The coin spun once more, slow and uneven, before slipping from Ethan's fingers and landing on the couch cushion beside him.Tails. Of course.
He let his eyes close, body sinking deeper into the fabric. Every muscle throbbed, not in pain exactly—more like protest. His limbs were sandbags. His bones hummed like struck glass.
Across the room, the others kept their voices low. He could hear March's giggle, the calm cadence of Dan Heng, Stelle's bat thunking lightly against the wall as she leaned into it with a quiet sigh.
For a moment, Ethan let himself drift.
Then footsteps.
He cracked one eye open as Himeko returned, now holding a steaming mug. She crouched beside him again, her expression softer this time.
"Still alive, I see," she said with a half-smile.
"Debatable," Ethan rasped. "If this is heaven, it's underfunded."
Himeko chuckled and held out the mug. "Caf-free stimulant. Won't fix the exhaustion, but it'll tell your brain to pretend it has."
Ethan pushed himself up enough to accept it. The warmth in his hands was grounding.
"Thank you," he said, quietly sincere.
Himeko's eyes flicked to the coin beside him. "You always flip it?"
"Only when it matters." He took a sip. "Sometimes I pretend it doesn't."
She tilted her head. "That coin… it resonates. Like the Stellaron—but different. Older. Stranger."
Ethan didn't answer. He just kept sipping the drink.
Himeko let the silence sit for a moment, then continued, gentler. "Whatever it is, it isn't just a tool. It's bonded to you. Symbiotic."
"Sounds romantic," he muttered.
"It's a responsibility," she replied, voice turning thoughtful. "And a question you'll eventually have to answer. Why you?"
Ethan didn't respond. He stared into his cup like it held the truth at the bottom.
A little later...
"Yo, Magic Boy still breathing?" March's voice rang out cheerfully as she jogged over, flopping onto the armrest beside Ethan's couch like it belonged to her.
Ethan raised a brow. "Barely."
"You looked like you got hit by a truck full of smaller trucks," she said, poking his shoulder. "Seriously. I thought that shield thing fried your brain."
Dan Heng arrived behind her, arms crossed. "You overextended. You're not trained to handle that kind of energy yet."
"Thanks, Dad," Ethan said dryly.
March grinned. "I dunno, I thought it was kinda heroic. You went all 'shield of the sun' and saved us. Like—poof! Pew! Boom!"
Ethan chuckled weakly. "That your official battle report?"
"Yep! Filed under: 'Magic Boy being awesome despite questionable judgment.'"
Dan Heng gave a small sigh, though the corner of his mouth twitched—almost a smile.
March stood and offered Ethan a half-crushed energy bar. "You did forget to eat, didn't you?"
Ethan took it gratefully.
Stelle arrived next, quieter than the others.She didn't say anything at first—just sat across from him, studying his face.
Finally: "That wasn't the first time, was it? Using your powers like that."
Ethan's hand tightened slightly around the coin. "No."
"How many times?"
"…Two."
Stelle nodded once, her fingers drumming lightly on her knee. "You looked like you were burning out from the inside."
"I was."
She met his gaze evenly. "You're strong. But you're not invincible. Don't pretend you are."
"I don't," Ethan said. "I just… act like it until I'm not needed."
For a moment, there was nothing but the hum of the lounge lights.
Then Stelle stood, her expression unreadable. "Next time, don't act. Ask."
And she walked away.
The others drifted back to their spots—sleep calling, adrenaline fading.
Ethan sat alone now, the couch too big, the quiet too sharp. The coin glowed faintly under his fingers, warm despite the cool air.
He felt it before he heard it.
A shift. A flicker in the air, like the whisper of static through old speakers. The lounge lights dimmed for a fraction of a second.
Then—
"Sunny."
The voice coiled into the room like smoke, velvet and teasing. Kafka.
Ethan's head snapped up. No one else reacted.
The coin in his hand pulsed once.
