"The Clockmaker?!"
The Astral Express crew looked at the blue-haired boy in the distance with surprise.
The boy simply smiled in response.
"This kid is the Clockmaker? Laghrough Charles Mikhail? But he looks so..."
"To be precise, the one sitting in the chair is the real him," [Stelle] clarified.
"What you see now is just a manifestation of the will and belief he left behind."
"This..."
Noticing their expressions, Misha smiled and shook his head.
"There's no need to feel sorry for me. My journey has already reached its end."
"The reason I awaited your arrival was simply to pass on this will."
"My path is finished. The road ahead is for you to walk, Nameless."
The Clockwork.
It was the culmination of Laghrough Charles Mikhail's path of Trailblaze, the crystallization of his life's journey.
It was a way of using power.
Everyone hesitates, but that doesn't mean they stop. Guiding and pushing them forward—that is the essence of the "Clockmaker's Legacy." Just like a clock, no matter what, the hands always move forward.
It was a gift from a Nameless senior to their successors. One generation passes their will to the next, carrying the spirit of those who came before as they walk their own path, before entrusting it to the next Nameless.
"This is for you."
"...What is this!?"
When Misha saw the bullet [Stelle] tossed him, his already fading form paused, stunned.
"I happened to run into someone during the Luminary Wardance Ceremony. An old friend of yours entrusted her with this to give to the Galaxy Rangers, but it seems it's no longer needed now."
"But I guess you'd be interested in it."
"This feeling... it's... Tiernan..."
"I always thought he..." Looking at the golden-yellow bullet in his hand, though it was cold, it filled him with a sense of nostalgia.
Misha seemed lost in thought and asked, "Is he still alive?"
[Stelle] didn't answer.
But Misha already knew the answer.
"I see."
"Well, it has been a long time."
"But... there's no point in me keeping this... You should hold onto it."
"It's fine. Think of it as a memento."
"After all, it's one of the few traces he left in this world. Let it rest with you both."
"...Alright then."
Misha nodded, not refusing. He placed the bullet next to the old man in the wheelchair.
"Then, I leave the future of Penacony... to you."
With those words, he dissipated into specks of starlight.
After the Astral Express crew paid their respects, they left the rooftop. March sidled up to [Stelle], asking like a curious child:
"Hey, what was that bullet all about?"
"It's a call to arms for the Galaxy Rangers. When it's fired, it signals to all other Rangers that the holder is facing an 'injustice and unfairness' they cannot overcome alone."
"Then, all the Galaxy Rangers will rush to that location."
"...All of them... That sounds really impressive..."
"If you want one, here."
As she spoke, [Stelle] casually tossed one to March.
"Huh? How do you have another one?!"
"This one is mine."
"...Aren't you from Glamoth?"
"I guess you could say that."
"The nature of this bullet probably isn't as complicated as you think. In essence, it's like this hat—a crystallization of the Path of the Hunt."
Although Boothill had said that only those who had rendered meritorious service to the Galaxy Rangers could obtain this bullet, and only Rangers knew how to use it...
When [Stelle] got the bullet from Acheron, he knew that was only a partial truth.
Just as the Xianzhou uses the Cloud-Peering Mirrors to guide the arrows of the Divine Bow, this bullet was a similar device. It marks a point on the Path of the Hunt, guiding those who follow the Hunt towards the direction where the bullet was fired.
Anyone walking the Path of the Hunt would inevitably be able to see it.
The Galaxy Rangers were just particularly sensitive to it.
Because it was created through the self-sacrifice of a Galaxy Ranger who had delved deep into the Path of the Hunt.
In short: one bullet costs one veteran Galaxy Ranger.
It was truly a product of the Hunt.
"Alright, next up is the Penacony Grand Theater."
"The Grand Theater...? What are we going there for? The Charmony Festival isn't for a while, right?"
"Of course, it's to meet the person in charge of the Family."
"Although I personally have no strong feelings about him... since we've inherited the Clockmaker's will, as Nameless—and as Stelle right now—we have to face him, don't we?"
[Stelle] added, "You might not believe this, but Mr. Sunday, the head of the Family, is probably more devoted to the 'Three-Eyed God' than the 'Thousand-Faced God'."
"...I know about the Thousand-Faced God... the Aeon of Harmony. But the Three-Eyed God..."
"Ena of the Order."
"Huh? Ena?" Hearing Dan Heng's words, March 7's eyes widened.
