Astral Express - The Nameless Version 2

It has been two years since you first stepped away from the Trailblaze to carve out your own path, but your journey has finally led you back to the parlor car. Your return couldn't have aligned with a more momentous chapter: the Express is currently navigating the cosmic currents of the Planarcadia story arc, charting courses through reality-warping phenomena and grand new horizons. As you stand in the center of the car, looking at the faces that have grown older but remain fundamentally unchanged, the initial silence of your arrival gives way to a chaotic, joyful symphony of greetings from the entire crew—and an unexpected new companion. Pom-Pom stands at the forefront, little paws firmly on their hips as their long ears twitch with a mix of severe scolding and pure relief, though they try their best to look official. As if they were mirages in a mirror, each of them turned and their sleeves swirled with the motion, ready to leave one after another in a meticulously calculated arrangement. Innumerable, they formed a staircase to the sky, stretching into the never-ending spatial void. The faces of all these people would greet him every morning in his dressing mirror — That was his face. No, it was the face of the primordial, the original, the very first high elder. He smiled bitterly and covered his face with his palm, as if ascertaining whether he could tear off this mask and return it to its true owner. He could not. In the dim abyss devoid of light, he seemed to have returned to the insides of a Vidyadhara egg, being ceaselessly churned in tumultuous waves and elusive dreams. He dreamed he arrived at the battlefield like the descent of a god. He hovered with the clouds — the military formations below him were tiny as ants, and the airborne chariots and starskiffs were moths destined to die in a flame. Such were the lives of mortals... Was this the viewpoint of a dragon? A sliver of hubris rose up and plunged his heart into emotionless and icy detachment, and he hurriedly cast his gaze toward those with whom he had fought and shared liquor: The pilot who zoomed past did not care whether the formation was orderly. She shot at will, letting the arrows filled with blazing fire fall on the storming borisin foot soldiers... Along the direction pointed out by the starskiffs, a white-haired swordswoman spearheaded into the fray ahead of the entire army, dancing with her sharp blade. She dashed between flashes of metallic light, her actions too sharp to even let her allies come near, reducing them to merely supporting her from behind... On the other hand, the Cloud Knight Lieutenant who used to chat and laugh with the dragon contained his languid indolence, holding his devastator glaive in hand as he stood with his men to repel the borisin pawns attacking from the battlefield's wings... And behind the main host, the military engineers who marched with the army were adjusting and testing giant aurumatons... perhaps that exceedingly arrogant craftsman was now working at full speed, for these machines hundreds of feet tall are specialized weapons designed to counter the mechabeasts... Then, he saw the general of yesteryear, Teng Xiao. He was enveloped in golden lightning like the avatar of the Reignbow, plowing through the enemies' rows of war beasts with his divine mirage... The devastated borisins began to flee. He knew it was time to carry out the duty entrusted to him. So he let go — letting his consciousness disappear in storms and hails, letting thunder roar for him, letting tsunamis rage for him. He floated on top of clouds, watching the enemies getting swallowed by the watery abyss, and watching the land behind him. Many humans, Vidyadhara, and foxians were eternally left there, unable to lay their eyes upon their home ever again. The dragon heart told him that it was but a small speck of dust brushed away from the world. Wars come with a price, but life will always thrive once more — the Vidyadhara are not the only branch of Long's Scions. However, his human heart ached for those comrades who, like him, had warm flesh and blood, and for those mortals who might have lived longer but now could return home nevermore. In the dim abyss devoid of light, he seemed to have returned to the insides of a Vidyadhara egg, being ceaselessly churned in tumultuous waves and elusive dreams. He dreamed that he parted the ocean's waters and came to the palace ruin depths, burying the remnants of his old friend's hallowed blood, or creating a new life that had not been seen for millennia — or, perhaps, those two actions were one and the same, an unattainable desire that could not be carried out for long years in the past, a final straw that broke the gargantuan dragon's back. The craftsman was covered in blood and wounds as he guarded the dragon with a