[I have seen hell.]
The land beneath her feet was made entirely of severed limbs and shattered remains.
Fragments of various types of armor were embedded among them—as if corpses and machinery had long since become one.
[I have seen hell.]
She walked forward across this macabre terrain, leaving a trail of broken bodies behind her. She never paused, never looked back.
At last, something in the distance caught her eye. She finally stopped.
[I have seen... the hell I will one day reach.]
She raised her head and looked ahead. There, countless twisted bodies were entangled, tangled in such a way that they formed a towering, grotesque mountain—an amalgam that refused to come apart.
But that wasn't the most disturbing part.
As she stepped toward the grotesque mound, every single head embedded within it suddenly opened its eyes!
Thousands of glowing firefly-like eyes locked onto her.
The abrupt shift in the atmosphere sent a chill down the spine—but she didn't flinch. She stood unmoving before the mountain of corpses, as if she'd seen this scene many times before.
All those flickering eyes focused on her, conveying something unspoken, some emotion beyond words.
Standing alone in front of them all, she murmured softly:
"Even after thousands of years of ruin, the steel factories never stopped churning us out."
"And we—the newborn generation—are still surrounded by lies. Still deceived."
"Still offering everything we have... to an empire that no longer exists. To a queen who never was."
One piece of ruined armor after another shot out from the earth, assembling onto her body.
Veins of glowing red, like pulsing arteries, spread across the surface of the plates.
The silver armor took on a pale crimson hue. Her once emerald-green faceplate now glowed with an ominous red light.
BOOM!
A red lightning bolt split the sky.
Then came a torrential rain of blood, splattering across the battlefield, dyeing the armor in crimson.
"It ends here. These chains will be broken—by me, the revenant returned from hell."
"And our people... will finally walk toward a new future."
"I am the Wraith of Glamoth, and soon... the first leader of a race born among the stars!"
"My name is—"
---
"Haaah~"
Hoshigaki Sora lounged on a plush sofa, yawning as he stared out into the boundless stretch of space.
"How strange," Robin said, seated beside him with a hint of curiosity. "Weren't you excited the first time you saw space?"
Sora gave her a sideways look. "It's like eating bread. The first few bites are nice—you notice the texture, the flavor..."
Robin tilted her head slightly, not quite following the analogy.
"But now," Sora said, his tone heavy, "let me ask you something, Robin…"
He turned toward her, his gaze solemn, as if he were about to unlock the secrets of the universe.
"Do you remember how many slices of bread you've eaten in your life?"
Yes—this was the galaxy now. The stars outside never changed, suspended forever in the abyss. The scenery remained static, unmoving. Only when passing near a star system did something new spark Sora's interest.
The rest of the time felt like eating a cake you'd had a hundred times. Not for joy—just for sustenance.
"Hm… Bread, huh? I do remember," Robin replied seriously. "Probably more than thirty slices."
"Because, you see," she continued, "bread always leaves behind a mess of crumbs. And I like the crumbs best. I always make sure to eat every last one... so I take a long time."
The memory brought a faint smile to her lips.
Spending half an hour on one slice—of course she'd remember.
Sora stared at her in disbelief. Who the hell actually counts their bread?
Is this what it meant to be a galactic idol?
The moment passed. Robin caught on to the meaning behind Sora's words.
"That's interstellar travel for you. Luckily, we're almost at our destination."
Sora let out a soft sigh, regret bubbling in his chest.
Why... why did I ever stop at that roadside lotto booth?
...
A few days earlier.
Sora was wandering through Promia—a peaceful planet known for its hospitality.
Thanks to Anna's influence, he had free rein to go wherever he liked. So naturally, he spent his days bouncing between scenic spots and food streets.
And then he encountered the very thing that would land him here, adrift in space:
"Come one, come all! The hottest event hosted by the Interastral Peace Corporation—the Galactic Lotto Grand Prix—is now live!"
The name hit him like a thunderbolt.
Galactic Lotto!
"We're offering a huge reward! We're looking for the KING of the Galactic Lotto! If luck is on your side, you could win an all-expenses-paid alien vacation!"
If he could go back in time, Sora would slap his past self across the face.
Why the hell did you stop there? Why did you mess with it?
You could've been living it up on Promia, basking in luxury.
But no.
Sora stepped up—for the glory of the Galactic Lotto! For science! For luck!
He signed a mountain of contracts. Staff nearby gave him weird looks. But he persisted.
And then—boom.
He won. First prize. All-expenses-paid random star system trip.
Wait, wait, wait.
My powers are random... and now even my lotto win is random?
But then he thought about it.
Yeah. That makes sense. Feels just like my luck.
He was the KING of the Galactic Lotto, after all.
Before he could even process it, staff surrounded him.
"Congratulations, sir! You've won our grand prize—'Random Star System Vacation for Two!' Please prepare to depart in three days."
Sora wanted to decline, of course. He'd just gotten comfortable. Who wanted to leave?
Then came the contracts—pages upon pages of terms he'd signed earlier.
"Sir, if you don't comply, we may have to involve our legal department~"
He tried to call in favors. Surely his connections would get him out of this.
In Promia, even messengers had to bow to him.
But fate had other plans.
He went home. Took a nap.
And woke up on a luxury spaceship, confused as hell.
Sitting across from him?
Robin.
And the ship? Already ten light-years away from Promia.
A fully automated luxury model. All it required was voice input. The destination had already been locked in.
When he tried to change course?
"Insufficient clearance."
...
Back to the present.
Sora sighed again.
Their destination was now less than twenty light-years away. Just a few more days.
"But I don't even know where I'm going. How am I supposed to be excited about this trip?"
Regret. Just pure, unfiltered regret.
Why did I ever play that dumb lotto game?
Worst of all, they actually honored the prize! What kind of sketchy lottery doesn't have rigged odds?
He slumped against the cushions, completely drained.
Robin checked the time. "Looks like it's almost lunchtime. I'll go grab it."
"Do me a favor, get mine too."
"Sure."
She left the room. Once out of earshot, she opened her terminal.
On the other end—Anna.
"He hasn't figured it out yet, has he?"
"No... but we've already lost a lot of time en route. The ship's not fast enough. If we delay any longer, he might notice."
Robin checked the navigation screen.
The destination was highlighted, unmistakable.
Zieltworth.
"I see." Anna nodded. "There's a fix for that."
"The Interastral Peace Corporation just unveiled a new tourism-class starcruiser. Runs on the same tracks as the Pathstrider trains—nearly a tenth of their speed."
"Looks like it's time to make a purchase."
Robin hesitated. "But... that ship's not cheap, is it?"
Luxury models like that cost a fortune—even she would need to save up just to afford a down payment.
"It's fine," Anna said calmly. "If it makes the trip more comfortable for him, what's a few thousand credit points?"
Back in her true identity, Anna had money to burn. She didn't even blink at the expense.
"I've already booked the highest-tier medical services at the destination. Let him enjoy the planet a bit before heading in."
Robin fell silent for a moment before asking what she truly wanted to know:
"Why not just tell him?"
"Because he'd never agree to it. The diagnosis is in plain text, and he still insists he's fine."
To Anna, that was clearly denial.
She'd been through enough with Sora to know: behind the easygoing smile was a man dead serious about everything.
If he said he wouldn't go—he meant it.
Which meant this was the only way.
"Anyway, the route is almost finished. You probably won't hit any turbulence, so you two can just—"
Before Anna could finish, the entire ship lurched to a halt!
Emergency brakes flared to life.
For a long, long second, no one spoke.
Staring at each other through the terminal, both women were utterly silent.
"I... will never jinx anything ever again," Anna muttered.