In the Honkai: Star Rail universe—aboard the Stellaron Hunters' ship.
Silver Wolf's slender fingers flew across a virtual keyboard. She kept running Aether Editing analysis on the "Secondary Silverwing" clone, while countless intricate streams of data cascaded around her like a waterfall.
"Tch…"
She clicked her tongue. The clone had her own employee badge hanging at her chest, but the text on it was clearly written in a language Silver Wolf didn't recognize.
Not a problem.
A faint, disdainful curve lifted the corner of Silver Wolf's mouth as her fingertips typed out a string of complex commands on the floating screen.
"Decrypt it for me," she snapped.
Instantly, the symbols on the badge twisted, reorganized, and recompiled into text she could read.
"Oh?"
Her brows rose, surprise brightening her face.
"So this version of me is actually a game developer?"
"If you really are my counterpart… heh. Knew it."
A chip was pinched free from the clone's body by a strand of data—lifted out neatly, like plucking a card from a deck.
Its specifications were obviously incompatible with mainstream tech in this universe, but that didn't matter. Aether Editing could brute-force anything.
Silver Wolf loaded the chip's contents into her terminal at once. A virtual screen popped up with a game program titled Arahato, a folder labeled as an unfinished worldbuilding bible, and a few scattered log entries.
"I knew it. Of course she'd carry these treasures on her. That's my style."
Unable to contain herself, she opened the development logs and sales reports and skimmed them at breakneck speed.
"Hah? 'Sales dismal, market response lukewarm,' 'sequel plan shelved, artbook publication unlikely'?"
Her lips puckered into a pout, a thread of secondhand gloom surfacing for her parallel self.
"That's… brutal."
"Heh. Easy to see coming," Sam teased from the side, having watched the whole process.
"Your own gaming skills are pretty average, you know."
Silver Wolf immediately bristled.
You could mock her hacking and she'd shrug it off with a grin, but calling her bad at games was a direct hit. She whipped her head around and glared up at the towering mech.
"Hey! That's because I wasn't using my real strength, alright?! When I'm serious, I'm insane!"
"Your 'real strength' being hacking the game server and changing the numbers?" Sam's voice stayed level—calm, precise, and perfectly aimed at her sore spot.
Silver Wolf puffed her cheeks, indignant.
"If you don't get caught, it's not cheating! It's technical optimization of the gaming experience! Whatever—there's no point talking to a mech-brain that only understands firepower and area denial!"
She spun back around, attention snapping to the chip again.
"Not wasting breath on you. I'm going to see just how terrible this game is—how she ended up this miserable!"
The codebase of the game was totally incompatible with the ship's mainstream operating system and hardware.
But Silver Wolf's fingers danced. Complex commands spilled across the screen as she roughly stitched together a temporary runtime environment.
The virtual display flickered—and the Arahato boot screen was forcibly dragged into existence. The frame rate wobbled a little, but it was playable.
Right then, Kafka strolled over, heels tapping the floor with crisp, unhurried rhythm.
Her gaze swept over Silver Wolf, absorbed in her game, and Sam standing by on standby. She spoke lazily:
"Everyone. In a bit, the group owner will come by to take a look."
At Kafka's words, Silver Wolf switched the game interface into the same privacy mode as the chat—visible only to her.
Then she replied while playing at the same time, running both without missing a beat.
"Oh? You mean that group owner? The one whose strength is suspected to be Aeon-level… maybe even beyond?"
Even Silver Wolf was genuinely interested in an existence that might exceed an Aeon.
Kafka smiled and nodded.
"Not fully confirmed. So when the group owner arrives, it'll be a good chance for everyone to feel it firsthand and judge for themselves. Seeing is believing."
"Do we invite him to join the Stellaron Hunters?" Sam's steady synthesized voice rumbled. "If his power could be used for our cause…"
Kafka shook her head gently. Her smooth violet hair swayed with the motion.
"Sam. We gather under Elio and help fulfill the script because each of us wants something from that script."
"But this group owner…"
She paused, her expression turning deeper.
"He has lived too long. Can we Stellaron Hunters offer what he needs? I doubt we could even guess what he wants."
"And besides—even if he were willing to join. If his strength were ordinary, maybe he could fit into the script."
"But if he truly has power approaching an Aeon's… or above…"
She turned her face slightly, eyes flicking toward Silver Wolf with a hint of mischief.
