Chapter 77: March 7th is Loudly Saying 'Z' to Pretend She's Asleep
The heavy tip of the fountain pen scratched rhythmically against the thick parchment. Bronya signed her name with practiced elegance, the ink gleaming under the warm office lights.
"Please accept this agreement," she said, sliding the document across the polished mahogany desk. "As the nineteenth Supreme Guardian of Belobog, Jarilo-VI, I fully authorize the Astral Express to carry out the planet's ecological restoration."
March 7th leaned over the desk, her bright pink eyes blinking rapidly at the freshly stamped seal.
"Is it really going this smoothly?" she asked, her voice laced with genuine disbelief. "Were there no... you know, loud voices of opposition from those grumpy old nobles?"
Bronya offered a faint, weary smile. "There were objections, naturally. However... I will persuade those with reasonable concerns." Her expression cooled, taking on the sharp edge of a true ruler. "As for the unreasonable ones, their protests simply provide excellent grounds for their immediate liquidation." She shook her head, massaging her temples. "Under the previous Supreme Guardian's rule, the ministers accumulated an astonishing amount of dirt. Just looking at the blackmail files is enough to trigger a migraine."
Rekka clapped his hands together, breaking the heavy political tension with a cheerful grin. "Alright then! Let's get things prepped. This will be quick, painless, and highly entertaining."
High above the frozen atmosphere of Jarilo-VI, the fabric of reality warped and groaned. A massive spatial rift tore open, bleeding the chaotic, neon-violet hues of the Sea of Quanta into the cold void of real space. The Hyperion slid out from the dimensional tear, its massive hull gleaming as it positioned itself just outside the planet's aetherial crystal barrier.
Back on the bridge, Rekka sat comfortably in the captain's chair, flipping through a thick, heavily illustrated binder. It was a dummy-proof operation manual he had thoughtfully written for himself during one of his brief, hyper-intelligent stints on the Path of Erudition. He followed the instructions step by agonizingly simple step.
To call the manual dummy-proof was an understatement. It was designed with the insulting precision of a caregiver spoon-feeding a toddler, then manually moving their jaw up and down to ensure they chewed properly. It even included warning labels about not drinking the engine coolant. It was the kind of manual that even March 7th could operate with her eyes closed and one hand tied behind her back.
Rekka slammed a large, flashing red button. An invisible, low-frequency force field pulsed from the underbelly of the Hyperion. It swept across the entire ice-covered globe like a stone skipping over a calm pond. Because Rekka had specifically calibrated the spatial parameters to leave a microscopic gap, the massive aetherial crystal barrier encasing the world began to compress, shrinking perfectly in tandem with the planet itself.
A deep, mechanical hum vibrated through the deck plates.
[Capture successful.] the ship's AI chimed in a crisp, synthetic tone.
Rekka casually reached out and picked up a square, transparent container resting on the console. Inside, suspended in a zero-gravity stasis field, floated the entirety of Jarilo-VI. It was no larger than a snow globe. He tapped a small silver button on the base, instantly projecting a high-definition holographic feed that displayed real-time, microscopic surveillance of the citizens going about their day in Belobog.
"See?" Rekka smirked, tossing the container lightly from hand to hand. "Efficiency at its finest."
Inside the miniature world, tiny wisps of cloud drifted lazily over the frozen continents. The snow-covered wasteland reflected a soft, ethereal glow under the container's simulated starlight, while the aetherial crystal barrier wrapped around the globe like a shell of translucent amber.
March 7th leaned over the console, her nose practically squished against the reinforced glass of the container. Her breath fogged the surface.
"This doesn't look real at all," she whispered, her eyes wide with childlike wonder.
She extended a hesitant finger, tapping twice against the smooth glass. Clink. Clink.
"Do the people inside really not feel anything?" she asked, glancing between the snow globe and the holographic feed. "I mean, look at them. The passersby in the projection are just buying sausages and arguing over prices like normal. Won't they notice the sky suddenly went dark? Or that the ground beneath their feet feels a bit... artificial?"
"Of course not. The spatial compression isolates their perception of reality. To them, the sun is still shining right where it's supposed to be." Rekka tucked the planet under his arm like a football. "Come on, let's head back to the Astral Express. I can't wait to show this to Uncle Yang, Sister Himeko, Dan Heng, and the Conductor. It's going to blow their minds."
