The "Celestial Express" was supposed to be the height of Narakkan engineering. It was a silver, bullet-shaped marvel that glided on rails made of pure light, cutting through the pink clouds like a hot knife through butter. Inside, it was all velvet, mahogany, and the faint, sweet smell of "Dream Nectar" wafting through the vents. It was a place for the rich to feel safe while the world beneath them rotted.
But right now, it felt like a coffin.
"Is it just me, or did the vibe just go from 'first-class' to 'disaster movie' real quick?" Roselia asked, her fingers dancing over the hilts of her daggers. She was leaning against a velvet-covered pillar, her eyes locked on the jagged hole in the ceiling where the two strangers had just vanished.
"It's not just you," Joshua replied. He stood in the center of the shaking carriage, his boots planted firmly to combat the violent tilting of the train. Through Kage's eyes, he could see the magical rails outside flickering and snapping like broken neon lights. "The propulsion is dead. We aren't gliding anymore. We're falling."
"Falling? Like, falling-falling?" Sharla shrieked, clutching the Reality Stabilizer to her chest. "Because this island is like, ten thousand feet up! I'm too young to be a pancake, Joshua! I haven't even finished my Master's degree in illegal tinkering yet!"
"Kairyn! Get to the cockpit!" Joshua barked. "See if there's a manual brake! Roselia, secure the doors! If those 'Travelers' come back, I want to hear them coming."
Kairyn didn't waste a breath. He sprinted toward the front of the train, his heavy boots tearing through the expensive carpet. "I'm on it! But no promises! This tech is all Myth-made—it probably runs on 'Happy Thoughts,' and I'm feeling pretty grumpy right now!"
Joshua looked up at the hole in the roof. The wind was howling through the gap, whipping his white blindfold around his head. He could still feel the phantom heat from where Sara had whispered in his ear.
"The Manager is waiting for his lead actor."
Who was this Percival? And why did a ten-thousand-year-old manager of some "Academy" in deep space care about a blind swordsman from a floating island?
"Joshua! Look out!" Kage screamed from his perch.
A massive chunk of a floating island—a piece of the "District of False Joy" that had broken off during the riot—was drifting directly into the train's path.
"Brace!" Joshua roared.
CRASH.
The train didn't hit the island head-on, but it scraped the side. The sound was deafening—the screech of metal on rock, sparks flying everywhere like a fireworks show gone wrong. The entire carriage flipped onto its side, sending furniture, bottles of nectar, and people flying.
Joshua slammed into a wall, his shoulder barking in pain. He tasted copper. "Roselia! Sharla!"
"I'm... I'm good," Roselia's voice came from under a pile of velvet curtains. She popped her head out, looking like a very angry red-haired ghost. "But I think I just broke a nail. Someone is definitely going to pay for that."
"The Anchor is safe!" Sharla called out from a luggage rack she had somehow wedged herself into. "But the train isn't! We're losing altitude fast! We're about to drop out of Narakka's atmosphere and into the Inter-Space Void!"
"Kairyn, talk to me!" Joshua shouted, pulling himself up using his sword as a crutch.
"The brakes are fried!" Kairyn yelled back from the cockpit. "But I found the emergency 'Void Sails'! If I deploy them, we might be able to steer this wreck toward the Inter-Space Station at the edge of the nebula! It's our only shot!"
"Do it!"
With a massive thwump, giant sheets of shimmering, translucent fabric erupted from the sides of the train. They caught the cosmic winds, slowing the descent from a terminal plunge to a shaky, high-speed glide.
The pink clouds of Narakka began to thin out, replaced by the deep, terrifying purple of the space plane. Ahead of them, a massive structure began to loom out of the darkness. It looked like a giant metallic snowflake, spinning slowly against the backdrop of a swirling nebula.
"That's it," Kairyn panted, stumbling back into the carriage. "The Neutral Zone. The Space Station. If we can land there, we can find a ship. But we're coming in hot. Like, 'entering the atmosphere without a heat shield' hot."
"Everyone, get to the back!" Joshua commanded. "We're going to use the shadow-buffer!"
Roselia understood immediately. She stepped to the center of the room, her hands glowing with a dark, pulsing crimson energy. "This is going to drain me, Josh. You better buy me a really expensive dinner after this."
"The most expensive," Joshua promised.
Roselia slammed her hands into the floor. "Shadow Cocoon: Total Enclosure!"
Shadows poured out of her like liquid ink, coating the interior of the carriage in a thick, rubbery layer of darkness. It acted like an airbag, cushioning them as the train finally hit the landing bay of the Space Station.
The impact was a bone-jarring sequence of thuds and screeches. The train skipped across the metal landing strip, smashing through several parked transport ships and a very expensive-looking billboard before finally coming to a halt against a massive blast door.
Silence.
Only the sound of hissing steam and the ticking of cooling metal filled the air.
Joshua pushed himself out of the shadow-cushion. He felt like he'd been put through a blender, but he was alive. He helped Roselia up—she looked exhausted, her face pale from the effort of the spell.
"We... we landed?" Sharla whispered, peeked out from her corner.
"Technically, we 'crashed' with style," Roselia muttered, leaning on Joshua.
They kicked open the warped door of the train and stepped out onto the station's floor. The Inter-Space Station was a chaotic mess. It was filled with travelers from a dozen different worlds—merchants with three eyes, robotic dockworkers, and shady-looking mercenaries in glowing armor.
But as they stepped onto the deck, the giant holographic screens hanging from the ceiling flickered. The ads for "Space-Burgers" and "Ship Repairs" vanished.
In their place appeared a man sitting in a high-backed leather chair. He was wearing a tuxedo that looked like it was woven from starlight, and he held a glass of dark red wine. He had a sharp, handsome face and a smile that didn't reach his eyes—eyes that looked like they had seen the birth and death of a thousand suns.
"Welcome, welcome!" the man said, his voice echoing through the entire station. It was smooth, theatrical, and dripping with sarcasm. "What an entrance! The lighting was a bit dim, and the choreography was a mess, but the 'Crash' finale? Bravo! 10/10 for the drama!"
"Percival," Joshua hissed, his hand moving to his sword.
"Oh, he knows my name! I'm flattered!" Percival laughed, leaning toward the camera. "My dear Joshua, and the lovely Roselia—you two are the talk of the nebula. Everyone is wondering when the 'King of Narakka' is going to finally take the stage at the Entertainment Academy."
"We aren't your actors, Percival!" Roselia yelled at the screen. "And we aren't joining your circus!"
"Circus? My dear, this is the Universe's biggest stage!" Percival's expression suddenly shifted. The playful smile vanished, replaced by a cold, predatory stare. "And whether you like it or not, you're already under contract. Your parents signed the papers a long, long time ago."
Joshua's heart skipped a beat. "What did you say?"
"Come and find me, Little Star," Percival whispered, taking a slow sip of his wine. "I've prepared a special 'Welcome Home' trap—I mean, party—just for you. Oh, and watch out for the 'Talent Scouts.' They can be a bit... aggressive when they want an autograph."
The screens cut to black.
Almost immediately, a group of men in sleek, neon-trimmed combat suits stepped out from the shadows of the hangar. They held glowing batons and energy nets.
"Identification: Joshua Kirishima. Status: Lead Actor," one of them said in a robotic drone. "Please come with us. The Manager does not like to be kept waiting."
"Get behind me," Joshua said to his team, his black blade singing as it left the sheath. "Looks like we're not getting that dinner just yet, Roselia."
"Typical," she sighed, though she was already summoning shadows to her daggers. "Let's show these 'Talent Scouts' what a real performance looks like."