A shimmer of pink and static danced across the glass pane beside him—and there she was. Not in the flesh, not quite. A projected echo, standing with arms crossed, smiling like she knew the ending of a joke no one else had read.
"Didn't burn out yet. Good." Kafka's eyes gleamed. "Though you've used your little tricks more than you should."
Ethan stood slowly, voice low. "You're not supposed to be here."
"Oh, Sunny. I'm never supposed to be anywhere. That's half the fun."
She stepped forward—through the projection, not bound by its edges.
"Tell me," she purred. "Did the coin whisper when you blocked that arrow? Or did it scream?"
He didn't answer.
Kafka smirked. "Still don't want to ask the obvious question? Like why a piece of solar nonsense from Earth reacts to Stellaron corruption?" Her tone softened. "Or maybe who really forged it?"
Ethan's knuckles whitened around the coin. "…What do you know?"
Kafka winked. "More than you. Less than Elio. But don't worry—we're both watching."
And with that, her image dissolved—like smoke curling into nothing.
The static haze left behind by Kafka's projection shimmered once more—then dissipated.
Ethan stood still for a moment longer, the coin warm against his palm.
The lounge lights buzzed back to full brightness, and with it came hurried footsteps and a familiar voice.
"There you are!" A sharp, exasperated voice echoed from the hallway. A woman in a lab coat and twin braids stepped in—eyes wide with urgency.
March jumped up from her seat. "Asta?"
The woman gave a brief nod to the girl before glancing at the others—and freezing when she saw Ethan and Stelle.
"You must be the ones who helped clear the intrusion," she said quickly. "I'm Asta—lead researcher of the Herta Space Station. No time for formalities, I'm afraid."
Stelle raised an eyebrow, giving Ethan a quick side glance. Ethan, still shaken but hiding it well, gave a shallow nod.
"I'm Ethan Sol. This is—"
"Stelle," the silver-haired girl offered with a nod of her own.
"Great. You're both with the Astral Express now, right? Then follow me. The situation's gotten worse."
Asta turned, already moving, motioning for the group to follow.
They didn't hesitate.
Control Hub – A Few Minutes Later
The control room was alive with red alerts flashing across every screen. Technicians ran from panel to panel, shouting coordinates and damage assessments. Himeko stood by the main console, her arms crossed and expression grim.
She turned when she heard footsteps. "Finally. You're all here."
"Asta filled us in," Dan Heng said quietly. "The Unknown entity activity has escalated."
"Escalated and converged," Himeko corrected. "It's drawing in—something massive. Welt and Pom-Pom rerouted the Express early. It's on its way, but…"
"But you want us gone before whatever it is arrives," Stelle said.
Asta nodded tightly. "The beast approaching we just confirmed it... it's unlike anything we've recorded. The Doomsday Beast. It's converging on the port platform."
March paled. "W-We're still down there! That's where the Express is coming in!"
"Then we intercept it first," Ethan said simply. His tone was calm—but that same hum was building in his chest again. Solar energy throbbed beneath his skin, like a drumbeat getting louder.
Himeko stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Only if you're sure you can still fight."
He met her eyes. "I don't flip the coin for maybe."
The team sprinted through the collapsing corridors of the space station. Lights flickered. The air itself felt heavier.
Then they reached the platform—and the roof above them shattered.
The Doomsday Beast crashed down, metal and stone exploding outward. The force of its landing knocked everyone back, and for a moment, the platform was a blur of smoke and howling wind.
Dan Heng struck first, his spear cutting through the air—but the tip barely scratched the beast's armored shoulder. Sparks flew, but no blood. No pain.
"Not even a Scratch," he muttered.
Stelle followed, bat in hand. She leapt in, swinging hard across its foreleg. The hit connected with a resounding clang, but the beast only turned its head slightly—annoyed, not harmed.
March fired off a charged arrow, but it ricocheted harmlessly off its plating. "Seriously?!"
"It's too tough!" Himeko's voice crackled through a nearby console. "Aim for its core or exposed joints! Everything else is just armor!"
