Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Dan Heng is bare. Even if it’s covered by the cloak he stuffed over his head and even as it blankets his body up from the tip of his hair to the bottom of his ankles, it’s still not enough. Well, not because it’s not an appropriate cloak, but because he’s lacking a more restrictive and protective safeguard. Even if the cloak is lacking in other areas—areas that don’t even apply to his current state of longing—it still holds many memories and experiences. Not enough to supplement the current loss but enough to remind him why he’s feeling loss in the first place.

He bumps shoulders with so many people bustling, Dan Heng feels more so like he’s being pushed backwards rather than forward to whatever destination he’s trying to be at. It was normally like this before the Astral Express; in fact, hiding amongst large crowds was the best way to… keep safe, for lack of better words.

But the heat and discomfort washes over him constantly, more so than usual. Dan Heng finds that he’s more sensitive to touching around his midsection—not surprising, but rather annoying and interesting considering his current state.

Dan Heng’s right shoulder collides with a hard metal frame. He’s sent back with the force and knocks his back against the sharp edge of another’s elbow. The layers of Dan Heng’s hair set apart to make his fringe are swept around in his movement of whipping around. In this motion, Dan Heng’s balance teeters to his left leg, the unpredictable force leading him to piston on the heel of his left foot.

“Woah there! Sorry ‘bout that.” The cloak that blanketed Dan Heng’s form is being pressed against his back by a firm hold, bringing Dan Heng back onto both feet. Before he can even identify the passerby he bumped into, he’s being pulled away.

When Dan Heng’s focus allows him to settle and take in his surroundings, he’s facing the dark depths of an alleyway facing a taller being, also donning a cloak. There’s a split down the middle that leaves the gap making Dan Heng privy to the gunmetal material outline of abs, right before he can meet the person’s face.

Salt and pepper colored hair, strong heavy layered bangs over one side of the face, and targeting reticle outlined a red pupil.

“I… you—h-huh?” Boothill sputters, eyes flitting from Dan Heng’s feet to his face. A poor imitation of a broken clock, or a steam engine. If it weren’t for his tooth clinging to the piece of the crooked cigarette in his mouth, the ashes from the soot along with the cig itself would be scattered across the floor.

“You’re—“ Boothill stops himself in his own words, clasping a metal palm to his forehead, brushing back the life-like synthetic strands that have covered over the free side of his face. “What’re you doin’ here?”

His pupils flit around Dan Heng’s form, looking behind him rather than around. Even going as far as to subtly tilt his head, looking over and above.

Dan Heng, arms folded over and remains fixated on Boothill with a pressed lip that says ‘if you say anything more about this…’

Instead, Dan Heng settles on. “For reconnaissance.”

“No goody Nameless would be seen on this planet.” Boothill hovers over closer.

Dan Heng clears his throat. “I understand you’re not a person that sees out to do harm. Allow me to pass by.”

“And why should I?” Boothill pops his hip to the left, a dramatic swish of his hair as it’s swiped behind him. “You don't have that jade abacus on you anymore. In fact, where is your little crew? Shouldn’t they be swarming ‘round you? They wouldn’t let you be on your own… unless…”

Dan Heng’s lips press harder together, if possible. His eyebrows furrow causing deeper creases into his forehead. If Dan Heng grit his teeth any longer than this, he fears he’ll have to worry about covering the appearance of his faded tail and horns.

“Unless they're not here.” It dawns onto Boothill.

“They’re aware of where I am.” It comes out quickly, too quickly that Dan Heng worries Boothill can tell. Is it the foreign entity (or entities) existing in Dan Heng’s stomach? Or the threat of anyone finding out about it?

“Is that so?” Boothil raises his chin up, peering down at Dan Heng with both an arched brow and arched eye. Though Dan Heng can’t tell if his other eye is squinting to emphasize the inquiring stare, he can feel it instead with the manner of how the tickle of the dying smoke burns off the cigarette end influences his olfactory nerves.

Dan Heng’s nose twitches. Subtle, it would be viewed as endearing, cute, under the eyes of Ren. But to Boothill? They come with more scrutiny and skepticism.

“So you’re sayin’ if I call up our friends right now you won’t have nothing to hide?”

“That would be unnecessary.” Dan Heng’s already blocked everyone, rigged his device to be sure that he can’t be followed by any of the Express for the time being—excluding if they decide to involve Silver Wolf. However, by the time it comes to that, Dan Heng’s phone would be discarded or he would have returned to the Express… he’s hoping for the second option.

Boothill laughs, it’s somehow airy despite it resonating from his chest. The sound still follows the light of his cocky grin, the glint in his pupil, and the manner of which Boothill pops his hip to the other side and positions his shoulder weight to the alternate angle.

“You still didn’t answer my question, but if it’s a satisfactory answer, I might just be so kind as to let you be on your merry way… if I’m feelin’ up to it.”

Dan Heng’s jaw hardens.

He restrains himself from fanning his jaw, by keeping his arms crossed over his chests. The light condensation of sweat accumulating under his jaw and dragging down his black high neck sweater. Dan Heng swallows once. Throat dry and clutching onto any sense of moisture, from the lack of humidity in the air, and maybe this ridiculous conversation is pulling more from him than expected. “I…”

Dan Heng’s vision both brightens at the corner of his eyes and blackens in the center. His left knee buckling to one side; he teeters forth and leftward. Everything darkens before Dan Heng can catch himself.

“Motherfudger—“ sectioned metal fingers curl out to him.

When Dan Heng comes to, he’s greeted with the blackness, and a low light emitting from the lower corner of his eye.

“You awake, sleeping beauty?”

Boothill sits with his back turned to Dan Heng. The way he talks is muffled almost, as if something is blocking his tongue from making full pronunciations. There’s chewing, a snap coming from something that’s similar to the crunch of scrap metal.

Is Boothill biting a bullet?

“What? You never seen anyone eat scrap metal before?”

“SHHHH is typically the one seen devouring the scrap metal; I wouldn’t believe it to be very appetizing.” Dan Heng sits up, his cloak is neatly folded and set to the side.

“How long have I been out for?” Did he contact the Express yet?

“A couple hours give and take.” Boothill polishes his gun. “You owe me by the way, if I haven’t been there you would’ve been robbed of every little thing.”

“Much obliged.” Dan Heng swings his legs over the cot. “Where are we?” When his eyes adjusts to the low emission of light from the middle of the ‘room’ and the darkness surrounding them, Dan Heng realizes that he’s in a large tent.

“In my safe house.”

“It’s a tent.”

“A tent in the middle of nowhere. Better than nothin’”

“And pretty boy.” Boothill stands up, now stalking towards Dan Heng, with every footstep is long and heavy. Every slow awaiting stride is paired with a subtle metal jingle of the spurs sitting at his heel. All up until Boothill is staring him down, hats off, and long tresses flowing in front of his face. “There’s been a nation-wide hunt for you.”

What.

To emphasize, Boothill takes out his phone, bringing it forth to Dan Heng’s eye level.

Pretty Lady:

Hello Boothill!

Dan Heng is currently MIA. If you cross paths with him on your journey, please inform us.

Himeko.

Short, concise, and sweet. However, it lacks the diplomacy and flowery texts that Himeko would usually draft up for a message of this altitude. It’s only been four days and they're deciding to send out galaxy-wide assistance? Didn’t Dan Heng write a letter already? Was that not enough?

Dan Heng can only sigh, shaking his head and burying his face into one of his palms.

“I see…” It was foolish to believe that a simple letter would deter them from looking for him. If anything, he should have made a video.

“I contacted the pretty red haired lady. Told ‘em you were here and that you knocked out. What the fork is up with that?”

“It was a reconnaissance mission. We got lost from one another.”

Boothill takes his phone away, scrolling down further and presents it to Dan Heng’s face.

