The heavy blast doors of the Astral Express slid apart with a pressurized hiss.
March 7th and Dan Heng had already drawn their weapons, vaulting ahead into the corridor to clear out the straggling Void Rangers infesting the Herta Space Station.
That left only Himeko.
She strolled toward the safety cabin alone, a heavy metallic toolbox swinging casually from her grip.
The ambient breeze from the station’s ventilation systems caught the hem of her dress, making the fabric sway like a patch of golden sunset light burned to absolute perfection against the sterile steel of the deck.
Kazuki stood amidst the chaos, his outward demeanor as placid as a stagnant pond.
His fingers did not tremble in the slightest.
The only movement came from the translucent system panel refreshing silently across his retinas.
[High-value extractable target detected: Himeko]
[Current distance: 12 meters]
[Status: Not in optimal extraction range]
He did not rush to intercept her.
Instead, he pivoted toward the triage zone, stepping in to assist with a fresh wave of injured researchers.
He guided a hovering stretcher down to the deck with practiced stability, then passed two rolls of sterile bandages and three bottles of purified water to the frantic medical staff.
His movements were so fluid and efficient he looked like a logistics veteran with years on the job.
Wiping a smudge of grime from his cheek, he sidled up to a burly defense department guard stationed by the sealed bulkhead.
Kazuki lowered his voice, painting a mask of grave concern across his features.
“Brother, the medics just told me the local comms are still dead.
We have zero response from the Master Control Zone.
The casualty count keeps climbing, and we cannot even broadcast an SOS for emergency medical supplies.”
The guard’s soot-stained face crumpled into a scowl.
He spat a curse at the deck.
“Dammit all.
That last antimatter shockwave completely fried the main motherboard.
We are just grunts who know how to pull triggers.
How the hell are we supposed to fix microelectronics?”
Right on cue, Himeko stepped through the cabin entrance.
Kazuki calculated the timing with lethal precision.
He turned to meet her, halting exactly two meters away—a perfectly non-threatening distance.
He offered a slight, respectful bow.
His tone carried just the right edge of desperation, yet remained entirely composed.
“Hello, Ms.
Himeko.
I apologize for the intrusion.
I am one of the survivors from the upper levels.
I know you have critical matters to attend to, and I have no right to monopolize your time, but we are in desperate need of your expertise.”
The defense guard behind him caught on instantly.
He rolled his eyes at his own incompetence and chimed in, his voice booming across the room.
“He is right!
Ms.
Himeko, the emergency comms in this sector have been down for half an hour.
We cannot reach the Master Control Zone, we cannot report the triage status, and we are bleeding through our supply reserves.
We are all trigger-pullers here.
We are completely out of ideas!”
Himeko arched a delicate brow.
She shifted the heavy toolbox to her other hand, her lips curving into a warm, reassuring smile.
“It is no trouble at all.
Just a small effort.
Let me take a look.”
Kazuki mentally threw his hands up in victory, though his facial expression remained a mask of polite gratitude.
He turned to guide Himeko toward the ruined communication terminal.
As they walked, he maintained a strict half-step lead, his voice steady and attentive.
“Watch your step, Ms.
Himeko.
The deck is covered in shattered glass and loose plating.
Please do not trip.”
It sounded like the gentle warning of a concerned civilian.
In reality, Kazuki was executing a flawless spatial dance, locking the physical gap between them at exactly 0.8 meters.
It was the optimal extraction range dictated by the system, measured down to the millimeter.
The holographic panel before his eyes flared to life.
[Entered optimal extraction range.
Extract Destiny Cards of target Himeko?]
Kazuki gave the mental command without missing a beat.
‘I want to verify the card.
Extract.’
The text scrolled smoothly across his vision.
[Extracting…
100%]
[Extraction complete]
[Obtained Card: Interstellar Navigation Propulsion Student]
[Card Owner: Himeko]
[Card Wishes: 1.
