St.
Freya Academy — Student Dormitory, Room 404
“Mei, is dinner ready yet?”
“I’m so hungry I’m dying.
I need Mei’s cooking.
If I don’t get it soon, I am going to actually perish.”
Kiana was draped across her chair with the structural integrity of overcooked noodles, chin planted on the dining table, watching Mei work in the kitchen with dim and desperate eyes.
Mei turned and took in Kiana’s boneless state.
A trace of resigned, helpless affection crossed her face.
“Kiana—just a little longer, I promise.”
Kiana answered with a sound approximately equivalent to “okay.”
Then a holographic screen blinked into existence right in front of her, accompanied by a girl’s calm, unremarkable voice—and Kiana was so startled she launched herself clean out of the chair, hitting the smooth floor hard.
“Ow, ow, ow—”
Mei set down her knife and turned to find Kiana sitting on the floor, one hand rubbing her backside, the other cradling her head.
“Kiana—what happened?”
Kiana scrambled to her feet, sprinted to Mei’s side, and grabbed both her hands.
Then she pointed urgently at the table.
“Mei, Mei—a screen just appeared out of nowhere!
It scared me half to death!”
Mei followed her gaze to the table.
There was nothing there but a cup.
She looked back down at Kiana, still clinging to her arms.
“Kiana.” A measured breath.
“I know you’re hungry.
It’ll be ready soon.” She gently untangled herself and steered Kiana back toward her chair.
“Go wait at the table a little longer.”
Then she turned back to the stove.
Kiana wanted to protest—but she remembered very well what happened when Mei was interrupted while cooking.
She sank back into her seat in resigned silence, seething privately.
It had to be Bronya.
Definitely Bronya.
I’ll eat her entire portion later—serve her right for scaring me.
She slumped over the table again, muttering vague threats to no one.
And then the screen reappeared.
This time, Kiana didn’t scream.
She sat completely still, transfixed by the stunning visuals playing across the hologram.
The familiar silhouette.
The one she recognized.
“Is that…
me?”
She’d started to type something in the chat bar, but a warning flashed before she could send it—and then she heard the streamer actually say her name out loud.
Probably not Bronya’s doing.
Her brain—never her most reliable asset—had no time to puzzle out the logistics of a livestream appearing in front of her, because the CG footage had already eclipsed everything else in her mind, and one thought had taken over completely.
“That was so cool—!”
“But wait, am I even a Valkyrie yet?
Can I actually do those missions?
Is that…
future me?”
The realization lit her eyes up.
And then she heard the streamer use her nickname.
On-screen, Xiyue broke into laughter.
“Why Paramecium?”
Oh, there are so many reasons.
Not just because of the official running gag—Kiana right now genuinely resembled the organism in more ways than one.
She remembered a scene from Chapter 2 of the main story, where Mei had looked Kiana dead in the eyes and said very sincerely:
“Are you a paramecium?”
The memory cracked her up.
She laughed out loud.
The sound of Xiyue’s laughter landed on Kiana like a direct personal insult.
Her cheeks puffed out.
“Don’t laugh!”
“Why am I called Paramecium—just say it!
(furious)”
Xiyue made herself stop.
Barely.
Besides—this particular running gag was going to resurface again and again in the arcs ahead.
Better to let the mystery breathe.
“I’m sorry—I couldn’t help it.”
“Ahem.
Why is Kiana called Paramecium, you ask?”
“Because paramecia have tremendous potential!
Their evolutionary arc is actually quite remarkable.”
“Paramecium → soft-bodied organism → amphibian → reptile → mammal → White Comet → Knight Moonbeam → Her Majesty the Queen → the Paramecium Who Won’t Let Go of Mei → Void Drifter → Firefly.”
“See?
Isn’t that incredible?”
Kiana turned this over in her head.
Grudgingly, she had to admit the evolution count was impressive.
And yet something felt off.
She couldn’t quite name what.
In another timeline, Elysia watched the exchange with a smile that never wavered.
From her vantage point, the person calling themselves No Exams Thanks was unmistakably Kiana Kaslana herself.
Which meant this game was depicting events from the future—events that hadn’t happened yet.
And that line in the PV—the one Elysia herself had spoken—confirmed that their story, Fire MOTH’s story, would be preserved in that future world.
What kind of story will we leave behind?
she wondered.
The question filled her with genuine anticipation.
And yet, beneath that excitement, something else surfaced—quieter.
If Honkai still exists in the future…
she thought.
Does that mean we never truly defeated it?
She folded the grief away into the deepest corner of herself and kept watching.
Her pink eyes shimmered in the glow of the screen.
Xiyue noticed no new comments had appeared, and refocused her attention on the game.
She tapped the White Comet sprite.
Kiana launched into an adorable little animation.
“Other than Mei, I love the Captain most!”
She tapped again.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
Again.
“Go away!”
Again.
“I’m going to fail my exams and Himeko-auntie is going to come for me.”
Xiyue watched these play out, eyes soft with nostalgia.
After she’d pulled her first S-rank Valkyrie, White Comet had rarely made it to the home screen again.
But this very first three-star character—she’d been there from the very beginning, growing alongside the account through every stage.
A shame.
As stronger and stronger Valkyries joined the roster, White Comet could only retire to storage.
Miss Pink Elf♪: Why does she call you Captain?
No Exams Thanks: No, that’s wrong—she only likes Mei.
There is no “Captain” she likes!
Wants to Buy an Island: w(ﾟДﾟ)w
Xiyue exhaled, nostalgic, and opened the Supply menu.
She turned to address the question.
“Captain is us—the players.
In-game, our character is the captain of the Hyperion, and all the Valkyries are crew members aboard the ship.”
“The Captain doesn’t get much screen time in the main story, but the Captain is still important!”
“After all, the decks of that ship don’t scrub themselves—that’s the Captain’s job.”
She added a self-deprecating laugh.
Really, among all games ever made, only miHoYo wouldn’t even treat their players like people.
Captain?
Did you scrub the deck today?
“Anyway—let’s try a ten-pull and see if we can land an S-rank Valkyrie.
Having a strong unit early makes the main story stages much more manageable.”
A blue comment shot across the screen.
No Exams Thanks: Isn’t Kiana enough for you?!
She’s this strong and you still want other Valkyries!!