Pretty Lady:

We are situated in Planarcadia. If you can manage to hold him there until we arrive, it would be most appreciated.

All this for him? Dan Heng would have a moment of heartfelt joy if it weren’t the utter embarrassment and tinge of annoyance that panged. Was he a child? To have Boothill of all ruffians to hold him there until they arrived?

“The jig is up, lizard. Now spill.”

Lizard?

Dan Heng’s nose scrunches. “Why should I? You intend to give me back to the Express.”

“If you have a good reason as to why I shouldn’t… I could make a switcheroo…”

How could Dan Heng make a convincing argument out of this? What would be the lie that he had to upkeep for the entirety of his time with Boothill to keep him on his side. At least up until the truth could safely be presented to anyone else.

Dan Heng opens his mouth. The truth would be much too heavy to explain all at once, and a lie would have to have the same measurement of convincing. “I…”

However, the struggle doesn’t come from the lack of making up a good lie. Rather, it’s the throbbing migraine that’s awakened in a pulsing sensation on Dan Heng’s temples and the surge of pressure from deep within his throat that makes him hesitant.

If Dan Heng spoke another word he’d feel as if he’d gag on his next coming words. His throat constricts, a foreign feeling in his stomach tickles the spot beneath his rib cage. Adding an unpleasant pressure to the area.

“… are you okay?” Boothill’s face scrunches up when his eyebrows furrow. His lips downturned into a frown.

Dan Heng’s palm cups over his mouth as a soft exhale and gagging noise is made. He hunches over himself, coughing slightly between gagging and dry heaving.

Boothill steps back, both arms hovered above his waist. His eyes widened to reveal those red glared pupils skittering around Dan Heng’s shaking form. He leans one foot pointed right, to evade Dan Heng and move out of his way. Another part of Boothill wants to come over and wrap an arm around his shoulders and pat his back.

When removing his palm from his face there’s a cloudy pool of saliva gathered, but luckily nothing there. Boothill internally sighs in relief at the sight and looks away.

Dan Heng is more relieved than he expected. He hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday afternoon and hasn’t had the appetite or energy to keep anything down. Why would he be so miserable other than the hunger pains?

Perhaps it was the hunger pains making him nauseous.

“Now you have to tell me what the fudge is going on. Darn it!” Boothill covers his forehead with what would’ve been the stretched skin between his pointer and thumb. “Are you ill, is that what? Forkin heaven.”

Dan Heng pauses, still hunched over himself and looking down into the ground. This is it, this is his way out. A white lie that’ll allow him to go free… even if it was a rather cruel lie.

But it’s not far off from the truth.

Dan Heng turns around, hiding his spit covered hand into his body. “Yes.”

A throb from his left temple. Dan Heng winces.

“I was joking! I didn’t think you were motherforking serious!” Boothill exclaims with such a stretch to his voice it makes Dan Heng almost feel bad for lying, almost.

“It makes no sense then. Why the fudge would you run off?” Boothill sighs, shaking his head. Maybe he would have been better off letting Dan Heng go off wherever he was heading to.

That’s the question Dan Heng has yet to answer for himself. There was a multitude of answers and reasons, but none that seemed right enough to justify his actions.

So he answers with something closest to the truth. “I didn’t want to place a burden on them.”

That keeps Boothill silent. He runs his metal hand through the synthetic strands of hair, pushing back the layered chunks that have stuck onto his face.

“Is that enough of an answer for you?” Dan Heng prompts.

Boothill shakes his head “When you say that it makes me sound like an applehole.”

“The knocking out, the coughing, and what else? Fudging Tummy aches?”

Dan Heng turns away. He hit it right on the mark. Following that statement, Dan Heng’s stomach hits him with a considerable ache that has him pausing for a long moment. If… that happened, Dan Heng would have an easier time getting back to the Express.

Dan Heng lifts himself from the cot. “Please have the Astral Express thank you in my regard.” He trudges towards the front of the tent, where it splits into the opening via zipper. “Thank you for taking care of me. I’ll be on my way.”

“Hey! Where do you think your goin’?” Boothill whips himself around, following Dan Heng’s movements.

“Wether or not my reason was enough for you to keep my wishes of departing from the Astral Express, I will be leaving whether you agree or not.” Dan Heng turns around, singular eye narrowed in on Boothill from a side glance.

Boothill groans, deep and aggravated as if a rake is dragging across the ground. “I can’t just let you go like that.”

A pang on Dan Heng’s temple, on the right side this time. No matter how much he tries to explain himself if he doesn’t leave now, he’ll never get the chance to.

He slips out of the tent and makes larger strides outside. “Hey! Where the heavens are you gon’ go?”

Boothill ‘swears’ to himself, uttering out fragmented curses under his breath as he chases after Dan Heng with an increased pace. “… heavens… what the helly…?”

Boothill manages to reach Dan Heng’s side. “Tell me where you’re heading.”

So you can tell them where I’ll be? Dan Heng’s eyebrow arches high while he tilts his head and stares up at the other man.

“Don’t give me that stare. I’m feelin’ bad about all that stuff I pushed you into earlier. For reals.” Boothill explains. His hand drops to his hip and the other lays freely on the other side. “I’ll accompany you to your next stop.”

Dan Heng frowns. “No need.”

“Hey! Wait.” Boothill whips out his cellular device, tapping away at the screen before presenting it in Dan Heng’s face.

Boothill:
Sorry about that, Pretty Lady. Lizard boy just disappeared. He’s a real slippery one.

“Was the pretty lady necessary?”

Boothill grins, shark teeth shining out through the gap. “She is a pretty lady, is she not?”

Dan Heng tuts. “I don’t see what comes of your benefit in helping on my behalf.”

“Can’t a galaxy ranger want to see some good done every once in awhile?” Boothill palms the gun handle settled on his hip and leans into his left hip. “It feeds into our bottom line. Nothing for your pretty head to think too hard about.”

If Dan Heng could frown further it wasn’t something that could be discovered now, with how tightly wound the wrinkles in his forehead curled it seemed like there wasn’t room for more stress. “I can recall that your bottom line included only two things; never bully the weak and never kill the innocent.”

He adds, for the killing blow. “Which one says that you must accompany me to my next stop?”

Boothill merely lets out a loud hearty laugh. As if the ridiculousness of it all mattered in this context. “You really listened to all that back then? You pretty much internalized it. How forking funny.”

“Look at it like this, kid. I walked over the bottom line of bullying the weak and want to pay it back by helping you get to where you need to be.” This time, Boothill’s smile is nearing genuine and sincere… as sincere as those shark teeth could look. “I’ll lie to that Express of yours and you’ll be on your way.”

Dan Heng closes his eyes and exhales. There’s no other way going around this. Either way Boothill was insistent on accompanying him. “Very well. However, I came to this planet for a reason. Once my task here is finished you may accompany me to my next destination and that one, only.”

“Which is?” Boothill pops his weight into the other hip.

“The Xianzhou.”

“Of course. You wanna return to your hometown before its lights out for you.” Boothill nods, as if he unlocked the basics of otherworldly knowledge.

“Then what’re you hanging ‘round here for?” His cowboy accent thickens up in the middle of the sentence.

Dan Heng clarifies. “There’s an oasis here that’s closely connected to the Forgotten Hall. There is a memokeeper I’d like to speak with.”

Boothill’s eye(s) widen, and like before, something dawns on him. “That memokeeper on Penacony.”

Dan Heng nods. Finally, now they’re getting somewhere.

“She’s an elusive one I’ll give ya that.” Boothill shrugs. “I don’t see why you’d need to spend your time searchin’ for her.”

Dan Heng pinches his nose bridge. A pulsing ache washing over like a wave, the sea foam the remnants of another ache pushing against his temporal lobe. “She has knowledge of something vital.”

Boothill doesn’t press any further.

