Hey everyone, it's been a while.
School's been keeping me busy as usual, but that's not all I've been working on. I've also been putting time into something new. If all goes well, I'm planning to release the prologue for my Wuthering Waves story either later this month or next month.
That's part of why this chapter took a little longer than usual. I've been deep in the process of building my main character, and I'm still refining them. I really want to get it right before I put it out there.
And just to give you something to look forward to… yes, it's about Irontomb...
Decicded to write this in here, at the beginning of the chapter, like I've started to do in FF.net, instead of using the "Author's Thought" feature here on webnovel.
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Himeko sat comfortably by the observation window, one leg crossed over the other, a cup of her personally brewed coffee resting in her hand.
A short distance away, Anthony stood with March and Dan Heng.
March was doing most of the talking — as usual.
"So you're telling me," she said, hands moving as she spoke, "that you survived on a broken planet for years and never once thought, 'Okay, this is officially too much'?"
Anthony considered the question. "I thought about it often."
Dan Heng glanced up from his data pad. "And?"
"I simply… kept going anyway."
March stared at him for a beat, then laughed. "Wow. That's… both inspiring and mildly terrifying."
Anthony shrugged. "Well… it was the only thing I could do, it was, well, practical. Besides, I… have my own reasons for wanting to survive."
Dan Heng nodded once. "That's understandable."
Himeko watched them over the rim of her cup, a quiet giggle escaping her. There was something comforting about the normalcy of it - small talk, easy reactions, the kind of conversation that was simply normal.
Welt approached her, adjusting his glasses as he followed her gaze.
"They seem to be settling in," he said.
"Better than I expected," Himeko admitted. She took another sip of coffee, savoring the warmth. "March has a way of making that happen. People don't stay guarded around her for long."
"Yes," Welt agreed quietly. "Which makes moments like this… important."
Himeko's gaze drifted back toward the others — and that was when she noticed it. Anthony wasn't really watching March anymore. His attention had shifted, subtle but unmistakable, drawn to the cup in her hand.
The steam curling up from it.
Anthony hesitated, then straightened. "Excuse me," he said, offering March and Dan Heng a brief nod before stepping away.
He stopped in front of Himeko and Welt, eyes flicking once more to the mug.
"Is that… coffee?" he asked.
Himeko blinked, then smiled. "Yes. I brew it myself. I'm rather fond of it."
Anthony paused, as if weighing the words carefully. "Do you think… I could try some?"
The way he said it — measured, almost cautious — caught her attention.
"I haven't had anything," he added after a moment, voice quieter now, "normal to drink… for the past twenty-two years."
The observation deck went still.
March's chatter cut off mid-thought. She stared, eyes wide.
Dan Heng's grip tightened slightly around his data pad, his usual composure slipping just enough to show surprise.
Even Welt's expression shifted, his brows knitting as he adjusted his glasses.
"Is that so?" Himeko said after a brief pause. Then she smiled, warm and decisive. "Well, I'll brew you a cup right away. Please, give me a moment."
Before anyone could respond, she turned and left the observation deck, her heels clicking softly as she headed back toward the passenger car.
The silence she left behind was… awkward.
March looked anywhere but at Anthony, tapping her fingers together as if suddenly fascinated by her gloves. Dan Heng cleared his throat and turned slightly toward the window, his attention very deliberately elsewhere.
Anthony noticed immediately.
"…What's wrong?" he asked, brow faintly furrowed.
Welt coughed once, a little too deliberately.
March winced. "Well — um — Miss Himeko's coffee isn't exactly—"
The doors slid open behind her with a soft hiss.
"I'm back," Himeko announced cheerfully, stepping in with a steaming cup in hand.
March froze mid-sentence.
Dan Heng shut his eyes for half a second.
Welt exhaled through his nose.
Himeko crossed the deck and held the cup out to Anthony, the rich scent of coffee filling the air. "Careful, it's hot."
Anthony stared at it for a moment, then accepted it with both hands, almost reverently.
"…Thank you," he said quietly.
Anthony went and took a sip and his face immediately scrunched up.
"S-So sour and bitter… Usually it's one or the other." He said as he took another sip. "But… I really don't mind it."
Anthony lowered the cup slightly, studying the dark liquid, watching the surface of the coffee ripple gently.
