Honkai Star Rail: My Chat Group is Full of Broken Timelines — Chapter 54

Chapter 55: Horizon of Existence, A Touch of Red at the End of Nothingness

[Fanfic Author: @Titania II… Miss Firefly, has Group Owner Kazuki still not woken up?]

Castorice’s message materialized in the chat, the words carefully chosen, followed by an emoji of a small, worried face peeking out from behind its hands. She had been sending similar inquiries every day, only to be met with Firefly’s increasingly desperate and possessive replies.

[Emperor the Third: Kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill…]

[Titania II: No…]

Firefly’s response was almost instantaneous, her words laced with a cold, unyielding stubbornness.

[Titania II: I’ve pieced him back together perfectly, just from my memories. Every single piece of him is right where it belongs. He’s lying so quietly in my arms, and his heartbeat and breathing are just like they were before… but he just won’t open his eyes.]

A picture followed the message.

In the image, the humanoid silhouette was nearly whole again, but the skin tones were a patchwork of mismatched shades. Faint, dark lines remained at the joints where flesh met flesh, making him look like a macabre doll, crudely stitched and glued together from disparate fragments. Firefly’s arms were wrapped tightly around him, her cheek pressed against his chest, her gaze holding a tenderness so deep it bordered on the unsettling.

[Fanfic Author: Um…]

Castorice sent an emoji of a character biting its lip, hesitating. In the end, she typed nothing more. She could feel the dangerous edge in Firefly’s tone; any attempt at persuasion would only be met with hostility.

[Emperor the Third: Kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill…]

Herta’s maddening spam flooded the screen once more, a constant, oppressive presence looming over the chat group like an invisible net. Since Kazuki had lost consciousness, no one was left who could mute her.

[Pure Beauty Knight: Don’t be anxious, you two. Since the chat group hasn’t announced Group Owner Kazuki’s death, there is still a chance for things to turn around.]

[Emperor the Third: Kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill…]

Though she projected an image of calm, Robin was, in truth, more anxious than anyone. She gazed out the porthole at the flowing river of stars, her fingertips unconsciously tapping a rhythm against the console.

The moment Emperor the Third had descended, every living being in the galaxy had felt a suffocating pressure, as if the cold hand of death itself were clutching their throat. It wasn’t simple fear, but an instinctive, primal terror that connected from the very depths of their DNA—a terror of the “End.”

On the star chart, several entire star systems had abruptly turned black, becoming voids from which not even light could escape, as if a chunk of the universe itself had been gouged out by an unseen hand. Only after Emperor the Third was repelled did that world-ending pressure slowly begin to dissipate.

But the chaos left in her wake was a nightmare to clean up. After Kazuki fell, Firefly guarded his remains like a mother beast protecting her cub, refusing to let any outsider near him. Robin had spent the past few days traversing the galaxy, visiting every Pathstrider she knew on the Paths of Remembrance and Abundance, collecting countless theoretical plans and esoteric methods for reawakening a consciousness. Yet, all she could do was share the data with Firefly through the chat group.

“Group Owner Kazuki, when will you finally decide to wake up?” she murmured, her gaze lost in the shifting star-river. Starlight traced the elegant lines of her profile, illuminating the deep exhaustion in her eyes.

The air in the laboratory was thick with a curious blend of scents—the sharp, sterile tang of chemicals overlaid with the sweet, organic perfume of strange flora.

Ruan Mei rested her chin on her hand, her posture one of relaxed contemplation as she sat before a large treatment pod. Her fingertips tapped a light, thoughtful rhythm on the table, her gaze fixed upon the Foxian woman floating within.

Suspended in the pale blue liquid, Tingyun floated serenely, her long hair fanning out around her like dark seaweed. Her fluffy tail was curled at her side, its fur still marred by several dazzling, golden scars—marks left behind by the corrosive aura of Emperor the Third’s destructive power.

Originally, Ruan Mei had been preparing to travel to Herta Space Station, but that sudden, galaxy-spanning “Annihilation” event had brought her journey to a halt.