The Doomsday Beast roared and retaliated, sweeping one claw across the platform. The team scattered—Dan Heng pulling March back just in time, while Stelle rolled to avoid a crushing blow.
Ethan stepped forward, flipping his coin once. He didn't wait for the result.
Golden energy surged around him as he slammed a foot into the ground. Light flared, but still—
The beast ignored him.
Until it turned toward March again, chest beginning to glow.
A high-pitched hum filled the air.
"Oh no," March whispered. "It's charging—!"
The beam surged toward her like death itself.
Ethan moved before anyone else could react.
A golden barrier erupted from his hand just as the beam hit, a wide, radiant dome forming between March and the blast. The impact shook the entire port.
The shield held—for a second.
Then two.
Cracks spiderwebbed across the surface. Ethan's arms buckled, skin burning with light. The coin at his chest pulsed wildly, resonating.
"Didn't name this yet," he gritted, "but it works."
The beam finally faded. The dome shattered in a burst of glittering fragments. March blinked through the haze, wide-eyed. "You—You stopped that…?"
Ethan dropped to one knee, barely upright. "Yeah. Not doing that again."
But the Doomsday Beast wasn't finished. It roared—louder, more primal—and its core began to glow with unholy intensity.
Ethan looked up. The others were regrouping, but not fast enough.
He had one card left.
The coin spun upward from his hand on its own, igniting mid-air into a burning sphere of light—a miniature sun, pulsing dangerously above his head.
Himeko, watching from the sidelines, gasped. "Is that… a Stellaron reaction?! No—something else—"
Ethan's eyes burned gold as he went it in for devastating Supernova punch. The sky turned white.
The explosion cracked the air, a shockwave rippling across the entire port. The Doomsday Beast reared back in pain for the first time, its massive body smoking, its armor finally torn open to reveal the pulsing, vulnerable core.
"Now!" Himeko shouted. "That did it—strike now!"
Stelle didn't wait. She ran and leapt, her bat gleaming. With all her strength, she smashed it directly into the core.
A sharp, echoing crack split the air.
The core fractured—then imploded.
The Doomsday Beast lay defeated, its core shattered by Stelle's final blow. The battlefield was silent, save for the crackling remnants of energy dissipating into the void.
Ethan stood still for a moment—then dropped.
His skin was glowing, golden cracks running along his arms and neck, light bleeding from his body like steam. He looked ready to burst.
"Ethan!" March was already beside him, grabbing his shoulders.
Ethan's Vision
Ethan found himself in an endless expanse of space, stars stretching infinitely in all directions. The silence was profound, broken only by the distant hum of cosmic energy.
Before him materialized a colossal figure — Nanook, the Aeon of Destruction. Their presence was overwhelming, a manifestation of entropy itself.
Ethan tried to speak, to question, but no words came. His voice was lost in the void.
From his chest, his coin floated upward, drawn toward Nanook. Ethan reached out, desperation in his eyes, but his movements were sluggish, as if time itself resisted him.
Nanook grasped the coin, examining it with a mix of curiosity and recognition.
"This... bears the mark of Destruction," Nanook intoned, their voice resonating through the cosmos. "A fragment of my essence, yet altered."
They extended their hand, returning the coin to Ethan. "Your path is entwined with mine, but your choices remain your own."
With that, Nanook vanished, the stars swallowing their form.
Return to Reality
Welt was there in an instant. He drove his cane into the ground, sending out stabilizing energy. A field of order formed around Ethan, dulling the light, sealing the cracks—barely.
"You went too far," Welt said quietly. "Reckless… but impressive."
Himeko knelt beside him, voice tight. "We'll talk about what that was later. For now—just breathe."
Nearby, Stelle staggered, her eyes wild with the remnants of her vision. Energy flared around her, uncontrolled.
Welt moved swiftly, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. "Focus, Stelle. You're here. You're safe."
The energy subsided, the chaos within her quelled by Welt's presence.