Warmth.
Not the fevered, burning strain of overexerted power—real warmth. Gentle and golden, pulsing beneath his skin like a heartbeat in sync with the coin resting against his chest.
Ethan blinked, sunlit flecks dancing in his eyes as he woke to silence and light.
For a moment, he didn't move. The sterile ceiling of the Medical Bay stared back at him
. His body was light. Whole. The coin on his chest was warm—alive—like it knew today was different.
He sat up slowly, fingers brushing the token.
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, humming quietly. Something familiar. A tune that echoed like waves over a distant shore—like memory.
After slipping back into his clothes and rolling his shoulders experimentally (no pain—huh), he stepped out of the medical bay, the sliding doors parting with a soft hiss.
The hallway beyond was quiet… mostly.
He heard a rustle.
Then a grunt.
Then—"Got it!"
Ethan tilted his head, coin already spinning in his fingers. It was a reflex now—an anchor.
He followed the sound around the corner and stopped dead.
Stelle.Kneeling by a garbage bag. No—in a garbage bin. Half her upper body was swallowed by it, legs sticking out, boots flailing slightly as she rooted around with purpose.
Ethan blinked. "...Are you okay?"
Her voice was muffled. "Yup! Totally fine! Just trying to get—uh—hang on—ow, that's my elbow!"
He waited a beat, then another. Finally:"Are you a raccoon now?"
She popped her head out, holding up what looked like a rusted metal clamp and a cracked bobblehead. "I prefer 'interstellar scavenger.' These are treasures, thank you very much."
He stared. "From a trash bin."
"Exactly. One person's space junk is another person's future antique." She frowned, squirming. "...Okay, problem. I might be slightly stuck."
Ethan grinned, spinning the coin across his knuckles. "So this is how the Galactic Baseballer goes out. Death by dumpster dive."
"Ha ha," she deadpanned. "Now help me out before I lose my other boot."
With a chuckle, he walked over and gently took her by the waist, bracing his foot as he pulled. After a moment of resistance, she popped free—like a cork—sending them both stumbling a little. Ethan caught his balance just in time, hands steadying her.
"You good?"
Stelle brushed hair from her face, looking mildly victorious despite the trash. "Perfect. And you're strong. Solar-powered muscles, huh?"
"I guess," Ethan said, amused. "And you're heavier than you look."
"Excuse me?"
"Kidding," he said quickly, both hands raised. "I swear on the coin."
She narrowed her eyes but laughed. "You're lucky I like you, Sun Boy."
"Back at you, Garbage Girl."
Trinkets and wrappers clattered to the floor around her. She clutched a dented silver bobblehead like it was sacred.
"Victory!" she declared, raising the trinket to the stars—or at least the ceiling. "Behold! A limited edition… uh… guy-in-a-suit figurine?"
Ethan laughed. "That's either a rare treasure or someone's old paperweight."
"It's got vibes," she said solemnly.
She dusted herself off and offered a smug smile. "Hey, not everyone has your solar glow. I make do with grit, charm, and the occasional scavenger dive."
"You forgot enthusiasm," Ethan said, holding up his golden coin and letting it spin once between his fingers. "Also, maybe a dumpster diving permit."
She smirked. "Wow. Bold words from a guy who talks to his jewelry."
Ethan raised a brow. "And yet, here you are—being rescued by someone with a golden accessory."
She gave him a playful shove. "Please, this bin's cleaner than some of the places I've crash-landed in."
They shared a brief moment of laughter before Stelle tilted her head. "Glad to see you up and about, by the way. You doing okay? I know you burned through a lot back there."
Ethan's gaze softened. "Yeah. I feel… better. Still figuring out what that means."
Stelle nodded, then pointed dramatically toward the corridor. "Come on, we've got at least an hour before Himeko calls us in for that Important Meeting™. And I, for one, intend to hunt down all the station's forgotten treasures."
He fell in step beside her, smiling faintly. "Just promise not to end up in another bin."
"No promises," she said with a wink. "A Trash Panda's got to roam."
