Aleph walked along with a bag of snacks in one hand and a small can of soda in the other. He chewed absentmindedly as his eyes wandered over storefronts, souvenir stands, and floating ads for street food.
[Master, do you truly believe eating salty, sweet, and spicy snacks at the same time is a good idea?]
Burroughs' voice echoed in his mind with its usual impassive tone.
"If it tastes good, nothing else matters," Aleph thought lazily. It felt nice after that last visit and all the trouble that came with it.
With nothing better to do, he sat on a nearby bench and began checking the messages that had piled up.
[1,167 Unread Messages.]
"Huh?"
His gaze landed on a particular string of messages, and he almost choked on a piece of rice cake mid-bite while laughing.
Did Sampo seriously think he was naïve enough to fall for one of his scams?
Still, fine. He'd kindly invest part of his funds to give the guy a little support.
Let's not forget—Sampo had been generous enough to toss several challenges his way back when they were still in the Underworld.
[Even if those challenges gave more consumables than anything else, and it's not like he used them all that often...]
"But I did use them, and they were pretty useful, right? Or hasn't the red wine helped me a lot?"
[Fair point.]
His eyes drifted over to other messages.
[Bronya: "I was wondering if… you'd be interested in attending the Belobog Festival… Of course, the invitation is extended to all members of the Astral Express! It would be an honor… and personally, I'd really love it if you all came."]
Aleph sighed.
"Will the others want to go? They could use a decent break. I know March 7 and Stelle will probably say yes. But Welt and Himeko? Dan Heng would probably have to be dragged with us just to keep him from staying behind on the Express."
[Do you still consider it viable to accept the invitation and bring everyone along, Master?] Burroughs asked.
"…Yeah. It wouldn't be right to turn her down. Besides, I miss the Underworld." Aleph thought, already trying to come up with a way to make Dan Heng agree. "Maybe I could knock him out and drag him along the way?"
Mmm, such a tempting idea.
As he thought this, he absentmindedly bit into another piece of pastry.
And that's when a strange sensation hit him.
A slight tingle at the nape of his neck.
Without turning, he clicked his tongue as he recognized the feeling.
Someone was following him.
[For now, it seems they're just observing. How will you proceed? Strike, evade, or meet?]
"Let's mess with them a bit. See how persistent they are." Aleph thought with a small smirk.
He let his pace shift. Took narrower routes.
Moved from side to side with barely a pause.
And finally, he slipped into a small maze of alleyways far from the main traffic.
His pursuers didn't hesitate to follow.
Aleph hummed a little tune as he kept walking.
"Aaaalright… let's see what kind of idiots they are."
Taking one last sip of his soda, he abruptly turned into a side alley, slipping into the shadows.
When he reached the center of the intersection between several alleys, he stopped.
He let the empty can fall, the metallic clink echoing in the silence.
He stayed still. Waiting.
And he didn't have to wait long.
A young man—he didn't seem much older than Aleph—stepped into view. Messy black hair and a jacket way too big for his frame.
His arms and part of his neck were wrapped in bandages.
He had a smug grin, like he thought he had control of the situation.
Aleph stared silently, wondering what the guy wanted.
The stranger took a step forward and spoke, panting slightly like it had really taken effort to keep up.
"Finally caught you. You know what a pain in the ass you've been to chase down? Man…"
Aleph didn't reply.
The young man chuckled, pulling out a pendant with a glowing symbol—a triangle with a stylized eye in the center.
"We're the Illuminatis." He declared proudly, puffing out his chest with cocky bravado. "And you… you're getting way too close to our boss's targets."
The guy's words made Aleph frown.
What the hell was he talking about?
As if understanding the unspoken question, the stranger nodded and introduced himself.
"I'm Mark, currently a lieutenant under Lord Alcides." He said, folding his arms. "Why aren't you following the Code, brother? Do you know how many people have tried to board the Astral Express just to be surrounded by those beauties, Dan Heng, and the great Mr. Welt Yang?"
The guy kept rambling while Aleph just stared, confused.
Until he mentioned that their leader had already "reserved" and targeted Stelle, March 7, Kafka…
And that as a newbie, Aleph should respect the leader's claim—or else the boss would make his life miserable in ways he couldn't even imagine.
That sure, it was fine for a reincarnator or transmigrator rookie to be ambitious, but their boss was on a whole other level.
Aleph listened in silence, not asking a single question.
The guy's face slowly twisted with confusion. Why wasn't he seeing the usual expression of shock and enlightenment new guys always had after being told this?
He'd been doing scouting and recruitment for over three years and had never run into this kind of reaction!
