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ArabicHonkai Star Rail: Saving the World with a Mobile Game — Chapter 7
Chapter 7: The Heat Begins to Spread
If featuring Herta in the opening sequence made the game’s mysterious developer seem dangerously bold, dragging the Stellaron Hunters into the mix was nothing short of a death wish.
Herta, for all her eccentricities, was a recognized and relatively benign figure in the cosmos. The Stellaron Hunters were a completely different breed. They were a notorious syndicate of cosmic terrorists, known for slaughtering their way through blockades without a second thought. Slapping their likeness into a virtual playground? If Kafka or Blade ever caught wind of this, the developer would be erased from existence before they could even issue an apology.
Hidden among the surging viewer count, completely unnoticed by the frantic chat, Ash quietly monitored the livestream. Watching Guinaifen’s audience metrics skyrocket, a faint glimmer of genuine hope finally settled in his chest.
Back on screen, Guinaifen had just locked in her character selection. Instantly, a cascade of holographic tutorials flooded her interface. Dense blocks of text detailing skill multipliers, optimal team compositions, and complex Relic set bonuses swarmed her vision, leaving her completely overwhelmed.
She blinked at the sheer volume of mechanics. How did a nameless, unverified indie game possess such a complex underlying system? Her shock deepened when she realized that selecting Stelle didn’t just assign her an avatar. Stelle was directly integrated into her active party as a fully playable combatant.
“No way…” Guinaifen leaned closer to her camera. “Are all the characters in this game directly playable?”
The chat exploded.
“Stelle! Even the Trailblazer from the Astral Express is in the roster. Does that mean… could Ms. Herta actually be a playable unit too?”
Guinaifen caught the comment scrolling past and bit her lip, hesitating to voice the thought aloud. The viewers were already losing their minds over the implication, their excitement bleeding into a frenzy of digital cheers and donations.
She decided to shelve the mechanical deep dive for later. The actual gameplay loop was calling. What truly hooked her attention was the realization that this ‘Honkai: Star Rail’ possessed a dedicated, fully voiced main storyline. The stunning cinematics from earlier were not just a flashy world-building trailer.
A sleek prompt materialized on the left side of her screen.
[Penacony 3.0 Main Story: Chronicles of the Fire Chasing Heroes of Fallenwood]
[Silver Carriage, Hasten to the Black Earth. Quest Available]
[Yes/No to Begin]
Guinaifen’s avatar materialized. She gasped as she recognized the polished wooden floors and velvet carpets of her spawn point. She was standing right inside the parlor car of the Astral Express. Familiar figures populated the cabin. Dan Heng stood by the archives, March 7th was posing near a window, while Himeko and Welt occupied the central lounge.
She had visited the Express in reality, but being granted absolute freedom to wander its private corridors in a virtual space felt surreal. Did this developer possess zero concept of interstellar copyright law? Weren’t they terrified of the Interastral Peace Corporation or the Express crew suing them into oblivion? And more, how did they replicate the interior architecture with such terrifying precision?
A lingering question gnawed at her. Where was Ash in all of this?
“Forget it, family, let’s not overthink the legalities.” Guinaifen waved a hand at her audience, forcing a bright smile. “It looks like a lot of the core features are locked behind story progression. Let’s dive into the main plot and see what kind of trouble we can stir up!”
She tapped ‘Confirm’. The first act of the narrative smoothly engaged.
As the story unfolded, the stream’s algorithm caught fire. The broadcast vaulted up the rankings, securing prime recommendation slots across multiple interstellar entertainment networks.
Light-years away, on the Xianzhou Luofu.
The afternoon sun beat down on the Cloud Knights’ training grounds. Sushang, a relatively fresh recruit, collapsed onto a cool stone bench. Sweat plastered her hair to her forehead and soaked through her uniform after hours of grueling sword practice. Panting softly, she pulled out her jade abacus, hoping to catch Guinaifen’s broadcast to unwind. If her friend was live, Sushang figured she could drop a few comments and relax.
She tapped the familiar icon, but as the projection flared to life, Sushang froze. She thought she had misclicked into a pirated movie channel.
A train carving its way through the vast, empty void of space.
“Is this still Little Gui’s channel? Did her account get hacked?” Sushang jumped to her feet, her exhaustion forgotten.
She squinted at the floating holographic display. The visuals were stunningly crisp, but the content was entirely alien.
“Wait, hold on. This is… a game interface?” Sushang muttered, her eyes tracking the dialogue boxes. “The Astral Express? A route meeting? The Ocean Planet Lushaka, Mikhail’s hometown? The Agate World Melustanine, the ascension site of the Aeon of Beauty, Idrila? And the eternal land of Amphoreus? What in the hunt is going on here?!”
