A pitch-black station.
An upside-down world.
The true land of dreams—Dreamflux Reef.
This wasn't Evan's first time coming here. The last time had been when he had just entered the dream world itself.
Back then, he had slipped directly into the deeper dreamscape, obtained the power of the Trailblaze Path, and even had his first proper confrontation with Gopher Wood.
But this time was different.
This time, nearly the entire raid party was here.
With Gallagher guiding the way, everyone tore through the shattered dreamscape and arrived at the broken station before them.
"There's actually a station here!" March 7th exclaimed the moment she stepped inside. "But it's so run-down… feels like nobody's used it in forever."
She was the first to enter the deeper dream.
Right behind her came Stelle, Acheron, Black Swan, Sparkle, and Firefly.
Only after them did Evan, Welt, Himeko, and Gallagher follow.
The moment the group emerged from the broken dreamscape, the sight before them left them completely stunned.
The Twelve Dreamscapes of Penacony were nothing more than a false paradise built atop the Stellaron.
But this place—
This was Penacony's original form.
Or rather, this was the real Penacony of the past.
"This station really hasn't been used in a very long time," Gallagher said as he stepped forward. "The old man never really told me much, but I'd guess he left it here to commemorate the day he first stepped off the train."
As the one who had invited everyone here, Gallagher couldn't help but feel a little sentimental.
He hadn't spent that much time with the old man. As a Bloodhound, Gallagher's lifespan was only a little over ten years at most.
And yet, even in those short ten-odd years, everything he had seen and heard about the old man's past had left him amazed—and curious.
So when he had sent out the music box, he had wondered:
What if the Nameless old man had been waiting for… turned out to be nothing like the ones he remembered?
Would he have to keep waiting?
Keep lingering in this dream, under the name of a Fictionologist?
It was true that, with that identity and method, he could remain in the dreamscape for a while longer.
But would he really get another chance?
The station at Dreamflux Reef was worn down and desolate.
Everywhere one looked, there was only decay and silence, like an abandoned wasteland where no trace of human life remained.
All around them stood clockie statues of various sizes.
But because no one had cared for them in so long, those cheerful mascots now only made the place feel faintly eerie.
Still, what lingered most strongly wasn't fear.
It was desolation.
A desolation so deep that it was hard to believe this place was also part of Penacony's dream world.
"Desolation… and…"
Acheron tightened her grip on her sword, her voice cold and calm.
"A faint sadness."
As one who had wandered too far into the Path of Nihility, Acheron was especially sensitive to the atmosphere and emotions left behind in a place.
This place carried sorrow.
And regret.
It was completely different from every other dreamscape they had passed through.
In the original script, Acheron was never supposed to step into the deeper dream.
It wasn't false that she could kill Gopher Wood.
But if she did, she would cut apart the entire dreamscape along with him.
After all, even if Acheron wasn't officially an Emanator of Nihility, she had already walked to the very peak of that Path.
Even March, Stelle, Welt, and Himeko couldn't help but feel a quiet heaviness settle over them after arriving here.
"This place…"
Evan looked ahead and spoke softly.
"This is where the three Nameless that Pom-Pom asked us to find are resting."
He had already come here once before and left flowers at their graves.
But he couldn't represent the Astral Express.
Himeko, as the ninth navigator, needed to bring the Nameless here herself.
She needed to stand before them in person, with the crew at her side.
"Everyone, this way," Gallagher said.
The stubbled man took the lead, guiding them deeper into the area.
PenaconyThe Reverie Hotel — Reality
"Son of a nice lady, I swear I'm about one second away from lovingly ventilating your skull!"
"I already told ya—I'm the real Galaxy Ranger! The one who came to Penacony before me was a fake! A fake, got it?!"
At the front desk of the Reverie Hotel, a bizarre cowboy-looking man was pointing a gun at the receptionist.
And yes—he was negotiating.
Not threatening. Not robbing.
Negotiating.
The front desk staff had clearly never seen a guest this ridiculous before. She could only stand there with a pained expression, trying her best to communicate with him.
There were simply too many guests coming to Penacony for the Charmony Festival.
Earlier, a group claiming to be Nameless from the Astral Express had only been allowed to check in because they had a representative from the IPC to vouch for them.
But a Galaxy Ranger?
That was not exactly a reassuring identity in Penacony.
Sure, Galaxy Rangers were known for upholding justice—but to the IPC, nearly every single one of them had a criminal record attached to their name.
Every one of them looked like bad news.
And none of them were easy to deal with.
"I'm very sorry, sir," the receptionist said stiffly, "but according to our check-in records, a Galaxy Ranger has already entered the dreamscape."