He couldn't help scratching his head, suddenly nervous. He wasn't one of those idiots with Jujutsu Kaisen or Naruto-style powers who thought they were overpowered, was he? Those were always a nightmare to bring to their senses.
One of them had even made the stupid mistake of pissing off an Emanator!
Ugh. The casualties that day were brutal.
Finally, when it seemed the guy had run out of things to say, Aleph spoke for the first time.
"That's it?"
His voice was flat. Indifferent.
Mark frowned.
Did he really need to put this guy in his place?
Well, whatever. He'd done it before—what's one more time?
With a swift flick of his hand, he summoned a massive shuriken made of water.
Aleph didn't even blink.
With a snap of his fingers, the shuriken instantly froze solid.
Mark blinked dumbly, then started tossing it from hand to hand.
"Cold! Cold! Cold!" He yelped, eyes watering as he played a frantic game of hot potato.
Aleph's expression remained stone-faced, but if one looked closely, they'd notice his eyebrows twitching.
"…Did I seriously worry about this guy?" He wondered.
[Do not let your guard down, Master. He may be a mastermind putting on a pitiful act to lower your defenses. Isn't that a common trope?]
Aleph's eyes widened. Burroughs' words… made way too much sense!
His gaze toward Mark hardened.
"You won't fool me with your little games." He muttered.
Mark stopped rubbing his frozen hands and stared at Aleph with a confused look.
What the hell is this guy talking about?
That's what his expression seemed to say.
…
The young man swallowed hard and took a step back.
Aleph stepped forward.
"Choose." Aleph said flatly. "Face or eyes?"
Mark looked around, then his eyes lit up when he spotted something.
A voice shouted from behind Aleph.
"Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!"
Five clones popped into existence, surrounding them, all of a guy who looked like the most stereotypical ninja imaginable.
Aleph watched for a few seconds, wondering if someone strong would actually show up.
Eventually, realizing no one else was coming, he sighed lazily.
"Jack Frost. Now."
A small, blue magic circle appeared, and from it, his dear friend Jack manifested.
"Hee-ho!" The little demon cheered, spinning around.
A sharp, heavy snowstorm exploded into the area.
The ninja clones disintegrated before they could take two steps.
Only the original was left, trembling.
"Impossible…" He stammered, while Mark—standing nearby—lost some of the light in his eyes.
His face turned pale.
The ninja gave Mark a few pats on the shoulder, and Mark quickly pulled himself together.
That was the unspoken signal to run.
He leapt toward the walls, summoning clones, smoke bombs, wires, kunai—everything he knew.
Aleph didn't move.
He didn't need to.
From behind him, more magic circles appeared.
Onmoraki and Wendigo materialized.
The ninja tried to climb a pipe to reach the rooftops.
Wendigo pounced, tearing the pipe apart with a single swipe.
He tried using clones to confuse them.
Onmoraki unleashed a fire blast, vaporizing them instantly.
At last, cornered and gasping for air, the young ninja collapsed to his knees in front of Aleph.
His whole body trembled.
Aleph walked forward until he was right in front of him.
Mark had already retreated to what he considered a safe distance, observing everything through a drone.
He couldn't help but click his tongue.
Damn it… the guy had DxD-style powers!
Most likely Annihilation Maker, judging by what he summoned.
…
Aleph leaned forward until his eyes were level with the ninja's and spoke in an icy tone.
[All set, Master. I'll help you use Illusionist to appear as cold and intimidating as possible.]
"Listen closely, trash."
The ninja didn't dare move.
"I'll spare you this once. Not because you deserve it, but because I don't want to dirty my hands with you."
He leaned in even closer.
"But if you… or your pathetic little club of morons…" —a giant ice hammer manifested in his hand— "…even think about pulling some stupid stunt like 'claiming' my friends again… the only thing you'll find is an iceberg. One way bigger than the one that sank the Titanic. Got it?"
The ninja nodded frantically, shaking like a leaf.
Aleph turned around and made a "shoo shoo" gesture with his hand.
"Get out of my sight."
The ninja didn't need to be told twice.
He scurried off like a frightened animal, vanishing into the alley shadows.
Burroughs spoke in his mind.
[Your acting skills are improving, Master. You just need to hold your laughter better—if Illusionist weren't already at the intermediate level, that wouldn't have worked at all.]
"Awesome" Aleph thought, walking back to where he'd been earlier. Hopefully the food stalls were still open.
After all, he still had to bring something back for Stelle and March 7th.
************
The sweet aroma of snacks floated through the air.
Inside the Astral Express kitchen, Aleph softly hummed a tune he'd heard before.
Wearing his new apron—embroidered with a giant Pom-Pom holding a ladle—his face was filled with solemnity as he focused on his mission: to prepare something delicious for Stelle.
