HSR: A Passing Crimson

"Wear this..."

"Do that..."

"Avoid them..."

Persistent echoes of the bygone past lingered in his ears. Those dreadful, agonizing whispers that tormented him for all his life, as much as he hated them, lingered on his person, becoming a cancerous part of his inner self.

The life of an expected genius child was never a comfortable one. The endless expectations that he'd be something far greater than his peers crushed his innocence as a child.

It would have been far better than this if not for the fact that those very same people... Those who applauded, praised, and raised him...

Gave even an ounce of respect to his true self.

"Be the perfect actor..."

"You are our child..."

"Be better."

And so, that innocent childlike wonder, which never even had the chance to fully extrapolate itself inside of him back then, vanished as early as he could remember.

From that very afternoon, Merris, or whatever he called himself back then, had begun his acting.

That cold void where not even a single trace of warmth can be found, had become both his home... and his prison.

A prison where he, the captive, learned to love for all its flaws.

...no, it wasn't love.

He never genuinely received nor reciprocated that feeling called love. The feeling of being wanted, to be appreciated, and to be cherished— those are things he could only 'ask' for and give back in the form of polite reciprocation.

He could only depend on another person for his needs. Because, as cruel as it was, he realized that...

He was someone born to love, but not to be loved.

Love, as simple and vehemently complex as it was, was something he found at the periphery of his reach. It was there, but never within his grasp, always a mere inches away from achieving.

He remembered the first confession he received. That day, when that same, innocent wonder in that poor girl's eyes as she looked at him back then...

It made him want it more.

It was intoxicating— to drown in the feeling of having someone look at him with those eyes— to have someone cherish you for who he was. However, he soon realized that, beneath those eyes full of infatuation...

"I can't wait to brag you to them..."

"Make sure to tell everyone..."

"Maybe you could be..."

...Laid unfathomable expectations.

The very same ones that he abhorred since childhood. Those exact same eyes that his so-called family had given him... It sickened him.

Each short relationship he had since then had always been the same. They never truly saw him for what he was, but rather, what he represented himself as.

What they saw in him wasn't him— it was just his act that he was instructed to do... And they love that.

It was then that he realized that... they loved his fake self more than his true self.

How laughable it was, he thought.

He detested how cruel and contradicting love was for him— how it was given and taught to him.

He believed that love was inherently intertwined with expectations. To love is to expect from your partner— to expect from each other to grow as a pair.

And he, who had grown up with a twisted view of both, found himself spiraling down an abyss where he couldn't climb back out of. It was a chasm of doubt and despair, without a trace of beauty anywhere.

He didn't even know when it started, but ever since those relationships, he had gradually succumbed to the act his family wanted him to do, to fulfill the role he had been 'expected' to play.

He then became curious and also afraid— but most importantly, obsessed with the idea that had struck him then.

What is love?

Such a confounding conundrum made him utterly lost for his wits, which only made him want to eagerly search for it.

And so, before Merris even knew it himself, his search for this question turned into an obsession.

An obsession to find out whether love can be obtained without expectations— and, most importantly... whether he can get that kind of love for himself.

A type of love with no excessive expectations beyond what he truly is; one that accepted him for who he truly was. It was a selfish desire, but the thought of it made him crave for it even more.

And he intends to do so even now... even if the cost was his blinded obsession. Even if he knows that this was a meaningless motivation, he wanted to see it through nonetheless.

However, as harrowing as it was, perhaps that kind of love could only be obtained from the densest entity in the universe that has no expectations of anything at all— a black hole.

Wait... a black hole?

"Wake up."

---

At the sound of a woman's voice, Merris' eyes opened sluggishly as if he had just taken the longest nap ever. His head, contrary to what would have been after a good sleep, was pounding his senses.

The first thing he saw, however, was the familiar face of his savior... and new employer.

She looked the same as ever. Her purple hair, black bodysuit with a white long coat, and that nonchalant expression... As well as that blade that never leaves her side.

That's indeed her.

"Ms. Acheron?" He said, groggily while attempting to sit up.

Sitting down on a chair, she tilted her head slightly. "So you're still alive after all. That's good. Did you have a good dream?"

At her words, he couldn't help but look at her with questioning eyes, curious about what she was talking about.

"Not really... I haven't dreamt in a very long time. But what do you mean by I'm still alive?"

"Well, you've been asleep for a whole system day. I thought that your soul might have been sucked away and got left behind at the black hole."

She said it so nonchalantly that he didn't even know if she was serious or not. But knowing her, anything she says can be serious.

Grasping his chest, he warily looked at her.

"...that can happen?"

She shrugged.

"Maybe?"

"..."

A moment of silence once again descended upon the two. Merris looked at her with a dazed expression while Acheron looked at him with a steadfast and languid look.

Really, they couldn't contradict each other more.

'...why did you say it as if you were sure of it then?' he lampooned to himself, never intending to let her hear his inner thoughts.

Standing up, he gazed at her.

"I see... well, I must have troubled you when I was sleeping... Sorry."

"It's fine. Not everyone can get used to warp jumps that easily."

