章節 96: Into The Fray
*I'm cooked chat. New chapter tho. Peace out and Deus Vult*
Mark walked away from the scene, smoldering with anger and thoughts, nothing coherent coming to him. The most he could think of was a million ways in which the timeline could be affected. His nose bled for the first time in a long time as the headache began increasing to levels he couldn't fully fathom. It was an impossible task, but he had to hold on. The only thing he could do was go for absolute power, to overcome anything that would come his way.
"Benefactor!"
The voice snapped Mark out of it all, bringing him back into reality and the world around him. For a moment, the air seemed crisper than usual; the memories of a foretold future he changed, hitting him like a bullet to the knee. He spun in place, watching as a joyous Tingyun was dashing his way, waving and smiling like she saw the best deal possible in her history as an Amicassador.
"Benefactor, you're here! Congratulations on winning the Luminary Wardance!" she said, stopping right in front of him, flailing her fluffy tail around. Mark smiled slightly and met her gaze.
The smile she had on dwindled slightly as she finally saw the true tear and wear etched into his features. The traces of purple under his eyes now closer to black, accentuated like never before. Even during his time in the Alchemy Commission after the battle with the Lord Ravager, he didn't look that bad.
"What happened with you?" she asked softly, her tail lowering itself a little, coming to a halt.
"A lot, Tingyun... a lot," he whispered, throwing out no more details than needed. He stared at her, taking in the details of her face, staring into her eyes as if scared that he'd see those burning traces of Phantylia somehow still in her head. Just like him, she saw how deep the hollow, sparkless gaze of his ran, not finding the bottom.
"You seem so down, benefactor. Madam Yukong told me to find you, saying something about needing to talk with you about some specific issue, stating that you should know of it."
Her ears fell down, almost like a sad kitten. She sighed, tugging on his remaining sleeve.
"She also got dragged to some party after General Feixiao came by and heard of it, saying that it would be the best way to get you to attend."
Mark sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, almost crashing out mentally. One day he would somehow make Feixiao grow a tail and pull on it just for the hell of it.
"Wait, I could do this now, maybe with the Abundance... never mind, scrap that."
She tugged on his sleeve slightly, hoping that he'd go with her.
"Fine, fine, no need to pull on my sleeve like that. I'll just tag along, alright?"
She smiled, beaming as he relented and decided to just go along rather than fight it off for longer.
"Perfect, benefactor. Don't worry, they have good alcohol prepared, top quality, and perfect for you to enjoy."
He chuckled slightly, shaking his head a little while following the foxian, her joy contagious to a certain degree. It almost felt like he was back to playing the game and laughing at how quickly she wanted to be rid of extra responsibility, even though that was Phantylia. Still, she did mimic Tingyun, so one could argue that the behavior was true at the core.
She walked eagerly, her steps springy, moving by his side while humming happily.
"Benefactor, do you have any interesting stories from your travels?" she asked, smiling like a child eager for a story. Mark sighed, rubbing his chin in thought.
"Well, not a lot of interesting stuff happened," he answered curtly, not really eager to talk or discuss too much about his endeavors.
She puffed her cheeks, her ears moving down once more.
"You're no fun, benefactor. What about that title of 'Saviour of the Dream'? Come on, there has to be a story about it."
He sighed, clenching his jaw slightly, his eyes darting to his new arm on pure reflex, the feeling of his own blood running through it suddenly a weird notion. It wasn't his flesh, the one he had been born with, but something strange that ran beyond his full comprehension.
"Story," he whispered, thinking about Himeko and that scene in his mind, the gentle passion of the kiss lingering as the most beautiful memory ever since he had arrived in that world. Even then, it went up in flames the very next second, and the feeling wasn't even real—it took place in his mind, a different plane of existence. Still, the emotion was there, and both could communicate it with that gesture.
Tingyun awaited, eager to hear what the man had to say. With a bitter sigh, Mark's gaze softened, giving way to a touch of resignation and resentment for none other than himself.
"Just call me Mark, alright, Tingyun? I'm not one for titles and stuff. Benefactor, whatever... I just want to be me."
She nodded, her expression softening.
"I will. My apologies, Mark."