He still remembered what happened the last time he took a bit too long.
All he could say was poor March 7th, she didn't deserve to have those teeth marks on her arms.
[Master.] Burroughs' voice echoed in his mind. [I recommend preparing additional desserts. There is a high probability that Stelle will demand more sweets and that March 7th will attempt to steal them.]
Aleph let out a low chuckle.
"I know, Burroughs… I know." He thought, twirling the spatula between his fingers.
The cookie dough spread perfectly across the tray. He was almost done.
Ding.
His phone buzzed, and Burroughs projected the message for him to read.
[Seele: "ALEPH!"]
[Seele: "Don't ignore Bronya, you inconsiderate jerk!"]
[Seele: "Ever since she saw you read her message but didn't reply, she's been staring at her phone all day, sighing."]
[Seele: "I see you're online, don't you dare ignore me too or you'll regret it!"]
[Seele: "Are you there, Aleph?"]
[Seele: "Ahajshsjjjjshsgsu"]
[Seele: "Don't listen to Seele, Aleph! Those are just her assumptions, I know you have things to do too. Sorry about this. I won't let her bother you."]
[Seele: *Sticker of chibi Gepard nodding seriously*]
Aleph smirked wryly as he read through it all.
With everything that happened involving those Illuminati weirdos, he'd completely forgotten to reply to Bronya.
Unfortunately for him, March 7th had seen everything.
"Awww come on, Aleph, give her a chance! You two would look so cute together!"
Aleph gave her a blank stare.
"No cookies for you." He said dryly. March's face froze for a moment before she latched onto him.
"W-Wait! No need to go that far, Aleph! I was just—"
"No desserts for a week."
"Why?!"
"Two weeks."
"Monster!"
"Four weeks."
"…NOOOO!" March wailed with tears in her eyes as she stormed off. "I'm telling Himeko! She'll stop your reign of terror!"
Burroughs' voice chimed in again.
[Would you like me to search the "Perfect Desserts to Go With Coffee" list for a recipe to win over Himeko?]
"That'd be best." Aleph sighed, refocusing.
Those raccoon-shaped cookies Stelle loved so much weren't going to bake themselves.
...
The snacks were nearly ready.
Everything felt a little too quiet, which made him suspicious.
By now, March 7th should have already dragged Himeko in to plead her case, trying to convince him not to do something as cruel as denying dessert to a sweet, innocent girl—or whatever her argument was.
Footsteps echoed nearby.
He turned toward the door.
Pom-Pom burst in like a bullet, panting heavily.
"INTRUDERS!! There are weird people near the outer carriage! They're armed! And they look strange!"
Aleph didn't say a word.
He took off his apron, folded it carefully, and placed it on the table.
He yawned and stretched a bit as he walked toward the exit.
"Ugh. Mind watching the food, Pom-Pom? If Stelle comes, let her take her portion—but if she tries to steal anyone else's, stop her."
"Don't worry, Aleph! With me here, everything's safe!"
*********
Aleph didn't take long to reach the outside.
A group of about twenty people was gathered in front of the Astral Express entrance. Each one looked like they had just walked out of a comic-con.
They wore over-the-top armor, shiny capes, hairstyles straight out of Final Fantasy, and weapons that looked more like cosplay props than actual gear.
And all of them, without exception, wore a badge a golden triangle with an open eye in the center.
Aleph brought a hand to his forehead.
"...Seriously?" He muttered.
"Burroughs, am I really that non-threatening?" He couldn't help but ask.
[He did it well—too well, actually. You know, Master. Just like bugs drawn to electric zappers, these people seem to have come for you.]
One guy stepped forward.
He had glowing green hair styled into a mohawk and wore armor so bulky it looked like he couldn't move his arms without assistance.
Worst part? He was one of the more normal-looking ones.
He cleared his throat.
"You!" He pointed at Aleph with a ringed finger—one that looked suspiciously like a wedding band. "In the name of the Illuminatis, I demand you hand over the Astral Express, its passengers, and all the treasures it carries!"
A chuckle escaped one of his companions.
"And don't forget the girls!" Shouted another from the back, earning some laughs.
Someone else yelled:
"I want the black-haired boy! Dan Heng is hot, and even hotter in his IL form!"
Cheers and whistles followed.
Aleph couldn't help but stare at them blankly.
"These... guys... Are they real?" Forget fighting, forget even talking to them. Just being this close made Aleph feel like he needed to slap at least twenty restraining orders on them.
"Aleph!" March 7th's voice called from behind. "Who's out there? Are they the delivery people? Did my stuff arrive?"
"No, March. Apparently, they're Dan Heng's fan club." He replied, forming an ice bat and starting to coat it in Zionga.
