Love and hate were two sides of the same coin. Two polar opposite emotions yet so intertwined that it would be impossible to feel one without also feeling another. To me, I could not hate someone that I had not loved. I could not love someone without also having the capacity to hate them.

I did not hate people. In fact, for the average person that I met and had any sort of relationship with, I just didn't feel much about them. Whether that relationship be acquaintances, friends, strangers, or anything outside and in between. If I did not feel deeply connected to them on a personal level I just did not feel any strong emotions towards them.

To say that I loved my friends would be incorrect. I could go hours, days, weeks, months or even years without talking to them. Yet when we finally reunited I would be able to jump back into it like nothing had ever happened.

But when I loved someone? I needed them. I craved their attention, like an addict going through withdrawal. Their emotions became my emotions and their frustrations clashed with mine. It wasn't enough that they just agreed with me on things, or they tolerated me. They needed to understand me. To acknowledge me. To show me that I wasn't just some random face in their life and that I had a deep, impactful, meaningful place in their hearts. To know that I existed as a person in someone else's life.

It was flawed reasoning and an even more toxic outlook. Yes, I knew that. But I can't help my emotions. I can try to understand them using logic, but that only goes so far. I was aware that others didn't feel things the same way that I did. Whereas my emotions were very black and white, other's had a gradient of all shades.

But so what? What did I care about how others felt? I couldn't control that. The only thing that I could control was myself.

That's why I didn't believe I was capable of love. Not in the capacity that most people wanted. Not in the capacity that I was worthy of it myself.

That's why I love to write. You can look away from the words on the page, but that doesn't mean they aren't written. My emotions, my thoughts, my feelings, my love. Bared to the world so that someone would finally be able to see me, in all my flawed glory, for who I was.

Chapter 18. Coming In From The Cold.

Funerals were something of an oddity for me. I had been to a few of them, but never cried except for my grandfather's one. Even then, tears didn't stream down my face, I didn't sob, or hiccup, or do anything that I found myself surrounded by. Instead, when I was reading a poem, one of Papa's favorites, my breath hitched exactly once.

I can't even remember the event clearly despite it only being five years ago. I went up with my cousins, spoke, sat back down. We watched as they lowered his casket into the ground and the rest of the day was a blank.

So when everyone held a funeral for Tingyun, a woman who I only knew tangentially from the game, I felt… not quite grounded.

I was in a black suit, not a dress like March had suggested. The rest of the Astral Express was in what they usually wore. I wasn't quite sure what the culture was intergalactically for funerals, but I do know that everyone mourns differently. I also knew that just because I was dressed in my own way of understanding for the occasion, didn't mean that the Astral Express or the others weren't.

I also doubted that the Xianzhou truly cared what outsiders did so long as they didn't cause a ruckus. Or maybe I was projecting my own temperament onto strangers.

The process of a funeral for the Xianzhou natives, to what I understood, was that they sent out a Starskiff with some of the deceased's belongings out to the galaxy. I believe it was a process that was limited to distinguished individuals or those in the military junction of the Luofu, but I wasn't certain. As it was, it was a method for them to ferry the souls of the deceased to continue traveling throughout the galaxy. A never-ending journey of some sort.

Welt, Stelle, and March all had something small to say about Tingyun during the funeral. Neither I, Himeko or Dan Heng, said anything. It was difficult for me at least, to speak up about someone who I truly never knew. I wasn't sure about Himeko or Dan Heng.

We turned to move back to the front of the Sky-Faring Commission, at the Palace of Astrum. It didn't take us long to get there, and when we arrived there was already a large group of people watching the ceremony in action.

I flexed my digits in my white gloves as we stared into the sky. A countless number of Starskiffs filled the open air, slowly moving off the Xianzhou and journeying into the unknown. It reminded me a lot of the ceremony to release lanterns into the sky. Seeing them slowly rise until they became stars.

The similarities had an odd sense of nostalgia rising within me. I wasn't Chinese, so I rarely participated in such a festival, not to mention it was illegal to actually release them into the sky in California; but it had me feeling a little homesick. Maybe once I got home, I would go to some Japanese festival and celebrate my own heritage. Even if I was only half, I was still brought up in a traditional asian household.

I hadn't participated in a water lantern festival in a long while. Sentimentality never suited me, but now I was feeling it more than ever.

Starskiffs continued to soar across the sky, one by one until eventually the last ship had departed. Most of the people had scattered to continue on with their day afterwards, some stuck around to mourn. The Astral Express reconvened with Jing Yuan and set off to the general's office.