The hallway curved ahead, dim in patches but flecked with flickering lights from cracked panels and exposed wiring. The aftermath of the Antimatter Legion's assault still lingered—burn marks on walls, dented support beams—but there was a strange peace to it now. Like the worst had passed.
Ethan walked beside Stelle, coin twirling steadily in his fingers. The rhythm grounded him, a golden pulse keeping time with his thoughts.
"So," she said after a beat, still cradling the dented bobblehead in one arm like a trophy. "What do we do now, Sun Boy? Want to hit the control room? Or are you in the mood for more gloriously unsanitary treasure hunts?"
He gave her a sideways glance. "I think I'll pass on the raccoon cosplay for now."
"Rude. That's 'interstellar scavenger' to you."
Ethan smirked. "You keep saying that, and one day the bins are going to unionize."
"I hope they do," she said cheerfully. "Then maybe they'll stop squeaking every time I lean in."
He chuckled softly, but the moment quieted as they turned a corner. In the distance, the faint hum of machinery buzzed like a sleeping giant. A flickering maintenance drone sputtered overhead, scanning the cracked floor, then retreating into the ceiling.
"You know," Stelle said, her tone easing, "I didn't think I'd get attached to this place. Just another broken-down station in a galaxy full of them. But… I don't know. Feels different now."
Ethan didn't answer right away. He stared at the wall ahead, where a scorch mark still glowed faintly with residual heat. "I get that," he said eventually. "It's the people, I think."
Stelle bumped his shoulder lightly. "Even when they dive into trash cans?"
"Especially then."
They walked a little farther in silence, their footsteps soft against the metal grates. Ethan could feel the hum of the coin against his skin again—warm, pulsing like a second heart.
She eyed him sidelong. "You really doing okay?"
"I am," he said. "For once, I'm not pretending."
A pause. Then:
"You know," she said casually, "if you ever want to talk about the stuff you've been through, I'm all ears. Well—one ear, technically. The other one's reserved for overhearing anything that sounds like hidden loot."
He raised an eyebrow. "Strategic listening. Impressive."
"Thank you. I try."
"Sounds like a solid philosophy."
"Yup," she said proudly. "And now you're stuck with it."
"Could be worse," Ethan said, letting the coin flip into the air. It caught the light and spun like a miniature sun before landing in his palm.
They reached a maintenance deck overlooking the station's lower levels. Below, engineers in patched uniforms worked to restore power to damaged systems. Sparks flew. Lights buzzed. Life, rebuilding itself.
Stelle leaned on the railing, her eyes scanning the work below. "It's weird," she said quietly. "We stopped a crisis. But it doesn't feel like an ending."
"That's because it's not," Ethan replied. "It's a turning point."
She looked at him, brows lifted. "That was kind of poetic."
"I have my moments."
They stayed there for a little while—two teens standing at the edge of something vast and strange, but not quite so scary anymore.
Then a voice crackled over the comms in the hallway speakers:
"Stelle. Ethan. Please report to the Master Control Zone."
It was Himeko. Calm, warm, expectant.
"Well," Stelle said, straightening, "guess it's time for that 'important talk.' Think they're kicking us out?"
"Doubt it," Ethan said, tucking the coin beneath his shirt. "But something tells me it's going to change everything."
"Better not be another duty assignment," Stelle muttered.
They turned and walked back the way they came, toward the Master Control Zone—and whatever future waited for them.
The Master Control Zone buzzed with renewed energy, the kind that followed a storm once it had passed. Engineers moved between terminals, recalibrating instruments and rerouting power. On the upper platform, a gathering was already underway.
Himeko stood near the central console, flanked by Welt and Asta. Beside them, a small figure floated midair—arms crossed, hair in tight twin-tails, and a distinctly unimpressed expression.
As Ethan and Stelle stepped into view, Himeko smiled.
"Perfect timing," she said. "I'd like to introduce you to the true master of the space station—Genius Society Number 83: Herta."
"A genius," Herta said coolly, floating forward with a slow spin, "the real one."
Her eyes landed on Stelle, narrowing with immediate interest. "So this little twerp has the Stellaron, huh?"
Stelle blinked. "Uh—pardon?"