Still, she waited, hoping to hear at least something of the events that had earned him that title. With a reluctant movement of his lips, the words began flowing out, speaking of his battle with the creature, but he didn't discuss what it was. Some things were better left unsaid to some, known only by a few. Tingyun listened intently, focused on each word that left his lips, absorbing it all like a sponge. He described his battle to the best of his abilities, motioning with his hands, showing as much as he could however he could, summoning the Sword of Will itself to show it off.
Their whole talk lasted until they reached the entrance to the Seat of Divine Foresight, where Jing Yuan's office could be found. Mark's eyes took a long look at the area, his words halting in his throat.
"That's an amazing story, Mark. Your arm grew back after that happened, and now you're even stronger than before. You saved your friends and everyone else, thus preserving the Dream. I'm impressed," she smiled softly, her friendly demeanor melting his resistance. He was cursing himself for being so soft at the core.
"It is what it is. Stuff happens, and I just roll with it, but I'd still wish to somehow roll away from this stupid drinking game or whatever," he sighed, but Tingyun gave him a soft pat on the shoulder.
"I suggest you quickly talk with Madam Yukong and then see that you manage to escape," she chuckled softly, pushing him in.
"Huh, what? No need to rush me, you know?" he sighed, smiling slightly as he just moved along. "Are you coming too or?"
She nodded, smiling.
"Of course I'm going too. What else am I supposed to do? Plus, have I not told you? It's high-quality alcohol for free."
The two made their way inside, and the scene was already hell itself. Jing Yuan was seemingly asleep, resting his head on his desk. Huaiyan was watching the scene unfold before him, drinking quietly in his own spot with Dan Heng by his side, the two sober and discussing. Stelle and March were both red in the cheeks, dancing and singing, taking photos and laughing loudly, while Yukong was trying to calm down a drunk Feixiao who was shouting and causing a mess, falling and twirling in her drunken stupor.
Mark stepped into the room, unseen at first. Tingyun followed behind, ready to turn tail and leave since the mess was too much. He simply walked inside, his steps silent and cold. The very moment he got closer, he pumped a strong 60% output in his body, simply to pressure everyone into the room with sheer energy.
At once, all eyes were on him. Jing Yuan snapped out of it, sitting up in his seat. Dan Heng and Huaiyan both turned to look at Mark, while Stelle and March scuttled over and nearly fell while trying to get seated. Yukong let out a relieved sigh as Feixiao stopped, turning her gaze at the man, smirking while slurring her words.
"Look who finally arrived!" she shouted, tripping over herself while trying to walk closer. Mark increased the pressure just a little, ending with her falling on her butt. He just stopped the energy, returning to normal.
"Madam Yukong," he said coldly, the scene having already flipped him off so badly that his jaw was clenched. "Tingyun informed me that we needed to speak about something. I guess it's related to the issue we discussed with me as Five, right?"
She nodded, trying to stand up and walk out of the place with him to talk, but Feixiao was having none of it. She made her way to Mark, holding on to a large container with what Mark thought to be wine. He didn't know much about those specific things, but they looked like what he had seen long ago in a video with her being drunk—thus his worries on how it might all go south kicked in.
"Maaaark, let's drink. Come on," she blabbered out, pointing the container his way, the liquid dancing from side to side as her wobbling arms were trying to steady themselves.
"Walk off," he said bluntly, grabbing the large container and putting it back on the table. He motioned for Yukong to come outside so they could talk, but before he could leave, a hand grabbed him by the collar and yanked him around, right face to face with none other than the drunk general.
"Where are you running off, huh? You're no fun," she cried out, her speech still a mess. Mark sighed, staring coldly at her despite the pouty expression made. Had it been himself from a while back, he'd have no issue with a little party, but the current him wanted nothing more than a moment of silence to sort out his thoughts and try to figure out what the fuck is wrong with him on a fundamental level. The noise in his head was too much.
"Feixiao, you're drunk. Let go," he growled, annoyed as one could be. He was close to grabbing her ears and twisting them.
Her eyes scanned his, the drunken haze visible in her own. With a pout, she spoke up.
