Misha walked a few steps ahead of the others while Gallagher watched them from a distance, leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed.
Misha began to climb the stairs.
Stelle, March, and Himeko followed calmly. With every step, the highest point of the reef drew closer—that corner where old Mikhail Char Legwork rested in eternal sleep.
"It's been a long time." Misha murmured. "Longer than I thought it would take. But I suppose that's part of the journey too."
Clockie, walking at his side, turned to look at him.
"So now it's time to rest? Alright! That's never a bad thing!" He said, tilting his head.
"After that, are we going on a new adventure?"
Misha smiled, but shook his head.
"No. At least not for me."
Clockie stopped short.
"No…?" He repeated, confused. "But Misha… you taught me that the Trailblaze expedition never ends."
"I did." Misha affirmed. "And I still believe that."
Clockie frowned in confusion.
"What do you mean?"
Misha stopped at the top of the stairs. In front of him, the aged body of Mikhail Char Legwork rested on the sofa.
"But now, I'm no longer the one who should decide the next destination."
Clockie stared at him.
"That's a decision you'll have to make on your own now."
"Misha, you're acting strange." Clockie said. "Much stranger than usual."
For a moment, Misha's eyebrow twitched.
Clockie stepped a little closer to him.
"If you want, I can use Clock Trick with you." He suggested. "Maybe it'll help you feel better."
"There's no need." Misha replied immediately. "I'm fine."
He turned to look at Stelle, March, and Himeko. He gave them a small smile before looking back at Clockie.
"Tell me something, Clockie—Stelle." He continued. "Clock Trick seems capable of solving many things within the dream, right?"
Clockie hesitated.
"I suppose."
"Uh… maybe?"
Misha looked at Stelle.
"And do you know how it really works?"
Stelle opened her mouth, thought for a few seconds, then shrugged.
"No." She admitted. "I never really thought about it that deeply."
Misha turned his back to them as he approached the sofa.
"It's not about understanding everything."
He placed a hand near the body of his elderly self.
"At some point in life, everyone feels lost and without direction." He continued. "Whether here, in dreams, or in reality."
He closed his eyes for a brief moment.
"Maybe our minds fill with doubts and we look for an easy way out. Sometimes, we even wish someone else would decide for us."
Misha smiled as he remembered all those he had met on his journey.
"But even so, in the end we find within our hearts the strength to move forward with tenacity through life's hardships, and to make decisions you never imagined you'd be capable of making."
He lifted his gaze, his expression serene.
"It doesn't matter whether what we feel is sadness, joy, fear, or anger. That small push is enough to take a step—and that's all it takes to discover a direction we never thought possible."
Turning toward Clockie, Misha made a request.
"I hope you and Stelle can share that little push with others." he said. "That is Clock Trick. It's not a magical solution, but the will of someone who, even after being left behind, continues to resonate within everyone who has dared to knock on the door of the Astral Express and join its crew. The will of the Trailblaze Aeon."
Clockie looked at him in silence, and Misha met his gaze.
"I want you to keep moving forward. Don't look back. Not just for yourselves, but also for this planet that my companions and I called home."
He leaned slightly toward Clockie.
"Even if your hands spin endlessly, carrying countless doubts, fear, and uncertainty… I know you'll always find the path—for yourself and for others—toward the tomorrow you long for."
Misha straightened up and placed his hand on the shoulder of the elderly Mikhail Char Legwork before turning to the others.
"This is where my journey ends." He said. "From now on… it's your turn to walk."
A soft light began to envelop his body.
Misha's young body dissolved into shimmering motes, followed by the elderly one. Both figures faded together, as if they had always been one and the same, and the winds of the Dreamflow Reef scattered the light until nothing remained—
Leaving only an empty seat.
...
Gallagher watched as Stelle, March, and Himeko walked away toward the Golden Hour.
He sighed and looked at the empty chair.
"Who would've thought." He murmured. "The old madman's plan actually worked."
He chuckled softly as he lit a cigarette.
"Are all Trailblazers really this stupid? Deciding everything on the spot without thinking it through." He took another drag.
"Our wish is going to come true… It's a shame you can't see it with your own eyes." Gallagher shrugged. "Though, to be honest, I might not get to see it either. You know how it goes—when the falsehood of existences like mine is exposed, we tend to disappear."
"That kid… he's not so different from them." He said. "Stubborn as a mule, never listens to anyone. Maybe he would've made a good Trailblazer if things were different. But what does it matter—fate is unpredictable. I think… without the Paths binding us, we might've had some good conversations."
He opened a can of Happy Soul and took a sip.
"How much time has passed already, since all of this began?"
He looked up at the night sky over the Dreamflow Reef.
"Oh, Mikhail… I wonder." He said softly. "Can you still see me from wherever you are? Do you still have ears clear enough to hear this old dog howling at the moon? Do you remember what they shouted at us? 'Damn traitors, go to hell'… Ha."
He shook his head.
