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ArabicHonkai Star Rail: Saving the World with a Mobile Game — Chapter 39
Chapter 39: Madam Herta: How Do You Know Me Better Than I Know Myself?
In an instant, the digital landscape erupted.
The very second the new promotional video went live, a massive tidal wave of players flooded the community forums, their comments scrolling past in a dizzying blur.
[What is the situation right now? A new version PV just dropped out of nowhere?]
[Guinaifen: The dev is alive! That is fantastic news! We actually got a new version!]
[My god, what kind of monstrous productivity is this? I thought the creator was going to take the money and run, but not only did they stay, they pushed out the next update at lightspeed.]
[Changchang’s Only Account: Woohoo! The Opening of the Door, the End of the Throne… wait, does this version mean what I think it means…?]
[Guinaifen: Eh? Changchang, why are you here? Didn’t you say a true swordmaster disdains playing these frivolous games?]
[Your friend ‘Changchang’s Only Account’ has gone offline.]
[Guinaifen: So you play Honkai: Star Rail in secret too~?]
It was not just Guinaifen. Across the cosmos, countless streamers booted up their broadcasts the moment the update notification chimed, eagerly preparing to react to the new version PV live with their audiences.
Meanwhile, in a far more quiet corner of reality.
Just as Ash released the PV, successfully exchanged the system points for Version 3.2, and began laying the groundwork for the content of Version 3.1, an unexpected variable entered the equation.
He was lying comfortably in his ergonomic lounge chair, enjoying a rare moment of peace, when a sudden, sharp vibration rattled against his back. A distinct notification chime echoed from his inventory space.
“Hmm? What is going on?”
Ash sat up, rummaging through his belongings until his fingers brushed against cold, humming metal. He pulled the object out and stared at it. “The Aegis Anchor is active?!”
Understanding exactly where this specific signal had to be coming from, he quickly gripped the device and channeled a trace of energy to fully activate it.
In theory, this specialized artifact had been gifted to him by Madam Herta and Screwllum a long time ago. Its encryption was absolute; only those two geniuses possessed the coordinates required to dial this specific anchor.
In other words, they had finally tracked him down.
[Signal strength… stable. Dialogue window… 15 minutes 33 seconds. Premise: zero external interference.]
The mechanical prompt faded. Following a brief sequence of system handshakes, a familiar holographic projection slowly began to weave itself into existence right in the middle of Ash’s room.
A wide-brimmed hat. A carefully tailored formal dress. Flowing grey hair.
This distinct aesthetic was certainly not the mechanical elegance of Screwllum’s signature style. There was only one person it could be.
“Phew, finally got in touch. That took an absurd amount of effort.” The hologram stabilized, revealing the pristine, doll-like features of the Genius Society member. “Wait, where exactly is this place?”
Seeing the projection solidify, Ash quickly pushed himself up from his lounge chair, brushing off his clothes.
No way. This ridiculous baiting tactic actually worked?
He had been entirely unable to contact Madam Herta through conventional means for ages, yet the moment he released a character heavily based on her, it actually lured her out of the woodwork.
Though, judging by her tone, she had likely brute-forced the connection out of sheer irritation.
“Madam Herta, you are actually still alive?”
Hearing the voice, the grey-haired puppet turned her head. Realizing she was indeed looking at Ash, she raised a delicate eyebrow, her tone tinged with genuine surprise. “Hmm? It really is you, kid?”
“No, I should be the one saying that. You are the one who is miraculously still kicking.”
Herta’s piercing gaze swept up and down his figure, carefully sizing him up. Once she confirmed it was indeed Ash standing before her, and that he was not missing any vital limbs, the previously solemn tension gripping her delicate features seemed to melt away, so fleeting it might have been an illusion.
A moment later, her expression shifted into one of sharp, calculating interest. “You certainly made me work to find you. Ever since the scepter was scrapped that day, you completely vanished from the grid.”
She crossed her arms, her holographic form flickering slightly. “Communication time is strictly limited, so I will cut straight to the chase. You had better give me a highly reasonable explanation…”
The hologram shifted, and Herta held up a projection of her own mobile device. “This, and this. What exactly is the meaning of all this?”
She propped up her non-existent chest with one hand, her other hand displaying the screen. Her crystalline eyes held three parts intense questioning, three parts flippancy, and four parts absolute nonchalance.
Playing on the projected screen was none other than ‘The Herta’s’ personal game PV, currently paused on a high-definition screenshot from the story where she stood in direct defiance against Nous.
Ash suddenly felt a deep drop in his enthusiasm for this reunion.
Since the character PV was already finished and published, it did not really matter much whether the real Herta was present or not. So what exactly was she here to do? Collect royalties?
“Um, Madam Herta is unmatched in the cosmos, Madam Herta is brilliant beyond measure, Madam Herta is drop-dead gorgeous!” Ash rattled off smoothly, offering a bright smile. “Madam Herta… surely would not hold a grudge over a little creative liberty, right?”
Herta stared at him. (ᗜ_ᗜ)
She pressed two fingers to her forehead, looking deeply exhausted by his existence.
