Chapter Text
Robin had been satisfied with her small trip of 'self-reflection' and 'behind the scenes'. She wished that she could have talked to Sunday more but just meeting once more thanks to Mr. Bun Bun for a 'simple' chat they deserved just had to be enough.
She had also ignored any warnings issued by Sunday himself, after what could be considered a reckless stunt. But what exactly did Robin have to regret?
The fact that they were always connected, be it a boon from Xipe or something else, meant that he was never lost to her. That meant she had to make sure they could continue such connection.
She also technically had Sunday's phone number, from the time they made a connection during the Charmony Festival at the Penacony Grand Theater to establish contact, even though he won't answer. Still, Robin texted hoping he sees the message. Hoping that he would give this a chance...
And that she would keep trying until he truly responds, as himself.
Robin: Brother, whatever you are doing, I hope you are doing well. I just wanted to let you know, that other than stepping out of Penacony's spotlight for the time, I have also decided to take on a self-journey out of the spotlight. Thanks to what happened at Penacony and my own decisions, I have cancelled all my idol activities with the hopes to choose my own audience and write my own songs just for me and not my fans. Hopefully, we will cross paths beneath the sun or on stolen nights to wherever our journey takes us. And no matter what, we can just be that brother and sister once more.
Unsurprisingly, that message had not been read the moment she sent it. Even within the few minutes it takes someone to hear or feel the phone ping a notification and at least leave it on read. Yet, Robin remained optimistic. As long as they were alive, they would see each other again. There was no reason not to.
'Brother must be busy then. ... I hope he doesn't get into too much trouble.'
***
To a sister's sentiment, the brother's current predicament was as she predicted, business with a task at hand. As for not getting into too much trouble, Sunday cannot make any promises with the person before him.
'He doesn't know about what happened in Penacony, that I am a wanted criminal now. He seems more curious as to why I am here.'
Not like he could reveal the whole truth for such curiosity, when the script never specified for such without an idea how Luocha would react to Sunday's newfound criminality even when the man was a criminal himself. what he could only do was finish his objective, which was... what was it that the script wanted to establish anyway?
'Do try to figure him out and deal him in for the upcoming inevitable... wasn't it?'
Sunday did figure Luocha out to a certain extent, the backstory that spelled out an origin few were left in the dark of, padding out the circumstances and the forthcoming actions in the Xianzhou. Originating from the Abundance with a mission, having seen how the church undoubtedly worshipping the Abundance doing dastardly deeds and unforgivable sins opening the young blonde's eyes to Abundance's unfortunate evil that he now wished to erase the Abundance completely.
The story weaves and Sunday admitted that he didn't have all the pieces nor that it would be possible to know the entirety of an individual but it was enough to get an edge on further figuring out Luocha, and possibly 'deal him in for the upcoming inevitable'.
Whatever that means, because Sunday was clueless to the Stellaron Hunter's agenda with their 'upcoming inevitables' or 'destiny', as he was understandably tested through until Destiny's Slave could truly trust him with such information. The only thing he was reassured of was that his actions would benefit his promise, his ambition, no matter how much of a detour they seem.
Sincerely, he wasn't sure how much a person eager to kill an Aeon with the slightest possibility to accomplish it could help them. It seemed a journey of self, with allies aligning for the same goals can partake. And Sunday was unsure enough about what could be considered the Stellaron Hunters' enemies or end goals to be wary of jumping ship easily. Although a potential war between Aeons with Pathstriders of their own agenda to aid or kill said Aeons seem to be on the table as an end of days being an upcoming inevitable, can he be sure this was what Destiny's Slave would gun for?
In all honesty, why did Elio leave this to Sunday, of all people? What did Elio want Sunday to know from this mission that he had yet to make heads or tails of? Fated meeting as Elio wanted to describe it as and even with empathizing with Luocha's circumstances as he did for plenty of people, Sunday didn't feel any connection towards Luocha other than a person he simply met on-script with a mission in mind that he was still puzzling out from a professional standpoint.
