Honkai Star Rail: Saving the World with a Mobile Game — Chapter 34

Chapter 34: The First Oracle, As I Have Written?

Ash stood on the high balcony, gazing down at the sprawling, sun-drenched expanse of Okhema. He tugged uncomfortably at the ornate, flowing collar of his new ceremonial attire, a grand outfit the locals had enthusiastically forced upon him.

“Everyone is a little too passionate around here,” he muttered, smoothing out the heavy fabric.

He pulled up his system interface, checking the internal timeline. If his calculations were correct, the most addicted players—like Guinaifen and her dedicated streaming audience—should be hitting the climax of the version 3.0 storyline right about now.

Simultaneously, Aglaea’s character banner was entering its final countdown.

“Which means… next up.” Ash rubbed his hands together, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “It’s Madam Herta’s turn to hit the gacha!”

Just picturing the arrogant, brilliant genius of the Space Station being reduced to a playable character made Ash hum a cheerful little tune. Her personal companion mission would launch right alongside the banner.

He genuinely wondered if exploiting her likeness and popularity would make Herta so furious she’d physically cross the cosmos just to whip him.

Actually, that would be perfect. Ash had been wracking his brain trying to figure out a way to contact her anyway. Shattering Madam Herta’s icy composure was the most efficient strategy. It would save him the immense trouble of tracking her down, especially since he was currently tethered to Amphoreus to maintain the world’s operations.

Beyond plotting his impending doom at the hands of an Emanator, Ash was also laying the groundwork for the version 3.1 pre-release hype.

The Opening of the Gate, The End of the Throne.

This upcoming update belonged entirely to Tribios and Mydei. More, 3.0 was merely the prologue. Starting from 3.1, players across the universe would finally understand the true, agonizing weight behind the Tragedy of the Flame-Chasers.

The mere thought of inflicting such beautiful despair upon Tribios made Ash eagerly open the game’s community forums.

Inside the game, players were fresh out of a spectacular, cinematic boss fight. With Nikador’s dissipation, the authority of strife was temporarily extinguished from the world. The player base was deeply immersed, still catching their breath from the emotional high.

Then, the first character to permanently exit the stage made her move.

Castorice stayed behind on the ruined battlefield. She quietly gathered the shattered, glowing remains of Nikador. With her innate authority as a ferryman, she serenely guided him on his final journey.

“In the poet’s writings, you will remain the embodiment of madness and corruption, the War God who burned through his glory…” Castorice murmured, her voice soft against the howling wind. “But at this moment… I am willing to send you to a gentle land, blooming with peace.”

“Farewell, Titan.”

Witnessing the Titan slowly dissolve into golden motes of light, Castorice finally asked the empty air about the whereabouts of the Death Titan, Thanatos. As she spoke, the other half of herself—stolen from her since birth—was highlighted in a stark, glowing yellow on the screen.

This single scene detonated the community forums.

Even Guinaifen paused her stream to analyze the text, wondering if it was a hidden clue for future patches. But the players had no time to dwell on Castorice’s lore. Even though Nikador wasn’t a playable character, nor a Chrysos Heir, watching a companion permanently die left a bitter taste in everyone’s mouths.

Sharp, panicked voices flooded the boards.

[Quiet to the Distance: Nikador is really gone? I thought there might be a way to save him! Can’t we, the Trailblazer, do something?!]

[Chiming Online: Game Author, come out right now! Tell me if he can be revived later!]

[Unspeakable Gui: Author, I spent real money on this! I command you, now, immediately, at once, right this instant, revive him!]

[Mr. Nice Guy: Yes, yes, revive, revive!]

[Ling Chu: The Elixir Masters are merciful, the Ambrosial Arbor sprouts, the Disciples are of one heart, together they ascend to paradise…]

[Chang Chang’s Only Account: Open the door! The Cloud Knights upstairs are delivering warmth!]

Countless notifications pinged Ash’s developer account, demanding he rewrite the story or bring the character back, threatening to uninstall if he refused.

Seeing the chaos, Ash leaned back in his chair. Adhering to the noble mindset of a developer who deeply valued player feedback, he naturally decided to promise them a happy ending.

To simultaneously stoke the fires for version 3.1, he posted a brand-new update on his official game account. It was framed as a simple fable.

[Shaoji: “The many shall bid farewell to the one, that the one may witness a miracle.”]

After offering this incredibly ominous explanation to the masses, Ash closed his account, thoroughly satisfied with his handiwork, and went back to coding Madam Herta’s banner.

