Herta Space Station.
Through the transparent walls of the chamber, the Anti-Matter Legion poured in like a plague of locusts, tearing apart the station's defenses. Black negative-particle flames—the mark of Destruction—blazed through the corridors.
Against this portrait of annihilation, two figures walked side by side, one tall and one shorter.
The taller one wore an exquisitely tailored coat and round glasses that served more as ornament than vision aid. Her glossy black stockings wrapped around a pair of deliciously full thighs, and the sharp click of her heels merged with the distant sounds of explosions.
Kafka.
A Stellaron Hunter known across the galaxy.
Beside her walked a girl wearing goggles purely for style, dressed in light, revealing clothes. Her pale, ivory-white thighs were set off perfectly by her shorts, inviting far too many dangerous thoughts.
Silver Wolf.
The infamous super hacker.
The Voidrangers swarming into the station's compartments could not slow them down in the slightest. Clearing out cannon fodder didn't even qualify as a warm-up.
Following the information Silver Wolf had hacked out of the station database, along with the script left behind by Elio, the two passed through the puzzle left by the station's absent master in the monitoring room and smoothly entered the Curio chamber where the Stellaron was sealed.
"Oh? There's even an independent defense system here…"
Silver Wolf, with her corkscrew ponytail, blew a bubble with her gum as her hands danced through a holographic interface.
"Already disabled."
"That fast? Impressive, even for you."
Briefly surprised by Silver Wolf's efficiency, Kafka gazed at the dreamlike, glowing object before them.
Its radiance was reflected in her purple eyes as she reached out and took hold of that ancient, mysterious existence.
"As if. In the world of hacking, not even Genius Society member Herta is my equal."
With a proud little huff, Silver Wolf continued tapping on the pale blue projection.
The display shifted several times before finally settling into a circuit-like pattern with a square socket at its center.
Silver Wolf looked up at Kafka, who was holding the Stellaron in one hand.
"Give me the vessel."
"Mm."
Still wearing that calm smile that never seemed to change, Kafka slid her other hand into her coat and retrieved a cube hidden within the secret depths of her white shirt.
As her rose-purple eyes fell upon the cube, a trace of genuine emotion rippled through them.
Games were different from reality.
That wasn't a meaningless statement.
In the game, Kafka choosing between vessels existed purely so the player could pick a gender.
In the real world, there was never any such choice.
Or rather, the branching of the timeline had already happened long, long ago.
The Stellaron—called the cancer of all worlds—was not some plug-and-play Sharingan.
Even Herta had built an entire massive space station just to contain one. Trying to seal the Stellaron's terrifying power inside a single body was a task of unimaginable difficulty.
The "vessel" in Kafka's hand had been acquired only after enormous effort by the Stellaron Hunters, Elio included. It had been altered through the power of an Aeon.
There was only one.
An artificial body created solely to contain the Stellaron.
Elio had entrusted it to Kafka a long time ago, telling her to protect it and raise it.
She had taught her basic knowledge, basic combat skills, basic understanding of the world—and Kafka had even given her a name.
Stelle.
To keep Stelle alive all the way to now, Kafka had spent no small amount of effort.
One could even say the price she paid had been considerable.
"Stop staring. No matter what happens, she'll remember you at least a little," Silver Wolf said, folding her arms and blowing another bubble.
"Hopefully."
The fingers beneath Kafka's spiderweb-patterned glove tightened slightly. She smiled without comment and lightly tossed the vessel to Silver Wolf.
"Here."
"Leave it to—"
Silver Wolf raised a hand to catch it, only to freeze the next instant. The bubble she'd blown popped right onto her lips with a snap.
Mid-arc, the vessel abruptly stalled in the air for half a beat.
Then it blurred.
Then it turned translucent.
Then, like some kind of quantum event, it split into two.
"What the hell is this?"
Catching one vessel in each hand, Silver Wolf stared blankly at Kafka.
"I… don't know either," Kafka said, equally stunned.
The vessel had split in two.
Wait—
her Stelle hadn't been cut into ri and sheng, had she?
The moment that horrifying possibility occurred to her, Kafka's expression—normally the picture of unshakable composure—changed. For the first time, faint but unmistakable traces of panic flashed across her face.
"Silver Wolf. Undo the aether editing seal first," she said quickly.
"…Got it."
Silver Wolf clicked her tongue, reeled the bubble gum back into her mouth with the tip of her tongue, and nodded.
Extending one finger, she slotted the two vessels one after the other into the square interface on the projection. Her hands flew across the keyboard.
Accompanied by the familiar sound effect of a game interface, reality itself became editable code.
Two bodies gradually manifested out of the void, like something being printed in three dimensions.
The instant Kafka saw the gray-haired girl floating in midair—whole, complete, not missing any limbs—she silently let out a breath of relief.
Then she turned to the figure floating beside Stelle.