From a personal standpoint, Luocha didn't strike him out as different as any other person with their own variation of troubles and futile struggles to the universe even when Sunday will admit Luocha's predicament against the Aeon of Abundance was of larger scale than the simple tales he heard as Bronze Melodia about doing a master disservice of spilling food on them that he ocassionaly hears in a past that was no longer his present.
But Sunday knew possibilities shouldn't be taken so lightly and thus found himself going through the flow just to see where and how this will go. That was what he had done so far for the unfamiliar and it was a tactic that had yet to fail him so it was the only avenue he could take.
So far, they had only engaged in simple small talk when Sunday awoken and the conversation almost pettered out when it seemed that neither knew what to say in this strange circumstances. Even if it was circumstances that Sunday imposed upon them through the means of script.
Sunday could sense a stalemate happening, and knew he had to progress. Flipping through the script in his mind, he should be aware of the deadline of how long the guards can be stalled and how he should escape from this predicament afterwards lest his own journey ends here.
'Once you have woken up, you will only have 10 minutes to hear him out and say your piece. Whether you will walk it out shaking hands, finding a new purpose, in utter confusion or against each other throats depends on what's deep down and in so many possiblities, only one fate can emerge and you will finally accept your true self.'
"Who are you, and where are we?" Sunday asked, as if he didn't know any of such in the beginning. It was better to get introductions out of the way and get on even ground with each other. The rest of it, he had to be quick and he had to understand...
"I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Luocha, just a travelling merchant. Luocha being my Xianzhou name because the name I am under the IPC is hard to pronounce in the ship. As for where we are, you unfortunately crashed into this... transport ship. It will not be long before the... authorities come and inquire about what happened."
Sunday looked sheepish for what happened because while he did intentionally crash the starskiff, he really did want to compensate for damages. Since Silver Wolf had said how degrading it was to just leave money on the by for his crimes and it was not like he could pay reimbursement like an upright civilian would usually do in situations like this because the authorities would rather arrest Sunday the criminal than just quickly go over the accident and settle the matter by Sunday the once-civilian.
He will eventually find a way to pay for the property damage he caused. Maybe the script was a way to ease him into such dangerous criminal life while he wanted to build life anew, even when he should be aware his criminal aspect would no longer give him any chance to savour the civilian life he once had without looking warily around for people to break such a fragile facade for his criminal persona people unfortunately care more about.
He really had to adapt.
"For that reason alone, I want to ask something before any interruptions," Luocha continued, "I noticed that there is a certain... ascension to you, of a higher power than Pathstriders normally have to the point of an Emanator and even more. I find this quite curious. Was something done that gave you such newfound powers?"
Sunday's mind flashed back to an ascension that didn't even happen too long ago, that should not have made waves worldwide when the Family and even the IPC in the know agreed to release a fake story about a 'Stellaron incident' that did not involve, well... the downfall of the Oak family and thus without anyone knowing about Sunday's own downfall.
A higher power than Pathstriders, being an Emanator and more. Frankly, Sunday was sure that was 'impossible'. He was neither Emanator of Order or Harmony, with the former of an Aeon absorbed into the Harmony and thus unable to give even a fleeting glance to acknowledge anyone in this universe as an Emanator even when Gopher Wood called him and Robin as twins of Order. Sunday thought that was more towards the hopes they have potential within the Order than anything else, since Robin was truly a follower of the Harmony instead of what the Dreamaster would rather want her to be.
As for the latter with the Harmony, with the idealism of equality, that one was a tricky business with anyone summoning any of the Harmonic Strings having the power of an Emanator but not necessarily an Emanator themselves. Sunday himself had no such powers.
Still, Luocha did mention an ascension and it was possible that despite his defeat, a lingering power would remain. And yet Sunday 'never' conceived the notion that he would still hold, what? A remnant of godhood?
