"I'm talking to a guy made of Memoria."
Leon answered his question.
"Memoria?" Gallagher paused for a moment. "You mean someone from the Path of Remembrance?"
"Not quite." If it were someone from Remembrance, there's no way he wouldn't have noticed.
"He's like that Memory Zone Meme of yours—an artificial creation." As Leon spoke, he unfastened the train ticket from his collar.
"An artificial creation?" Hearing these words, Gallagher recalled their earlier conversation. The old hound suddenly realized something and stared at the Memory Bubble in the old man's arms.
An artificial creation, and that name. Coupled with what Leon just said…
"Are you saying this Misha is the legacy left behind by Mikhail?" Gallagher asked, finding it hard to believe.
Memoria made manifest. He had said it before: "To achieve this, only 'Remembrance' or 'Enigmata' could be involved." But the problem was, he didn't have that kind of clout. So who did?
"Pathstriders are amazing, aren't they?" Leon replied with his own words.
"Are you sure you're not mistaken?" Gallagher confirmed again and again.
"I don't know, but my gut tells him he is."
(Fast-forward to the "So disgusting, how can you even tell?" meme.jpg)
"Take this, Misha." Leon said, taking the ticket from his collar and handing it to him.
"This should help you remember a few things."
Actions speak louder than words. Aha was a Nameless from the era when Akivili still existed and had traveled with the Aeon for a long time. The ticket He held was unique in its own way, possessing, to some extent, the blessing of the Trailblaze Aeon.
To put it simply, it had been marinating in Akivili's presence for so long it absorbed the flavor.
If Misha really was Mikhail, a product left behind by that Nameless... then holding this ticket couldn't possibly elicit no reaction at all. And if he wasn't... sorry, there was no possibility of him not being the one. Because his intuition was always right.
"Huh?" Misha took it in a daze.
"Does it look like the thing on your neckerchief?"
"Eh?" Hearing this, Misha subconsciously compared it to his own ticket.
"It really does." Although the colors were different and the style had its variations, he could tell they were made by the same person.
"Do you remember who gave it to you?" Leon asked again.
He didn't know the specific process for obtaining a ticket. But he'd heard from Gallagher that they were issued by a figure called the Conductor.
This implied an unavoidable prerequisite: getting on the train. But how could Misha get on the train? Did he even know how to board a train? Did he know about the Astral Express?
If he couldn't board the train, then it must have been a gift from someone else, just like his own.
"Who gave it to me…" The question seemed to overload Misha's brain, and his eyes filled with confusion.
Everyone present was waiting for his answer.
"Tick-tock!" At that moment, the sound of a clock suddenly echoed.
"Misha, you seem to be troubled…" A small, dwarfish figure with a clock for a head appeared out of thin air in Leon's field of vision.
"Don't worry, let's perform a Clockwork trick!" Clockie said with a grin, hands on his hips.
Holy crap, Mickey Mouse! Leon exclaimed internally upon seeing the character. Is this even streamable? Do we have the copyright for this?
"Is this Mickey Clock your friend?" Leon asked, pointing at Clockie. Better call him Mickey Clock just in case, less likely to get a cease and desist letter that way. Why Mickey and not Morty? Because the Morty-types have no meta value. But the Mickey-types are all incredibly skilled. A surefire win, my friend!
"Tick-tock, you can see me?" Clockie said, surprised to be addressed. "Looks like you're also full of childlike wonder!"
Clockie gave his approval, then told him not to get his name wrong. "But I'm Clockie, not Mickey Clock!"
Leon: (Wry smile.jpg)
"Clockie, do you remember who gave me this ticket?" Unable to find an answer, Misha asked his friend.
"The ticket? Wasn't that a gift from your grandpa?" Clockie replied quizzically, as if he couldn't understand why Misha would forget.
"Grandpa?" These two unfamiliar words struck Misha's memory.
"My grandpa?" Misha murmured to himself.
"Grandpa… Grandpa…" He kept whispering the word, as if doing so would help him recall his memories.
Just as he was at a loss, the ticket Leon had given him began to glow faintly.
—Akivili had given aid to the Nameless who traveled with Him. The confusion in Misha's eyes visibly vanished.
"I remember now… My grandpa is…"
"My grandpa is Mikhail, a great navigator." Misha muttered.
"We've got someone here who says he's Mikhail's grandson. What's the verdict?" Leon turned and asked.
"What? Mikhail?!" Gallagher was stunned; clearly, he didn't know about this either.