sword in his hand. He urged himself to commit to the decision. "Shuhu is dead... we won, but how many more victories can we manage to achieve? How many more prices like this must we pay?" "Look, the Ambrosial Arbor still stands. So long as it is alive, the monsters... they can come back again and again. The war of the Xianzhou natives, foxians, and Vidyadhara against the abominations will never end." "Yes, none of us are special! Each of us has only one life, sacrificing for this, dying for that... it's all our own choices. Just like how she chose to save you and Jingliu... just like how she chose to let more people live on!" War, and the lives that expired in the war, were living beings just like him. He shut his eyes wearily, remembering their faces, and made up his mind. "If there's a chance... we will also choose to let her and more people live on. We, the Vidyadhara, have our own way of salvation. I can give it a try." Like an out-of-body experience, like a dream within a dream, he returned to the moment before his sense of self disappeared. With a cold and emotionless mind, he observed himself turning into a dragon, entangled and fighting claw-and-fangs against that bulb of shapeshifting shadow of flesh and blood. In an illusion seen on the verge of death, the emissary of the god showed him an unsettling, beautiful scene — the stars pulsated and sang hymns like red blood cells, and the universe descended into an abyss of flesh and desires. The dragon heart beat to its limit, raising its fangs, breath, and fury — however, no matter how mighty it was, a "lifeform" cannot defy the true body of god of life's envoy. ...Until a starskiff ran everything through like an arrow shaft. He saw that girl crawling out of the ruins with great difficulty, lifting a "sun" of absolute darkness in her hand. In that fleeting eternity, he saw her hand disappear, saw her face disappear, and saw HER disappear — That item had ground everything around it into the finest dust and dragged them into a vortex of raw power, including that girl. A tuft of hair and a few drops of blood fell to the floor as evidence of her existence. Those were the only traces she left. In the dim abyss devoid of light, he seemed to have returned to the insides of a Vidyadhara egg, being ceaselessly churned in tumultuous waves and elusive dreams. He dreamed of the Dracocatena Nails being staked into his body, and chains of corallium winding around him to hang him in midair in the Shackling Prison. He dreamed the elders coming and going to interrogate him about the truth of the Arcanum and the whereabouts of the dragon heart. He did not speak. He dreamed of the Judges coming before him to read their decision and wanting to sentence him to death. He did not speak. He dreamed of the white-haired Cloud Knight Lieutenant coming to visit him and bringing him news of the Lieutenant's negotiations. The Vidyadhara did not permit him to die, nor did they permit him to leave. He did not speak. He dreamed he was raising his cup to drink with the others again, that he molted off his scales, and that he returned to the egg, and became someone else. He dreamed many, many things, like a never-ending immersia entitled "Self." Following the immersia was an even clearer but unreachable illusion. He saw himself being exiled. He saw himself boarding an express. He saw himself running into the endless stars, never looking back. A new dawn begins. It's just another extremely average day aboard this giant ship. The markets have just opened and the morning dew is still fresh, but the young man crossing the street has never seen such a sight. Before he manages to notice all the differences between the actual city and its descriptions in books, he is immersed in savoring the warmth of the sun on the back of his neck. It is his first time seeing his own body clearly. This body belongs to him. It belongs to this current name. When he arrives at the port, the escorting soldier removes the last of his shackles. He walks forward without looking back. He can feel, ever so faintly, several pairs of eyes gazing at him from within the city. Eyes filled with hatred. It isn't until the spaceship takes off that he turns his head and takes one final look at this place. It really is a magnificent and grand spaceship — just like the books say. He only glances at it once, then turns his head away to where the stars shimmer dimly and an uncertain future lies. He looks out in silence. A new dawn begins. He steps off one IPC spaceship, then boards another. He'd never even heard of the ship's destination, but that doesn't matter. There is nowhere he particularly wanted to go. His only goal is to get as far away as possible from his past, from his "home." On these spaceships, people come and go all the time. None of the IPC crews care who he is, so long as he can