The Astral Express slowly docked at the Herta Space Station port, but this time, there was no familiar welcome broadcast, nor was there any greeting from Asta.
There were only the red alarm lights flashing throughout the Space Station, and the piercing warnings echoing through the communication channels.
Inside the Parlor Car, the atmosphere was slightly heavy.
“Everyone,” Himeko turned around to face the gathered Astral Express Crew members, her expression serious.
“I just received an emergency distress signal from Asta.
The Space Station is under attack by the Antimatter Legion, and the situation seems quite dire.”
“The Antimatter Legion?” Welt adjusted his glasses, his gaze behind the lenses calm and sharp.
“They are indeed a troublesome bunch.
The Astral Express has a long-standing cooperative relationship with the Herta Space Station; both in reason and sentiment, we should extend a helping hand at this moment.”
He paused, turning his gaze toward Himeko.
“However, the specific arrangements depend on your decision, Himeko.
You are the Navigator of the Astral Express.”
Himeko nodded slightly and quickly made her decision.
“Then, March, Dan Heng, you two come with me to disembark and enter the Space Station to provide support.”
“A mere Legion, watch me show them what I can do!” March 7th immediately waved her fist with vigor, fighting spirit igniting in her eyes.
“March, they are the Antimatter Legion after all; we cannot underestimate them.
It would be better for us to be cautious,” Dan Heng reminded her calmly from the side, his tone maintaining his usual composure.
“As for you, Welt, and…” Himeko’s gaze shifted toward the passageway a short distance away, pausing slightly.
“Apologies, have I arrived a bit late?”
A soft voice rang out, and Selene maneuvered her wheelchair, slowly driving into the Parlor Car.
“Ah!
Sister Selene!
Oh no, I forgot!” March 7th slapped her forehead, a look of annoyance on her face.
She immediately trotted over, naturally taking over the handles of the wheelchair to push Selene toward the group.
“Not at all, we were just arranging the support mission to the Space Station.” Himeko smiled gently at Selene, then turned serious.
“Selene, you and Welt stay behind on the Astral Express to be responsible for security and support, while also maintaining communication with us.”
“I understand.” Selene nodded gently, having no objections.
“However, before you depart, please accept this.” She raised her slender, fair right hand, palm facing upward.
A soft halo of light, like moonlight, emerged from her palm, rapidly expanding and rising to transform into an illusory, bright moon phantom in mid-air.
The cool moonlight poured down like quicksilver, gently falling upon Himeko, March 7th, and Dan Heng, who were about to depart.
The light seeped into their bodies, not bringing a rough surge of power, but a strange, all-encompassing sense of harmony and comfort.
Their minds became clearer, the fatigue in their bodies was dispelled, their senses seemed to sharpen a bit, and even the power flowing within their bodies seemed to be combed through, becoming smoother and echoing with one another.
“Wow!
This feeling…
it’s so amazing!
I feel like I could take on ten people right now!” March 7th clenched her fists, excitedly feeling the changes within her.
“It is not quite that powerful,” Selene withdrew her hand, and the phantom moon dissipated along with it.
She shook her head slightly, her tone carrying a hint of helpless amusement.
“Don’t worry, Sister Selene!
Uncle Welt, we’re off!” March 7th waved at Selene and Welt, then turned to follow Himeko and Dan Heng, who were already walking toward the exit of the Astral Express.
Selene nodded gently, her gaze following March 7th’s lively figure as it disappeared behind the door, until the airtight door slowly closed.
“What a lively child,” she whispered softly, her tone carrying a trace of imperceptible tenderness.
“Indeed,” Welt walked to the viewing window, looking at the Space Station outside, which was dotted with red alarm lights, and said in a deep voice, “I hope everything goes well for them.”
The Real World
“Haah—that felt so good to sleep…”
The sunlight at nine in the morning was already quite bright.
Black Cat stretched widely, slowly wiggling out from under the covers, and reached for the phone charging on the nightstand.
The screen unlocked, and a series of unread messages and @ notifications popped up instantly.
Especially in the fan group and the top right corner of the icon, the bright red numbers were particularly eye-catching.
“Hmm?
Why is it so lively this morning, and why are so many people @ing me?” She rubbed her eyes, and with the grogginess of just waking up, she tapped on the fan group.
The message history scrolled up rapidly, and the last few messages were particularly striking:
“@Black Cat Cat!
Stop sleeping!
Honkai: Star Rail has launched early!!”
“It’s over, this lazy cat must still be sleeping, missing the golden period of grabbing a UID at launch…”
Wake up, streamer!
Launched early?!
Black Cat’s eyes widened instantly, and the last trace of sleepiness vanished.
She looked sharply at the time at the top of her phone screen—9:27.
“Wasn’t it supposed to launch at ten?!
Pom-Pom’s countdown is clearly still there!” She couldn’t help but shout.
“MiHoYo, you have no honor!
Attacking by surprise!”
While complaining, her body honestly got out of bed, and she shuffled in her slippers toward the study.
Turning on the computer, logging into the streaming software, and launching the game happened in one go; her movements were more than twice as efficient as usual.
The stream started, and viewers who received the notification began to flood in.
“Yo, our sleeping-section streamer has finally woken up?”
“It’s 9:30, sis, everyone else has already finished the Space Station story!”
“Streamer, you’ve lost so much.”
“Haha, you can tell she’s an honest person who got tricked by Pom-Pom’s fake countdown.”
Looking at the teasing in the chat, Black Cat waited for the game to load while “indignantly” accusing into the microphone: “Can you blame me?!
It was MiHoYo that launched a surprise attack!
They promised ten o’clock, and Pom-Pom held the countdown sign itself!
It lied!
It backstabbed all the players waiting for ten o’clock!”
The game screen loaded successfully.
When it lit up again, what came into view was a Space Station with a futuristic feel.
Then, the game screen switched to the interior of the Space Station, showing a purple-haired beauty with an elegant figure, standing with her back to the camera.
She turned slightly, her arms swaying in an extremely skillful and rhythmic manner, as if she were playing an invisible violin.
“Mommy!”
“Classic air violin!”
“Elegant, too elegant!”
The chat immediately became active.
Black Cat also laughed: “Good grief, starting off with memes, are we?”
The subsequent development was similar to the plot revealed in the previous tests, right up until Kafka was about to take out the Stellaron for the player to choose between the male or female protagonist.
“Actually, we don’t need to make such a big scene to take the Stellaron.”
A calm, perhaps even indifferent, young girl’s voice cut in without warning, interrupting the “plot.”
The camera panned.
On the side of the screen, space rippled like water, and a figure emerged clearly from the blurry imaginary ripples, as if she had been there all along, and only now was allowed to be “observed.”
It was a young girl.
She had long purple hair, and the fine bangs on her forehead perfectly covered her left eye.
She wore a simple white crop top, and her lower body consisted of slightly casual black hot pants, revealing a pair of slender legs.
Most noticeably, on her neck, arms, and waist exposed outside her clothing, one could see clear and exquisite artificial joint structures, shimmering with an inhuman faint light under the cold white lights of the Space Station.
She looked like an incredibly exquisite doll that had been endowed with life and consciousness.
The girl’s gaze calmly swept past the direction of the screen, then landed on Kafka and Silver Wolf in front of her.
Her tone was devoid of waves, yet carried a sense of inevitability: “Just ask Herta for it directly, wouldn’t that work?”