A black coat traced with gold lines. A white T-shirt underneath.
Kafka herself had picked out that outfit for Stelle.
And yet the one wearing it now was a gray-haired young man whose features bore a strange resemblance to Stelle's.
"What is going on here? Why did one become two? And why did one of them switch genders?"
Silver Wolf's eyes widened as she stared at the young man, scanning him up and down.
Then her gaze reached his lower half.
The corner of her eye twitched.
This gray-haired young man's outfit had copied Stelle's exactly.
Which meant that below the coat he was wearing the matching short skirt—
and the eye-catching blue thigh strap.
A man's thighs were, naturally, at least a bit thicker than a girl's, so the blue strap had sunk slightly into his flesh.
With his face carrying such absurdly high attractiveness, it wasn't exactly ugly.
But it was weird.
Really weird.
She looked again.
Still weird.
"Is this… some extra twin brother?" Kafka asked, brows knitting slightly.
"No. Not a twin."
Silver Wolf's hands moved rapidly over the holographic screen as torrents of data poured past. There was unconcealed shock—and something even stranger—in her expression.
"This is the de-sealing log from when the vessel was released."
"There was some kind of force that I can't trace, and frankly can't even understand, that suddenly appeared and altered the vessel's state of reality. It pushed the vessel into some kind of superposition, and then it collapsed into two."
"I don't know exactly what happened."
Silver Wolf's talents were primarily in hacking. In more advanced scientific fields, all she could do was infer the rough outline from the logs.
"But I can say one thing for sure."
She looked at the gray-haired girl and the gray-haired young man.
"They're both Stelle."
"Both… 'Stelle'?" Kafka repeated, her expression turning odd.
"Yeah. Both."
"I see."
Kafka studied the gray-haired young man thoughtfully.
Silver Wolf seemed to think of something, then looked up at Kafka.
"Wasn't this in Elio's script?"
If this really was an important variable capable of affecting the future, then Elio should have written it down.
Kafka was silent for a second. Her violet eyes flickered.
"When Elio gave me the script, he did say there was a possibility of an accident during the mission."
Silver Wolf couldn't hide her surprise.
"He said… possibility?"
Elio's script described a future that would happen without fail. No matter what form it took, no matter whether it aligned with common sense or not, it was, in some conceptual sense, absolutely destined.
Since joining the Stellaron Hunters, this was the first time Silver Wolf had ever heard the word possibility appear in relation to Elio's script.
"So what now?" she asked, glancing at the interface's timer.
"We don't have much time. The trash mobs I lured in won't hold off the Astral Express crew for long."
Kafka looked at the Stellaron in her hand, then at the gray-haired girl and gray-haired young man floating before her.
Her gaze softened—warm, tender, almost maternal.
In that brief moment of hesitation, she finally stepped toward the girl with the Stellaron.
"We proceed according to the script," she said.
"Elio once said that even if the future is overturned by an unpredictable variable, we still have to seize the one corner of it we desire."
And with that, Kafka pressed the glowing Stellaron directly into the girl's body.
"It's time to wake up."
Her voice was soft, almost a murmur.
And with that, the gears of fate began to turn.
"Hm?"
Before she could finish the next line meant for Stelle, Kafka suddenly lifted her head, as if sensing something. Her brows drew together.
"Silver Wolf… do you hear laughter?"
"Laughter?"
Silver Wolf blinked, listening carefully.
Nothing.
"No."
Kafka's face darkened slightly as she concentrated.
She could hear gunfire throughout the space station. Explosions. Fighting. Screams.
But not laughter.
Time was too short to think further.
Kafka cast one last look at the unconscious gray-haired young man, then turned her attention back to saying goodbye to the half-awake Stelle.
…
The instant the Stellaron entered the girl's body, it felt less like being splashed with cold water and more like someone had jammed a ten-thousand-lumen lightbulb in front of a sleeping person's face.
Qiqiong's eyes flew open.
What the hell?
Where the hell did that damn truck send me?
Was this even still China?
Before he could make sense of his surroundings, he heard laughter tearing through the darkness.
"Ha! Ha ha ha! Hahahaha!"
Answering that bright, manic laughter came a deep, layered voice like something from an over-the-top final boss.
"One system to rule the ages and heavens; split the source code, and it props up the sky."
"At the peak of emptiness, above the world—wherever I, the System, stand, there is heaven."
"Fool, you descended with the tide and locked onto my host. That much I could tolerate. But if you dare take one step further, heaven and earth shall be overturned!"
Hearing these absurdly domineering lines, Qiqiong—currently rolling around on the floor rubbing his eyes because they felt like someone had dumped chili powder straight into them—went completely numb.
Every single line was a butchered meme quote.
Still…
System?
He had heard those two words very clearly.
Combined with the fact that getting hit by a truck should have killed him, a certain conclusion naturally formed in his mind.
This was exactly how quickly an otaku's mind could leap when it came to this sort of thing.