The Nameless fought hard, black holes and ice. Spear and fire. Hat and... song all around but Sunday could not feel it deep within the Emanator. Strung along, the voices kept going on and more had joined the fray and Sunday wondered whether this was what the Dreamaster truly wanted, what the Order truly wanted but it was a worthless thought in the midst of battle.
A vessel should remain thoughtless, only aware of all and yet unaware much of himself as wishes were made realized and the objective was completed. Throughout the fight, still his self in direction and yet following every puppet to continue the duel with those who gazed at the sun...
The battle reached a climax in the discordant songs, one overpowering the other and Sunday can sense... futility but merely a vessel for the many wishes, souls and gods, a self-directed farce that would topple the more people have woken up and yet, he can still hear so many, see so much and wonder whether this is what THEY had felt, been subjected to.
'See the stars, the explosions, the nothingness and the light, glaring and never gentle. See the planets, the people, the creation and destruction, the light and darkness, the beginning and the end. What does it mean to be human, what does it mean to evolve, what does it mean to go beyond, what does it mean to carry the wishes, be fueled and grasp the impossible. When the impossible turns to a desired paradise but when one knows all, what does such paradise mean, when they would only meet an end. But the end can also begin and yet what cycle will they fall through. What paradise should be sought after. What-'
He had thought of so much, seen and heard what the sun had seen but that was why he could say what he needed to next:
"If your 'paradise' can save more people, sever my path with your own hands."
Seven lines had been recited while they continuously attacked him, pleading... wanting. The 'Emanator' reached out, and felt THEIR hand but what about Sunday, who was deep in such a shell, only basking in childhood memories that kept flowing, among many wishes out there in the stars. What was it to be reaching the sun, to where THEY reside, where THEY can know so much beyond human measure and to see what 'paradise' was and what happens if the vessel feels all to fuel a dream, that they become more than human, that they are alone and were granted the power-
And yet, the power was overwhelmed by the Nameless, with many wishes ever changing and being saved by their 'paradise' until Sunday was left. With nothing but himself, truly severed.
... Or was it? He didn't acknowledge it, prideful with the idea of a human paradise being made by humans but falling to the hypocrisy of being a follower of an Aeon with their ideals used to construct such paradise, calling upon an Emanator of another for the power and being a vessel of both, with the wishes of so many as not just the Oak Family but the dreamers who remained satisfied...
That to become the sun, one must shine brightly and gain fire. Enough to fuel and burn, so much that the paradise he sought out could no longer be said to be made by humans if it had come to pass. That he flew so close to the sun and grasp unimaginable power that once, he could be the sun. And how could a human arrogantly deem themselves to be the sun, even if it meant protecting the humanity of someone else that shouldn't shoulder such burden?
And even when the night was too short, why couldn't he go back another night? To fly to the sun at dawn, and become more? Because what he had been made for, he still inevitably had. Because even when the sun, a star itself, dies, it would still burn, shine and give light as if it still existed for everyone regardless.
Sunday steadily looked back at Luocha, remembering a moment of godhood and the need to be left with nothing in defeat. Of a naive thought to lose it all when he had deserved as such. Sunday had been denying it because he was sure that neither Aeon would favour a Pathstrider that THEY have left in defeat. And yet, why deny his 'true self' any longer?
The only problem was he could still never truly define what he had gained, what being the sun could have meant. What did it mean to have ascension? A potential? A remnant of godhood? Or was that arrogant delusion?
"Isn't that arrogant delusion?" Sunday finally asked, "To have ascension, to potentially be more than an Emanator? I certainly do not think I possess such power."
"I am humble enough to admit if I am mistaken," Luocha said, eyes still locked on Sunday in intrigue, "But I feel experience does not lie. I am also assured that you are smart enough to understand that ascension is not exactly an arrogant delusion. Since the beginning of time itself, Aeons have risen and fallen. How can an Aeon rise if not for evolution and ascension from whatever circumstances that allowed them to create and follow the Path that made the Aeon in a first place?"