Herta drifted closer, circling her like a drone examining a particularly odd artifact. "Fascinating. I designed this entire station to contain a Stellaron. Layers of quantum shielding, an army of researchers, and yet someone decided to just… shove it into this little twerp's body."
She stopped midair and stared. "How? Why? Who thought this was a good idea?"
Himeko cleared her throat. "The Stellaron is perfectly stable in Stelle's body, Herta. We've run the diagnostics twice."
Herta tilted her head, spinning slowly. "You're right. It is stable. Which makes it even stranger. The data doesn't lie—this shouldn't work. And yet it does. I hate paradoxes."
Stelle crossed her arms. "Also, could you stop calling me 'little twerp'?"
Herta ignored her. "Can I take her for research?"
Himeko offered a diplomatic smile. "It's not my call. Stelle decides that."
Stelle raised an eyebrow. "Do I get paid?"
At that, Herta froze mid-spin. Then she grinned.
"This little twerp's financially motivated?" she said, genuinely impressed. "I like it."
She floated backward with a thoughtful hum. "Very well. I'm interested now. Not just in the Stellaron—but in how you're handling it. I'll offer full accommodations here on the station. Salary, equipment access, and room service if I remember we have that. You should be grateful—I don't offer my help lightly. Not even the IPC can buy my services. Of course," she added with a shrug, "not permanently. Just until I lose interest. Then you can go."
She turned to Ethan next, her eyes gleaming. "And you, with the solar coin… I don't know what that thing is, but I want to. My offer stands for you as well. Think about it."
Ethan blinked. "Uh…"
Before he could say anything else, Himeko gently stepped between them with her usual warm composure.
"Thank you, Madam Herta. That's quite the generous offer," she said diplomatically. "But we also wanted to extend a different invitation."
She glanced between Stelle and Ethan, then continued. "The Astral Express is departing today. A new trail lies ahead, and Welt and I both believe you'd be excellent additions to our crew."
Stelle looked surprised. "You mean, officially?"
Welt stepped forward. "It's your choice, of course. But you've proven yourselves more than capable. And we'd be honored to have you join us."
Asta nodded enthusiastically beside him. "You both helped save the station. I just wanted to say… thank you. From everyone here."
Ethan smiled faintly, a little overwhelmed. "You're welcome."
Himeko stepped closer to Ethan, voice soft. "This isn't just about ability. It's about spirit. About heart. You've got that in spades."
Then she turned to Stelle. "And you… you walked through danger without blinking. Galactic Baseballer or not, you've already started forging a path. We'd be lucky to travel it with you."
Stelle looked between them, her fingers brushing the bobblehead still tucked under her arm. "So… two choices. Stay here with Genius Girl, or hop on the space train with you lot."
"But it's more than that," Himeko said, turning her gaze to Ethan. "I know you're still searching—for answers, for your father. Maybe even for yourself. And I think the Express might offer more than just a path forward. It might offer… a home."
"You've already proven what kind of person you are," Welt said. "We'd be lucky to have you."
Ethan blinked and looked down, his fingers tightening around the coin.
For a second, the room faded. All he could see was his father's silhouette swallowed by the storm, all he could hear was that last, crackling voice on the radio: Flip it, Ethan.
He held up the coin now and let it spin in the air—just once. It landed in his palm with a soft click.
"I appreciate the offer, Madam Herta," he said, voice clear. "But I think my best shot at finding answers is out there—with the Express. I accept."
Himeko gave him a warm, approving nod.
Then Ethan turned to Stelle, tilting his head. "If March and Dan Heng are already on the Express, and I'm the new guy now… what exactly are you still thinking about?"
Stelle smirked, bobblehead still tucked under one arm. "You're right."
She raised her hand like a dramatic announcement. "The Galactic Baseballer is ready to start her grand interstellar adventure!"
Welt let out the faintest chuckle. Asta clapped her hands. Herta looked amused and vaguely baffled.
Himeko added warmly, "And if you too ever decide to take Madam Herta up on her offer, you're welcome to return to the station anytime. Just let us know, and I'll set an appointment with Arlan and Asta to help make space in Herta's schedule."
Herta perked up slightly. "Now that's smart. Keeps them fresh."