Welt appeared in Golden Moment Plaza with Acheron at his side. The group turned toward them almost immediately.
Himeko and the others stepped forward to greet them.
"Are you Miss Acheron? Welcome. I'm Himeko, the pilot of the Astral Express." She said, extending her hand.
For a few moments, Acheron seemed unsettled.
"…Aren't you uneasy seeing me here? I expected a more… cautious, maybe even hostile, reception." She finally said.
Stelle gave her a thumbs-up.
"Relax. Don't overthink it. I hardly ever think, and things usually turn out fine."
"That's not true!" March protested.
"Welt already told us ahead of time that you'd be coming with him." Himeko added with a smile.
March stepped closer with a friendly grin.
"Don't worry about whatever Aventurine said. We trust Welt's judgment. If he vouches for you, then so do we." She smirked playfully as she nudged Aleph forward. "By the way, Aleph was the first to object to those accusations about you being 'Death.'"
Acheron tilted her head as she glanced at him.
"I see." Her expression didn't change, but for some reason Stelle got the impression she was slightly more at ease than before.
"Did you really have to say it like that, March?" Aleph muttered with an uncomfortable look.
March only shrugged, smiling.
Aleph tried to step closer to Acheron, but Stelle blocked his path with an inexplicable look. He stopped, puzzled.
"Listen. What we're facing now is far more complex than Belobog or the Xianzhou." Welt's gaze landed on Stelle and Aleph. "We must avoid violence unless it's absolutely unavoidable. There are too many factions involved here, and one wrong step could spell trouble."
Stelle leaned closer to Aleph.
"Why is he looking at us? Do you think Mr. Yang has finally recognized that I deserve to lead an adventure on my own, thanks to how responsible I am?"
"…And why are you asking me? I don't know either."
March sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead.
Welt raised his voice.
"We need to focus. What we face here is more complicated than Belobog or the Luofu. Aventurine…"
The seriousness in his tone was enough to silence everyone.
"…I suspect he might know the truth about Penacony. Maybe he tried to guide us toward it, to keep us united on one side. Or, in the worst case, maybe he just wants to use us as disposable pieces."
Stelle crossed her arms.
"Whatever the reason, justice can't be left half-done. Not after so many deaths."
Aleph nodded.
"I'm not going to just stand by while people pay the price for someone else's choices."
March stepped forward, folding her arms.
"Me too. This isn't just about us. If we look the other way, even more people in Penacony could end up caught in this mess."
Himeko smiled.
"Solving the mystery of the Watchmaker and exposing the truth will require information from the IPC. And you all know… exploration comes with risks. Retreating at the first wall has never been our way."
Welt looked at her approvingly, then turned to Acheron.
"And you? No matter what we decide, we can't force you to act according to our choices."
She didn't hesitate.
"I'll go with you."
March leapt up, at the same time as Aleph.
"Wild Acheron was caught!" March shouted.
While Acheron blinked in confusion, Himeko sighed and raised a hand to her forehead, muttering an apology.
"Yay~…" Stelle said flatly.
"Alright then…" Himeko chuckled. "Now we've got momentum and courage, but the tougher question remains—where do we start?"
Welt turned to Himeko, who nodded.
"If Aventurine set a trap for us, sooner or later he'll show the bait he wants to use to lure us in."
"It used to be so simple. My biggest problems were running with Dan Heng or my arrows missing their mark." March huffed nostalgically.
"Why do our vacations always end like this?" she muttered, a bit deflated.
Aleph patted her shoulder.
"Hey, how about this?" he suggested with a grin. "Once all this is over, what if we go shopping?"
"Are you serious?" March's eyes sparkled—it had been a long time since she'd had a chance to update her wardrobe. "You're not just saying that to cheer me up?"
Aleph raised a hand with a solemn face, as though swearing an oath.
"I swear on Pom-Pom's fluffy tail. In fact, I promise I'll carry the bags and later buy you dessert."
"Aleph, you're the best!"
March hugged him so tightly she nearly knocked him over. Aleph laughed, returning the hug. When Stelle tried to slip away discreetly, he grabbed her by the coat.
"And where do you think you're going?"