At that moment, all forms of warp travel had failed. The silver tracks of the Trailblaze seemed to have been wiped clean by an invisible eraser. Viscous, oily ripples distorted the fabric of hyperspace, and every navigational beacon blurred into an indistinct smear of light.

Driven by a scientist’s insatiable curiosity, she had piloted her starship toward the region of space emitting the most abnormal energy fluctuations.

What met her eyes was a void of absolute nothingness. It contained no stars, no cosmic dust, not even the faintest glimmer of light. It was as if the universe had taken a brief nap and, upon waking, had simply forgotten this patch of existence.

Only at the very center of that terrifying emptiness did Tingyun’s figure float, silent and still. The vital energies of Abundance and the corrosive aura of Destruction were locked in a frantic, violent struggle within her, like two vipers coiled together, each trying to devour the other, threatening to tear her physical form to shreds.

‘Truly an interesting specimen,’ Ruan Mei had thought at the time. still, she had extended a hand to help. She could sense an astonishing will to live radiating from the Foxian’s broken body, a tenacity like that of dying weeds that still struggle to push a single green sprout through the cracks in a stone.

And so, Ruan Mei brought Tingyun back to her private laboratory. She had healed the woman’s physical wounds, but she was still waiting for her to awaken.

What intrigued her even more was that within the residual aura of that nothingness, she had detected a familiar sensation—one that brought to mind a certain arrogant witch.

Ruan Mei’s fingertips brushed against the cool glass of the treatment pod. She watched as Tingyun’s brow furrowed slightly, as if she were trapped in an uneasy dream. Her body had been repaired, but those scars of Destruction were not merely skin-deep; they were branded upon the very depths of her soul like indelible tattoos, intertwined with the blessings of Abundance in a precarious, eerie balance.

“When, exactly, will you wake up?” Ruan Mei murmured to herself, a flicker of genuine inquiry in her eyes. “Such a powerful will to live… it is truly a rare sight in this lifetime.”

Perhaps, she mused, once Tingyun awoke, the mystery of that Annihilation event could be solved. And perhaps, her own questions could finally be answered.

“Ha… ha… ha…”

Kazuki’s ragged panting echoed in the oppressive emptiness. Each breath was a fresh agony, a tearing sensation in his lungs. He had no idea how long he had been running.

At the edge of his vision, the pitch-black sun loomed ever closer. It pulsed with a terrifying gravity, a suction that tugged not at his body, but at the very essence of his consciousness, threatening to shred it into nothing.

Firefly’s voice was a constant presence, a phantom whisper circling in his ears. One moment it was a gentle call, the next a sharp, piercing scream. The sounds twisted around his nerves like countless threads, pulling him taut, threatening to snap his sanity.

‘Can’t stop…’ He gritted his teeth, mustering the last dregs of his strength to charge forward, away from the encroaching darkness.

And then, a flash of crimson exploded into view.

It was a color that had no right to exist in this desolate void. It wasn’t the inky black of the void-sun, nor the dreary grey-blue of the surface beneath his feet. This was a living, breathing crimson, vibrant and warm, like a single, defiant flower blooming in the heart of a dead winter.

Kazuki skidded to a halt, his heart hammering against his ribs.

“Red…” he murmured, a sudden, stinging heat welling up in his eyes.

That splash of red… it was so much like the fiery glow of Firefly’s armor, so much like the most vibrant maple leaf in the forests of the Xianzhou, and so much like a forgotten, warm memory buried deep within his soul.

Hearing his movement, the crimson figure slowly turned around.

As if in response, the black ripples on the ground suddenly receded. The terrifying pull of the dark sun seemed to weaken, its oppressive gravity lessening by a fraction.

The touch of crimson swayed gently before his eyes, a silent invitation, a beacon in the gloom.

Kazuki took a deep, shuddering breath—the first that didn’t feel like swallowing glass—and took a single, deliberate step toward that patch of red.