A dull, throbbing ache coursed through Firefly's head as consciousness returned. He blinked slowly, his vision struggling to adjust to the dim light. The world around him felt cold and unfamiliar.
"Oh, you're awake," came a calm, measured voice.
He turned his head towards the sound and saw a woman standing nearby. Her presence was commanding yet gentle, her elegant frame silhouetted against the glow of monitors and machinery. A soft smile graced her face as she scribbled notes onto a tablet.
"Who... who are you?" Firefly croaked, his voice strained and raspy, as if it had gone unused for centuries. He felt weak, his body unfamiliar yet functional.
"I am Ruan Mei," she said, not bothering to look up from her notes. "It seems Experiment #1, the resurrected Grammar Knight, is a success."
Firefly's mind spun as the words sunk in. Grammar Knight? What was she talking about? He winced as a sudden rush of memories overtook him, colliding with his sense of self.
Two lives unspooled in his mind: one as a genetically engineered soldier of the Welkin Empire of Glamoth, the other as a man in a mundane world where Glamoth was nothing more than a distant story from a game.
In the first life, he had been a proud knight of the Iron Cavalry—a first-generation Grammar Knight tasked with defending Glamoth.
He remembered his final mission, sacrificing himself to save his comrades on the Empress's orders. Then... nothing. In the other life, he was someone entirely different, an ordinary man who vaguely recalled the game Honkai: Star Rail and its lore.
But which life was real? Or were they both fragments of something larger?
One truth became clear amidst the chaos of these memories. He was Firefly, and he was alive.
Ruan Mei's sharp voice cut through his thoughts. "It seems something is wrong with Experiment #1. More tests may be necessary."
"No need. I'm fine," Firefly rasped, forcing himself to sit upright on the sterile bed. His muscles protested with every movement, but he ignored the pain.
Ruan Mei's curious gaze lingered on him. "You're surprisingly resilient," she said, setting her tablet aside. "But I suppose that's expected from one of Glamoth's royal guard. You Iron Cavalry truly are fascinating."
"You've still not answered my question," Firefly said, his voice steadier now. "Who are you, and what are you planning to do with me?"
The scientist tilted her head, as though considering how much to reveal. "I am Ruan Mei, Member #81 of the Genius Society. At your time, there wasn't any such list. Suffice it to say, I specialize in biology and life sciences. As for what I plan to do… nothing immediate. Whether you stay or leave is entirely up to you."
Firefly narrowed his eyes. "Are you serious?"
She smiled faintly. "Oh, I forgot to mention. You have only one year to live."
His expression remained calm, almost unflinching. "And what's your solution? You wouldn't mention something like that unless you had one."
Her smile widened, a hint of mischief glinting in her eyes. "Sharp, as expected. There is a way to extend your life. You'll need something akin to a Star Core. Fortunately for you, I know someone who owes me a favor."
"What's the catch?" he asked.
Ruan Mei chuckled softly. "I want to observe you. You're an intriguing experiment, and… I'd like to see how a royal guard of Glamoth performs in combat. I've prepared something to test your capabilities."
She tossed him a metallic device, and Firefly instinctively caught it. It felt familiar in his hands.
"My Iron Cavalry Transformation Sheath," he murmured. The object gleamed faintly, and as his fingers traced its surface, memories of wielding it flooded back.
Ruan Mei nodded, gesturing for him to follow. "Come. Let's see if you still have what it takes."
Firefly followed her down sterile corridors until they reached a vast open chamber. Ruan Mei stepped into a control cabin on one side, while Firefly found himself standing in the center of a barren arena.
Looking up at her through the reinforced glass, he asked, "What now?"
Ruan Mei's voice echoed through the arena's speakers. "You'll be fighting against one of my other experiments. Something you'll find familiar."
A massive door rumbled open, and from the shadows emerged a monstrous figure. Firefly's eyes widened as recognition struck him.
"The Star Crusher King… Skaracabaz," he whispered. The hulking insectoid creature loomed over him, its mandibles clicking menacingly. Though he had never encountered it personally in his first life, he knew of it through the memories of his second.
Ruan Mei's voice was calm, almost nonchalant. "Don't worry. It's incomplete—only a fragment of its original strength."
Firefly activated the Transformation Sheath, and in a flash, his armor enveloped him. The silver-and-gold plating of the Fyrefly Type-VI Strategic Heavy Assault Mech gleamed under the arena's harsh lights.
"Are you insane?" Firefly shouted, his voice distorted by the armor's vocal modulation. "Why would you resurrect something like this?"
"I have my reasons," Ruan Mei replied. "But I'm more interested in how you handle it."
The Star Crusher King screeched, and its minions swarmed toward Firefly. Without hesitation, he leapt into action. His sword sliced through the insectoids, bisecting them with precision. His fists crushed others, and with a stomp of his greaves, he obliterated a cluster of the creatures.
"I will let the sea burn!" he roared, releasing a wave of vermilion fire that engulfed the arena, incinerating the swarming insects. His movements were fluid, a testament to years of combat training ingrained in him.
But it wasn't enough. The Star Crusher King roared, unleashing a horde of larger, more resilient insects. Firefly activated his SAM wings—blazing red constructs of pure energy—and took to the air, dodging attacks with agility that belied his heavy armor.
"I'll burn the world," he muttered, driving his sword deep into the King's carapace. Flames erupted from the blade, consuming the beast from within. With a deafening explosion, the Star Crusher King collapsed into a smoldering heap.
