Bailu's hands were already moving. Pulling bandages from the gourd. Vials clinking. Her fingers worked fast, checking the pulse of the first fallen mara-struck.
She didn't look up. "I've been studying healing since I cast off my old shell. You're looking at a recognized practitioner. A dedicated doctor."
Pride clear in her voice. Like she was daring them to question it.
March leaned toward Stelle. Whispered, but not quietly enough. "Belobog kids are making snowmen while children here are writing prescriptions."
Bailu's ears twitched. She glanced up. Sharp. "Right now, things haven't been peaceful. Don't go wandering around, okay?"
March straightened quickly. "Don't worry. Your General allowed us to be here."
Bailu's tail swished once. Hard. Then she went back to work. "Just saying. Seeing as you saved me just now, if you're unlucky enough to get injured..." She tied off a bandage. "I'll give you a 20% discount."
Stelle stared. "Sure. We're gonna rely on that then."
"Good."
One of the mara-struck groaned. Low. Pained.
Still human. Still in there somewhere.
Bailu's head snapped toward the sound. Her whole body shifted. Focus narrowing.
She grabbed another vial. Moved. "Alright. See you later. I'm going to be busy with these."
Didn't wait for a response.
Welt stepped back. "We should continue looking for Fu Xuan's messenger."
March nodded, already turning. "Right. Let's split up."
"Where do we even start?" Stelle asked.
"Anywhere," Welt said.
They scattered. March heading east. Welt west. Tingyun toward the docks.
Stelle walked north.
Kevin stood there for a moment. Watching them go.
He could find the messenger. Easily. His senses could sweep the entire district in seconds.
But.
He didn't.
Let them search. Let it play out.
His lips twitched. Not quite a smile.
He turned. Started walking the opposite direction. Away from the plaza. Deeper into the Sanctum.
The man's expression shifted. More earnest. More intense.
"There are those who say the Xianzhou has lost its way. That we've been fighting the wrong battle for centuries."
"What do you mean?"
"Immortality." The word hung heavy. "The Xianzhou treats it like a curse. But what if it isn't? What if there's a path to true, blessed immortality?"
Stelle's eyes narrowed.
The man glanced around. Left. Right. Then stepped closer. Voice dropping.
"Let me introduce myself. I am a member of the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus."
In the shadows nearby, Kevin stood still.
Arms crossed. Watching.
He'd followed Stelle. Not deliberately. Just happened to be walking this way when he saw her talking to the man.
And then the conversation shifted.
Disciples of Sanctus Medicus.
Of course.
Kevin's eyes didn't leave them. The man was leaning in now. Speaking quietly. Fervently. Stelle's face was blank. Listening.
Part of the script. Elio knew this would happen.
Another piece. Another breadcrumb.
Kevin watched for another moment.
Then turned.
Let Stelle handle it. Let the crew piece it together.
He had his own mess to deal with.
Kevin walked.
Not toward the plaza. Not toward the crew. Away.
His footsteps were silent. People passed without looking twice. Just another figure in the crowd.
He reached the edge of Exalting Sanctum. The open viewing platform where ships came and went. Where the artificial sky stretched endlessly above.
Kevin stopped at the railing. Looked up.
Stars. Distant. Cold. Beautiful.
He'd walked between them once. Before the Express hit him.
Time to do it again.
His hand moved to the Ring of Finality. The ring pulsed once. Warm.
Kevin closed his eyes. Took a breath.
Then jumped.
Not down. Up.
His body moved fast. Faster than the eye could follow. He cleared the platform. Cleared the buildings. Shot upward through the artificial atmosphere like a bullet.
The air screamed past him. Then thinned. Then disappeared.
And Kevin was in space.
The void wrapped around him. Silent. Absolute. The kind of silence that pressed against your ears until you heard your own heartbeat.
But Kevin didn't need air. Didn't need warmth.
He floated there. The Luofu hung below him. Massive. Beautiful. A ship the size of a planet.
Kevin turned away.
Could teleport. Push myself faster. But the distance is too large. Would take too long.
Don't have time to waste.
His right hand rose. The Ring of Finality flared brighter. The domain of Reason stirred.
Reason. The domain that constructs. Creates. Builds what shouldn't exist.
Kevin's memories surfaced. Clear. Perfect.
The Hyperion.
He'd seen it in the game. Himeko's ship. Sleek. Elegant. Built for war but moving like poetry.
I can make it.
Energy gathered around his hand. Purple light bleeding into the void. It twisted. Shaped itself. Following the blueprint in Kevin's mind.
Metal formed from nothing. Hull plating. Engine blocks. The skeletal frame of a ship taking shape.
It grew. Fast. The Reason domain didn't hesitate. It simply built.
Wings extended. Engines manifested. The cockpit formed, glass viewports appearing.
Kevin floated in front of it. Watching his creation come to life.
Perfect. Exactly as he remembered. But better.
Upgraded.
Stronger engines. Better shields. A warp drive that could punch through space faster than anything the Xianzhou had.
And something else.
An AI core. Nestled in the heart of the ship. Already active. Already aware.
The ship's lights flickered on. The engines hummed to life.
A voice spoke.
Not through speakers. Directly into his mind. The AI linking with him through the Reason domain.
"System initialization complete. All functions operational."
Calm. Steady. Professional.
And familiar.
Kevin's breath caught.
Mei.