"If wishing for freedom means going to hell… then I guess we'll be having dinner together there soon, you old fool."
He pulled out a couple of bottles from a hidden compartment and mixed a cocktail.
Raising his glass as he leaned once more against the pillar, Gallagher smiled.
"To the new generation." He said. "A toast of 'Hello and Goodbye.'"
As a light breeze stirred his clothes, Gallagher sighed while gazing at the now-empty chair.
"…To an imperfect tomorrow."
*****************
A flock of crows descended in silence, perching at different heights around Sunday. Their black wings folded with an unsettling synchronicity, as if they shared a single thought.
"Time is running short." Said the Dream Master. "There are barely three hours left until the Carismonia Festival."
Sunday did not reply. His gaze remained fixed on the horizon, his back turned.
"Thanks to the Nameless." The Dream Master continued. "Secrets have come to light. Ships from the Family and the Corporation are already mobilizing toward Asdana."
Sunday let out a faint smile.
"Your last confession was… unexpected." He said. "I never imagined you had split yourself into three edicts."
"Precisely why this moment is crucial." He replied. "Tell me where Robin is. Her role as Harmonizer is indispensable."
Sunday tilted his head.
"What do you mean?" He asked softly.
Then he stepped forward and placed a hand over his chest.
"I'll take care of it."
"Robin is the one who should be the star of the Carismonia Festival."
"She will not sing for the Order." Sunday replied without hesitation. "So I will take her place."
A sigh escaped the Dream Master.
"You were always more mature than your age suggested." He said. "That's why I trust you understand the weight of this choice."
Sunday closed his eyes for a moment.
"I know my actions may be seen as betrayal."
When he opened them again, there was no trace of hesitation.
"But there cannot be two suns. And if necessary… the one that already exists must fall."
The Dream Master fell silent. Then he nodded.
"I see. So you have chosen this path."
"Why did you accept this so quickly?" Sunday asked. "Was all of this foreseen—part of your plan?"
"Tell me." Replied the Dream Master. "Do you believe in karma?"
"If it truly exists." Said Sunday, "then everyone bears their own. Mine has nothing to do with yours."
The Dream Master sighed once more.
"The curtain is about to rise." He said. "As my son, you will take up Harmony and reveal your karma."
"There's something I need to know," Sunday said.
The crows fixed their gaze on him.
"There's something I need to know." He repeated at last. "Why Penacony? Why choose a world of dreams and hope instead of one steeped in despair?"
"For justice. If we lose it in our hearts… what would distinguish us from Harmony?"
The Dream Master looked away.
"I never managed to see the true secrets of Propagation." He admitted. "That part of the plan was left to another edict. But the asset is already secured. With the Stellaron planted in the Oak Family Manor, success is inevitable."
Sunday narrowed his eyes, understanding dawning on him.
"Hurry." Said the Dream Master. "This is the moment to step forward."
That was the Divine Edict of Midnight.
"00:00. Because the stars belong to everyone. They have never belonged to anyone. If you love everyone, then you love no one."
"You are mistaken. Paradise will not arrive at midnight, but at noon. I will initiate the first and only Edict of the Great Septimus."
Sunday turned his back once more.
"12:00. I will ascend to the heavens and become the blazing sun."
One by one, the crows fell lifeless to the ground. The Second Divine Edict came to an end, leaving the Order in Sunday's hands.
"Bathed in my light, the people will prosper, and evil will be eradicated."
In the empty Grand Theater of Penacony, only the Choir of the Firmament and Sunday's footsteps broke the silence as he contemplated the final preparations.
"I will walk the path of Order as you wished." He murmured. "But I will not follow your teachings or your edicts. As long as I am the only star in the sky—even if I belong to no one—at least cruelty will cease to exist."
*********
SAM descended, and upon touching the ground, its armor dissolved into motes of light.
Firefly remained standing, observing the surroundings.
A violet mist covered the area, and armies of memes guarded the grounds of the Oak Family Manor. Roots spread across its walls, twisting like veins, while the screeching of countless insects filled the air.
Firefly frowned.
"So this is where he carries out his plans…?" She murmured.
"…Or where he will find his redemption?"
Sensing a presence behind her, Firefly turned immediately.
A man with slicked-back black hair watched her through half-lidded eyes behind glasses. He wore a black robe, similar to that of a priest.
Firefly took a step back.
"Gopher Wood…"
The man shook his head calmly.
"It's normal that you wouldn't know." He said with a serene smile. "I am not Gopher Wood. I am one of the Divine Edicts he split himself into."
Firefly tensed, ready to fight.
"I know your true nature." She said firmly. "Whatever your goal is, I won't let you achieve it."
The smile on the Edict's face remained unchanged despite the clear hostility directed at him.
"Calm yourself." He replied. "I am nothing more than a thought shaped by memory. Not very different from those memes you could destroy with a single blow."
He looked at her with interest.
"So tell me… why fear me?"