"So what are you saying? Noticing the certain ascension and newfound powers, what are you implying about me?" Sunday asked, curious as he wondered whether the person touched by Abundance would answer a question he had fleetingly wondered, of the aftermath when it came to power and understand his comeuppance.
"Nothing at all," Luocha said smoothly, "Just that you have your own potential but it is dependent on you and the potential itself of how it will all manifest."
"How are you so confident in such assumptions?" Sunday asked.
"When you experience as much as I do, as a travelling merchant, the knowledge you accumulate doesn't leave much for confusion," Luocha answered before giving a slight smile, "And you really didn't deny it all. So is it safe to say that you will not deny that it was due to your potential that you have dreamed with me and planted a thought about fulfilling my wishes, will you?"
Sunday was shocked because he felt sure that Luocha would not remember the dream but he was more formidable than he thought, humbling the Halovian.
It would not be the first nor last time he found himself in such circumstances and yet he didn't react to it as much as a wry smile and simply coming clean. In the end, even through what few in the universe especially the Family would consider as villainy on Sunday's part in Penacony, he never had much to hide. He just wouldn't show anything if people don't look for it but now Luocha was looking so Sunday would reveal. As much as what he was seen for.
He was still a person who preferred to hide his cards close to the chest when unecessary risk of openess and honesty might backfire to the enemies in the shadows, often before to dark birds that do not idle in their observations. But what's wrong with being so cautious, and thus Sunday proceeded.
"May I admit that when I crashed and lost consciousness that I had no idea I would be stumbling upon your dream nor would I really implant such a thought to your head. Your dream moved me so I guess my desires leaked out and influenced you, nothing more. If it is as you say part of my potential, then I am simply finding this out myself," Sunday admitted.
"But then, you would know much about me, through a dream. How much would you know about me? Why are you still here?" Luocha asked.
"I know much, up until the contents of your coffin," Sunday answered honestly, still admittedly vague about dreamlike sensations and snippets of thoughts about a life lived through a dream but the story weaved about 'the devils, church and insanity' led to its own sad outcome, "As for why I'm still here, let this humble pathstrider of Harmony- oh."
Sunday got up quickly, dodging tendrils of vines that suddenly aimed at him. When they persisted, he held out his baton and uneasily saw those tendrils coming from a coffin he had just noticed lying next to Luocha. He then looked at Luocha, eyes demanding for the meaning of unwarranted hostility but a wry smile graced his face.
"Why is that coffin here? Why is it attacking me?" Sunday demanded.
"The General understood that the coffin was imperative to be brought along for further proceedings and left it to my side. As for attacking you, I guess the contents in my coffin are more careful than myself," Luocha revealed easily, as Sunday frowned when the tendrils had the upper hand from Sunday's unsure and passive demeanour to suddenly let himself be tied down in front of Luocha.
"Fairly reasonable for a respected figure from the faraway planet of Festivities widely known to rarely ever leave his home planet due to very few family or work related matters to get him out and suddenly off to the Xianzhou, recklessly crashing a starskiff by your lonesome right in a prisoner's arms. Not only that, a respected leader but wholy Halovian, admitting of a hidden ascended power within that infiltrated my mind, finding me out and subtly wanting to grant my wishes with influence to open me up to the idea."
Luocha stood up himself and approached Sunday, "Why shouldn't I return the favour?"
***
"Excuse me?" Sunday asked, and Luocha would be amused about Sunday's confused expression if not for pressing matters concerning the lack of guards rushing to check on the situation and the unwanted guest making small talk, admitting so much and yet remaining wholy unfaze by the situation.