"It's… different," he said, choosing his words carefully. "Sharp. But warm. I think… that's why I like it."
No one replied.
March was the first to react — not with words, but with her eyes widening as if he'd just said something completely impossible. She slowly turned her head toward Dan Heng, silently mouthing, Did you hear that?
Dan Heng, for once, didn't answer right away. He studied Anthony over the rim of his data pad, expression unreadable, as if reassessing several assumptions at once.
Welt paused mid-motion, fingers still resting on the bridge of his glasses. He stared at the cup, then at Anthony, then back at the cup, as though trying to reconcile the outcome with basic logic.
Anthony noticed the looks. "…Is that strange?"
March snapped out of it. "N-No! I mean—" She waved her hands quickly, stopping herself before she could say anything unfortunate. "It's just… impressive. Yeah. Really impressive."
Dan Heng gave a small nod, slow and deliberate. "Most people need time to adjust to the taste."
Welt cleared his throat quietly. "You appear… adaptable."
Himeko brightened immediately. "I'm glad you like it! The beans used were polished by hand, through the use of a monomolecular blade."
There was a beat.
Anthony blinked. Once.
"…Polished," he repeated slowly.
March froze, her smile locking in place just a second too long. Dan Heng's eyes flicked to Himeko, then away again. Welt adjusted his glasses, expression carefully neutral, as though committing that sentence to memory for later analysis.
Anthony looked down into the cup, then back up at Himeko. "I guess… that explains the bitterness?" he said after a moment, entirely sincere. "But, what about the sour-"
Anthony was cut off by Pom-Pom as they came out of nowhere. "Alrighty, everyone! Pom-Pom has fully fixed all the damage to the Express! We can fully jump to the Herta Space-station!"
"Jump?"
March was already beside him, hands behind her head, grin back in full force. "Think of it like teleportation! Except cooler. And with trains."
Dan Heng nodded slightly. "Instantaneous relocation across vast distances."
Welt added calmly, "With a non-zero chance of disorientation, depending on one's prior experience."
Anthony looked back toward the window, eyes looking at countless stars. They shone as his eyes shone back.
"…Teleportation with trains, huh?" he mumbled.
Pom-Pom puffed out their chest. "Everyone, please brace yourselves! Jump sequence will begin shortly!"
The lights dimmed. The hum of the Express deepened, vibrating through the deck as the engine began to charge.
He took one last sip of his coffee, steadying himself as he sat down, and that was when he noticed March.
She'd marched herself to the center of the room, feet planted wide, knees bent slightly, fists clenched at her sides like she was bracing for an impact no one else could see.
Anthony blinked. "…Uh. What is she doing?"
Dan Heng looked up, fully placing his datapad down, already anticipating the question. "Every so often," he said evenly, "which is to say, often, March attempts to see whether she can remain standing during the jump."
Anthony watched as March straightened her posture even more, chin lifted with fierce determination.
"…And?" he asked.
Dan Heng's eyes flicked back to the screen. "She has yet to succeed."
March shot him a look. "Hey! I almost had it last time!"
Pom-Pom let out a long, tired sigh, shaking their head as they watched her. Then they puffed out their chest, snapping back into full conductor mode.
"Passengers, please return to your seats! The train is about to make the jump, hold on, everyone!" Pom-Pom said as Anthony heard March repeatedly mumble: "I won't fall over… I won't fall over… I won't fall over!"
"Five… four… three… two… one!" Pom-Pom finished as the train jumped. Anthony's eyes widened
The moment the last number left their mouth, the entire train seemed to stretch, compress, and vanish all at once. Anthony's eyes widened, a mixture of awe and disbelief rooting him to the spot. Stars smeared into long, streaking lines outside the windows, bending light in ways that made his head spin.
The deck vibrated and hummed as the Astral Express traveled through space, a sensation like being pulled forward and left behind at the same time. The cup of coffee he had been holding was now empty, the warmth long gone, leaving only the faint aroma lingering in the air. He leaned back, watching the chaos around him with quiet detachment.
March, still standing in the center of the deck, hadn't fared as well. The moment the jump hit full force, her feet skidded out from under her. She toppled sideways, arms flailing for balance, and landed with a soft thud against the wall.