"Let me go! You've doomed us all! You don't know what it means to go shopping with March! Dan Heng still trembles just remembering the time we went with Asta and Arlan!" The desperate look she gave him was that of someone who had witnessed the worst horrors and lived to tell the tale. "It was a never-ending nightmare!"
Himeko raised her hand calmly.
"May I come along? I'm running low on coffee beans. It'd be a good chance to restock."
All four turned toward Welt—even Stelle, clearly hoping to drag him down with her.
Welt adjusted his glasses, thoughtful.
"I suppose it would be useful for me too. I need a spare pair of glasses. And maybe I can pick up a gift for Dan Heng and one for Pom-Pom."
March looked happier than ever.
"Group outing!"
Acheron stayed at a slight distance, watching the noisy scene in silence.
Aleph approached naturally and offered his hand.
"Coming with us?" He asked with a smile.
Acheron looked at him, and for an instant, Aleph's figure blurred into that of a shorter boy with chestnut hair and burning amber eyes—but the image quickly faded back to normal.
Before she even realized it, her hand had already taken Aleph's, with a familiarity that startled even her.
"Yes."
.....
The group was just about to leave when a voice boomed across the Golden Moment.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the most marvelous show ever created in the entire history of Penacony! Brought to you by the IPC, for all of you."
It was Aventurine.
"This grand event will take place at the Clock Studios theme park! Don't miss it!"
The broadcast cut off with a snap.
Himeko sighed.
"And there's the bait."
Welt adjusted his glasses, his expression turning more resolute.
"Then it's time to show the spirit of Trailblazers. Let's go."
March frowned.
"I don't like this at all… I feel like something bad is about to happen."
"You're exaggerating." Stelle patted her back. "You'll see, it won't be that bad."
Stelle, March, Himeko, and Aleph moved ahead while Welt and Acheron lingered behind.
She broke the silence.
"Why didn't you expose me to your companions? About my condition."
"You said it yourself—it's a long story. A very long one. And one that isn't mine to tell. Besides, I've already chosen to trust you." Welt walked calmly, hands clasped behind his back. "Even if my view on the matter is subjective, I believe the others would think the same."
Acheron glanced sideways at the group.
"They're kind. All of you."
"We try to be." Welt let out a soft chuckle.
She lowered her gaze and murmured.
"Then I'll give you something in return. If in the next encounter the odds turn against you, I'll step in to help… if what little strength I have is needed."
She was about to quicken her pace, but Welt's voice stopped her.
"There's something else that intrigues me. Why does Aleph trust you so much? And why do you also seem… gentler in his presence?"
Acheron's hand instinctively went to the sheath of her katana. Welt didn't flinch; he knew that gesture meant she was stirring up buried memories.
"…In the myriad of worlds scattered across the vast cosmos, it isn't unusual to meet people who resemble those we once knew. For whatever reason, sometimes it's not just a striking physical resemblance—they even walk similar paths in life. Perhaps that's what's happening between us."
Welt nodded, clearly intrigued by one thing.
"Who does Aleph remind you of?"
For an instant, Acheron's mind returned to that first encounter. The boy had looked at her with wide eyes, and one name had slipped from his lips in a murmur.
Mei.
Ah… Sorry, I mistook you for someone else.
The disappointment on his face when he realized she wasn't that person still lingered in her memory.
Acheron averted her gaze.
"A very dear friend from my past."
Welt asked nothing more. He simply inclined his head, and the two resumed walking.
In the distance, Aleph and March waved their arms, calling out between laughter.
"Come on, slowpokes! Move a little faster!"
...
After a few minutes, they reached the heart of the theme park, the Clock Studios.
"Where is everybody?" March muttered, puzzled.
Himeko frowned.
"A few hours ago, when we came here with Gallagher, the Hound Family had this place cordoned off. Now there's not a single trace of them."
Her tone grew firmer.
"Be careful. The enemy is prepared."
They followed the path to the open-air projection hall at the end of the corridor. Three giant screens awaited them. Suddenly, the lights went out; spotlights flicked on, tracing a path before them.
Aventurine's voice filled the air again.
"Welcome, my dear guests. I feared you might decline the invitation. You almost broke my heart."
The spotlights guided their steps until they stood before the screens.