"Why are you like this? The others told me you used to be fun. You'd make crappy jokes and laugh, come up with crazy stunts, and somehow scare everyone by speaking like you knew them better than themselves. I've seen that too, but you barely said a thing."
She pulled him closer, her ears twitching ever so slightly as her canines showed slightly, the warmth of her breath tickling his lips.
"Just what went wrong, Mark?"
He slowly grabbed her hand, unclutching her fingers from his clothing.
"I owe no answers, but instead I am owed a few," he said dryly, walking away to talk with Yukong, but not before freezing her legs to the floor so she'd stay still at least for a few seconds before breaking it.
Tingyun watched the scene unfold, quickly walking out with Mark and Yukong, choosing to give up on the free drinks in favor of peace and distance from Feixiao.
"How did it go, Yukong?" he asked calmly, trying to drown out whatever emotions were close to pouring over thanks to the earlier scene.
"Well, it was close to failing," she said softly, trying to focus on the actual matter at hand. Mark knew that in the game, things didn't go as expected, but he still had to try, hoping that maybe it would be different if the public changed its mind a little. "However, it went through. It was the Marshal who somehow caught wind of the request, since it was you who vouched for Samantha."
Mark damn near slapped himself after hearing that. More and more people were slowly showing interest in him, and it's all the factions he'd want to avoid being indebted to, and rather having them owe him debts. It made sense for everyone to want him joining their cause, since he was an unseen wildcard, and for those with enough information or at least the ability to guess, he was a walking powerhouse capable of storing Stellarons and drawing out their strength.
"I see how it is. So, it's actually happening. I'm glad, then. Thank you, Yukong."
She nodded, smiling softly. Tingyun lingered by their side, and Mark let out a soft sigh as he crossed his arms, watching the two with an eerie sort of comfort and worry for the altered future. Still, he'd manage somehow. He'd face it all if it meant that those happy faces he dreamt of would become a reality.
"Is something wrong?" asked Tingyun, noticing how his gaze was out of it. He shook his head, smiling a little.
"It's fine, I'm just thinking."
"It must be a little shocking to hear that the Marshal herself took an interest in you, right?"
He shook his head, speaking calmly, his words calculated.
"Not at all. It's bound to happen. I somehow joined the fray and ended up against a Lord Ravager, then cleaned up the entire Abundance left around. Of course she'd ask that whatever information related to me appears should be sent her way. Better to try and make me an ally in case I one day get stronger."
He sighed, staring up at the sky. Nighttime had fallen before he could even comprehend it. His mind was a hazy mess filled to the brim, and his head felt like bursting.
"Mark," said Tingyun, her voice soft and worried. "How about we walk back and I show you to some nice accommodation for the night? You're clearly tired."
He nodded, rubbing his tired eyes with a grunt.
"Sure, sounds divine. I just need some sleep," he yawned, covering his mouth.
Just like that, he walked away from the scene, bracing himself for whatever the future might hold.
章節 97: Steam
*yall I've been tired all day, so let me know how the chapter feels. I just have the impression I fucked up. For now tho, enjoy. Peace out and Deus vult*
The morning rolled around way before Mark could get a proper sleep. His body felt sore all over, but he stood up nonetheless. His mind had dulled a little, the beautiful reason why he enjoyed sleep so much. Waking up an emotionless piece of flesh was oftentimes a welcomed blessing that he couldn't get enough of.
With its softness, the bed tried to lull him back inside, underneath the covers, yet its gentle allure wasn't enough. As far as he knew, the generals were most probably bound to depart that day. With reluctance, he went out to watch them depart, but he stared from a distance, not wishing to interact too much. He knew that Welt and Himeko were supposed to return, and thus the group would go on their journey once more.
With a bit of a headache, he recalled trailers and other bits of information he had gotten before moving on to the next location, thus earning himself a bit more knowledge on what was supposed to come next—once again, Penacony. He was fed up with that place after the past events, and yet he'd go wherever he was needed.
Slinging back on the remains of his coat, he braced himself for a distant farewell. Tingyun tried offering him new clothes to wear, and yet Mark didn't accept any of them for the simple fact that they made him feel like a wuxia novel protagonist, and he dreaded that. It was more than enough as things were.
