With the incident cleared up, Gallagher leaves the group to their own devices, wishing them a wonderful experience in this land of dreams before turning away and disappearing into the crowd. The music resumes, the lights continue to shimmer, and the brief disturbance fades into just another forgotten moment in Penacony.
"I owe you a big one," the girl said, looking at Tsutsumi. "If- wait, where are you going?"
She hadn't even finished her sentence before Tsutsumi started walking off. No hesitation. No reply. Just a quiet decision to move.
"Uh, wait! I'm Firefly. I'm a local here, and I work as a stage performer, although right now I'm just an extra."
Firefly quickly followed, adjusting her pace to match his. She stayed slightly to his side, careful not to block his path. Her tone remained casual, like this was an ordinary introduction and not something planned.
Tsutsumi didn't react.
"Little girl, I don't think he is interested in talking," Jingliu said calmly, watching Firefly keep up with them.
Firefly glanced at her and gave a small smile.
"That's fine. I'm not in a hurry."
She continued walking as if she had simply decided to go in the same direction. Tsutsumi's silence wasn't aggressive; he just didn't have much interest in talking with her. His goal right now is to look for Acheron first incase she got lost.
Still, Firefly didn't give up.
According to Elio, her previous role in the script had been scrapped entirely. What she was originally meant to do here had shifted.
Her new script was for her to make contact and gain the trust of the Emanator of Finality.
What she told him about being a local of Penacony was nothing more than a cover-up.
Her name was indeed Firefly.
That much was real.
But she was also SAM of the Stellaron Hunters.
The Stellaron Hunters were formed by Elio, the so-called Slave of Destiny, a being capable of seeing into infinite possibilities of the future. To Elio, timelines were not singular. They branched, overlapped, collapsed, and reformed. Every decision created variations. Every variation led to a different conclusion.
Their view of Finality is practical and strategic, centered on the idea that while a specific ending is inevitable, the path to that ending can be manipulated.
The Hunters accepted their roles in Elio's scripts, even when it required personal sacrifice. Not because they enjoyed it, but because from Elio's perspective, those sacrifices prevented worse outcomes.
Without intervention, the universe would collapse into far worse conclusions.
Unlike other followers of Finality who might wait for the end to arrive, the Hunters take an active, often "criminal" role to ensure the "best possible future".
Elio's original script for this world had been proceeding smoothly.
Until Decade showed up, and was acknowledged as the Emanator of Finality.
That single change disrupted everything.
When Elio tried to observe Decade's role in this world, the feedback nearly fractured their perception. And causing them to scrap their entire script and write a new one.
To put it simply, everything was Decade's fault!
The timelines around him refused to remain consistent.
Decade kept appearing and disappearing from the world's timeline, as if stepping in and out of it freely. His existence resembled Terminus, the Aeon of Finality, a being that came back from the future, and now existed outside conventional space and time.
Decade did not move through events.
He intersected with them. And in every planet or place that Decade set foot in, the script of that world shifted.
Sometimes it completely went off the rails.
Sometimes it was destroyed.
In some cases, he helped fix their problems. He resolved disasters, removed threats, and prevented collapse.
But the moment "Decade" appeared, the world changed around him.
Those who once thanked him later turned on him. Even without acting with intent, the Decade of then accelerated that ending, causing the end of the world.
Simply by existing.
From what Elio could see, the longer Decade had time to grow, the stronger he would become. That potential was visible in one distant future, faint, unstable, but undeniable.
Two armored figures floating within an open rift in space and time. A fracture cut through reality itself.
Decade hovered across from a black and golden armored Rider. The Rider's red eyes looked down at him from above.
"You.
Cannot.
Defeat.
ME!"
The armored figure's voice echoed across the rift, carrying through broken layers of space and time.
"Then I'll fight you FOREVER!"
Decade answered without hesitation.
Their voices overlapped with the distortion around them as both charged forward. The impact twisted the rift further, bending what little structure remained in that fractured timeline.
Then the vision ended.
Elio couldn't determine who that black and golden armored Rider was.
They only understood one thing.
