*I haven't died yet. I'm alive yooo. Anyway, new chapter here. Enjoy. Peace out and Deus vult*
He didn't bother with the countless words that flowed out of Gallagher's mouth, instead trying to figure out what the whole ordeal was in the grand scheme of things. Internal affairs within The Family, outside interference in the Harmony, some other power causing the imbalance.
The bomb from Gallagher came that a Stellaron was involved in the whole ordeal, keeping the dream together without using an Emanator of Remembrance or another power on that level. The Crew cast silent gazes his way, and he simply scoffed softly, already thinking of what to do and how to get rid of it faster.
"It would prove to be quite a challenge. The Stellaron itself is in the Dreamscape, existing in a different form. Just what are Stellarons? I think them remains from dead Aeons, but I might be wrong. Alas, let's just focus on getting rid of this atrocity."
The others were listening carefully to the things revealed, while Mark didn't bother to focus on their audible form, instead twirling the bits that came into being in his fragmented mind. Something about such a thing happening wasn't a thing in the game, and yet he wasn't a thing there either. It did bother him that not even a clue related to his condition existed, and yet it was there, related to the dream, somehow burning him slowly and painstakingly slow.
He nearly shot up on the tips of his feet as the idea came back to him—a subtle detail that he had forgotten.
"You alright, kid?" asked Gallagher, as the eyes of the Crew fell on him from all sides. He nodded, speaking loudly, his realization subtle but holding meaning.
"I realized something. Hell, I realized something. You go on discussing then asking Sunday about the Stellaron. Hell, I need to find someone. Gallagher, I gotta borrow your pet or whatever it is. Hopefully it's not mad at me, since I did give it quite a beating when we thought it an enemy."
His sudden rush felt odd, even for his friends who were used to this sort of behavior. Gallagher nodded, preparing to call for Sleepie, ready to send Mark back to the fancier side of the dream, the one filled with neon lights and endless bustle, drinks, and tales that intertwined themselves.
"Does he always get this excited?" asked Gallagher, looking at the others. March sighed, as if tired of his antics, while Stelle rubbed her eyes. Himeko was silent, stealing a quick glance at him as Welt fixed his glasses into place.
"He has his moments. If possible, do aid him, Mister Gallagher. He's got a good sense for these things."
Said and done, Mark left behind any fatigue or strange feeling that plagued him, focusing instead on the path ahead, heading to none other than Black Swan, the Memokeeper who might have a clue. The one thing that came to him was that, ever since his arrival in Penacony, no blood came out of his nose as he recalled various things. It was a simple, dumb, yet significant detail that he had overlooked, focused to the extreme on the situation around.
Another stab in the chest later, he was up and running through the city, bearing memories of Boothill and Dan Heng having arrived at the bar in reality, waiting for that one bottle of Asdana's White Oak. Of course, they'd be sent back to the Astral Express, where a nice chat was about to ensue. The details were lost to him, yet they tried to come to the surface, almost like they had resurfaced once more.
Once at the bar, he noticed the duo of Nameless and Galaxy Ranger waiting, grabbing their bottle and checking out a note. Mark arrived by their side, speaking briefly.
"Astral Express. Now."
Boothill's hand went to the gun, but Dan Heng nodded, assuring him that Mark was to be trusted.
"Slow down, cowboy. You're quick to your guns, but I'll be quicker to take you out like a tin can," he smirked, trying to rile up the Galaxy Ranger.
"You're one mother fudger, son of a nice lady. If it were after me, I'd fill you with lead in two seconds flat."
Mark smirked.
"Heh, you need to get that checked. Your vocal module needs a little tuning for the cussing part of things. Mother fudger sounds funny, tho, you know? Anyway, on to the Express. We're in deeper shit than I thought."
Thus, they walked off like a group, with Boothill holding on to that bottle like his life was on the line.
"What about the others?" asked Dan Heng, aiming for the subject without hesitation.
"They're fine. Each one is focused on their own thing. Welt went with Sunday and Robin. Himeko has a different lead she's focusing on, with Stelle and March going with her."
He nodded, keeping up the rhythm as the Express appeared into view. Mark boarded first, smiling at Pom-Pom.
"Heh, seems like our Conductor is busy with guests, right?"
Mark's gaze fell on Black Swan, a smoldering sense of confusion about her, like anger kept astray from its true purpose, lost in a daze made by his own hand. Meanwhile, Acheron smiled softly at him, and he felt the same strange tug as their gazes met. It was almost like her presence yearned for his and vice versa.
"Well, seems like we meet again, right? I knew you couldn't stay away from me for long," chuckled Black Swan, her low voice soft, seductive, yet Mark simply walked past her, for a moment forgetting all about the thing he wished to ask about. He simply walked closer to Acheron, while Black Swan kept on her characteristic tiny little grin, despite feeling a little hurt.
"Ah, so cold..." she mused, crossing her arms.
Acheron's eyes were fixed on Mark's, luring him in, calling out to him. She stepped closer, meeting him halfway.
"Good to see you're fine after our shared moment in battle."
He nodded, smiling a little, bopping her nose most gently—an old habit of his that showed whenever he wished to get closer to someone. It was a subconscious thing, yet he did it nonetheless. She smiled a little, the faintest trace of a blush on her cheeks.