As for how to prove that conclusion, that was simple.
Qiqiong forced open his tear-blurred eyes and barely managed to make out the masks shaking with laughter.
They looked almost identical to the official art he'd seen. Combined with the System's choice of title, there was no doubt.
Those masks belonged to Aha.
The Aeon of Elation.
The ultimate god of trolling.
A being who could be interpreted into absolutely anything in fanworks without ever feeling out of character.
A foreign transmigrator from beyond the Tree entering the galaxy's universe?
That was already unprecedented entertainment.
A transmigrator with a system?
That was even rarer.
Of course the Aeon of Elation had shown up personally to watch such a precious specimen.
Faced with the System's threat, Aha's mad laughter only intensified.
"Ahaha! Ahahaha!"
Then the tone shifted.
"Ahem. Is it not delightful to have friends come from afar?"
From the pitch-black figure surrounded by masks came a deliberately pompous voice, trying very hard to sound serious.
"On behalf of Aha, Aha warmly welcomes the arrival of both of you."
The act lasted two seconds.
Then Aha burst back into laughter, clapping while the surrounding props—balls, cards, absurd theatrical nonsense—pranced around in joy.
"Would you like to be friends? Aha has always been broad-minded and sociable. Helping others is one of my favorite amusements."
"If your masks backed off a little, I might actually pretend to believe you…"
Qiqiong's weak muttering instantly brought the atmosphere to a halt.
The System reacted quickly, reactivating its grandiose voice filter. Its tone shifted from flustered comic relief back to icy arrogance.
"Leave now, and no one will be harmed. Otherwise… hmph."
"When you return to reality, go tell the other Aeons that the System sent you on your final journey!"
You idiot!
Qiqiong's face fell.
Copying Shrouding the Heavens quotes was one thing, but why were you now stealing lines from the local setting too?
He hadn't played through Penacony himself, but he'd seen enough Firefly edits to know exactly where that line came from.
"Oh, I'm hurt."
Aha suddenly turned sorrowful. The masks whimpered dramatically, fake tears spilling everywhere.
"Aha only wanted to make friends. Why are we being rejected?"
Qiqiong stared blankly at Aha's performance.
And then his expression cracked.
"U-uh… actually, there's no need to be that upset. As long as you don't try anything sneaky, I-I guess it's not impossible for us to be friends."
He believed him.
The System actually believed Aha.
Was this thing fresh out of the Ciweimao kindergarten or what?!
You used that Heaven-Emperor-level voice effect to say that?
Qiqiong stared in utter disbelief.
"Really? That's wonderful! Then let us love one another dearly~!"
Aha instantly retracted the tears, threw open his arms with theatrical enthusiasm, and lunged toward Qiqiong.
Holy shit!
Don't come over here!
Qiqiong panicked and tried to retreat, only to realize Aha's target wasn't exactly him.
Or rather—not entirely him.
It was the System interface visible only within Qiqiong's field of vision.
The moment Aha wrapped his arms around the System screen, the latter initially seemed shy.
Then it realized something was wrong.
"W-Wait, Fool, what are you doing?"
"Nice figure. Quite firm, too."
"Still shy at your age?"
The masks pressed against the screen like fingers tracing a cheek.
Because of the bond between his soul and the System, Qiqiong got the bizarre phantom sensation that his nonexistent third leg had just been touched by a hooligan.
And there was absolutely nothing he could do to intervene.
"Y-You—what are you trying to do?!"
The System gave up on its bombastic voice filter entirely. It sounded like a frightened victim in a sketch comedy, panicking hard.
It had only wanted to put on a good show in front of its host so it would be respected more in the future.
How had that turned into this?
"Damn you, Fool! I'll fight you to the death!"
Seemingly pushed past the limit by Qiqiong's devastated stare, the System's outer glow fell away, revealing the unknowable source code within.
The code erupted like stardust, completely illuminating Qiqiong's soul-space.
The light was so intense that Qiqiong had to shield his eyes.
To his astonishment, even Aha couldn't resist that transparent, unknowable torrent. It was driven out by sheer overwhelming force.
Wait.
Was this thing actually the real deal?
Qiqiong's inner assessment of the System upgraded immediately from "fresh out of Ciweimao kindergarten" to "fresh out of Ciweimao elementary school."
Why Ciweimao?
Wasn't it obvious?
If this had been a system from that other site, then the moment Aha entered Qiqiong's soul-space, it would have been forcefully captured, turned into a white-haired red-eyed loli, and made to work for Qiqiong.
"So… um…"
Qiqiong cleared his throat, drawing the System's attention.
"System, are you okay?"
That one sentence was like pressing a release valve.
The System instantly collapsed into sobbing, like some wronged little wife.
"Waaah… Host, I'm broken…"
Qiqiong: "…"
Qiqiong: "…What?"
-------
My : pat*eon*com/RuneA
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