Decade's potential to grow was limitless.
The glimpse they saw existed within a fracture, a timeline with no visible beginning and no clear ending.
A possibility hanging at the edge of perception.
Fortunately or unfortunately, Elio couldn't see beyond that clash. Which is why the Stellaron Hunters were redirected.
To make contact with Decade, befriend him if possible. If not, establish cooperation.
Because if that distant, unknown timeline ever materialized, if that god-like armored being truly appeared.
Then only Decade could match the strength of that god-like figure.
Seeing that all of her attempts to start a conversation had failed, Firefly briefly considered changing tactics.
Maybe she could tear up a little, act pitiful while crying. Make it seem like she was being ignored on purpose.
It would probably get a reaction.
But she looked at Tsutsumi's expression and immediately dismissed the idea. If anything, it would only annoy him. So she decided to keep quiet.
After all, they weren't even friends. There was no reason for him to pity her, and she wasn't about to force something artificial just to get his attention.
Instead, she simply followed silently behind him like a little duckling, hands clasped behind her back, matching his pace without complaint.
Ahead of them, Feixiao darted across rooftops and balconies, her movements light and quick as she searched for Acheron.
A few minutes later, she dropped back down in front of them with a small hop.
"Sorry, I can't seem to find her anywhere," Feixiao said, shaking her head, her fox ears lowering slightly in disappointment.
"I knew she said her sense of direction was off, but I didn't expect it to be this terrible," Jingliu murmured, sounding more baffled than concerned.
"Where the hell is she?" Tsutsumi muttered in annoyance, pulling out a card.
As for Acheron...
"Where am I?" she murmured quietly to herself.
She was somehow standing in the center of Penacony Grand Theater, surrounded by bright stage lights and drifting illusions, staring at an empty audience hall as if it had suddenly appeared around her.
She blinked slowly.
This wasn't where she meant to go.
Moments later, Tsutsumi, using W Xtreme, has located her position, headed directly toward her, and dragged her back before she could wander off again.
With everyone finally accounted for, the group headed toward one of the Dreamscape hotels, a place designed for tourists and guests to rest after spending time inside the Dreamscape.
In a world where people slept to enter dreams, this was a place where people rested inside the dream itself.
Basically, a hotel inside a hotel.
The doorman at the entrance stood upright, maintaining a perfectly sincere smile. His posture was disciplined, his uniform neat. In a place like this, even a slight mistake in expression could offend the wrong guest.
He had already greeted dozens of visitors.
His cheeks were starting to feel stiff. Just as his nerves were beginning to dull, a presence approached that immediately pulled him out of his routine.
A man walked toward the entrance with a calm, unhurried pace.
He looked like someone who had stepped out of a storybook, a young, handsome prince with refined features and a natural aura of authority.
His emerald green eyes carried a faint smile, warm but distant. His sharply arched brows gave him an edge of cold pride that contrasted with that smile.
Beside him were women who would draw attention anywhere.
A tall, confident Foxian whose movements were lively and assured.
A white-haired beauty with crimson red eyes, her presence cold and composed.
A stunning purple-haired woman holding his hand, her expression calm but subtly possessive.
And slightly behind them, a silver-haired girl with a quiet charm that was hard to ignore.
The group moved together naturally, without hesitation. The doorman snapped out of his daze and immediately bowed deeply.
"Welcome," he said with renewed energy.
They entered the hotel lobby, its interior decorated with polished marble floors and soft golden lighting that reflected off crystal fixtures overhead.
The receptionist looked up as they approached. She froze for half a second upon hearing him booking a single room.
Her gaze moved from Tsutsumi, then to the four women beside him, then back to Tsutsumi.
"Esteemed guest," she began carefully, maintaining her professional smile, "pardon me for asking, but… your group is quite large for a single bedroom."
Before Tsutsumi could answer, Feixiao stepped forward confidently.
"I belong to him, so it should be fine." Her tone was casual, as if stating something obvious.
"I also belong to him, so being by his side shouldn't be an issue," Jingliu added calmly, her voice steady and unbothered.