“... are you goin’ to wash that off?” Boothill nods in gesture towards Dan Heng’s still spit soaken hand. There’s a twist in Boothill’s mouth that gives an inkling to the failed attempt at hiding his disgust.

Dan Heng looks down. An evilier part of his brain has half the mind to go back inside and wipe it on Boothill’s cot, as revenge; or Dan Heng could wash and wipe it off once he found an appropriate bathroom. Instead, he turns over his palm and lets the cloudy spittle drop down across his hand to the dirt.

“Let’s go find something to eat…” Dan Heng utters out. Whether to himself or Boothill—who just happens to be around to listen to his self talk.

“Not without washin’ your hands your not.”

3 days ago

The moon of Planarcadia has set itself to sleep, little Zzz’s that resonate within the sky appearing every exhale. On the Astral Express everyone would have been tucked to bed, March clutching onto a pink bunny plush—not-so-strangely resembling her—from Fluffy Across the Blue. Stelle sprawled starfish all over her comforter, too tired to pull back the covers and tuck herself in. Sunday, leaning his head over the circular coffee table in his room, takes off his piercings. Himeko, who is enjoying a steeped onyx pearl, pistachio sea salt blend gifted by Pearl in good faith of their alliance. Then Welt, assessing his features in the mirror.

However, the five of them—along with Pom Pom—are all pulled away from their nightly routine by Pom Pom’s cries of “Dan Heng is missing! Dan Heng is gone!” and they find themselves surrounding the large round table in the party car.

March cries out, with both hands clutched close to her chest. “Dan Heng wouldn’t just up and leave us like that! Something must’ve happened without us knowing!”

Stelle nods aggressively, both hands clasped onto her hips with her elbows flared out. “Dan Heng must have been blackmailed.”

A leathered glove presses into the gentle arch of Welt’s black frames, moving his glasses back into place. “Let’s not get too carried away here. We cannot say for certain what happened.”

“It is indeed uncharacteristic of Dan Heng to depart without informing any of us.” Sunday’s right wing flutters, brushing under the wispy chunks of his face framing layers.

Himeko stands in front of the table, all of them are centered around. Her manicured nails curl delicately into her palm while her knuckles slide under her chin while she contemplates. Reflected in the molten ochre of her eyes, surrounding her pupils like an ornamental plate, is Dan Heng’s bracer and two folded envelopes. These were the important things salvaged within Dan Heng’s room, placed right over the blanket on his futon.

One letter is deemed for the ‘Astral Express Family’ and the other… for ‘Ren’

“Should we open it now?” March looks back and forth amongst everyone. She teeters side to side on her shoes and keeps her arms tucked in, going as far as to reach out and fiddle with the strands of her face framing layers.

Stelle looks over to Welt and Himeko for permission, stepping closer over to the table, her hand hovering just above the envelope.

“I believe that we can. Please do us the honors.” Welt nods once meeting Himeko’s eyes for shared agreement.

Sunday nods in tandem when the others look over to him for his input. Once the sentiment is shared Stelle doesn’t waste another second in ripping the envelope open with savagery and desperately unfolds the paper.

On the surface level, Dan Heng’s writing looks as neat and concise as possible. As if he was writing an abstract on the most recent planet they’ve explored. However…

Hello,

It is unfortunate that I cannot see the end of our journey in Planarcadia.

Do not worry for me. I will find the Astral Express and return, you may guarantee my word on that. In my absence, look over the beginning and ending of old and new stories.

I have some other matters that require my concern. Please do not come looking for me.

Continue the trailblaze journey.

With love, Dan Heng.

“But where would Dan Heng go without telling us? If it’s that important or even that little, surely he would let us know. Right?” March 7th looks over to each and everyone.

“… I believe that Dan Heng chose the best decision with the information he had.” Welt affirms. “Whatever he seems to be dealing with has set him off apart from us.”

“Pom Pom,” Himeko looks over to the tiny bunny-like creature pacing along the extended length of the party car. She can practically see the tick marks of anxiety and frustration appearing above his head with every bounce he takes to turn around and pace to the other side.

“Huh? Yes Himeko?” Pom Pom waddles with a ferocity to Himeko’s side, staring up at her with those giant blue eyes.

“Is there a way you can check the logs for any unaccounted jumps? Perhaps the use of fuel for a smaller object.”

“Good thinking.” Welt pitches in. “I can check if any of the pods, or teleportation equipment has been used.”

“I shall reach out to Madame Yao Guang. Perhaps she’ll have an inkling.” Sunday offers.

Himeko nods. “Yes, that would be wise. We have to check if anyone on Planarcadia has seen Dan Heng.”

“I’ll get the Furbo’s on the lookout for him.” Stelle adds, a smile broadening as she looks to March. “We’ll have huge, giant missing posters posted everywhere.”

March 7th giggles, shaking her head and exhaling out. The discontent creases in her expression ironing out. March matches Stelle’s broadened smile. “I don’t see how putting up large posters will help us. If anything, we’ll end up scaring off Dan Heng.”

“If Dan Heng was facing problems of his own, he’s more inclined to remain silent. What I don’t understand however, is why he would leave this…” Himeko extends her own hand from under chin to the bracer, but halts in her own movement, settling on resting her palm on the area in front of the bracer.

For as long as she’s known Dan Heng, he’s never taken off the thing for anything but to bathe himself or polish the armor piece. With the deep degree of care and attention he has with the thing. Himeko would expect it to be the first thing he would bring aside from Cloud Piercer on any kind of journey.

When asked, Dan Heng only mentioned in such an acute and vague manner the two pieces belonged to his past. Despite his own overwhelming experience regarding his history, Dan Heng still held onto the two. As if unwilling to let go or push away the turbulent former memories any more than no longer speaking or living that former life.

“Perhaps…” Sunday speaks up, stepping closer to the table and looking over the two remaining objects with a particular scrutiny. “Would the Stellaron Hunter have something to do with his disappearance…?” Sunday gestures to the remaining letter on the table.

Both March 7th and Stelle's eyes widened at the mention. The both of them whipping their heads to look at each other. As if playing a game of who can get the most brain damage the fastest.

“You mean that weird one, Blade?” March’s voice arches into a particular tone at the question, looking over to Sunday for further clarification.

Sunday nods. “Yes, over our time in Planarcadia Dan Heng has had increased exposure to him.”

“Sunday,” Welt clears his throat. “Would you happen to know or pick up on anything strange in Dan Heng’s behavior as of recent?”

Sunday pauses, pressing a curled finger to the plump bottom of his lip. Humming low before speaking, “Aside from the higher than usual contact with the Stellaron Hunter, and increased signs of sickness symptoms, nothing else of the sort seemed to be out of the norm.”

Himeko inquires this time, “Sickness?”

Sunday nods. “Yes.” Pressing a flat hand to his heart. “Very often he would have difficulty holding his food in and often looked very pale over the course of these two weeks.”

Silence amongst everyone.

“… did I say something?” Sunday tilts his head, looking cautiously amongst the Astral Express. Setting his eyes on Welt who looked more bewildered.

Sunday opens his mouth to utter an apology but Welt intervenes. “No need to apologize, Sunday. That was very useful information.”

“So he’s sick…?” March 7th practically whines out. She presses the palm of her hand to her head and looks up, as if an Aeon would come down and present her with the solution themselves.

Stelle crosses her arms over her chests and stares down the girl next to her. “How insightful. He’s sick so now what?”

“Gah! Do you even know what inciteful means?” March protests, stomping her foot at the end.

“You’re saying it with a c so you’re immediately wrong!” Stelle sticks out her tongue for emphasis before whipping around and showing her back.

“Wha?!—“ March 7th steps back, her short hair whipping wildly in its unkept stupor in the movement, “Y-you can’t even tell! C and S sound the same!”