"You're late…" Aventurine continued. "You nearly missed the show. And it seems you've brought along a very interesting guest."
"Enough games!" March shouted. "If you're here, show yourself!"
A laugh echoed from the speakers.
"Oh, I will, without a doubt… but first, how could I appear without giving a proper welcome to our guests of honor?"
The lights cut out again. When they returned, every spotlight was aimed directly at Aleph and Stelle.
"A round of applause for Mr. and Mrs. Stellaron!" Aventurine announced theatrically.
Aleph covered his face with one hand, exasperated.
"This is ridiculous…"
Stelle crossed her arms, scoffing.
"That's not your last name—much less mine."
March quickly pointed at her.
"You don't even have a last name!"
Stelle puffed out her chest proudly.
"Hmph, of course I do. My last name is Avesta."
Aleph looked at her in shock.
"That's my last name, not yours."
"What's yours is mine." Stelle tilted her chin up defiantly. "And what's mine is also mine."
March silently put a hand to her face.
Welt let out a sigh.
"…Do I need to remind everyone that this little show—and Aleph and Stelle's very identities—have absolutely nothing to do with the killer we're after?"
"Eh?" Aventurine's confused voice echoed over the speakers. Himeko's frown deepened; she could hear the amusement he wasn't even bothering to hide. "But how could they not be related? Don't you think it's suspicious that both of them were present at all three crime scenes?"
"Three?" March tilted her head in confusion.
"Tch." Aleph clicked his tongue, frost beginning to form in the air around him.
Aventurine's cheerful voice rang out again.
"Yes, three murders… After all, here you'll be treated to a magnificent, glorious death."
Aleph clenched his teeth, his frown sharp enough to pierce through the screen.
"Do you even understand what you're saying, Aventurine? Do you really think you'll survive this?"
A harsh laugh thundered from the speakers.
"Don't underestimate me. My Keystone may only be a fraction of Diamond's power, but it's still the power of Preservation. As long as I have it, I'll always find a way to survive."
His tone grew more fevered.
"With that same power, I'll detonate the two Stellarons burning inside you and your companion. And when Penacony explodes along with you, it'll be the most beautiful light show the cosmos has ever seen."
Acheron looked at him calmly.
"You're not fooling anyone. If you really had that power, you'd have already done it. You wouldn't waste your time with empty words."
Aventurine burst into laughter.
"Want to bet? Then let's bet. My victory will be absolute. I'll set Penacony's foundations ablaze to prove that Harmony's promise—that death does not exist in dreams—is nothing but a bedtime story for children."
"You wouldn't." Acheron stood firm, without a hint of doubt.
"Of course I would. In the end, it's just another gamble."
The screens vibrated.
A brief silence fell before he broke it himself.
"I came from the wastelands of Sigonia. Want to know my price? Sixty red copper coins. That's what my life was worth. Sold again and again, treated like an animal. Chained, beaten, humiliated… tortured. But not the burning sun, not the devouring sands, not my cruel masters could take my life away."
An uncomfortable silence fell over the group. Aventurine shattered it with mockery.
"They say sleep is rehearsal for death. You know what that means?"
No one answered. Aventurine supplied it himself.
"It means you're not ready. None of you. Every night you practice. Every sweet dream is just a placebo to cover up the end that waits for you and push you to keep living in the lie."
Aleph's rage built as Aventurine spoke. A vein throbbed across his forehead as he lunged at the central screen, with March and Stelle wrestling to hold him back.
"You son of—! I'll freeze your damn ass off, you worthless scum!"
Aventurine's laughter only swelled.
"It's useless to resist. The game has already begun. All the chips are on the table."
Stelle summoned her spear wrapped in flames.
March drew her bow, six-phase ice shaping into razor-sharp arrows.
Himeko opened her case with a stern gaze.
Welt gripped his staff firmly.
Acheron remained serene, one hand resting on the hilt of her katana.
Aleph, however, betrayed his loss of control—an outburst born of his unrestrained magic.
Whirlwinds slashed the air around him; the ground beneath his feet froze over in frost; ghostly green flames blazed, colliding with his own ice to create suffocating steam.
Crimson lightning ran across his skin like glowing veins.