Not exactly. The tone was different. The cadence. But the warmth was there. The quiet confidence.
He hadn't meant to do that.
Had he?
"Captain, are you alright?"
Kevin exhaled slowly. "I'm fine."
"Your biometrics suggest otherwise. Heart rate elevated. Stress indicators present."
"I said I'm fine."
A pause. "Understood. Shall I open the docking bay?"
Kevin nodded.
The side of the ship opened. A hatch extending. A ramp of solid light forming between Kevin and the entrance.
He moved forward. Stepped onto the ramp. It held his weight perfectly despite being made of energy.
Kevin entered the ship.
The interior was exactly as he'd imagined. Command deck. Navigation console. Co-pilot seats. Everything sleek. Functional.
He walked to the captain's chair. Sat down.
The console lit up at his touch. Holographic displays appearing. Systems. Navigation. Power levels. All green.
"Destination?"
Kevin leaned back. "Herta Space Station."
"Calculating route."
The ship hummed. Warp coordinates forming on the display.
"Route calculated. Estimated travel time: forty-seven minutes at maximum warp speed. Recommend immediate departure."
Kevin's hand rested on the armrest. His fingers drummed once. Twice.
"What's your name?"
Silence. Then:
"I don't have one. You didn't give me one."
Kevin closed his eyes.
Didn't mean to make you sound like her.
But did it anyway.
Because part of me needs to hear that voice again. Even if it's not real. Even if it's just an echo I created.
"Mei," Kevin said quietly. "Your name is Mei."
Another pause. Longer.
"Understood. I am Mei. Ship AI of the Hyperion."
A beat.
"Thank you, Captain."
Kevin opened his eyes. Stared at the stars ahead.
"Don't thank me."
"Preparing for warp jump. Please secure yourself."
Kevin gripped the armrests.
The engines roared. Space twisted.
And the Hyperion shot forward.
Into the void.
Toward Herta's Space Station.
Toward answers.
Or toward another mistake.
Kevin didn't know anymore.
But he was moving forward anyway.
Kevin pulled out his communicator. The screen lit up.
The group chat. March, Stelle, Welt.
He typed quickly.
Kevin: Something came up. Continue without me. I'll catch up later.
Short. Direct. No details.
He sent it.
Didn't wait for a response. Just closed the device and slipped it back.
"Approaching destination," Mei's voice said. "Exiting warp in thirty seconds."
Kevin leaned back. Watched the streaks of light outside the viewport slow. Condense. Solidify back into stars.
The warp bubble collapsed.
And there it was.
Herta Space Station.
Massive. A mile-long structure hanging in the void. Sleek white and gold plating caught the light. The station's design was elegant. Scientific. A museum-ship built to house the universe's mysteries.
Behind it, a planet.
Green-blue. Oceanic. The Blue, they called it. Water covered most of its surface, reflecting light like polished glass.
Kevin's eyes slid past it.
The planet didn't matter. Not right now.
"Arrival confirmed. Herta Space Station detected. No active comm requests. Station appears to be on standard operations."
Kevin stood. "Good. Hold position here."
"Understood. Maintaining current coordinates."
Kevin walked toward the airlock. The ship hummed quietly. Stable.
He stopped at the hatch. Looked back at the empty cockpit.
"Mei."
A pause. "Yes, Captain?"
"Thank you."
Silence. Brief. Then, softer: "You're welcome."
Kevin opened the airlock.
Space greeted him. Cold. Silent. Absolute.
He stepped out into the void.
Floated there. The Hyperion behind him. Herta Space Station ahead. The distance between them was nothing. A few kilometers.
Kevin raised his right hand. The Ring of Finality pulsed.
The Hyperion shimmered.
Its form collapsed. Metal folding in on itself. Shrinking. Compressing. The massive warship reduced down until it was no bigger than a pendant.
A small necklace. Simple. Unassuming. Kevin caught it as it floated toward him.
He fastened it around his neck. Felt the weight settle against his chest. Warm.
I'll call you again when I need you.
Kevin turned toward the station.
Then vanished.
Chapter 16.1: Herta's Office
Herta's office was quiet.
Too quiet.
She hated quiet. It meant nothing was happening. Nothing interesting.
She sat at her desk, fingers drumming. Holographic displays floated around her. Data streams. Research logs. Simulated Universe statistics. All boring. All predictable.
She'd already solved three "unsolvable" equations today. Published two papers. Dismissed five researchers for wasting her time with stupid questions.
And it was only noon.
This is insufferable.
Her puppet body leaned back. Purple eyes staring at the ceiling. The wires connecting her to the station's systems hummed faintly.
Maybe she should check on the Simulated Universe. See if anyone had made progress past World 6. Probably not. They never did without her guidance.
Or maybe she should—
The air shifted.
Herta's eyes snapped forward.
Someone was in her office.
Not at the door. Not walking in. Just... there. Standing in the middle of the room like they'd always been there.
A man. Young. White hair with black streaks. Gray eyes that looked tired. Two rings on his hands, one on each. His presence was... wrong. Not threatening. Not aggressive. Just wrong. Like reality had bent slightly to accommodate him.
Herta's puppet didn't move. But behind the mask of her expression, calculations ran. Analysis. Threat assessment.
He bypassed all security. Every sensor. Every ward. Every defensive measure.
He shouldn't be here.
So how is he here?
She spoke. Voice calm. Unbothered. "And who might you be?"