Firefly did not answer.
"And yet, despite my words, your concern is not unfounded." He continued. "There is a reason I am here—but it is not the one you believe."
Firefly held his gaze.
"Go on."
The Divine Edict did not seem surprised.
"Not even I, of all people, can claim to know the full extent of the Dream Master's malicious plans." He said calmly. "But there is something I do know. He was waiting for your arrival. For the fall of that Glamoth legionnaire. The one he sacrificed with his own hands to serve his ends. He expects it to be you who, through me, obtains justice. That you see it. That you witness it."
The Edict turned and began to walk away, giving her his back.
"I know this place better than anyone, and therefore I will be the one to serve as your guide."
He took a few more steps.
"Do not take this lightly." He added. "Isn't bearing witness to his confession equivalent to revealing the truth behind the atrocities committed in the name of his ambition?"
"Step aside." Firefly replied coldly. "Don't interfere."
The Edict slowly shook his head.
"What use is superior strength if, in the end, you cannot comprehend what you are about to witness?" He said. "Without someone to explain what you see, without someone to dispel the fog of your uncertainty… how certain are you that you'll truly understand everything?"
Firefly exhaled impatiently.
"Lead the way." She said. "But the instant you show any strange behavior… I'll tear your head off."
The Edict smiled faintly and resumed walking.
...
As they advanced, Firefly noticed something that set her nerves on edge.
The memes, strangely enough, did not rush them to attack, instead remaining completely still.
"Why aren't they reacting?" She asked.
"They are guardians." The Edict explained. "And as long as they are in my presence, they will not harm you."
When they reached the entrance to the Oak Family Manor, Firefly stopped. Her eyes swept over the statues of the twin jailers, then to the medium-sized cage at the center, containing a curled-up figure in a fetal position, barely fitting inside.
Firefly frowned.
"Was the Oak Family Manor always this… peculiar?"
"No." The Edict replied. "Not at first. When Gopher Wood took control of the Sweet Dream, he never denied entry to anyone, as long as they pursued their dreams sincerely. It didn't matter how suspicious they were, or how heavy their past."
He stopped in front of the cage.
"He believed in redemption. He believed that anyone could improve if they embraced Harmony with all their heart."
Firefly silently observed the sculptures.
"Seems those expectations were never met." She murmured.
The Edict nodded.
"No." he confirmed. "The wicked never learned. And in their arrogance, they conspired together. They sent a messenger into the cosmos, seeking the Main Family. All they received in return was rejection and disgrace."
The Edict turned toward her.
"That was the true origin of the uprising that devastated Penacony. The one that ended the Dream Master's life… and condemned him to exist as an incorporeal being, bound to the dream."
He looked around.
"Shortly after, the manor was decorated like this."
Firefly glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
"Was this a warning to himself… or to whoever would succeed him?" She asked.
"I don't know. But let me ask you something. How many are trapped within their dreams? If the path you walk is paved with suffering… why do you refuse to abandon it?"
Firefly crossed her arms, frowning.
"I… think I can understand him. At least, to some extent."
The Edict watched her.
"This was a turning point for him." He explained. "A moment that forced him to question his choices and his faith in Harmony. Unfortunately, my own memories are incomplete, so they lack the answer he reached back then."
He lifted his head with a contemplative expression.
"Perhaps that is why I exist. To walk the same path, but with a mature heart, untainted by the weight of his actions. Hoping to validate his decision… or perhaps to choose differently."
Firefly shook her head.
"To choose… Now it's already too late."
The Edict disagreed.
"I don't believe so. Sometimes the kindest acts are born from wicked hearts, and the most atrocious ones from benevolent hearts."
He stared at her intently.
"Whatever the case may be for the Dream Master, I will judge him for myself. And I will make my own decision."
With a strange creaking sound, the statues moved, clearing the obstacles at their sides and opening two paths.
"With authority, the guilty must be stoned." whispered the jailer of the path with the red carpet. "If you do not humiliate the wicked… how do you demonstrate justice?"
"Only through deception can one continue," Murmured the other. "If you wish to bear hope, do not reveal the dire fate."
Firefly looked at both routes.
"Which one did Gopher Wood take?"
"He chose the path of force." The Edict replied. "But that doesn't matter here."
He turned to her.
"What matters now is which choice you will make."
Firefly stepped forward and finally chose the path with the purple carpet.
"Once you choose." The Edict said. "All other paths collapse. Whether here in the dream or in reality. There is no use longing for a distant past if you cannot hold the heavy future in your hands."
Under Firefly's gaze, the staircase of the red carpet cracked apart.
And fell into the void.
....
At the end of the path, a screen rose before them.
When Firefly approached, its surface came to life. The image of a colossal man with dark skin and gray hair appeared, his body covered in wounds that bled golden blood.
"Nanook…?" Firefly murmured.
The Divine Edict spoke in a low voice.