"As amusing as this may be, I'm afraid we have more pressing issues," she said softly, looking over to the others. Boothill was pretty mad in that moment, staring at Black Swan with cold gunbarrels ready to fire instead of eyes.
"You Garden of Recollection shirtbag, you betrayed me?!"
Acheron tugged at Mark's sleeve, turning him around as she walked a bit closer to Boothill, speaking calmly.
"I apologize, but she did that at my request. Due to certain... reasons, I have been exiled by The Family. Thankfully, this Memokeeper came to my aid and helped me escape their surveillance unnoticed."
Black Swan smiled curtly, nudging Mark in the side, snapping him out of his own thoughts, which she thought were filled with Acheron.
"See? I'm not that bad, after all."
He sighed, rubbing his eyes for a moment in pure annoyance before opening his mouth to speak, only to find a soft, satin glove pressed to his lips, keeping them together before sliding along, feeling their plumpness.
"Keep those kissable lips of yours closed for now, until I might close them myself. You'll learn more than you're in for in a few moments."
He nearly allowed himself the luxury of biting off her finger, but it would've been for naught since she doesn't have a physical form to begin with. Thus, he waited, noticing Acheron's amused expression before she went on talking.
"I asked her to guide me to a place beyond The Family's reach and to contact a few trustworthy individuals, namely all of you."
Boothill laughed, grinning from ear to ear like a jester mocking the audience.
"Trustworthy? Hahahahahaha! Son of a nice lady! You think I'm dumb or something?"
He yanked out his gun, pointing it to her head, giving the hammer a dead-set touch. Mark by his side instantly froze him up, burning up to 35% output in a flash, releasing the ice like it appeared out of thin air, rendering him motionless.
"Heh, so you sure got me trapped, right? All of you threw nothing but bullcrap around."
Acheron looked at Mark, nodding, and he undid the ice at once, trying to calm down.
"Sorry for that, but don't just go pointing your gun at people, alright? It was pure reflex that kicked in."
He nearly pointed the gun at Mark this time, but Acheron spoke up. On the side, Dan Heng simply took note of what was going on, looking over to Pom-Pom, who was a little bit worried.
"I'm willing to answer all your questions, but not right now," said Acheron, her tone calm, back to the usual lifeless plateau. "If my cover hadn't been blown, we might've had more time, but at the moment, we don't have any other options."
"No other options? What do you mean?" replied Boothill, holstering his gun away by his waist.
"This is the only way I can ensure everyone's safety..."
She spoke up, determined.
"I kindly request an immediate warp jump outside of the Asdana star system."
Everyone was left silent, and Mark took a moment to mull over the words.
"Why, Acheron?" he asked calmly, tying up whatever ends he could grasp for.
The one to answer was Black Swan, speaking firmly, causing Mark to twirl around and meet her gaze.
"Have you heard of a planet named Byandri Skamandros, Mark?"
The name suddenly appeared in his mind, followed by the eerie image of a concept that has long since found its way in horror—a hivemind.
"Everyone became part of The Family..." he whispered, finally realizing the weight of it all. Everyone was left speechless, contemplating the words. Mark's eyes widened slightly, reaching for his nose.
"Black Swan... there's more to this, right? What is the missing link?"
The world froze around him, with time literally stopping for a second. His heart rushed, his eyes were focused on hers, almost feeling her try to get inside his mind yet again, but rather, she was checking to see the exterior. Her gaze was somewhat worried, almost horrified, but she spoke softly, like switching characters instantly.
"Missing link? You'll have to find it for yourself, Mark. Wake up for good."
The last sentence, the same thing Meritas had told him, the damned words finding their way back at him. Soon, time moved again, flowing with no issue. He struggled for breath for a second, while Dan Heng and Boothill watched the scene, with one being silent while the other fiddled with the gun on his hip, giving it a few spins on his index finger.
"Wake up... for good..."
Acheron spoke up, her voice a soft anchor for Mark as she walked closer, leaning a bit against his side.
"The Family would have no reason to cause that sort of incident here... if they truly serve the Harmony, that is."
"What do you mean?" asked Dan Heng, curious about the situation, yet his cold demeanor didn't falter.
Acheron leaned a bit more on Mark, speaking calmly.
"The Path in Penacony is impure. The Harmony here has impurities."
Mark blushed a little, but he didn't move away at all, rather sliding his hand gently along her back until it rested above her hip.
Black Swan smiled, looking over them both with a slightly amused expression.
"Do you remember the ancient Swarm Disaster? Tayzzyronth the Propagation brought endless havoc to the universe, and it eventually evolved into a fierce battle among all Aeons. Two Paths lost their Aeons in that war— The Propagation and The Order. Coincidentally, their downfall is related to a certain Aeon..."
"Xipe the Harmony," answered Acheron from Mark's side. "Legend has it that THEY participated in the crusade against the Imperator Insectorum and devoured Ena the Order for no reason."
The name struck Mark in the gut, causing his vision to blurry. Dream. Dream. Dream. Ena's Dream. He looked around, noticing how it all began to shake and rattle, the very fabric of reality around him struggling to keep itself together.