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The woman had purple hair, he remembered.
It wasn’t violet, though. It was a shade dyed with red, something like the color of the liquid he saw her drank when they first met.
Her eyes were weirdly glazed over, a shade of hazy pink; she could look at him perfectly fine, but it was as if her own being was somewhere else.
The black coat she was wearing outshone her white top and dark tight pants; it must have been something expensive, given its unique spider pattern.
She snapped her finger in front of him, teasing words on her lips.
“Have you been listening?” She said, then took another sip from her glass.
He shook his head, looking away. The large window to the side of the hallway was showing a planet.
There were black clouds and flashing lights all over the red body, then a beam of green light shot out, blinding him. He raised his arm up to cover his eyes.
The woman, he noticed after the light had faded, was staring at the window unblinkingly. Something resembling resignation was on her face, yet her eyes crinkled into a smile.
“He was correct, yet again.”
———
The girl had long gray hair, something similar to his own.
The woman got her a fancy-looking green dress with a brown cape and an orange tie. It was strangely innocent seeming, yet perhaps it fitted her.
He still remembered that night, when he caught her in armor, standing on the roof of their temporary base; a small yet fancy ship, something that was privately owned before they hijacked it.
The metal beast stared at his silent form for a good minute before erupting in fire. The girl quickly hid the special transformation mechanism somewhere before greeting him.
“G-Good evening!” Her pink eyes danced in nervousness, “Sorry if I disturb your sleep, I just couldn’t sleep so…”
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“Huh!? What does it mean by that!?” March shouted.
“Ah, that’s a relief…!”
The girl glanced back towards that sky, clasping her hands together as she sat, crossed-legged.
“The starry sky is so fascinating, don’t you think?” She raised her hand up, motioning the act of plucking them from the sky. Her mouth opened, yet no more words came.
Her eyes had that haunting look that he had grown to be familiar with from the woman. But there were some differences. After all, the girl’s wound was still fresh.
“I want to reach them all. I want to feel them. To feel that I should be alive right now.” Tears softly ran, as if the burden of the soul was too heavy for her to bear.
The girl clearly wanted to say more, but grief was like a heavy chain that tugged, and she collapsed into a pit of weeping wreck.
Through the messy misery, he could hear the words, “I just wanted to live.”
———
He caught the man doing his own bandages in the quiet of his room.
Red eyes silently pierced through him like a needle, and long dark hair flowed down the edge of the bed, hiding his shirtless back. The room was bare bones as can be, save for the many swords carefully wrapped and put away.
The swords were of their many adversaries. The blood that was on them was always carefully cleaned off, and the fabric they were wrapped in was soaked in something the man specifically made.
It preserved the blades, but the smell reminded him of death.
“…What is it?” A tired, raspy voice, “Do you not know how to knock?”
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“Seems like he cannot recall what he said…” Sunday chimed in.
The man let out a scoff, but ignored him as he walked in and closed the door.
“…Just leave the food there.” The scars littered his body was numerous, each in a different stage of healing. A deep scratch on his shoulder was still sanguine and fresh.
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“I wonder when is this in the timeline? The pervious memories were when you first joined the Stellaron Hunters. Yet this one is not-”
“The shoulder wound was done by me.” Dan Heng interrupted Welt, “On our last bout before I joined all of you.”
“No.”
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“No!”
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The man had a deep frown on his face, and the shoulder wound tore open wider. He let out a low growl of exhaustion.
“So much for this wretched ‘gift’…”
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Blood-red eyes glanced at him, then looked down that the medical box he poached from the ship’s medical bay.
“Fine. Only because you’ll get yourself killed without supervision.”
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“That smell…” The man whispered as he sat down with the food, grabbing the med kit and putting it beside him, “Was it you who made that?”
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“…Don’t think I owe you anything beyond mere, fleeting appreciation.”
———
“Oh? You wanna game?”
A persistent tune rang in his ears. 8-bit animations of popular characters looped around on the walls and ceiling.
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“Aw man… Well, we have some time until then.”
She hopped off the fancy-looking gaming chair, which somehow was floating off the air. Her hair was also a shade of gray, but it was in a ponytail and it coiled up at the end like a drill.
She threw him a controller as she landed onto her bed, filled with plushies of all sizes.