Acheron eyed him sideways, curious.
She had witnessed impossible phenomena even in the strongest Andavias, but what surrounded the boy didn't quite fit.
For a human to radiate that much energy without tearing himself apart was exceedingly rare.
Even more so for one who wasn't an Emanator.
The main screen lit up.
Aventurine appeared, his face hidden beneath the brim of his hat.
A small die rolled across the ground, stopping near Aleph.
It only took a blink for it to be frozen, reduced to ashes, and finally crushed beneath his foot.
Aventurine's voice continued unfazed.
"I've come to bet."
A golden glow flared behind the screens.
"I've come to play."
The light spread toward the heavens.
"I've come to win."
He descended wrapped in that glow.
His suit had fused into stone-like armor, his face hidden by a black mask with a sinister aventurine visor gleaming in the dark.
"Glory to the Lord of Amber…"
His voice, distorted through the mask, echoed like a tomb's whisper.
"I left destiny in charge of spinning the wheel. With this wager—and my life as the stake—I am ready to be reborn on the edge of death."
A laugh vibrated through the speakers. His gaze locked onto Aleph, onto the chaos raging around him.
"Tell me, boy… are you ready for this game? Ready to see who laughs last?"
Giant dice fell from the sky.
March fired arrows to intercept them, but only managed to slow them down. A freezing blast erupted from Aleph, encasing the dice, and with a gust of wind he hurled them back at their master.
They crashed into another rain of dice, shattering into pieces.
Aventurine's laughter seeped through again.
"Do you know why people keep throwing money onto the table, even when they only lose?"
"I don't care about a single word spilling from your mouth, you deranged toy-looking freak!" Aleph roared.
"How cruel!" Aventurine replied, feigning wiping a tear. "And here I thought we were friends. I guess now it'll hurt less when I have to kill you. Isn't that right?"
....
A giant die came crashing down on Stelle.
She blocked it with her spear instead of destroying it, and the cube spun midair, triggering its effect. The explosion hit her full on; her body was left exposed to a rain of hundreds of dice and chips pouring down on her.
"Stelle!" March shouted.
Six-phase ice rose in a wall, cracking under the impact but holding back the worst of it.
"Get up!" She urged, helping Stelle back on her feet.
Aleph twisted his wrist, and a whirlwind surged from his palm. The dice lifted, swept up in the vortex. Aventurine laughed as he watched them fly back at him.
"Don't you get tired of this? The same trick, over and over…"
Aleph didn't answer. Aventurine raised his hand and sent fresh dice colliding into those flying back. The blast lit up the air, and then he realized it.
The wind was charged with electricity.
Red sparks crackled across the dice's surface, and when Aventurine tried to deflect them, the burst struck him violently.
Welt and Himeko seized the moment to flank him.
"Now!" Himeko surged forward.
Welt followed, pinning the enemy with the power of his staff.
On the ground, Stelle stirred again thanks to Aleph's healing touch and March's support. Her spear blazed with flames once more.
Aventurine took the assault head-on without retreating, his armor withstanding blows and fire alike. And still, he never stopped talking.
"Remember my question?" He said over the roar. "Why do people keep throwing money onto the table even when they're only losing?"
"Because they're idiots!" Stelle snapped.
March frowned, loosing another arrow.
"Now you're trying to sound philosophical?"
"No." Aventurine smiled beneath the mask.
"Because they have hope. And as long as there's even the tiniest sliver of hope, some fool will always try again. That's what makes a gamble so delicious!"
March's ice shards and Aleph's lightning struck from both sides. Welt locked him in the air with gravitational force, and every time he tried to evade, Himeko was there to cut him off with fire.
Stelle leapt in front, her blazing spear shining like a beacon. The clash against Aventurine rang out like thunder.
A stone fist smashed into March's ice barrier. She growled and reinforced the structure with another layer.
Welt's voice rang out.
"Your words are smoke. Hope isn't a convenient excuse to justify everything."
"Oh, but of course it is!" Aventurine shook his head like a preacher. "Hope is the most profitable lie in the cosmos. Strip people of everything, and they'll still smile, convinced the next play will save them. That—" his voice rose with manic delight, "that is the true essence of the game!"