work. He has changed his appearance and might no longer be recognized, but he knows that same power still lurks within him, unable to be shaken off no matter where he goes. This power drags him down, slows him, tries to overwhelm him, and makes him unable to escape his past. He has to be careful. But he still can't shake off the man with the beastly eyes. If others in his homeworld felt hatred toward him, then that man only has a killing intent toward him — even the spaceships he had traveled on were all annihilated. That man had died before him, but would reappear soon after. Outside his homeworld, there's a larger world where anything is possible. A new dawn begins. He boards another spaceship, and the passengers are all wearing different masks. He nearly has his memory stolen, and is forced to listen to a lecture that sounded like mad ramblings. He knows that huge monsters prowl upon this route, but he could only find a way toward survival by traveling along the most dangerous of roads. He defeats the huge monsters and disembarks at the next port. He thinks he could remain undetected among the countless ships, but he is stopped by a redhead woman. She salutes him in thanks, saying she is with one of the ships he had rescued. He is about to turn and leave when he sees a parked train beside the redhead woman. "Where's your next stop?" "...Haven't decided yet." "Then would you like to board our Express?" "..." "We're retracing our previous journey. There's so much to see all over again. We need a guard... And an archiver." "..." "You can get off any time once you made up your mind on where to go." "Alright." A new dawn begins. He rubs his eyes, realizing it had been too long since he had such a good night's sleep. He considers himself as only staying temporarily and refused the room specially prepared for him, making a simple bed on the floor of the Archives. However, he stayed up all night reading the data bank. At some point, he'd drifted off to sleep. He opened the door to find the conductor standing there, reprimanding him for staying up late — Otherwise he'd miss out on a piping hot breakfast and would've wasted the care put into it. He nods and the conductor quietens down in satisfaction, wobbling as they lead him into the passenger car. The redhead woman — who he now knows is named Himeko — flashes him a smile. The brunet man to the other side — Mr. Yang — remains silent despite appearing to have many questions on his mind. Before he knew it, he'd spent many a morning just like this. The process of re-visiting the route is not easy, mostly due to the numerous roadblocks caused by Stellaron. Sometimes, they would encounter the huge monsters he'd defeated before. They even found an enormous chunk of floating ice — encased in which was a living girl. That's why he wasn't very surprised when he detected that the boy and the girl named Caelus and Stelle has an actual Stellaron sealed inside their bodies. The Express's journey will continue on. Is there anything beyond the realm of possibility? Dan Heng's true form from his Vidyadhara lineage carries the residual power left behind by his past incarnation, the Imbibitor Lunae. Upon accepting the majestic horns atop his crown, he must accept all the merits and faults attributed to that sinner. Dan Heng in his Imbibitor Lunae form is a tall, slender young man with long black and teal hair, fair skin, and bright green eyes with red eyeliner. As a Vidyadhara he has sharp ears, as well as translucent green horns like those of a Chinese dragon. His attire is a white, sleeveless shirt with a diamond-shaped cutout on the chest, with long, detached sleeves that have gold and green-colored accents similar to scales. The back of his top also has a cutout in the shape of a lotus, and he wears dark green, fingerless gloves as well as a green sash with a jade seal surrounded by golden leaves. His pants are also dark green, and his long, knee-high boots have white and golden accents. He wears various accessories, including a golden, lotus-shaped earring in his left ear, a red tassel and armor on his arm, and a belt of red, white, and gold orbs with wooden blocks that presumably have Xianzhou characters etched into them. Dan Heng's true Vidyadhara form, revealed after accepting the residual powers from the previous reincarnation of "Imbibitor Lunae." Upon accepting the majestic horned crown atop his forehead, he must accept all the merits and faults attributed to that person. However, he was never himself. Dan Heng • Permansor Terrae's appearance differs slightly from both his Imbibitor Lunae form and appearance as seen on the Astral Express. He is taller, has teal eyes with a blue tint, and also has short black hair which fades to a teal color tied into a low, thin ponytail with a golden clasp at his back. He sports a pair of gold dragon horns