The sterile glow of the medical bay hummed low and constant. Soft pulses of light blinked on the vitals monitor beside Ethan's bed. His skin, pale but faintly luminous, gleamed with a film of sweat. His coin—still looped on the leather cord—rested against his chest, warm with a quiet shimmer.
Welt stood silently near the terminal, scanning the readouts. His hands were clasped behind his back, eyes thoughtful.
Himeko was seated at Ethan's bedside, arms gently folded, gaze never leaving the boy's sleeping face.
Welt: "Still stable. But his temperature just spiked again."
Ethan shifted. His brow creased, lips parting in a soft, hoarse whisper:
"...Father… wait… don't go again… please…"
A beat of silence followed. Himeko's expression softened—motherly, concerned. Welt looked up sharply.
Himeko (quietly): "He's having a nightmare."
Golden sparks flickered faintly at Ethan's fingertips. His body tensed, then fell still again. Himeko reached out and gently laid a hand over his.
"He's burning through himself just to stay alive. That's not instinct. That's heartbreak."Himeko said softley
Welt: "Wherever he's from... whoever he was before—he lost something. Someone."
A pause.
Himeko: "We can't send him off alone. Not like this."
Welt (nodding): "Then we offer him something better. A path forward. A home… and maybe, in time, a way to find his father."
Suddenly, Ethan inhaled sharply—and snapped awake, eyes wild with panic. His chest rose and fell rapidly. Drenched in sweat, he blinked at the white lights like they burned.
"W-Where—?!"
Himeko: "Shhh, easy now."She leaned in, voice calm and steady."You're safe, Ethan. You're on the Herta Space Station. You're with friends."
Ethan looked down, disoriented. Then his hand found the coin on his chest and clenched it tight.
"I thought I was back in the storm again… I saw that violet light—it always comes before everything vanishes…"
Himeko: "That storm's behind you now."She spoke softly, as if anchoring him in the present."You cried out for your father."
Ethan's shoulders stiffened. He didn't meet her eyes.
"He vanished. One second he was beside me… next second, lightning swallowed the sea.""All I had left was this coin."
Welt (gently): "And now, it's bound to something far greater."
Welt took a step closer, offering a faint, respectful nod.
"My name is Welt Yang. I'm a senior member of the Astral Express. It's good to finally meet you, Ethan."
Ethan's eyes flicked to him. He gave a slow, tired nod in return.
"You're the one reading my vitals, huh?"
Welt (light chuckle): "Among other things."
Himeko: "Mr. Yang is someone you can trust. He brings a lot of experience—and even more insight."
Welt (gently): "And like you, I know what it means to carry a heavy past."
Himeko: "We'd like to help you understand what that means. What you mean."
Ethan's gaze flicked between them, still guarded—but something in him eased.
"You don't even know what I am."
Himeko (smiling): "We know enough. And what we don't? We'll figure out. Together."
Ethan sat up slowly, the sheet falling from his shoulders. The fever had faded, but exhaustion clung to him like smoke. He tugged the leather cord gently, drawing the golden coin into his hand. Flip. Catch. Flip. Catch.
The coin glinted in the light, smooth and whole.
The door hissed open—and March 7th practically bounced in, followed by Dan Heng and Stelle trailing behind.
March 7th: "Hey! Look who's awake—and not cracking apart like a vase!"
Ethan blinked at her. She grinned wider.
"I mean, seriously, you had light leaking out of you. Like, glowing lines across your arms and face. It was awesome... and terrifying. I thought you were gonna explode."
Ethan (dryly): "Guess I've got a flair for dramatic exits."
She walked over and gave him a soft punch on the arm.
March: "You protected me, y'know. When that laser attack came down—I saw you step in front of it. No hesitation. You took the full blast."
Ethan gave a small nod.
Ethan: "Didn't plan it. I just moved."
March: "Still. I mean it."
She paused, and for just a second, her bubbly expression wavered.
"I really freaked out when you collapsed. All that light pouring out of you—I didn't know what to do. If Mr. Yang hadn't been there to stop it from... from spreading—"
She stopped herself and forced a smile again.
"Anyway. You're okay now. That's what matters."
There was a beat of sincerity in her tone, but it passed as quickly as it came. She gave a bright hum and twirled around.