"Oh, Dan Heng has fans? Good for him! Though I bet he doesn't have as many as me!" She said proudly.
Aleph could only smile wryly.
"I... I don't think these are the kind of fans you'd want to have."
...
"Stop giving us a bad name in front of the pink ditz!" Shouted a guy who looked like he came straight out of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure.
"Who're you calling a pink ditz?!" March 7th crossed her arms and gave him a hard glare. "Aleph, who are these weirdos?"
The guy clutched his chest—apparently, instead of intimidating him like she meant to, March only made him fall harder for her.
"Weird people, March. Weird and bad people."
Mark stepped forward.
"Aw, don't be like that! Come on, surrender! We'll give you a lifetime membership to our craft beer club! You've got potential, kid!"
Aleph raised his bat and slammed it into the ground.
A surge of electricity spread out, paralyzing anyone who wasn't quick enough to avoid the shock.
And the ones who dodged in time...
With another swing of the ice bat, a gust of wind slammed into them, launching them through the air.
Then Aleph spoke.
"I'm only going to give you one warning."
These morons hadn't just interrupted his precious kitchen time.
They'd also left everything wide open for Stelle to sneak in and steal everything.
Unforgivable.
The Illuminatis stared back at him.
March 7th pulled out a bag of chips and munched while she watched. Aleph looked seriously annoyed.
"Turn around and vanish." Aleph said. "Forget this day. Forget I exist. Forget you even thought of approaching the Astral Express."
Laughter erupted from the Illuminatis' ranks.
"And if we don't? What then? You gonna scold us? You just got lucky, kid! Now that we've seen what you can do, don't think it'll happen again!"
Aleph rubbed his temple. What was wrong with these people?
[Incredible. And here I thought the dumbest people I'd ever have the misfortune of witnessing were the Master, Stelle, and March 7th.] Even Burroughs couldn't stay quiet this time.
"Hey!" Both Aleph and March yelled.
Aleph cleared his throat.
"In that case..." He said, stretching his arms out.
The Illuminatis blinked, confused.
"Hope you all have good medical insurance, bastards!"
Right after the shout, the Illuminatis looked up…
Only to be greeted by a hailstorm the size of their heads.
"Bwahahaha!"
Darkness swallowed their consciousness as Aleph's evil laughter echoed in the background.
******
Dan Heng arrived shortly after.
"...What happened here? I'm gone for a few hours and come back to a pile of unconscious people."
Aleph stretched lazily.
"Minor issue." He said.
"By the way, how'd it go? Who was that letter from?"
March 7th ran over, standing in front of the unconscious heap with a disbelieving look.
"'Minor issue'? This looks like the end of a bad action movie! Well, I mean, you only roughed them up a bit… and technically, they did ask for it."
Dan Heng ignored March and simply shrugged.
"It was… a strange experience. You could say the letter was from an 'old friend.'"
"'Old friend'?" March's expression turned playful as she leaned toward Dan Heng.
The Vidyadhara sighed.
"No, not that kind of friend, March."
"Hmph. You're no fun."
"My life isn't for your entertainment."
**************
One hour later…
The entire Astral Express crew was gathered in the common room.
Stelle held a plate of cookies, March 7th had a bag of popcorn, and Dan Heng looked like his neutral expression. Pom-Pom, Welt, and Himeko watched silently, a mix of curiosity and confusion on their faces.
"Uh, are you sure this is the right way to give a report? I can see Dan Heng glaring at you for not doing it the usual way."
"Don't worry, March! I mean, sure, my grades were below average in school and I didn't pass a single exam all year..."
"I don't think that's something to be proud of! And why are you backing him up, Stelle?!"
"But you can definitely count on my artistic skills and storytelling prowess!" Aleph replied confidently.
"My puppet is cute." She looked quite pleased, even more so seeing the tiny Jonathan in the puppet's hands.
"That wasn't the question! Although... yeah, the mini-me is pretty adorable."
"Hmph! Of course! Anything created by me, the great Aleph, will naturally be of the highest quality!"
...
In front of everyone, Aleph cleared his throat theatrically. He was wearing a ridiculously shiny cape he'd made just for the occasion and a top hat.
"Ladies, gentlemen, and Dan Hengs in the audience!" He said, pointing dramatically to his left. "I present to you The Grand Avesta Puppet Theater! A faithful, unbiased, and absolutely not exaggerated retelling of our journey through the Luofu — conveyed with sheer objectivity and brilliance."
"That doesn't sound objective at all…" Dan Heng muttered.
"Shhh! The show's starting." Whispered Stelle, visibly excited.