Was it truly ignornace or denial? Either way would point towards stupidity when self-proclaimed (and yet humble fool of a) dabbling Aeon expert understood that Sunday's curiosity and yet nonchalance about his potential was something he could not ignore. Was it the first time he experienced such powers after the incident that triggered them? If it went farther, how far would they extend? What kind of consequences would be unleashed without a care for the masses?
It was a self-imposed duty and promise for what he was about to do next.
Was it a memory, a delusion or a dream? After he had lost his planet, after he met a stranger once when he was being saved, found the coffin and was entrusted it? A promise to the contents of the coffin, to use and be used. To render himself a fool than who he truly was after the scars of the past.
THEY did not care for mortal plight. THEY were not invulnerable. He was shown that truly, when being used and holding the rapier, a weapon made to fight that he learned a long time ago. As one with potential for Abundance to fight for long days and short nights. To be raged, to be destroyed, to be defeated but the fool as he was so heckled by did his duty. And drew blood, gold ichor that shows THEIR ascension and separates THEM from them and yet...
THEY had not been born into Aeons but made into THEM, once beings who simply ascended thanks to a Path that they took and with THEIR world only narrowed to that one Path uncaring about anything else. THEY can die, by THEM but other ways if a mere being like him could cut THEIR flesh.
THEY fascinated him, and throughout the seven days and nights, he heard and learned and wondered.
Whether THEY can be more than THEIR paths, if just to avoid the tragedies if a certain THEM that once and may have glanced in his homeworld had understood what it meant to give the people THEIR blessing without thinking of anything else.
But after a battle that would later be deemed an outlandish story to some, a mere hallucination to others and yet all the same enlightening, the fool would think about the differences of them and THEM, and of humanity and godhood and wondered what if a being had both... and how he would like to meet such a person some day, for maybe if THEY were more like that, if THEY cared for mortal plight, then maybe...
But maybes were only for those who want to alleviate their pasts with false hopes that it could have led to a better future when their pasts already led a present they must use for the future that would later be their present.
A memory, a delusion or a dream when he found himself wrapped up in the coffin's pulsing purple vines. But he would never forget his solemn promise, his duty and what THEY have done. If there comes a time when the birth of THEM becomes his present, then maybe he could be shown a miracle.
If he believed in such things in the first place.
'A miracle. That would be quite a wish,' Luocha now thought, 'Whether Mr. Sunday would prove himself an asset, a nuisaince or an enemy, he has no sway with what Master Jingliu and I will do now. Our business here will soon be finished one way or another, but what happens next...'
'Will I see him again? What will happen next, if we meet again, I hope that I will have a better upper hand. Even now, the thought of a wish fulfilled appeals me.'
Sunday's planted thought influenced Luocha more than he liked, but in the vast universe, one could only take such things in stride and find a way to reap benefits. So it was time to make reassurances.
A duty, promise and curiosity picked up by the coffin would lead to the following ritual.
The vines with the coffins pulsed purple, as Sunday gritted his teeth even when blood (not ichor) dripped down to the floor. Luocha suddenly heard footsteps, understanding that time was running short and that he would not know about his unexpected guest anymore, but maybe another time. He approached Sunday closer, before taking something out. An unassuming bracelet, a merchandise that he had kept close but would appropriately serve the man before him.
"When we meet again," Luocha simply said as he slid it into his arm with the bracelet tightening itself around, and Sunday's face fell to a completely neutral state that he could not discern nor understand.
"What... favour are you returning? Why do you think we will meet again?" Sunday asked, and if the pain both physical and mental (from the coffin) bothered him, he didn't show.
"You know so much about me, so it is fair that I will know about... my latest client, if you will. Entrusting you with this good here is simply an investment I'm most curious about. Mr. Sunday, I can tell that you are not as well-versed about the Aeons in general to know what might happen to you soon enough. Your potential, ignorance and actions have simply incited me to speed up the process."
Sunday didn't say anything, listening intently and hoping that Luocha would go on, even as the footsteps grew louder. Even when they could be interrupted at any moment, so Luocha would make it short.