In the cozy warmth of the Parlor Car, Welt Yang's hand froze halfway to his mouth.
The fragrant steam rising from his Earl Grey tea curled around his rigid knuckles. He stared unblinking at the transparent container sitting innocuously on the coffee table, his usually composed features caught in a rare state of total paralysis.
A long, heavy silence stretched across the lounge.
"...Say that again," Welt finally managed, his voice dangerously calm. "What exactly is this?"
"Jarilo-VI," Rekka replied cheerfully, tapping the glass. "I just packed it up into a to-go box and brought it back."
Himeko set her black coffee down on the saucer with a soft clatter. She leaned forward, her vibrant red hair cascading over her shoulder as she brought her face closer to the miniature globe. Her sharp, intelligent gaze swept over the swirling micro-storms, eventually locking onto the translucent aetherial crystal barrier encasing the world.
"And what about the Interastral Peace Corporation's fleet?" she asked, her tone a mix of amusement and genuine curiosity.
"Still spacing out in orbit, I assume." Rekka offered a nonchalant shrug, dropping onto the plush sofa. "Right about now, their commanders are probably having a very panicked, very loud meeting about why their target planet just vanished from all radar systems."
Pom-Pom stood on their tiptoes, their short, fluffy arms clinging desperately to the edge of the coffee table. The Conductor's long ears twitched as they stared at the tiny, floating world.
"Once the environment is fully restored, we can put it back right where we found it, right?" Pom-Pom asked, looking up at Rekka for confirmation.
Dan Heng stood near the archives door, his arms crossed over his chest. He leaned his weight against the back of the sofa, a rare, subtle crack in his usual stoic mask betraying his intrigue.
"And how exactly do you plan to restore an entire planetary ecosystem from a coffee table?"
"Oh, that's the easy part." Rekka dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, carefully carved silver cube. "Behold, the Ecological Restoration Device. I slapped this together on a whim during one of my Erudition phases. It accelerates cellular plant growth, scrubs toxic elements from the atmosphere, and perfectly regulates global temperature and humidity." He tossed the cube in his palm. "We just drop this bad boy inside the container, let it run on autopilot for a few days, and the planet will thaw out into a perfectly habitable paradise."
Welt slowly took off his wire-rimmed glasses, pulled a microfiber cloth from his vest, and methodically wiped the lenses. He placed them back on his face, letting out a long, weary sigh.
"The sheer, unbridled creativity of young people today is truly... terrifyingly astonishing."
Stelle had completely abandoned her seat. She was currently squatting on the rug right beside the table, her golden eyes locked onto the swirling snow globe in an unblinking, intense stare.
"Can I touch it?" she asked, her voice flat but vibrating with suppressed excitement.
"Knock yourself out," Rekka said. "Just be careful. Don't drop it. Dropping a planet usually voids the warranty."
Stelle extended a cautious hand. Her fingertips brushed against the cool, smooth outer wall of the container. The miniature planet rotated lazily in front of her, the faint, golden glow of the aetherial crystal barrier reflecting in her wide eyes.
"So pretty," she murmured, completely mesmerized.
March 7th shimmied closer, leaning over Stelle's shoulder to poke the glass herself.
"It really is pretty," she agreed, watching a microscopic blizzard swirl over Belobog. "It just feels a bit weird, you know? Thinking about all those millions of people living their entire lives inside a box on our table."
"What they don't know won't hurt them." Rekka leaned back against the plush cushions, lacing his fingers behind his head. "Besides, stepping up and helping others when you have the power to do so—isn't that the whole point of being a Trailblazer?"
"Well said." Himeko offered a warm, maternal smile, looking around at the gathered crew. "Let us allow this world to rejuvenate under our careful watch. However, it is getting quite late. Everyone should head back to their cabins and get some rest. By tomorrow morning, we should be able to see the first patches of green breaking through the snow."
"Oh, before I forget," Rekka sat up, looking at the navigator. "Sister Himeko, does the Astral Express's databank still have the old navigation logs? Specifically, the holographic topographical projections of Jarilo-VI from a thousand years ago, before the Eternal Freeze?"
Himeko raised an elegant eyebrow. "You want to replicate its original, pre-disaster geography?"