"In the end, the path most humans walk seems to always lead to the same outcome. As if individual will had no real impact at all. As if everything were already decided."
Before Firefly could reply, the ground beneath their feet blurred.
And the image swallowed them, reconstructing the world with the texture of a lingering memory.
The Dream Master, in his crow form, perched atop a sofa.
Before him stood a representative of the Main Family, observing him without any expression.
"You are aware that I have already been informed of Nanook's manifestation," said the Dream Master. "And of the fall of the Eternal Centurion. That is why my question is simple. What brings a prestigious messenger of the Main Family to a frontier like Penacony, knowing how troublesome it is just to reach this place?"
"The answer is just as simple." She replied. "I have come to deliver punishment."
The Dream Master tilted his head, confused.
"Punishment?" He repeated. "I barely survived a revolt that killed me. I am bound to the dream as a direct consequence of that. What crime am I being accused of now?"
"Do not pretend you do not understand my words. I am referring to the ones you already confessed to on your own."
"That is impossible." He said at last. "I never—"
"The Family does not tolerate incompetence." The messenger interrupted. "Not even in a frontier leader. You not only failed to suppress the revolt, you even died in the process. If not for Nanook's manifestation, the Eternal Centurion would have descended upon Penacony and exterminated all the criminals."
The Dream Master remained silent as his body trembled.
"To survive again and again… and be able to do nothing…"
The messenger ignored his insignificant murmur.
"However, your failure did not culminate in total annihilation. Congratulations. That grants you an opportunity. You may atone for your mistakes and regain the respect the Family lost because of you."
"And how do you intend to do that?" He asked. "What order must I obey? Or is the life I barely preserved the price to be paid?"
"No. Instead, you will be granted a blessing."
The Dream Master raised his gaze.
"We will impose another crime upon you," The messenger continued. "Your wickedness will reach the heavens. Gopher Wood, once praised, will lose all meaning. While your body lives, your spirit will be dead."
The Dream Master closed his eyes.
"If that is the price, I will accept it."
"Not here." She said. "Nor now. You do not yet deserve the honor of merging with the source. First, I will refine you. You will be unable to speak while I open your eyes."
The messenger extended her hand, allowing her energy to flow into the crow.
"Though they may be mistaken for creations of Destruction because of the calamities they bring, I will dispel all doubt about your being." She said. "You will witness the force that gives and takes. The mercy bestowed by the Triple Face. The cancer born of Harmony."
The image of the Stellaron manifested.
"Worship." She commanded. "And learn."
The memory ended. Firefly and the Edict returned to the present as the screen went dark.
"So…" Firefly said. "The Dream Master manipulated the Stellaron by order of the Family?"
The Edict slowly shook his head.
"I would like to say he was 'forced'." He admitted. "But believing that is no different from deceiving oneself. Whatever the Family's true face may be is not what matters here. This was the moment when Gopher Wood stopped following Harmony."
Firefly fell silent for a few moments.
"What would you have done if you had been in his place?"
"I would have betrayed them. But not for any reason other than that the Family is unworthy of obedience."
"Then do you justify what he did afterward?"
"No." Said the Edict. "Understanding is not absolution. Do you believe his crimes are the kind that deserve forgiveness or mercy?"
Firefly remained silent.
"Yes, I didn't think so either." The Edict remarked.
They continued along the path, where they saw an old chair waiting for them at the top of the stairs. Resting upon it was the projection of an elderly man.
"Who is that?" Firefly asked curiously.
"Mikhail Char Legwork." Replied the Edict. "The man who called himself the Watchmaker."
Firefly frowned.
"Was his death the Dream Master fault?"
Instead of answering, the Edict took an object from his pocket.
It was a broken pocket watch, simple in appearance and not at all ostentatious.
"It was one of his most cherished possessions." He said. "He never discarded it. And before disappearing, he gave it to the one he raised as a son. But I do not think now is the time to speak of that. It is better to focus on the memory."
Gopher Wood stood beside the chair.
"I have come for a confession." He said to the sleeping old man. "I know I will receive no answer, but I still need to ask."
He leaned slightly closer.
"What does it feel like to die?" He murmured. "I have already been dead once. It was brief, and in the end I returned to the mortal realm."
He smiled tiredly.
"If you had had my luck… would you have chosen differently?"
He shook his head.
"No." He said softly. "You were always stubborn. Though I suppose you were that way because you were never face to face with an inevitable death."
The Dream Master remained standing beside the chair, his gaze fixed on Mikhail's motionless face.
"I've always wondered whether you would blame me for what I did." He finally said. "Whether, upon awakening from that eternal sleep, you would point to me as the one truly responsible."
He rested a hand on the back of the chair.
"I tried to reveal Xipe's third face. I knew Harmony and Order were not everything. I was convinced the last one had to be Propagation—but I was wrong. That wasn't it."
He lifted his gaze, as if observing something only he could see.