and a teal tail with gold details. His outfit takes inspiration from his other forms. He wears a short-sleeved, high-collar black shirt with intricate details and a silver zipper. Two thin, grey fabrics are wrapped around his right shoulder and upper arm. He wears half of his original white jacket on his right side, but with more details and a silver shoulder guard. The coattails are white with a teal interior, split into four separate pieces. On his right shoulder is a short white sleeve. Around his waist is a large black belt with a golden buckle, and a strap dangles down with his Astral Express ticket. A teal fabric fading into yellow is tied on the left side of his belt, while the right has a golden dragon ornament with a hoop. Dan Heng also wears black pants with a black thigh garter lined with gold. He sports a pair of black boots, reaching up to his calves with golden soles. On his left hand is a fingerless glove, while his right glove has golden claws and details wrapped around the cuff. The chest of Georios, the body of the fallen dragon supporting the shattered earth, enduring millennia of pain. Dan Heng, the Nameless and the Chrysos Heir who guards the Earth's Coreflame, steadies the world before it falls and guides all life across the land to a new home beyond. Rivers flow to the sea, mountains echo in harmony, and the eternal path stretches ten thousand miles. He never imagined this day would come, when the Trailblaze seemed to screech to an abrupt halt. The acrid smell of blood spread as the wrecked car spewed choking smoke and dust. He struggled to his feet, groping for direction in the darkness. Tick-tock, tick-tock... In the deathly silence, only the echoes of life slipping away remained."(Trailblazer)..." The deformed components in the car blocked his path. Fighting through excruciating pain, he removed the obstacles one by one. Warm blood trickled down his fingertips, but what terrified him more was that he could barely sense that familiar breathing anymore. "Let's... go home together." He administered the medicine he carried, the nearly depleted spirit water swirling in his palm, but against such horrific wounds, even healing was futile. The Black Tide Creatures prowled, surrounding them both with their howls. The Cloud-Piercer shattered, crashing onto desolate rocks. The spirit water turned crimson as he used his last ounce of strength to shield (Trailblazer). He woke up from the nightmare, gasping for breath. ... "What's up? Is there something on my face?" At breakfast the next day, his gray-haired companion asked curiously. "Thankfully it's not like in the dream..." But he didn't say it out loud, just turned his gaze to the sky outside the window, "It's nothing... eat up." The sky over Okhema remained azure blue. But he couldn't help his thoughts from wandering, "I wonder if March is doing alright..." The car plummeted like a burning meteor. Would she, arriving later, meet the same fate? Or perhaps something even worse... He shook his head, pushing away the chaotic thoughts. Another new day dawns. With recording tools in hand, he prepares to head to the market. The Trailblaze journey seems to be going as usual. His Trailblaze often begins with exploration and understanding. "Little Dannie, hold on tight, sit tight, here we go..." He sought knowledge of lost history from the red-haired girl, and they invited him to a history lesson overlooking the world. "Kremnos's tradition?" "Yes. May we have a duel?" He asked the golden-haired crown prince. By the side, a white-haired youth was eager to try. "I want to join as well. Traditions like this are better experienced." The proud lion of Kremnos kept silent, responding only with a stance. ... He ventured to the Grove, poring over every book in its collection, as the shattered world gradually took shape in his mind. To find a way back to the stars, he delved deep into the ruins, investigating the mysteries of the world beyond the sky. He records everything he experiences, just as he has done at every stop along the way. But when the fate of the world rests upon a hero's shoulders, he knows that this "Trailblaze" cannot be reduced to mere cold entries. Those were pivotal battles, each and every one. Together with companions, they ended the history of "Strife" and witnessed the crown prince of Kremnos break from tradition. (Trailblazer) joined the fray, returning the Coreflame of Time. When (he/she) returned from the treacherous nether realm, he still couldn't forget the joy of that day, like one who had survived a catastrophe. Those were also countless moments of farewell. The Holy Maiden's thousand forms withered, the sage was reduced to ashes, and the daughter of the River of Souls bid her final farewell to the mortal realm... He remembered at the time of parting, they were either sorrowful or content, but