Chapter 180: A Chill Down the Neck, Sensing a Major Crisis
Firefly's gaze flickered, her fingers lightly brushing the edge of her sleeve. "I want to ask you something," she murmured, her voice carrying a rare, tentative edge. She paused, weighing her next words carefully. "Do you... currently have the authority to give orders to a Lord Ravager?"
Rekka offered a slow, deliberate nod.
Just as expected.
Firefly didn't gasp. She didn't recoil in shock. Instead, the subtle tension bracketing her eyes simply melted away, replaced by a quiet breath of relief at his affirmative answer.
Ever since Rekka had crashed into the picture, the concept of 'Finality' felt like a crumpled-up draft tossed into the wastebin. No matter how wildly the plot derailed, it would never reach that doomed conclusion. Finality still existed, yes, but it had been indefinitely delayed.
That was exactly why Elio's script had explicitly warned her: Never interfere with his choices.
"How are you feeling, superstar?" Sparkle skipped over, her twin tails bouncing as she leaned in close to Robin. "First off, let me offer a teeny-tiny apology. Your whole 'death' thing was just a teensy little misunderstanding! But..." The masked girl tilted her head, a sly grin spreading across her face. "You don't seem angry anymore?"
Standing amidst the rusted, melancholic ruins of Dreamflux Reef, Robin finally witnessed the hidden, ugly underside of the glittering dreamscape. Having been away from Penacony for so many years, the true state of affairs had eluded her. Yet, she had long heard whispers of how the Masked Fools operated. Their methods were chaotic, their behavior seemingly disorganized and mad—but beneath the manic performance, they always buried crucial clues, breadcrumbs meant to guide the perceptive toward the truth.
"The actions of a Masked Fool are never without purpose," Robin replied, her tone perfectly even. "I had already noticed it. Ever since I returned to Penacony, my voice has felt... wrong. It has been gradually fading, evolving into the sheer torture of losing my song entirely. At first, I assumed it was a mere accident. I thought that perhaps living abroad for so long had left me unaccustomed to the Asdana system's dense concentration of Memory Zone substance." She shook her head, her gaze hardening. "But now I see the source of the rot isn't within me. Something entirely discordant with the Harmony is festering around me."
"Bingo!" Sparkle clapped her hands together in exaggerated delight. "Exactly what I told you! Oh, little voiceless bird, why can't you sing in Penacony? Because this so-called beautiful dream has never actually changed. The only reason it no longer welcomes your sweet little tunes is simply because you've 'grown up'."
Robin fell silent, absorbing the weight of those words. Then, with quiet resolve, she shook her head. "Even if this dreamscape rejects me, I will still find my own way. I will ensure the voice of Harmony reaches every dark corner that desperately needs it. Pain and scars... they should never be swept under the rug and hidden behind a velvet curtain."
"Oh my, what a heart-wrenching declaration!" Sparkle dramatically placed a hand over her heart, her grin stretching impossibly wide. "I am just so looking forward to seeing how you, a pathetic little bird with broken wings, plan to smash your pretty little head against the iron cage of Order!"
A few paces away, Rekka was squatted in a dim corner. One hand was clamped tightly over his forehead, fingers digging into his hairline, while his other hand unconsciously gouged deep, jagged scratches into the solid floor plating.
Calm down. Suppress it. Choke out the fury of Destruction.
If he couldn't keep a lid on this surging, apocalyptic rage, this entire star system was going to have to say its goodbyes in the next eternal cycle.
"Whatcha doing over there?" Sparkle, having finished her theatrical banter with Robin, practically teleported to his side, poking her head over his shoulder to peer at the gouged floor.
"Suppressing his anger," Delta replied succinctly, crossing her arms.
"Can he actually suppress it?" Sparkle blinked, genuinely curious.
"It's probably about as difficult as suppressing morning wood," the pink-haired horned girl deadpanned.
Sparkle let out a low whistle. "Well then. That's actually quite terrifying."
Delta's eyes darted left and right, a mischievous glint flashing in her irises. "Captain, I think I have a foolproof way to help you resolve this nasty little impulse of Destruction."
Without waiting for permission, Delta leaned in, attempting to employ a classic, curse-breaking method she had read about in a stack of old fairy tales.
Namely: a kiss.
She pulled back a moment later, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Damn. It's actually ineffective."
Despite her words, Delta's expression didn't hold a single ounce of regret over the failed 'cure'. If anything, she looked thoroughly satisfied, having clearly taken the opportunity to sneak an extra taste while his guard was down.
Watching Rekka's slightly stiff, unnatural expression, the little flame of possessiveness in Delta's chest flared up. She batted her eyelashes innocently. "You know, the fairy tales say only a true love's kiss can break a curse. I think those two pecks just now might have been a bit too rushed. We should probably try again..."
