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Stelle walked along the road of Duomension City, eyes scanning every nook and cranny for any chests she might have missed the first time here. With the Phantasmoon Games giving her some downtime, now was the best time to explore and gather resources—
That is, until a jet-black mechatron got in her way.
“Miss Stelle,” the mechatron spoke—Feiron, she recognized, a worker from Pearluxe Corp. “What a coincidence. I was just looking for you.”
What a blatant lie! He must have been standing in this exact spot, counting the seconds until Stelle wandered into his dialogue hitbox!
But she could already feel it—the faint, phantom weight of a blue exclamation mark hanging over the mechatron's head, the telltale sign of an incoming Adventure Mission. She glanced at the alleyway behind her, at the promise of more hidden chests, and decided the mechatron probably won her the more interesting afternoon compared to scrounging around for more chests.
“What’s up?” Stelle asked.
“Lady Pearl requires your assistance,” Feiron continued. “Pearluxe Corp is currently producing a tokusatsu show themed around the Stellaron Hunters, and she would like to hire you as a consultant.”
Well, that immediately piqued Stelle’s interest.
“...A Stellaron Hunter-themed tokusatsu?”
“Indeed,” Feiron confirmed. “After what happened with the Daybreak Squadron, production of newer episodes became impossible, and… the showrunners simply decided to cancel it altogether to pay respect to both the cast and the victims. However, this leaves the Sunday morning slot empty…”
“Ah, and the kids have got nothing to watch.”
“Precisely,” Feiron nodded. “With no weekly superhero shows that run for a year long, how are the kids supposed to learn about morals?!”
“...And how is Pearluxe supposed to sell new toys without a brand new show that goes along with it, I’m guessing.”
“Well, Lady Pearl was quite worried about that too, yes,” the mechatron conceded. “If you’re free right now, Miss Stelle, I could take you to the studio. They happen to be filming right now as we speak.”
Stelle sighed. Of course this was about the money, but then again, she would be quite sad too if the show she looked forward to every week suddenly got discontinued with nothing to replace it… Even if the new show was nothing like the old one, it would at least fill that void, and who knows, maybe she would warm up to it.
“Fine, I guess I’m free. Take me there.”
Pearluxe’s indoor studio was louder and more crowded than the last time Stelle had visited. The air smelled like paint as people repositioned props back and forth and another group argued about explosives in another corner. Crew members, arms full of cables and equipment, wove past each other like marching ants.
A man sitting on a seat clearly labeled “DIRECTOR” perked up the moment his eyes met Stelle’s, and he quickly approached her.
“You must be Stelle! It’s an honor to have you as our consultant,” the man said. “Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Kamihori, and I am the director for Pearluxe’s all-new project: Hunter Sentai Stellaronrangers!”
Stelle narrowed her eyes. “Couldn’t you guys have picked a more original title?”
“Well, it’s a work in progress! We might keep the working title, we might not,” the director clarified. “The pitch is simple: we combine the popularity of the Stellaron Hunters with the charm of transforming heroes, to create an entertaining, thrilling story that can be enjoyed by all demographics! Kids will rush out to buy the toys, and adults can follow the ever-evolving storyline every week.”
“...Wouldn’t this put you guys as direct competitors with The Fluffy?”
“Oho, of course we’ve accounted for that, too. With The Fluffy being more popular than ever, buzz around the Astral Express is also at an all-time high, so we thought we could ride that wave by making a story centered around the Express’s nemesis, the Stellaron Hunters.”
Right… Stelle could feel it, that creeping awkwardness settling inside her. She already felt weird being in Star Rail Fest, and she was sure the same feeling would resurface even when the subject was about the family she no longer had many memories about.
Just as she was sitting with that thought, a group of four approached them from across the set. Stelle’s eyes went wide as her gaze landed on them—no way, it was the Stellaron Hunters themselves?! Kafka, Blade, Silver Wolf, and… a girl she didn’t recognize.
Wait, no… The more she stared, the more she noticed something was off. Sure, these were the Stellaron Hunters, but they didn’t look quite the way Stelle remembered…
“Oh, good timing!” Kamihori clapped his hands. “Let me introduce you to our cast…”
Stelle exhaled quietly. Right, they were actors. Obviously.
“My name is Franz, and I play the role of Kafka. Nice to meet you,” the lady dressed as Kafka bowed slightly, like a performer about to leave the stage. Her outfit was spot on, and the makeup team had clearly done meticulous work. She could have fooled Stelle from a distance.
“...I am Dull, and I will be playing as Blade,” the tall, broad-shouldered man beside her said next.
…A Dull Blade, huh… where has Stelle heard that before…
“Silvie, and I play Silver Wolf,” the shortest one out of the bunch introduced herself—and almost certainly the youngest, half the age of the previous two at least. “But you probably could tell that already.”