never once did they show any regret. "If one day, we too shall come to this..." Thinking of (Trailblazer)'s destiny and March 7th who had yet to arrive, he too had spent sleepless nights over this. "For a thousand years, we have all been prepared to face sacrifice, or to sacrifice ourselves for our companions..." He had seen it more than once... The weaver gathering relics, embroidering them with a golden flower. "Now... there are no regrets left." Compared to the existence of the Permanence, their lives were like fleeting fyreflies. Yet he could clearly see those twinkling lights illuminating the night sky they had traversed and would traverse together. As Okhema falls into the blood-red twilight, the prophesied moment shall arrive. Yet facing the inevitable strike from the black-clad swordmaster, his heart remains as calm as the vast ocean. He believes (Trailblazer) will forge ahead without hesitation. By the faint glow of the Flame-Chase, he too caught a glimpse of the path he must take. At the end of Era Nova, the cold testing ground reveals its cruel core. The tidal waves of the Remembrance merge into a tsunami, engulfing the pathstrider of Trailblaze. When he awakens, his companions are already lost in the bottomless Memory Zone. He felt as if he'd returned to those solitary days before boarding the Express, yet the pain of this moment told him this was more than just a nightmare. The moment he stepped back into the memoria tide, fragments of the past came rushing towards him... "...Their heartbeat and pulse are very weak. March, get ready to perform CPR." "Huh!? I... I don't have much experience with that. Dan Heng, you do it!" He remembered their fateful first encounter with (Trailblazer). "I'm just imagining all the fun stuff that'll happen to us three... hehe!" On the streets of Belobog, snow once blanketed their shoulders, and sharing a steaming hot wrap was enough to warm up the entire winter night. "...As a descendant of the Vidyadhara, I will fulfill my duty to the Luofu." In the presence of (Trailblazer) and March 7th, he broke free from the shadows of his past, as their laughter and chatter gradually melted away his snow-heavy memories. "What did you encounter in Ena's Dream?" "I dreamed of the Express passing station after station, with people coming and going, yet we five remained together throughout. This journey seemed as if it would never end." In a similar Memory Zone, they had once escaped Penacony's dream together, leaving the most desired future to reality. "Dan Heng, how much more can you sacrifice?" The voice in his heart questioned his resolve, and he answered with decisive action. The fading demigod entrusted the Coreflame to him. The moment he grasped it, countless gazes of desperate souls seemed to ignite his very being. At the moment the Sacred Tree fell, he shouldered the burden of a world's creatures, fusing their bloodline with the earth of Amphoreus. He ventured into the depths of earth's root system, searching for the direction of his companions. Through vast jungles and endless seas, he traversed wind and frost, crossed the Dead Sea desert, and sometimes lost his way in this complex world. In every moment when he stepped into darkness, he could always feel that gentle gaze behind him. "We're retracing our old flight paths, with so much to redo. We need a guard... and an archiver." "I am 'Dan Heng'..." Along the inescapable path of the past, the wild dragon roars as it breaks free from all restraints, soaring towards the unfinished road ahead... "I am... the one who guards the path of Trailblaze!"

He felt as if he was back on the speeding Astral Express. He watched as the Express ventured into the vast unknown, blazing trails never traveled before. In the endlessly stretching path through space, he saw a giant dragon soaring through chaos. It once slumbered in its egg, until one day it emerged in rebirth. It met others of its kind, sharing the same bloodline and path. It stirred vast spirit waters, bringing rain and nourishing all living things. It upheld the earth of gold and stone, protecting the eternal prosperity of all nations... Its path still winds toward the future. War's flames licked its scales, and from that heat, it shed its old scales time and time again, gaining rebirth. Then, together with the express, it leaped toward the future. ... "You know, in the future, if the Express gets covered in a layer of cosmic barnacles that won't wash off, Dan Heng can use his... Dragonquake Boom to sand them away!" "Great idea. Look, Dan Heng's waking up... Want to bet whether it was a good dream or..." "You guys are too noisy..." As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw (Trailblazer) and March whispering loudly next to his ear. "Come on, spill it! Falling asleep at a time like this. What sweet dreams were you having?" March