Chapter 3: They Just Want to Drink Milk
Leon trailed behind Kafka and Silver Wolf, his eyes darting around the sleek, futuristic corridors. The Herta Space Station was massive. In the game, it had just been a series of interconnected rooms on a glowing screen, but standing here in the flesh? The sheer scale of the metallic arches and the hum of blue energy lines running along the walls was stunning. It felt entirely different from merely tapping keys to move a digital avatar.
"Say, Mommy," Leon piped up, his voice echoing lightly in the quiet corridor. "Do you Stellaron Hunters get a monthly salary for these missions? Does Elio offer a good benefits package?"
He didn't wait for an answer before pivoting. "And Wolfie! Do you think if Elio saw his precious script mutating right now, he'd stress-scratch himself until all his fur fell out? Just a grumpy, hairless cat?" He leaned in closer to the petite hacker. "Oh, and Wolfie, I heard a rumor. Is it true that when you can't beat someone in a game, you just toggle on the cheat codes?"
Silver Wolf's boots screeched to a sudden halt on the polished floor. She whipped her head around, her bubblegum popping loudly in the sudden silence.
What the hell? Did the Masked Fools seriously have intel on her gaming habits?
"I, Silver Wolf, do not use cheat codes," she declared, her eyes narrowing into a dangerous glare. "And what the heck is with this 'Wolfie' business?!"
Just hearing the nickname made a visible shudder run down her arms. As expected of a Masked Fool, she thought, gritting her teeth. His skin is thicker than a starship's hull plating. He's an absolute social menace!
Leon just grinned, entirely unbothered by her glare. "I call you that because 'Wolfie'is incredibly popular back where I come from," he explained smoothly, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Everyone over there affectionately calls you Wolfie. Well, that, or'Great Love Wolf Lord'. Oh, and 'Little Duckie', of course."
Seeing that he had successfully baited a reaction out of the legendary hacker, Leon's grin widened, and the floodgates opened. He chattered away without a single ounce of shame. Shyness? Restraint? Those concepts had been thoroughly deleted from his dictionary. If he acted all timid and reserved, how was he supposed to mess around with his favorite characters in the flesh? If his face wasn't completely bulletproof, how could he ever sync his chaotic brainwaves with the soon-to-be-born Stelle or Caelus?
His life philosophy was simple: As long as I don't feel embarrassed, the embarrassment is entirely transferred to whoever is listening!
Silver Wolf stared at him, her expression deadpanning into a perfect ᗜ‸ᗜ.
What in the cosmos? I'm highly rated at The Tavern? The mental image of a bunch of chaotic Masked Fools sitting around a bar, raising glasses to 'Wolfie'and'Great Love Wolf Lord' was deeply unsettling. And what the heck is a Little Duckie?!
"I'm... popular at The Tavern?" she repeated, the words tasting like ash in her mouth.
Wait. A sudden realization hit her. Did the lunatics at The Tavern have their eyes on her? The mere thought of being targeted by a swarm of Masked Fools purely for 'fun' made a cold chill race down her spine. But then, a faint, competitive smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. A challenge like that... now that makes things interesting.
"The Tavern?" Leon blinked, his head tilting to the side. It took him a second to connect the dots. "Oh! No, no, you misunderstood. I'm really not a Masked Fool." He waved his hands dismissively. "That mask back there? It was definitely shoved onto me by Aha. I mean, think about it—there is absolutely no way it was just a coincidence that a Fool's mask dropped out of my clothes right at that exact moment, right? Do you know how embarrassing that would be if it was just me being clumsy?"
Somewhere in the vast, unfathomable cosmos, a certain Aeon was rolling around in hysterical laughter. Ahahahaha! That's right! It was all Aha's doing!
"Who knows if you're just setting up a punchline on purpose!" Silver Wolf shot back, crossing her arms. She was completely speechless at his sheer audacity. Even though his logic technically tracked, 'fun-seekers'were notoriously unreasonable. For all she knew, this entire awkward conversation was just a manufactured piece of'fun' he had engineered for his own amusement.
"Hey, don't look at me like that," Leon sighed, placing a hand over his heart in mock hurt. "You should know the truth. I was sent to the Herta Space Station by a literal slap from Aha."
Ahead of them, the rhythmic clicking of Kafka's heels suddenly stopped. She turned her head, her magenta eyes locking onto Leon.
"Aha sent you here?" she asked, her voice dropping into a thoughtful, velvety purr.
The claim sounded utterly absurd. Yet, in the twisted logic of the universe, it was precisely its absurdity that gave it the ring of truth. Besides, the Aeon of Elation was exactly the type of entity to slap a random mortal across the galaxy just for a cheap laugh. That was the power of a well-established reputation.