A sense of living.
2.
Drink a glass of wine in peace without trivial matters bothering me.
3.
Gaze at the starry sky.]
[Difficulty: Easy]
[Card Status: Transformable, Unfulfilled Wishes, Can be stored in card slot]
Interstellar Navigation Propulsion Student.
On the outside, Kazuki was the picture of helpfulness, offering a clean microfiber towel with both hands.
“Please, use this to wipe your hands.
The terminal is coated in corrosive dust and slag.
We would not want you getting dirty.”
On the inside, Kazuki was screaming at the ceiling, his mental composure shattering into a million pieces.
‘There is a massive problem with this card!
What timeline did this system just drag me into?!
This title…
this has to be the young Himeko from Honkai Impact 3rd!’
Himeko did not waste a second.
She popped the latches on her toolbox, stripped the scorched casing off the terminal, and swapped out the melted motherboard in a blur of practiced motions.
Her fingers danced across the physical keys.
With a sharp crackle of static, the channel forced itself open.
Asta’s frantic, high-pitched voice immediately blasted through the speakers.
“Hello?!
Hello, hello?!
Can anyone hear me?!
Support Zone, Safety Cabin 3?!
What is your status over there?!
Is everyone alive?!”
The defense guard practically shoved his face into the microphone, his voice echoing off the bulkheads.
“Reporting in, Station Master!
Everyone in this sector is secure!
The wounded have been stabilized!
Our comms were jammed, but Ms.
Himeko from the Astral Express just bailed us out!
We also had a civilian gentleman stepping up to manage the triage and guide the injured.
He has been a lifesaver!”
Asta let out a massive sigh of relief on the other end, her tone instantly brightening.
“Really?!
Thank the stars!
Thank you so much, Ms.
Himeko!
And to the gentleman who helped!
As soon as I finish directing this evacuation rush, I am coming down there to thank you both in person!”
Kazuki kept his tone perfectly humble, even as a drop of cold sweat slid down his spine at the thought of drawing the Lead Researcher’s attention.
“It is only right.
We are all trying to survive this disaster together.
Helping each other is the bare minimum.”
Himeko snapped her toolbox shut, wiped the residual grease from her fingers, and turned to Kazuki with an approving smile.
“Alright, the network is stable.
If you run into any more technical failures, you can find us at the platform.
The Express will not be departing for a while.”
Kazuki offered another respectful bow.
Reaching into his jacket, he retrieved two unopened high-calorie energy bars and a sealed bottle of purified water he had requisitioned from the medical staff earlier.
He presented them with both hands, his posture open and genuine, entirely devoid of any sycophantic groveling.
“Ms.
Himeko, you have been fighting and repairing things since the attack began.
You must be exhausted.
Please, take these.
We have secured enough local supplies for the wounded, so I hope you will not decline.”
The warmth in Himeko’s amber eyes deepened.
She accepted the rations with a gracious nod, taking the opening to gather more intel.
“Thank you.
I appreciate it.
Actually, I was hoping to get a clearer picture of the invasion routes in the other sectors of the station.”
After providing a brief rundown and watching Himeko disappear down the corridor, Kazuki slumped against the cold steel bulkhead.
He let out a long, shuddering exhale.
The invisible wire he had kept pulled taut in his chest finally snapped slack.
His hand drifted down to his waist.
Earlier, when the Void Rangers had been tearing through the outer hull with their anti-matter blades, the sheer terror had manifested as a phantom ache in his kidney.
He ripped the wrapper off his last energy bar and took a massive, stress-relieving bite.
Pulling up the system interface, he tapped on the [Interstellar Navigation Propulsion Student] card.
His eyes scanned the list of wishes.
Suddenly, a spark of realization hit him, and he slapped his thigh with a loud smack.
‘The second and third wishes are straightforward enough.
But what in the world is the first one demanding?
What exactly constitutes a sense of living?’