with a very clear message!"
They both looked at the fridge.
There it was, on a glowing sticky note:
TOUCH = WAR. —March 7th
Stelle nodded gravely.
"Clearly, this was a premeditated act. Someone tried to cover their tracks."
She pointed to what looked like a napkin stuck to the floor with ice cream.
Small.
Stelle narrowed her eyes. Those were someone's favorite napkins...
Pom-Pom's.
"...Do you think it was Pom-Pom?"
"Too obvious. Pom-Pom would've eaten the note too."
"Aren't you confusing Pom-Pom with Aleph?"
Just then, the train's comm system buzzed to life.
"General announcement: If anyone sees my toothbrush, please contact me. It's gone. —Welt"
Stelle jotted it down quickly.
"Interesting. Two disappearances in one night."
March raised an eyebrow.
"You're suggesting the ice cream was stolen by someone who… also steals hygiene products?"
"Or that the culprit leaves a trail of chaos. Maybe a serial killer of everyday items..." Stelle muttered with a serious expression while eating a popsicle.
March turned pale.
"A conspiracy?"
"Maybe..."
******
00:45 AM – Next Step: Interrogate the Suspects
Stelle snapped her fingers.
"Let's split up. I'll ask the hard questions. You gather evidence, witnesses, and anything that seems suspicious. Sudden mood swings. Sticky fingers. That sort of thing."
March pulled out a notebook decorated with strawberry stickers.
"Operation: Ice Cream Recovery has begun."
*******
And so, with a single violet stain as their only clue...
The mystery unfolded.
Could Stelle Holmes uncover the truth?
Would March 7th resist eating the evidence?
Is it true that Dan Heng is allergic to lavender, or is that just an excuse to avoid cleaning the fridge?
********
Act 2: The Circle Closes, the Mystery Thickens
01:10 AM – Astral Express Party Car
The "Investigation Office" had been hastily set up in the middle of the car. A round table, a pair of chairs facing each other, a portable lamp aimed directly at the eyes of whoever sat down… and a CD playing the infamous recorded stand-up show by Dan Heng and Aleph.
March 7th reviewed her list of suspects while holding a spoon like it was a royal scepter.
"We've got everyone accounted for, boss. But no one seems truly guilty…"
Stelle crossed her arms, deep in thought.
"No one? Are you sure you didn't see Dan Heng lurking suspiciously near the kitchen with an unnaturally calm expression?"
"Dan Heng always looks guilty! But only because his face never changes!"
"…That's a fair point."
Stelle clapped her hands.
"Alright then! Let's begin the interrogations! One by one, until someone melts like a scoop of gelato in the sun."
...
The conductor sat nervously in the chair across from the detective, his tail flicking with agitation.
"Outrageous! Accusing the Express's authority figure of such a grotesque crime!"
Stelle narrowed her eyes.
"Then can you explain why we found a print of your personal napkin at the crime scene?"
Pom-Pom was so offended his hat tilted sideways.
"That napkin was stolen! I use it for my 6 PM snack! Someone clearly planted it to frame me!"
March 7th nodded solemnly from the shadows, scribbling in her notebook.
"Pom-Pom has an alibi. Was eating crystal carrots with sweet sesame at 10 PM. Confirmed by Himeko."
Stelle let him go.
"You're not free of sin yet, fuzzy orb…"
"Sounds like someone wants their funding reduced…"
"Adorable and mighty Pom-Pom, please forgive this humble servant."
.....
The redhead arrived with a steaming cup of tea and her usual diplomatic smile.
"March's ice cream? Yes, I saw it in the fridge. I thought it was some kind of culinary experiment. I didn't dare touch it."
Stelle leaned in, dangerously close.
"And can you prove where you were at 10:45 PM?"
Himeko chuckled softly.
"Reading an article on spontaneous gravitational rifts in the Vesbuta Star Corridor. Welt can confirm."
March 7th took notes.
→ Himeko: Unlikely. No one reads about gravitational rifts if they're planning a heist.
Stelle sighed.
"She's too classy to make something with that much natural coloring disappear."
....
Dan Heng entered, glanced at the setup… and just sat down.
"Again?"
Stelle nodded.
"The missing ice cream. Got anything to say, Little Dragon of Zero Expression?"
"...That nickname again?" Dan Heng sighed. "I don't eat sweets. They make me sluggish."
Stelle eyed him with suspicion.
"You're the kind of calm that's scary. That's what makes you dangerous."
Dan Heng ignored her.
"Can I go now?"
Stelle, frustrated.
"Yes, but I'm still watching you. Like a spoon on a cup of lukewarm water…"
"What's with these weird metaphors?"
Dan Heng left without looking back.
....
The space station genius appeared via hologram, yawning.
"Someone stole dessert? And this matters why?"
Stelle pointed dramatically.
"Don't underestimate the crime, Herta! Those five kilos were worth more than most of your expanded quantum energy theories."
Herta rolled her eyes and ended the call.
"Wasn't me. I was updating my simulation models. Also, ice cream leaves residue. I hate residue."