Damn it, old man, when did you have a kid behind our backs? You didn't even tell your dog?!
"What's Mikhail's full name?" Sensing something was off, Leon asked again.
"Ragewalker Char Mikhail." It was Misha who spoke. "Or more simply… Misha."
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, senior." Leon saw through the facade and offered a greeting in his capacity as a Nameless.
"I am unworthy of being called senior." Misha shook his head, his gentle voice now layered with a deeper, more resonant tone.
"I am merely a microcosm of his life."
"I am the ignorant protagonist of his childhood dream, Clockie's good friend, a young apprentice, and a future train mechanic for the Express." Misha said.
"At the same time, I am the starting point of his lifelong journey of 'Trailblaze'."
"At the very end of life's journey, I left this spark, which I held so dear, in the deepest of dreams, hoping to pass it on to the Nameless of a future generation."
"But somehow, he managed to run out of the Memory Bubble on his own and forgot his entire mission… This is truly..." Misha, or rather, Mikhail, apologized to him.
"Isn't it enough that he found me?" Leon actually thought the boy had good taste, seeking him out first.
It just goes to show that it's human nature to be drawn to strength, and even more natural to seek out an overpowered, easy-mode character to improve one's quality of life. Say what you will, the kid has class!
"You remind me of a friend." Looking at Leon, Mikhail was always reminded of Ternan. He wondered how his old colleague was doing now. He died without ever seeing Ternan again.
"Junior, allow me to pull rank with my age and call you that." Mikhail looked at him and said seriously.
"You are already aware of Penacony's current situation."
"The path of the 'Trailblaze' is never paved by others."
"Of course I hope someone will help this world get back on the right track…"
"But I hope even more that this is something you yourself are willing to and have decided to change, not because some other factor has led you to lend Penacony a hand." Misha was asking him, again and again, if he had thought it through.
"When you have the chance to make a choice, never let yourself have regrets."
"You came for the Astral Express." Misha stated that he had no reward to offer.
"But I don't know where the Express is, and I have no real assets to speak of right now…"
"I spent my entire life moving forward, doing everything in my power to break through the obstacles that stood in my way."
"But in the end, my road also came to an end."
"My body is like a battered old locomotive. If you were to ask what's left inside this decrepit engine that could be called a 'legacy'…"
"I suppose it would only be those things still burning within the engine's furnace…" Misha looked up at him, his eyes sincere.
"And for such an ethereal thing…"
"You will have to face 'The Family,' face the Emanator of 'Harmony,' face 'Xipe.' Are you really sure you've thought this through?" Misha returned the train ticket to him, awaiting his answer.
"'By my merit, I attest that oppression and injustice still exist here. After my sacrifice, please let righteousness be manifest!'"
"A hero who fell before the end of the long night entrusted his ideals to those who came after. Is that not a reward beyond measure?" Leon said as such, pinning the ticket back to his collar.
"Perhaps it wasn't before." He showed no sign of retreat. "But that's fine. Now, that is why I'm here."
Or rather, Leon was a man who had never known retreat.
"Someone has to stand up and save Penacony. Why can't that someone be me?"
Back when he was eighteen, everyone thought Leon was the most overpowered easy-mode character, and winning the high-difficulty championship was just a matter of time. And in reality…
The reality was that it didn't take any time at all; his stats were already so high he didn't know the meaning of limits. Unless he was explicitly banned, in any hypothetical scenario… He was the champion!
"The shooting stars of 'The Hunt' only fall during the longest of nights."
"The hero paid with his life to guide the way for 'The Hunt,' and 'The Hunt' will surely live up to that trust and bring forth the dawn." Leon spoke each word with resounding strength.
"The endless night ends here."
What high-difficulty challenge dares to make him yield?
"From this desperate place, read my chivalry."
The Family? Hmph, a bunch of petty rats! I said I'm going to save Penacony. Is your train of thought really that strange?
Misha was stunned for a long moment, then smiled happily.
He took off the "pocket watch" hanging from his person and handed it to Leon.
"This is my 'pocket watch,' the thing I cherish most."
"It accompanied me on my long journey, guiding that ignorant, foolish child ever forward, allowing me the good fortune to walk alongside so many great people to this day."
"And now, I want to give it to you." Misha's outstretched palm held the "pocket watch," waiting for him to take it.
"I hope it can also illuminate the path ahead for you."
"And I hope you can continue the journey with it in my stead, creating even more unforgettable, great journeys."