"You will figure out the rest on the way, and however you want to manifest your potential, this bracelet will tell. And when the time comes that you realize who you truly are, I am fairly sure that will help us cross paths."
"How mysterious," Sunday said, unruffled but surprisingly understanding despite the ridiculous situation he found himself in. Did he stumble upon an epiphany? Was he expecting this all along? Luocha would never know, because the moment any further comment could be made from either of them, the door that neither men bothered to block off in the ship opened for guards as far as the eye can see, about to do their job concerning an imprisoned inmate.
Suddenly, many things happened in quick succession. The moment the guards kicked the door down, Sunday started to sing. It was without lyrics, a humming melody but it was enough for everything to stop. From the guards with their feet suddenly planted to ground for the coffin to loosen the vines and Luocha to freeze, with eyelids starting to feel heavy.
'Is this the power of Harmony? But it doesn't feel like such? The potential... the possibility...'
Luocha did not hesitate either as he thrusted the Abyss Flower towards Sunday with the gentle light hovering over Sunday and healing the bloodied arms from the coffin but also leaving punctures almost like tattos over his arms. Two bracelets adorned his arms, one that had the bracelet he had given him and the other, a filter perception.
In the background, guards fell down one by one in a trance as he barely saw three toys dancing over them. The bunny's eyes were particularly staring straight into his soul, and he felt something... similar to what he himself was and he felt the potential of what Sunday was all the more real.
He didn't know how, or what, or why because questions such as those to understand held little weight in the decisions of what must be done now to ensure a new deal, a new promise and a new beginning.
'My story does not end with the Xianzhou, after all. The road to Abundance's destruction is a long and winded one. And having something potentially prepared, from the vast universe's whimsies, does not disservice me, or them.'
"Receive... divinity," Luocha said towards Sunday, as the glowing heal washes over Luocha and he would feel the power he had held, the Abundance wash over him, seep into his potential and...
"May you be blessed with sweet dreams," Sunday said, eyes staring straight to Luocha as his body could not keep up and exhaustion all too suddenly washed over him. It was even affecting the coffin, with the vines finally detracting. Before the world blacked out on him, he saw the toys rushed over him. He saw the teddy bear adjusting the filter perception bracelet turning him into a different man. He saw that man leaning toward the toy with halo and the bunny ear directing them all...
He saw the glow in Sunday fester, as his eyes similarly closed and Luocha knew.
Receive divinity indeed.
Later on, Luocha and the guards would wake up without any presence of their unexpeced guest. The guards who were knocked out to sleep had simply thought they fainted out of turbelence and never mentioned an unwanted intruder when making sure that Luocha and his coffin was safely secured.
Luocha could guess memory manipulation, because he did not forget everything that happened.
The necklace swung around, glowing faintly. If he closed his eyes, he would see the dream that Sunday sent him towards, one with him and a white haired girl sitting down on a tree and looking out to an unblemished world that he wished he live instead of what actually happened in the past.
'Are you really that determined to fulfill wishes, Mr. Sunday?'
His eyes closed, he found himself in a daydream and yet an angel never came. Beyond his closed eyelids, only the necklace's glow kept him company.
***
'Figure the healer out and deal him in for the upcoming inevitable. Little did the new recruit know that those words were meant for an inevitable nearer than one thought and that the healer would deal himself in, after the healer found out he was being figured out. Godhood is a tricky business after all and it takes expertise to draw a finer line on divinity sooner than later. When the ritual for a sped up trial had finished commencing, he will be deftly rescued by stalwart partners of crimes and sent to where you come in, like a Samaritan stranger doing an everyday good deed.'
When Blade read that part of the script, idling around the alleyways of the Xianzhou, he wondered about the prices people will inevitably pay. The newest recruit was being shown the ropes a lot quicker for someone who was once an upright civilian now turned criminal but as long as he was efficient and does the job well, Blade would have no complaints.