Aleph lifted a bedsheet that served as a curtain. Behind it stood a makeshift puppet stage built from boxes, duct tape, and a concerning amount of glitter and sequins.
First to appear was a puppet clearly meant to be Aleph — though with spikier hair and a bat ten times its size.
"Oh no! A mysterious force has disrupted the balance of the Luofu! And only I, the handsome and very humble Aleph Avesta, can set things right!"
The puppet waved a bat made of cardboard wrapped in aluminum foil.
March nearly choked on her popcorn.
"Where are we?! You didn't do everything alone, you know?!"
"Silence in the audience!" Aleph scolded, pointing with a cane he had "borrowed" from Welt. "Art demands creative freedom. Your words are void due to your allegiance to the Enigma."
"That doesn't even make sense!"
"Your face doesn't make sense!"
Next came a puppet of Dan Heng — or at least that was the intention. It had half-asleep eyes drawn on and a spear made from a skewer. The face was utterly expressionless.
"We must proceed with caution." Aleph said in a deep voice, imitating Dan Heng.
Dan Heng raised an eyebrow.
"That's supposed to be me? I hadn't even left the Astral Express yet."
"Yeah, it's actually pretty accurate, don't you think?" Stelle chimed in.
"…My puppet looks like a lizard wearing my clothes."
"Don't question my creative vision, Dan Heng!"
The appearances of the puppets of Tingyun, Yukong—represented by an owl wearing sunglasses—and Jing Yuan—a figure with a yarn mane and a small sign that read "Too handsome to be here"—soon followed.
"Capture the mysterious intruder Kafka!" Yukong shouted with an indignant voice.
"Let's move out!" Said the Aleph puppet. "Time to kick some fancy butt and pet some foxy tails and ears!"
"…You're not even trying to hide your real desires, are you?" March muttered as she listened.
What followed was a parade of madness.
Chases after Kafka's cryptic clues, a confrontation where for some reason the March puppet ended up with hair like a bird's nest, and a dramatic entrance by Fu Xuan descending from the ceiling tied to ropes and confetti. Finally, the entry to the Sanctum of Exaltation—represented by a shoebox with lit sparklers.
Pom-Pom shot him a look that almost screamed, "If you burn the Express, I'll throw you out myself."
Then came the food scene.
"Finally, peace and food!" Shouted the Aleph puppet, falling to its knees before a plate drawn on paper.
"Oh no, I'm broke!" It cried, hugging the March 7th puppet, who pulled out a golden card labeled "Generosity."
Stelle raised a fist—she looked pretty annoyed.
"And then those weirdos in hoods showed up and ruined our meal!"
The Sanctus Medicus puppets had red bandages.
Then came Tingyun being tempted by the food, and a furious dragon made of plastic bottles appeared overhead.
"I just wanted to eat in peace!" Aleph shouted as he flung his puppet into the stage in tornado mode.
"Himeko... why did you let Aleph do this?" Welt whispered.
"Mmm, they seemed pretty stressed after everything that happened, and I wanted to hear what they did on the Luofu." Himeko said, sipping her coffee. "Though I never expected this to be the result of what Aleph promised would be his… 'Special Report.'"
After a brief pause to tape the remnants of the stage back together, Qingque's puppet appeared—represented by a mahjong tile and a snack bag.
"Welcome to the Divination Commission. Now leave me alone, I need to win so I can eat tomorrow."
They narrated the attack on the entrance, the Ambrosia Tree (a houseplant decorated with LED lights), and finally the intimate scene in the interrogation room.
Kafka was portrayed by an elegant puppet with purple hair and a sultry voice.
"It's been a long time, you extremely handsome young man I definitely don't know." She said.
The Aleph puppet froze.
Everyone noticed the change in tone.
A second later, an explosion of green and gold confetti shook the stage.
"The tree has revived! Sanctus Medicus succeeded! We have officially entered the phase of…!" Aleph paused.
Pom-Pom clapped once.
"That was… something."
Finally, the Aleph puppet knelt before a Stelle plushie.
"Thanks to my incredible companions, and my completely unquestionable decision-making under pressure, we survived. But most importantly… we learned something."
He turned to the audience.
"What did we learn?" Welt asked, intrigued—Aleph had earned a couple of points for making his puppet a stylish robot.
Aleph paused, slowly lowered the curtain, then peeked out from under it with a grin.
"That you should never leave the kitchen unattended when Stelle's around."
"Objection! That lesson is utterly meaningless and completely false!" Stelle shouted from the back—though she still had crumbs in her mouth.
"And with that, the end of Act One!" Aleph cried.
**********************************************************************************************
Well, this Omake can be considered semi-canonical, all things considered.
Omake: Shock Therapy
Act 1: For Science
Inside Herta's office.