Ah, she must be a young actor. Adult fans of these kinds of shows tend to be quite harsh on an inexperienced actor’s acting ability… Hopefully she knew what she was getting into.
“Nice to meet you all,” Stelle nodded, turning her attention to the last person who hasn’t introduced herself yet.
She was a girl around Stelle’s age and height, with long blonde hair that reached the middle of back. A black headband was perched atop her head, and she wore a close-fitted bodysuit that reminded her of what pilots would wear in those mecha anime Mr. Yang liked to watch.
…Wait a minute, considering the previous three’s roles, is this girl supposed to be—
“Um… My name is Hotaru…” the girl finally spoke up, fidgeting with her hands, eyes unable to meet Stelle—she was clearly nervous. “And I play… Stellaron Hunter Sam.”
What?! How much did the IPC know about Firefly’s true identity?
Stelle’s eyes must have been comically wide when they met the director’s, because the man simply broke out into a laugh.
“Surprised, aren’t you?” Kamihori asked with a wide smile, clearly proud of something Stelle wasn’t aware of. “For this adaptation, we have decided… to turn Stellaron Hunter Sam into a girl!”
Huh.
What?
“A never-before-seen innovation! Who would have thought that the one beneath that fiery, iron armor would be a pretty, young lady? The gap moe from the initial reveal alone will drive this show to trending for weeks—no, months!”
It took a while for Stelle to reel back and fully process what she just heard. Oh, okay—so they actually didn’t know, they just decided to go out on a limb and just happened to land on the most correct answer entirely by accident.
“I… see,” Stelle replied, unable to muster words. At least Firefly’s identity was still safe, she guessed. “It’s certainly, um, an interesting direction. I can see the potential. Truly.”
“We heard you’ve had run-ins with the real Stellaron Hunters multiple times,” Franz spoke with a smile, clearly the most sociable of the group. “If possible, we’d love your feedback on how to improve our performances.”
Dull nodded, Silvie didn’t seem to really care, and Hotaru was still too nervous to look at her.
Stelle scratched her head awkwardly. This sure was a lot of expectations on her, and she didn’t even know how she should approach this conundrum in the first place.
“Well… I guess I could try.”
“Very good!” Kamihori clapped his hands once again. “We’re currently just filming a short teaser video. The actual pilot will take a while, and the script still has a lot of room for revision, so please don’t hold back when speaking with the actors. Trust me, I don’t either!”
Kamihori laughed again, and Stelle immediately recognized that kind of laughter. Ah, this must be one of those demonic directors who push their actors to their breaking point so they can get a convincing, “real” take on camera.
“Suit actors are ready!” someone shouted from the background—an assistant producer, Stelle assumed.
“Oh, good timing. We’re about to film a suited up scene. Why don’t you watch how we work?”
Stelle was surprised to see just how quickly the crew could work. Within minutes, the set around them had been transformed—the city replica was gone, now replaced by a wild, nondescript quarry, rough stone and exposed dirt. Not as vast as a real outdoor location, but enough for the camera to sell it.
The four actors stood in a circle, facing away from each other, transformation props in hand.
‘Kafka’ lifted hers, something based on a submachine gun. She loads a magazine with a spider-like motif into the weapon, and lifts it near her face. “Listen… to our transformation.”
Okay, what a weird transformation phrase. Was that a reference to something? For some reason, Stelle thought "Metamorphosis" would have fit her more.
‘Blade’ swung his sword into the air in front of him, forming an X—Stelle assumed they would add effects in post. “Marastrike.”
Seriously, we’re appropriating mara now?! What are these transformation calls?! Isn’t that kind of a sensitive issue?!
Next, it was ‘Silver Wolf’s turn. Hers was the most toyetic—a gauntlet mounted on her right wrist that she slid a cartridge-like item into. “Overdrive!”
Well, that one was just normal.
Last was ‘Firefly’—a surprisingly accurate, winged, metallic cocoon in her hand that she lifted to the sky. Gone was the shy, reserved face Stelle saw earlier. With a determined look and a tone in her voice that could belong to a seasoned soldier, she said the word: “Henshin.”
…Okay, folks in Planarcadia are definitely familiar with the term, so it made sense, Stelle supposed.
“Cut! Okay, good!” Kamihori’s voice boomed from the sidelines, and the actors froze in place on command like statues. A swarm of crew members descended immediately, pressing strips of tape by their feet on the floor in precise intervals.
“What’s that for?” Stelle asked the director beside her.