Leon reached out and took it. He looked down at it and realized it wasn't a pocket watch. It was a compass.
"And my hat." Misha said as he walked to Mikhail's side.
"The person who navigated for me placed it on my head, and from then on, planted an impractical idea in my mind: 'The journey of Trailblaze will never end.'"
"Now, I wish to pass this idea on to you."
"Consider it my way of navigating for you once, while the Astral Express is missing."
After speaking, Misha placed his palm gently upon the Memory Bubble.
"Successor of the 'Trailblaze'."
"If you are ready, then step forward and enter an old man's long, long dream." Misha cast a look at him, the meaning self-evident.
Leon put the compass in his pocket and stepped forward.
"I will get justice for you." With that, he placed his hand on the Memory Bubble alongside Misha's.
Immediately, a flash of white light erupted from the bubble! The white light engulfed Leon's memetic form, pulling both him and Misha into it.
"What is this?" March 7th asked, confused.
"This is a succession, child." Gallagher looked up, his voice tinged with a smile.
…
Within the space of the Memory Bubble, Leon stepped into Misha's past.
"Mikhail! Where are you going?" A young boy, looking no different from the Misha he knew, just dressed differently, ran towards a departing figure, reaching out and shouting.
"Someone has to step up and save Rusalka." An old man, looking his age, with a handlebar mustache, turned back. "Little Misha, why can't that person be me?"
The navigator Mikhail looked at his grandson clutching his sleeve and spoke gently.
"Don't go, please?" Misha gripped his sleeve tightly, tears shimmering in his eyes.
"Or take me with you, I'm begging you, don't leave!"
"You won't know how to navigate without me."
"Rusalka is not your destination, but your starting point." Mikhail shook his head with a smile. "Your adventure isn't here, child."
Mikhail gently removed his hand from his sleeve.
"My… adventure?" Misha asked with teary eyes, only half-understanding.
"There is a vaster ocean in the sky."
"It is an ocean of stars, and compared to it, Rusalka is nothing at all." Mikhail stroked his head, telling him that his place was not here.
"...An ocean of stars?" Misha didn't understand what he was saying; he just wanted him to stay.
"Yes, an ocean of stars."
"There is a train that carries children who long to go to faraway places, ceaselessly traversing the sea of stars." Mikhail said, taking the ticket from his chest.
"Captain Misha the Brave, haven't you always wanted to become an even greater adventurer than me?" Mikhail smiled faintly.
"Take this. That train will be here soon." Mikhail held the ticket out to his grandson, signaling him to open his palm.
"Board that train, and the journey you've dreamed of will begin from there."
Misha subconsciously opened his palm. He still hadn't figured out how things had suddenly taken this turn.
"Captain Misha, go and begin a journey that is all your own."
A past full of trials, the responsibility of protecting one's home, the dream of trailblazing the world—a pair of rough, large hands passed these things to an innocent youth.
The boy accepted the token of succession in a daze. So young, he had yet to feel the weight of that token.
"Take this, too." Mikhail remembered something and took out the "pocket watch" he carried.
"Didn't you always want this watch of mine?" Mikhail supported the back of his hand. He placed the watch in his palm, stacking it on top of the ticket.
"Now, I'm giving it to you." Mikhail's voice was filled with concern for the child who was about to journey far away.
"The days ahead will be difficult, but don't lose your way. Its pointer will show you the direction."
Having said that, Mikhail turned around resolutely. He walked forward with steps that led to his death. There was no bravado, only a sense of duty.
Watching his grandfather turn and leave with such determination.
"Mikhail, will you come back?" Misha's voice choked as he couldn't help but ask.
"I will." Hearing the call, Mikhail stopped.
"Trust me, Misha. Soon, we'll be able to travel to a wider world together." He turned his head slightly and gave his grandson a small nod.
"Until then, Misha, protect this place for me." These were Mikhail's last words, and also a promise to his grandson.
Misha etched that promise into his heart. Until—until forever.
Mikhail never came back. He died.
He died with his ship before the dawn arrived. To ensure the Astral Express could reach Rusalka smoothly, he used his life to repair the broken silver rail. He fulfilled his final Path of "Trailblaze."
At the end of the story, Misha, along with the newly arrived Nameless, resolved the "Stellaron" crisis in Rusalka. And, just as his grandfather had hoped, he boarded the Astral Express.
The young captain decided to follow the example of the legendary navigator Mikhail, bringing salvation to the hometowns of others and conquering that untamed, ferocious ocean (the Stellaron).
