Chapter Text
The afterlife is a sea of stars.
Countless of them streak in threads of light, guiding your voyage in the darkness. You’ve flown for a long time. A really, really long time. Long enough for your body to forget any sensations in your extremities. You think you are nothing more than a pair of eyes and a brain, a single flash speed-light through antimatter.
The monitor in your cockpit blared red with warning notifications–always has been. Strategic Assault Mech Firefly Type-V is precisely built for that–ferocious, methodical attack, not whatever this is you insisted on doing. But you can’t just suddenly stop. You can’t move your limbs anymore, even if you want to.
Sure, your geographic information system has long since failed since you left the Glamoth star system. And the Entropy Loss Syndrome is definitely eating your being, chip by chip, atom by atom. You can feel them crawling into your spine.
It will get your eyes, too, you think with certainty. And then you will be one with the darkness, along with the stars you’ve greeted all this time.
This is the final, and the only thing you could do for your family and teammates; a funeral far away from the buzzing of the swarm. You’ve brought their wishes, their tears, and their hopes to take to the stars. Away from the fiery hell you’ve wrecked in the name of the Mother.
Death does not scare you. Because you’ve died, just now, with dry throat and the bitter taste of plastic in your nose and throat, with cries and mechanical beeps. It’s a nice death, all things considered. You’ve been stuck in darkness for too long that dying doesn’t feel strange. Even this dream of flying through space in a FireflyMech Suit from Honkai: Star Rail doesn’t feel strange.
No, you smiled, this is nice. The stars winked and blinked around you, passing and curling in a rainbow of lightshow.
You will go quietly, into the night.
That was the plan, at least, until suddenly a bright flash illuminate your figure from the sideway. Sleek black machine, speeding on silver rail previously unseen. The same silver rail that you carelessly flew over.
You imagined the sound of a horn in your head, because the Astral Express doesn’t sound like the train in your hometown. No, it sounded like a bang and crushed metal. Or maybe it’s the sound of your Firefly grinding on the train’s metal lamp.
WARNING! WARNING!
Red filled your blurring vision. The impact did little damage to you, but you can still feel your entire body rattle, stiff, and aching. You could feel the damages on your suit down to the wirings, as if they are your own body. It’s grating more than it’s painful, a phantom sensation of pinprick pains atop of your skin.
Your thrusters have stopped, fluttering out.
There’s a sound of mechanical door opening and some yelling, but you could hardly focus more. Suddenly, you could feel your own heart beating too loudly, your own lungs caving in on themselves. You freak out, and ignore someone trying to reach for your floating form in space.
Dreams aren’t supposed to feel painful, you know?
“Oh my Aeons!” A shrill voice echoed, “The Express really did hit someone! Is he dead?! Are we going to be charged for dangerous driving?! Wait… is there a rule like that?”
“There isn’t,” a much calmer, boyish voice followed, “At least not that I know of…”
Your eyelids flutter. You can move your eyeballs around. But to open them is still far too heavy.
“Calm down, you two,” a soft female voice said, “This sort of thing never happened before. The silver rail is unique to the Express, and even when there’s a whole fleet of them, there are no crashes ever recorded. This is surprising for me, too…,”
You maintained your breathing, feeling your breathing heart, then expanding your lungs and ribcage. In and out, slowly.
“That’s because Akivili THEMSELF used to maintain each one of the Expresses' routes!” a young, cute voice echoed, “THEY used to redirect and add rails as THEY please, so no Express trains ever crash each other and everyone could travel freely as they please. We do have occasional crashes from interstellar objects, though. Like this one! That young man was flying as fast as the Express!”
Then come awareness to your numb, aching hands and fingers. Still inside Firefly’s cockpit, you opened your eyes. Through the lights of your monitor, there’s a warm yellow lamp hanging above.
“A Glamoth Iron Cavalry soldier…,” this time the speaker is an older man, “... this is the first time I’ve seen one from up close. The armor and plate structures are very…,”
Four people stood over you, all of whom you can recognize and are familiar with. Dan Heng was looking down with a furrow on his face. Welt Yang bent down while fixing his glasses, a contemplative and appreciative glint in his eyes as he looked at your suit up and down. Himeko stood beside Welt, a knuckle under her chin, looking at you with a tilted head.
March 7th, beside Dan Heng, and she waved her hand enthusiastically in front of your helmet, “Helloo? Is anyone theree?” Then she turned to someone across her with a groan, “What if he doesn’t wake up? Should we pull off his helmet?”
You are currently, probably actually for real real, got isekai’d to Honkai: Star Rail. You put this realization to think over later, because the crew is looking at each other to vote on how to best dismantle your Firefly Suit.
