Figuring that since there isn't much to do in the group chat and BB is sulking, I might as well head back to the main hall of the train.
Coming up to the bar I see the bartender robot, Shush, and with no one else around I feel like I need a drink. For the record, I have never been drunk—although I've tried alcohol, it has always tasted poorly to me, so I never had an interest towards it.
Now? Now I feel like I need something. Maybe alcohol, maybe not. First I'll try to drown out my thoughts with something else. If not, then... well, I'll cross that bridge when I get there.
"Surprise me with a drink that isn't alcoholic," I tell Shush, settling onto a barstool.
The robot nods, its mechanical hands moving with surprising grace as it begins mixing. I watch, somewhat hypnotized by the process, as liquids blend and shift.
A moment later my drink is served. It arrives in a tall, clear glass, with a sliced piece of lime stuck onto the rim. Lime zest sits atop what I can only assume is foam. The drink itself is a strong purple with slight waves of what seems like blue swirling in the glass. Logically the colors should have mixed, yet they haven't.
Pretty. Peaceful, even.
While I'm examining the glass, I see a shimmer of red—a red jellyfish swimming in my drink.
I blink.
It's gone.
I mean, I knew that "March" wouldn't leave me alone, but damn. Is she trying to get rid of me by giving me a heart attack?
Before I can dwell on it further, I hear footsteps. Himeko sits down beside me, and suddenly my thoughts scatter like leaves in wind.
I don't know what to say. My thoughts go dry, because I have never sat beside someone so beautiful.
Her red, luscious hair cascading down her back. A soft smile playing on her lips. Her eyes with that golden sunset hue. Her hourglass, practically sculpted figure. Her white dress defining every curve perfectly—the shoulders, hips, thighs—all as if a painting came to life.
I blink, shaking myself out of the daze, and hear her speak.
"Sane, it's nice to see you up and about, no longer in the bedridden condition you were in barely a few days ago."
I nod, a smile pulling at my lips. Grateful she cares. That they care. My shoulders drop, my muscles losing tension, a weight lifting off me that I didn't realize I'd been carrying. I hadn't been able to relax yet—not truly. My world had changed, but now I have certainty that even in this new world, I am not alone.
"Thanks, Himeko." I turn my eyes to my drink, lifting it. "It's... nice. Being here."
She hums in acknowledgment, ordering something from Shush—coffee, naturally. For a moment we sit in comfortable silence.
"How are you adjusting?" she asks gently. "I know this must all be overwhelming. Waking up on a space station under attack, getting caught up in our problems, nearly dying fighting the Doomsmaker Beast..."
"Doomsday Beast," I correct automatically, then wince. "Sorry. I mean—it's been... a lot. But honestly? Could be worse. At least I'm not alone."
Her expression softens. "You're not. The Express is your home now, for as long as you need it."
Something in my chest loosens at that. Home. The word feels foreign and warm all at once.
"I appreciate that. Really." I take a sip of my drink.
So perfectly relaxing. It's nice. I can just—
The scene shifts.
As if I fell out of the Astral Express, I am now suspended in darkness. All I can see is black—an infinite void stretching in every direction.
My head spins around, searching, and then behind me I see "March." Two red jellyfish float around her, pulsing with an otherworldly glow. She turns, and I see her dress is black, her eyes red. Blood red.
I feel a chill run down my spine.
Honestly, I'm a little surprised. There were many moments more convenient for her to show up—ones where I was alone. Yet now, only now, does she confront me. This baffles me, and I'm stuck wondering about her choice of timing.
She speaks, her voice echoing in the void: "An Emanator of Remembrance. And to think you have a physical body—although that is likely because of the Fool. But he doesn't matter. You do."
She takes a step closer, the jellyfish drifting alongside her.
"You, even while being Fuli's Emanator, have a physical form and seem to be uninterested in collecting memories."
She pauses, studying me with those crimson eyes.
"It is incredibly unusual. But that isn't the weirdest part. The weirdest part is that you, while being an Emanator, don't actually seek memories. Nor do you have any intent to harm March. And lastly, the weirdest of all—I can see recognition in your eyes. You know who I am. How?"
She stops about a meter from me, tilting her head.
"How is it that you recognize me?"
I swallow. My mind races. Do I lie? Deflect? But something tells me that wouldn't work with her.
"I—I uh. Just—" I exhale sharply. "You know what? Sure. Why not. Let me show you a few of my memories. I'll show you why. Hopefully make you feel a little... understanding. In advance."
