Chapter Text
Void Archives is bored. Though admittedly, he’s enjoying being back on board the Astral Express; so much has changed since he left. The newer Nameless are interesting people, and despite himself he’s been enjoying getting to know them. Not that he’d ever say so. Even Himeko seems to be warming up to his presence ever so slowly since he’s returned. At first, Void Archives had only expected to stay for a few days, but now he’s got no real intention of disappearing again.
Still, going from complete freedom to do whatever he pleased whenever he pleased to traveling with other people has been…an adjustment. The Express is currently parked for resupply before they set out for their next destination, and though the break is needed, there’s a severe lack of entertainment. Several of the crew have disembarked, leaving everything relatively empty and quiet.
Meandering between the unnaturally silent train cars, Void Archives is infinitely surprised to find someone looking even more listless than he is. Welt stares out one of the large windows in the main car, arms crossed. He sighs, unaware he’s being observed, and lets his posture drop tiredly.
Void Archives saunters over like he’s stalking prey, a troublesome grin on his face.
“Bored, Herrscher?”
“Ah, Archives. I would’ve thought you’d go with the others for supplies.” Welt says, eyes not leaving the planet below even as Void Archives moves to stand next to him to admire the view.
“I’m not one for grocery shopping with other people.” Void Archives responds with a snobbish huff. “Besides, I’m pretty sure Himeko would’ve tried to take the opportunity to leave me behind.”
“Still not leaving?”
“I’m not tired of it just yet…what, trying to get rid of me already?”
Welt gives him a mildly irritated glance. “I didn’t say that.”
“Why didn’t you go with the others?” Void Archives asks, changing the subject.
Welt sighs again, gaze returning wistfully to the sights out the window. “There wasn’t a need. It’s best that someone stays on board.”
“Well, I’m here.”
“I doubt Pom-Pom would like the idea of you being on the Express alone.”
“It’s not like I’d steal it.” Void Archives jokes. He thinks it's funny, but it falls flat. There’s a moment of somewhat uncomfortable silence before he continues. “Seriously, what are you doing? You decide not to go and then stare out the window looking completely miserable? What’s with you?”
“Just thinking.” Welt tells him, shaking his head. “The other Nameless deserve the adventures they’re going on, but I guess I can’t help but think about how different things used to be. I never expected to be the one staying behind.”
That troublesome grin returns to Void Archives’ face.
“Missing your old life, Herrscher of Reason?”
“You mean my life back on Earth?” Welt asks pointedly, an edge creeping slightly into his voice.
“Not what I meant.” Void Archives fires back. “I meant that you seem…tame. Docile. Subdued. Compared to how you used to be, that is. I have to say, I’m surprised.”
Welt says nothing, the silence more of a response than any words would've been.
“You don’t have to be bored, you know.”
“I never said I was bored.” Welt responds far too quickly.
“Please. You don’t have to. It’s obvious.” Void Archives smirks. “You act like you’re past it, all that reckless throwing yourself into battle with no concern for your own life, not sure if you’d even survive. Getting to be powerful and full of it, and knowing that no one could challenge you and walk away unscathed. What was it you said Siegfried called you all those years ago? ‘An arrogant piece of work’? Personally, I don’t think he was wrong.”
“Archives–”
“You know what I think? I think you’ve been desperately trying to convince yourself you’re happier now. But you know–”
“Stop, Void.”
Welt glares daggers at him, provoked within seconds of wanting to crush Void Archives into the floor with gravity. Void Archives merely raises his hands in mock surrender, smug grin never leaving his face.
“You of all people do not get to question the choices I’ve made, Void Archives. You know damn well that my life looks different now because you ensured it.”
“Oh really? Because I don’t recall it being my idea to interfere with another universe. It’s not my fault we got trapped here. Maybe you should think about that. This was your choice, Herrscher. Not mine.”
Instantly, Welt’s expression changes, looking stunned. He sighs deeply, gaze dropping. The carpet must be fascinating the way he’s suddenly studying it.
“You’re right.” He says quietly after several moments of defeated silence. “I’m sorry.”
Void Archives barely catches himself from dropping his smirk. He’s smart enough to know that he’s pushed too far this time. Maybe a few days away from the Express would be a good idea. He turns to leave, stopping just before he reaches the door to look back over his shoulder. Welt is watching him now, expression uncharacteristically unreadable.
Maybe he should keep his mouth shut.
Oh well.
“All I’m saying is that if you want adventure, go find it. Being the responsible one doesn’t suit you in the slightest.”
--
The idea of Void Archives being right is irritating at best.
But is he?
The idea of being bored has crossed Welt’s mind before, but it’s usually dismissed quickly as simply an intrusive thought trying to make him miserable. Now, however, it's not as easy to dispel. Leave it to Void Archives to uproot everything in his mind.
Back on Earth, Welt had been a force to be reckoned with. As the Sovereign of Anti-Entropy and Herrscher of Reason, his powers had been nearly unmatched, and he used them freely. Life was dangerous out of necessity, and days off were often spent recovering from injuries or exhaustion. Tesla in particular had called him stupid innumerable times for his overly reckless behavior. Still, he’s always preferred to put himself in danger rather than someone else. It became a habit, an expectation, a way of life. Protecting the world itself became primary, usually at the expense of protecting himself.