“No need for that!” Pom-pom, who apparently stood very closely beside your face that you didn’t see him, spoke, “He’s awake now!”
With that cue, you deactivated your Mech Suit. You closed your eyes, avoiding the flare of your suit tucking itself in the palm of your hand.
Someone shrieked in surprise.
When you opened your eyes, it was to the wide smile of March 7th in front of your face, and an equally loud exclamation, “You’re right Mister Yang! There’s really someone inside!”
“March,” Dan Heng warned, and the girl pulled back. When he looked at you, his frown deepened, and he offered his hand to you, “A-are you okay?”
Your hesitation evaporated in a blink. You accepted the offered hand, and the Vidyadhara helped you stand up. You swayed and stumbled on your feet then, unused to standing after years of flying, and Welt Yang put a steadying hand around your back with a gentle, “Careful. Why don’t we all sit down?”
Embarrassment burned your body awake by how everyone seemed to manhandle you and led you to one of the Express’s sofas. You sit yourself beside March 7th, and Dan Heng sits across you. Himeko and Welt stood, with Pom-pom between them.
The little rabbit icon spoke, “Even though you hit the Astral Express, there’s no significant damage inflicted on the train. And the trailblaze is open for everyone, so, welcome to the Astral Express, temporary passenger!”
Even while sitting, you still need to look down when Pom-pom spoke. He’s very cute. Your finger twitched to pat him, but unfortunately, you can still barely lift it. Not yet.
“Th–” There’s no voice but a pathetic rasp out of your throat, so you try again with a dipped head out of shame, “–Thank you.” It still came out as a heavy, almost faint whisper.
“Sooo,” you turned to March 7th, “We are the Nameless, if that’s not obvious already. I’m March 7th, this is Dan Heng,” she gestured to the black-haired boy who nodded, “Mister Welt Yang, our Navigator Miss Himeko, and our Conductor Pom-pom! What’s your name?”
Name. Your name? Of course, you know your name. Your name… His name is…
“Glamoth Iron Cavalry's Strategic Assault Mech Firefly Type-V, Serial Number AR-4464.”
The ensuing silence, more than your own confusion of not remembering his name, who breathed his last in the hospital’s intensive care unit, clicked your jaw closed in mortification. Way to go to make things awkward, you. Good job.
March 7th groaned, “That’s too long… Sorry, I’m not calling you that. How about Mister Firefly?”
Her companions gave her various looks; from Welt Yang’s and Himeko’s fond amusement to Pom-pom’s unimpressed look and Dan Heng’s sigh. She bore them all with a sheepish grin that melted all tension, despite her ability being Six Phased Ice.
“... No,” You replied, slow and raspy still. Someone already used that name. You are not going to take that name for yourself.
The pink-haired girl put a hand under her chin, “Then how about Mister Iron? Or Mister Cavalry? No, no, Mister Iron doesn’t fit your vibe, get me? No offense. You fit Mister Cavalry to a T!”
You don’t know how you look in this body, but you have some recollections. With the combat suit on your lanky, tall body, you reckon you don’t look anything close to anything Iron like Iron Man. You curled a smile at her and cheekily replied, “I think I get the vibe. No offense taken.”
Her smile brightens to that of a sparkling ice in summer.
Before she could pounce on you, however, Welt Yang cleared his throat, “Cavalry, then. Are you … okay? Do you need any medical assistance?”
You could feel nothing but a faint tingle on your fingers, and your entire body is aching. Your joints felt like lead. It’s the same as that hospital bed. But your nose smells fresh flowers and coffee instead of antiseptic, and your heart is beating steadily, lighter enough that you dared to smile in genuine happiness for what felt like years.
“I’m fine. Only a little ache. Sorry for crashing into your train.” Your throat hurts, and though your voice is steady, it is still only a little louder than a whisper. “Thank you again for letting me stay in the Express.”
“You’re welcome!” March 7th replied, “That’s what Nameless does after all.”
Welt Yang nodded at you, “Then, why don’t we let our guest rest for today? We can talk to him again in the evening.”
“Right,” Himeko smiled, “We can gather again in a few hours since we have to decide our next destination.”
“Passenger March is too lively at times,” The Conductor shook his tiny head so his little rabbit ears swayed left and right, and you couldn’t help but stare at them, “She should notice that Temporary Passenger Cavalry looks exhausted.”
You blinked, confused. Does he?
“There’s an empty room right beside March’s room. Dan Heng and March could escort you there. We’ll see you in a few hours, Cavalry,” Himeko nodded.
The trip to your temporary room is embarrassing, to say the least. Your legs shake due to exertion of not standing for- ever, really. Despite that, you stubbornly walked, still. You’ve been wanting to walk for a long time. This will not stop you.