"Just like you back then. Your power was too strong, and it caused unpredictable disturbances to fate itself. In the end, Elio had to temporarily take part of your power away before you could blend into the script smoothly. Right, O Wolf-Lord of Punklorde?"
Silver Wolf was grinding her teeth at a clumsy level design choice in Arahato, fingers hammering the virtual controls—either forcing her way through or preparing to rip open the game's underlying code.
At Kafka's teasing, she only made a vague sound in acknowledgement. She'd heard it. She just couldn't be bothered to respond.
Kafka didn't mind. Her calm gaze swept the room.
Once she confirmed no one had objections or questions, Kafka tapped her chat interface with a graceful fingertip and approved Aisen's group-traversal request.
A figure appeared in the middle of the room without warning—like he'd been standing there all along.
He was an extremely ordinary-looking man, the kind you could toss into a crowd and never find again.
The instant he appeared, Silver Wolf reflexively paused her private game window.
Sam's optical sensors flared brighter by an entire level.
In the corner, the black cat—Elio—stood up with quiet elegance and fixed its eyes on the newcomer.
Kafka's smile didn't change, but she found the group owner's appearance even more absurd than the photo Ling had sent.
It was a kind of rule-level ordinariness. Even a Masked Fool—master of disguise and performance—might not be able to reproduce something this perfectly natural.
Kafka broke the silence first, taking on the role of introducer with polished ease.
She gestured to the still-stunned Silver Wolf.
"Group owner—this is Silver Wolf. An indispensable core member of the Stellaron Hunters, responsible for our hacking work."
Silver Wolf minimized the game window, lifted a hand, and waved casually as a greeting.
"Yo. You're the group owner, right? Heard you're always dropping in on other worlds?"
Her eyes shimmered with eager curiosity.
"If you run into any fun games out there, tell Kafka. Have her buy them from that world for me. Thanks."
Aisen's gaze landed on Silver Wolf. He nodded, and a mild, warm smile surfaced on his face.
"Oh. You like games? Got it. I'll keep an eye out."
Kafka then gestured elegantly toward the white mech beside them.
"This is Sam—our firepower specialist. With her around, you always feel at ease."
"Every time Sam goes on a mission, it's a spectacle," Silver Wolf chimed in on cue. "Explosions and rubble are basically standard issue."
Sam's head turned toward Silver Wolf, as if silently projecting a tired, helpless look.
Then it turned back to Aisen. The massive helmet dipped slightly, and a low, steady synthesized voice said:
"Hello."
Unlike Silver Wolf, Sam made no request. He was composed to the point of stoicism.
Aisen nodded in return.
His gaze lingered on the mech for a moment—and he saw it: a soul that was incomplete at the level of origin.
This incompleteness wasn't an injury acquired later. It was a defect present from the very first moment the lifeform was constructed—something that could not heal on its own.
Or, put another way: a deliberately designed backdoor.
Unlike the world Aisen currently resided in, and unlike many of the worlds his group members came from, Kafka's universe was vast enough to feel… spacious.
Here, he could stretch his hands and feet a little.
He wasn't like he'd been in Ling's world, where he could only reach in from outside the world and force time backward with the First Flame.
To grant her a flawless living form with the Authority of "Rebirth"…
Or to rewind and anchor her time with the Authority of "Light"…
Several effortless solutions flickered through Aisen's mind—ways to resolve Sam's problem in an instant.
But the thought passed as quickly as it came.
In Elio's script, what role did this incompleteness on Sam's body actually play?
A key piece on the board?
Or an obstacle that had to be overcome?
In a grand narrative that sought to cross beyond the End, was the timing of Sam's physical collapse—and the process of her recovery itself—an indispensable node in the script?
He would need to find an opportunity later to confirm privately with Kafka, and see whether they wanted his intervention at all.
Last, Kafka's eyes turned to the black cat, sitting elegantly, silently observing everything.
"And this," she said, "is our scriptwriter—fate's slave: Elio."
Aisen's gaze shifted to Elio. His face showed no surprise.
After all, in the world of the First Flame, he'd met more than one white cat that could speak.
"Hello, Elio."
His tone was casual—like he was greeting an old friend.
Elio's catlike eyes studied Aisen quietly.
A few seconds later, it gave a tiny nod—an acknowledgement.
Kafka added one final note.
"There's one more member—Blade. But he's currently in a quiet room, fully focused on suppressing the mara within him. He can't come out to meet you right now. Please forgive us."
Aisen nodded again to show understanding.
What was mara?
Not important.