Acheron, whose senses had only just fully settled after being retrieved, felt something tighten faintly in her chest upon hearing that.
Without thinking too much about it, she tightened her hold on Tsutsumi's hand and muttered quietly, "I'm also with him. Sharing one room should be fine."
The receptionist's smile almost faltered.
She clearly had not expected to witness a guest calmly bring four women into one room and have them state it so naturally.
The receptionist recovered quickly, professionalism returning like a switch being flipped.
"Of course. My apologies," she said, lowering her head slightly.
Without further comment, she handed Tsutsumi the keycard to a single premium room, her expression respectful and carefully neutral.
"Please enjoy your stay."
...
Entering their room, they quickly noticed there was only one massive bed placed at the center of the suite. It was large enough to fit several people comfortably, clearly designed for luxury rather than practicality.
Tsutsumi wasn't bothered.
To him, this room was only a temporary base. A place to regroup, exchange information, or speak privately.
He walked further inside and sat down on the sofa near the window, posture relaxed but not careless.
"Say, Boss," Feixiao asked, leaning onto Tsutsumi's shoulder as he settled in. "Although you managed to cure Jingliu's Mara Struck, I just wonder… what would happen now that her Mara Struck no longer affects her?"
Tsutsumi didn't look at her.
"She will still age normally," he replied calmly. "But as time goes by, her old memories will slowly fade to make room for new ones."
The room grew quiet.
Jingliu stood still for a moment after hearing that.
She understood there was always a trade-off. Removing Mara Struck meant removing the madness and the endless cycle tied to it. But nothing came without a cost.
If her memories faded over time, then one day she would no longer remember certain things.
Battles.
Regrets.
The people she lost.
The few moments of happiness she once had.
She might never fall into Mara again. But she would also never hold onto everything she once carried.
"I see…" she murmured softly.
Her relationship with Tsutsumi wasn't deep. Not close enough for her to demand more from him. Their relationship now is that of a master and servant; they aren't even equal for her to ask him to alter fate further in her favor.
She lowered her gaze slightly.
A person's memory, Remembrance, was sacred. It defined who they were. To lose it slowly, piece by piece, was like watching parts of yourself disappear.
Even so, she accepted it.
Only then did Jingliu notice the silver-haired girl still standing near the entrance.
"Little girl, you're still here?" she asked, observing the faint blush on Firefly's face.
"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to disturb you," Firefly said quickly, stepping back toward the door.
Her mind was racing.
Her script was to make contact and interact with the Emanator of Finality.
It did not specify anything beyond that.
She had not mentally prepared herself to stay in the same room as him, much less sleep in the same bed.
If it were someone like Kafka, she might not hesitate. Kafka had experience and confidence in seduction tactics. Firefly didn't.
Elio had repeatedly warned them.
Not to anger Decade nor turn him into their enemy.
They had been shown multiple timelines.
In those timelines, Decade became their enemy. And the Stellaron Hunters were completely wiped out without mercy. Even Blade, an immortal known for being unkillable, was killed.
If someone like him could fall, what chance did the rest of them have?
Before Firefly could step any further back, Tsutsumi suddenly spoke. "Feixiao, hold her down and keep her hands visible behind her back."
Firefly's eyes widened in shock. In an instant, Feixiao moved.
She grabbed Firefly's wrists and pinned her down to the floor, restraining both hands neatly behind her back. Her movements were efficient, controlled, without excess force.
"W-Wait!" Firefly gasped, her heartbeat accelerating.
Tsutsumi stood up. As he did, his appearance shifted, returning to his original form, the same face Elio had shown her before this mission began.
Her breathing grew uneven.
"P-Please, don't… I don't want this…" she murmured weakly, afraid of being deflowered.
Even though this was the Dreamscape and not her physical body, she would still experience everything. Sensations felt here would imprint on her mind. Her real body would remember it.
Fear tightened her chest.
Tsutsumi walked forward and crouched down in front of her. His purple gaze locked onto her, steady and unreadable.
"Tell me your true reason for being here, SAM," he said calmly.
Her pupils trembled.