Chapter Text
“For this performance, you will once again be playing the ‘protagonist’”
…
“Will the hero shoulder all the wishes, ignite the Stellaron, and fell the demon lord in a single blow?”
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“… or become the calamitous embers that bring ‘Finality’ upon this world?”
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“A hero who tried to save Planarcadia, but ended up accidentally smashing it to pieces… now THAT is what I call a ‘smash-hit’ comedy!”
…
Sigh
“Do you ever shut-up?”
Stelle spun the pair of light batons in her hands. She could feel the power in her chest. A pulsing that timed with each insult the Lord Ravager threw at her. Stelle had felt worse. Amphoreus had left scars that would never heal. It was not as though Stelle lacked empathy for the planet once called Ahatopia. She didn’t care that the ancients of Benzaitengoku were long gone. The fight between the Anti-Matter legion and Graphia’s retreat were just stories to her. Stelle had lived stories. Lived in stories of golden blooded legends. Travelled back and forth through time. She would stand up for the people of modern Planarcadia. But for her, it was because trouble followed them. Asat Pramad had been inflicting pain upon Himeko since she was a child. Stelle cared about that. She cared about her family. For her, to trailblaze was to stand by her family no matter what. Perhaps that was why the Aeon’s paid her such heed. Stelle was drawn to her friends and their needs. She selflessly and passionately pushed forward. All the complicated mumbo-jumbo of reality didn’t leave any marks on her.
Except Amphoreus. That scar would likely never heal. She had been too deep into that world, into that Trailblaze. Stelle had learnt from that mistake. She needed to keep a certain distance now. To be careful not to be drawn in and burnt up.
What’s stretching so far along? Oh
The rails or our mutual bond? Oh
Finishing the twirling of the batons, Stelle slammed the ends together and twisted, turning them into a dual sided quarterstaff, yellow lightning sparking down either end. She looked up at the titan that was Asat Pramad. Started running towards him. Here in the Phantasmoon Courtyard, the silhouette of golden tree behind the metal giant of blue, red and brass, the two sparred. It wasn’t the first time Stelle had fought foes several times her size. A memory of Cocolia and the bitterly cold planet of Belobog.
A hand came falling down. At the last second Stelle rolled out the way, keeping her momentum and getting up on her feet, no speed lost. The titan’s hand came crashing down, Stelle dodging the palm as it crashed into the soil of the courtyard. Strange metallic quadrupeds, like twisted puppets with their strings cut loose, imaginae creatures forged from Asat’s boundless wishpower, flickered into existence. Four blocked Stelle’s path to the Lord Ravager.
“Move it or lose it!”
Stelle ran even faster, heedless of the danger. At the last second she dropped into a slide, confident the soil of the courtyard was loose enough to let her coast along it. She wasn’t just moving this way for style. The puppets that had been rush Stelle didn’t know how to react. That cost the imaginae their limbs. Stelle swept the double-sized energy staff in a circle, connecting with the two puppets in the middle. Eight severed limbs clattered to the ground. Whatever held the puppets together collapsed, their forms flickering and turning into gluey squares of matter. Like 3D pixels that lost all cohesion and spilt everywhere. The final two puppets scuttled rapidly forward.
Stelle could feel it. Her instincts taking over. She had learnt so much since Herta Station. To listen to the pulsing of her heart. The warning of danger. Still sliding, Stelle rolled quickly to one side. A beam of energy from the eye of the titan scorched a smoking line across the soil, vitrifying the dirt and turning the remaining puppets to slag that melted into dead pixels.
“Stelle, hang in there!” a squeaky voice shouted in Stelle’s synaesthesia beacon comm, “We’re on our way!”
“This century would be nice,” Stelle called back.
Kipping up to her feet, Stelle took a moment to size up her opponent. The twin energy beams of her staff could probably cut into the metal monstrosity. But it would only be small cuts. Enough to annoy the Lord Ravager.
And little more.
She needed time.
In Stelle’s heart there was a twist. A moment. Not necessarily hesitation. Caution. She could feel the interstellar cancer pulsing with power. So close to a Lord Ravager it was no doubt harmonising with his power. It came from the same place. But that power was Stelle’s greatest weapon. Much as she lacked direct investment in the people around her, except the Express Crew, that lack of connection could also become a connection. A fluidity.
