Three hours before the opening of the [ Charmony Festival ], at the Penacony Grand Theater
"Are you the only one here, child?"
The voice of the " Dream Master " echoed in the empty theater, tinged with weariness as he asked.
"Of course, I'm relieved to see you're safe and sound."
On Sunday, he bowed slightly in polite response, his gaze sweeping precisely over the battered body of the Night Thrush before him.
With its wings withered and flesh mangled, it was not yet on the verge of complete collapse, but it was only one step away from the miserable state of being stripped of all its glory.
"That Intellitron is indeed skilled. Our secret has already spread like wildfire among our factions, and the company's starships are also gathering at Asdana..."
The Dream Master's aura was slightly unstable, and Sunday couldn't imagine what the Intellitron named [ Lycurgus ] had done to him.
"Now is the crucial moment. Where is the chosen one who harmonizes all voices?" [ The Dream Master ] looked at Sunday, referring, of course, to the Robin.
Sunday turned gracefully, a slight smile playing on her lips, "What are you saying, sir? Aren't I standing right in front of you?"
"You know, in our plan, she's the main character of the Charmony Festival."
"As you know, the plan has changed. Under the control of that Intellitron, Robin has probably been sent away from the Asdana Galaxy, Penacony has no way of finding her."
"As her brother, I know that singing for [ Order ] was not her true wish. My presence here is enough."
"Heh." [ The Dream Master ] let out a low chuckle. "You've been exceptionally intelligent since childhood; you must understand the price you'll pay for your actions right now."
"If you consider this a [betrayal]... there can only be one sun in the sky. If necessary, I will shoot it down."
"Do you believe in karma?" [ The Dream Master ] asked.
"If retribution truly exists, then all living beings will receive their retribution—you have yours, and I have mine." Sunday stared directly at the night thrush:
"And my retribution has nothing to do with you, Mr. Gopher Wood."
"Hahaha... It's alright. Since you're willing to sacrifice yourself in her place, then I'll grant your wish."
On Sunday, she raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised. "The concessions came much faster than I expected. Why?"
"You were born as twins of [ Order ], and fate dictates that one of you will embark on this path and reach the inevitable end."
Was this also part of your design?
"Of course, you're still as smart as you were when you were a child."
The Hidden Night Thrush's murky eyes stared at Sunday. "The opening moment is approaching. Go, child... steal the power of [ Harmony ], and your retribution will be revealed."
"Sir, I have one last question." Sunday's voice remained calm as he left.
Why did you choose to bring [ Order ] to Penacony? A world driven to despair would have been a better choice, yet you still chose a city where people harbored dreams of freedom. Why?
"For fairness, child."
"If we lose justice in our hearts, we will repeat the mistakes of [ Harmony ]."
"So, the one who manipulates dreams using the [ Stellaron ] really isn't you, but—" Sunday's words trailed off as the [ Dream Master ] cut him off:
"We have said all we need to say. Keep this safe, and get to work. The 107,336 souls of the Oak Family have dreamt of this moment far too many times..."
Before the words were finished, the [ Dream Master ] handed a body of energy surging with scarlet light to Sunday.
Immediately, the body of the Night Thrush fell straight down like a puppet with its strings cut, its life force completely extinguished.
Then, the deathly silence was broken—above the theater's dome, one after another, night thrushes fell like a black rainstorm, their dull impacts echoing and weaving a chilling funeral dirge.
On Sunday, gazing at the lifeless, pale eyes scattered on the ground, he let out a barely audible sigh, followed by a resolute declaration rising from the deathly silence:
"I will fly high into the sky and become the sun."
"[The masses will flourish in my light, and all evil will have nowhere to hide.]"
Two hours before the opening of the [ Charmony Festival ], the Astral Express crew successfully arrived at the Penacony Grand Theater.
This is the interior of the Penacony Grand Theater.
"Ah... it feels pretty exhilarating to be launched into the air by soda. But... the Charmony Festival is about to start, why aren't the doors open yet?"
March 7th was still reminiscing about how she got to the Grand Theater.
"Not only that, the entire theater was eerily quiet. There were no audience members, not even any staff or cast members in sight..."
Welt's glasses reflected a cold light as he warily scanned his surroundings. "The entire theater was eerily quiet. Not only were the seats empty, but there wasn't a trace of staff or cast members in sight..."
Experience told him that this unusual calm often meant danger was lurking.
"Looks like the box office for ' The Charmony Festival ' isn't doing well!" Xing put his hands on his hips, trying to ease the gloomy atmosphere.
"Yeah, there's nobody here..." March 7th nodded in agreement, then suddenly realized something was off. "Hey, you're focusing on the wrong thing!"
"Let's explore the area first. Everyone, proceed with caution."
"My God, the atmosphere in this Grand Theater is so eerie, it's creepy..."
March 7th shivered; this feeling was even more terrifying than when she fought [ Lord Ravager ] Phantylia in the Scalegorge Waterscape.
"Even if no audience members have entered, there should at least be stagehands, right? Why is there absolutely no sound..."
As we approached the ticket office, several stiff figures suddenly appeared in the otherwise empty lobby.
"My goodness—that startled me! Why are there so many... mascots at this ticket booth?"
" In March 7th, this was actually a mannequin used in the fitting room."
"Oh, is that so... then it doesn't seem so scary."
Hearing Xing's words, even though she knew it was meant to comfort her, March 7th still felt much more at ease.
"Are these puppets part of the stage scenery?" Welt approached to examine them, his brow furrowing even more. "Even so, the foyer is completely deserted; this is all too unusual."
"Hmm... I have a strange feeling, could we have gone to the wrong place?" March 7th guessed.
"There shouldn't be another [ Grand Theater ] in this dream," Himeko said, dismissing the guess.
"So Sunday was just a trick on us? We agreed to have a showdown on stage, where did everyone go?"
As if in response to the call of March 7th, Sunday's ethereal voice rose without warning in the empty theater, lingering in everyone's ears:
"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Miss March 7th."
"Whoa... Why do you all like to scare people like this! You... where are you talking to me?"
Looking around on March 7th, unfortunately, Sunday was nowhere to be found.
"I will be waiting for you all behind the curtain. Before the grand ceremony begins, following the ancient tradition of Asdana, I would like to invite you to watch three plays performed on stage."
"History is a mirror, reflecting the truest face of the universe. We can also take this opportunity to gain a deeper understanding of the history of Penacony and Aeon."
"And the outline of the future—naturally—is revealed within it."