Both Himeko and Welt shake their heads, letting out soft groans, and pressing palms to their forehead in some makeshift disbelief.

“If only Dan Heng were here…” she mentions fondly, carding a part of her long red tresses through her fingers.

“… he would be able to sort them out, surely.” Welt adds, unable to withhold the upcoming smile twitching at his wrinkles,

Sunday cannot help but smile fondly following the course of the younger two’s banter. He looks towards Welt and Himeko.

“… perhaps after exhausting our other options, we call upon Miss Black Swan.” Sunday suggests.

Himeko brightens up at this. “What a wonderful idea. Perhaps we can reach out to her first before pursuing anything else. It will take some time for her to reach back to us.”

Stelle yawns, and raises her left hand, using the other one to cover her mouth. “I can ask her.”

Welt shakes his head. “That’s something me and Himeko can do. In the meantime, get some sleep.” Welt looks over the three of them. Standing side by side, looking up to him with the same gumption of baby birds to their mother.

“Ahh, how will I be able to sleep now?” March 7th sighs. “Knowing Dan Heng is gone from right next door just doesn’t feel the same.”

Himeko places a hand on March’s shoulder, rubbing back and forth accompanied with her signature smile. “You’ll have us, March. Even if we aren’t complete without Dan Heng, it doesn’t mean we aren’t here for you.”

March 7th returns her smile easily, going in for a hug around Himeko’s waist. “That’s so sweet! Thank you Himeko.”

Once the three younger members leave, Himeko and Welt share a look over the bracer, laced and tied neatly into a bow over the article. Additionally, the neat cursive of ‘Ren’ in the center of the envelope.

“… we cannot exclude the theory Sunday presented earlier.” Welt begins, pushing his glasses into place once again.

“If he left his bracer then we can most certainly expect the reason why he’s gone is because of…” she trails off, eyes reading the name of the addressed wrapper.

Welt chuckles. “You never saw that kid go a day without it… especially when we found him.”

“Yes. He looked as if he fell out of the sky.” Himeko looks up at the ceiling, both of her arms folded under her busts. “Blade is a very strong candidate for Dan Heng’s disappearance. However—“

Welt intercepts with “—that still doesn’t explain the sickness.”

“Perhaps—“

“Mr. Yang! Himeko!” Stelle huffs and inhales deeply multiple times, holding her phone over her knee as she keels over and anchoring her entire weight onto the lower ligaments.

“What’s wrong?” The two of them rush to her.

The only action Stelle takes is extending out her arm to whip her screen in front of Himeko and Welt’s face. It nearly takes the both of them out but luckily due to experience and fast reflexes they are able to avoid her near assault.

On the messaging app on her phone are three top icons… Kafka, Firefly, and Silver Wolf… all the Stellaron Hunters.

All except the one that really matters.

Chapter Text

“It’s unusual for you to be the one calling upon me.” Black Swan’s gaze sweeps across the barren field of palm trees, and sand. Some dirt and grass sprinkled into the mix of the plot of land closest to the water. She’s grinning when she meets his gaze again. A particular amused glint pressed into the way her pupils dilate into the purple-yellow sunset mixture of her iris. “I have a feeling it has to do with your absence from the Astral Express.”

“I had attempted to speak with you in the Forgotten Hall, but…” Dan Heng trails off.

“That was two weeks ago.”

“Yes.” Dan Heng nods.

“And I apologize for that. I had attempted to stay below the radar after Amphoreus. The Garden of Recollection is not known for being the most benevolent in frictions of decision pertaining to cases of galaxy wide anomalies.”

“It’s fine. I wished to ask–”

A clink of metal swipes Black Swan’s attention from Dan Heng, and to behind him. Boothill is fidgeting around with the bullets in his gun. Either chewing away at the hard metal or fidgeting with the barrel of the revolver. Every little movement makes the spiked wheels of his boots spin and clank against the dipping sand or rub against his body.

“Ah, Galaxy Ranger.” Black Swan’s smile seems to sweeten. Then looks over to greet Dan Heng’s eyes, again. “What a strange pair.”

“Nothin’ strange about it. We had a mighty showdown in the party car.” Boothill huffs.

Dan Heng shakes his head. “He infiltrated the Express, and threatened both Pom Pom and I.”

Boothill grins, rigid shark teeth exposed to the world. “Yet you find yourself here with me.”

“Only because you insisted on righting your wrong.”

“It wouldn’t have been like that if you just told me from the get go.”

Dan Heng sighs. That would have destroyed the whole point of being secretive.

Black Swan laughs, pressing her fingers to her mouth in a poor attempt to muffle her amusement. “Since you went to all this trouble to still call upon me while on the run, ask away. If it’s anything I can assist you with, I’ll see to it.”

Dan Heng exhales out, his chest coming down while he takes a moment to accumulate his thoughts. “Is there anywhere in the galaxies where the memoria is strong, but isolated enough to establish a connection to the Chryso Heirs.”

From amused to astonished, Black Swan’s eyes close for a moment. She presses a curled finger to her lips. “I see…”

“What do you intend to do?”

Dan Heng folds his arms over his chest. “I only intend to speak to them.” By them, he means one of them.

“I would suggest the previous location of Amphoreus but seeing as how fresh and unstable the planet’s memoria is. There is no saying if it wouldn’t birth another IronTomb and repeat the cycle.” Black Swan shakes her head. “Perhaps Penacony would be best under a controlled and central environment most known for memoria stability.”

Dan Heng’s breath hitches, expression twisting. Going to Penacony would leave too many chances of seeing someone they knew… most notably Robin… Sunday’s sister. Were the two even on talking terms?

You’re going back to the Xianzhou. What difference would this added risk make?

“Perhaps Penacony would be more promising.” Dan Heng speaks aloud, whether to himself or Black Swan. “Would there be a minor planet that would have existence or a lower variance of skill regarding memoria?”

Black Swan’s lips press together. “Any planet existing in the same plane as Penacony. The closer the better.”

“Right…” Dan Heng would only have to worry about how to make the jump from the Luofu to Penacony without getting caught, seen, or encountering anyone he knew. This would be much more trouble than what he presumed.

Black Swan assesses Dan Heng’s form. Confirmation from what she had extrapolated regarding him came to fruition.

Dan Heng clears his throat, fidgeting under Black Swan’s scrutiny. “If I may ask,”

A day ago…

“Thank you for coming on such short notice Black Swan.” Himeko sets her hand on her chest, just above her collarbone in lieu of good faith towards the memokeeper.

Black Swan waves her off with one hand. “I apologize for the delay. The situation post Amphoreus has taken the Garden of Recollection some time to recover.”

Black Swan looks around the party car, her sunset ridden eyes already catching the strongest of the most recent memoria floating through the air. The strongest energy coalescing the round table.

“It’s been such a long time since I’ve visited Planarcadia’s galaxy. You must be elated to be back.” She looks towards Himeko, then rests her eyes back on the bar.

Himeko smiles fondly, though in there lies something vague and hidden. Something Black Swan will not press into. “Yes, it was wonderful to reconnect with the local culture and my father. We’ve been too busy with the Phantasmoon Games to truly appreciate and rest after the events of Amphoreus.”

She adds. “It’s only a shame that Dan Heng can’t be here to witness the continuance of this journey.”

“I’m aware from your message that Dan Heng has made himself… absent.”

Himeko nods, looking over to the round table just partially before facing Black Swan once again. “You did a wonderful job with March 7th, we were hoping you could do something similar with Dan Heng.”

“I’m beginning to see that.” The vague yet extremely potent emotions of worry, abandonment, and sorrow filter the room in and stream out when the other positive emotions like glee and content come to take its place. Though the most recent and strongest memories of the party car are filled with worry and dejection, the majority of the memories made here are happy ones.