Not long after the post went live, the previously deafening community forums fell dead silent for several minutes.

Far away on the Xianzhou Luofu and the Herta Space Station, players like Li Sushang, Huohuo, and Asta stared at their screens. The top rows of the forum were instantly dominated by walls of question marks, with confused posts racking up thousands of likes in seconds.

[What does this mean?]

[Are you kidding me, Author? What are you posting? What do you mean ‘the many shall bid farewell to the one’?]

[This oracle doesn’t seem very friendly, huh…]

[Who are ‘the many’? Who is ‘the one’? And why are we bidding farewell?!]

[Don’t worry, Shaoji definitely wouldn’t dare do anything outrageous. Didn’t he promise us a grand, wholesome reunion?]

Since this was an overarching oracle that dictated the entire narrative flow, Ash had released it as early as possible to let the dread simmer.

Live on her broadcast, Guinaifen leaned close to her camera, pretending to stroke an invisible beard as she analyzed the text.

“The many shall bid farewell to the one, that the one may witness a miracle? The ‘one’here must definitely be a single person, right?” She tapped her chin. “As for the’miracle,’ could it be… Re-creation?!”

[Haha, listening to Gui talk is like… listening to Gui talk.]

[Little Gui, you’re actually quite good-looking when you keep your mouth shut.]

[My ears are exhausted…]

Guinaifen gave a playful, unapologetic smile at her chat and dove back in to finish the final segment of the storyline. Judging by the route branch map in the menu, the epilogue was almost over.

Returning to Okhema, the narrative shifted to Phainon discussing the aftermath with Aglaea. He had clearly been preparing for this moment for a long time. Though his lingering confusion was still visible during his brief conversation with Castorice, his resolve had hardened. He was determined to take up the authority of strife and ascend as a new demigod.

Guinaifen blinked in surprise. She hadn’t expected Phainon to be the first to claim divine authority.

“But theoretically, it makes sense,” she mused to her viewers. “The very first character we meet in a new world is never simple. Taking up the mantle first fits his arc perfectly.”

While standard tropes usually dictated that the protagonist made the grand entrance last, this subversion felt earned.

The scene transitioned to the Trailblazer Bath Palace.

After the grueling battle, Stelle and Mem returned to their private quarters. Stelle stretched her arms, ready to crash into bed.

Strangely, Guinaifen noticed something different about the little companion. Mem had stopped stuttering. Though she was still prone to making cute ‘mi mi mi’ noises, she was suddenly forming complete, articulate sentences.

“Hey hey hey—being able to speak smoothly feels so great!” Mem spun around in the air. “But wow, my speech pattern is this mature? My first-person pronoun is actually ‘I’?”

[Probably just the devs adding more personality.]

[Wait, why don’t you have a voice actor?]

Right on cue, three dialogue options popped up on Stelle’s screen. Guinaifen laughed and decisively clicked the second choice.

[Why don’t you have a voice?]

“Exactly, so unfair! Right?” Mem kicked her little legs in the air, crossing her arms with a deeply displeased expression.

Guinaifen giggled. Official developer trolling was always the deadliest.

But it did make her think. After playing for so long, she still had no idea who the voice actors for Honkai: Star Rail actually were. How did they manage to capture the characters so vividly? If there was ever an offline event, she’d love to see them perform live.

She made a mental note to submit a support ticket asking about it later.

Just then, as Stelle finally closed her eyes and fell asleep in the game, strange, distorted text bled onto the screen.

[Your consciousness sinks into slumber. At the edge of the dream, you hear whispers approaching—]

In the blink of an eye, the entire interface shifted.

“Open this book. I will be waiting for you in the past.”

Guinaifen and her thousands of viewers held their breath, completely captivated.

When she clicked the center of the screen, a strangely styled, ancient book materialized. Across its cover, painted stars and moons swirled in a slow orbit around a bright, burning sun. Hovering above it was a single title: Nameless Reminiscence.

“Wait, family, what is this?” Guinaifen whispered, leaning closer to her monitor. “Who’s waiting for me in the past?”

The screen faded to black, leaving only a single line of text glowing in the dark.

“…as i have written…”

[Elysian’s Note: “Shaoji” is a well-known nickname in the Honkai community for a writer notorious for promising “positive and wholesome” stories that inevitably end in devastating tragedy. The raw text uses the literal translation “Tonight Eat Roast Chicken”, which has been localized to maintain the meta-joke.]