I open up my thoughts, focusing on the time I spent playing HSR's Amphoreus patch—from start to finish. The story. The reveals. March's true nature. Evernight's purpose. The confrontation. The resolution.
Evernight watches, silent and still, as the memories play out before her like a film.
As the memories finish, silence prevails.
And then... she laughs.
Not a villainous laugh. Not a crazed cackle. But a laugh of genuine amusement, even innocence. Surprising, to say the least. Even she herself widens her eyes a moment later, realizing she wasn't faking it.
"I see," Evernight speaks, her voice softer now but still carrying intensity. "A game. Our lives shown as but a game. How ironic."
She circles me slowly, the jellyfish following.
"And you're just a game-addicted idiot who happened to stumble into a cosmic mess." She pauses. "Tell me—this game. From it you know of Fuli's plan? The real plan, not the public philosophy."
The void seems to grow colder.
"And you?" she asks quietly. "You serve this Aeon. You are his Emanator. WILL YOU FOLLOW THIS PLAN?"
"I don't want to serve that plan," I say firmly. "I'm an Emanator who opposes his Aeon's goal. I didn't ask for this power. I don't agree with eternal loops. Things should be allowed to end. Naturally. Not be trapped forever in someone's perfect memory archive."
Evernight stops circling. She stares at me for a long moment.
"You're a traitor to your patron," she says slowly. "How... interesting."
She steps closer, and I resist the urge to step back.
"Very well. I'll be nice. I won't attack you. For now." Her voice drops to something almost gentle. "But understand this: Protect March's happiness. Don't you dare collect memories for Fuli's archive. Don't become his puppet."
The jellyfish pulse brighter.
"I'll be watching. Every reflection. Every shadow. Every moment you think you're alone." Her eyes narrow. "One wrong move, and you won't survive another day."
Then, surprisingly, her expression shifts—something almost curious crosses her face.
"Though... if you truly oppose the Garden, if you really mean to let things end naturally..." She tilts her head. "Perhaps we're not enemies. Perhaps you're the first Emanator of Remembrance who understands what I'm fighting for."
She smiles—small, sad, but genuine.
"Time will tell, Sane Tempest. Time will tell."
The void begins to fade.
"Oh, and one more thing—"
[Meanwhile - March's Room]
March 7th sits on her bed, surrounded by photographs. Her collection has grown significantly since joining the Express—snapshots of planets, crew members, silly moments, beautiful vistas.
But something feels... off.
She picks up a photo of the observation deck. It's a good shot—stars streaking past, Dan Heng visible in the background reading. But she doesn't remember taking it.
"Weird," she mutters, setting it aside.
She picks up another. The parlor car, empty except for a coffee cup on the table. Again, no memory of taking it.
March frowns. She's usually pretty good about remembering her photos. It's kind of her thing.
She glances at her camera, checking the timestamp. Three-forty-seven PM. She took that photo at... three-forty-nine PM? But she's been in her room since three-thirty.
Hasn't she?
March tries to remember the last twenty minutes. She came back from... somewhere. She was doing... something. And then she was here, looking at photos.
The details are fuzzy. Slippery.
She shivers suddenly. When did it get so cold?
The light in her room flickers—just for a second. March looks up at the ceiling, confused. The Express doesn't usually have electrical problems.
When she looks back down at her photos, one of them has changed position. She could've sworn it was on her left, but now it's on her right.
Did she move it?
She must have.
March shakes her head, laughing at herself. "I'm being weird. Too much time staring at photos."
She stands, stretching, and catches her reflection in the mirror mounted on her wall.
For just a split second—so brief she almost misses it—her reflection doesn't move with her.
March freezes.
She steps closer to the mirror, staring at her own face. Cotton-candy hair. Blue-pink eyes. Same as always.
Nothing wrong.
Nothing different.
But a sudden, urgent feeling grips her chest. Something is wrong. Not with her—with someone else. Someone on the Express.
She needs to check on... who?
Sane. The new guy. The one who almost died.
Why does she feel like he's in trouble?
March doesn't question it. She grabs her jacket and heads for the door.
Behind her, after she leaves, the mirror reflects an empty room.
And in that reflection, two red jellyfish swim past where March had been standing.
[Back to Sane]
Intensive shaking
"Sane! Sane! Wake up! Are you alright?! Why did you pass out so suddenly?!"
I jolt awake, gasping, my mind scrambling to reorient. Darkness. Evernight. March. Threat. Warning. Test.