“We have his bracer, and two letters from him. Is that—“

“No need. Please escort me to his room.”

With the door shut closed behind them, Black Swan stands in the middle of the room with Himeko trailing her. Compared to March 7th’s room, this room is quite quaint and small but life is birthed into every nook and cranny just the same. With the steps leading to the glass panes with water texture resonating under and a cozy desk space that spans the entire wall and some more. The dark wood of the wall leans at an angle and accompanies shelf space for the many books. In the center of the room at the farthest end of the wall, is an elaborate screen showcasing an abstract visual of the galaxy; orbs of gold in hierarchy amongst the rectangular space while strong lines circle the focal point.

“Please do as you will.” Himeko nods, folding her arms under her bust. Her over-the-shoulder coat rustling with the change in movement.

“Hmmm…” Black Swan hums, her lids slowly shutting. The strongest sensation here…

Discomfort, nausea, and foreign aches.

The emotions accompanying these factors are panic; especially with the foreign aches. There’s confusion lingering around but most of it has been clouded by the panic and longing. Longing?

If anything, every recent emotion is riddled with an underlying anxiety. Oh the little dragon… what has he gotten himself into.

But there’s something that's foreign—not alluding to Dan Heng exactly—but to Black Swan. Strange not as in never occurring, but strange for Dan Heng. An energy that is only acquainted and synonymous to an expecting mother.

Black Swan’s eyes widened. Her body nearly recoils, however she withholds herself, becoming hyper aware of who stands behind her. Dan Heng… attempted to call upon her two weeks ago… could it have been for…

“Has there been any recent changes to Dan Heng’s behavior or events, outside of Amphoreus, that would influence his change in behavior?”

Himeko sighs. “Perhaps it was the most recent change in his and Blade’s dynamic that brought about this change.” She says it as if Dan Heng’s a rebellious child running off with his juvenile sweetheart that she doesn’t approve of. The sentiment would make Black Swan laugh but the resounding context of Dan Heng’s situation weighs heavy over her head.

“Dan Heng increasingly had more exposure to Blade.” Himeko’s nose scrunches. “Sunday says that Dan Heng has been showcasing symptoms of being ill.”

“Specific to nausea and fatigue.” Himko clarifies.

Black Swan nods. “I understand. Dan Heng abandoned his bracer in this endeavor…” that eliminated the prospect and rare case scenario that Dan Heng would abandon the Express for the Stellaron Hunter. Even the thought of it was foreign and unusual.

But that wasn’t the point.

Increased exposure to Blade that shifted their relationship dynamic.

The abandonment of the most cherished bracer.

Nausea and fatigue witnessed by Sunday himself.

Feelings of panic and anxiety within his space.

Then the final straw, the unusual vibrations given off only by expecting mothers.

Oh little dragon. What did you get yourself into?

The Present

“Who knew you would be the one to find me?” Black Swan chuckles.

Dan Heng frowns, folding both arms over his chests. Just as he suspected, Black Swan had met with the Express first. Mind them, he had contacted her first.

Black Swan tuts, unable to contain the absolutely guilty crinkle in her expression while she grins amused, from ear to ear. “Don’t give me that look.”

“Need I remind you that I requested you first?” The absolutely adorable frown on Dan Heng’s expression would tie any stone hearted warrior to his side. It has Black Swan charmed by the blatant ease of his displeasure. She can understand why the abundance-ridden Stellaron Hunter’s so infatuated with him.

“That’s why I’m here to rectify that.” Black Swan’s smile shifts subtly. “I’m aware you wish to keep away from the Astral Express, for the time being of course.”

“I won’t let them know of your next steps until you deem it necessary.” She assures.

“And how will I know you will keep your word?”

“Hmmmm, I don’t believe that this is something that can be mentioned in the eyes of someone else.” With a graceful wave of her hand, fingers spread out to fan out a memoria space that sends Black Swan and Dan Heng to darkness.

“Son of a biscuit!” Boothill’s voice becomes drowned out in that same moment.

When the light emits, Dan Heng can see they’re in a similar space to that of the Vortex of Genesis. With the skies distantly vast and far in the mesh of navy blue and purple. The only thing that’s missing is the Titan runes and altar.

Dan Heng turns around, there is a fragmented window—like a rip in the space—where Boothill’s pacing and shooting at them. Though he fires multiple shots, nothing ever penetrates through.

“We can talk here for the time being without worry of being overheard by the Galaxy Ranger.”

Dan Heng turns around to face Black Swan. She should have done so earlier but whatever. “Go on…”

“That Stellaron Hunter… Blade, left you with a little gift.” Her eyes draw down to his stomach.

Of course she would know. She was most likely the first of everyone they knew to find out. That’s why Dan Heng wanted her on his side first.

“So you know.”

“You knew that I’d be the first to find out.”

Dan Heng sighs, the temporal force that invaded his temples now focuses on the middle of his forehead. “It was inevitable. I suspect that the letter would not be enough to deter my companions.”

“They miss you.” Black Swan tilts her head, resting her hand on her hip.

Dan Heng missed them too.

Sunday’s companionship over the first period of being on Planarcadia was a comfort he didn’t realize he sought out. That calm in contrast to the other two’s chaos, someone whose view was not as experienced as Himeko and Welt but just as valuable. However, Sunday would be too perceptive to his shifts and changes in mood and health that it would be too dangerous to stay any longer.

March and Stelle’s chaos he dearly missed. At least if he was still on the Express he could use them as a distraction. Not only that but the nights that Stelle and March would wake him up to infiltrate the kitchen for ice cream from Belobog and candied soda from Penacony. However, Dan Heng knew that if he remained longer with them then his difference in mannerisms would catch them off.

Same thing with Welt and Himeko. Their experience and deep knowledge of their relationship with him would cause them to worry and catch the differences in his behavior. But alas, Dan Heng would give whatever he could for a moment of Himeko’s comforting words and Welt’s calming presence to assure his future.

“They suspect that an illness has something to do with why you left, and that it bloomed from Blade.”

They were right.

“Wait.” Dan Heng’s head bounds up, assessing Black Swan’s face. “They don’t… you haven’t told them. Correct?”

It would be okay if she did. Really. It was just that Dan Heng was hoping to keep it secret a little while longer… to maybe see if something of this manner for his species was okay to keep. Otherwise he would need a doctor to be rid of it.

“No. I haven’t informed them of the nature of your illness. However, they do believe you to be ill with something of terminal nature, or something serious enough to warrant your abandonment.”

“… Yes.” Dan Heng looks back to Boothill, who's still struggling against the space rip. Anything to avoid Black Swan’s eyes.

“I don’t understand why you would rather run.” Black Swan shakes her head. “Was this truly something you believe would warp their vision of you?”

“With the Phantasmoon Games at front, Stelle and Sunday need to be at their best, whatever is going on with me could no longer be contained…” Dan Heng looks down at his stomach. Running was foolish, and stupid, it drew more attention than not but he truly didn’t know any other way to solve this concern… there were really only two options. “I am aware that running causes more attention to be pulled away from the important task at hand but I know my companions, eventually they’ll give up and focus on what’s important.”

“And…” he didn’t want to cause Ren to waver in his decision… no matter how bitter they left off.

Black Swan’s lips press tightly against one another. “You are important.” She shakes her head. “Oh Little Dragon…”

“Miss Black Swan, until I am fit to, please continue to hide my location from my companions.” Dan Heng places a hand over his heart. “I promise I will return to the Express safely and soundly.” Once he found out a proper plan of action.

Black Swan sighs. “I understand.”

“But,” she holds up a hand. “I will notify them of your location after you’ve visited the Asdana galaxy, and the Xianzhou to get your answers. Whichever comes last, I will be watching you.”

Dan Heng falters, but he gives in. “You don’t trust me to return on my own.”

