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However, before we could even exchange a few words, a sharp alarm echoed through the station—the Antimatter Legion was attacking!
The memories that followed became chaotic and tense. The sound of explosions, the screech of twisting metal, March 7th's slightly panicked but determined shouts, and the crisp sound of her ice arrows freezing enemies... Driven almost entirely by instinct, I joined the fight alongside March 7th and the later-arriving, silent man with the spear, Dan Heng.
To be honest, at that time, I hadn't even figured out who I was before being forced into a life-and-death struggle, drifting along the torrent of fate. We stumbled along and eventually reached the deck exposed to the stars, where we encountered the mountain-sized Doomsday Beast. The terrifying pressure still gives me palpitations. Its massive body blotted out the stars, and every roar seemed capable of shattering them.
Although the beautiful Himeko later arrived with the Astral Express to provide support, and the massive cannon atop the train roared to suppress the monster, the situation remained incredibly dangerous.
I remember clearly that during one of the Doomsday Beast's frenzied counterattacks, it ignored the damage from the orbital cannon and opened its maw—large enough to swallow everything—to condense a devastating beam of energy. Its target was March 7th, who was closest to it, trying to restrict its movement with ice!
At that moment, time seemed to slow down. I saw a flash of terror on March 7th's face, saw the destructive light rapidly enlarging in her eyes. I didn't have time to think, not even to shout. Looking at the torrent of energy about to consume her, my body seemed to slip from my brain's control. A mysterious power drove me; my legs surged with force, and I shot forward like an arrow, shielding March 7th with my own body... The intense pain and burning sensation were my last memories before losing consciousness.
When I woke up again, the pungent smell of disinfectant and the feel of soft bedding told me I was no longer on the space station. I saw the familiar, retro-style bedroom ceiling of the Astral Express, emitting a soft, warm light. Beside the bed, March 7th and Himeko were looking at me with concern; March's eyes were even a little red.
They told me that after I fell unconscious, the Stellaron inside my body became extremely unstable due to absorbing too much energy and nearly exploded. It was Mr. Yang, who arrived just in time, using his unknown power—which seemed to warp space-time—to temporarily suppress the Stellaron, saving me, the space station, and March 7th.
Seeing that I had recovered, they both breathed a sigh of relief, only warning me that the Stellaron issue wasn't fundamentally solved and needed further observation. They told me to rest well and not move around.
I lay in bed as exhaustion washed over me like a tide. My ribs and back still ached slightly—marks left by the Doomsday Beast's energy impact. But more than that, I felt a sense of survival and relief. The Express traveled smoothly through the sea of stars; the room held only the low hum of the engine and the dim light from the corridor. The Stellaron... Mr. Yang said it's suppressed for now, but it's like a ticking time bomb...
As I mused, sleepiness returned, and my eyelids grew heavy...
Just before my consciousness sank into darkness, "knock, knock"—two extremely soft knocks, carrying a hint of hesitation, sounded in the silent room. Who would it be this late? Himeko? Or Mr. Yang?
Curious, I struggled out of bed, slipped into the Express-issued slippers, walked to the door, and pushed the handle with some effort. The hinge made a slight "creak" as the door opened a crack. The sight outside made me snap awake instantly, leaving me stunned.
Standing at the door was March 7th. She... she had changed out of her familiar blue skirt and white coat and was wearing a pair of pink rabbit onesie pajamas that looked incredibly soft and comfortable. The long rabbit ears dangled on both sides of the hood, making her look less lively and more... domestically cute.
She stood there daintily, her hands nervously clutching the hem of her pajamas. Her white cheeks were flushed with a suspicious red, and her large eyes blinked, her gaze darting away as if she didn't dare meet my eyes.
"Mar... March?" I spoke with uncertainty, my voice raspy from sleep. "It's so late, is something wrong?"
Hearing my voice, her body seemed to tremble imperceptibly. Then, as if gathering immense courage, she looked up at me quickly before looking back down, her voice thin as a mosquito's buzz: "I... I just... couldn't sleep, so I, I read some manga I brought back from the Xianzhou..."
She paused, her voice even smaller and trembling: "The manga... the manga said... for, for a benefactor who saved one's life... one should... re-repay..." At this point, her voice faded, and her cheeks turned so red they looked ready to drip blood. She couldn't bring herself to say the word "marriage," only fidgeting with her hem. Her embarrassed yet serious look was both exasperating and endearing.
Seeing that my silence made her more flustered, or perhaps finally realizing how ridiculous her words sounded, March 7th let out a low "Yikes!" and suddenly turned around, covering her face and trying to run away.
"Wait!" Almost subconsciously, I reached out and gently grabbed the wrist of her pajama sleeve before she could bolt. Her wrist was thin; through the soft fabric, I could feel the warmth of her skin and a slight tremor. She stopped but didn't turn back, her shoulders shaking slightly as if she were still mortified by her own words.
I didn't know why I pulled her back—maybe I didn't want her to be so embarrassed, or maybe it was... something else. Possessed by some impulse, I gently pulled her back into the room and led her to the bedside. "Sit... sit down and let's talk," I said, my voice still dry.
And so, we sat side by side on the edge of the bed—one in hospital garb, the other in rabbit pajamas. The room was silent save for the sound of light breathing and the faint light cast by distant stars through the window. The air seemed to solidify, thick with an indescribable awkwardness and... a hint of an unusual, ambiguous tension. I could smell the pleasant scent of her body—a mix of body wash and a youthful fragrance. She sat beside me, her body tense, head bowed, thinking of who knows what. As for me, looking at her reddened ears and clenched fists, my mind was a mess; I had no idea what to do next...