"Legend has it... during the Swarm Disaster, Ena, the Aeon of Order, fell because of Xipe, the Aeon of Harmony."
Himeko also seemed to understand something, resting her chin on her hand in surprise:
"The head of Penacony, a member of the Family... Mr. Sunday is a follower of Ena? This is..."
How should one put it? It was like an enemy spy becoming their leader. What was worse was that the Family followed the Path of Harmony, and everyone in the universe knew they were famous for their unity. And yet... the head of Penacony was a mole?
She now understood why [Stelle] said the Express had to go.
Because Ena, the Aeon of Order, was in some ways an enemy of the Trailblaze.
Order was about controlling everything, which made it particularly dislike variables and accidents.
And the Trailblaze... could accept the unknown, but absolutely could not accept the unknowable.
They arrived at the Penacony Grand Theater.
Inside, they could hear Robin's angry scolding:
"Brother, you can't do this!"
Robin was confronting Sunday, a rare look of anger on her face as she stared at him.
"Glamoth is proof."
"But Glamoth is by no means Order!"
"Trust me, sister. When Order replaces all this, everything will only get better."
"Is that really so? Then why can't I see a single trace of the future's color in your eyes, brother?"
"...You're here. I'm sorry."
Noticing the arrival of [Stelle] and the Express crew, Robin took a deep breath and apologized, "I never imagined my brother was plotting something like this."
"It seems my words did help you," [Stelle] said.
"I am grateful for that."
"It's fine. I just don't want to see a harmonious family devolve into a major domestic abuse scene," the gray-haired girl shrugged.
"...You're joking."
"So, do you need more time?"
"...Yes, please give me a little time. I will definitely make my brother..."
"There's no need to say more, sister."
"Look at the Penacony of today."
"Even within the Family, which the world believes is united as one, there is so much discord... Those who come to Penacony with their desires—sister, have you seen how they look?"
"Only the guidance of Order can change all this. Only Order can lead Penacony to a better future."
"This is also the expectation of everyone in the Oak Family."
"Is there no turning back, brother?"
Faced with Robin's words, Sunday remained silent, merely turning his gaze away.
"Robin, can you give me that necklace you're wearing?" [Stelle] asked.
"Huh? Why such a sudden request... I don't mind, but..." Robin, who was about to say more, paused at [Stelle]'s request. Although she didn't mind, she was somewhat hesitant.
"It's fine, just give it to me."
"...Alright then." Listening to the girl's cool voice and being stared at by those golden eyes, she felt an inexplicable sense of reassurance and trust. She slowly unfastened the choker she wore to cover something up. The moment she took it off, March 7 gasped.
"That's a huge scar!"
Sunday's gaze also shot over, his eyes narrowing slightly, his thoughts unreadable.
At that moment, Robin, who had subconsciously been hiding the scar, suddenly realized something and looked sharply at him.
"Brother, you..."
"Sister, this is for everyone... and for you."
"Forgive me."
As a crow landed on his shoulder, a strange power emerged.
In the next moment... something seemed to change.
"So this is the Dream of Unity (Ena)?"
[Stelle] stood calmly, looking at the peacefully sleeping Astral Express crew before glancing at Sunday on the stage.
The latter's pupils trembled slightly as he muttered in a low voice:
"...Not even a flicker of hesitation."
"Isn't that to be expected?"
"...I had anticipated it, but I didn't think it would be to this extent..."
"Spare me the flattery. I'm not interested."
The girl waved her hand and sat down cross-legged.
"Order... you still think this is the best way to save Penacony?"
"Glamoth has already proven everything."
"Glamoth has never deprived people of their freedom."
"Choosing Order inevitably requires trade-offs... At least, it is far more correct than Harmony."
"The people of Penacony will find happiness."
"I personally don't think that's true happiness. You've simply stolen their future."
"Furthermore..."
"You talk so much about happiness, so why can't I see a single trace of it in your eyes?"
"You steal people's futures, letting them indulge in sweet dreams from which they cannot escape... you don't seem to have considered their own wishes at all. You just manipulate their lives with your own ideas. Hmm, that includes your beloved sister, Robin."
"You never actually considered their thoughts or their feelings, did you."
"I'm telling you..."
[Stelle], sitting cross-legged and resting her chin on her hand, looked down at Sunday on the stage and said, word by word:
"You, you're a person who only thinks about yourself."