"Exactly."
"Give me just a moment. I will pull up the archival records."
Himeko tapped her datapad, projecting a glowing, verdant blueprint of the ancient planet into the air. Rekka nodded repeatedly, his eyes darting between the projection and his silver cube. He began twisting the complex dials on the Ecological Restoration Device, fine-tuning the terraforming parameters to match the historical data perfectly.
Watching him work with such precise foresight, Welt couldn't help but wonder—was this absurdly flawless execution actually part of Rekka's calculations all along?
The Parlor Car was bathed in the dim, ambient lighting of the Express's night cycle. At the stroke of midnight, the door to the passenger cabins slid open with a soft hiss.
March 7th poked her head out, her pink hair a messy bedhead halo. She looked left. She looked right.
Not a single soul in sight. Perfect!
She tiptoed down the corridor, feeling like a master stealth operative, until a gentle voice shattered the silence.
"Little March, what exactly are you doing?"
Himeko's elegant figure had materialized silently from the shadows, a cup of late-night coffee resting in her hands.
March 7th jumped nearly a foot into the air, her heart leaping into her throat. She spun around, a guilty, panicked grin plastered across her face.
"Hi... Sister Himeko! I... uh... I'm sleepwalking! Yep! Totally sleepwalking right now!"
Without missing a beat, she dramatically threw herself onto the carpeted floor, closed her eyes tight, and opened her mouth.
"Zzzzzzzzzz..." she vocalized, loudly and aggressively pronouncing the letter 'Z' in a desperate bid to fake unconsciousness.
Himeko stared down at the girl sprawled on the rug, her lips twitching with suppressed amusement. "Sleepwalkers do not typically lie on the floor shouting 'Zzz' at the top of their lungs, Little March."
"Zzzzzzz..." March 7th remained stubbornly undeterred. She fully committed to the bit, aggressively rolling over onto her side to face away from the navigator, her vocalized snoring growing even louder.
Deciding to play along, Himeko didn't expose the terrible acting. Instead, she gracefully crouched down beside the sleeping girl, leaning in close.
"Then, sleepwalking Little March," she whispered softly, "can you tell me where your subconscious is trying to go?"
"..."
The loud 'Zzz' abruptly cut off for a solid second. Then, realizing she had paused, March quickly resumed. "Zzzzzzz!"
Himeko couldn't hold back a soft, melodic laugh. She reached out and gently poked March 7th right in her ticklish waist.
"Ahaha—don't! Don't poke me, Sister Himeko!"
March 7th bounced up from the carpet as if a high-voltage switch had been flipped. She clutched her sides, jumping a few feet away. Her face burned bright red, completely radiating the overwhelming guilt of a thief caught red-handed.
"So, why are you still awake at this hour? Where were you sneaking off to?" Himeko stood up, crossing her arms beneath her chest. She looked down at the archer with a beaming, knowing smile. "Did you want to go check on Jarilo-VI in the Parlor Car?"
"Ye... yeah. Exactly." March 7th guiltily averted her gaze, staring very intensely at a random scuff mark on the wall.
It was a blatant lie. In reality, she had quietly crawled out of bed in the dead of night to raid the Express's fridge for more of that new fruit juice. That stuff was dangerously delicious. Once you took the first sip, you couldn't stop, and the more you drank, the more you craved it. She was practically going through sugar withdrawal.
"Hmm. That is perfectly normal," Himeko hummed, her eyes softening. "After all, watching a planet's life force being restored, little by little, right before your very eyes... it truly is a wonderful, miraculous thing. Since neither of us can sleep, why don't we go watch it together?"
Hearing that Sister Himeko wasn't going to press the issue of her terrible fake sleepwalking—or investigate her true, juice-stealing motives—March 7th's rigidly tense shoulders instantly slumped. She exhaled a long, dramatic breath of relief.
"O-okay!" she chirped, her usual bubbly energy returning in a flash.
She quickly jogged the remaining distance into the Parlor Car, huddling beside the coffee table. To sell her alibi, she immediately pressed her face close to the transparent container, staring intently at the tiny, swirling clouds and microscopic snowdrifts without blinking.
'That was way too close,'she thought, sweating bullets.'I almost got a full-blown lecture. Thank the Aeons Sister Himeko didn't look any further into it...'
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