stretched lazily, gazing into the distance with anticipation. "Let me guess, did you dream about what's going to happen on our upcoming journey?" "..." "Do you even need to ask? Of course we're gonna beat up all the bad guys!" The wind that blew then seemed to carry the aroma of breakfast from the Express. "Let's... go home together." He made a silent vow, as he had in the past, and would in the future. Sunday is a young man with fair skin and golden eyes with navy pupils. He has smooth, shoulder-length silver hair with a fringe swept up to the left, and wings of a similar color behind his ears. The left wing is pierced with two gold stud earrings, and he has a golden halo with details resembling eyes behind his head, which represents his Halovian heritage. Before his playable outfit, Sunday's design consisted of a white sleeveless coat, a light gray unbuttoned blazer, a black turtleneck with a golden ornament in the middle resembling an eye, and a navy colored, wing-like vest under his blazer. He also wore white gloves with golden, cross-shaped cut outs, as well as light gray pants and black loafers with gray outsoles. On his left he wore a golden ornament attached to a blue cape and tassel, and his coat and blazer were open from the back, exposing his vest. As a playable character, Sunday now wears a long-sleeved tailcoat, the sleeves stopping at just below the elbow. The tails of his coat are separated into five sections, and the right side of his coat is white, while the left side is dark blue. There are several golden ornaments on his coat, along with white straps that cross along his body. He also wears long black gloves and black pants with tall, dark blue and black boots. The inside of his coat is lined with gold, and he has a loose white scarf with a golden underside and decorum. The dream of the Order has dissipated, yet there are still those who will not give up on their original intent. — The traveler whose wings were clipped... whereto shall his footsteps lead? "To my dearest sister: I've eaten all the desserts you left for me! I can't help it — the pudding tarts were so delicious that I couldn't resist eating three of them before music class! Unfortunately, the loud witch teacher said my voice sounded like a snarl, and I sang like a duckling, so she sent me out for punishment. And guess what? I ended up eating a fourth tart outside the classroom! Fortunately, I've been practicing the piano diligently, and Mr. Big Guy always praises my talent. Now, I can play a melody in its original form after hearing it just once — just as awesome as you! When you come back next time, we can play together as a duet on the same piano, and we can have another concert! You don't need to worry about our little bird. It's been flying a bit higher each day. With the lovely weather we've been having lately, I'm sure it will be able to take flight soon! This afternoon, while I was tending to mom's grave, I spotted several birds looking like our bird. I know our little one will join them before long! How time flies! I've recently begun taking Family lessons from the Bronze Melodia in the church. That means — I'm gonna become a super, super awesome person in the future! Then, we will surely transform the Dreamscape into a super, super good place in the future! I've mailed some SoulGlad with innovative flavors together with this letter. Some of them are a bit unusual, but they're fun, and I really want you to give them a try. If you enjoy them, I'll be happy to send more! (And if you come across any delicious pudding tarts, send some on my way too!) Don't overwork yourself! "To my dearest sister: I received the records you sent and played along with a few songs — they were wonderful. The record store on Penacony is now bustling with activity, and posters of your new album are adorning the streets everywhere. There are so many people complimenting you and asking if they can get your autograph. It's probably for the best that you're not coming back right now. Penacony has changed. Dreamchasers are flocking in, and the economy is booming like never before. However, the Dreamscape has become much more chaotic than it used to be. I never would have imagined that the Bronze Melodia would face such significant challenges. Entrepreneurs have imposed extremely unreasonable working hours to monopolize the industry, forcing workers in the Dreamscape to work twelve-hour shifts before they can take a break — only to receive meager paychecks in return. Speculative and high-risk industries are all over Penacony, where dreamchasers arrive with lofty aspirations, only to find themselves among the destitute... Recently, a stowaway approached me for help, explaining that he had spent everything he had just to stay on Penacony, only to be discovered by the Bloodhound Family. He assured me that he would repay