Herta, the self-proclaimed genius of the station (and whom no one dared contradict for fear of waking up as a talking rug), stood proudly in front of a large touchscreen, arms crossed with smug satisfaction.
"Project Psyche 404 is ready." She announced, flashing a smile more befitting a cartoon villain than a responsible scientist. "Studying the emotional and mental resilience of humans who carry Stellarons without turning into mental soup. I'll admit I had my doubts when you first suggested this, but it's turned out to be a fascinating little hobby between jobs."
Beside her, Ruan Mei nodded.
"A deep dive into the human subconscious through induced stimuli... Do you think they'll still be usable as guine— I mean, valid test subjects after this experiment?"
"Mm, no idea. But that's the beauty of experiments, isn't it?" Herta replied, pressing a button that brought up live footage of Stelle and Aleph, unsuspecting, sitting in the adjacent room. "That's why this is going to be so much fun."
Screwllum offered his thoughts on the project.
"Shouldn't we at least inform them?"
"And ruin the authenticity of their reactions? Are you trying to kill science, Screwllum?" Herta asked, raising a brow.
"I just want to avoid a lawsuit."
"Pfft. Let them try. Legally, they're asleep and already signed something the moment they first entered the Simulated Universe. Everything's legit—I double-checked it with the pink gremlin's legal team."
"You mean Lady Asta?"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever her name is."
Ruan Mei offered each of the subjects a special cupcake. Aleph, as usual, accepted his with a smile and ate it slowly. Stelle, on the other hand, devoured hers in two bites without even asking.
"Did it have sprinkles? Tasted good."
....
Five minutes later, both of them dropped like stones.
"And now…" Herta said with a yawn. "let the show begin."
On the screen, the simulation activated.
A new area of the Simulated Universe, labeled "PSYCHE 404." loaded in with a digital hum.
Fragments of memories, abstract symbols, repressed emotions, and shapeless fears began to take form in warped landscapes twisted by their own subconscious minds.
"Conditions are optimal." Announced one of Herta's numerous puppets. "Subjects submerged. Heart rates rising. Brainwaves fluctuating. Diagnosis: intense emotional experience initiated."
"Excellent." Ruan Mei said. "Now let's see who cries first."
As the screen showed the dreams beginning to take shape, Herta stepped back with pride, as if she'd just painted a masterpiece.
"Science does not pause for morality." She declared. "We might not get anything useful out of this, but at least it'll be good entertainment to kill some time. That alone can count as a small success, right?"
...........
Act 2: Getting Left Behind Hurts
Stelle opened her eyes.
She blinked a couple of times as she slowly sat up from the couch. Everything was brighter.
"Huh...? Did I sleep that long?" She murmured, scratching her head.
"Where... am I? Is this Belobog after the festival? No… it's way too clean."
Everything around her shimmered with vibrant colors, like something out of a well-funded animated series. She walked down the hallway of the train car, feeling strangely light. That's when she noticed the portraits hanging on the walls—images of the crew...
All of them clearly older. More mature.
Dan Heng looked like a prince straight out of one of those drama shows she sometimes watched with March 7th, only with a hairstyle that seemed to defy several laws of physics. He looked like the cover model for a luxury cologne brand, surrounded by flowers, autographs, and what seemed to be fan letters.
"What the hell…? Dan Heng Fan Club?"
There were posters of March 7th holding a fan event in the city.
Even the radio broadcast mentioned the launch of her new makeup line.
[March 7th – Timeless Radiance.]
Himeko was still herself… except now she was a leather-clad racecar driver for some bizarre reason.
Welt Yang looked exactly the same. Welt is always just... Welt.
Before she could fully process everything, a deep voice spoke from behind her.
"Stelle, you're finally awake."
And Aleph...
Stelle froze when she saw him.
She turned around quickly. Her heart skipped a beat.
It was Aleph. But... not the Aleph she knew.
He was taller, stood with perfect posture, his hair a bit longer, and wore a calm, mature... and unfairly attractive expression.
"Aleph!" She cried out in relief and threw herself at him like she always did, aiming to climb onto his lap and hug him tight.
But this time, he stepped aside with a peaceful smile.
"You've grown up, Stelle. You don't need that anymore, right?"
The words hit her like a slap. She hung there in midair, feeling something crack inside her chest. She looked at her hands. Her legs. Her reflection in a nearby metal panel.
She hadn't changed.
Stelle felt a vein twitch in her temple.
"What the hell is going on here?!"
Same height. Same clothes. Same face that earned her nicknames like "semi-loli," as Aleph would joke. Only now... it didn't feel like a joke anymore.
"But... what's happening? Why is everyone... different?"
