Aboard the Astral Express,
"This was such an unusually smooth trailblazing trip!
We didn't even get wanted this time.
If only every journey could be like this!" March 7th sighed contentedly.
Having just returned from the snow-covered planet, the crew was taking a breather.
Stelle was fiddling with her newly acquired Flame Lance, while her once-beloved baseball bat lay discarded to the side.
Ah, what a fickle girl!
Meanwhile, Welt was using the remnants of his Herrscher authority to cobble together a miniature Creation Engine—after all, he couldn't just casually craft the real thing anymore.
He was having so much fun that none of his usual dignified demeanor remained.
Truly, men never outgrow their boyish hearts.
Soon, the Express finished recharging, its Trailblaze energy surging forth to fuel its next voyage.
Pom, with his tiny hands clasped behind his back, pattered down the corridor on his little feet, doing his best to look as authoritative as possible.
"All passengers, please prepare for the warp jump!
Next stop—Penacony!"
But just as they were about to depart for their next destination—yet another problem reared its head!
"In the original course of history, a Stellaron was destined to erupt soon on the Xianzhou Luofu.
Quite the unforeseen calamity, wouldn't you say?" Kafka's projection appeared inside the Express, her voice languid and elegant.
"The prophecy of Destiny's Slave? But that was merely the original timeline. History has already changed," Welt countered, stepping forward with his cane to shield the others.
"Now? Fate has grown unpredictable. It might turn worse—or better. Who knows? Pure chaos!"
"I'm merely here to offer a suggestion.
Whether you go or not is entirely up to you."
With that, her projection vanished without another word.
Leaving the five members of the Express crew (plus Pom) staring at each other in bewilderment.
After a moment, Himeko spoke up. "Everyone, should we follow the Stellaron Hunters' suggestion and head to the Xianzhou Luofu?
We still have some time before Penacony's Harmony Gala."
"I'm in!
Just earlier, I saw myself learning swordsmanship on the Xianzhou in Scott's video!
There's gotta be something fun there!" March 7th exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over at the mere thought of visiting the Xianzhou.
After all, it was a chance to fulfill her dream of becoming a heroic warrior.
Soon, she was lost in fantasies of dual-wielding swords and roaming the martial world as a righteous heroine!
"Indeed, any destination is worthy of exploration on a Trailblazing journey.
Besides, I wouldn't mind meeting that merchant 'Luocha' on the Luofu," Welt mused, visibly intrigued—though mostly because he wanted to see that face that had once left such an impression on him.
Here's hoping he wasn't just judging by appearances!
When it was Stelle's turn to answer, she said with absolute seriousness, "Kafka wouldn't harm me.
I'll go too!"
"You really trust those Stellaron Hunters a lot, huh?" March 7th teased.
Stelle gave her a puzzled look, unable to fathom why she wouldn't trust her own mother.
Once everyone had stated their reasons, all eyes turned to the silent, stoic "Cold Dragon Young"—Dan Heng—who instinctively took a step back under their collective gaze.
Sensing his reluctance, Himeko, as the navigator, understood that Dan Heng likely had some unresolved history with the Xianzhou.
She quickly intervened:
"The Astral Express still needs someone to stay behind and guard it.
This time, Dan Heng and I will remain onboard while Welt leads the rest of you to the Xianzhou."
"Woohoo!" March cheered.
"Since all passengers are ready—initiating warp jump to the Xianzhou Luofu!" Pom announced.
...
Somewhere in the Stellaron Hunters' Possibly-Nonexistent Headquarters
Amidst scattered piles of crumpled paper, a small black cat lay sprawled in defeat atop the mess.
"Elio, the Astral Express has already set course for the Xianzhou Luofu.
According to the script, Blade and I should head there soon too," Kafka reported as she approached, having just hacked into the Express to relay her message with Silver Wolf's help.
At the word "script," the previously lifeless cat suddenly bristled like it had been electrocuted!
"Don't even mention scripts right now!
How am I supposed to write anything in this mess?"
Kafka glanced at the shredded papers littering the floor and the poor cat's exhausted paws, feeling a pang of sympathy—writing so much with tiny claws couldn't have been easy!
"Even you… have no idea about that light screen in the sky?"
The black cat rolled its eyes. "Not even the Aeons know what that thing is—how would I?"
"All I know is that it's completely scrambled my script.
Nothing but chaos ahead now…"
"So our original script is useless… Does that mean you've written a new one?"
The cat shook its head. "No more scripts.
The threads of fate are a complete disaster now—just look at Jarilo-VI.
Nothing went according to plan."
"Though we still guided them toward the Xianzhou eventually, this time they speedran everything and arrived way earlier than intended."
"True.
Originally, I wasn't supposed to rush to the Astral Express like this—yet here we are, barely making it in time," Kafka agreed.
"Elio, what should our next move be?" Silver Wolf chimed in, chewing bubblegum while gaming on her phone.
(Oh right—followed by the ever-silent Blade lurking behind her.)
"Firefly has already infiltrated Penacony ahead of us, so it's just the four of us for now.
We'll relay updates to her once it's safe," Silver Wolf added without looking up from her game.
Elio mournfully eyed the shredded paper scraps—the fruits of his long labor—before leaping nimbly onto the table and addressing the four seated on the couch:
"Stick to Version 1 of the script for now.
Since fate is currently unpredictable, as long as we keep the main plot points intact, minor deviations don't matter!"
"And who knows?
That light screen might even broadcast our script for all to see.
So be ready to improvise on the spot!"
"Oh, and one more thing…"
"Stay safe out there."
As the Astral Express embarked on its journey, the Stellaron Hunters—ever watchful—began their own performance on the grand stage of the cosmos, adhering faithfully (more or less) to their script.