"Are you coming, Zenith?" March asked me, when I didn't move from my spot.

"Ah…" I rubbed the back of my neck with my gloved hand. It was still a little sore. "I'm going to stick around for a bit. I never really got a chance to see what the Xianzhou was like."

Stelle gave me a concerned look, but I ignored it. Welt, and Jing Yuan for that matter, gave me a look as if they had seen through me. Like they knew I wanted to avoid the boring politics between the two factions. Dan Heng, seemed almost lost in thought.

Which, yes that was entirely true, but I also just wanted some time to myself. I had plenty of time to myself when I was kidnapped, but it's not exactly relaxing when under the unknown threat of intergalactic criminals.

Himeko and Dan Heng parted ways with the rest of us, going back to the Astral Express and doing whatever it is they do, while the other three members moved along with Jing Yuan. That left me all in my lonesome, or as alone as I could be in a populated plaza out in the open, to watch the very last ships disappear from existence.

At least, I thought it was my lonesome. Yukong, the Helm Master of the Xianzhou (at least I think that was her title), strided up next to me. She didn't turn to acknowledge me, merely choosing to continue gazing up at the floating Starskiffs.

I turned myself back to the ships, noticing that they had vanished beyond the horizon of what I could see. The morning's light devoured the subtle glow that the Starskiffs had. I wondered if such a ceremony took place during the night, I would be able to see the Starskiffs become miniscule stars in the sky.

"It's always melancholic to see such a beautiful sight." Yukong said from beside me, starting up a conversation.

I took a second before responding, fidgeting with my gloves as I did so. "...It reminds me of a festival from back home."

Yukong turned her gaze away from the horizon and onto me. Her steady, stern gaze made me falter for a second, before I realized that it was just a shallow, almost unconscious look that she had adopted to hide the fact that she was clearly grieving.

"Is that so? What type of festivals did you have?" Yukong asked me.

"There were… two types I suppose. They are ethnically different but rather similar in nature." I stuttered a bit as I tried to remember the origins. Were they actually ethnically different if they had very similar origins? I… should probably do a deep dive into my heritage once I got back. "Well there's a sky lantern festival, and a water lantern festival."

Yukong nodded, letting me know that she was paying attention. I rummaged around in my thoughts before continuing.

"The sky lantern festival is a primarily Chinese festival… I'm not too sure about the reason behind it, I guess. But it's a festival where people make paper lanterns and float them into the sky. "

"I can see the similarities."

"The water lantern festival's purpose… at least for Japanese people such as me, is to help ferry souls for peaceful passage to the afterlife. We would make lanterns and float them down a river. It's… very close to the purpose of this ceremony."

Yukong smiled at that. It was a small, bittersweet one. "Even across the stars people mourn in similar manners."

"Yeah. I was a little surprised as well."

"Is your choice in dress also a part of such culture?"

I tugged on my black suit a little bit. "I… Yes. It is. I'm not quite certain of the origins of it though. I believe it's a caucasian thing? I'm half caucasian and half-Japanese. Black symbolizes mourning and generally people dress up in formal-wear during funerals. Though I guess women don't generally wear suits. I just felt more comfortable in one and- " I rambled on, as if that explained the entire nuance of Earth's culture and the odd cultural line that I toed by virtue of being mixed.

As I attempted to bumble my way into explaining it, I realized that doing so completely blew my cover of being from Belobog. I had no real idea of how Belobog handled their mourning and if anyone asked a person from said planet, they'd probably realize very quickly that what I said and what their expectations were did not line up at all.

Oh well. It was just Yukong. I wasn't going to lie to a grieving woman.

I very much preferred not to lie in general. Keeping things out by omission was where I toed the line.

"Your home sounds very diverse. To hear about such differing cultures existing in peace… is nice."

Peace… was a relative term, I realized then. To me, peace would be an Earth where I didn't have to worry about bigotry because of my mixed status, or my gender or sexuality. People, especially the older generation, would get on my case because I wasn't fully Asian. Or perhaps because I was Japanese in particular. And I hardly needed to comment about the gender or sexuality part.

But for Yukong, peace was a term that describes a world where she didn't have to fear that one day her long lived friends would die because of an attack from an opposing faction.

"Yeah." I said. "Home is… nice."

Our conversation ended there.

I missed my home.

By virtue of once again having access to the Astral Express, I was able to retrieve my phone. It had been a day after the funeral, and three days after Phantylia's defeat. We were still parked at the Xianzhou, though that would likely be changing soon.

