"This is Dreamflux Reef."
Gallagher's voice cut through the stillness as they pushed through a final layer of mist. The world beyond resolved itself into something both familiar and alien, a twisted reflection of everything they'd seen before.
"So this is Dreamflux Reef?" Stelle tilted her head, studying their surroundings with visible curiosity. "It doesn't look all that different from, "
She stopped mid-sentence, her expression shifting from casual interest to genuine alarm.
"There's no trash can in Dreamflux Reef!" Her voice rose in barely suppressed panic. "This place is too terrifying!"
Markh and the others couldn't help but press their hands to their foreheads in exasperation.
Only Victor nodded with complete seriousness. "You're absolutely right. That is genuinely concerning."
His little Stelle loved trash cans more than anything. For her, the absence of such treasures probably felt like the apocalypse itself.
"Once you become a shareholder," Victor said, his tone thoughtful, "I'll become a dream architect. Then I'll place trash cans every meter throughout Dreamflux Reef, golden ones, at that."
Stelle's eyes lit up like stars. "That sounds perfect!"
Markh couldn't take it anymore. "Hey! Don't indulge her so seriously about something like this! If you keep spoiling her this way, you're only going to make things worse!"
Victor pulled Stelle into his arms and ruffled her hair affectionately. "I can't help it, she's my beloved disciple. Who else should I dote on if not her? Right, Stelle?"
"My master is the best!"
"Enough, you two," Himeko interrupted with an amused smile. "Look up at the sky."
Everyone followed her gesture, their gazes lifting upward.
What they saw defied all logic and reason. Suspended above them, inverted like some impossible reflection, hung the Golden Hour itself, gleaming and magnificent in its upside-down glory. They could even make out Clock Studios Square in perfect detail.
Markh's jaw dropped. "What the, ? You're telling me Dreamflux Reef has been right above our heads this entire time? How did we never notice it before?"
Gallagher's expression carried the faint ghost of a smile. "Indeed. Dreamflux Reef does exist directly above the Golden Hour. But it's impossible for anyone to discover it under normal circumstances."
"Let me guess," Victor said. "Even though we can see the Golden Hour from here, if you tried looking up from the Golden Hour itself, Dreamflux Reef would be completely invisible."
Gallagher turned to regard him with open curiosity. "Precisely. And even if someone attempted to fly upward from the Golden Hour, they would never reach Dreamflux Reef, am I correct?"
"Exactly right."
Gallagher's interest visibly sharpened. "I have to admit, I'm impressed. You, an outsider, seem to know an awful lot about this place. You even seem to know my true identity. How did you manage that?"
"That's our little secret."
"Fair enough." Gallagher shrugged, apparently accepting this non-answer. "Well then, since I've brought you here as requested, I should be on my way."
Without another word, he turned and walked back toward the mist. The moment he passed through that veil of fog, his figure vanished as completely as if he'd never existed.
Everyone's attention shifted back to Victor.
Himeko spoke first. "Where should we go next?"
Victor considered for a moment before responding. "We'll split into two groups. Himeko, Welt, you two search for Robin. She should be somewhere nearby, and finding her shouldn't be too difficult."
"Meanwhile, I'll take Stelle and Markh to retrieve the Watchmaker's legacy. After we've both completed our objectives, we'll meet back here."
Everyone nodded their agreement, and the two groups separated to pursue their respective goals.
Several minutes later, Victor led Stelle and Markh to Dreamflux Reef's most prominent platform, an elevated stage that commanded attention despite its simplicity.
There, seated peacefully in a wheelchair, was the body of an elderly man. He held a dream bubble cradled gently in his hands, and though clearly deceased, his weathered face carried an expression of profound serenity.
"Is this him?" Markh asked softly, approaching with visible reverence. "One of the former crew members of the Astral Express?"
"Yes," Victor confirmed, his voice equally quiet. "This is Mikhail Char Legwork, once known as Misha to his companions. He was a former mechanic aboard the Star Train."
Victor bent down and retrieved a top hat that had fallen near the wheelchair. Without hesitation, he placed it gently on Stelle's head.
Stelle adjusted the hat slightly, examining it with interest. "Hey, this actually looks pretty nice. I like it!"
"Does it suit me?" she asked, turning to show Victor.
He nodded with genuine warmth. "It suits you perfectly. How does it feel to wear it?"
Stelle closed her eyes, seeming to search for something within herself. After a long moment, she opened them again and spoke with complete sincerity, "Mmm... it really does feel different somehow."
Victor raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. Had she actually gained Xipe's attention so quickly?