"But fate did not abandon me. In its mercy, it allowed me to grasp a truth." He continued. "The terror caused by Propagation was my answer. The Star-Devouring Swarm made humanity pray to Order for protection while they were ravaged by the deepest fear and despair. The highest point of the Path of Order was none other than the moment when the Swarm was most active across the cosmos."
A brief laugh escaped his lips, tinged with bitterness.
"Then Ena unleashed that war that made it fall from the summit. No one wanted to accept a staircase built on lies." His eyes narrowed. "They were wrong."
He leaned forward slightly.
"The Grand One sought justice. But people never prayed for justice— from beginning to end, the desire behind their prayers was to stop being afraid."
His fingers tightened around the chair.
"That was what we failed to understand."
He raised his eyes one last time to Mikhail's face, and for an instant there was neither arrogance nor certainty in them.
"Would you forgive me?" He asked quietly.
"Would you, Mikhail? My next act will be heresy in my pursuit of repairing the error of the gods. I will restore the missing hand of the celestial clock. I will teach humanity to fear the end, so that it may once again desire Order. I know how abhorrent my actions are. I know each and every one of my sins… and yet, there will be no repentance within me."
He straightened his back, directing his gaze toward the horizon.
"When paradise arrives, this sacrifice will not be forgotten."
The memory unraveled, leaving Firefly and the Edict facing the solitary chair once more.
"He's insane." Firefly said coldly. "Using Propagation as the foundation of his paradise. Restoring the Swarm so people will beg for Order."
Her hands trembled.
"It's repulsive."
"Perhaps that's why he did what he did to that legionary." The Edict replied. "He sought to understand how the legions of Glamoth were endowed with the power of Propagation."
Firefly closed her eyes for a moment, suppressing the anger rising in her chest.
"That power isn't something you can control just by wishing for it." She said as she opened them. "We need to hurry."
As they continued onward, the structure around them began to resonate with echoes of the Dream Master ancient thoughts.
"I have already created paradise… even if no one can recognize it…"
The stairs began to descend.
"In the most beautiful place, they seek pain…"
The voices drew closer.
"Because they believe no one deserves happiness."
At the bottom, two paths opened before them. Two stairways—and between them, a dark corridor that seemed to devour everything.
"Beyond this point lies the antechamber to the main hall." said the Edict. "Here rests the Dream Master final decision. Where to go when one turns their back on Harmony."
Firefly looked at both paths.
"Choose calmly." He continued. "I'll take the opposite one."
She looked at him, confused.
"My choice doesn't matter." He clarified. "I can't change anything. Even if I awakened… what could I do? Perhaps I would offer comfort to the Dream Master. And in my opinion, he doesn't deserve it."
Firefly held his gaze for a few moments.
"Have you chosen differently from him?" She murmured.
"Yes." He replied.
They both contemplated the paths in silence.
"I hope everything turns out well." Firefly said.
"Our paths part here." Said the Edict. "Good luck."
The Dream Master voices echoed one last time as each path began to reveal its nature.
The path on the left became covered in roots, the air filled with a sharp stench like rotting blood, and the hungry screech of the Swarm flooded everything as a deep red light coursed through it.
"May divine fire rain beneath Propagation once more, announcing death with a funeral hymn."
The path on the right glowed with a soft indigo, accompanied by the Choir of the Firmament and prayers laden with hope.
"May the lies of Harmony be revealed before the accusing sword of truth."
Firefly turned toward the left path.
Before disappearing completely, she heard the Edict's voice behind her.
"You walk toward life. I, toward death."
Before losing sight of him, the Edict murmured,
"Only the gods know which path is best."
Firefly clenched her fists.
"Has it already begun…?" She murmured.
She hurled herself into battle, carving a path through the Swarm's cannon fodder as she advanced without stopping toward the door at the end of the path.
And with every step, a single question hammered in her mind.
If the Dream Master plan was already in motion… had she arrived too late to stop him?
.....
Firefly stepped through the door.
The antechamber opened before her, drenched in that acrid liquid soaking the floor and walls alike. Giant roots pierced the structure from every angle, tearing through columns and ceilings. Remains of Swarm Insects lay scattered everywhere—shattered bodies that still seemed to writhe in an incomplete death.
Firefly clenched her teeth.
"This shouldn't be happening yet…"
The sight unsettled her more than she was willing to admit. There was no time to analyze anything. If this scene had already manifested, then the Dream Master's plan was advancing far too quickly.
She ran.
The double doors on the far side of the chamber burst open under her push, revealing the entrance to the main hall. As she crossed the threshold, the whispers grew clearer—no longer disjointed fragments, but fully formed thoughts.
"If I have no other choice."
Firefly moved forward without stopping.
The shrieks of insects echoed from the upper levels. Her hand closed tightly around the activator that kept SAM in a dormant state.
"Then you won't be the exception either."
Another flight of stairs rose before her, leading to yet another set of double doors.
"Live in order to die?"
She took the steps two at a time as a growing sense of dread settled in her chest.