She smiles. “I don’t trust that you’ll return in a timely manner.” Black Swan brings her hand back down. “By the time you deem it as okay, the others on the Express would have pulled their hair out in worry.”

He can’t help but smile in response. “Alright. That much I can oblige with.”

With a snap of Black Swan’s fingers, the space around them has collapsed and brought them back to the oasis. Dan Heng’s feet meet the inbetween of padded dirt and malleable sand.

The sound of gun shots have him whipping his head around, catching onto the sight of Boothill aiming his gun at Black Swan. Clashing with Boothill’s terse and rigid frame, Black Swan relaxes and pops her hip to place her hand onto.

“It’s nice to see you again, Boothill.”

“Same could be said to you. You really ought to quit that disappearing act. I tend to read those type of things wrong.”

“Boothill.” Dan Heng calls.

A mere side glance is what Dan Heng’s given.

“My apologies.” Black Swan diffuses. “I had to give our little dragon some privacy. As truce, how about after you accompany Dan Heng to his next stop I will treat you to some of Asdana’s White Oak.”

Boothill’s eyes narrow, he breathes in deep, all before he closes it and unequips his gun. The mechanism shifts into gear as it reforms back into his fingers. “There’s no fighting some good ole Asdana. I’ll keep you to that, Miss Memokeeper.”

3 Days Ago… with the Stellaron Hunters

“How is he holding up?” Firefly approaches Kafka, right after she’s stepped through the door, leaving Blade inside with his lonesome.

The blue holographic signatures from both flicker in the trick of the light but reappear in a matter of milliseconds.

“Not good.” Kafka answers. The bluntness leaves Firefly subtly wincing at the thought.

They all assumed that once after Dan Heng and Blade… more or less bonded after the recent events of Shuhu their companion would stabilize. If anything, he’s more volatile. Not towards them in any aggressive sense, but to himself.

He had told General Yao Guang that he felt a shift on the mental plane, an absence of sorts that had made Blade restless and fidget endlessly. He paced endlessly in his holding room, and his focus was wavering. Yao Guang told them that if he didn’t cease in his restlessness then he would not be able to undergo the ending he was searching for.

Something was preventing him from moving on.

That was something Kafka planned to ask her about later but… she somehow poofed into thin air by the time was able to corner the Xianzhou peacock.

“How are you doing? Has Elio given you permission to leave your pod?” Kafka nearly scolds the other, if not for her gentle and amused smile.

Firefly fidgets, sheepish in her smile and the way her feet rub against each other. “I am strong enough to do this, Kafka. I wish to be here for our companion.”

“Bladie would not approve of your neglect against your health.” Kafka folds her arms over each other.

Firefly smiles, though void of any sort of true glee. “Unfortunately, at the moment he’s not here to scold me for doing so.”

“Were you able to figure out what it was?” Silver Wolf pops in from beside Kafka and Firefly, she pops both hands on her hip and looks from the taller woman to the shorter one. The subtle curls in her ponytail jostling as she moves her head from side to side.

Kafka shakes her head, “No.” She presses a gloved palm to the side of her head, attempting to ease the slow fall of an ache soft launching itself inside her skull. “I was able to put him to sleep.”

“Too bad Dan Heng isn’t here…” Firefly utters out, looking down at her feet.

“You both should have seen them.” Silver Wolf throws both of her hands up. “Bladie couldn’t keep his eyes off of the dragon king. It was like he was a limited edition skin.”

Firefly giggles. “We wish we could have been there. It must’ve been a sight to see.” How romantic—oh. She means, how heartfelt. Seeing their oh-so-intimidating and hard natured companion become soft and vulnerable in the vision of someone who sought revenge against.

Kafka smiles too, something nearing her usual grin but much more sincere and genuine. “That would have been the best conclusion for his perfect ending, I suppose.”

Silver Wolf shifts unevenly on her feet at that. Her arms relaxing at her side, and a frown patterning over her usual carefree expression. She pulls away partially from the others, lifting her hands up to press away at the holographic screen that blooms from the device built into her tech glove.

Before Firefly can lean just close enough to read at whatever she’s tampering with, Silver Wolf has pulled it all away and down as if it never appeared. “I guess since Bladie’s out of the lobby I can go back to playing games.”

Kafka looks more amused than anything, crossing her arms and fixing Silver Wolf with an arched brow, as if saying ‘is that really what you should be doing right now?’ While Firefly shakes her head and face palms, her long flowy tresses of her silvery blonde hair move in tandem with the gentle movement.

Kafka looks over to Firefly, or rather down. “Since Bladie’s down, we can—“

BAM.

The door behind them flies from its hinges, along with smoke. The object narrowly wisps through the holographic entities of Firefly and Kafka. Firefly panics, a subtle change in her body movement flagging her arms away from her sides and looking around as if expecting armor to take root from her body.

The three of them first spot the growth of red. His spider lilies, blooming from the fissures born into the ground.

“Where is…” Blade, hunched over and leaning into the frame, knees bent as if he’s using every last bit of his strength to pull forward.

“Bladie,” Kafka takes slow steps towards their companion. Her voice is honey sweet, something that would transfix past SAM into Firefly, past the hyper alert rush of blood going into her body and the endorphins that push her to stay alive. It could coax her to sleep, to do whatever at this moment Kafka wished.

“Don’t…” a mere subtle step forward pushes another fissure of red spider lilies from the ground. “leave.”

Blade falls forward, crashing into the ground, one arm held out and cushioning his fall.

Silver Wolf is by his side first (the only one who can be), her knee crashing into the hard ground and peeling Blade off his front and to his back. She’s cradling his head with one arm and using the other to pat over his body for any irregularities.

Blade had only been with General Yao Guang for a week. They were just playing Cosmicon Collective together three days ago, and he was just fine. He was even wearing bunny ears, he told her he was hanging out with Dan Heng and they were able to see eye to eye in simple daily life activities. Silver Wolf even joked that the next thing they would do together if they stayed this long around each other was get married and buy a house.

Now, he’s short of breath, clutching on her forearm, and sweating profusely beyond what his Mara madness would take from him before. He just suffered from his battle with Shuhu, wasn’t that enough?

“Get him stabilized.”

From the other side of the room, a pair of clicking heels forces all three of the lucid Stellaron Hunters away from Blade and onto Yao Guang. Her multi-colored eyes transfixed on Blade’s form curled into Silver Wolf. With every intention, Kafka and Fireflh both step closer to Blade and Silver Wolf.

By Yao Guang’s command, the Xianzhou soldiers line up and begin approaching them.

“Not with force.” With a compelling reckoning, Yao Guang’s managed to get the soldiers to put down their spears and in fact, await for the Stellaron Hunter’s permission.

Both Kafka and Firefly step back, allowing space for the soldiers to come forward. However, Silver Wolf holds a degree of apprehension against them. If anything told by the way she may have held Blade closer.

This time, Yao Guang steps forth. She meets eyes with each and every one of them, aside from Blade. “We have the full picture. If you can allow us to handle his condition we can speak until we have him under control.”

“Under control?” Silver Wolf spats the words, eyebrows crinkling. A deep downturned frown set onto her lips.

“Stabilized.” Yao Guang corrects herself. “I believe once we are able to stave off the abundance culling at his body we will be able to speak with him and receive a coherent response.”

“Until the time being, I will explain everything I’ve learned on my end.”

The three take a moment to reflect. Firefly looks towards Kafka, Silver Wolf, then Blade; his beads of sweat apparent from where she stood, and repressed grunts of pain barely heard.

“As long as you treat him well.” Firefly nods. “The first sign of his lucidity we want to speak with him.”

Yao Guang turns to her, an amicable smile present. “Yes. Of course.”

The guards pull Blade away, leaving just the four of them together. The fissures of energy have disappeared along with the stench of death resonating from the red spider lily’s.