"Sooo, since everyone's here—group hug? Or do we do the whole brooding silent nod thing?"
Dan Heng raised a brow.
Dan Heng: "Let's try... mutual respect and light conversation."
He stepped forward, standing near Ethan.
Dan Heng: "You acted with instinct and purpose. That's not something everyone can manage, especially under pressure."
Ethan studied him for a moment—then nodded.
Ethan: "And you moved like you've done this a hundred times. Clean. Focused."
Dan Heng: "Takes one to know one."
They shared the smallest, knowing smirk. It felt like an unspoken agreement: mutual warriors in chaos.
Stelle plopped down on the edge of Ethan's bed with her usual swagger, spinning her bat idly.
Stelle: "You guys are all dramatic. I could've soloed that Doomsday Beast, easy. I was just giving everyone else a chance to feel useful."
March: "Uh-huh. And you totally weren't screaming 'Not the face!' the first time it looked at you."
Stelle: "Tactical screaming. Builds tension."
March: "Say cheese~!"
She whipped out her camera without warning, clicking a photo of Ethan mid-blink.
Ethan: "Wait—what—?"
March: "Too late! That one's going on the wall. Hold still!"
She shuffled everyone closer, dragging Dan Heng into frame (he sighed but didn't resist), then looped an arm around Stelle.
March: "C'mon, you too, Baseball Star. Smile for your adoring fans."
Stelle: "Ugh, no pictures! I don't need my heroic legend reduced to awkward flash photography."
March: "Say that again, but this time with jazz hands."
Click. Another photo, this one blurry because Stelle tried to swat the camera.
Ethan (grinning faintly): "Do you always do this after near-death experiences?"
March: "Absolutely. Best time for candids."
Ethan chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. The warmth of the room—not just the literal heat, but the presence of people who cared—settled in around him.
He flipped the coin once more.
"Maybe I landed on the right side this time."
Laughter still lingered in the air, fading slowly as the energy in the room mellowed. March tucked her camera back into her satchel, grinning as she admired the photo she'd snapped with Ethan. Stelle had backed away after grumbling something about "weird traditions," and Dan Heng leaned quietly against the wall, arms folded.
Himeko smiled warmly at the scene but eventually raised a hand to gather everyone's attention.
"It's getting late," she said gently. "Tomorrow, the Astral Express will be departing."
March's grin softened. "Oh… right. Already?"
Dan Heng straightened. "We won't be staying much longer on the station."
Himeko nodded, then looked toward March and Dan Heng specifically. "You two should try to get some rest. Big day ahead."
March gave Ethan a quick double thumbs-up before turning to leave. "Sleep well, Magic Boy. Don't let the space bugs bite."
Dan Heng gave Ethan a subtle nod of respect before following March out.
As the door closed behind them, Himeko's gaze drifted to Stelle and Ethan. "You two, I'd like to speak with you tomorrow morning. Meet me in the Master Control Zone—I have something important to share."
Stelle tilted her head but shrugged. "Alright. If it's not about scheduled maintenance again, I'm in."
Himeko chuckled softly, then turned to Ethan with a small wave. "Get some rest. You've earned it."
Welt, who had stayed silent through most of the chatter, stepped up beside her. His voice was kind but measured. "Goodnight, Ethan. And… thank you. I hope tomorrow offers something better. A way forward. Maybe even a way to find what you're searching for."
Ethan's hand instinctively moved to the coin resting against his chest.
"Thanks," he said quietly.
The two adults exchanged a glance, then turned and left, the door hissing closed behind them.
Silence.
Ethan sat still for a moment, his fingers slowly rolling the coin across his knuckles. The light in the room had dimmed just enough to feel like evening, though time in the stars was never simple.
His thoughts drifted.
Will I ever find him?
The memory of the storm—the way the sky cracked open, the impossible violet light swallowing everything—burned in his mind. His father, Luca, reaching out before the chaos dragged him away. A token, warm and golden, left in Ethan's hand.
No normal man could survive that.
But maybe…
Maybe he wasn't just a normal man.
Ethan sighed, letting his head fall back against the pillow. He began to hum—a slow, tuneless melody. Something from long ago, lost in the radio static of a broken station back on Earth.
The warmth of the coin matched the quiet vibration in his chest. He felt it even as his breathing slowed.
And this time, when sleep came, he didn't fight it.