As the dust settled, Firefly landed gracefully, retracting his wings. The battlefield was quiet now, save for the faint crackling of the still-burning wreckage. He stared at the smoldering remains of the Star Crusher King, his voice laced with bitterness.
"It was too weak compared to the sacrifice they made to destroy it."
He looked up at Ruan Mei's cabin, his voice cold and steady. "Satisfied?"
Ruan Mei's calm voice crackled through the arena's speakers. "Exceedingly. Although this was an incomplete product, you still did good."
Hearing this, Firefly nodded. As he deactivated his mech, a wave of dizziness hit him. His knees buckled, and the world around him spun. Before darkness took over, a familiar voice echoed in his mind—a voice both warm and lovely, yet cold and distant.
"Article 4: Leaving the cockpit is strictly prohibited."
It was the Empress's voice.
Firefly's consciousness returned with a start. He found himself back in the sterile bed where he had first awoken. Ruan Mei's face hovered above him, her expression a mix of curiosity and mild concern.
"Strange. Why did he collapse?" she murmured, almost to herself. "his body is even healthier than when he first woke up." Noticing his fluttering eyelids, she added, "Oh, you're awake again."
Firefly sat up slowly, his body still feeling the aftereffects of the collapse. "Yes, I'm awake."
Ruan Mei crossed her arms. "Good. Do you remember what happened before you collapsed?"
Firefly rubbed his temples, the memory of the battle still fresh in his mind. "Yes, I can still remember."
She tilted her head, scrutinizing him. "Then do you know the cause of your collapse?"
Firefly hesitated. He locked eyes with her, debating whether to reveal what he knew. On one hand, she had revived him, made his current existence possible. On the other, the command he had heard belonged to the Empress, a figure to whom he swored loyalty.
Finally, he spoke. "It's the Article 4 command: 'Leaving the cockpit is strictly prohibited.' It was issued by the Empress back then. It seems when I activate the mech and then deactivate it, the command reactivated itself."
Ruan Mei's brows furrowed in thought. "A lingering telepathic link? Fascinating… but also problematic." She began pacing, her mind clearly racing with possibilities. "That explains the anomaly in your neural readings. The Empress's commands must still be imprinted deeply in your psyche, perhaps even tied to your genetic coding."
Firefly nodded. "It should be. I'm afraid until the Empress herself deactivates that command, it's impossible for now. Or I can find the remaining Iron Cavalry—those who survived—and ask them. I can still feel them."
Hearing this, Ruan Mei began thinking deeply, watching him. "It doesn't matter for now. As long as I don't deactivate the mech after activating it, I should be safe."
Seeing this, Ruan Mei shook her head and responded, "Sure, if you say so." Then she stood up and took her notes, looking at him. "I'll let you gather your thoughts. It must be confusing since you woke up."
Ruan Mei left the room, leaving him alone in the medical bay.
Firefly gazed around the room before his eyes were drawn to the massive glass panel that framed the starry expanse outside. He walked toward it, his reflection merging with the infinite cosmos beyond.
"The stars are sure beautiful," he murmured, the vastness of space somehow grounding him in this strange, fragmented reality.
Firefly stood by the expansive glass, his eyes tracing the glittering stars that painted the cosmic canvas outside. A faint smile touched his lips, his mind drifting between his fragmented memories.
"It's a much better starry sky than in both lives I had," he muttered. The thought brought a mix of nostalgia and bittersweet amusement.
His first life's stars were glimpsed through the haze of battlefields, always overshadowed by the clamor of war. His second life—the quieter, more mundane one—had him scrolling through images of constellations on a screen, the night sky obscured by the cosmic trash that blanketed his world.
But here? Here, the stars shone unimpeded, vast and brilliant.
"This is going to be a long journey," Firefly said to himself, his tone tinged with excitement. For the first time in both his lives, he felt the thrill of embarking on something unknown—a path that wasn't predetermined by duty or dictated by the safety of isolation.
One life of endless battles, he mused, and one of endless boredom. Neither gave me what I truly wanted.
He touched the cold glass, his breath fogging a small patch of it. This new chance wasn't without complications, though. Ruan Mei's words lingered in his mind: he had one year to live. The thought was a heavy counterweight to his growing optimism, but he refused to let it anchor him completely. There was a solution, even if it required a gamble.
"The Star Core," he murmured.
The memory of Ruan Mei's explanation replayed in his mind. He needed the core to extend his lifespan. It was essential, yet it carried implications far beyond his own survival. His fragmented memories of the game resurfaced, and a new worry wormed its way into his thoughts.
The protagonist… Firefly frowned. "I wonder if it's Stelle or Caelus?" he mused aloud, pacing. The implications of taking the Star Core from the protagonist weighed on him. Without them, the script of the universe—the fragile balance of its salvation—might collapse.
"If I take it, then what?" he wondered. The universe's savior, as dictated by the "script," would be rendered powerless. Firefly let out a wry laugh.
"Only the MC can save the universe," he said, shaking his head. It sounded absurd, even as he recalled the dire stakes outlined in his memories of the game. Still, that wasn't his only option, was it?
He paused, his eyes lighting up. "Oh, I forgot. There was also a Star Core in Belobog, wasn't there?" He crossed his arms, the puzzle pieces slowly fitting together. "That could work too, right? No need to upset the whole universe's balance if I can get that one instead."