Pom-Pom's ears flattened as they rushed forward, squeaking, "Careful! Everyone hold on! Passenger safety—!"
March pouted, then managed a sheepish grin, glancing over at Dan Heng and Anthony. "I told myself I wouldn't fall over… I didn't mean this kind of over."
Anthony stayed silent, watching her push herself back to her feet. The motion was quick, practiced, almost reflexive — like falling wasn't worth dwelling on.
It reminded him of his little sister, Rose. Not in some dramatic way. Just in the simple, stubborn habit of getting back up and pretending nothing hurt.
March and Dan Heng noticed the sudden seriousness in his expression and were about to comment, but Pom-Pom cut them off with a sharp chirp.
Pom-Pom straightened, chest puffed proudly. "Jump complete! All systems nominal! And with… well, minor turbulence, but nothing Pom-Pom can't handle!"
With that, Pom-Pom hurried back to the terminal as the comms flickered to life. A calm, automated voice greeted them.
"Welcome back to the Herta Space Station, Astral Express. You are cleared to dock at Platform Two."
Anthony exhaled slowly, finally letting himself lean back in his seat. He glanced at March, who was brushing herself off, and then at Dan Heng, who already seemed to be preparing the next steps.
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The station hung ahead of them in the void, vast and gleaming, full of mysteries and curiosities. For the first time in a long while, Anthony felt something like… anticipation.
Before the others headed toward the exit, Anthony remained on the Observation Deck.
He stood near the window, arms resting lightly at his sides, watching the station grow larger with each passing second. Behind him, he could hear Pom-Pom coordinating docking procedures, March's voice rising and falling in animated conversation, Dan Heng speaking in measured tones.
Normal sounds.
He let them fade.
The first thing on his mind was the medical examination.
On Thelha Ra'tha, there had been no alternatives. No hidden caches. No miraculous springs waiting to be discovered.
The only thing to drink was Pyre Dog blood. The only thing to eat was Pyre Dog meat.
There had been nothing else.
At first, he'd forced it down. The metallic heat of the blood. The dense, charred flesh that left smoke in his lungs even when raw. It wasn't a choice. It was survival stripped to its barest terms.
Years had passed.
It stopped feeling like a choice at all.
Then, one day, his System had notified him.
A quiet chime in the back of his mind. A line of text he hadn't fully understood at the time.
Adaptations acquired.
He didn't know the exact changes. The System never explained beyond vague descriptions and the benefits. But he could feel them. Heat no longer burned the way it should. Hunger dulled faster. Wounds closed with unsettling efficiency.
His body had adjusted.
To something that shouldn't have sustained him in the first place.
And now he was heading into a station filled with researchers who catalogued anomalies for a living.
His jaw tightened slightly.
The second thing weighed more heavily.
His System.
For twenty-two years, it had never gone quiet. Notifications. Status screens. Warnings. The faint presence layered over his thoughts like a second heartbeat.
The moment he left Thelha Ra'tha—
Silence.
Maybe because Thelha Ra'tha was what powered the system? It couldn't have been the Stellaron, as it was working even before that thing fell in. The thought lingered only a second longer before a warm voice cut through it.
"Anthony?"
He blinked, turning slightly.
Himeko stood near the doorway to the airlock, one hand resting lightly against the frame. "We're about to dock. You'll want to come along."
Anthony gave a small nod, pushing the silence in his mind aside.
"Right," he said evenly.
Anthony followed the Nameless down the platform as it extended with a clean mechanical hum. The moment his boots touched the polished surface of the Herta Space Station, his steps slowed without him meaning them to.
Light.
Not the harsh, dying glare of a broken sky. Not the red haze of ash drifting over ruins. But clean light. White panels overhead. Holographic displays drifting in midair. Steel and glass and orderly movement. The air didn't taste like smoke.
His eyes moved constantly, taking in the smooth architecture, the distant hum of machinery, the quiet efficiency of workers moving between terminals. Some of them stared.
No, not some. Most of them did.
The pelt draped over his shoulders still smelled faintly of char.
"Haha, shocked, are we?" March teased, stepping off the platform with a bounce in her stride. "I had the same face when I first got here."
Anthony didn't answer immediately. His jaw was tight, his gaze sweeping across the vast interior.