Aleph spat on the ground.
"I'll shove that 'essence' straight where the sun doesn't shine, bastard."
"How rude." Aventurine feigned wiping away a tear under his mask. "And here I was, trying to give you all a show worth remembering…"
He watched their synchronized strikes, the flawless rhythm in which they covered one another.
Not a flicker of hesitation.
Not a tremor in their faces.
Far from planting fear or doubt, his words had failed to draw out anything.
A bitter sensation hit him.
He was supposed to be unforgettable.
He was supposed to dominate them from center stage.
But in their eyes, he was nothing more than another obstacle.
… To them, he was just another stepping stone in the endless expedition of nobodies, another rock in the Trailblazers' path.
The revelation pulled a bitter smile from him.
Laughter returned—this time tinged with melancholy.
"People can lose everything… children, husbands, wives, livelihood, even their own lives… and still gamble with a smile." His voice cracked for an instant. "So why not me? Why can't I feel that freedom?"
The sky blazed gold. A radiant dome began to spread, enclosing them all.
"…'Always hide your ace behind an impassive face'…" he murmured as his figure rose higher. "…You're starting to test my patience."
"Go to hell," Aleph growled.
Aventurine ignored him.
"Then… I bet it all!"
The glow around him intensified until it was blinding.
"To commemorate this moment… and to savor it fully…"
The dome snapped shut in total radiance.
"I'll unleash every last chip!"
The entire sky filled with giant chips and dice, crashing down with the promise of crushing them all.
********
The golden chips descended, ready to crush everything.
In the midst of the chaos, Acheron narrowed her eyes and began to draw her katana.
The figures of her companions froze like statues.
From her perspective, everything flowed in slow motion as a suffocating black and white swallowed all color.
Only the crimson glow of the electric currents running across his body cut through that muted canvas.
The sky had become a gaping void, and the ground dissolved into a dark tide streaked with milky white, as if the entire world had been drained into a monochrome nightmare.
Acheron lifted her sword with calm resolve.
One strike would be enough to end Aventurine.
But then, something stole her breath.
"…Spirits of vengeance?" She whispered.
She saw them.
Clinging to Aleph's body like ravenous parasites, an uncountable horde of figures emerged from the black sea—crawling up his arms, burrowing into his torso, sliding down his back.
There were colossal insects, beetles with iridescent chitin—some barely the size of a man, others vast enough that their silhouettes seemed to scrape the heavens. They twisted and chittered with knife-blade mandibles, wrapping around his flesh as if trying to devour him from the inside out—or merge with him.
Iron-clad warriors, armored in rusted steel with roots climbing their limbs and flowers blooming inside their helmets—faces replaced by blood-red petals—bound him like living chains.
Abominations, beasts with multiple heads and malformed organs, bodies born of a sick dream where every possible animal had been twisted into nightmare, bit and tore at him as their flesh fused into his.
White beasts with exposed bone and pupil-less eyes, covered in crystalline plates that pulsed like open hearts.
Demons with triple maws and tattered wings, their skin charred like coal, dragging themselves forward with claws still weeping fire—scratching at his bones as if to carve their hatred into him.
There were human figures too, faces disfigured by scars and agony, some with halos floating behind their heads, tiny wings sprouting from their necks.
Others beautiful beyond human measure, with eyes like gemstones, touched him with both devotion and spite.
Children with small, round bodies and pompoms sprouting from their crowns clung to his legs with a mix of play and damnation.
Tiny, adorable creatures like living candies, giggling and shrieking as they tore into his flesh with mouths full of sharp, cruel teeth.
Each was shrouded in black mist and streaks of crimson electricity.
Golden-orange marks crawled up Aleph's limbs and sank into his torso, etching runes into his bones and muscles. His flesh was carved open, shaped into a living altar. The spirits poured their energy into him—their strength, their life.
They no longer had egos, but their feelings persisted, stubborn and raw.
And Acheron could feel them with clarity.
…Hatred and contempt.
Fear and reverence…
Love and devotion.
But all of it, unmistakably, was directed at him.
Whispers spilled from their countless mouths in an indecipherable tongue, yet the euphoria in them was clear.
Their only desire was to give themselves to him completely.