On to Central Starskiff Haven, Mark watched from atop a building in the distance, watching the groups interact. Still, he could make out their expressions just barely, taking notice of the movements. It wasn't the same happy moment with a beautiful addition of possible future encounters—no, it was just a simple farewell with perhaps a few regrets from Feixiao thanks to her behavior and the tense situation between Mark and the Crew. His plan was to just sneak on the Express as soon as it came closer to the Luofu and lock himself up in his room until the next destination.
"Sounds like my best bet. I'm not really in the mood to see anyone, I'll be honest. I'm just tired as shit, that's for sure," he whispered, still staring at the group. The swords rested by his side, glued to the roof with a good layer of ice. He wasn't going to leave them behind, that much he knew. It was one of the few things he enjoyed doing, collecting whatever he liked, little trinkets from everywhere.
As his eyes kept scanning the scene, Feixiao's eyes looking his way could be noticed, yet he didn't even try to hide. Uncaring and unbothered—that's what he was supposed to be like. She simply stared at him in silence, her hair dangling in the wind as his cold gaze took in the sight, his weary mind preparing for whatever could happen. She just bowed her head and looked away, perhaps embarrassed by her actions towards him. After all, he did heal Jiaoqiu, who had gotten hurt by ingesting poison to try and interfere with Hoolay's plan. Mark was there to fix the foxian's vision when it all came to an end, and yet she kept pestering him left and right.
Deep down, he understood that words weren't her strong suit and that she only wished to help. Still, he was in no state to keep stuff like that going. He was honest when he said over and over again that he wished to just take a step back and rest on his own, but no one listened. In a way, the need for companionship was there, and yet it would only bring more pain in the end, with nothing good to show for it. Healing alone was a slow, agonizing process, but at least it wouldn't end with him being left below rock bottom.
One by one, the two generals from the other ships of the Xianzhou left, and soon enough Mark made his quick jumps from one build to another to reach the Astral Express, since it had pulled at the opposite side from where they were at. Welt and Himeko got off, only to be met by Qingque, who was waiting for Fu Xuan. It was a little error in communication that both sides had suffered from.
He watched as it pulled in, and a confused pair made up of Welt and Himeko got off, confused that Qingque was the one waiting for them. Without wasting a breath, Mark bolted to the side, sliding on ice as fast as possible, the swords frozen to his back. The two watched him approach like a falling star, the red flames spreading out behind him, exiting like he was a fighter jet.
The second he slid past them, he felt a strong pull just yank him in place, as if he had hit an invisible wall, but he understood it quickly from the brief flash of light coming from Welt's direction. It was his powers used to halt Mark and force him to stay there.
"Yes, I'm alive. I'm off to my room. I need sleep," he said quickly, trying to walk away, but this time his feet were glued to the floor.
He turned around, but before he could say a thing, he found himself wrapped in Himeko's embrace, with tears running down her face.
"You're alive, and your arm is back. I'm so glad," she said softly, holding him tightly, unbothered by his appearance.
The whole thing threw him off so badly that his arms moved to hold her, but he forcefully stopped himself from acting out on his feelings. It felt wrong, but he hoped to keep himself steady in mentality.
"Yes, I'm alive, and I'll only say this... I owe no one any answers about what you found in my phone," he said coldly, already striking for the one thing that bothered him.
Both their faces fell slightly, but Welt tried to quickly regain control of himself and speak up. Meanwhile, Himeko still held on to him, her tears pouring no more, yet her eyes betrayed her inner turmoil.
"Mark, I know that what we've done is in no way the morally right decision, however-"
"Then you have the right to remain silent and leave me be. I thought the Express didn't question those things; alas, here we are, with me as the odd one out. Yes, I know stuff, and I won't deny what you found there. However, I won't provide any answers."
His words were cold, and both Mark and Welt were locked in a silent clash, no words coming out as the two tried to find a way for each to take the upper hand.
"Mark, there's more to it, something only you can help me with," added Welt, his gaze menacing unlike ever before. It held a deep sense of uncertainty and worry, so Mark decided to hear him out, aware that the fate of everyone as a whole went beyond just himself. Torn as he was, he didn't wish to ruin everything.
