Inside the System Space, Baiheng squatted in a corner, hugging her knees, her snow-white fox ears drooping dispiritedly. Her mind had already combined keywords like "master," "imprisonment," "pink-haired girl," and "chains" to enact countless dramas, from tragic to horrifying.
She even began to worry if the fur from her Tail would also be taken to make some strange decorations.
Finally, the vanished black door reappeared silently and then opened.
Madam Herta walked out from behind the door, her expression as calm and unruffled as ever, as if she wasn't the one who had failed dozens of times downstairs, made a little girl cry, and then fled in a panic.
(Actual inner thoughts: I squatted on the stairs, holding my head and silently screaming for a full three minutes! 'Ahhh, what did I just do?! Hugging her and saying sorry then running away?! What kind of pure love boy's escape scene is this?! Although Cyrene was indeed small and soft and quite nice to hug... Stop it! Black Herta! Your persona! Your gravitas!' After an intense internal struggle and deep breaths, she forcibly suppressed the feeling of social death and a hint of an inexplicable joy from hugging someone, resuming her cold and elegant demeanor.)
She walked to the side without glancing sideways, summoned the system panel, and began to browse the scrolling data, seemingly conducting some important research.
Baiheng cautiously raised her head, looked at the reappearing door, then at Madam Herta's emotionless back, and the strangely shaped system puppet quietly standing beside Madam Herta.
Intense curiosity scratched at her heart like a kitten's paw.
She began to move inch by inch, extremely slowly, like a small animal trying to approach dangerous food, towards the door.
"You can go in and take a look."
Madam Herta spoke suddenly, her back to her, her voice flat, betraying no emotion.
She did not turn around, her gaze still fixed on the panel, as if she had merely spoken on a whim.
"She might... need someone to talk to now."
This was actually an implicit permission and instruction for Baiheng to comfort Cyrene, who had just experienced a baffling "drama."
Baiheng was startled at first, then a joyous smile bloomed on her face, her azure eyes instantly brightening: "Thank you, Master!"
She immediately forgot all those terrifying associations, and like a pardoned little rabbit, she thanked her cheerfully and then scurried into the black door.
Only Madam Herta and the system remained in the space.
Madam Herta closed the panel, tilted her head slightly, and looked at the system puppet beside her, a hint of undetectable weariness in her voice: "How much (repair progress) does it take to completely free them... from this state?"
She was referring to all Golden Descendants restrained or affected by the power of the Iron Tomb.
The system puppet's purplish-red inverted cross eyes flickered, and it precisely reported a number: "Replying, Madam Herta, preliminary estimate, the core repair progress needs to reach 50%."
"50%..."
Madam Herta closed her eyes, repeating the number.
A deep weariness suddenly washed over her.
Ever since she inexplicably became like this and bound to this system,
She had almost never stopped—being hunted, saving people, playing the villain, acting, stealing things... her mind had always been tense.
Although this body was not flesh and blood, her consciousness still felt tired.
She needed rest, a place where she could truly relax.
She glanced around this boundless, oppressively pure white space and frowned: "Can this place... be changed? It's uncomfortable to look at."
She yearned for a bit of color, a breath of life.
The system puppet's answer was still formulaic: "Apologies, Madam Herta. Basic rule modification and environmental decoration of the System Space require your repair progress to reach above 50% to unlock permissions."
Madam Herta sighed helplessly.
It was not that simple, after all.
"Then... there must be a place to rest, right? Not to mention me, that girl Baiheng surely needs a bed, right?"
"Please wait."
The system puppet bowed slightly, then waved its hand in the air.
An ordinary-looking wooden doorframe appeared out of thin air, standing steadily on the pure white ground.
Inside the door, it was no longer the void of white, but radiated a warm glow.
The system puppet turned sideways, making a standard "please" gesture, its posture as elegant as if inviting a VIP into a top-tier salon.
Madam Herta raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in her eyes, and stepped inside.
The system quietly followed behind her.
The sight inside the door made her slightly pause.
This was a rather cozy space, similar to a spacious living room.
Soft, comfortable sofas, a woven rug, and even a small bar and bookshelf nearby.
Warm lighting cascaded down, dispelling the coldness of the System Space.