Among the tide, a woman of unmistakable beauty floated near his neck.
She had short silver hair, wore a white toga threaded with gold, and her head was adorned with twin golden laurels above each ear.
Her arms wrapped around him gently, her face leaning close to his ear to whisper words of comfort—inaudible, but drenched in tenderness.
Aleph's eyes opened.
Vacant and glassy like a corpse's, crimson like sunset. His pupil had been replaced with a strange geometric shape. And yet, those eyes followed her, locked on her every movement.
Acheron froze. No one could see her in this space unless she allowed it. And yet Aleph was staring straight at her.
A sudden weight swirled in her chest.
An old sensation she hadn't felt in some time… sorrow.
A bitter pang that had no reason to exist.
She drew a deep breath and closed her eyes.
A promise was a promise.
And she had never broken her word.
One strike would be enough.
...
Aventurine opened his eyes in bewilderment.
The world had vanished.
All that remained was an endless sea of black and white, cut through by the silhouette of a black hole spinning above like a dead sun. Rain fell without end, and each drop carried a murmur—the lament of something that no longer existed.
The echo of his footsteps on the liquid surface was the only sound that belonged to him.
There were no colors, no warmth. Only that monochrome landscape, empty and suffocating.
"…Did I succeed?" He muttered, though his own voice sounded hollow, swallowed by the void.
He remembered unleashing all his chips, remembered the tension of the battle.
The Astral Express crew, the golden brilliance of his domain… and then, nothing.
He placed a hand on his chest, doubting his own memory.
Shadows began to take form around him. Withered faces, twisted figures, fragments of beings that looked torn out of time and forced to wander. Some walked like petrified soldiers, their bodies pierced through with roots; others, impossibly beautiful, looked with radiant eyes before fading like ash; there were small, playful silhouettes laughing with mouths full of teeth.
All were wrapped in black mist and sparks of red electricity.
"…No way…" Aventurine recognized some of them—at least in part, or so he thought.
At the far end, back exposed and katana in hand, someone was waiting.
Acheron.
But not the same one he had seen before.
Her skin was so pale it looked like it had never known blood. Her hair, whiter than freshly fallen snow, draped over her shoulders. Her eyes burned with a deep, unsettling crimson, and from her arm and chest bloomed scarlet flowers that seemed to open with every breath. The sword she held was a dark carmine, as if it had been forged from congealed blood itself.
He held his breath, startled by the sight.
She did not move, nor turn to face him. She only spoke calmly.
"It's a shame this place isn't the one you were looking for."
Aventurine glanced around in confusion.
"Then… what is this place?"
"One of its many manifestations." She replied, her gaze fixed on the abyss. "Perhaps you believe I am merely an Emanator hiding my identity… But the divine and the formless never look at anyone. It has no face, no shape, no will. Nihility wraps around all equally."
Her tone remained serene, almost detached.
"Some, however, spend so long under its shadow that they become even more corrupted. They grow… different, sinking deeper into it as they lose themselves."
Aventurine let out a brief, awkward laugh, tinged with resignation.
"…I don't know what to say. You've left me speechless."
He looked around, at the tide of spirits drifting aimlessly, fading like smoke as they moved toward some far-off place.
"Is this the land of the dead? Is this where I end up?"
Acheron shook her head softly.
"Even if you wished it, I cannot promise you that."
She turned her face toward him.
Her crimson eyes cut through him like blades.
"But I can tell you this. Your resolve is… astounding. I never thought there would be someone mad enough to defy the paradigm, to wager his very life in order to question what everyone in Penacony holds as an inviolable truth—that in sweet dreams, death does not exist."
Silence returned, broken only by the endless patter of rain on the black sea.
"You truly put on a sublime spectacle at the theme park—a grand move that fooled nearly everyone."
Aventurine sighed, raising a brow.
"How did you figure it out?"
She tilted her head slightly, as if recalling a distant detail.
"By connecting pieces that seemed irrelevant. Along with something I learned by chance, it allowed me to fit everything together… suddenly it all made sense."
Aventurine opened his mouth to ask another question.
But Acheron shook her head faintly.
"…Go. Wake from this dream, and do what you must. Your bet isn't over yet."