It was nice being able to relax, and it had taken me all of the three days between watching an Emanator die to actually feel like I wasn't a part of the living dead. That one singular day where I had been kidnapped was enough to keep me drained until now.

Relaxing and being relaxed were two different things, however. I was never able to fully settle into a relaxed state because I had one worry fluttering about in the back of my mind the entire time.

That worry was, of course, the Stellaron Hunters.

Considering this was undoubtedly the 'End of my journey' on the Xianzhou, I knew it was only a matter of time before I was contacted by the Stellaron Hunters.

If I thought back to everything that had happened, they hadn't lied to me a single time. Kafka had stated that I would witness something that would cause me to have my answer with no hesitation, and she was correct. To see Fuli before my very own eyes, reliving my entire life in less than the span of a second…

I knew what I had to do.

It wasn't like I had suddenly gained an eidetic memory or anything, or that I had really changed as a person. But rather it reaffirmed my drive and desire to get back. Even if my dad could barely remember me on good days, at the very least I needed to help him. My mom couldn't do such things alone.

If there was one thing I knew about Zenith, it was that she hated being chained down in the Underworld. So for her to take my spot and then be chained down by my own parents? I didn't trust her to just bail.

I spent most of my time in the archive, looking through everything I could find regarding the Stellaron Hunters and the general intergalactic space culture. The last time I had studied so hard was in college.

I learned about the IPC and their overwhelming grip on the majority of observable worlds. About each individual Aeon and what it meant to be a follower. I also learned a lot more about paths than I had previously.

Learning more about paths led me to wonder about the specifics of why I was a Remembrance path strider. I had a guess, and I was pretty sure it was due to the emphasis my life had on memories as a whole. Did I, as an entity in this grand universe, count as a different person than Zenith? Or was I my own unique person?

People could change paths, it wasn't a common thing, but it wasn't undocumented either. Zenith was a pathstrider of Remembrance and so was I. Prior to my studying I assumed that the reason such a thing didn't change was because we were counted as the same person. I'm much more inclined to believe now, however, that our beliefs and ideals were too similar that it just happened to line up.

We were the same person, after all. Even if our lives were vastly different.

My studying was interrupted by a text from Bronya. I got two of them from her, one in a group chat with Stelle, Dan Heng, March and I, and one just to myself. I opened up the group chat first, and found that it was an invitation to come back to Belobog for a sort of festival. An opening of a Museum, I believe.

Stelle and March were quick to respond, so I let them do most of the talking, and opened up the solo text sent to me. Bronya had told me that she found a bit more about 'Record-Keepers' that I might want to know about. There was a not so insignificant portion of the text dedicated to how she would love to see me in person to discuss such things.

Yeah, Bronya, between the two texts I think I got the hint.

After a very brief meeting with the rest of the crew that really just was used as a confirmation that we would be visiting Belobog once more, I headed back to my room. Almost immediately as I closed the door behind me did I get a tell-tale buzzing that signified a phone call.

It wouldn't have really been anything noteworthy, except for the fact that it was from the same phone that the Stellaron Hunters used to contact me before. I had taken to keeping it on hand, though I had never made it apparent to the rest of the crew, ever since the Xianzhou incident.

"It's me." I picked it up and said.

"Well now." Kafka spoke into the phone. Her voice was a smooth velvet rumble. "Have you given any thought to our proposition?"

I took a deep breath. "Yeah. I have. I'm in, if you'll have me."

She spoke in words so reminiscent that I had to believe it was intentional.

"Then, let me be the first one to say it. It's not exactly fair since the others aren't on call but…" I could feel Kafka smile through the phone. "Welcome aboard the Stellaron Hunters."

Start: June 15th. 2024.

End: June 20th. 2024.

Words: 2824.

Sorry for the long break but I was busy with Dawntrail. Dawntrail story was honestly 4/10 but I had to spend a lot of time prepping for the upcoming savage tier and leveling classes. Oh well.

So after a lot of looking back, I had almost forty people give me their opinion on whether or not they want to see the mini-arcs. We have decided to go forward with them! Starting with Belobog. Whether or not I'll do ALL of them is still up in the air and something I'll be figuring out soon. Things like the ghost hunting is simply… not that critical in terms of story, but stuff like Belobog's reconstruction is.

In all honesty I'm struggling to write for Hoyo stuff because they've been doing… a lot of shitty things in the time between when I last posted and now, but I'll do my best to keep a semi consistent upload schedule.