"So, what exactly does 'Honkai' mean?"
"I'm not sure either, but it doesn't sound like a good thing."
"Could it be a disaster even worse than demons?"
"Heh… Now you've got me curious."
Shinazugawa Sanemi crossed his arms, his posture relaxed in stark contrast to the other Hashira, who sat rigidly with tension. A few minutes earlier, the sky had split open, prompting their master to urgently summon them for discussion. At first, they thought it might be the Blood Demon Art of one of the Upper Moons, but now, it seemed far more complicated.
The night wind grew colder, rustling through the withered leaves of the forest, further tightening the nerves of the Hashira. Soon after, a messenger crow arrived from the foot of the mountain with news—not only the Demon Slayer Corps, but even ordinary civilians could see the anomaly in the sky.
Kochou Shinobu's heart eased slightly. Whatever the outcome of this celestial phenomenon, good or bad, at least it isn't a targeted attack on the Demon Slayer Corps.
"Everyone… perhaps… cough… the key does not lie in the word 'Honkai.'"
From the shadows of the room, a frail, sickly man slowly emerged, supported by his wife and daughter, before sitting before the gathered Hashira.
"Greetings, Oyakata-sama."
The Hashira knelt in unison, paying their respects. Once the formalities were over, the strongest among them, the Stone Hashira Himejima Gyomei, clasped his hands together, tears streaming down his face.
"Oyakata-sama, do you believe this is Kibutsuji Muzan's scheme?"
The man coughed twice before shaking his head slowly.
"No… I fear this has nothing to do with Muzan at all…"
He raised his head toward the Celestial Screen. While they had been speaking, the scenery within the screen had shifted once more. After the initial large characters faded away, it revealed a vast, lonely starscape, countless stars twinkling within, stirring a sense of awe in all who beheld it.
But this only confirmed his suspicions.
"I fear… that beyond this screen lies another world."
——
[The scene shifts—a massive space station stands amidst the boundless cosmos.]
[Accompanied by the melancholic strains of a violin, the camera transitions from the void of space into the interior of the station, where the graceful figure of a woman in a suit comes into view—the lens perfectly framing Kafka's chest.]
"Oh, this is—"
The sheer impact of the sudden imagery made Stark jolt upright.
Frieren glanced back at him, a knowing smirk playing on her lips… but what sent a chill down his spine was the icy aura radiating from the girl beside him.
A certain genius magical girl, cheeks puffed in indignation, subconsciously straightened her posture before shooting him a look of utter disdain.
Stark's expression stiffened before he forced an awkward smile.
"Uh… Fern…"
"Hmph." Fern tightened her grip on her clothes, turning her head away as she subtly inched half a step closer to Frieren.
"...Pervert."
——
[At this moment, the beautiful woman's figure gradually became clearer, allowing billions across different dimensions and civilizations to fully appreciate her exquisite features.]
[This purple-haired beauty possessed a figure so perfect it seemed to drip with allure—her black high-waisted shorts and black coat framed a white blouse, the stark contrast between black and white accentuating her ample curves, further emphasized by the snug restraint at her collar.]
[Her legs, long and shapely, were clad in deep purple stockings that perfectly hugged her thighs, the slight pressure from her garters adding to their appeal. Each step she took in her heeled boots sent a crisp, rhythmic click echoing through the space, striking straight at the hearts of onlookers.]
[In this instant, men and women, young and old, across entirely different worlds, all felt the same stirring in their hearts—especially given the woman's unmistakable mature charm, which left them utterly spellbound.]
[Then, the scene shifted once more—numerous Voidrangers materialized out of thin air, descending upon the space station and attacking its personnel.]
[The urgent blare of alarms clashed with the melancholic violin, creating a surreal dissonance amidst the chaos.]
"Is this an invasion of the Abyss?" A warrior from Natlan asked bluntly. They had never seen such a strange structure before, but the way these monsters attacked and appeared bore an uncanny resemblance to the Abyss.
They even looked similarly grotesque—just far more ferocious.