There’s no denying that Void Archives was right about Welt changing since traveling with the Express. He’s more grounded and steady, far less likely to have a near-death experience on any given day. In a lot of ways, life has become easier. Welt’s previous way of living had looked very different than it does now as one of the Nameless. Both involve plenty of inherent risk, but life aboard the Express is far more laid back between missions, as opposed to constant decision-making, strategy, and endless responsibilities. The burden of protecting all of humanity has shifted to protecting the rest of the crew and the friends they make along the way.
It's not that he doesn’t enjoy this life-he does, more than he ever would’ve imagined-but the number of adventures he gets to have is dwindling. As the younger Nameless find their footing and improve their skills, there’s less need for Welt and Himeko to visit other worlds with them. They can handle themselves just fine. But staying on the train and letting everyone else have all the fun is not what Welt signed up for. He’s not cut out for taking the backseat while others throw themselves into peril. It makes him restless, both out of concern and, if he’s honest, jealousy. There’s no resentment there, but he’s been wishing things were different for a while now.
Welt’s gaze drifts back out the window and returns to the planet below, wistfully imagining what types of new experiences and things to learn would’ve awaited him had he gotten to visit. He lets out another deep sigh, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. Finally, he admits it to himself: he really is bored.
Void Archives was right.
Damn.
The rest of the afternoon, Welt feels…off. He’s annoyed at Void Archives for reading him like a large print book, restless waiting for everyone to return from their supply run, and well…bored.
There’s a hint of guilt there too, like he’s not being content and thankful for the life he has. Genuinely, Welt is happy here aboard the Express. Of course, he still misses Earth and everyone he left behind, sometimes so much it hurts. But this universe has become just as much his home now. So why does he feel like he can’t sit still? Or has he just been ignoring it for too long? It makes him feel like something is missing. He’s wired, and he wants to feel alive.
He wants to do something stupid.
--
Soon, the crew of the Astral Express chooses their next destination. Tetria, known for its massive cities and incredibly advanced technology, was hiding a dark secret: a Stellaron. Though hidden and dormant for ages, lately its destructive influence had begun to affect the planet’s hybrid lifeforms. Immense creatures that appeared half biological and half mechanical were common on Tetria, used for almost all parts of everyday life. Typically, the programming in their artificial brains kept them docile, but they’d begun to malfunction due to the Stellaron’s interference.
After a few days of gathering information, they finally locate their target. A creature resembling a massive flying ray had absorbed the Stellaron and been driven insane by it, turning its wrath against the inhabitants of one of Tetria’s largest cities. It wails as it launches its frenzied assault, destroying nearby skyscrapers and leveling entire blocks into nothing but rubble.
The battle is far from easy. The Nameless put forth their most valiant effort, but the Stellaron Ray is only growing in strength, leaving them with no opportunity to gain an advantage.
They’re overwhelmed, and there’s a good chance that if the battle continues this way, the outcome won’t be in their favor. This is far from the first time that Welt has fought a losing battle, and if he can turn the tides-even at his own expense-he won’t hesitate. As it is now, the Stellaron Ray’s attacks are too rapid, too immense, not allowing anyone a worthwhile moment to return their own counterattack. Being on the defensive like this will exhaust them quickly, which the Ray is clearly counting on. With its inherent strength alone, it would be unlikely to be able to defeat the crew of the Astral Express. But the sheer number and speed at which its able to launch its attacks makes it a near-undefeatable foe.
Unless.
An opening is all they need.
Just a few seconds’ worth of a distraction. And Welt knows just how to get it. He knows its reckless and probably idiotic and it likely won’t end well. But between their current predicament and the lingering frustration of his conversation with Void Archives, Welt just doesn’t care. If he’s truly so bored, he might as well pull a stunt like he would’ve done back on Earth.
‘If this doesn’t go well, forgive me.’
Using his powers of gravity manipulation, Welt manages to get closer than the rest of the crew, launching a fabricated missile straight into the Stellaron Ray’s fragile eye. It shrieks, both in anger and pain, momentarily focusing all its attention on Welt. The adrenaline rush feels strangely addictive.
As expected, he has no time to react before its next strike is launched directly at him.
The distraction creates just enough of an opening. With one final push, one last glorious barrage of attacks from the rest of the Express crew, the Ray ultimately falls. It lets out one final groan, a deep, haunting sound that echoes off the surrounding buildings before falling out of the sky and collapsing into a crumpled heap.
Welt lets out a shuddering sigh of relief, but makes no effort to move otherwise. He already knows he wouldn’t be able to.
A few harsh coughs grate like sandpaper, leaving behind a metallic taste that he blatantly tries to ignore. There’s blood, probably too much, staining his shirt from a cavernous gash across his right side. He tries to reach across with his opposite hand to apply pressure to the wound, but he lacks the strength to do much good, and his arm feels wrong and uncooperative. Not to mention the wreckage that is his right leg, which Welt doesn’t even dare to take much of a look at.
The deserted alleyway where he’s ended up is just far enough away that the others might have a bit of trouble finding him. He could call out for them, but it hurts too much to even move, much less breathe deeply enough to try to yell.
A broken laugh. This feels like what Welt remembers.
He can faintly hear March’s triumphant shout of “We did it!” as she celebrates their victory with the rest of the crew. They deserve this success. He’s proud of them, as always. And with any luck, they’ll find him before it’s too late. But even if they don’t, Welt has no regrets. The people he loves are safe to continue their journey another day, another planet will be able to resume its normal existence, and he got to have one last adventure that made him feel alive.
Welt smiles faintly, holding on to the last fading tendrils of consciousness.
“Good job, Trailblazers.”