“Oh, we’re going to have the face actors step away and bring in the suit actors after this,” Kamihori explained. “They need to stand exactly where the face actors stood, so these marks are how we position them for the next shot. CGI and special effects let us get away with a slight discrepancy, but the closer it is, the cleaner the cut looks.”
Stelle nodded. What an analog way of filmmaking, but if Mr. Yang was here, he would say that was the charm of tokusatsu…
Using suit actors was also a different approach from the Daybreak Squadron's methods, though it made practical sense. Easier to replace if something went wrong, and throwing inexperienced actors into physical stunt work was just asking for trouble.
Once the marks on the ground were properly placed, the four actors stepped away as a new group came in to replace them.
Kafka’s transformed suit definitely evoked her image—a sleek, but feminine design with a devil theme, little horns adorning her helmet. Blade’s was supposed to be a more organic transformation, Stelle supposed, with his design looking more like a scary kaijin monster with sharp edges jutting out all over than a transformed superhero. Silver Wolf’s was the most obvious, with an actual wolf-themed helmet and a cybernetic tail to complete the cyberpunk sci-fi aesthetic of her suit that felt almost on the nose.
Firefly—no, SAM’s suit was, as Stelle expected, the most faithful reproduction. She almost looked out of place to Stelle as a result.
Once they were done filming the close-ups from various angles, a group of masked grunts took the scene. One by one, they shot action scenes with each Hunter.
Kafka’s suit actor moved like she was dancing, stepping through the mooks with a spray of prop gunfire. Blade’s played the feral berserker, pouncing and (pretend to) tear through his enemies to shreds, and Silver Wolf mostly just stood still while enemies around her dropped on cue. Definitely some budget-wasting CG attacks the production team would add in post.
Then, the climax. SAM’s actor hit the trampoline and leaped to the air, and the studio held its breath for the half-second it took—landing a flying kick before skidding to one knee as real pyrotechnics erupted behind them, the heat and sound rolling through the set and forcing Stelle to cover her ears.
It was, theoretically, a hype as hell scene, visually and audibly speaking. Any tokusatsu fan like Mr. Yang would give it a thumbs up. The flying dive kick was a staple after all—his words—and thus, there should be nothing wrong with it…
But still, it bothered Stelle! Sure, it was really cool, but if they were gonna show off her girlfriend’s coolness, they might as well do it right!
“Wrong,” Stelle said, stepping forward. “That was all wrong!”
“Eh?” Kamihori replied, confused. “What was?”
“I know it’s tempting to do a flying kick, but SAM’s big attack is actually a punch, not a kick! I should know, I’ve tanked it countless times!” In Simulated Universe, at least, but the point stood..
“A kick looks better on camera, though…”
“Well, why did you even hire a consultant if you don’t want to be faithful?!”
Stelle sat in the corner of the studio, a cold bottle of SoulGlad—wow, they import this all the way out here?—in her hand as she watched the director huddle with the choreographers. Her (very understandable) crashout managed to convince the director to reshoot the scene, at least.
Safe for that, it was quiet until Stelle heard soft footsteps approaching.
“Excuse me…” Hotaru stood there, hands loosely clasped in front of her, still wearing her costume. “Um, can I sit next to you?”
“Oh? Yeah, sure.” Stelle glanced at the girl who was supposed to be dressed up as her girlfriend. She still didn’t know what kind of black magic this production team pulled to get this level of accuracy. Maybe one of the Stonehearts present at Penacony also gave advice…? No, she couldn’t see Aventurine doing that for some reason.
Hotaru sat down next to Stelle, hugging her knees to her chest, like she had something to say. Stelle wasn’t sure if she just missed Firefly (though she definitely did), but that expression on Hotaru’s face really reminded the Trailblazer of the Stellaron Hunter.
“What’s up?” Stelle asked.
“W-Well…” Hotaru fidgeted. “U-Um, there was something bothering me…”
…If anyone still bothered to ask her for advice after her little outburst, Stelle supposed she should at least hear her out.
Stelle nodded, giving the other girl the signal to continue. Hotaru’s eyes went wide in surprise, as if she didn’t expect that for a second, and then spoke.
“Um… I should introduce myself properly… My name is Hotaru, and… I’m not very experienced, but I managed to land the role of SAM…”
“Isn’t that a good thing? You should be more confident.”
“I-I’m very grateful for the opportunity,” Hotaru shook her head as if to dispel the notion. “It’s just, um… I don’t feel like I’m a very good fit… for the role.”
Stelle tilted her head, and Hotaru took that as permission to keep talking. The other girl meekly nodded, pondering her words carefully, before speaking again.
