Stelle still had that innocent, goofy smile on her face, the kind that says, "I'm such a thoughtful little cotton-padded jacket," completely oblivious that she was dancing on the edge of a volcano about to erupt.
Looking at Ms. Herta's "brilliant" smile, she felt her mediation mission was perfectly accomplished, and her sense of achievement was soaring.
However, Ms. Herta's next words were like a bucket of ice water mixed with ice, poured over her head.
The voice was squeezed out word by word from clenched teeth, with a grating friction that made one's teeth ache:
"I—don't—have—a—sister!"
"You... you've been deceived!"
(Oh, this...)
Stelle's brain went blank for a moment, but immediately, her peculiar thought process started running at high speed, quickly arriving at a "reasonable" explanation:
No sister? How could that be!
Ms. Herta is denying the past! She's avoiding her inner guilt!
That gentle and sad sister was right; Ms. Herta is just an extremely awkward tsundere!
She must be crying inside right now, suffering for her "lack of honesty"!
A strong sense of sympathy and a responsibility of "I must save this lost girl (?)" instantly filled Stelle's chest.
Her gaze towards Ms. Herta was full of immense pity and a firm "I understand everything".
(Sister said that in this situation, it's even more necessary to melt the ice in her heart with love and hugs!)
No sooner said than done, Stelle stepped forward again, and at a speed Ms. Herta couldn't react to, she once again spread her arms and tightly embraced Ms. Herta, full of "familial warmth"!
This time, she even imitated the imagined "Ms. Herta's sister," gently patting Ms. Herta's back with one hand and stroking Ms. Herta's smooth long hair with the other, whispering into Ms. Herta's ear in what she thought was an incredibly gentle voice:
"I know, I know... Little Herta, you've put on that 'mask' again..."
"It's okay, sister won't blame you... everything is in the past..."
"Little... Herta...?"
"Mask...?"
In Ms. Herta's mind, the string named "reason" had been stretched through a series of high-intensity tugs—"sister rumors," "forced hugs," "Ruan Mei's misunderstanding," "exploding doll," "childhood bullying"—and finally, under the ultimate provocation of "Little Herta" and "mask"—
"Snap!"
A crisp snapping sound, as if echoing deep within the soul.
It was her pride as a Genius, her most basic sense of boundaries as an independent individual... all the defenses built up by these were, at this moment, utterly shattered into dust by Stelle's combo of "gentle head pat" combined with "childhood nickname awakening"!
Ms. Herta felt red light flashing at the edges of her vision.
The Space Station's alarm didn't sound, but her personal alarm system had completely crashed.
Time seemed to freeze for a moment.
At the other end of the corridor, March 7th was gesticulating wildly, describing a "vivid" scene of Ms. Herta "rolling down the knowledge ladder as a child" to a dumbfounded Asta.
"...So, Asta, Ms. Herta actually..."
"Bang—!!!"
Before she could finish, a loud bang erupted, and at the same time, a black shadow, accompanied by a sharp whooshing sound, flashed past them at an incredibly terrifying speed!
"Wah!" March 7th jumped back in fright.
Asta was so startled she covered her mouth.
The black shadow accurately slammed into the high-strength observation window on the side of the corridor, designed to withstand meteorite impacts, emitting a dull "bang"!
The window glass vibrated violently, showing the frantic flickering of its internal stress structure, but its quality was ultimately too good, and it didn't shatter.
Then, the figure slowly slid down from the smooth glass surface like a flattened frog, landing with a soft "thud" and even bouncing slightly.
The two looked closely, and it was Stelle!
She seemed to be mostly fine (the power of the Preservation Path truly lived up to its reputation, even though that blow almost shattered the Stellaron).
"Stelle?!" March 7th and Asta exclaimed simultaneously, rushing over.
"Are you okay? How did you..."
Just as March 7th was about to squat down to check, a clear, cold sound of footsteps came from around the corner.
"Thump... thump... thump..."
No emotion could be discerned in the sound, like the death knell, approaching step by step.
The gazes of all three (including Stelle, who had just barely managed to lift her head) simultaneously turned towards the source of the footsteps.
Immediately after, Ms. Herta's figure appeared at the corner.
Her complexion could no longer be described as "dark"; it was an extreme gloom that seemed to absorb all light. The low pressure emanating from her seemed to dim the corridor lights, and a suffocating, terrifying aura filled the air.
The low pressure emanating from her seemed to dim the corridor lights, and a suffocating, terrifying aura filled the air.
In her violet eyes, a cold flame burned, capable of freezing souls.
She walked step by step, her gaze fixed on Stelle, who was sprawled on the ground.
March 7th and Asta froze instantly in fright, like small animals targeted by an ancient beast, holding their breath and instinctively retreating several steps, pressing tightly against the wall.
(It's over! Ms. Herta is... angry?!)
March 7th wailed inwardly.
(W-what happened?! What did Stelle do?!)
Asta's mind was blank, only feeling that Ms. Herta at this moment was billions of times more terrifying than the Antimatter Legion!
Just at this suffocating moment, two other figures rushed over, having heard the loud bang—it was Sister Himeko and Welt.
"What happened?"
Himeko's steady voice rang out, her sharp gaze quickly sweeping over the scene: the cracked observation window, Stelle sprawled on the ground with a blank expression, March 7th and Asta huddled together in fright, and the Space Station's owner, clearly in a furious state, walking step by step.
The experienced navigator immediately realized the situation was serious.
She stepped forward, positioning herself between Stelle and Ms. Herta, trying to ease the tension, her voice as gentle as possible: "Ms. Herta, please calm down. What exactly happened? Stelle, she..."
Before she could finish, the "victim" on the ground seemed to see a savior, suddenly jolting awake, scrambling over with hands and feet like a drowning person grasping a piece of driftwood, tightly hugging Himeko's high-heeled leg, burying her face in her skirt, and crying out (more out of fright):
"Sister Himeko! Help me—!"
"Ms. Herta... she suddenly hit me! And she wants to kill me!"
Stelle's accusation carried twelve parts of grievance, as if she had completely forgotten her own "deeply moving" "comforting" actions just moments ago.
Ms. Herta's footsteps stopped.
Her cold gaze swept past Himeko and landed on Stelle, who was desperately clinging to Himeko's leg, her eyes looking as if at a piece of gum stuck to her shoe sole that she couldn't shake off.
Her chest heaved violently, clearly infuriated again by Stelle's shameless act of being the first to accuse.
She opened her mouth, seemingly wanting to describe this Stelle with the most incisive and venomous words, but extreme anger seemed to have temporarily blocked her proud linguistic center.
She took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled, finally squeezing out two words from between her teeth that, in her vocabulary, could be described as "simple and direct," yet were filled with endless rage and disdain:
"This... this..."
Her slender finger pointed at Stelle, her fingertip trembling slightly, "Idiot! Imbecile!"
These two words seemed to carry immense weight, crashing into the silent corridor.
Welt pushed up his glasses, his brows tightly furrowed. He could tell Ms. Herta was truly furious; otherwise, with her personality, she would never use such... down-to-earth vocabulary.
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