After Misha successfully boarded the train, the scene before Leon's eyes shifted again.
In front of the entrance to a carriage of the Astral Express, a clearly older Misha wore a hesitant expression, unable to take the step inside.
"Ragewalker, where are you going?" A white-haired young man holding a cane, with a prematurely mature look and dressed like a gentleman, asked.
"We should be heading to the next stop." The Trailblazer, the "young man," the current navigator of the Astral Express, and also the last navigator of Leon's era, Graham, called out to him.
"I… I might not be going." Misha hesitated for a moment, then voiced his thoughts.
"I'm planning to stay in Asdena, with Lazarina and Ternan."
"Oh… this place reminds you of home?" Graham understood what he meant.
"Mhm…" Misha tacitly agreed.
"The people of Asdena have only won a small victory. There's still a long way to go for true freedom… Hanunu needs us."
"Don't worry. Not all journeys have to lead to the sea of stars. Even if we leave the Express, our 'Trailblaze' won't end." Misha took a deep breath and said seriously.
"It's fine. I knew a long time ago that you lot wouldn't stay." Graham just smiled and didn't say much more.
"Go on, my friend. Take this with you." He took a top hat from his coat and stepped forward to place it on his head.
"This is… Mr. Amundsen's hat?" Misha was a little surprised by this development.
"Why…"
"Before he left, he said he wanted to leave it to his best student." Graham told him to accept it without worry.
"I think now is the time." Graham looked at his current attire. He felt as if an old friend had reappeared before his eyes.
"Goodbye, Ragewalker. Take care of Ternan and Lazarina." Graham waved farewell.
"Remember… to write to us." Graham's words paused slightly. It was clear this navigator didn't like partings either.
"Definitely!" Misha nodded firmly, making a promise just like his grandfather had.
After that, Leon witnessed the legendary life of this Nameless. He witnessed the birth of the Watchmaker and saw Penacony's rise from decline to prosperity. He also witnessed how The Family treats its heroes.
Misha reached this day one step at a time. But in the end, due to a poor choice of friends, his ship capsized in the gutter. He had never known failure. Perhaps his grandfather's death was his first failure, but Penacony should never have been his second.
"Remember, you must send the invitation to the Astral Express…"
The last scene Leon saw was Misha dying with a grievance. Even at the end of his life, his concern was for Penacony, not revenge, because he didn't want to see the tragedy of Rusalka happen again.
Mikhail's life was like a magnificent film, which Leon watched immersively.
After the film finished, the scene changed once more. He was back on Dreamflux Reef.
The scene was identical to before he entered the Memory Bubble. Directly in front of Leon was Mikhail's final resting place. But there was no one in the wheelchair, and no one else around.
Only Misha, a head shorter than him, stood before him holding an exquisite top hat.
"I've been waiting for you, future Nameless." Misha smiled.
"Although I don't know where you're from, what you look like, or what your name is… for now, please allow me to call you 'Trailblazer'."
Misha slowly walked forward. "I don't know why you've come."
It was clearly only a few steps, but he had taken a lifetime to walk them.
"Perhaps my harebrained plan actually worked, or maybe Graham came looking for me after not hearing back for too long." This final step was only completed after his death.
"But no matter what." Misha came to a stop before him and stood on his tiptoes slightly. "Your appearance here means you have accepted the duty I left unfinished."
Misha gently placed the top hat on his head.
"Penacony… I'm leaving it to you."
This gift, given to him by a senior, was now being passed on to a junior in his own capacity as a senior. This is succession.
"Thank you." Misha's face broke into a smile, as innocent as a child's.
"My journey ends here…" Having done everything, Misha slowly backed away, the distance between them growing.
So far that life and death separated them.
"From now on, this is your path…" As he retreated, Misha's height, voice, and appearance gradually changed.
Boy, youth, old man. He kept moving back, and his age kept increasing.
Until finally, he could no longer hold his form and collapsed onto the wheelchair. He had returned to the state Leon first saw him in. Looking like a peaceful old man who had fallen asleep.
Leon was silent. He took off the top hat and quietly examined this final gift.
The hat was undamaged, as good as new. It was clear its previous owner had cherished it.
"The so-called 'Trailblaze'…" He looked at the hat, and a phrase suddenly came to mind.
"—is to walk a more distant path along the unfinished roads of our predecessors." Leon murmured to himself, then placed the hat over his chest.
Then, he bowed his head slightly toward the Watchmaker before him, as if in mourning.
____
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