“What, still holding back?” the Lord Ravager taunted. “Come on, make use of your invincible Stellaron and do something!”
A twist. The double-sided staff disappeared. In Stelle’s hand was a lance, most of the weapon crafted from a long spike of glowing amber. Taking aim, Stelle started running parallel to her opponent. Drawing her arm back, Stelle hurled the weapon with unusual strength. Strength that should not be found inside the body of an average sized humanoid. Fire licked the weapon as it left Stelle’s hand. A lance of fire piercing the air as it was hurled toward its target. Destruction flowed through her veins. Enough strength to send the lance in a straight line into the brass dice eye of Asat Pramad. Hit with enough force to send out of rumble of sound. The sound of wrenching metal.
Stelle smirked as Asat Pramad clawed at the amber needle piercing its eye. She hoped that for an imaginae entity, that even lack nerves, it hurt.
“What’s the rush… the show’s just getting started,” Stelle taunted back. If Asat wanted to smack talk, she’d smack him verbally and literally right back.
Smug, arrogant bastard never knew when to shut up. He liked the sound of his voice far too much.
We track through the quiet land
To carry us across the sand, you say
“Funny, I was thinking your show’s about to end.”
Holding out her hand to one side, Stelle summoned the lance to her side, the weapon shattering in Asat Pramad’s eyes even as reformed beside it’s master. Stelle hefted the weapon, held out her other hand and made a mocking approach motion.
“Come on. Crack another joke you joke of a father. Joke of a Lord Ravager. Can’t even stop one little human.”
Asat chuckled. His metallic eye was dripping golden fluid, the searing blood striking the sand of the courtyard and searing it.
“Those who pass the challenge are worthy of a reward. What I mean is, you’ve earned the right to face me… Phase! Two!”
Stelle didn’t even bother rolling her eyes or supressing the unimpressed groan. This man was like a bad stand-up comedy chore. He didn’t know when to get off the stage.
“Ladies and gentleman, may I present to you: my second mask!”
The air rippled with the heat of spilt golden blood and bad one-liners. A second enormous titan appeared. This one with floating necklace of brassy sphere orbiting around it. Now Stelle was reassessing their fight. Two Lord Ravagers changed the dynamic entirely.
“I guess a bad joke has an awful punchline,” Stelle quipped back.
The bassy orbs started landing around Stelle, crashing hard enough to crater the courtyard. It took every bit of her training Dan Heng had forced on the woman every day to avoid being crushed. One came too close, a sphere she couldn’t avoid. Her body couldn’t move fast enough. Stelle slammed the lance into the ground and drew on the well within her. A field of amber wrapped around her body, the sphere smacking against the shield before bouncing away. Cracks appeared amber hued shield. Then came more spheres, pummelling her from all sides. The cracks turned into a vast spiderweb of damage as the second Asat reduced the amber protection into flaking powder.
When the spheres converged to crush her, Stelle leapt high into the air. Only for the first Asat’s hand, holding its own lance, to stab at her.
Twist. The blue feathered fedora seemed out of place in this place of battle. Stelle took aim and flung the hat on a perfectly curved arc. It struck the lance, exploding with the power of the Harmony. Conjured from above, countless echoes of Clockie's face rain down. Each impact of Harmony’s energy drove the dance a little off course. A little further towards the ground. When finally the lance reached Stelle, it had been struck off course enough not to impale her. Instead, she landed on the hand and began running up the limb of the Titan.
“So many tricks. You’re like a magician.”
“Can I shove a rabbit like you back into my hat!”
Asat actually chuckled at that one.
“Alright, enough joking around. Time to get serious. Now, feast your eyes on what I attained in my first battle to the death with the Great Destroyer – my third mask.”
Stelle was focussed on keep balance as she ran up the moving arm of Asat. But she could see another Asat flicker into existence like scratches on old celluloid film. This one hand an enormous singular sphere in its hands.
“Now would be a good time to show up,” Stelle grizzled, unhappy taking the crew so long.