The first thing I see are a pair of worried golden sunset eyes, far too close to my face.
"Oh—uh, Himeko." My voice comes out rough. "Sorry for worrying you. I just got so sleepy after the drink that I collapsed."
I punctuate this with what I hope is a convincing yawn.
Himeko pulls back slightly, hands still on my shoulders, relief washing over her features before concern settles back in.
"After your drink?" She glances at the glass, still mostly full on the bar. "What drink did you get?"
Shush interrupts my answer, its mechanical voice perfectly neutral: "Miss, he asked for a surprise drink, and due to how weary he seemed, I served him a 'Dream of Peace' cocktail. Although it doesn't directly put one to sleep, it is very relaxing. And along with your presence, Miss Himeko, it seems that the past months' events simply 'crashed down' and he was knocked out."
I blink. Past months? Try past couple weeks. But I don't correct the robot.
"Wait, wait, wait." I sit up fully, something clicking in my brain. "Sorry, but didn't I specify a non-alcoholic drink?"
Shush turns its head toward me with an almost apologetic tilt. "Yes. But there are no such restrictions on a 'surprise' drink, so I ignored the second request in favour of the first."
Oh.
Oh no.
I touched alcohol to my lips. Not much—barely a sip—but enough.
+5 to all stats except INT (-1 INT). Bear Strength active.
I can feel it. That strange warmth spreading through my body, sharpening my senses, making everything feel slightly more vibrant. My muscles feel strong—too strong. My thoughts are buzzing but also slightly fuzzy at the edges.
I'm not drunk. But I'm definitely affected.
This is bad.
This is very bad.
Did that really just happen? Did I actually meet Evernight? Was that real or some kind of hallucination from the drink?
No. It was real. I know it was real. The way she looked at me. The threat. The test.
Protect March's happiness.
I glance at Himeko, who's studying me with those perceptive golden eyes, and I realize I need to act normal. Right now. Immediately.
"Sorry," I say, perhaps too quickly. "I'm fine. Really. Just... the drink was really relaxing and I guess I needed the rest more than I thought. Sorry."
Himeko's brow furrows. "You were unconscious for almost five minutes, Sane. I was about to call Welt."
Five minutes?! It felt like longer. Or maybe shorter? Time in the void was hard to gauge.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you. I feel fine now, actually." I try to stand, and my hand grips the edge of the bar for support.
The metal crunches under my fingers.
We both stare at the distinct hand print-shaped dent I've left in the counter-top.
"...Sorry," I say weakly. "I don't know my own strength sometimes. Been working out. Sorry."
Himeko's expression shifts from concerned to deeply suspicious. "Sane—"
The parlor car door bursts open.
"I heard there was—oh! Sane!" March rushes in, slightly out of breath, eyes wide with worry. "Are you okay?! I felt like something was wrong!"
Every muscle in my body tenses.
Is that March?
Or is that Evernight wearing March's face?
How do I tell? Her eyes are the normal cotton-candy blue-pink. No red. No jellyfish. She looks genuinely concerned, her body language open and worried.
But Evernight could fake that. Couldn't she?
Well, well, well~
I nearly jump out of my skin as B.B.'s voice suddenly returns to my mind, dripping with amusement.
Senpai had a little MEETING with an eldritch entity and didn't invite me? I'm wounded! Truly, deeply wounded!
Not now, B.B. Please, not now.
Oh, I'm sorry, she continues, her tone saccharine. Am I interrupting? Should I come back when you're done juggling your harem of concerned women?
I bite down on a response, keeping my face as neutral as possible while both Himeko and March stare at me with worry.
"Sorry," I say automatically. "I'm fine, really. Just... tired. Sorry."
March steps closer, her concern palpable. "You don't look fine. You're sweating."
Am I? I touch my forehead. She's right. Cold sweat.
"I think maybe I should walk you back to your room," March suggests, reaching out.
Every instinct screams at me not to be alone with her. But refusing would look suspicious. More suspicious than I already look.
"That's a good idea," Himeko says firmly, standing. "I'll come with you. I want to make sure you actually make it to bed and don't collapse in a hallway somewhere."
Both of them. Together. Watching me.
One might be an ancient cosmic entity testing me. One definitely suspects something is very wrong.
And B.B. is laughing in my head.
This is GOLD. Pure gold. I should be recording this.
"Sorry, you really don't have to—sorry—I can make it on my own—sorry—"
"You've said 'sorry' six times in thirty seconds," Himeko observes dryly.