Aleph gently patted her head like she was a small child.
Somehow, that hurt more than any condescending words could have.
"It's natural. We all grow up. Even you, in your own way."
She wanted to say something, argue, bite his hand if necessary. But before she could respond, she heard a soft laugh.
Descending the stairs of the train car was Bronya. She looked like a true noblewoman, even with a strangely motherly aura—but what really caught Stelle's eye was the way Aleph moved toward her. The way he wrapped his arm around her. The way he looked at her with that kind of affection...
Affection that once felt like it belonged to her alone.
And then she saw it.
A ring.
On Aleph's left hand. And a matching one on Bronya's.
"Isn't it a bit early for the sleepyhead to be up?" Bronya said kindly.
Stelle felt the world tilt.
As a final blow, a young girl ran up to them. She had Bronya's natural elegance but Aleph's golden eyes. Her hair was long and pale, and she smiled with the same goofy expression Aleph made when he was truly happy.
"Daddy! Daddy, look what I drew!"
Aleph crouched down and lifted her with ease, kissing her forehead.
"A real artist. Where did you learn to draw so well?"
The girl giggled, delighted. Bronya joined them, wrapping her arms around the two in a warm family embrace.
Stelle didn't know when she dropped to her knees.
"No... this can't be... This isn't real…" She whispered.
But no one heard her.
She was just... adorable Stelle. The eternal little girl of the Express.
The most beloved mascot—second only to Pom-Pom.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
The silence that followed her scream was soon drowned out by Sunday playing an off-key sad tune on a violin.
A raccoon in suspiciously similar clothing walked by in the distance, holding a bouquet of flowers that definitely had a bat hidden inside.
"Go, do a crime." It said before disappearing.
********
Cut to Herta's office.
Ruan Mei was humming as she jotted more notes in her notebook.
"Intense emotional response, insecurity expression, self-image trauma… This is quite entertaining."
Herta munched on chips as she watched it all unfold.
"See? I told you this would be more fun than testing gravitational stress on Arlan or helping Screwllum with the Differentiated Universe."
***********
Act 3: Duckpocalypse Now
Aleph's eyes snapped open.
He coughed up dust, smoke, and… feathers? He sat up, gasping, and looked around.
He was in the middle of a post-apocalyptic battlefield, covered in craters, rubble, and shattered statues of fallen heroes…
That all suspiciously looked like ducks.
Suddenly, a buff monkey with scars, sunglasses, and a cigar between his teeth slammed him on the back so hard it nearly knocked his soul out.
"Move it, soldier!" Barked the monkey in a gravelly voice. "The ducks are gaining ground!"
Aleph barely had time to react before the sky thundered and dozens of blimp-sized rubber ducks soared through the clouds, dropping egg-shaped bombs that exploded with sonic quacks upon impact.
"What the hell…?" Aleph muttered, eyes wide as dinner plates.
Suddenly, a massive screen rose from the ground like something out of Times Square. On it appeared a duck general, wearing a Soviet officer's cap, with a scar across one eye and a matching cigar.
"AVESTA!" The duck bellowed in an over-the-top Russian accent. "FILTHY TRAITOR TO MOTHERLAND! SURRENDER NOW OR FACE THE WRATH OF THE FLOCK!"
Aleph blinked twice. Then three times. Then a fourth, just to be sure.
"What the…?"
"No time, soldier!" The monkey shook him violently. "The Mononators are coming!"
In the distance, cybernetic gorillas with glowing red eyes began marching in formation, Rambo-style, firing laser beams from their metallic arms.
Aleph gritted his teeth and reached for his magic.
Or at least he tried to.
His gauntlet let out a loud QUACK.
Then another. Then a little jingle like a rubber duck being squeezed, while the screen flashed a smiling duck face.
"No… no, no, no…" He whispered.
Why couldn't he use his magic?
He didn't even need Burroughs for that!
He tried to open his menu.
QUACK.
He tried to summon Oni.
QUACK QUACK.
"Burroughs!" he shouted, panicked. "What the hell is going on?!"
Burroughs' voice emerged… but not in the way he hoped.
[Oh dear Aleph, brave and bold, if it's my help you seek… you're out in the cold!]
"…Don't start."
What was this awful feeling blooming in his chest?
[The ducks arrived, of feather and steel, and now you're alone… what a surreal ordeal!]
"Burroughs…"
[If your cute little AI may offer a tip—embrace the madness… or learn how to swim.]
"…I give up."
Aleph dove into a trench, hugging his knees in fetal position as chaos roared around him.
"They knew… They knew everything…" he muttered, trembling. "From the beginning… those feathers… those cold eyes… those damned, evil ducks…"
He muttered curses under his breath as epic, dramatic music swelled in the background.
