"Hello, Trailblazer. You still look the same." Kafka's voice, lazy and melodic, cut through the heavy silence of the divination chamber.

Stelle, who had been reeling from Fu Xuan's abrupt departure and accusation, frowned, her golden eyes narrowing. "Do we know each other? Why does your tone sound so familiar?" And why, she thought, does her voice make my skin crawl, but also... sound like a song I've forgotten?

"Is that important?" Kafka chuckled, shifting slightly in her energy restraints as if they were a comfortable armchair.

Stelle fell silent, her gaze flicking between the enigmatic woman and the empty doorway Fu Xuan had stormed through. Her mind was a whirlwind. The Express crew is the source of the crisis? How?

She finally pushed her confusion down and asked the question that had been burning in her heart, the one that felt strangely more important than the Stellaron itself. "I have a question for you. Why… why do I feel a strange sense of familiarity when I see certain people?"

Her gaze flicked, almost involuntarily, across the room. It passed over Welt and March 7th and landed on the handsome, white-eared Foxian diviner who was meticulously re-rolling a data scroll, seemingly oblivious to the entire conversation.

"Like him..." Stelle said, her voice dropping, "I feel like he was once very important. Is this... an illusion?"

Kafka's smile became somewhat mysterious, her wine-red eyes glinting with amusement. "An illusion? Who knows, little one. Some things, even if the mind forgets, are etched into the soul. The body... and the heart... they still remember."

Her gaze shifted, just for a second, to meet your own. A silent, shared secret passed between you, the chief conspirator and the inside agent. Kafka was playing her part beautifully, watering the very seed of confusion you needed to grow.

"Just like migratory birds," Kafka continued, her voice soft and hypnotic, "even if they lose their way, they will instinctively fly towards home. Perhaps you've just... found a piece of your 'home'."

Stelle wanted to ask more, to demand what that meant, but Kafka's tone shifted, becoming brisk and final. "Time is almost up. Let's go, Bladie."

A heavy, oppressive presence materialized from the shadows. Blade, his gaze as dead as a winter sky, appeared beside her.

"Oh, and Trailblazer," Kafka looked back at Stelle, "that's a very... interesting feeling you have. You should explore it."

As she was about to be escorted out, she turned one last time to look at you, her "jailer." Her lips parted slightly, silently mouthing words that only your keen Foxian senses, honed by years of practice, could catch.

'Remember to come back, I'll wait for you.'

Then, she leaned back, falling gracefully into the portal Blade opened. They vanished without a sound.

Afterward, the Express Crew prepared to leave the Divination Commission, their minds reeling from the cryptic interrogation. As they reached the grand entrance, Stelle's footsteps stopped.

"Stelle? Come on! The Express is waiting!" March 7th called from the platform.

"I..." Stelle looked back into the vast hall, her gaze searching. "I feel like... I forgot something important."

She had a nagging, powerful feeling that she didn't want to leave, as if she would miss something crucial if she walked away now.

March 7th followed her gaze and saw you, "Jiang Xuan," calmly tidying up the array, your white fox ears making you stand out. The pink-haired girl's eyes lit up, a knowing smile spreading across her face.

"You wait right here!" she ordered Stelle, then bounded back towards you with all the subtlety of a freight train.

"Um... excuse me! Mr. Diviner! Jiang Xuan!"

You looked up from your console, your expression one of polite inquiry. "Is there something I can help you with, Trailblazer?"

"Ahem, it's like this..." March 7th was a little embarrassed but pushed on with her mission, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "We're, uh, setting up an inter-world 'Friends of the Express' network! Yes! And, uh, we need a reliable contact here on the Luofu... you seem super reliable!"

She batted her eyelashes. "Could we... maybe... exchange contact information? You know, just in case we need... help... in the future."

She emphasized the word "help" while gesturing frantically with her eyes back towards Stelle, who had hidden behind a large pillar and was pretending to study its intricate carvings with intense interest.

You looked at March 7th's expectant, hopeful eyes, then at the top of Stelle's gray-haired head peeking out from behind the pillar. You smiled, a gesture of pure, disarming kindness. "Of course. It would be my honor."

