The universe is vast. There are too many things beyond my understanding.
Dan Heng shook his head, deciding not to dwell on the bizarre way that Fragmentum soldier had died.
True, the death had been strange—but it was still just a low-level soldier. Maybe it had fallen victim to some kind of trick or illusion. In any case, not worth overanalyzing.
Dan Heng dismissed the thought.
The more pressing concern was still protecting the space station from excessive damage and rescuing the researchers who hadn't yet been evacuated.
With that in mind, he turned to the others—Yevenko and March 7th, who was still happily petting Tom—and said calmly:
"March 7th, Yevenko, let's move."
March 7th stood up, freshly energized from her cat therapy, any trace of previous fatigue completely gone.
Beaming, she declared, "No problem!"
"I feel unstoppable right now. I'm definitely going to take out more Fragmentum soldiers than you, Dan Heng!"
Dan Heng simply shook his head, arms crossed. "I was never competing with you."
When Yevenko didn't respond, Dan Heng glanced over—only to see him standing still.
"…Something wrong?"
After a short pause, Yevenko smiled. "Sorry. I think I need to head off on my own for a bit. Let's split up."
Dan Heng opened his mouth to ask why—but stopped himself.
He remembered Yevenko's strange predictive ability. And given Tom's unpredictable powers, their antics might catch March or him off guard mid-fight, affecting judgment and slowing their efficiency.
After a moment of thought, Dan Heng nodded.
"Alright. We'll regroup later."
March 7th looked thoughtful. Then she pulled out a phone and held it out to Yevenko. "This is my old one. Asta's working on restoring comms after that pulse knocked them out. Shouldn't be long before we can contact each other again—use this to meet back up."
Yevenko didn't hesitate and took it. "Thanks."
March 7th shook her head and smiled warmly.
"We're already way past the point of thanking each other for little stuff like this."
"See you later, Yevenko—and you too, Tom!"
She waved cheerfully. Dan Heng gave a nod of farewell, and the two headed through the corridor to the right.
As the hatch slid closed behind them, their figures disappeared from Yevenko's view.
Splitting off had been a deliberate choice.
He remembered vaguely that in the original storyline, Kafka and Silver Wolf arrived at the station around this time—but he hadn't bothered to memorize the exact moment.
Still, he could take a chance and head to the surveillance control room. This might be his shot to encounter them—and more importantly, earn a [Star Rail Pass].
He figured the odds were decent.
Earlier, he had made sure to study the station's layout. March and Dan Heng were following a fixed route to clear enemies, and that route wouldn't take them near the control room until later.
Right now, all he had to do was take the left corridor. He'd be there shortly. But if he followed March and Dan Heng to the right, he'd just end up bumping into the freshly awakened Stellaron entity—same as the main plot.
Yevenko exhaled slowly and murmured:
"It's about time I found the courage to fight."
In his last life, he'd been an unremarkable shut-in with nothing going for him but a decent face. Facing real monsters like these Fragmentum grunts wasn't something he could do easily.
Which was why, during earlier battles, he'd been slowly prepping himself—getting psychologically ready, inching closer to the front lines, even touching the corpses of defeated enemies.
Now, he felt… ready.
He tried to calm the tension in his chest.
Just then, Tom clambered onto his shoulder. With his soft white-gloved paw, he gently stroked Yevenko's hair.
A strange warmth surged through Yevenko.
And just like that, the fear vanished. He smiled.
"…Thanks, Tom."
"This time, let's fight together—no fear."
At those words, a soft glow shimmered before him. [Tom's Fencing Rapier] appeared, materializing in his grip.
He took it, tightened his hold, and marched toward the left-side hatch.
---
Surveillance Control Room.
A gray-haired girl stood dazed and empty-eyed, staring blankly at the violet-haired woman in front of her.
The woman wore sunglasses atop her head, her features striking and precise. Her pale pink eyes were unreadable, and a faint smile curled her lips—charming, but not without danger.
She wore a crisp white shirt that hugged her figure closely, accentuating every alluring curve, and a black leather jacket thrown casually over her shoulders—giving her the look of a high-fashion icon.
Her voice was soft, silky, and filled with a subtle, teasing allure as she spoke gently to the dazed girl.
"Just listen to me…"
Apparently, she'd been talking for some time. A second girl nearby—silver-haired, tied in a single side-ponytail—walked over impatiently.
Her youthful figure still carried the awkwardness of adolescence. She wore a mix of hip-hop and punk: blue jacket, short black camisole, exposed legs beneath casual shorts. A hint of playful temptation without even trying.
Blowing a bubble of gum, she asked flatly, "Kafka, how long are you gonna keep talking? We can't stay here forever."
Kafka shifted her eyes slightly, her pale pink gaze dancing. "I know, Silver Wolf. Just a little longer. I'm almost done."
She turned back to the gray-haired girl and continued in that same dreamy voice.
"Just listen…"
BOOM—————!
A sudden explosion rang out just outside the control room.
Kafka's brow furrowed faintly. Silver Wolf immediately turned toward the door, alert.
"Someone's coming."
Kafka pressed her lips into a soft line, mildly regretful. She still had more to say—but none of it was urgent.
She whispered, "Sleep now, sleep…"
The gray-haired girl's eyelids grew heavy at those words, and she slowly slipped into unconsciousness.
At that very moment, the hatch burst open—and a Fragmentum soldier flew into the room like a balloon.
It hovered in the air for a second before deflating and fluttering pathetically to the ground.
Silver Wolf and Kafka both stared at the flattened creature in silence.
Then—
A tall, handsome, strikingly refined, impossibly well-groomed young man walked in through the doorway…
With a cat.