"The coordinates are nearby."
A cute, pink-haired girl, vibrant as if entangled fate itself had taken form, dashed through the space station's long corridors, heading towards the received coordinates.
The girl's name was March 7th, a member of the Astral Express crew.
The space station had fallen under attack by the Antimatter Legion. March 7th and her companion, Dan Heng, had been entrusted by Station Master Asta to venture deep into the Legion-occupied sectors and rescue the trapped station personnel.
To cover more ground efficiently, the two had decided to temporarily split up their search. However, they unexpectedly received rescue coordinates partway through and immediately hurried over without a moment's pause.
"This is... the Curio Room?"
Muttering softly, March 7th and Dan Heng exchanged a glance before quickly rushing inside.
Encouragingly, the Curio Room didn't appear to have been attacked, and better yet, there was a survivor inside.
"Hi..."
March 7th had just stepped inside, ready to greet the survivor, when she realized the scene before her felt distinctly... off.
A grey-haired young man knelt on the floor, his expression utterly grief-stricken, looking as though he was on the very verge of tears. His eyes, shimmering faintly with unshed moisture, were fixed on a grey-haired girl who lay completely still, like a sleeping beauty who showed no reaction.
Completely lost in his own world, the young man seemed oblivious to their arrival. His hands gripped the girl's shoulders, shaking her desperately in an attempt to wake her.
"Stelle~!"
"Stelle~!"
"Wake... UP!"
His cries echoed like calls bouncing through an empty valley, sorrowful and lingering long after. The grief woven into his voice was so palpable it could make any listener's heart ache, any onlooker weep. March 7th almost felt like she was hearing her own great-grandmother calling out to her.
Seeing this, March 7th quickly covered her mouth. Dan Heng, following close behind, couldn't help but let his brow furrow slightly at the sight.
They were too late... Another tragic parting brought by death.
The Antimatter Legion's assault had been ferocious, relentless as wolves and tigers unleashed, and the space station had already suffered significant casualties.
This wasn't the first such farewell March 7th had witnessed today; she could only desperately hope it would be the last.
Watching the inconsolably sobbing young man, March 7th could clearly see the heart-wrenching anguish etched onto his handsome features.
That grey-haired girl must have been incredibly, incredibly important to him, right?
Even March 7th could tell from their clothing, hair color, and the almost tangible similarity between them that the two were likely related by blood. Brother and sister? Or perhaps younger brother and older sister?
Hearing his heart-rending cries, March 7th felt a pang of sadness herself. Biting her lip, she walked over to Qiong's side and gently patted the young man's shoulder.
"Please, try to accept this... I'm sorry for your loss. Perhaps we've come at a terrible time, but the Antimatter Legion is still roaming nearby. It isn't safe here..."
The hand resting on his shoulder seemed to break the young man out of his tear-choked immersion in grief. He looked up, slightly dazed and vacant, fresh tears still tracing warm paths down from the corners of his eyes.
"I'm March 7th, and this is Dan Heng. We were sent by Station Master Asta to help with the rescue..."
March 7th lowered her gaze, feeling a pang of guilt despite knowing it wasn't truly her fault. If only she and Dan Heng had managed to arrive sooner, perhaps this tragedy could have been prevented.
"Sorry... we were too late."
"No!"
Hearing the word 'late', the grey-haired young man snapped his head up as if jolted by an electric shock, a fierce flame seeming to ignite within his golden eyes.
"I won't let Stelle leave me like this!"
"I'm going to resurrect her!"
"Huh?" At his words, March 7th's clear eyes instantly widened. "Resurrect?"
Dan Heng frowned immediately, his gaze sharpening with sudden vigilance. Wanting to resurrect someone simply because you couldn't bear their loss... this situation felt familiar, and dangerous...
"Sir, I understand how you must feel, but you have to know, the dead cannot return to life." He took a step forward, attempting to gently guide the young man away from straying down a perilous path, perhaps even into heresy.
"No, there must be a way!" Intense emotion and an unshakeable obsession flared in his golden eyes; Qiong didn't seem to have heard Dan Heng at all. "On my home planet, a 'senior' known as the Sage of the Lost Wife left behind a secret art, a legend passed down that says the souls of the departed can be called back."
The word 'resurrect' had already put Dan Heng on high alert; the mention of a 'secret art' instantly triggered all the warning signs. Dan Heng almost drew his Cloud-Piercer right then and there!
Qiong's gaze—a turbulent mixture of despair, pain, and raw obsession—caused fragmented memory shards to flicker deep within Dan Heng's mind. Although he firmly believed in his heart that he was no longer the person he once was, he could still sense 'his' unforgettable, deeply ingrained sorrow. Precisely because of that, he absolutely refused to stand by and let something similar happen again before his very eyes.
Dan Heng's hand, gripping his spear tightly, remained hidden behind his back, poised and ready. If the man before him showed even the slightest sign of the Abundance's power or displayed any related artifacts, he would immediately unleash 'Cloudlancer Art: Torrent'!
But Qiong's next words made his poised hand freeze instantly.
"You just need to write a novel about true love where you insert yourself as the protagonist, make it famous across the entire galaxy, then sponsor a female university student, genuinely loving her from the bottom of your heart as a stand-in for the one you miss. Simultaneously, you place three spoonfuls of sugar into the mouth of the deceased while reciting a specific incantation... and your loved one will be revived."
Qiong stated this with utter, unwavering conviction, seemingly holding absolute faith in the bizarre ancient legend.
"Huh?" March 7th was completely and utterly bewildered.
"..."
Dan Heng remained expressionless, his body stiff for a long moment. His facial muscles twitched as if he'd just endured a grueling mental battle, leaving him filled with exhaustion. He finally let out a quiet sigh and discreetly put away his Cloud-Piercer.