"Receive the secrets of the Stellaron?"
Her thumb trembled slightly over the activator.
"Hunt a Pathstrider of Propagation?"
The echo of those words ran down her spine like an electric shock.
"And thus reproduce the Swarm."
The final doors opened.
"To receive the Grand One."
Firefly entered the main hall.
Putrid blood covered the floor like a dark lake. Light filtered down from the upper dome, passing through shattered stained glass and bathing the center of the hall.
There, floating in midair, was a massive metallic-gray cocoon, suspended by threads that appeared to be made of flesh.
Firefly's eyes trembled.
"There's no doubt…" She murmured. "This is the place."
A voice echoed from ahead.
"That's right."
Firefly lifted her gaze and came face to face with the Edict.
She frowned.
"Then… the other path led here as well?"
"Both did." He replied. "There was no true fork. Only different ways of reaching the same end."
Firefly looked back at the cocoon.
"What is this thing?"
The Edict crossed his arms.
"It is the terror that dwells within humanity's dreams. That which no one dares to consciously remember." He said calmly. "An object born from the union of the knowledge the Dream Master gained by studying the corpse of your fellow legionary, and his understanding of the Stellaron."
He raised his gaze toward the dome.
"This is the Chrysalis of Plague Extinction."
Firefly clicked her tongue.
"And you expect me to believe that all of this is enough to bring back the Star-Devouring Swarm?"
"Hidden at the very peak of the stained glass lies the Dream Master's final stroke." he replied. "The rebirth is prepared."
Firefly shook her head.
"It doesn't matter how he obtained that power." She said firmly. "We have to stop him. Now."
The Edict removed his glasses, wiped them with a white cloth, then placed them back on his face.
"Stop him… or stop me?"
Firefly exhaled slowly.
"As expected. Seems it was right to never trust you."
"I will complete the work. In the name of the Dream Master."
Firefly stared at him, confused.
"Everything you saw along this path wasn't meant for you." The Edict said. "It was meant for me. So that I could judge him—and do you justice."
"That isn't justice." Firefly replied.
"After everything you've experienced on your way to this place, let me ask you, Stellaron Hunter." He said. "Have you ever thought about destiny?"
"Don't use destiny as a convenient excuse to justify your deranged actions." She snapped. "Even if the ending is written, we can still choose how to reach it."
The Edict shook his head.
His eyes opened wide, regarding her with pity.
"Your words are beautiful." He said. "But they are nothing more than foolish self-deception. No one can change the course of events already dictated by fate."
He extended his hand toward her.
"No matter how many times you face a crossroads. No matter how many times you return to the beginning. You will always choose the same. Because your past has already shaped you. Your thoughts inevitably guide you to believe you made the right choice."
He observed her calmly.
"The future has already been defined by what you left behind."
Firefly clenched her fists.
"That legionary tried to flee her destiny." He continued. "And yet she met the same end. In my eyes, you are no different."
"No." Firefly said firmly. "The person standing before you has already rewritten her destiny."
The Edict tilted his head.
"Then accept my deepest condolences." He replied. "Because I know only one way to achieve such a thing. By abandoning your own desires and your path. Only then can you alter not just your destiny, but that of others." His eyes hardened. "But from that moment on, you will have killed yourself. Even if your body lives on, your spirit will be dead."
Firefly stepped forward.
Her gaze did not waver.
"That is the price." She said. "The price paid by those whose greed compels them to defy destiny in pursuit of a better outcome."
Stopping at the center of the room, her eyes met the Edict's.
"Not everyone can afford the luxury of surrendering and raising their hands. With our own eyes, we choose to see the world as it is and bear that weight. That is sacrifice."
The Edict watched her in silence.
"Your conviction is admirable." He finally said.
A faint smile formed on his face.
"And since sacrifice is not an issue… why don't you try stopping my next attack?"
Firefly held the Edict's gaze without taking a single step back.
"It doesn't matter if your attack is inevitable." She said calmly. "I won't move or run. If this paradise you're trying to create demands a death, then it will be mine."
The Edict watched her in silence for a moment.
"Your courage rivals the shine of pure gold—unchanged even as its smelting draws near." He shook his head as he delivered his verdict.
"11:45. Paradise will fall into a world of sorrow, and when dawn arrives, it will shatter in the light of day. Does all that is gold truly preserve its glory forever?"
Firefly did not respond.
"The final remnant of the Empire will behold the true face of Order with its own eyes. And with mortal hands, it will be forced to face the punishment of the Grand One."
His gaze lifted, as if contemplating something distant.
"The insects will once again devour all things…"
SAM's armor responded immediately, deploying around her body as it assumed an optimal combat stance for endurance.
"And fill the hearts of all those who are lost with the deepest of fears…"
The Edict raised both arms in reverence.
"First, there must be someone who unleashes its wrath."
Behind him, the windows began to glow as fine cracks spread alongside the sound of glass creaking.
"All living beings die."