In a moment like this, a nod of respect for the other party's situation was enough.
With introductions complete, the atmosphere was—surprisingly—cordial.
Aisen didn't waste time on small talk. He went straight to the point.
"Then I'll take a look at your world's state and see whether I can use the First Flame to rewind time."
He looked to Kafka, asking permission with his eyes.
Kafka made an elegant "go ahead" gesture, her smile unchanged.
"We're quite curious about your methods, too."
Aisen nodded, then released his perception.
A moment later, he looked almost… bemused.
"Looks like…" His voice carried a hint of surprise.
"Your world doesn't really need me as a last-resort safety net, does it?"
"Oh?" Silver Wolf immediately perked up. She stepped closer, her whole face practically screaming, Tell me. Now.
"Your world already has a pretty comprehensive fail-safe system," Aisen said.
His gaze reached toward the boundless void—the final destination of all memory: Shanjian Heaven. He confirmed that, at this moment, Fuli—the Aeon of Remembrance—was nothing but an empty shell.
"When the entire galaxy faces a catastrophe of total annihilation, the deaths of countless lives generate immeasurable pain, regret, and obsession…"
He paused, searching the universe's underlying information for the proper terminology.
"That produces an ocean of memetic substance—enough to let a flawless vessel briefly bear and exercise the Authority of Fuli, forcibly rewinding the entire universe to a relatively safe node."
"And if even Fuli's memory-rewind fail-safe is breached…"
His eyes seemed to turn toward the far end of the river of time.
"Then all living beings' ultimate unwillingness—everyone's refusal to die at the very last moment—will converge into a torrent."
"It will push a being chosen by fate to be crowned, with all eyes upon them, as the End-King."
Aisen's gaze settled back on Elio, quietly sitting nearby.
"Bearing the final cries and hopes of every dead soul in the universe, it will move against time—forcing corrections, erasing the key event nodes that lead to destruction."
"It will strangle the future of ruin at its source."
"At the very least, it will ensure that Fuli's memory-based fail-safe can activate normally and reshape the world."
Aisen withdrew his gaze, rubbed his chin, and concluded:
"Honestly, I think your universe is still in a very healthy state. Compared to the world I came from—where we clung to an almost-extinguished First Flame and could end at any moment—this place is far more stable."
Then his tone shifted, carrying a trace of emotion.
"Of course, that 'healthy' appearance exists only because you're carrying the weight and moving forward."
Kafka shook her head lightly. Her smile remained elegant, but a subtle heaviness seeped through.
"The galaxy looks stable, but if we slip at even one key node, the whole system could collapse instantly—shattering into ruin."
"And by then, even Fuli's rewind and the End-King's reverse-time correction might not be able to save it."
"After all…"
Her voice turned more serious.
"Every Aeon writes a script according to the Path they command. In their scripts, the survival of the world may be a footnote at best—perhaps even a necessary sacrifice to reach their goal."
"And besides…"
Kafka's eyes moved to Elio as she continued.
"The End-King's power has limits. It is born from the End, and its sight can only encompass everything on the timeline where it exists—the line that leads to termination."
"It can see the key points that cause destruction, but it doesn't know how to guide the galaxy into a truly good ending."
"If we want the galaxy to genuinely cross beyond the shadow of the End, relying on the power of the End Path itself… is not enough."
She paused, then looked straight into Aisen's eyes—bright, intent.
"Just as you once said: power that belongs inside a world cannot fully save that world."
"We aren't seeking to survive one crisis."
"We want to end the cycle."
"And you—an outside variable, someone from beyond the world—might help us find a possibility where the world will never again face an End crisis."
"A possibility where the End-King, that Aeon… will never need to be born."
Aisen listened to Kafka's clear, methodical analysis. He scratched the back of his head unconsciously, looking like someone whose horizons had just expanded.
This was the first time he'd encountered a world whose "upper layer" was this much of a multi-headed monster.
"So that's what you mean."
"Crossing beyond the End doesn't mean barely dodging destruction once…"
"It means ensuring the Aeon of the End is never born."
"It means the world completely breaking free of this loop of destruction and reboot…"
He met Kafka's gaze openly.
"Honestly, Kafka—I don't know if I can help."
"After all, I didn't manage to save the world of the First Flame."
"But…"
His voice hardened with resolve.
"When you need it, I will act."
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 120)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 100)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League (Chapter 100)
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter89)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter86)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter63)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter75)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 53
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 57
From Junkman to Wasteland 35
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 26
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