He had looked out for people, carrying the young Halovian to him to be prepared for the next stage of Elio's script, in dealing with the newest recruit and easing him into the new life without much complication. He did not expect that he was supposed to be looking down when he felt a soft tap on his legs and saw Sunday sleeping peacefully on the ground with a teddy bear perching Sunday's head a little upward so not to completely sleep on the ground. There was also a toy with halo carrying one of his legs and the toy bunny that had tapped on his leg.
How did those three toys get Sunday out of the transport ship and right to Blade, who was a ways away from the ship after running interference to give Sunday as much time with his confrontation with Luocha? A curious thought, that came and went after the results before him were denial.
He had his own filter perception and Sunday's had been temporarily turned off so Blade could briefly recognized him. With a grunt, he had hoisted Sunday upward and away from the toys as he fiddled around with both perception filters to play off the good Samaritan and fly away from the Xianzhou.
And good thing too, because he didn't know how much he could stay here without being haunted by the memories of the past but he was undeniably efficient here with his familarity to the place which was why Blade had been sent to Xianzhou missions lately.
Tch.
"Take good care of him," the toy bunny said and if Blade was surprised that the toy could speak in the first place, he didn't show it on account that weirder things had happened in the universe.
Blade simply grunted, but it was enough for the toys to disappear right in front of him. That didn't bother Blade, when anything beyond his comprehension could be put aside and eventually forgotten for what he truly needed to do.
When he gladly got on board to the ship, with Sunday still asleep so soundly that it was almost like he was dead (which Blade wished that was himself in that situation), Blade looked out the window that showed off the galaxies without conversation partner unlike when he had previously been arriving to the Xianzhou. It left him with his thoughts, about the ironic relief he felt that this mission was incredibly brief even without running into any of the Nameless that he had been informed were in the Xianzhou, where despite the big ship, he could have runned into a certain Nameless...
And Kafka wasn't there, just a new greenhorn of a recruit. So he was appreciative with the script's briefness that he didn't meet much people that could trigger his mara. It made him uneasy, considering the Nameless' presence. Specifically the Astral Express, because he was aware how among the many scripts Destiny's Slave has, Elio had big plans for them.
Blade closed his eyes, ignoring the ethereal eyes he saw out of the darkness or the dragon's roar unless he wanted to lose himself and accidentally destroy a ship. A momentary weakness when his mind went to the Astral Express. He breathed in, before he opened his eyes and observed Sunday's still unmoving body. Blade decided to check Sunday's pulse, once more, to make sure he wasn't dead.
Because he was sure sleeping soundly.
It reminded him how not only the Nameless but how Elio usually had big plans for plenty people. Blade felt indifferent about Sunday's plight, even when they were working together now as long as it doesn't have much to do with his own promises. Even so, only curiosity and pity could be felt for the Halovian because Blade was informed as much about the trials and tribulations that had been carefully planned and laid out. To ensure that there won't be loose ends regarding the latest recruit.
'Much easier and harder than my own curse. Hmph, at least unlike me, he has a chance.'
Blade closed his eyes once more, onward to sleep when there wasn't much to do or even say at this point. In the darkness, he saw those ethereal eyes and heard a dragon's roar as if such a thing refused to leave his mind once he thought of such but then, he felt a low hum, a song like a lullaby and white feathers...
'Take good care of him...'
'Hey, it's time for us to wish upon the stars.'
Blade opened his eyes, startled once again observing Sunday when he thought he saw the toy bunny once more and then a young brother and sister lying on the grass looking at the stars. Blade didn't sleep afterwards, but a thought flitted through his head:
'It really is time, huh? Don't waste your chance.'
It was a thought that couldn't possibly reach Sunday but a small smile suddenly graced his face. Blade looked away, off to watch the planets and especially the stars go through the window as he wondered once more what fate had in store for people like them.