"It seems this isn't within Teyvat's borders. Could it be…?" Mavuika nearly mentioned the "False Sky" before catching herself, realizing that Citlali and other Natlan natives were present.
Though information about the False Sky was scarce, it didn't stop her from speculating—Could this metallic space station exist beyond Teyvat?
While the concept of a space station was foreign to her, the chaos within was all too familiar. The struggle between humans and monsters had played out on Natlan's soil for millennia, and as the Pyro Archon, no one understood how to slay demons better than she did.
Mavuika narrowed her eyes, lost in thought.
Could the resistance of these humans from another world offer any insights for Natlan?
——
[BOOM!]
[A deafening explosion resounded—Kafka's graceful movements came to an abrupt halt as the entire space station trembled, its lights shifting to an emergency red.]
["Seems I've come at a bad time," Kafka sighed.]
["No, I'd say your timing is perfect."]
[A screen flickered to life before Kafka, displaying a stylized wolf's head as a cheerful girl's voice rang out from within.]
"Oh? It can produce sound? What fascinating magic… Wait, Jayce—if we adjust the oscillation frequency of Hextech crystals, could we replicate this kind of long-distance communication?"
"Using technology to achieve what magic does… It's not unimaginable, is it?"
Viktor's previously gloomy expression brightened slightly as he considered the potential applications of Hextech beyond weaponry. After finally gaining control over Hextech crystals, he and Jayce had focused on improving the lives of Piltover and the Undercity. The idea of instantaneous communication across distances, as shown on the screen, captivated him.
Jayce, who had been standing before a chalkboard for nearly an hour, sat down wearily, chuckling. "Makes sense, Viktor. But your idea… heh, it's insane. We might just blow up the lab."
Viktor picked up a piece of chalk, correcting a calculation on the board before grinning confidently. "As long as it doesn't explode, right? Isn't it our duty as scientists to pave the way for humanity's progress?"
——
[The screen shifted again, now showing Kafka and Silver Wolf in conversation.]
["Will this mission at least be fun? The last few were so boring," Silver Wolf's voice carried a hint of anticipation.]
["Sorry, today's task is dull—just placing the target inside. But if you want to have some fun, I won't stop you. After all…"]
[The space station's door slid open as Kafka strolled in leisurely. Three Voidrangers turned to face her, curious about the intruder—until Kafka suddenly whipped out two submachine guns.]
[A deafening barrage of gunfire erupted, purple lightning crackling as the three Voidrangers were instantly reduced to dust.]
This seamless fusion of blade and firearm—the ultimate marriage of melee and ranged combat—once again stunned a certain shut-in deity from Teyvat.
"Yae, can Fontaine's weapons achieve this level of firepower?" Raiden Ei wasn't shocked by Kafka's impeccable swordsmanship, but rather by the sheer destructive force of those two submachine guns.
"Fontaine has guns, but they're flintlocks—nowhere near as powerful as what that woman is wielding," Yae Miko mused, clicking her tongue in fascination. "What marvelous craftsmanship. I'm quite intrigued."
If we had weapons like these 500 years ago during the Cataclysm, would we have needed to fight tooth and nail against the Abyss? We could've just mowed down those Rifthounds from 800 meters away!
The best part? These weapons seemed to require little skill or training—even ordinary people could use them.
Though Inazuma had enjoyed centuries of peace, Ei, as its archon, hadn't spent all her time indulging in milk dumplings and light novels. She understood the importance of preparation. Her eyes lowered slightly as her resolve solidified.
She turned to the pink-haired fox beside her, who was happily munching on fried tofu, and cleared her throat.
"Yae… I was thinking—could we purchase some Fontaine flintlocks and have the Amakuni smiths study them? Maybe they could replicate those guns Kafka is using."
Yae Miko: "???"
Turn flintlocks into submachine guns? What kind of nonsense is this? And you want blacksmiths to do it?!
A drop of chili oil went down the wrong pipe. Yae Miko's face turned red as she coughed violently, covering her mouth.