"Follow me, then," sighed Mark, heading off to his room. Himeko remained there, watching his back, the torn part of his clothing showing a good chunk of it. There was no scar where he had been stabbed. Welt walked, glancing at her and nodding, reassuring her silently that he'd try to settle things.
Mark walked to his room, leaving the door open for Welt to follow in. His two swords went to rest near his good old improvised sword and metal pipe, the two weapons having assisted him in battle countless times. He smiled slightly at the sight and rummaged through his closet. Rummage, however, is much said, since he only had his old clothes inside, his very first outfit. With careful movements, he took them out, admiring them intently.
"It seems to me that you were rather busy," said Welt, scanning the new weapons. With a sigh, Mark nodded, speaking nothing of the encounters.
"I got out of that cube, and here I am."
Welt nodded, fixing his glasses. He took a seat on the edge of Mark's bed, watching the youngster prepare his clothing.
"Mark, you are aware of my past, right?"
He nodded, leaning against the closet with his arms closed, staring at Welt as the silence grew heavier with tension.
"The issue is the following... my memories are undergoing a weird process."
Mark rose a brow, already thinking and trying to understand what Welt was on.
"It's almost like I have two different sets of memories. One that I have lived, and another one that's different, with the oddity being someone or something whose face I can't see. It's a new presence—someone wearing a white coat, with the rest being impossible for me to make out. It's strange, but I decided to talk about it with you since you're the one who possesses a lot of knowledge."
Welt's words seemed sincere enough, and Mark's brain was already thrown in the gutter. Different theories were already lingering on his lips, sliding from one side to the other as more and more words cluttered together.
"Welt's memories are a double now, with a new set including a different person in them. He asked me, and unbeknownst to him, I have a double set of memories too, technically. There's one within the game, without me, and then one where I exist there. Could that happen with the memories of Honkai Star Rail as well? Wait, so my being here led to me having a double set of memories of events, technically. By that logic, something must have interfered in Welt's past or whatever."
Mark's blood ran cold as the realization settled in his mind, his eyes widening slightly. Welt caught sight of it but just waited for the answer. Of course, Mark wasn't going to say that, so he instead looked for an excuse—yet what excuse? There was no way Mark would admit that someone had interfered with the past timeline, just like he had with the present one. Most probably, it was all a way to balance the current Welt with the past one without deleting his memories and changing him fully.
"So, you're saying you got double memories or something?" he asked, buying some time.
"Something like that, yes. It all happened back when we were in Penacony, but I had no time to ask you back then."
There was his excuse.
"I guess the Memoria affected you a lot more than the others. With Ena's Dream taking place, perhaps some form of disturbance was caused in your mind. I was worried for a moment because the idea of your past being 'overtaken' crossed my mind, but then I realized that I was worrying for no reason. If you're aware of the changes, then it should be fine."
Welt nodded, looking at Mark intently, but the youngster gave away nothing, not even a hint of information beyond the crude expression on his face. There was clear disappointment in his eyes, so Welt felt like there was no choice.
"Mark, I," he began, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry for what we've done. The need for answers got to us, and we acted out of line. Once again, I apologize. I hope that you can forgive us."
Silence in the room, interrupted only by the soft sound of their breathing. Mark's gaze was fixed on the floor, the gears in his mind spinning. He knew what he believed in; he knew that forgiveness was the answer, and yet he couldn't just return to how things were so easily. He still felt betrayed and like an outcast.
"Welt, I do forgive you and don't hold it against you; however... it did hurt. It did hurt a lot, and I don't think I can just return to how it was. I am aware that all of you deep down see me as some sort of outsider for some reason, like... I think even Black Swan was accepted easier into the group with her suggestion to go to that new world, and she fucking boarded the Express without anyone's knowledge."
His rant was stopped just by the need for air, which was only used to speak. His lungs once more didn't need air, and he couldn't understand what to make of it at that point. He felt the Abundance in his lungs, and another path opened for his ways to do combat. Still, he focused on his frustration at the moment, and Welt did nothing but listen, keeping his head bowed, almost like a child being scolded.