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She snickered at him, as if his question was strange, “I have my ways… ANYWAY, C’MON I NEED SOME HELP TO BEAT THIS BOSS!”
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“MULTIPLAYER’S NOT CHEATING!!!” She shouted, pouting like a child. He felt a desire to pat her head.
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“I’m so gonna beat you in PVP… But we have to go through the campaign first.”
He glanced at the holographic screen, at the room before the boss. He wasn’t really sure what game she was playing, but it did not really matter.
He was never that good at these games, anyway. And knowing her, she wouldn’t be bothered with preserving the game’s integrity by not cheating.
He smiled. She was always in need of a friend.
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“It seems that you were greatly fond of this little girl…” Black Swan commented.
“And they were nice to you, too. I can’t imagine her causing so much chaos…” Misha’s voice was soft.
“You can take that, and that, here’re some potions, leave the sword to me… You can just spam skill to shoot it from a distance then heal me when it does that big attack…”
———
He knocked on the door.
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“Come in.”
It was hard to describe what he was looking at. Walls were covered with photos and pictures frames, red strings connecting them all. The floor was covered with papers, with words and drawings all over them.
He glanced down. A short, neatly written poem sat at his foot. A scribbled up mess to the side of it.
There was a carpeted area at the back, with pillows and blankets and all the toys a feline could want. Pile of books was stacked the corners.
The boy who told the story of end times sat on the floor in the middle of the room, bending down to write something while using a pillow as leverage.
“Ah!” Green cat eyes glanced at, an innocent smile on his lips, “Is it time?”
The black cat's ears on top of his head twitched with excitement. He fixed his bowtie, a gentlemanly outfit he was wearing, and patted down his shorts.
“Hello, Astral Express. My name is Elio, though you probably know that already.”
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A crowd of gasps can be heard.
“My scripts can be a bit here or there at times, but every storylines I have seen have featured you in the main act.” Elio smiled, a fang poking out, “And if things are going the way I saw it, the curtain is about to rise for the next chapter.”
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“Yes, yes, one day you’ll see it, please sit down now. I hate to use you as a time capsule like this, indeed I do. But what must be done must be done.”
Elio reached out and did something. Cupping his cheeks? He felt some motion and-
“Just as the future mimics the past, there will be a time when we meet again. So don’t cry, for this is not our last meeting.”
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“Was that… sorrow on his face?” Himeko questioned.
A little chuckle, then Elio backed off, wondering to the pile of books to the left of him.
It was almost comical how someone barely five foot four was climbing the piles of books like it was a cat tower. Things fell out and collapsed onto the ground, but Elio didn’t care one bit when he grabbed the tallest book in the pile.
“Anyway, you might be wondering, dear guests, why am I contacting you? Well, your journey ahead will certainly be interesting, yes?” He shouted from the corner.
“The Eternal Land, one that can only be viewed through the mirrors of the Garden of Recollection…”
Elio casually strolled back to him with that book, so thick in pages that it looked like a dictionary.
“Usually, I would leave work to my fellow Hunters. I have no interest in… physically work, as you might expect.”
“But this is something uniquely personal to me. They cannot know about this, and I know that you will not spoil my secret.”
“…For the story of this land has plagued me since dawn, where nightmares of golden blood and memories of everlasting despair has left me with many… shall we say, conundrums.”
Elio tilted his head, green eyes shining.
“So I ask that we do a trade. I’ll provide you with a critical hint as to how you can unwind the threads of this tragedy, and in return, I simply ask that you do what you always do best.”
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Elio flipped open the book, to the page at the end.
“Oh, city bathed in dawn and showered in gold. You are to suffer a thousand deaths and a thousand lives, a heroic tragedy destined to be for this world was forsaken so.”
“The nameless Deliverer who bears the world shall trade off what’s most valuable to him at that moment of miracles.”
“The children of gold must remind him then of the true purpose of their lives; to continue the loom of Fate, protect the bearings of Foundation, wield their blood for Creation and maintain reason in the face of Calamity.”
“And you, great guests from afar, you are to toil the bells of Passage, open the eye of the Sky, bring Reason to the madness of Strife, and let Time passes away in Death’s embrace.”
“…So.” Elio promptly closed the book with a smile and a mischievous look in his eyes, “Do with that what you will.”