“You are a hard person to catch, General Yao Guang.” Kafka says in lieu of a greeting. “You must be busy with how often you disappear.”

“I’m content you all understand my position does not allow me to be in more than one time or space. Now that I’m here, I suppose the three of you want to know—“

“What did you do to him?” Silver Wolf Sparks, both hands on her hip. “Blade was fine before you had him confined here.”

He was able to make her the only thing she’d be too stubborn to stay away from, something native from the Xianzhou, easy to eat and absolutely delicious. Spicy chili noodles that weren’t just from a styrofoam frame but individual ingredients served and cooked with intention and care. All served under a fried sunny side up egg.

Kafka turns to Silver Wolf, brows furrowed and a twitch in her hand that roots her hand in place against her sides that prevent her from lifting it up. It’s not as if she could touch Silver Wolf anyway, she… she’s not even there.

Yao Guang shakes her head. “I apologize, seeing a companion in pain is something I’d never wish on anybody.” She presses a hand over her heart as emphasis.

“However, it’s nothing I or any of my Xianzhou fleet ever did or would do.” She turns to address everyone. “I was notified as of late that Dan Heng has disappeared.”

“What?” Firefly pitches in. “How?”

“The Express’s newest friend notified me that Dan Heng took a leave of unapproved absence.” Yao Guang fiddles with a dangling aspect of her silver necklace. “They say he’s left a gift for Blade. Specifically, a letter.”

So when Silver Wolf texted Dan Heng earlier… the unusual ‘service provider not in use’ message was not a prank response.

Kafka gestures to Yao Guang, “So the dragon’s disappearance has to do with our Bladie’s health.” She then tuts, and shakes her head. “What will we do now that they’ve just had a taste of each other. Now they will never want to be apart.”

“Other than the innuendos referenced there…” Yao Guang begins. “I’m sure you’re all aware of this already but these two share a common history. There is truly never one without the other…” she continues, exhaling out a sigh as if preparing herself to go through the full depth of their intertwinement.

Without a doubt. The only reason Blade had these instances and spikes in Mara was because of how Dan Heng—or the person Dan Heng was before—cursed him. Or that’s how Blade explained it. He has no recollection, no memory of the complete and stable story of how he came to be and who he was before.

They’re all lucky he hasn’t succumbed to the curse.

“We know Dan Heng’s important to him.” Firefly answers. “But what does his disappearance have to do with Blade’s misery? I know that they’ve spent more time together lately but Dan Heng’s always been far away.”

Dan Heng has been gone from Blade’s life for so long. There was absolutely no way that to this degree it would pull Blade into a misery that nearly fragmented him.

“The bracer.”

Speak of the devil.

The man himself.

Blade, from the corridor, comes into light. Much more present, eyes less clouded.

All eyes are set on him.

“Well, that was quick.” Yao Guang folds her arms over her chest.

“Bladie,” Kafka calls out, a smile crossing her features. The usual dull look in her eyes seemingly brighter. Blade notes, something that happened similarly before, that her smile looked very sad. In response, he stalks her to her side, nodding in acknowledgement in her direction.

“I hope you’re feeling alright.” It’s the only thing Firefly can say that she feels is suitable. Blade too nods in her direction, though there’s deep wrinkles set under his eyes.

“How did you recover so quickly?” Yao Guang inquires. “I don’t believe any of our abundant remedies would serve this fast of a recovery.”

“I’m built different.” Blade faces Yao Guang, eye to eye. Lips pressed flat and expression unmoving aside from the usual lines of regressed aging. Even Silver Wolf, whose expression held tight and unpleasant could not contain the snickers beneath her hand clamped over her mouth.

In reality, it had been the mere thought of Shuhu culling the happy memories of his time with Dan Heng that pushed him forth to recover. Something about him made him calmer… and just the same, as if two aspects on one coin could ignite his ire and fury.

She barks out a short laugh, something coming off more surprised mocking than actually sincerely humorous. “Your service of holding off the Abundance aren’t just of noble quality, but your humor as well.”

“Har. Har.”

“Now what about the bracer.” Kafka encourages. She’s fully aware that the bracer was one of the largest aspects that pulled them together. A telepathic bond that let Blade know of his location at all times. Honestly, Kafka’s more stunned that Dan Heng didn’t take it off first thing when he realized it was what kept Blade chasing after him.

Blade winces, pounding hitting all nodes of his brain. The synapses all firing at once. “He took off the bracer… I can’t feel him anymore.”

He inhales. “His very breath, his being, is absent.”

“It is as if… the Nihility came and took him away from me.”

“Nothing but a void.” Blade closes his eyes. No matter how he tried to concentrate and sense Dan Heng, it came up to be as fruitless as what he attempted many times before. So intently and responsively it had brought him closest to the heart wrenching misery of Shuhu’s full frontal assault.

“This bracer…” Yao Guang pauses in her sentence. “I see.”

It’s clearer now. Dan Heng’s disappearance and the lack of information of his presence linked through the bracer is gone. That’s what must have pushed him over. Perhaps that’s a reason why Blade hasn’t been so far gone as one would have expected of someone so Mara struck.

“The letter…” Blade‘a voice cuts through her thoughts. “Dan Heng wrote a letter for me.” He looks towards her.

Yao Guang shakes her head, shifting her weight onto one side of her hip. “I’m afraid I don’t have it in me. It’s on the express. You’ll have to go there yourself.”

Blade nods immediately, something universally acknowledged by everyone around them. Yet no movement is made to encourage his movement or discourage him.

“Let’s go.” He urges.

Kafka speaks up first, after sharing a look with Yao Guang. “Bladie, perhaps we should take a break on all the action and wait for your body to stabilize.” Any wrong emotional current and it could bring about a tsunami much larger than what they prepared for. At least without Dan Heng, nothing can be promised in assuaging Blade’s deep unrest.

“No.” Blade’s voice is cutting edge, he practically snarls the response. Though not out of aggression towards Kafka but rather as a manner of restraining himself. “Every moment I remain here, it’s taking all of me to sustain my weight to this pointless space when every bit of my gravitational pull wishes me closer to him.”

Oh how poetic. Firefly nearly cries out a ‘yes’ beyond what normal measures of what she would do. Especially regarding this delicate circumstance. Who knew Blade had it in him? Not stating that he was a heartless monster of sort but Blade’s usual hard exterior always helped making a show amplifying the moments his soft interior showed through.

“If it’s Dan Heng he wants, Dan Heng he should get.” Silver Wolf looks over to the other two, as if challenging their decision. She suspects Firefly would have no qualms… Kafka however.

She merely chuckles. “Who knew you’d have such a strong resolve dedicated towards anything other than death.”

“I don’t see why not.” Kafka turns to Yao Guang, the final verdict.

The general merely nods. “It’s easy access to the ship through a temporary space anchor set on Planarcadia.”

“Hm, I’ll come with him.” Silver Wolf gestures a hand out of her folded arms.

Yao Guang nods. She looks over at Blade. “That would be best. Although…”

“Never mind.” Yao Guang shakes her head, a silly little smile appearing on her expression. “I refuse to believe you would take this as an opportunity to serve as a getaway plan.”

“As of now, my priority is to find the truth.” Blade responds. Though Yao Guang is barely fooled with that excuse. Not because she expects Blade to run, but because she’s aware he cares deeply for Dan Heng.

“That’s the spirit. In this case, it’s time me and Firefly fall back.”

Firefly nods. “I wish the best of luck to you both.”

Blade nods while Silver Wolf gives them a complementary wave.

When the entities of both Kafka and Firefly’s holographic forms fizzle out, Blade and Silver Wolf make their way out of the room.

Yao Guang, not too far behind, follows them; she can’t help but feel a momentary lapse of unsettlement. Not because she feels another warp or shift in space or time occurring, but rather, the discomfort settles from Blade’s attachment to Dan Heng.