Although she didn't outright say it, she also implied that she knew he wasn't the type to take warp jumps frequently. Meaning, he wasn't much of a traveler.

Well, she was kind of right.

She then also stood up, her height reaching and exceeding his by just a mere inch.

"By the way, while you were asleep, as per your prediction, our estimated point of arrival was drastically shortened."

"How much time did we save?"

"Well, the original route was supposed to have taken a few system days, or a week at most. But with your route, we've only sacrificed two system days. That includes the time dilation that the black hole caused and your sleep."

"Wait... Does that mean that..."

"Yes."

He didn't need to be a genius to understand what she meant. In fact, he had a feeling about their current situation just right after he woke up when he felt that the ship was cruising rather smoothly and was not in a rush.

Acheron walked over to a window, pulled up its blinders, and revealed the spectacle outside.

There, with the vast dark cosmos serving as the backdrop, a massive futuristic space station that serves as a hub for space travelers was present.

And it wasn't small— goodness no, it was roughly the size of a planet.

At its center was a golden spire, possibly serving as a communications array, navigation beacon, or power source.

Surrounding the spire was a triangular framework that served as its structural support. If one looked close enough, though, one would even notice that those structural supports had docking ports, observation decks, and transit systems.

"Welcome to the Trace Space Station." Acheron declared, her face remaining as deadpan as ever as she crossed her arms.

As for Merris, he took a moment to look at the space station, his mind racing with excitement at the sight of it.

"Isnt that..."

He can't be wrong about it. It was exactly as it was described and picturized back in the game.

"It's a Scepter..." His eyes gleamed as he looked at the space station. "An ancient machine left behind by the Second Mechanical Emperor, Rubert II...!"

It was said that the Scepters, each capable of complex calculations, served as the Emperor's extra brains, serving him in the Second Emperor's War. One Scepter was capable of destroying a galaxy, and thousands of them make up the Second Emperor's external brain.

However, after the war, all of them deactivated and became useless.

An ancient machine of a remnant era... reduced to a mere space station and tourist attraction. It was truly a spectacle for him who loved scifi constructs— living true to his alias of a scifi nerd.

"You really love these things, huh...?" Acheron murmured to herself, still remembering how he was easily mesmerized by futuristic technology.

Walking over to the window where Acheron was at, he raised his arm as his eyes never left the space station that they were steadily approaching.

"I've... never been to a Scepter before. What a beautiful construct it is..."

Although he muttered himself that expecting no answer, Acheron lingered for a moment before replying to him.

"Neither have I."

"Huh? Really?"

Turning to her, he looked at her with a curious expression. However, he soon remembered something crucial.

"Wait... Didn't you say that we'd meet someone here?"

"That's right. He told me to find him here."

"Why can't he meet us instead?"

"I haven't met him before. I don't know his face or his real name; he's fairly known to be quite an enigmatic figure. He just told me to go to a certain location."

"So you're meeting someone you don't know? In a place you haven't been before?"

"What about it?"

Again, with that darned deadpan expression of hers. He knew she could take care of herself well— he knew that well too much— but still, he couldn't help but think that it was quite reckless.

Meeting someone she didn't know in a place where she haven't been before, all alone. That was a perfect recipe for a disaster— normally, at least.

"Ms. Acheron, I don't mean to judge your actions, but... Aren't you worried that this might get you in trouble?"

She looked at him briefly, her eyes sternly scrutinizing him for a moment. Then, after lingering for a moment, she spoke.

"There's no need for worry. I can protect myself quite well. I'm... more dangerous than you might think." She said as she held the hilt of her blade.

"I... I understand. But still... As your new hired assistant, I should come along, yes? You never know what might happen, after all."

Although he knew that the chances of her being injured from some kind of trap was extremely low, he still couldn't help but be worried for her safety. Of course, this is just his way of making sure that his only lifeline won't be in any trouble that could possibly extend to him.

She lingered for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, before nodding.

"Alright, I'll take you with me. Just make sure you won't say anything and do everything I say."

"Don't worry, Ms. Acheron! You're my boss now, and as your assistant, I'd naturally keep my mouth shut."

She lingered, her eyes gazing at him for a brief moment, before turning around and walking away.

"If there's nothing more, let's prepare to dock."

"Yes, ma'am!"

Following behind her with an enthusiastic gleam, rather than an assistant, he looked more like a puppy wagging his tail as he followed her.

...she can't complain much.

---

Meanwhile, somewhere inside the TSS, in a secluded space where the shadows blended naturally with everything, a figure can be seen stalking in the darkness.

Raising their arm, this person clicked an earpiece located on their ear.

Then, with a hoarse voice, the figure spoke.

"Johan has been sighted, as predicted."

Then, from their earpiece came an eeriely soothing voice.

[Proceed with the script, but try not to steer up much trouble, okay?]

"Understood."

[Alright then. Have fun.]

After their short conversation, the figure in the darkness destroyed their earpiece to smithereens. After doing so, the figure retreated to the darkness, almost as if blending in with it, and disappearing into the darkness.

A storm would soon stir the TSS.