"Write a novel? Spo-sponsor a university student? Add sugar? What on earth is all this about?" March 7th wore an expression that screamed, 'What the heck is going on?' "Did my Synesthesia Beacon mistranslate something?"
How could there possibly be such a bizarre secret art? Also, 'loved one'? Weren't you two twins? Could it be! Could it possibly be that legendary kind of forbidden love?
As if stumbling upon a critical, overlooked clue, March 7th's pupils began to shake, her eyes widening dramatically.
"So, Miss March 7th, can you help me?" Qiong looked imploringly at the pink-haired girl who resembled embodied fate, his gaze heavy with sorrow, thick with obsession, like a drowning man desperately grasping at the very last straw.
"Huh?" Overwhelmed by the sheer, unbelievable volume of information, March 7th's brain seemed to short-circuit again, leaving her stunned. She couldn't fathom how someone's eyes could actually convey such a complex tapestry of emotions – and the crucial part was, she could somehow clearly distinguish every single one!
In his previous life, Qiong had been nothing more than a low-level corporate drone. At most, he'd participated in some painfully awkward club skits back in university. His acting skills weren't just subpar; they were practically non-existent. But things were drastically different now. He had embarked upon the Path of Elation. And then, of course, there was the mask's unique ability.
The invisible Mask of Elation he wore allowed Qiong to form any expression he desired, perfectly replicating even the most subtle micro-expressions without the slightest hint of a flaw. Furthermore, it granted him considerable resistance against abilities designed to sense or manipulate emotions, ensuring that others could only perceive the feelings Qiong deliberately feigned on the surface.
Qiong had explicitly told Aha he didn't want to hide his true feelings behind a mask anymore, yet the Aeon had gifted him precisely such a mask. Aha really knew how to have fun, didn't they!
"Me?" Peeking out cautiously, March 7th pointed a tentative finger at herself, her expression mirroring the sheer disbelief she'd feel if someone had just asked her to go fight Sukuna.
The kind-hearted and beautiful Miss March 7th genuinely didn't mind helping someone grieving a lost loved one. However, ever since this bizarre conversation began, her Synesthesia Beacon seemed to be completely malfunctioning; she couldn't understand a single coherent thought the man was expressing.
"Yes, you." Placing his hands firmly on March 7th's shoulders, Qiong looked directly into her mesmerizing blue-violet gradient eyes and nodded with grave solemnity.
"This is for you." Qiong handed March 7th a curio he'd apparently just picked up in the room—a classic, staple weapon of many Mihoyo protagonists: a baseball bat!
Staring blankly at the bat suddenly shoved into her hands, March 7th was utterly bewildered.
"From now on, I'm sponsoring you." Qiong patted her shoulder lightly with his right hand.
"Huh?" A flicker of pure confusion appeared in March 7th's clear, sky-blue eyes as she instinctively retorted, "But... I'm not a university student?"
Dan Heng: "..." Isn't the main issue the whole 'sponsoring' part? Besides, doesn't that curio actually belong to Herta? Using someone else's property as a sponsorship gift... And even if you were going to grab something random, why a baseball bat? You could easily find cuter, more girl-appropriate curios just lying around on the floor. The sheer number of things wrong with the situation felt overwhelming, like being hit by Demacia's greatsword again and again. Dan Heng lapsed into silence.
"It doesn't matter. As long as your age is reasonably close to a university student's, it's perfectly fine," Qiong stated with a completely serious, unwavering face. "I've written a self-insert love novel before, you see. And although it didn't exactly spread throughout the entire galaxy, quite a few people did read it. So, you could say the secret art is already halfway complete."
"Now, I must perform the final, crucial step of the secret art." Without giving March 7th even a second to react, Qiong turned abruptly and walked back to Stelle's side.
In that precise instant, March 7th felt the grey-haired young man's entire aura shift dramatically. He became solemn, almost reverent, his expression tinged with distant remembrance as he simply gazed down at the still figure.
Having been through numerous adventures herself and being an avid reader of all sorts of novels, March 7th's imagination instantly conjured countless dramatic scenarios painting their past. A forbidden love tragically rejected by societal norms, the ensuing controversy and condemnation from outsiders, the utter despair of their parents...
"Wait, hold on! What about the step involving the sugar?" As she blurted this out, March 7th completely missed the exasperated look Dan Heng shot in her direction.
"Oh, I added it earlier. Deoxyribose." Of course, that was totally a joke~!
"Huh?" March 7th's entire perception of reality seemed to glitch and warp for a moment.
The grey-haired young man seemed to be intensely gathering his emotions, focusing his will. Then, in a sudden, explosive moment, the feelings that had been simmering within him like a long-dormant volcano finally erupted. Casting aside all external factors, shattering all worldly prejudices, he cried out with every fiber of his being, his voice raw and strained:
"Ri~se! My~ Be~loved~!!!!!!"
The grand, layered, impossibly resonant voice echoed powerfully through the metallic corridors of the space station.
March 7th watched the young man, who seemed utterly possessed by his grief and conviction, her eyes filling with an even deeper measure of sorrow and pity. This poor person... has the overwhelming grief finally driven him completely, irrevocably mad?
Just as March 7th was gathering her thoughts, preparing to offer some words of comfort to the clearly unhinged Qiong, she suddenly froze, stunned motionless as if turned into a solid statue.
Because the grey-haired girl, who had been lying utterly motionless on the floor just moments before, had actually, impossibly, been called back!
She opened her eyes, blinking slowly and looking blankly, confusedly, at the small group gathered around her.
The dead... had actually... truly... been resurrected!!!???
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