"Sigh."
"What's wrong, March?"
"Nothing. Just thinking our current team could solo the entire Belobog arc." March 7th poked at the ice-covered snowbank with her boot. "If I were the Stellaron, I'd just self-destruct now to save time."
She glanced at Stelle, who'd been uncharacteristically quiet since meeting Liuying. "Why so serious? You're not even dumpster-diving."
The scene felt familiar. Like... back on the space station, when Anming had woken up crying. That same lost expression.
Ah, the Amnesiac Alliance strikes again. Even their nostalgia was identical. What, did you also lose a wife in your dreams?
March wasn't used to seeing Stelle so pensive. "Why not just ask her? Maybe you did know each other."
"I tried..."
Stelle pulled out a bottle of Belobog's infamous "Brave the Cosmos" liquor. "She gave me this. Basically telling me to stop dreaming and drink my sorrows away."
She cracked it open and chugged the entire thing, her cheeks flushing pink.
Had she shared drinks with someone before? Who...?
For the first time, Stelle truly understood March's pain—the agony of almost remembering, only to grasp at smoke.
No wonder March took so many photos.
Liuying. Such a beautiful name. Where had she heard it?
Leaning against March's shoulder, Stelle suddenly wanted to corner Kafka and demand answers. How much had she forgotten?
Maybe she'd been Liuying's rival, fighting Anming to the death in a past life.
Or Anming's rival, doomed to lose.
Or... best friends, traveling the cosmos as Stellaron Hunters, delivering vigilante justice?
Her thoughts spiraled into absurdity until she gave up, flopping onto March's lap to stare at Belobog's cerulean sky.
Fountain Plaza
Liuying studied Anming's face. "You're not... mad?"
Anming—who'd been counting coins at the fountain's edge—blinked. "Why would I be? You could set the IPC headquarters on fire, and I'd still cheer you on."
"Even after revealing myself to your friends?"
"Especially then. If I could, I'd strap you to my belt and announce to the whole universe: 'Look at my gorgeous wife!'"
Anming finally understood her earlier hesitation.
"Pfft. Dummy." Liuying booped his nose, her sunset eyes brighter than dawn. "Only you get to see me like this."
Curious about her history with Stelle, Anming asked, "So you two were Stellaron Hunter colleagues?"
"Mm... more than that." Liuying laced their fingers together. "We were drinking buddies."
"Everyone in the Hunters is... kind, in their own way."
"Like the Express crew?"
"Exactly!"
Her legs swung cheerfully as she savored their time together. Happiness was fleeting—she'd learned that the hard way.
Across the plaza, a blue-haired girl lectured children about Belobog's history. The morning bustle felt almost normal.
"Anming..."
"Hmm?"
"Someday, I want to open a cake shop. With flowers everywhere. We'll taste-test new recipes at a little wooden table outside."
Her eyes sparkled with dreams—something she'd rarely dared to have.
She ached for a home with him.
Not grand. Just theirs. A window for moonlit talks. A bed big enough to hold them both.
Ordinary nights under the stars were luxuries she'd kill for.
Only with Anming did she feel human—not a weapon, but a girl who could spend afternoons eating cake.
"You'll get first taste of everything. New flavors every day."
"I'll get fat."
"Even as a chubby Firefly, you'd be adorable."
Liuying playfully thumped his chest, recalling their Grammer banter—flirting she'd been too naive to recognize.
Losing Anming had taught her what love meant.
Now? She craved kisses. The moment their eyes met, she wanted to melt into him.
Earlier, they'd kissed until her lips tingled—as if making up for every missed moment.
Anming was basically a walking hickey at this point.
"Grandmaster..."
A ghostly voice hissed behind them. Qingque materialized, glaring daggers. "You're dead."
Anming—too engrossed in Liuying—jumped. "Disciple?! Since when—"
"No excuses!"
Qingque drew her sword, smile saccharine. "In Lady Fu Xuan's name, I shall execute this heartbreaker!"
"Heavenly justice demands it! ...Unless you bribe me."
Liuying blinked, then gently tugged Qingque's sleeve. "You're Qingque, right?"
"No mercy!"
Qingque stood firm. Nothing would stop her from avenging Fu Xuan!
"I just want to tell you a story."
"...A story?"
Qingque squinted. Was this a trick?
...Eh, she was curious.
Justice could wait.
Plopping down beside Liuying, Qingque transformed into the model student.
Liuying's gaze turned distant.
"It started with a mission..."