There was absolutely no doubt she was on the verge of laughing out of pure, unadulterated exasperation.
“Do not think you can act cute to get away with this. It was not easy for me to establish this connection across the void.” Herta dropped her hand, her gaze turning sharp. “You had better explain everything to me, from start to finish.”
She gestured vaguely at the ambient environment of Ash’s room, her voice maintaining a dangerous calm. “I distinctly remember the scepter being entirely scrapped. So where exactly did this Amphoreus come from?”
She tapped the screen of her phone. “And this game. You made this too?”
Seeing that Herta was completely serious and immune to his usual deflections, Ash realized he had no other choice.
He let out a long, deep sigh.
Even though he knew Herta was currently all bark and no bite, and that if he simply severed the communication right now, the most she could do was stomp her puppet feet in frustration lightyears away. Even if she wanted to physically come over and throttle him, handling the current spatial coordinates would not be a simple task.
However, one should not bully someone just because they possessed a kind heart and a working conscience.
also, Herta and Screwllum had genuinely helped him fight off the Iron Tomb back then, and he was currently profiting immensely off Herta’s immense popularity within the game’s ecosystem.
“Alright, the truth is exactly what you are looking at.”
Ash shrugged, leaning against his desk, and began to lay out the entire situation.
He detailed everything, starting from the catastrophic explosion of the scepter, transitioning into the conceptual fictionalization of Amphoreus, and finally explaining his grand design: using the medium of a video game to spread the cultural narrative of Amphoreus, thereby anchoring it in reality and granting the world a new lease on life.
Naturally, he also had to address the elephant in the room.
Why use Herta’s specific image?
Ash stated bluntly that Madam Herta was simply incredibly popular. Her presence alone could attract a massive influx of players, which in turn would exponentially accelerate the spread of Amphoreus’s story across the stars.
As a certified Genius, Herta had been deeply involved with Ash’s early endeavors and naturally understood the foundational theories governing Amphoreus.
Listening to Ash’s methodical narration, her mind raced, processing the sheer audacity of the concept while feeling a strange mixture of surprise and amusement.
As a world constructed entirely of data, Amphoreus should have remained trapped within the Memory Zone, requiring an unknown number of Amber Eras to naturally mature into a recognized member of the star map.
Yet, right at this very moment, Ash had actually managed to fictionalize its existence, intending to use this viral, memetic method to force its direct ascension into reality?
Although the theoretical framework of this plan seemed riddled with potential logical loopholes, she truly did not expect Ash to have already bypassed the theoretical stage and started putting it into active practice right behind her back.
Herta sometimes felt that if Ash had not chosen the path of a Trailblazer, he would have been an absolutely terrifying asset in the field of theoretical scientific research.
“Hmm, that is a somewhat plausible explanation.” Herta nodded slowly, the wide brim of her hat bobbing with the motion.
“However.” Her clear, piercing purple pupils locked straight onto Ash’s face. “Regarding the matter of misappropriating my personal image and blatantly leaking some of my highly classified secrets…”
“You…”
Just as she opened her mouth to deliver her verdict, before she could even finish her sentence, Ash’s fingers danced across his interface, suddenly transmitting two heavy video files directly through the connection.
On the other end of the cosmos, Herta received the incoming data packets through the Aegis Anchor. Her expression froze in mid-scowl. “What is this?”
“Myriad Celestia Trailer: The Stars are Silent as a Mystery.”
“Animated Short: The Herta’s Magical Kitchen.”
Reading the titles of the two files, both prominently featuring her own face as the thumbnail, Herta felt her brow furrow slightly.
Then, armed with a highly skeptical mindset and a readiness to critique every frame, she tapped the interface to see exactly what kind of nonsense he had produced.
To her immense surprise, the opening sequence was explosively cinematic. It threw the viewer directly into the tense, high-stakes scene of her aggressively questioning Nous. The visual fidelity, the atmospheric tension, the sheer quality of the rendering was unexpectedly phenomenal.
And then came the 2D animation titled ‘The Herta’s Magical Kitchen’. Though the runtime was relatively short, it left Herta staring blankly at her screen for a long, silent moment.
The character persona presented in this animated short felt… strangely, terrifyingly accurate. Perhaps even more vivid than her actual day-to-day self?
Wild, arrogant, overflowing with absolute confidence, yet maintaining an obvious elegance, all perfectly synchronized with dynamic visual transitions and a pulsing musical score.
Uh… and then there was the part where she completely blew up the kitchen.
But setting that aside, was she really that incredibly cool when she was interrogating the Aeon of Erudition?!
Calling this a one-to-one recreation was almost an insult to the work, because she felt the artistic direction actually surpassed a mere one-to-one recreation. It captured the absolute essence of her genius.
So much so that when Herta finally looked up from the screen and reconnected her gaze with Ash, the look in her eyes carried a heavy mix of deep confusion and deep suspicion.
“Did you secretly install a surveillance camera inside my private residence? How in the world did you know about me blowing up the kitchen?”
Ash: “?”