"The hell he did!" the cowboy snapped. "I told ya, that guy's fake! A counterfeit! How many times do I gotta say it?!"
The poor receptionist looked like she was one step away from tears.
This lunatic kept waving a gun around every other sentence.
This job was terrifying.
Sure enough, no matter how much Boothill tried to prove his identity, the front desk staff absolutely refused to process his check-in.
"No, no, sir, we're not doubting your identity," the receptionist said quickly. "It's just that with the Charmony Festival so close, Penacony must ensure every guest's safety."
"If it truly can't be helped, you can find someone willing to vouch for you."
"Just like those Nameless earlier."
"Nameless?"
"Why yes, Mr. Galaxy Ranger. That gentleman over there is one of the Nameless who registered not long ago."
"Mr. Dan Heng."
Boothill frowned.
Sure enough, not far away, a young man in teal-colored clothing had just entered his field of vision.
Boothill shot the receptionist one last look, holstered his gun, and strode straight toward Dan Heng.
"Hey, treasure chest—yeah, you! You're one of the Astral Express Nameless, right?"
"...?"
Dan Heng turned and looked at the foul-mouthed stranger with immediate caution.
"I've got some important business to handle," Boothill said. "So I'm gonna need your help in a slightly unconventional way."
"If you know exactly what you're doing," Dan Heng replied flatly, "then you should also know the risk that comes with it."
In one smooth motion, he drew Cloud-Piercer, its spear tip aimed directly at Boothill.
"Whoa, brother," Boothill said, raising his hands slightly. "Why so tense? Pulling a gun's just my way of saying hello."
"One last chance," Dan Heng said coldly. "State your identity and your purpose."
Dan Heng could already tell the man didn't actually harbor any killing intent.
Still, greeting people by pulling a gun on them was a pretty aggressive form of politeness.
Thankfully, Boothill seemed willing to cooperate. He lowered the weapon and finally introduced himself.
"My name's Boothill. I'm a Galaxy Ranger."
"A Galaxy Ranger…"
The Galaxy Rangers had vanished from the universe for far too long.
So long, in fact, that even Jing Yuan had once asked the Astral Express to help make contact with them.
Dan Heng, as a member of the crew, should have stayed aboard the Express to guard it. But this time Pom-Pom had urgently sent him out as well.
Even so, Dan Heng had not entered the dream.
He had remained outside Penacony's dreamscape the whole time, so that if necessary, he could return to the Express at any moment.
And the longer he stayed here, the more something felt wrong.
There were simply too many people invited to Penacony's Charmony Festival this time.
Even the infamous Annihilation Gang had received an invitation.
Dan Heng had originally planned to head back to the train and investigate what exactly the Family had been doing over the years.
Instead, he'd run into this self-proclaimed Galaxy Ranger.
"What, that surprised look on your face means you thought we were all dead?" Boothill laughed. "Yeah, yeah, I know. That's the problem with disappearing too long."
"The Galaxy Rangers are righteous wanderers," Dan Heng said coolly. "They don't go around pointing guns at Nameless from the Astral Express."
"I ain't hijacked you yet," Boothill shot back. "If I pull a gun and have a chat, that counts as kidnapping now?"
You call this chatting?
Dan Heng slowly lowered Cloud-Piercer, though only halfway. At this point, he was maybe seventy percent convinced of the man's identity.
But his guard didn't drop in the slightest.
"With all due respect," Dan Heng said, "there have been many rumors about the current state of the Galaxy Rangers. None of them are good."
"I have no reason to trust you."
Boothill barked out a laugh.
"Those idiots keep making up crazier stories every year. Heard one say the whole lot of us got turned into orangutans by Dr. Primitive and now we're swingin' around some backwater jungle."
"Of course, I know you ain't gonna believe me."
"So by the same logic, I can't exactly trust that you lot are real Nameless either."
He tapped the cylinder of his gun with a finger.
"See the bullet in here? Nine millimetres. A classic."
"Right now I need the Astral Express's help. But if you're all fake just like that other guy…"
He clicked his tongue.
"Then that bullet might end up lodged in my head instead."
"I can't exactly throw myself into danger without making sure first, can I?"
"So you'll need to prove yourselves fir—hey! Where the hell are you going?!"
Dan Heng ignored him completely and turned around, heading straight for the Astral Express.
Boothill, naturally, wasn't having that.
He immediately ran after Dan Heng.
"Hey! Hey, wait up!"
"Where're you goin'? Take me with you!"
"You still gotta prove your identity to me, damn it!"
"Hey!!"
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