On top of a turret, a breakdancing duck spun on its head, sparks flying, striking impossible poses… as the world burned around them.
....
Act 4: Collapse
In her office, Herta watched the simulation on the giant screen with a neutral expression...
Beside her, Ruan Mei frowned.
"Are they seriously still useful… in this state?" She asked.
Herta slowly turned her head, never taking her eyes off the screen.
"Mmm, what do you mean? The emotional breakdown of the insecure idiot, or the interstellar bird war the buffoon got himself into?"
On the screen, Stelle was curled up in a corner of her simulation, clutching a plushie of Aleph tightly as her tears fell endlessly. Around her were piles of money bags and random objects.
"I promise… I promise I won't stay up late anymore… I promise I'll drink all my milk… hic…" She mumbled between sobs, rocking like an abandoned child.
In another window, Aleph was strapping homemade explosives to his body while a helmeted monkey helped him adjust the wires.
"This is for all of you… for the fallen…" He whispered with a blank stare. "For Oni. For Nappea. For all the brothers who died in battle… and for you, Chimpan Heng."
In the corner, Screwllum crossed his arms.
"Interesting. It's only been a few minutes and their minds already seem on the verge of total collapse."
Ruan Mei tilted her head.
"Lady Herta, this is too much. If this keeps going, their minds will completely collapse, and we won't get any usable data."
Herta nodded, expressionless.
"Hmm… I guess that's one way to see it." She tilted her head. "Honestly, I just wanted to see what would happen."
Screwllum let out a mechanical sigh.
"What if… we pull them out?"
"Now?" Herta blinked in disbelief. "Right when the idiot's about to join a terrorist cult and the buffoon is planning to bomb the ducks' main base to the beat of breakdance?"
Everyone looked at the screen.
At that moment, Aleph was riding a heavily armored motorcycle, a taxidermied duck strapped to the front like a trophy. Music blared as he sped straight toward the central airship, screaming:
"Vengeance, you feathery bastards!"
Meanwhile, Stelle was hugging her plushie even tighter. Her eyes had gained a dangerous gleam.
"I want… I want to go back to Aleph's lap… I want him to carry me… I want him to call me pretty… I want…" She murmured as the plushie exploded in her arms from how tightly she was squeezing it.
Herta shrugged.
"Who'd have thought humans with Stellarons were so… fragile?"
Screwllum massaged his metallic forehead.
The screen flickered. Alarms started blaring.
SIMULATED SYSTEM: CRITICAL INSTABILITY. COLLAPSE IN 10… 9… 8…
Herta checked her watch.
"Oh well. I guess we'll wake them up before the Simulated Universe implodes."
Ruan Mei sighed in defeat.
"In the end, we didn't get anything useful from this."
The three of them turned to see one last shot of Aleph soaring through the sky on his explosive bike, arms wide open, screaming:
"Quack this, you bastards!"
*********
Stelle jolted awake, breathing hard, like she'd just snapped out of a fever dream. Without thinking, she lunged at Aleph, hugging him tightly and burying her face in his chest.
"Don't go near Bronya or I swear I'll beat you until you're unrecognizable, Aleph!" She gasped, still tearful.
Aleph didn't respond right away. He was sitting in silence, staring off into space with an expression that wasn't fear or sadness, but something beyond. His golden eyes, normally bright, were now dull, distant… empty.
A chill ran through Stelle as she looked at his face. Slowly, she leaned in to hear him better.
Barely audible, like a whisper carried by a spectral wind, Aleph murmured:
"Don't let them in… the ducks… the ducks remember…"
Stelle stepped back, pale as a ghost.
Back in her office, Herta quietly typed on her tablet with an eerily calm expression.
"Preliminary conclusion: complete failure."
Beside her, Ruan Mei let out a long sigh, resting a hand on her forehead.
"I think… we better leave them alone for a while. They're not… recoverable yet."
…....
Back at the Space Station, Stelle and Aleph walked silently toward the dining hall, both with the under-eye bags of a week without sleep, dragging their feet, half-souled.
When they entered, Himeko was waiting by the drinks machine, smiling warmly with two steaming cups.
"Guys… come here. I made you some hot chocolate."
Without a word, they both sat beside her, taking the mugs like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Himeko watched them with concern.
"Do you want to… talk about what happened?"
Stelle and Aleph looked at each other for a moment. Then, in unison, they shook their heads.
"No one's ever going to talk about this. Ever." Said Stelle, taking a sip of the cocoa.
Aleph just murmured, still staring into nothing.
"No one."
Unseen by anyone, a duck in a Soviet cap floated in the vacuum of space, watching them intently.