It wasn't just futuristic.
It was… well, big.
"Just how big is this place…?" he murmured, quiet but not quiet enough as the others heard him.
"Well… not as big as you think," Dan Heng replied calmly. "The Herta Space Station is divided into five zones. We're currently in the Supply Zone. The one you'll want to go to is the Base Zone. That's where the medical bay is located."
"I'll take him," Welt said, adjusting his glasses. "You two deliver the relic to Herta."
"Mm, okay. I'll go with them. I needed to speak to Asta anyway," Himeko added lightly.
Welt inclined his head once. "Very well."
March clasped her hands behind her back and leaned toward Anthony with a grin. "Try not to break anything while we're gone, okay?"
Anthony gave her a flat look. "I'm not that uncivilized."
Dan Heng's gaze flicked briefly to the Pyre Dog pelt still draped over Anthony's shoulders but, mercifully, he said nothing.
"See you later!" March chimed, already walking backward as she waved. Himeko followed at a calmer pace, heels clicking softly against the pristine floor. Dan Heng gave Anthony a short nod before turning away with them.
And just like that, the noise lessened.
The steady rhythm of the station remained, but the familiarity of the Astral Express crew thinned out behind him. Anthony stood there a moment longer than necessary, feeling the shift.
Welt stepped forward, hands resting behind his back. "The Base Zone is this way."
Anthony nodded once and fell into step beside him.
As they walked, the stares continued. Subtle. Curious. Some were openly wary.
He could hear snippets of whispers.
"Maybe I… should've changed back on the Express?" Anthony muttered, shifting slightly under the weight of the stares. He wasn't embarrassed easily. After twenty-two years of survival, shame had dulled into something practical. But this was different. This wasn't a battlefield.
Welt's expression remained even.
"Don't concern yourself with it," he said calmly. "To be frank, I'm not certain we could have had anything suitable for you aboard the Express."
Anthony glanced at him.
"You are… considerably more muscular than the average passenger," Welt continued, adjusting his glasses. "Anything we might have offered likely would have torn at the seams."
Anthony looked down at himself, then at the pelt around his shoulders. "…Right."
"And," Welt added, tone softening just slightly, "you have endured far worse than curious looks. Do not give them more weight than they deserve."
They resumed walking.
"With the medical examination," Welt went on, "we will also arrange proper clothing for you. Something more comfortable."
Anthony huffed faintly through his nose. "So I'll also look like I won't have crawled out of a wasteland."
"Haha, that too," Welt replied without missing a beat. "Ah. Here we are."
The doors before them were pristine white, seamlessly built into curved metallic walls. A soft blue light traced the frame, and the words Medical Bay — Base Zone illuminated above in clean, sterile lettering.
The doors parted with a quiet hiss.
The air inside felt different. Filtered. Cool. It carried the faint scent of antiseptic and something faintly synthetic, like processed oxygen. The lighting was brighter here, clinical without being harsh. Transparent screens floated in midair, displaying vitals and data streams Anthony couldn't begin to understand.
He hesitated for half a second.
Anthony hadn't seen a hospital for twenty-two years, even more so when everything here was just so… futuristic, much like the rest of the station. While he could make out, say, the tools he did know. A stethoscope, for example, and then to the side in a tray, a scalpel. That was about it. All of this… new stuff made him nervous
A nearby researcher glanced up from a console. Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly when she looked at the Pyre Dog pelt, the scars lining his arms, the sheer density of him. She recovered quickly, offering a professional nod.
"This is the patient?" she asked.
"Yes," Welt answered. "Anthony. Full examination requested."
Anthony folded his arms loosely across his chest, gaze sweeping the room. Machines. Scanners. Instruments that hummed faintly with contained energy.
"…Is this going to hurt?" he asked flatly.
The researcher blinked. "No. It's non-invasive."
He gave a short nod. Good.
Welt stepped slightly aside, though he did not leave. "They will assess your physical condition, run scans, and check for abnormalities. Given… your unique circumstances, it is best we are thorough."
"Ah, don't Worry. I understand." Anthony replied nervously as the researcher took him to a table.
"Well… let's start with the basics before we get into anything complicated," she said lightly. "Vision, reflexes, motor function. Simple things."