“It’s just… I’m not really sure if I can portray the character well,” she admitted. “I’ve done my research. SAM is… a former soldier of Glamoth, and basically a living weapon of mass destruction. Some rumors even say they blew up a planet once… And they turn every battlefield they set foot on into a sea of flames. I can only imagine that the person behind that armor… if there’s even any, must be a cold, merciless killer…”
Stelle hummed, instantly recognizing the irony in her next question. “What does your script say about that?”
“Not a lot,” Hotaru shook her head again. “There’s, um, not a lot to go on about SAM, so I’ve been given more… creative freedom with how I want to build my character. But I’m afraid… I’m not good enough of an actress to do that, to build someone from nothing. So, um…”
Hotaru turned, and for the first time since they’d met, her eyes found Stelle’s and stayed there.
“If you’ve got any material for me to work with, or any criticism for my performance… Please, I want to hear it. Don’t hold back.”
Stelle was silent for a second, taken aback by the girl’s sudden heartfelt sincerity.
“I think the fact that you’re thinking so hard about it shows how serious you are already about it, which is a good thing,,” Stelle said, glancing way to settle her thoughts. “Hm… What can I say, I think SAM is not as… rigid as you’re imagining her—them to be.”
“Could you elaborate…?”
“Yeah… Sh—They also have a cute side, I guess?” Stelle averts her gaze, scratching her cheek, regretting the direction she took this conversation immediately. “I mean, there are moments where even they feel afraid, and that they worry about the future. Hell, I have seen them get stuck pondering on what to eat, or what to wear when they go out…”
“But even so… No matter what’s in front of her, she faces everything head on. Even if it’s death itself, she’d fight her hardest just to keep living. She’s the kind of person who sees the bright side in every situation, no matter how bleak it is, and I always find myself wishing I had that same sort of outlook sometimes.”
An ending more beautiful than any daydream. Stelle—no, a past version of her had promised Firefly that before. She couldn’t remember exactly why, nor the circumstances that led up to it, and every day ever since regaining that memory she cursed her past life for deciding to wipe her own mind. How could she not?
It seemed impossible to find something more beautiful than any daydream, when to Stelle, that sentence was the closest thing that painted a portrait of Firefly to her.
“She’s someone whose warmth is enough to set the sea of stars ablaze. And I don’t just mean that in the literal sense.”
Ah, she was weaving poetry again. A habit she always had and couldn’t get rid of when it came to Firefly, she supposed mpw.
Wait, crap—how much had she just said out loud?
Stelle tturned to Hotaru. The young actress was quiet, eyes focused, as if she was internalizing everything the Trailblazer had said.
“I see,” she finally said, nodding slowly. “I think… I have a better understanding of what SAM is like now. Thank you for indulging me, Miss Stelle.”
“Ahahaha, you’re welcome… In return, if you could do me a favor, could you please not repeat any of that to anyone?”
“I won’t,” Hotaru affirmed, a small smile on her face. “I can tell… that you must like SAM a lot.”
“I guess I do…” Stelle admitted, an awkward laugh slipping out of her followed by a sigh. Aeons, she must miss Firefly terribly if she was spilling all of this to someone she’d met forty minutes ago.
“Please don’t worry! I’m good at keeping secrets,” Hotaru clarified, concerned that Stelle didn’t have faith in her.
“It’s okay, I believe you,” Stelle smiled back. “Uh, was there anything else you needed? Just ask away at this point.”
"Well… the others wanted feedback too, but they're all too nervous to come over after earlier…"
“Figured,” Stelle sighed. What was she even supposed to say about Kafka's actress? She was fine. And Blade was more or less a blur in Stelle's memory anyway—he was definitely the Hunter she knew the least, at least for the time being. “Well, you can tell Silvie to ham it up a little more. Being a bit of a girlfailure is part of Wolfie’s charm.”
Hotaru chuckled. “I’ll make sure to pass that along.”
“...And don’t tell anyone about what I shared with you, okay?”
“I won’t, I promise!”
Firefly sat at her recovery station, her body stable enough that she could use the upright version of the device rather than lying inside the pod. The holographic TV screen Silver Wolf had set up played a figure that looked unmistakably like her armored self, driving a fist through a wall of enemies before the screen bloomed into fire and light.
A part of her could have felt strange about this—the Iron Cavalry, reduced to a children's show, something to be played at on Sunday mornings.
But still, a smile formed on her lips.
A notification came from a different screen this time—a message from someone she was always eager to talk to.
Firefly chuckled, turning her attention back to the TV screen, where the end credits were now quietly rolling.
Right. Firefly was no hero—she'd never pretend otherwise. But if the Iron Cavalry had to leave something behind in this world, she thought it wouldn’t hurt if it was something like this. Something bright, something that gave children a reason to get up on Sunday mornings, rather than the record of a wanted criminal that she was.
That said…
If AR-214 were here, Firefly was sure she would have loved every second of it.