Honkai Star Rail: Summoning the Chrysos Heirs — Chapter 33

Chapter 33: A Sudden Attack

Billowing clouds of warm steam trailed after Cyrene as she stepped out of the bathroom. She wore a set of soft, oversized pajamas, a fluffy towel draped over her head as she gently rubbed the moisture from her hair. She tilted her head, catching sight of the figure lounging on the living room sofa, and let her tone rise into a light, teasing lilt.

“Remember to get to sleep early too. Staying up late is a total nightmare for your skin~”

Phainon shifted his gaze from the glowing screen in his hand. He sat in a relaxed slump, his thumb hovering over the glass, before looking up at her.

“Got it. You get some rest.”

He immediately dropped his head back down, his attention swallowed once more by the endless feed of information scrolling past.

Cyrene paused her drying. She puffed out her cheeks, padded over to the sofa, and loomed over the internet-addicted youth.

“Hmph. Staring at that screen all day long. Keep this up and you’ll turn into a disheveled shut-in.”

Despite the complaint, her diamond-shaped pupils held no real heat. She knew exactly what he was doing—absorbing the modern world’s vast ocean of data, laying the groundwork for their upcoming moves. Still, she had every right to exercise her authority as his companion. Who told him to ignore his bedtime?

Phainon offered a helpless shake of his head. A faint trace of amusement touched his eyes, though he offered no rebuttal. Being fussed over wasn’t an entirely unwelcome sensation.

“Alright, I won’t disturb your hard work. Goodnight~”

Cyrene huffed softly, turning on her heel and retreating to her bedroom.

She draped the damp towel over a rack and grabbed the hairdryer. The low, mechanical hum filled the quiet space. Warm air cascaded through her hair, evaporating the lingering moisture and seemingly melting away the bone-deep exhaustion of the day. As a southerner, skipping a shower yesterday due to the sheer chaos of her transmigration had pushed the absolute limits of her tolerance. Add in today’s frantic scrambling through concrete ruins and dodging bloodthirsty monsters in the streets, and she felt thoroughly coated in grime.

At first, catching a glimpse of this unfamiliar, delicate body in the mirror had left her feeling deeply disconnected. But under the scalding spray of the shower, that lingering sense of alienation had finally begun to wash away.

Ten minutes later, the hairdryer clicked off. Cyrene flopped onto the plush mattress like a boneless, lazy kitten. She rolled onto her back, tracing the elegant plaster patterns on the ceiling as her thoughts drifted.

The sheer volume of adrenaline packed into the last twenty-four hours easily eclipsed her entire previous twenty years of life. Waking up in Cyrene’s body without a shred of warning. Having the heavy, overarching script of Deliverance slammed into her lap. Summoning Phainon, manipulating the Special Anomaly Bureau, running for her life… It had only been one night, yet it felt like a century of grinding fatigue.

“Sigh. Forget it. I’m done thinking about this mess.” Cyrene yanked the thick quilt over her head, her voice muffled beneath the fabric. “I’ll leave all this complicated plot nonsense for tomorrow’s me to suffer over.”

She reached out blindly, dragging a stuffed doll against her chest, shifted into a comfortable curl, and let her eyes flutter shut. Her breathing gradually smoothed out, dipping into a long, steady rhythm.

The rare peace shattered violently.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

A shrill, piercing klaxon detonated directly inside her skull. It bypassed her ears entirely, scraping against her raw nerves and violently ripping her out of sleep.

Cyrene jolted upright, her heart hammering frantically against her ribs. She blindly snatched her phone from the pillow. The screen flared to life, displaying nothing but the innocent midnight hour.

Not the phone.

She shook her ringing head, realizing the agonizing alert was bleeding from the System panel. Cyrene focused her mind. A translucent blue interface instantly projected across her retinas. The normally placid radar map flashed with a blinding, aggressive crimson.

Five hundred meters away from the central green dot, a scarlet marker was tearing through the grid, hurtling straight toward her position at a terrifying velocity.

Five hundred meters. At that speed, it would crash into her bedroom in thirty seconds.

The last dregs of sleep burned away, leaving absolute, icy clarity. A red dot moving like that meant only one thing. An Abomination. Some unknown nightmare was making a beeline for her exact coordinates.

“Phai—”

Cyrene opened her mouth, instinctively reaching for the name that anchored her safety.

Before the syllable could fully form, a large, warm hand clamped firmly over her lips from behind.

There was no panic in the touch. The moment her skin registered the familiar warmth, the rigid tension locking her spine melted away. She turned her head. Phainon knelt beside the bed, his presence utterly silent. In the suffocating darkness, his eyes burned with a steady, grounding brilliance.

He raised his free index finger to his lips, demanding absolute silence. Slowly, he withdrew his hand and leaned in, his breath brushing her ear.

“Don’t say my name,” he murmured, his voice a barely audible vibration. “There is an Abomination approaching, but there is also an Ability User lurking outside your house. Watching.”

Cyrene blinked, her pulse skipping a beat.

“To avoid detection, I shifted into the Data Space,” Phainon explained softly.

Cyrene gave a tiny, obedient nod. “An Ability User?” she whispered back, curiosity bleeding through the tension. “Why is someone staking out my place?”

“I don’t know their exact objective, but their aura is highly refined. It belongs to the Special Bureau. I sense no killing intent. It is likely a protective detail, or a surveillance assignment.”

The pieces clicked into place. The Bureau had sent a tail. Her carefully crafted ‘Hyperthymesia’ persona had clearly hooked their attention exactly as planned.

Before she could analyze the Bureau’s motives further, the klaxon in her mind spiked in tempo, turning into a frantic, high-pitched scream.

Beep-beep-beep-beep!

Cyrene’s diamond pupils contracted as she checked the retinal display. The crimson dot had obliterated the safety perimeter. Less than a hundred meters. Moving at that velocity, this was no low-level cannon fodder.

“What’s the play?” Cyrene looked up at Phainon. The fear was entirely gone, replaced by a cool, calculating calm. With him here, the approaching nightmare was nothing but an obstacle.

“To preserve your cover with the Bureau, I will remain hidden,” Phainon said, reaching out to gently ruffle her hair. His gaze was a mixture of soft affection and absolute lethal promise. “Do not worry. The moment you are in true danger, I will end it.”

He gave her a single, reassuring look. Then, his physical form glitched. Like a holographic projection losing its signal, he fractured into digital light and dissolved completely into the cold air.

Cyrene was alone in the dark.

She drew in a slow, measured breath, forcing her heart rate to steady, and locked her eyes on the pitch-black window.

Crack.

A sharp, brittle snap severed the silence.

Cyrene whipped her head toward the sound. A dense web of fractured lines had suddenly spiderwebbed across the bedroom glass.

A massive, suffocating shadow blotted out the pale moonlight, pressing its immense bulk against the exterior frame. It was a grotesque, hulking giant. Ropes of knotted, unnatural muscle bulged beneath sickly grayish-green skin. A foul, rotting stench of dead fish and stagnant water seeped through the micro-fissures in the glass.

Through the fractured pane, two swollen, bloodshot eyes locked dead onto Cyrene. The creature’s jaw unhinged, peeling back to expose jagged rows of rotting yellow teeth.

A crushing wave of predatory malice flooded the room.

Crash!

The fragile barrier detonated. The monster’s brute force obliterated the window, sending a torrential storm of crystalline shards exploding into the bedroom.