March and Dan Heng are both quiet, and they have their hands each hovering on your side to steady your steps. There’s a joke about age here, at the tip of your tongue, but seeing their expressions, you kept quiet. You swallow your mortification and embarrassment until you lie down on a bed and wave the two youngest Nameless good night.
You lost consciousness as soon as your head hit the pillow.
“Are … are we sure he’s really okay?” March asked hesitantly, shifting on her toes–her nervous tick.
“I don’t know…,” Dan Heng sighed, “Let's get back to Parlor Car first.”
The Glamoth’s Soldier’s hand trembled from the moment he woke up. He stood up and sat down as if he didn’t feel his body, as if his body was only hanging from his head. It’s disturbing to see. The most damning thing was that he doesn’t seem to be aware that he’s sitting at a weird angle, either. When he walked, he dragged his feet more than stepping on them. As if he couldn’t move them properly, or he forgot how to walk. Though Cavalry’s steps became surer and more solid the more he walked, it came at a cost of great effort to the point of sweating, and a deep, pained frown on his face.
His already pale face and coloring became ashen in a matter of minutes.
There aren’t many known records of Glamoth’s Iron Cavalry’s Entropy Loss Syndrome, due to how few survivors are. The main information available are: one, it is unique to Glamoth’s Soldiers, and that it could only be monitored and controlled through the Firmament Front itself. Now that the Empire has fallen in the last Swarm Disaster, could it be the Entropy Loss Syndrome?
“... we might need to contact the Stellaron Hunters, if it comes to that,” Dan Heng heard Mister Yang speak, as they walked closer.
Miss Himeko stayed silent, and March 7th’s voice spoke, “Stellaron Hunters? Why suddenly?”
“March, Dan Heng,” Miss Himeko greeted, “How’s our guest settling?”
“He immediately passed out,” Dan Heng answered for her, considering March’s worried nod.
Silence echoed once more. Dan Heng hadn’t been around his companions for long, but he knew they were all thinking in the same vein: how did a Glamoth Iron Cavalry Soldier survive all this time, for more than several Amber Eras, just flying through the cosmos? Not only that, he had enough speed to fly at a speed that rivaled the Astral Express enough to crash into it.
And how could they help, when he’s obviously sick?
“We will wait until tonight,” Miss Himeko eventually spoke decisively, “If our Temporary Guest hasn’t woken up by then, I will contact the Stellaron Hunters to help.”
“The Stellaron Hunters…” Dan Heng trailed off in confusion. Wait. Could it be…?
March questioned, “But why? We aren’t going to become criminals, are we?”
“Of course not,” Mister Yang said, “But The Stellaron Hunters might be the only ones who could help Cavalry right now. One of their members …, could be another Glamoth's Iron Cavalry.”
“SAM,” Dan Heng said, remembering bounty posters issued by the IPC–the armored man has an eerily similar design to Cavalry’s armor mech suit. If Dan Heng remembered further, the only differences between the two might be the red plates and metals on Cavalry's armor.
“Exactly. Come to think of it, rather than an alias, SAM may be actually an abbreviation of Strategic Assault Mech ..., Anyway,” Mister Yang nodded, “There’s not much known about Glamoth’s Iron Cavalry, and the Destiny’s Slave could provide us with important information that could help. That, or Madam Herta.”
“It is not Madam Herta’s specialization, either, so I wasn’t sure. The Genius’s interests are fickle, after all,” Miss Himeko frowned.
March looked as hesitant as Dan Heng himself felt in this. “I guess…,”
“There’s not much choice…,” Dan Heng murmured.
“Well then, take a breather, all of you. That’s a lot of excitement for today. Freshen up, and we’ll meet in a few hours, okay?”
Dan Heng arranged the archives to take his mind off it, but eventually succumbed to his curiosities. He searched Entropy Loss Syndrome and could feel how his dread rose with each reading material. One researcher made a systematic review based on Glamoth’s records and compared it to Self-Annihilator’s or Nihility’s Gaze, the loss of self, slowly and gradually, until nothing remains.
It was a relief to get a notification from the group chat about the meeting.
THE ASTRAL EXPRESS FAMILY
Dan Heng
I will wake and fetch him.
Himeko
Thank you, Dan Heng. We will be waiting.
His relief was steadily declining the longer his calls went unanswered by their guest. Dan Heng decided to enter the room, growing more concerned the more time the newly dubbed Cavalry lay unmoving despite his voice calling him, and his shaken body still lay prone. Dan Heng could only feel alarm, with only feeling the faintest traces of a pulse and breath on the white-haired man’s body.