"Yeah, Mommy. It was Aha," Leon nodded solemnly, though his eyes danced with amusement. "I was just sleeping, completely groggy and minding my own business, and bam! Aha just slapped me right across the cosmos and dumped me here." He clicked his tongue, lacing his tone with heavy disdain for the Aeon.
Of course, deep down, Leon didn't actually mind Aha's rough handling. If it weren't for the Aeon's sudden intervention, he would have missed the legendary, iconic scene of Stelle or Caelus being born into the world. Missing out on the birth of the galactic baseballer? Now that would have been a true tragedy!
Up in the cosmic void, the laughter continued to echo. Waaaah, Aha is being disliked! Aha is so sad... Hahahaha!
Silver Wolf blew a bubble, letting it pop with a sharp smack. "It sounds like complete garbage, but somehow it actually makes sense," she muttered. "Fine. Let's say you're not a Masked Fool. Care to formally introduce yourself? I'm genuinely curious—on exactly which planet do we notorious, galaxy-wide criminals have such a massive fan club?" She tilted her head, a sly smirk forming. "And more... why exactly is Kafka called 'Mommy'?"
As the banter flowed, the trio passed through a set of heavy blast doors, finally stepping into the Storage Zone. The atmosphere shifted immediately. This was the core research sector of the Space Station, a vast, heavily secured vault housing the countless bizarre Curios that Herta had hoarded from the farthest reaches of the universe. Silver Wolf kept up the idle chatter, her fingers dancing across a holographic keyboard projected from her wrist as she tracked the Stellaron's energy signature.
Despite her casual demeanor, her curiosity was genuinely piqued. If Leon really wasn't affiliated with The Tavern, was there actually a world out there where the Stellaron Hunters were treated like idols? It seemed highly improbable. Thanks to the IPC's relentless interstellar propaganda machine, the Hunters were universally despised. They were painted as heinous, bloodthirsty terrorists. The IPC even had a habit of pinning random, unsolved cosmic disasters on them just to close case files. It was the only reason their bounties were so astronomically high.
"My name is Leon," he announced, executing a flawless, overly dramatic bow. "And I hail from a very, very distant blue planet. But I assure you, you guys are absolute superstars back home. Millions of people adore you." He straightened up, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he addressed Silver Wolf's second question. "As for why Kafka is called Mommy... well, maybe it's because they just want to drink milk?"
Naturally, he couldn't say the real reason out loud. The truth was rooted in the game's opening sequence. It was Kafka and Silver Wolf who broke into this very station to secure a vessel for the protagonist. Kafka was the one who would personally select the vessel's gender, pressing the Stellaron into their chest and effectively 'birthing' Stelle or Caelus into existence as a living container.
He distinctly remembered the dialogue. Silver Wolf had told Kafka: 'The one to make this choice must be you!'That single line had instantly cemented Kafka's status as the player's'biological mother.'And right after the creation process, Kafka had softly asked,'How much will they remember?'To which Silver Wolf replied,'They'll remember you, at least.'That specific exchange had exploded across the player community. It established Kafka as the protagonist's very first memory anchor in a strange new universe—a role identical to a mother's place in a newborn's heart. Combine that with her calm elegance, her gentle voice, and the subtle, underlying concern she showed for the Trailblazer's destiny, and players were practically blinded by her'maternal radiance.'It led to the legendary community joke:'I thought I was pulling for a waifu, but it turns out I was pulling for my mom.'From there, the affectionate title of'Mommy' became absolute law.
But since literally none of those events had happened yet, Leon needed a quick, alternative explanation. And what better excuse than the most degenerate, base-level reason the internet had to offer?
They just want to be babied and drink milk. Yep. Confirmed!
Kafka merely blinked, a rare moment of stunned silence washing over her elegant features.
Silver Wolf's face, meanwhile, returned to the ultimate expression of deadpan disgust: ᗜ‸ᗜ.
"Are the people on your planet a bunch of irredeemable perverts?!" Silver Wolf snapped, rubbing her arms as a fresh wave of goosebumps erupted across her skin. Suddenly, the dark, horrifying reality of why she might be popular on Leon's home world began to dawn on her. It was an angle she had never, ever wanted to consider.
She was the invisible emperor of Punklorde! She was a living legend in the hacker underworld, a digital god worshipped by countless cyber-runners across the cosmos! She was a notorious, high-bounty Stellaron Hunter whose very name made corporate executives tremble in their tailored suits!
But on Leon's planet? Was she seriously just popular because a bunch of degenerates thought she looked cute?!
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