Within minutes, Sushang was completely captivated. Guinaifen was handling a digital world that felt half-real and half-myth, blending established cosmic history with an interactive narrative. It had to be some insanely high-budget fan project dedicated to the Nameless.
Meanwhile, on the Herta Space Station.
Ash had always considered this orbital facility the ultimate ‘newbie village’. Life here was leisurely. As long as the researchers met their quotas, they enjoyed premium benefits without the risk of field deployments. Sheltered under the absolute authority of Herta, the 83rd member of the Genius Society, the station was virtually immune to external invasions or corporate colonization.
A tedious departmental meeting had just adjourned. The staff filtered out into the recreation zones for their lunch break.
Jackson, a junior researcher, slumped in a cafeteria chair, mindlessly scrolling through his terminal while agonizing over his stalled thesis. A trending livestream caught his eye. The viewer count was absurdly high, yet the game being broadcast was completely undocumented in the station’s vast entertainment archives.
Boredom winning out, he tapped the thumbnail.
“This architecture…” Jackson leaned in, his brow furrowing. “Isn’t this the interior of the Astral Express?”
He watched the screen pan across a star map. “And what is that infinity-shaped planet? Amphoreus? I’ve never seen that in the astronomical databases.”
Those were minor curiosities. What truly shattered his composure was the character model standing idle in the corner of the screen.
“Holy…” Jackson choked on his breath. “M-Ms. Herta?!”
He bolted upright, his chair scraping violently against the floor. His eyes were wide with sheer, unadulterated horror. This suicidal developer actually dared to digitize the station’s master?
A heavy hand suddenly clamped down on his shoulder.
Jackson flinched, whipping his head around to find Arlan standing right behind him, the head of the Security Department looking entirely unamused.
“What is wrong with you, Jackson? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Arlan narrowed his eyes, peering over the researcher’s trembling shoulder. “What are you looking at? Let me see…”
At that exact moment, in the real world.
The true Astral Express floated in the silent vacuum just outside the chaotic orbit of Penacony, the Planet of Festivities.
The dust had settled on the Penacony incident, and Conductor Pom-Pom had summoned the crew to the parlor car to determine their next trailblazing destination.
“Please wait a moment, passengers. The route meeting will begin shortly,” Pom-Pom announced, their long ears drooping slightly in annoyance. “Huh? Speaking of which, where has Passenger March 7th run off to now?”
The conductor sighed. Sunday had politely declined to attend, Black Swan was merely a hitchhiker who voluntarily opted out of official Express business, and Ash had disembarked shortly after the Penacony crisis concluded. Now, even March 7th was missing. Despite the expanded roster, the train somehow felt quieter than ever.
“Heh.” Himeko stood by the central table, arms crossed, her signature gentle smile gracing her lips. “Little March said she had a sudden emergency to attend to. She should be here any second.”
Welt adjusted his glasses. “Speak of the devil. Look, Pom-Pom, here she comes.”
Footsteps echoed down the corridor. March 7th jogged into the parlor car, her eyes entirely glued to the glowing screen of her phone.
“Sorry, sorry, everyone! Something came up at the last minute!” she chimed, not looking up from her device.
Himeko offered a warm, forgiving smile. Pom-Pom merely shook their head, used to the girl’s erratic energy.
“Alright, alright. Since all passengers are present, let’s get ready to start.” Pom-Pom clasped their hands behind their back, pacing back and forth in front of the crew with the solemn dignity of a seasoned navigator.
“Listen up, passengers. I will list a few options first.” Pom-Pom cleared their throat. “First…”
“Uh, first, the Ocean Planet Lushaka, Mr. Mikhail’s hometown, which has been affected by a Stellaron.” March 7th suddenly spoke up, her thumbs flying across her screen as she recited the words flawlessly.
Pom-Pom blinked, then nodded in pleased surprise. “Mhm, mhm, mhm. Passenger March 7th is correct.”
“Then…” Pom-Pom continued.
“Then the agate planet Melustanine, the ascension site of the Aeon of Beauty, Idrila,” March 7th interrupted again, giggling softly at her phone. “It’s said to be one of the epicenters of the Stellaron disaster. Pretty dangerous, hehe.”
“Right, right.” Pom-Pom puffed out their chest, proud of the crew’s sudden dedication to their studies. “Finally.”
“Finally, the eternal land of Amphoreus!” March 7th cheered.
“Correct, Amphoreus…” Pom-Pom nodded along.
“That’s right, that’s right, right…” March 7th muttered, still staring at her screen.
Pom-Pom froze. The conductor’s ears shot straight up in sheer terror. They slowly turned their head, staring at March 7th as if she had just grown a second head.
“Huh?!!!”