Sunny tapped the Space Anchor with the ease of long practice, and the familiar distortion rippled over his skin. A heartbeat later, the quiet hum of the Astral Express vanished, replaced with the sterile brightness and distant machinery of the Herta Space Station.
March stumbled slightly on arrival.
Sunny caught her shoulder without looking up from his phone.
He was already typing.
The hallway ahead was busy — researchers in white coats and scientists dressed like they were perpetually minutes from a meltdown drifted past, their chatter blending into a constant buzz. Sunny ignored all of them, thumbs moving at impossible speed.
March peered at the screen from the side.
"…Who are you even messaging? You better not be texting someone random while I'm literally right here."
Sunny grunted quietly.
"Seele."
March blinked.
"Oh! She's okay?"
He sighed.
"Alive, yes. Okay, debatable."
"…Veliona too?"
"They're back in the same body, it looks like. Almost thought they'd get two seperate ones permanently."
"That's good, at least! She must be really happy to hea—"
Sunny's face twisted in mild annoyance.
"She's asking too many questions."
March frowned.
"Like what?"
"Where I am. When I'll get back. If I'm injured. If I've eaten. What happened in the Nightmare. Where we are now. Whether I'm safe. Where we're heading next. If I'm sleeping enough. What hurts. Why I didn't answer faster. Why I didn't answer faster again. Where I am again."
March stared.
"…So just basic concern?"
Sunny scowled at the device as another notification popped up.
"If that's basic concern, than I don't want it."
March puffed out her cheeks.
"Did she ask about me?"
"Nope."
"…Huh."
They walked farther into the station.
Eventually, they turned the corner to an excruciatingly long-winded hall — where security personnel sometimes patrolled.
Today, only one young man stood guard.
Arlan.
Sunny slowed as the teen recognized them and straightened instantly, tension dissolving into awe.
"Miss March and M—Mister Sunless… I heard from Lady Asta, who heard from Madam Herta, who heard from… you, that you had challenged the Second Nightmare, so if you're both here, then…"
Sunny's attention was drawn to the furry creature next to Arlan's feet. The fluffy dog wagged its tail as it looked up at him with a an adorable and naive expression.
'Stupid mutt…'
Tearing his gaze away from a abominable creature, Sunny interrupted Arlan's rant. Once again, the kid seemed to have sparkles in his eyes, which was quite off-putting.
"We're looking for Herta."
Arlan nodded instantly, snapped out of his trance.
"Right. I'll escort you—"
"No need."
Sunny waved vaguely and walked off.
March hurried after him, throwing Arlan a quick apology over her shoulder.
Arlan waved after them, looking absurdly happy.
***
Thirteen dolls.
That was the amount of times that they have attempted, and subsequently failed, to get Herta's attention through her dolls.
"Leave a message. Herta will review your inquiry in the order it was received. Estimated wait time: four years and three—"
"Who the hell is going to wait that long?!"
Out of frustration, Sunny kicked the doll with all the might of an Ascended Monster. Not a scratch appeared as it harmlessly bounced off the wall — which was an impressive feat of durability, for both the doll and the wall.
Sunny frowned. He had wanted to get a new anchor in the Dream Realm as an escape method. Due to how Ascendance works, Masters were able to simply warp to the Dream Realm by pulling on their tether, allowing them to escape any situation as long as they are given a few moments. Of course, Nightmare Gates would disrupt that process, changing the region in the Dream Realm the Master would appear in to the one the Gates corresponding Seed had been.
Which was all nonsense that nobody needed to know, because nobody was stupid enough to retreat to the Dream Realm while near a Nightmare Gate.
…Right?
Either way, no Herta, no escape plan. As things were looking, they'd need to go to the Xianzhou unprepared—
The doll he had just kicked into the wall stood back up, boring holes into Sunny with its gaze. March blinked, before commenting:
"You know, these things are kind of creepy. They can see us, but aren't really… seeing us?"
Sunny shrugged, still considering if he was going to be getting a funeral or not if he died in a distant nation.
"It's best that we don't concern ourselves with the feeble attempts of an elderly woman who wants to remember her glory days by creating dolls after her child self."
Purple eyes blinked as he patted the doll's shoulders.
"Although I am not aware of her specific age, I am convinced that her true self must share a similar consistency to a raisin."
March furrowed her brow.
"Why are you talking like that?"
"…This is how I talk."
She shook her head in disbelief, her pink hair whipping along.
"You were speaking like a delinquent an hour ago."
Sunny averted his gaze.
"Are you mocking my intricate manners of speech, as varied and myriad as they were? Truly, I can only admit that this is the behavior a barbaric simpleton who is not aware of their place on the social ladder."
"Let's get back to how I share a similar consistency to a raisin, shall we?"
"Ah, of course… why, nothing could be as dubiously bold as to—"
Sunny froze, his grip on the doll's shoulders tightening a bit. Turning his head, he saw an unamused expression looking directly at him, practically piercing his soul.
He shut his eyes for a few moments, opened them, then brushed her wooden shoulders.
"Man, this thing is dusty. You should really get someone to clean your dolls for you."
March simply stared blankly at the doll.
Herta — remote, narcissistic, painfully unimpressed — studied them both.
"Oh. You survived. Still can't match even a fraction of my beauty."
Her voice carried not admiration, but disappointment.
"How unremarkable. Do you at least have something interesting to show me?"
Sunny revealed th most polite smile he could form.
"This humble fellow did share a brief conversation with a Daemon. If you believe such a minor thing could satisfy you, Madam Herta, then I shall be glad to regale my tale."
The doll raised a brow.
"Oh? I'll ask you about that later. Impressive boot-licking by the way. As a reward, not only will I not teleport you to a distant galaxy, I'll let you make whatever request you came here to ask of me."
Relaxing his tense muscles, he simply asked:
"We need to get anchored to a new Gateway. Can we use yours?"
Herta blinked, then scowled.
"Yes, I do have one lying around… but if I let you use it, I expect you to test the Simulated Universe more often. At the current rate, I won't get any useful data for a few decades."
Sunny pursed his lips.
"…Sure, but not right now. There's a bit of an emergency."
The doll shrugged, before narrowing her eyes.
"You've grown weaker. I'll drop you off in the wilderness first."
Sunny tilted his head, thinking for a bit before realizing she was referring to his Shadow Cores.
March was utterly confused.
"What are you two talking—"
Before she could complete her inquiry, Herta had grabbed them both.