The entire wall gave way along with the windows, shattered by the emergence of a colossal porcelain hand held aloft by massive golden threads.
"And despite everything…"
Firefly turned her head at the disturbing screech of an insect.
The gray metallic cocoon was expanding in spasmodic motions, throbbing with grotesque euphoria. The fleshy threads holding it tautened as the surface began to crack from within, ready to hatch.
"I will pray for my survival."
The Edict's body began to fade from the legs up as blue fire started to consume him.
"I can do that, can't I?"
Soon his lower half was swallowed by the flames.
"However, death will come because you, among the entire multitude…"
The fire reached his torso.
"…are the first to seek life."
Fate closed its premonitions and arrived in due time.
The Mansion of Oaks exploded.
The impact shook space itself. Walls, columns, and stained glass were reduced to incandescent fragments scattered in every direction, as the roar of destruction swallowed any remaining sound.
"Sooner or later, death will reach us all."
************
After a long journey, March, Himeko, and Stelle finally reached the interior of the Grand Theater of Penacony.
March glanced sideways at Stelle.
"Did you let Aleph know, or are we still trusting he'll just show up by magic?"
"He says he's on his way." Stelle replied in her usual flat tone. "He shouldn't be long."
March clicked her tongue.
"Sure. Promises to come with us all the way here and decides to be late. What a surprise… inconsiderate idiot."
They took a few more steps.
"This place gives me the creeps. Why is it so ridiculously empty?" March commented. "And there's still an hour before the Carismonia Festival."
Stelle looked around.
"There's no one here. Not even staff."
"I literally just said that! Weren't you paying attention?"
"Not now, March. There are more important things going on." Stelle replied.
"That's exactly what's worrying." Himeko said. "Stay alert and try to cover each other's blind spots. We need to prevent any possible 'accidents.'"
As they continued deeper into the theater, mannequins began to appear on both sides of the hallway—at the ticket booths and seated in nearby rows—each with different sizes and proportions. Some had slender bodies with a halo suspended behind their heads and small wings sprouting from their necks. Others were shorter, with childlike limbs and large pom-poms on their heads that contrasted with expressionless faces. Some were formed from rigid, angular golden metal plates, while others displayed elongated ears and fur-covered tails.
"This…" March murmured, swallowing hard. "I really don't like this."
"M-March." Stelle said. "L-Look behind you!"
"Ahhh! What?!" But when she turned around, there was absolutely nothing behind her.
When she looked back, Stelle was already laughing.
March shot her a death glare.
"You're unbearable."
She took a step forward and stuck out her foot just as Stelle was walking, sending her face-first into the floor.
This time, March laughed.
"That's not funny." Stelle protested as she got up, pouting at March.
Himeko brought a hand to her forehead.
"I have a very bad feeling about this."
March crossed her arms.
"And Sunday?" She asked. "I thought that if he invited us, he'd want to make some incredible entrance or something—and he doesn't even show up. Such manners."
Stelle looked at her blankly.
"That's what's really bothering you?"
Himeko sighed.
A voice echoed from somewhere nearby.
"What a reception."
March jumped.
"Where are you?" She demanded, casting a suspicious look around. "What are you, some kind of peeping pervert or what?"
There was a brief, awkward silence, soon followed by a tired sigh.
"Behind the red curtain." Sunday replied. "Just a few meters from where you're standing."
The three of them turned.
"In accordance with Asdana's traditions." Sunday continued. "You are invited to witness a play in three acts before the Carismonia Festival begins. The story reflects the true essence of things. Why not take this opportunity to delve a little deeper into the history of Penacony and the Aeons? In it, as you know, the future takes shape."
They exchanged looks, unsure of what to do.
Cautiously, they moved forward and passed through the curtain.
As they did, Sunday's voice began to narrate.
"In the beginning of all things, after the Twilight Wars, Ena the Order emerged—she who restored all existence. That marked the first day."
The stage was revealed before them.
It floated amid an opulent vastness, worthy of the Grand Theater of the Planet of Celebrations. But beauty was absent. Darkness devoured the light, while countless pages torn from a book swirled around it like part of a silent hurricane.
"She gathered nebulae and forged peaks from them." Sunday continued. "She created a great lyre with black and white keys. When she played the white keys, the sun and the stars rose. When she played the black keys, the moon and the other celestial bodies emerged. Thus, day and night were born—marking the second day."
Thousands of mannequins gathered on the stage, bowing and striking their bodies against the ground in reverence.
March swallowed.
"Let's keep watching. I want to see where this is heading."
They advanced toward a solitary frame.
As they approached, its interior opened, revealing a softly rippling blue portal.
"Enter." Sunday said. "And witness the first act of the play… Ode to the Prisoners."
.....
As they passed through the portal, the surroundings dissolved into a dense, silent darkness. There were no recognizable walls or floor—only platforms suspended in the void, connected by narrow spans that forced them to move carefully.