Rekka just shook his head, groaning as he gently but firmly pushed the clingy girl away.
Stelle, March 7th, and Firefly had already gone ahead to regroup with Himeko and Welt. Currently, their side held a massive tactical advantage, but in Penacony, there was absolutely no guarantee the tables wouldn't flip at a moment's notice. Rekka had zero intention of fully transforming into Nanook right now and accidentally atomizing the planet.
He would save that apocalyptic trump card as an absolute last resort—specifically, for the moment the advent of Order finally arrived.
Meanwhile, the grand venue for the Charmony Festival had long been prepared. The opulent symbol of the Family hung suspended beneath the massive vaulted dome. Brilliant golden light converged from all directions, illuminating the cavernous hall so brightly it rivaled the midday sun.
Amidst the glittering decor, a man dressed as flamboyantly as a peacock was casually wandering the floor.
"Hey, friend!"
Aventurine spotted a familiar shock of grey hair passing through the crowd, and his vibrant eyes instantly lit up.
He had definitely seen this grey-haired girl before. Back at the hotel's front desk... she was a Trailblazer from the Astral Express. She had left alongside a black-haired boy with striking blue highlights—someone who appeared to be an unregistered, wild-card member of the Express crew.
But regardless of the boy's status, a Nameless of the Astral Express was undoubtedly the perfect entry point for his grand scheme.
To be entirely honest, Aventurine's current situation was looking rather grim. The Masked Fool he had been banking on hadn't made a move, but the Trailblazers had stepped directly onto the board.
Aventurine's sole purpose in coming to Penacony was to help the IPC reclaim absolute ownership of the planet. However, he was operating completely blind, lacking any concrete intelligence on the Family's inner workings. In this high-stakes environment, he could only play his hand one dangerous step at a time.
Therefore, he had done the unthinkable. He had personally shattered his own foundation—an artifact vastly more valuable than his own life—and smuggled the fragments inside a mundane bag of cheap gems.
Topaz's and Jade's Cornerstones had been willingly surrendered to Sunday, serving as the perfect, glittering diversions.
Currently, there was only one singular objective Aventurine needed to achieve.
He needed to force a sufficiently powerful opponent to strike him down in public. He had to violently tear away the heavy velvet curtain of the Family's concealment, offering his own broken body as the ultimate bargaining chip for the IPC to use in their upcoming negotiations. Whether he survived the encounter or died on the casino floor was entirely irrelevant.
His foundation was shattered by his own hand; even if he somehow walked away from this alive, the IPC's internal punishment would be severe.
Yet, while Aventurine would eventually win this insane gamble, he was currently hovering millimeters away from true, permanent death.
Why? Because his calculated, provocative attack had almost landed directly on March 7th's head.
Now, as everyone in his immediate vicinity was painfully aware, Rekka was currently white-knuckling his way through suppressing the primal, apocalyptic instincts of Destruction.
So, when he saw his cheerful, pink-haired companion suddenly targeted by a lethal strike, launched by an opponent who clearly intended to severely injure the entire Express crew...
Well. What exactly did one expect to happen?
Twelve system hours before the Charmony Festival.
"An urgent bulletin," the broadcast echoed across the dreamscape. "Aventurine, a P45-level senior executive of the Interstellar Peace Corporation and one of the Ten Stonehearts of the Strategic Investment Department, while on official duty in the Asdana system's Penacony, has keenly perceived a massive conspiracy targeting the Planet of Festivities..."
The pristine corporate voice paused before delivering the final, echoing sign-off. "...All for the Amber Lord!"
The news background flickered, transitioning from the prosperous, neon-drenched night view of Penacony's twelve moments to a violently shaking, blurry image.
In the footage, a massive, jagged rift was slowly tearing open the very fabric of the void. Searing, terrifying golden light poured out from within the cosmic wound.
Deep within the heart of the Oak Family's stronghold, an intensely anxious Sunday paced back and forth across his lavish office.
He kept rubbing the back of his neck, unable to shake the icy, creeping chill settling over his spine. Every instinct screaming within his haloed head warned him that an unmatched, catastrophic crisis was barreling straight toward them.
The current situation was spiraling out of control. An unsuppressable, cosmic rage was rising in the dreamscape. The sheer emotional instability radiating from that focal point was so violent it threatened to expose the creeping rot of Destruction hidden within the festival.
What needed to be done? How could the Family contain a force that defied all logic?
Back in the ruins, Rekka's eyes slowly slid shut.
Calm down. Breathe. Make every subsequent decision with absolute precision.
He exhaled a breath that seemed to superheat the air around him, his voice dropping into a terrifying, resonant frequency that bypassed the ears and vibrated directly against the soul.
"...Here, in this pathetic land of Harmony and Order, I call upon your name."
His eyes snapped open, blazing with the golden fire of a dying star.
"[Celenova]!"
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