Regardless, she would blaze forward. Past the elbow. Up the bicep. Stelle was moments from Asat’s face. Stelle knew the Lord Ravager would be wondering just what Stelle was going to do. An ant against a giant.
It was time for another joke. Stelle arced her hat at Asat again. A bee sting. A distraction. The fedora glanced off the metal skin.
Twist.
In Stelle’s hand was a feather quill. It was a power she was reluctant to use. It reminded her too much of the recent past. But her best friend would appreciate it. Would put a hand on her shoulder and tell her to push forward. Stelle wrote the word ‘trailblaze’ in the air and called Mem to her side. The small pink creature looked to Stelle and smiled. An echo of the real person. Something to give Stelle strength. Then the two acted as one, as they had always done. Stelle jumped off the arm, to go sailing past the Lord Ravager’s face. Mem flew behind. Asat’s eye was already glowing. The build up of power before another laser scorched the gnat in front of her.
The problem was Stelle was smiling and Asat hadn’t made any jokes. Except the knowledge that to Stelle, this being was a joke.
Holding out her hands, Stelle recalled the book she was part of. Held out her hands as though grasping the cover.
As I’ve Written.
The front cover held by Stelle. The rear my Mem. An enormous silver and crystal book shaped from the power of Remembrance. Holding immense memetic power flowing from countless pages. Millions of years held within one tome.
And Stelle slammed the book on Asat’s head.
The sound of metal bowing and crunching could be heard throughout the courtyard. Stelle was pretty certain that must have hurt. Mem came flying around from behind and grabbed Stelle’s hands, helping her glide safely to earth. Panting from the exertion of using so many Paths so quickly, Stelle tried to gather her strength. She was annoying the Lord Ravager. Even hurting the monster a little. But one woman couldn’t do this all day. No matter the Stellaron and the gaze of several Aeons.
“Guess you’re just a footnote,” Stelle managed to get out between deep breaths.
Glancing up, Stelle could see the original Asat clutching at his face. His duplicates, his second and third masks, were already in action. Eyes glowing with power, brassy boulder sized spheres spinning up.
A blue hexagonal portal opened up high in the air. Followed by an energy blast, splitting and striking all three Asat’s in the back. The strike was enough to send them leaning forward, the explosion searing their metallic form.
One day, our weight will fall away
Look out! Ride on, we will lead the way
Oh-oh, oh-oh
“Finally, we made it!” March 7th called over the Comms.
“Pom Pom Promised,” Pom Pom’s squeaky voice followed up. “Each and every one of us nameless…”
The second mask’s arm moved like a serpent. Grabbed the Astral Express before it could land. Yanked it back like it were a toy. Then whipped the vehicle down. It hit the ground with such impact that the golden tree of the Courtyard shook, sending leaves scattering far and wide. The explosion of the impact cascaded down the train carriages. Windows blew out. Wheels warped under the impact. The air was filled with the smell of burning engine oil, scorched wood furniture and molten metal.
“No…”
Stelle could find no other words. Only stare at the devastation.
“Once again, the Express has fallen! How boring! Our express-“
Stelle couldn’t hear the man’s words anymore. Only feel the Stellaron. A glance over her shoulder showed movement amongst the wreckage. They were alive. Barely. They needed time to regroup.
That Stellaron called to Stelle. To the one power she had avoided. Even more than Remembrance. The quill pen blackened then burnt as her original self came to the surface. She held her hand low. From it sprung a bat the colour of burnt dreams. It glowed with a golden inner light. Destruction laced through Stelle’s desires.
“Stelle. Wait!”
It sounded like Himeko’s mellifluous voice. Stelle ignored it. She had one desire. To destroy this bastard that had hurt her friend. This time her movements were direct. Rushing at the first mask, the original Asat. The titans hand made a sweep from left to right. Bunching up for a batter’s swing, Stelle struck the hand trying to crush her. The sound of the impact was nearly as loud as Astral Expresses crash. The hand flew back.
“Well, well,” Asat said with appreciation.
“I can deal with hecklers,” Stelle replied, her vision not red with fury, but golden with the ideal of destroying anything that threatened the few people she cared about.