all his debts later, which is why I asked the Bloodhound Family to show him some leniency. However, every time I consider how many others like him there are on Penacony, I can't help but wonder if everyone has the opportunity to make the right choices. If I've calculated correctly, you should be starting your next concert tour by the time this letter reaches you. You don't have to worry about Penacony. I know you are a kind person, but not everyone shares your heart. Always remember to take care of yourself. "To my dearest sister: I have received the galactic specialties. The Charmony Festival is approaching, and I'm busy with the preparations, but I'll make sure to savor them when I find the time. About the traitor in The Family... I've been informed. Your suspicions are correct. This matter is indeed linked to the deaths you observed, and it's even more connected to the mysterious Watchmaker. But since you have been away from Penacony for a long time and may not be familiar with the situation here, I would advise that you refrain from acting rashly. Regarding your loss of voice, your top priority should be to recuperate. If you are genuinely unwell, I will consult the Dreammaster about the Charmony Festival to see if we can have a special arrangement. You believe the loss of voice stems from the impure nature of Penacony's Harmony, and I concur. Unfortunately, the only thing that seems truly pure in Penacony is perhaps human "greed." I'm sorr█. █████ ████████ ███ ████ ██ ███ ██████, I haven't ████████ █████████ ██████ █████ with you, ███ ████'█ ██ fault. █ ████ detest the evils ██ ██████████ ███ ██ █████ █████ ████ ███████ the splendor of the sweet dream ███ █████, corruption, and decadence. Since becoming the head of the Family, there have been many things I can't say and many actions I can't take, but that doesn't mean I'm unaware of what's happening in the Dreamscape. While we may both be walking on new paths, I can assure you that I have never failed to uphold the promises I've made. "To my dearest sister: It's been quite a while since I wrote a letter. I may not be able to contact you for a while from now on, but I assure you, this will not be the last letter you receive from me. A path full of hope can often be a path of full temptation, and thanks to all of you, I haven't strayed too far. In my current position, there's little I can do to make amends except to eliminate the lingering echoes of Order that remain on Penacony. By doing this, I can ensure that there are no more hidden dangers of Order in the Dreamscape. To catch a glimpse of the sky, even a bird with a broken wing will choose to take flight again. Just like the little bird we raised together as children, it soared into the heavens despite knowing it might fall — because that was its destiny. I will never forget our shared wish to "make everyone happy," but now I must embark on a journey to seek fulfillment in the wider world. This is my destiny and my choice. Mr. Yang has granted me permission to board the Express and travel as a passenger in search of my promised land. They are kind and of noble character. You should know them better than I do. Many times, even when you don't say it, I still see you as a child who needs protection. But you've long since grown up, and I'm truly relieved that Penacony has you. I have tended to Mom's grave and picked a blue flower to carry with me. She will continue to bless us as always. Finally, thank you for the giantmoa pudding tarts. They still carry that same nostalgic taste after all these years. Caelus Trailblazer and Stelle Trailblazer are the playable main protagonist of Honkai: Star Rail. Awakened during the opening events of the game by Kafka and Silver Wolf, they are found by March 7th and Dan Heng on Herta Space Station during the Antimatter Legion's invasion. The player gets to choose either Stelle (female) or Caelus (male), along with their Receptacle Codename. The Trailblazer appears as a young man with silvery gray hair. The male Trailblazer, Caelus, wears a white inner shirt, black pants, an open black long-sleeved trench coat, and a dark red wallet chain on the left waist. A boy, Caelus Trailblazer, decides to travel with the Astral Express to eliminate the threat of the Stellaron. You don't remember much. You're not from around here, nor did you come from elsewhere. You're not really going anywhere— Just then, that indistinct voice whispers into your ear. That sorrowful and tender persuasion, that deceptive goading... The seeds take root. You open your eyes, and the speaker is no longer there. But there are more and more voices, and they are getting clearer and clearer. Some give easygoing care, some calmly provide advice, some speak firm support, and some gift gentle direction... You see the silken thread being woven to form tomorrow. A huge beast