"I know, that's the thing... I KNOW that I don't say all I have to, but do you think she does? Do you think she said everything she had to say? I did nothing but try to help, saying what was needed, when it was needed, and I'm the odd one?"
He sighed, almost hitting himself at that point, his mind a mess.
"Ok, I am the odd one, but that doesn't mean I'm not worthy of trust. I won't say a thing about what's on my phone, and I owe no one any explanation at this point. If others can go without revealing all about their past, then so can I. You're doing the same, Welt... and the others don't know."
The last line hit like a truck, breaking Welt's composure for a moment. He was right, and Welt had nothing to say against it.
"You're right. I guess I'm more of a hypocrite than I thought, right?"
Mark sighed. The sad state Welt was in from those few words somehow made him feel bad. One of those days Mark would probably hit his head against a wall for being that much of a contradiction to himself.
"Look, we're both hypocrites, but at least we have good reasons. We both want to protect, and that's what matters. For now, go outside and discuss with the others. I'll just be in my room, sleeping. Don't wake me up unless there's some emergency or whatever."
Welt nodded, silently walking out, with a lot to think about as well. Meanwhile, Mark finally took off the ragged clothing he had on, preparing himself for a shower as soon as the stench got to him.
"You lied to him, didn't you?"
Mark was instantly turned around, the Sword of Will in his hand, right up against Black Swan's throat.
"Oh, I forgot you were on the Express. Son of a fuck, you had to listen in, didn't you?"
She smiled, unphased by the blade, since she didn't have a proper body that could be cut.
"It's my duty to collect memories, you know?"
She walked closer, standing before a shirtless Mark, unbothered by the smell. Her fingers danced on his bare chest, her voice a sultry whisper.
"I can keep a secret for you, you know? However, I want memories in turn... your memories, and perhaps those of a beautiful moment," she mused, leaning closer to his ear.
Mark stood there, just following her with his gaze, the beat of his heart steady against her fingertips.
"Memokeepers are good at comforting others, you know? We understand, as long as you're willing to let us look into your mind. Just a little one, Mark, and you'll know someone understands your problems maybe better than you yourself can."
Her offer was tantalizing, but Mark was fed up. He pushed her aside, albeit gently.
"Why do all women think they can straight up charm me with a good time just cause I'm young? Jade, you... the fuck is this, a horny shitshow?"
He grabbed a towel and bolted straight to the shower, not even looking back. With quick steps, he got there, tossing aside what clothing remained on him before entering the shower, feeling the hot water flow down his skin. It was a serene moment, pure tranquility that soothed his soul to the core.
"So warm," he muttered, his head tilted back as the water ran down his face, through his hair. Still, he was nearly snapped out of it by the feeling of warmth on his back, a foreign one from another source.
"Of course you can change your form on the fly and pass through the wall," he sighed, wrapped up in Black Swan's arms.
"You're worse than the plague," he sighed once more, but he couldn't deny that the feeling was getting to him. Being held, skin on skin, in the steamy atmosphere surely did stuff to his already weary mind.
"Shh, don't stress over it," she whispered, her lips pulling slightly on his earlobe. "You're tired; I can see that. The past battle managed to wear you out, and then came the feeling of betrayal. I was there too, but I don't regret it. I collect memories, Mark, and yours are of a strange flavor I can't get enough of."
She pulled him closer to her, her bare chest pressed to his back while her hands were studying his chest. It was clear that the things he went through managed to modify his body slightly, adding a bit more muscle to his bones, and it was a rather pleasant change.
"You're in need of comfort, of understanding, in need of someone, Mark. Don't deny that to yourself, alright?"
Her words were perhaps the one thing he had always wished to hear, paired with the feeling, the closure, the supposed connection. His mind went blank; the memories clustered inside, not letting go of him even if he wished to just throw them all aside. Acheron left, Himeko misunderstood him, and there he was, alone with Black Swan, who wanted nothing but his memories—yet she was honest about it.
"Just... let me shower," he growled, but his resistance was barely there. Rather than relenting, she clung more to him, her soft skin pressing against every plane of his being.
"Just let me take care of you," she whispered, and thus the two remained in the shower.
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