When Robin realized she might be trapped in an illusionary realm, her first instinct was to escape.
While the other members of the Bureau of Anomalous Investigations needed the feathers she had left behind to break free, Robin didn't require such assistance. Her ability was innate—a mere thought activated her aura-based power to dispel debuffs.
Then... nothing happened.
Robin: "???"
She stood frozen in the plaza, her expression blank.
This can't be right. Why isn't it working?
Could it be like the saying, "A doctor can't cure themselves," preventing her ability from affecting her own debuffs? But that didn't make sense. This power had always worked on her before. Why was it failing now?
As Robin puzzled over this, she sensed numerous passersby staring at her, some even whispering among themselves. Having encountered countless fans in the past, she could instantly tell these gazes weren't the excited, awestruck looks of fans spotting a celebrity. There was something else in their eyes.
Still disoriented, Robin knew she couldn't just stand there foolishly. She started jogging in a random direction.
As she passed a roadside billboard, the once-motionless sign suddenly sprang to life, hopping after her while chanting:
"Grab a bottle of SoulGlad, make your dreams a blast!"
The sudden movement startled Robin, making her tremble. The wings behind her ears stiffened and stood straight out in shock. Her mind had been so preoccupied with figuring out why she couldn't leave this place and the strange glances from passersby that she hadn't noticed the billboard until it suddenly leaped into action.
"Whew..." Robin patted her chest, exhaling in relief. She quickly realized that running billboards were a common sight in Penacony. Ignoring the sign's sales pitch, she continued onward.
Just as she crossed the street in front of Golden Hour Plaza, she heard a sharp series of honks. Turning around, she watched the billboard that had been chasing her moments before being sent flying with a resounding thud!
The flat vehicle showed no intention of stopping, speeding away from the scene of the accident like a hit-and-run driver. It vanished from Robin's sight in moments, leaving only the mangled billboard twitching intermittently on the ground, a grim testament to its lingering existence.
Robin stared in silence. "...I vaguely remember getting an achievement for doing something like this in a game."
With no time to mourn the unfortunate billboard, Robin pressed on. While she could scour entire game maps for treasure chests in just fifteen or twenty minutes, the real Golden Hour was far larger. She deliberately avoided main roads, choosing instead to explore more secluded paths.
As she passed a particular street, a very familiar song suddenly blared from a roadside loudspeaker, its melody echoing in her ears:
"Mend your pace, sway to the beat"
"Hands up, embrace who you wanna be"
"We're reaching heights unseen"
"Oh-woah-oh"
The voice and lyrics were deeply familiar. It was her own voice, singing a song she had heard countless times: "Sway to My Beat," the song Robin sings when activating her ultimate in the HSR game. Silently, she slowed her pace.
For some reason, a bizarre thought suddenly struck Robin: Wasn't I planning to hold another concert and recreate all the songs from the album as the grand finale?
Now, she wouldn't have to painstakingly transcribe the songs from her memory. She could simply copy them live on the spot.
But... wasn't that even stranger? The Martyr's ability was supposed to weave beautiful and plausible illusions based on others' past memories, yet this clearly wasn't one of Robin's own.
The most direct evidence was that she had no detailed knowledge of Penacony's geography, nor did she know the exact lyrics of the song. Yet these things, which had never existed in her memories, were now unfolding before her.
"Could the Martyr's ability automatically fill in the gaps in the Illusionary Realm, automatically fixing glitches and bugs?" Robin wondered. The unfamiliar path ahead, one she hadn't traversed in the game, might be explained by this. After all, she had no way of knowing if the real Penacony looked like this.
But Robin knew the song "Sway to My Beat" intimately. Though she couldn't recall the exact lyrics, she had listened to the original countless times. She was certain—this was absolutely that song!
Surely the Martyr's ability can't just fix bugs and casually compose an identical song for me?
As Robin pondered, her slowed pace must have given them time to catch up. Footsteps echoed behind her. Turning around, she quickly saw several dark-skinned individuals wearing sunglasses, their arms marked with numerous scars.
"It really is Robin! But what's she doing here?"
"Excuse me, Miss Robin, we apologize, but we must ask you to come with us."
The figures advanced steadily, surrounding Robin as they spoke. She instantly recognized them: members of the Bloodhound Family—Penacony's police force.
It seemed that shortly after Robin appeared in Golden Hour Plaza, passersby recognized her and notified the Bloodhound Family, effectively reporting her to the authorities.
But Robin hadn't committed any crimes. She had only just arrived. Why would she be wanted? The warrant must be for Robin, not her.
But wasn't Robin a celebrity in Penacony? How could she possibly be a fugitive?
Then, Robin suddenly remembered a plot point from HSR: appearing in public during a certain story arc would indeed trigger a manhunt.
It was the dream sequence where Dan Heng used the Jade Abacus, the Xianzhou fleet intervened, and Jing Yuan defeated Sunday.
Sunday had been arrested, and Robin had been implicated as an accomplice. They should both be awaiting trial. Yet here she was, suddenly appearing in the plaza. It would be strange if no one reported her.
In conclusion, the Penacony Robin found herself in wasn't the real one, but rather the dream world of the "Seven-Day Rest," created by Sunday using the power of Order.