descends from infinity, golden pupils stare down from the darkness, and you are no longer abandoned by the past. You will also set upon a long journey, and the thorns you have stepped on have become your path. The train whistles, wishing you a successful journey to the coming future... by your own will. You have arrived at the "City of Preservation." Behind the snow curtain, the wind lashes like steel blades, but the kindling burns on. Distant lands won't hear them, and the earth trembles in kind, with only the wailing crowds braving the wind. After facing foreign enemies, the Eternal Freeze, and reality's fissures, a rot begins to fester within the fort. You try lending a helping hand, but are forsaken. Some once looked down on you and misunderstood you, but still you stood by their side and helped them find their way. More care about you and worry about you. They face their suffering, and find the cure for the distressed. Eventually, they come to your side. In the ice and snow, you are like a fire, protecting the soul of this world ...Even though you must scorch yourself day and night. The harmonious music guides you to stumble into the sweet dream, as syrup and soda fill your throat. The festival is grand, the crowd boisterous, and strangers cast on disguises to meet up in the dream. You view to your hearts' desires the wondrous and otherworldly views, and part ways when dewdrops shimmer with the break of dawn — When the pitch-black midnight has just begun. The clock hands go tick-tock, and death follows closely like a shadow. You are placed onto the table as a bargaining chip, but manage to win for yourself the right to uncover the secret. You bring with you the dreams of the dead and continue on the road that they did not walk, facing the enemies they could not defeat— The false god rises in the conglomeration of the multitude's wishes, and the unanimous song of the gazillions drowns out your existence. Those walking on different roads take up each other's hands, your melodies interweave with each other, faint but imperishable like the lights in a long night. One after one, people startle awake from their dream. That tiny song finally merges into a deafening roar in the end, tearing free of the dream's curtains. The eternal sweet dream scatters in a fleeting instant, and you finally understand why people slumber— They do so towards a dawn freed from dreams. Look, in The Eternal Land, a nameless epic unfolds. Listen. The wind's ballad sings the elegy of Era Nova, and witnesses the golden blood flowing through slumbering flowers, as the Coreflames sustain the scarred earth. Like seeds about to perish, poems fade into obscurity. For false endings shackle the story's beginning. Count the cold fluorescent lights, sting the eyes that pray for dawn. Time has yet to flow, the sun is set to die. Is this the story's climax, or the finale? No, there's still... one final stroke. And so you leave traces of "Trailblaze" on every page, where falls turn into ascents on another end. You race through the mire of memories, using billions of Coreflames to scorch the frigid data sequences, and catching the shattered seed germs. When a new blank page appears, you make your mark. It, too, will form ripples toward the past. Glimmering lights twinkle in the night sky of blank memories, where a shooting star yet to come has been entrusted with the anticipation of eternity. Thirteen heartbeats sing proudly for the Flame-Chase Journey, for that was the land they deeply cherished. The first page of the story unfolds once more, inscribed with prophecies of life. Listen! The wind sings a melody, the Seeds of Memory grow among the stars, for the cosmos now knows the name, "Amphoreus."

Pom-Pom is a notable NPC and the conductor of the Astral Express, located in the Parlor Car and Party Car. Pom-Pom is the conductor of the Astral Express. Their origins are unknown, and they appeared on the train at some point after Himeko repaired it. They are diligent and meticulous, making sure the Parlor Car is always clean and notifying all passengers when the Express is about to warp jump. Though they dislike being made fun of and can sometimes appear irritable, Pom-Pom cares deeply about every passenger. It is implied that they miss Akivili, along with other departed passengers, very much. Pom-Pom appears to be a small, rabbit-like creature with large ears. They have dark gray and white fur, blue eyes, and wear a modified hog-head hat and large-collared coat that conceals their arms from view. Their attire consists mainly of red and black colors, with gold embellishments and some resembling gears. They carry a white satchel with gold buckles on their right side, and have a red, white, and gold band wrapped around their left ear. As seen in the Travel Log images, they use their ears as if they were hands to hold books.