You pulled out a small, intricately carved jade slip. "This is my personal contact information. Please... feel free to reach out if you, or your friend, need anything at all."

"Yes! Thank you!" March 7th took the number as if it were a rare treasure, then excitedly ran back to Stelle.

"How was that? Isn't your Sister March amazing? I went all out to get his contact info, just for you!"

"What do you mean 'for me'?!" Stelle's face instantly turned a shade of red that clashed violently with her coat. "Who told you to ask for it? I don't need it!"

"Oh? Then you don't want it?" March 7th grinned, dangling the jade slip with the contact info just out of her reach. "That's a shame. Then I'll just contact him myself. We can chat about... photography... and stuff..."

"No!" Stelle snatched it from her hand, her voice cracking. She looked at the glowing number on the slip, and her voice immediately weakened. "I mean... since you already got it, it would be a waste not to take it..."

March 7th stifled a laugh. "Then do you want it or not?"

Stelle struggled for a long time, her pride warring with an inexplicable, desperate desire. Finally, she whispered, "...Yes."

"What? I didn't hear you~" March leaned in, cupping her ear dramatically.

"I said YES!" Stelle glared at her, annoyed. "Give it to me now!"

March 7th was finally satisfied and sent her the number. Stelle clutched her phone, staring at the new contact, her heart pounding. Jiang Xuan.

You stood by the high window of the Divination Commission, watching them from afar. You saw March's triumphant teasing and Stelle's flustered, clumsy snatching of the jade slip. A cold, calculating, and satisfied smile touched your lips.

Stelle… oh, Stelle. Even after having your memory completely erased, even after being given a 'new life' by Elio's script... your soul still remembers me.

This was fascinating. In the previous simulation, your manipulation of her feelings had been a simple, almost childish game of pretend. But this... this was a deep, instinctual connection that even a "Slave of Fate" couldn't fully overwrite.

Good. You thought. This connection was a weapon. A tether. It meant that, in some small, fundamental way, she was still yours.

But what happens when she recovers her memory? The thought was a cold, sharp spike. When she finds out what I am doing? What I am planning to do to The Hunt, the very Aeon her precious Express crew seems to revere?

The thought was... irritating. You pushed it aside. One step at a time. For now, the Astral Express was a useful piece on the board, and Stelle was your most direct, and most pliable, link to it.

"Jiang Xuan."

Fu Xuan's voice, heavy with exhaustion, sounded from behind.

You turned, your cold expression instantly melting back into one of gentle, subordinate concern. You saw her standing in the doorway of her office. She looked... drained. The interrogation, Kafka's escape, and the certain-to-be-troubling news from Jing Yuan had clearly taken their toll.

"Fu Xuan," you said, your voice soft, using the name she had permitted you in private. "You haven't rested."

"Mm..." she rubbed her temples, looking very tired. "The Matrix is in chaos, Jing Yuan is now implicated... We're going to be busy next. It will be very tiring."

She looked at you, and at this point, her voice softened, her usual commanding tone replaced by a deep, weary dependence. That dependence you had so carefully cultivated.

"Tonight..." she said, her orange-pink eyes holding a hint of a plea. "Come to my room again. My head is splitting. I need you to... help me relieve some of this fatigue."

You stepped closer, taking a discarded data log from her unresisting hand. "No problem, Fu Xuan. Leave it to me. I will always be here to support you."

Watching her retreating, weary figure, your smile gradually faded. Poor, brilliant Fu Xuan. Another pawn, so easily and willingly moved into position.

Your gaze drifted away from her, out the grand window, towards the distant, ominous silhouette of the Alchemy Commission. You looked at the massive, looming form of the Ambrosial Arbor. The withered, ancient tree, which should have been dead for centuries, was now undergoing astonishing, unnatural changes.

On its dead, skeletal branches, tiny, dark-green buds were sprouting, pulsing with a faint, malevolent light.

Soon… you thought, a dark thrill of anticipation running through you. Phantylia's play is starting. The chaos is beginning.

The time for revenge is almost here.