Metal spheres tried to crush Stelle, each knocked with a quick over the shoulder swing. The third mask’s eyes flared, lasers following it’s gaze. Stelle held up her bat, hands gripping either end, and channelled her anger into the bat. She could feel her blood turning golden as her desire to destroy her foe took over. The lasers, their power waning, ceased the assault. The problem was that the brilliant light of the lasers had hidden punchline from Asat. A cheeky joke in the form of the lance that the original wielded. Stelle didn’t have time to move. To defend.
I stand in promise, with my heart unchained
No eyes will call in vain to say my name
She lay upon a golden road. Nobody had told her how she got there. It didn’t matter. In her mind she set aside all other thoughts. Only that she couldn’t give up. Not yet. On her feet in a second, her limbs followed that path. The only path she had ever walked. A path she would always follow.
In the world between consciousness and dreams. The liminal space where Penacony lived, Stelle ran. She didn’t notice the crimson expanding all over her chest. Didn’t notice the heart which had stopped pulsing long ago. Which didn’t beat.
‘You must become used to loss in order to continue onwards’
Stelle ran forward. Her body hurt. Pain trying to drag her down. She ignored it all and ran through the meadow of hazy blue flowers. A meadow that melted and flowed away even as the crimson poured and began to coat Stelle’s legs. What was left was a golden path. The path she had always followed. A path she had blazed with unceasing confidence.
‘My unfulfilled promises… I will fulfil them tomorrow.’
On that golden road of pain, Stelle saw flickers of her past. The echoes of the Stellaron and all it had tied to her. A bat in hand, Dan Heng and March 7th meeting her for the first time. Now the amber lance in her hands, Bronya with a discerning look, steel in Seele’s gaze. A jade momento, Fu Xuan with folded arms, Jing Yuan and his ever-present smirk. A hat filled with possibilities, The Watchmaker forever asleep in his dream, flanked by the echo that was Misha.
The pain was near overwhelming. Stelle kept on going. Though her eyes did linger to the side for longer this time. Cyrene and Mem, a quill pen in Stelle’s bloodied hands.
‘I will prove that we can move onward without making these so-called sacrifices’
Of course those thoughts would bring more back. Friends she had met along the way. On Herta, Belobog, Xianzhou Luofu, Penacony, Amphoreus…
And there they were. Tribbie, Aglaea, Mydei, Hysilens, Anaxagoras, Castorice, Cerydra, Hyacine.
Khaslana.
Stelle pushed back against those moments. Against the Stellaron. Ran down that golden path with all her force.
‘Not again. Never again.’
‘So- The Astral Express only has one navigator. No matter the reason…’
The golden path grew so bright Stelle couldn’t see where she was going. Only that she was bathed in the light.
“She’s breathing!” a panicked voice cried out.
Stelle lay on the ground. There was no strength left in her. Not even enough to blink. Warm blood pooled around her. March was crouched beside her, bow a blur as she shot arrow after arrow. She took the time to spare another glance.
“Mr Welt!?”
Welt was on his knees beside Stelle. He was doing… something. It didn’t feel like… anything. That was something curious. Stelle’s mind hooked onto that impossibility. She had felt the gaze of several Aeon’s. Bathed in their power. Whatever Welt was doing, it had nothing to do with pathstriding.
Stelle coughed, blood trickling down the corners of her lips. Welt’s eyes narrowed.
“Stay still,” he said in a calm voice. “Stay with me, Stelle. Listen to my voice. I’m repairing the damage to your body. It will take time. I have to reconstruct your body at the cellular level.”
Welt’s face was pale.
“Not again,” he muttered, “Not like Joyce. I won’t sit by while another friend bleeds out.”
“Himeko,” Stelle managed. That one word was enough to throw her mind into a world of pain.
“Somehow,” Welt muttered, “She wouldn’t let me repair her until you are stable.”
Welt glanced over his shoulder. Sunday had a hand on Himeko’s shoulder, no doubt using his tuning to take away the pain of her injury. The Navigator was leaning against a polearm, a red pennant flying high from it’s end. The woman’s breathing was laboured.
“Himeko, you’re in a far worse…” Welt tried to speak up.
“Just help her,” Himeko replied between gasps, “Trust your Navigator to see this through.”
Just let those set options come, oh
None will we choose as fate's outcome, oh