If he’s so held by the material aspect of their relationship, how will be move beyond to meet his death?

Penacony is just as they’ve left it… perhaps even better. Now that the Dreamscape has long been abandoned, Dan Heng finds it easier to navigate through the Reverie hotel. Though, it’s been revamped into a rehabilitation facility where those who have come to the dreamscape to reside are allowed to progress to a new tomorrow.

It would be easier for Dan Heng to navigate through the sea of people if there wasn’t a constant looming mechanical cowboy following his every move.

“I thought we were goin’ to the Xianzhou.” Boothill says a bit too loud. He draws the attention of the fellow customers but not enough to get them to say anything. If anything, they steer clear of them and even make room for Dan Heng, spearheading into whatever direction he feels is the strongest.

Dan Heng was planning to go to the Xianzhou first. In fact, Dan Heng didn’t even need to touch Penacony grounds, much less the Asdana galaxy. Getting here was such a pain without the Express’s jump.

Yet, there was another aspect in his head pulling him away from his place of birth.

But he didn’t want to explain all these complicated emotions to Boothill into words he couldn’t even manage to think up or explain himself. Instead. Dan Heng says. “I am. You’re not.”

“Shame. I wanted to talk to that kid, hey, how about I come along with ya. They say two’s company?” Boothill grins.

Dan Heng already has company. In this instance he’s holding it. Whether parasite or progeny he must find out.

His head makes a resounding temporary ache, only for a few seconds but it’s enough to slightly halt him in his tracks and stir Boothill confused.

Boothill leans over Dan Heng, face slotted close enough over his shoulder to recognize the wince of discomfort. “You’ve been doin’ that a lot. You need to grease your gears or something?”

“Grease my gears…?” Dan Heng looks over his shoulder to Boothill, expecting to spot the shit eating grin, instead, he looks rather… concerned.

“Or something.” Is Dan Heng’s post response. He steps away from Boothill.

He turns away, continuing to walk towards the only place he feels is enough. Before he left, Black Swan had mentioned this specific aspect of the Reverie had an accessible yet private space that had a stronger memoria connection that would allow Dan Heng to use “As I’ve Written” to do as he see fit. Potent enough to summon a being from Amphoreus, but not enough to pull Amphoreus into the unprepared Asdana galaxy.

But before he can do this. Dan Heng pauses, and turns around.

“Boothill.”

“What?”

“Please do something for me.”

Boothill crosses his arms over his chest, giving him an exaggerated tilt of his head, nearly toppling his cowboy hat over the side while his hair follows shortly of the movement with a sway.

“Whatever you have, it better be good. I ain’t wasting my time here, almost being caught by forking IPC biscuits.”

Boothill never needed to be here in the first place. He’s just doing this for the love of the game (annoying Dan Heng) at this very point.

“Please stay here, and prevent anyone from going past this point. Once I’m done I’ll find you again.” That should be enough.

Boothill pushes. “That’s two ‘pleases’ already. Should I expect this to be something important? By any means necessary?” He eggs on.

Dan Heng can feel the tension and strain of a vein on his temple forming.

“Don’t do anything reckless.” He feels like he’s speaking to Stelle, ridiculing her to stay safe, even if he’s fully aware of the many times she’s always managed to come back.

“Yeah, yeah.” Boothill waves off without another question…

Strange.

Boothill being this obedient and docile.

Dan Heng shakes his head. There's no use in lingering on it right now.

It’s a long hallway. Very bare and empty. There hasn’t been a slot where a frame fits a door for several feet and he’s beginning to question whether or not Black Swan set this as a trap.

The hallway finally reaches its “end” when a slot appears, and it leads Dan Heng to his left to a wide room. In its corners, coalesced with memoria bubbles as if they were webbed to the wall, floating in, around, and on the space.

“—in that space of the Reverie, the memoria has crystallized into a physical resin form it would be beyond laborious even for the ever most capable IPC to remove.”

This should be enough. Memoria bubbles that may already be stained with others’ memories whether through shed tears, heart break, joy, or the horrors of the abundant life; Dan Heng has no choice but to attempt to reach out to the only person he can consider assistance.

He opens ‘As I’ve Written’ that was taken (stolen) from Stelle’s room.

I apologize, Stelle. Just for this instance I require it. It will return to where it was safely and soundly when I return.

When he passes through the pages of ‘As I’ve Written’ he stops at the very chapter his heart had been calling to all this time. Regrettably, every moment he’s managed to have his hands on the long written book, he’s always skipped this chapter due to the depth of his forlorn sorrow.

A pain akin to that of acknowledging the Cloud Quintet.

Dan Heng shuts his eyes, focusing on the energy of the space. Going beyond time and into a space that existed in another galaxy and happens over a 30 million life cycle… and even in this, he only has to remember one.

The one he’s actually in.

Memories of traveling the grove with her, following from when she met her people in attempts to retouch with the sky, and all until she had no choice but to merge with the heavens in a cruel hand of fate.

But he won’t linger on the tragedy.

Would this pull him into their world or pull her into his? Whatever it was, all needed was to see…

“Dannie!” Hyacine cheers.

Her.

When Dan Heng opens his eyes he’s greeted with the sight of Hyacine’s cheer stained smile and kind eyes. Her pink pig tails dipped in the color of the sky at its brightest like a paint brush jostles with her movement.

“I’m so happy to finally see you!”

Whatever it is, guilt trips him. He’s avoided reliving this for a long time. It’s only now when he’s in his most turbulence that he comes back here.

“Hyacine, I—“ Dan Heng begins the workings of an apology. However, Hyacine barrels into him, focusing on wrapping her arms around him and pushing her cheek into his sternum.

“Don’t say anymore.” She basically pleads. “It feels as if it’s been an eternity since I’ve been able to waken… to make other decisions than the ones I’ve made before.”

“… I understand.” Dan Heng takes a deep breath. Yes, it’s been a long time since Dan Heng felt so comfortable but it's been a longer time since Hyacine could make choices unbound by any script.

“You're glowing.” Hyacine pulls away and assesses him top down.

Oh… that.

Dan Heng swallows (what he should have done in the first place before he put anyone in this predicament). “You are, too.” Hyacine has always had this halo to her. Something as potent as Stelle but… different. In the way that is Hyacine.

Hyacine laughs. “But you’re glowing, more so than after taking on Terravox.”

“Are Stelle and March here, too?”

“No, it’s just me.”

Hyacine blinks. “How were you able to come here?” To the grove.

“I… it’s a long story.” Dan Heng shakes his head. “Let’s not focus on that now, I’d like to hear how you’re doing.”

He listens to her talk away, her voice as melodic as the blissful clouds on a sunny day just overcast to let the sun rays filter through. Dan Heng finds his eyes fluttering for a moment.

Peace.

Past the flurry of constantly being on the run; the stress of finding his way onto Penacony; hiding his morning illness and moody eating habits from Boothill; and past the constant anxiety revolving Ren.

“What’s wrong, Dannie? Your head’s been somewhere else. Is it with Stelle and March? Or something beyond the cosmos?” She blinks at him, the gentle tilt of her head and those multicolored cotton candy eyes being ever so inquisitive. “If that's the case I’m not sure how much I can help.” Hyacine giggles at the end of her sentence.

Dan Heng can’t help but be a little alleviated by her words. “No, it’s nothing that serious.”

He waits. He can’t find it in his heart to continue, or name a place where it began. Instead he says.

“You’re a medic beyond your years… I’ve assumed you’ve dealt with strange illnesses.”

“I suppose the strangest thing I had cured is a villager who had managed to house a colony of fungi on their head.”

Dan Heng finds himself smiling again. “I suppose what I have isn’t that strange.”

It might be worse in fact.

“… could I ask you to please look my body over? For any defects?”