Himeko surveyed the area attentively.
"Ode to the Prisoners…" She murmured. "Do you think this is about Penacony's past?"
March let out a nervous laugh.
"Great. On other Trailblazer expeditions I managed to dodge the law with considerable elegance." She muttered. "Who would've thought that it'd be in Penacony where I, the legendary March 7th, would end up finding my destiny behind bars?"
Stelle clutched her head with both hands, visibly alarmed.
"That makes no sense!" She exclaimed in panic. "I shouldn't be in jail! Unlike you, I'm a kind, helpful, good-hearted girl. I wouldn't hurt a fly!"
March and Himeko looked at her without the slightest hint of conviction.
"Stelle." Himeko said calmly. "You're a professional rule-breaker."
"And a pretty talented one." March added. "If it weren't for General Jing Yuan in the Luofu, you'd have racked up so much debt that not even becoming a long-life species would let you pay it off."
Stelle frowned.
"Shut up!" She shot back. "Without tangible evidence, all of that is just slander against my upright, authority-respecting image."
Sunday's voice echoed once more through the empty space.
"This is the second reason I wished for you to witness this play." He said serenely. "I regret Aleph Avesta's absence. However, my intention remains the same: to prevent an irreparable clash between us. That is why I prepared these three acts before the situation reached a point of no return. Now then… where should I begin?"
There was a brief pause as he reflected, while the three of them advanced across the platforms. As they did, mannequins began to appear along both sides of the path. Their bodies were twisted into pitiful positions—some kneeling, others hunched over—while they were being lashed by similar figures dressed in garments reminiscent of prison guards. Whips descended again and again, frozen in the eternal instant of violence.
Sunday resumed speaking.
"I will begin from before Penacony even bore that name." He said. "When only Asdana existed—the prison planet under the Corporation's dominion."
The whipped mannequins began to writhe with greater violence.
"During the Border War, Hanunue fought for the freedom of all. After a brutal struggle, he emerged victorious and broke the Corporation's yoke. At the end of that war, three Nameless who had supported him chose to remain. They attempted to spread the Trailblazers' principles among the prisoners. But they failed."
The platforms continued to unfold ahead of them.
"Asdana sank back into war. This time not against an external enemy, but against itself. The prisoners kept fighting—not to live in freedom, but to survive it."
The narration slowly faded.
A little farther on, one figure stood out among the mannequins. It was taller than the rest, with a distinctly feminine silhouette. In her left hand she held a whip covered in spikes, and in her right, an ornate-looking crowbar. At her feet, other mannequins writhed on the ground, covering their heads as if trying to shield themselves from an imminent punishment.
The figure tilted her head slightly, as though disdainful of them.
"Are you enjoying your freedom?" She asked in a mocking voice. "Do you like burning in the flames of anarchy?"
Sunday spoke again.
"As you can see, the prisoners obtained their so-called freedom after serving their sentences and driving the guards off the planet. Yet they remained slaves—no longer to external forces, but to the limits of their own minds. Freedom cannot heal the fragile hearts of those who do not believe in it."
The female figure raised her weapon.
"This is my order to you, filthy and pathetic prisoners!" She shouted. "Learn the true meaning of freedom—and teach others to fight for their lives!"
The mannequins rose to their feet in unison.
"No one can imprison us!" They cried together. "Freedom is ours!"
Sunday concluded calmly.
"And with that, the first act comes to an end. The frontier prison then began its transformation. Asdana ceased to be a jail… and became the land of the exiled."
The platforms led toward a final stretch.
Himeko spoke softly.
"It seems Sunday doesn't just want to tell us Penacony's history." She said. "He's placing the emphasis on the prisoners' spiritual afflictions rather than their poor living conditions."
March scratched her head, a bit embarrassed.
"I don't know. This is a little too intellectual for me. But the fights were perfectly clear." She pointed ahead. "Besides, we've already found the exit portal. Let's go."
She turned to call Stelle.
"Come on, Stell—"
She stopped when she saw Stelle struggling with the female figure, trying to wrench the golden crowbar from her grasp.
"Just look at this beauty!" Stelle exclaimed. "This would look amazing in my collection."
Before she could react, March and Himeko grabbed her by the arms.
"Let it go." Himeko said firmly.
"Hey, wait!" Stelle protested as she was dragged away from the mannequin.
...
After passing through another portal, the space transformed once more into a similar dimension. New platforms floated in the darkness.
March frowned and looked around.
"And now what?" She asked. "What's supposed to be the next act?"
Sunday's voice answered as they moved forward.
"They transmuted torrents of stars into inked feathers, creating symbols to speak and to count. They turned stardust into rivers, assigning the waters above to the righteous and those below to the unjust. Thus, all things were marked, and the world came to understand the difference between good and evil. With this, the third and fourth days came to an end."
The platforms began to advance into the gloom, and the curtain rose once more.
"It is time for you to witness the second act of the play. The Ode to the Ignorant."