March 7th noted it down.
→ Herta: Would rat someone out for fun, but would never get her hands dirty. Not guilty (for now).
....
01:40 AM – The Invisible Thread Tightens
After multiple interrogations, results were murky—but one thing stood out.
"Everyone denies taking it... But someone has to be lying."
Stelle paced like a caged lion.
"What kind of monster steals handmade blackberry lavender ice cream? Who had access, opportunity… and the cold heart to leave only a single stain behind, as if mocking us?"
That's when March 7th slowly raised her hand.
"Uh… there's someone else we haven't questioned."
Stelle stopped.
"Who?"
March swallowed hard.
"…Aleph."
Stelle blinked in surprise, as if the thought had never crossed her mind.
"Aleph? Our tough guy with the shiny fists? The one who won the Sky-Splitter Tournament with his own style, Cheese Burger Apocalypse?"
"The very same."
The memory of the last incident—where Aleph mistook a jar of mayonnaise for an explosive artifact—was still painfully fresh.
March 7th murmured.
"What if… it wasn't theft... but an accident?"
******
Act 3: False Suspects and Secret War
02:15 AM – Herta Space Station Maintenance Level
"Are you sure Aleph came through here?" Stelle muttered, pushing open a hatch plastered with warnings in five languages and a sticker that read: DANGER – Containment Zone.
"I saw it with my own eyes!" March 7th replied, gripping her camera like it was a weapon. "He was carrying something in his arms. Wrapped in a blanket. It smelled suspiciously sweet!"
The hatch creaked open like the gates of the underworld. A faint pink glow pulsed in the distance.
Stelle squinted.
"That smell… Lavender? And blackberry?"
"The ice cream!" March shouted.
They ran.
The scene they found looked like a bizarre crossover between a sci-fi episode… and a heartwarming nightmare.
...
Underground Lab – Center
Aleph stood there. His face unreadable.
Freezing magic crackled in his right arm, energy sparks buzzing in the left.
Before him, perched atop a mecha, a hamster with a calculating expression and immaculately groomed whiskers aimed a caramel-spark cannon straight at him.
"I told you, Aleph! The ice cream was only the beginning! Soon, the entire station will be a paradise for sentient snacks and self-aware marshmallows!" screeched Cheesecake.
Aleph was tense, his voice trembling with restrained rage.
"Tell Pistachio... if he wants to declare war on me again… I'll be ready. But this…"
He stomped, activating a glowing circle beneath his feet.
"…this is for stealing from March."
Stelle and March froze.
"Wait—Aleph wasn't the thief?!"
"And who the hell is Dr. Pistachio?!" Stelle shouted.
.....
FLASHBACK – 3 hours earlier
Aleph, headphones on, walked into the kitchen for water.
He spotted a pastel-blue duck-like creature rummaging through the fridge with extremely sketchy movements.
"What are you doing here… beast?" he said, tensing up.
Dr. Pistachio looked at him, tilting his head with excessive innocence.
"Quack!"
Aleph went into battle mode. He lunged at the fridge. Pistachio flapped away with ridiculously tiny wings, carrying a jar of ice cream in his webbed feet.
Aleph gave chase… and tripped over a living blob of jelly, the duck's passive defense system.
END FLASHBACK
...
Back to the present
Cheesecake's mecha fired a burst of caramel sparks. Aleph dodged, rebounding off a wall.
"No one steals someone else's dessert while I breathe, you gourmet rodent!"
The blast launched the hamster into a stack of crates labeled "Live Prototypes – DO NOT FEED."
Cheesecake passed out cold.
From the mecha, a memory disc popped out.
March picked it up and slotted it into her camera.
Skimming through the files, she found a video:
The pastel-blue duck, Pistachio, overseeing miniature creatures training with knives, station blueprints with escape routes, and… a coronation ritual involving cream cheese.
Stelle collapsed into a chair, clearly overwhelmed.
"…so the ice cream thief is a rogue entity born from a forbidden experiment, living in the vents, commanding a militia of adorable beings, and preaching culinary anarchy."
"Exactly," Aleph sighed, wiping his brow. "And the worst part is… I can't kill him. Everyone hugs him the second they see him!"
*****
03:00 AM – Back on the Astral Express
Pom-Pom sipped tea, unbothered.
"So the culprit was… a duck."
Stelle threw the empty ice cream box onto the table.
"Case closed! Stelle Holmes strikes again!"
"But you didn't actually solve anything," Dan Heng muttered from the corner, flipping through a book on cosmic morality.
"That's irrelevant, Little Dragon!"
March giggled while serving what little Aleph had managed to recover.
"Well, at least we saved a bit… and uncovered a plot to overthrow the station."
Aleph bit into his spoon, eyes narrowed.
"…This isn't over. Pistachio is still out there. I know he's watching me. Waiting for me to slip up. But he won't get the chance."
In the window behind them, a reflection passed by.
A pastel-blue duck.
Flapping its tiny wings… ever so slowly.