March giggles—and that sound, light and genuine, makes me freeze. Because I can't tell if it's her or if Evernight is genuinely amused by my suffering.
Oh, this is delicious, B.B. purrs. You have no idea which one is which, do you?
I stand, carefully this time, trying not to accidentally crush anything else with my temporarily boosted strength. The alcohol buzz is making my head fuzzy, my thoughts slightly disconnected.
"Let's just... go. Please. Sorry."
March loops her arm through mine—I flinch but catch myself—and Himeko takes position on my other side. They guide me toward the exit like I'm made of glass.
Behind us, Shush calls out: "Please enjoy the rest of your evening, and thank you for your patronage!"
As we walk through the corridor, I become acutely aware of how cold it's getting. My breath doesn't mist—not quite—but there's definitely a chill in the air that wasn't there before.
March shivers. "Is it just me, or did it get cold?"
My heart stops.
She noticed.
Does that mean she's herself? Or is Evernight pretending to notice her own presence?
You're overthinking this, B.B. observes. Though watching you spiral is extremely entertaining.
"Sorry," I say reflexively. "Might be me. I run cold sometimes. Sorry."
That's not even remotely true, but it's all I can think of.
Himeko gives me a look that clearly says she's not buying any of this.
We reach my passenger car—the empty one Asta gifted me. The door slides open, revealing the sparse, barely-furnished space.
"Well," I say, perhaps too brightly. "Here we are. Thanks for the escort. I'll just... rest now. Sorry for the trouble."
"Are you sure you're alright?" March asks, genuine worry in her voice. "You seem really out of it."
"Just tired. Really. Sorry." I'm backing toward the bed now, trying to create distance.
Himeko crosses her arms. "Sane, if something is wrong—if you're sick or injured or—"
"I'm fine!" I say, too forcefully. "Sorry. I mean... I'm fine. Thank you both. Really. I just need sleep. Sorry."
They exchange a glance—that universal look of two people who are absolutely not convinced but also don't know how to push further without being rude.
"Alright," Himeko says slowly. "But if you need anything—anything—you call one of us immediately. Understood?"
"Understood. Sorry."
March gives me one last worried look before Himeko gently guides her toward the door.
As they're leaving, March glances back. For just a moment, I swear I see something in her eyes—a flicker of red, there and gone.
But maybe I imagined it.
Maybe.
The door slides shut.
I'm alone.
I stand there, in the middle of my empty cart, breathing heavily, muscles trembling from the sustained stress and the alcohol still in my system.
So~ B.B. materializes in my vision, sitting on my bed with her legs crossed, grinning like the cat that got the canary. That was fun! Want to tell me what ACTUALLY happened? Because I got radio silence for a good chunk of that.
I stare at her. Then at the door. Then back at her.
And suddenly—inexplicably—I start laughing.
It's not a happy laugh. It's the laugh of someone who's just realized how absolutely absurd their life has become.
"I met an eldritch entity," I say between laughs. "She threatened to kill me if I mess with March. I have no idea if March is actually March or if she's being puppeted. Himeko definitely thinks something's wrong. I accidentally crushed a metal bar with my hand. And you—" I point at her, still laughing. "—you vanished because I kicked your ass and now you're back for petty revenge."
B.B.'s grin widens. Accurate summary! Though you forgot the part where you looked like you were about to have a panic attack while sandwiched between two beautiful women.
"That too," I agree, the laughter dying down into exhausted giggles. "That too. Sorry."
I flop backward onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.
B.B. leans over me, her face upside-down in my vision. So. Evernight, huh? She's as terrifying as advertised?
"Worse. Because she might actually be reasonable." I close my eyes. "Which somehow makes it scarier."
Mm. Well, look at the bright side, Senpai~
"What bright side?"
At least your life isn't boring!
Despite everything—the threats, the confusion, the absolute chaos of the past hour—I find myself smiling.
"Yeah," I mutter. "At least there's that. Sorry."
B.B. pokes my forehead. You're apologizing to the ceiling now.
"Habit. Sorry."
Hopeless, she declares, but there's fondness in her voice.
I let the exhaustion finally take me, B.B.'s presence a familiar comfort in my mind, and for just a moment, I let myself stop worrying about cosmic entities and tests and which March is the real March.
Tomorrow. I'll figure it out tomorrow.
For now, I'm just... tired.
------------------------------------------------------
Just leave a comment here on what would Aha would think of during Jarilo-VI to mess with the crew as currently the mc is one of it's favourites to watch(read)