Most astonishingly, one side was not a wall, but a huge panoramic window. Outside the window was the boundless sea of stars, stars like diamonds twinkling on a black velvet curtain, slowly flowing backward.
"Tsk tsk," Madam Herta looked around, a touch of surprise in her tone, "I didn't expect you to hide such a nice place?"
This environment was much more comfortable than the vast white expanse outside.
But soon, she felt a subtle abnormality.
She found that she seemed to... be able to use some abilities?
It was no longer the completely isolated state within the System Space.
Moreover, a rhythmic vibration came from beneath her feet.
She instinctively concentrated, extending her perception.
The next second, her expression became somewhat strange, then gradually shifted to one of incredible astonishment.
This familiar layout... this viewing angle from the window... this was not an independent safe house at all!
This was the carriage of the Astral Express!
And her current location seemed to be the Tail end of the Astral Express!
This realization hit Madam Herta like a heavy hammer, completely dumbfounding her.
She sharply turned her head, her gaze like electricity shooting towards the system puppet, who was nonchalantly tidying the cushions on the sofa, her eyes filled with the oppressive demand, "You'd better give me an explanation."
The system puppet felt her gaze, stopped its movements, turned around, and began to explain in its unperturbed electronic voice:
"Replying, Madam Herta, this residence is a'small gift' from The Aeon of Elation."
It paused, seemingly retrieving precise records, "His exact words were: 'Hehe, did you really think I only blew up the Astral Express back then? Lol, of course I also conveniently took a few carriages! Keep having fun! You poor thing!'"
Madam Herta: "..."
The corner of her mouth twitched violently, feeling her blood pressure rise a bit.
She looked around this warm and comfortable carriage again; no wonder it felt both familiar and out of place!
So, this was actually "stolen" from the original Astral Express!
Aha, your move is truly too "Elation"-like!
"Then... won't we be discovered?"
Madam Herta asked, pressing her throbbing temples.
"Please rest assured, Madam Herta."
The system puppet replied, "These few carriages we are in are protected by the power of The Aeon of Elation, forming an independent cognitive barrier. As long as we do not actively open the door connecting to the main Astral Express,"
It pointed to a seemingly ordinary door at the other end of the living room, blending seamlessly with the interior.
"From the main Astral Express's observation, we do not exist here, and the aura of the Lord of Silence can also be effectively isolated. Of course, if that door is opened, the barrier will temporarily fail, but we will have enough buffer time to re-close and reactivate the stealth."
Madam Herta looked in the direction it pointed; that door indeed looked very ordinary.
"So, behind that door is..."
"Yes, Madam Herta."
The system puppet confirmed, "Behind the door is the normal Astral Express carriage corridor. According to current monitoring, most of the Astral Express Crew members are currently active within the Herta Space Station, and only the Conductor Pom-Pom is performing daily cleaning inside the Astral Express."
It even added a sentence in its flat tone, as if introducing a tourist attraction: "If Madam Herta is interested, you can also go to the Astral Express bar through that door. The bartender, shut up, after some'small negotiations,' can now be considered our external assisting personnel."
Madam Herta pressed her forehead, feeling speechless with so many things to complain about.
What in the world is all this?!
Stealing carriages was one thing, but even NPCs were turned?
This is truly abstraction's mother opening the door for abstraction—abstract to the extreme!
She let out a long sigh, giving up on dwelling on it.
Exhausted both physically and mentally, she chose to temporarily compromise with this absurd reality.
She languidly walked towards the incredibly soft-looking sofa, sank into it, and elegantly crossed her legs.
The system puppet beside her immediately brought a drink with tiny bubbles and a dreamy color from somewhere, respectfully offering it.
Madam Herta took the drink, gently swirling it, her gaze falling on the Herta Space Station, which was almost within reach outside another panoramic window.
The Astral Express was quietly docked beside the platform.
This feeling was indeed very... peculiar.
It was like a mysterious BOSS, stirring up trouble from behind the scenes, not in some dark corner or interdimensional space, but brazenly living right next door to the protagonist's group, even sharing the same Astral Express with them, able to hear Conductor Pom-Pom humming and cleaning in the next carriage.
This extreme contrast, bringing a sense of absurdity and a hidden thrill, perhaps... was also a form of "Elation" in a way.