Markh leaned in, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Different how? What kind of feeling?"
Stelle remained silent for several seconds, clearly gathering her thoughts. Then her eyes snapped open with sudden certainty.
"I feel... like I've become smarter!"
Victor stared at her blankly. "..."
Markh's expression mirrored his own deadpan reaction.
Apparently, he'd been overthinking things. Stelle hadn't received any glance from the Aeon of Harmony at all, not yet, anyway.
But thinking about it logically, that made sense. If gaining an Aeon's attention were truly that simple, wouldn't every being in the universe become a Pathstrider? The favor of gods wasn't granted lightly.
Pushing those thoughts aside, Victor gestured toward the deceased Watchmaker. "Try touching the dream bubble in his hands. That's where the Watchmaker's legacy resides."
"Oh! Okay!" Stelle nodded obediently and reached out without hesitation.
The moment her fingers made contact, her consciousness was pulled inward, drawn into the bubble's depths.
What greeted her, however, was nothing.
Only darkness. Empty, absolute darkness with no hint of anything else.
"Why is there nothing here?" Stelle's confusion was evident even before she fully withdrew her consciousness. "Did I access the dream bubble incorrectly?"
"Let me try!" Markh volunteered immediately, extending her own hand toward the bubble.
She, too, found herself staring into complete emptiness.
"There's nothing inside at all," Markh said with obvious disappointment, pulling her hand back. "Are we sure this is actually the Watchmaker's legacy?"
Victor nodded calmly. "Yes. This is definitely the Watchmaker's legacy."
Markh crossed her arms, frustration coloring her voice. "Then what was the point of all this? We worked so hard to get here, and we end up with nothing?"
"That's because neither of you understands what the 'legacy' truly means."
Markh rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh great, here we go with the cryptic responses. Stop being such a Riddler and just tell us what it is already!"
"Yeah!" Stelle chimed in, nodding vigorously. "Riddler, get out of Pinocchio!"
Victor raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. If you want to understand the so-called legacy, you first need to understand what pioneering actually means."
"As pioneers yourselves, you should know this better than anyone, right?"
Both girls fell silent, their minds clearly working through the implications.
"The meaning of pioneering..." Markh murmured thoughtfully. "Isn't it about following the paths that our predecessors couldn't complete? Going further than they managed to go?"
Stelle's eyes suddenly widened with understanding. "Wait... does that mean..."
The two exchanged glances, and comprehension dawned simultaneously in both their expressions.
"I think we understand what the Watchmaker's legacy actually is," Stelle said slowly.
Markh nodded, placing her hands on her hips as she regarded Mikhail's peaceful form in the wheelchair. "So this old-timer wanted us to continue down the road he couldn't finish walking. Such a straightforward thing, and he had to make it so unnecessarily complicated."
She shook her head with affectionate exasperation. "He really was a true pioneer of our Express crew."
Stelle turned to face Victor. "Since you already knew all this, why didn't you just tell us from the beginning?"
Victor's smile was gentle. "Because I brought you here for two reasons. First, to see this old senior and pay your respects. Second, to take that hat with you, it's important."
"Important how?" Stelle asked, removing the top hat to examine it more closely.
"That hat once belonged to Misha, which is what his companions called Mikhail. It's also the hat of a legendary navigator from an age of cosmic exploration," Victor explained. "In the original timeline, you actually received a glance from the Aeon Xipe because of that very hat."
He paused, studying Stelle's expression. "Though judging by current circumstances, it seems the Aeon of Harmony isn't particularly interested in acknowledging you just yet."
Stelle lifted her nose slightly in feigned indifference. "Tsk. If THEY don't want to pay attention to me, that's fine. I don't really care about THEIR power anyway."
BOOM, !
The words had barely left her mouth when an invisible force descended upon Stelle with overwhelming presence.
The weight of divine attention pressed down on her consciousness like a physical thing.
"Wait, seriously?" Stelle's eyes went wide with shock. "This can't actually be such a ridiculous coincidence, can it?"
Victor and Markh stood frozen, equally stunned by what they'd just witnessed.
That had been Xipe's glance, there was no mistaking it.
Which meant that Stelle now possessed dual Paths. She walked both Destruction and Harmony.
The Aeon of Harmony had clearly done this intentionally. Had THEY perhaps been waiting for the perfect dramatic moment? Or had Stelle's casual dismissal somehow triggered THEIR interest?
Whatever the reason, the blessing had been granted.
Stelle now carried the attention of two Aeons, an achievement so rare that it bordered on mythical.