In her travels across the cosmos, she had become a silent observer of lives unfurling like blossoms in the sun. On each planet, she watched, her eyes a mirror to the spectrum of human sentiment.

She saw a father, arms wrapped tightly around his daughter in an embrace that spoke volumes of love and pride. The girl, her small hands presenting the fruits of her labor, beamed up at him. Her joy, a reflection of her success in pleasing him. They were ensconced in their own little universe, their happiness a private dance of shared triumph.

Elsewhere, a widow's world had dimmed. Her partner departed naturally, leaving behind a life well-lived, surrounded by kin not all equally touched by grief. The widow's eyes were clouded, her sorrow spilling over like rain from the heavens, a poignant reminder of love's eternal echo.

A scientist stood apart, his face etched with lines of discontent. Once a paragon of calm and honor, now a visage marred by envy. A competitor, a woman of equal brilliance, had leaped ahead, her discovery promising to elevate life's quality universe-wide. His jealousy was a corrosive force, eating away at his once noble demeanor.

And she, amidst these torrents of emotion, found herself an island in a sea of feeling. She could not grasp the intensity of their experiences; the path of Nihility had severed her from such depths. Not numb by choice, but by the extraordinary tapestry of her existence, leaving others confounded by her state.

She likened herself to withering wood, succumbing to the relentless feast of time and nature, its essence crumbling away bit by bit.

With a sigh, she accepted her lot—a destiny she would wish upon no other soul. It was this acknowledgment that anchored her, a lifeline thrown to her sense of being, ensuring she did not drift into the void of meaninglessness.

Stepping into the VIP chamber, she entered a different world. The space was opulent, grand pillars rose to support a ceiling lost in shadows, and the gentle luminance of chandeliers bathed the room in a soft, golden glow. At its heart, a lush, green tree stood sentinel, its leaves whispering stories of power and whispers of conspiracy.

She moved gracefully across the ornate floor, her gaze taking in the opulence that surrounded the political elite. The booths, lined with velvet the color of royalty, held individuals of significance, their laughter and chatter a symphony of the influential. Musicians nestled in a corner, their instruments a quiet herald to the night's events, the strings and keys waiting to sing.

Politicians mingled with magnates, their dialogues a delicate dance of words and wit, "The future is ours to mold," one asserted, his voice resonating with the timbre of authority. "Indeed, but only if the past does not cling to us like a shadow," another countered, her tone smooth as silk and just as cutting.

She walked, an apparition of silence among the clamor, her observations etching into her memory like carvings in stone, a silent testimony to the world she lived in but felt apart from.

She lingered at the threshold of engagement, a spectator to the lives unfolding before her, a chronicler of emotions she could perceive but not partake in.

---

After moments of contemplative observation, she redirected her course towards her sanctuary in the stars. Her ascent up the grand staircase, with its carpets thick and plush, swallowed the sound of her steps, imparting a ghostly quality to her movements. She navigated the branching pathways with a practiced ease, her left turn at the stair's division as certain as the path of a star through the heavens.

Corridors stretched out before her, a succession of doors flanking her on either side, each adorned with gleaming numerals that reflected the dim light. Despite the multitude of choices, her stride never faltered, her silent gaze sweeping over the labels with a methodical precision. She halted before a particular door to the right, its number matching the one etched in her memory—just shy of the bank of elevators.

A frown creased her brow as she noted the door ajar. "Why is it open?" she wondered inwardly, her warrior's instinct aroused by such carelessness—or was it an invitation? The door stood slightly open, a silent breach in her private world.

Poised on the threshold, her keen ears discerned a voice within, rich with joviality and the bright timbre of elation. It was a man's voice, conversing spiritedly with another.

Though confident in her martial prowess, she had no desire to stain the day with bloodshed. Discretion was her ally this day. With a gentle nudge, she widened the door's gap, slipping through the opening with a silence that belied her lethal potential.

Inside, the scene unfolded: two men stood in opposition. The first, a blonde man, his attire screamed of opulence and authority—a uniform that bespoke a rank likely self-appointed, adorned with ornate embellishments and a flourish of feathers at the shoulder, as if to elevate his stature beyond mere mortal confines.

But it was the second man who drew her focus, softening the edges of her vigilant gaze. It was he, the one from her encounter in the Reverie, snatched away by a pink-haired girl. She felt a dissonance watching the blonde man's aggressive posture towards him, an intrusion magnified by the realization that they trespassed in her quarters.

Stepping forward, her voice sliced through the tension. "Hello there," she announced, her words a steel blade wrapped in velvet. Her tone, firm and brooking no argument, pulled their attention as effectively as a siren's call. "What are you doing in my room?"

The interlopers turned, faces etched with surprise.

---

Her gaze briefly followed the path of the exiting blonde man, then settled upon the remaining figure in the room. His presence elicited a stirring within her, an indefinable emotion that felt both foreign and familiar. His eyes, gleaming with the innocence of childlike wonder yet edged with the steel of one who has weathered countless battles, resonated with her deeply.

"Cute," she thought, a smile threatening the edges of her stoic demeanor.

The man seemed to snap back to reality and bowed deeply before her. The gesture was one of genuine gratitude, and while she found his manners endearing, she couldn't help but voice her curiosity. "...Why haven't you left?"

He straightened as quickly as he had bowed, a swift motion that could have jarred another. "Umm... I should be asking that. While I am grateful that you intervened... that, I should be the one to ask why you have not left?"

The question prompted a moment of reflection, her head tilting slightly as she processed his words. In the earnestness of his face, absent of any guile, she realized her mistake.

"Ah, I must be in the wrong room," she confessed, her arms crossing in a self-embrace that conveyed both her embarrassment and her resolve. "My apologies... it is easy to get lost on this vast planet. I should have sought a guide to show me to my room." Her voice was tinged with a subtle frustration, directed not at him but at the confusion of the moment.

The man's response was immediate - a flurry of motion, his arms waving with a cheerfulness that was infectious in its sincerity. Her eyes followed the animated display, noting how his joy seemed to reach out, seeking to embrace the entire room.

Again, it was cute.

His frantic motions came to an abrupt halt, and he posed confidently, hands on hips as if reclaiming his composure. "Why don't I show you around? I may be new here, but I am always ready to assist. If someone requires help, then help they shall receive," he declared, his smile a beacon in the plush opulence of the room.

She felt the warmth again, blooming within her chest with a newfound intensity that enchanted and captivated her in equal measure.

She liked it.

A small, almost imperceptible smile broke through her usually impassive demeanor. One hand clasped over her heart, a gesture of wonder at the feelings burgeoning within, while the other extended towards him, an olive branch in a gesture of acceptance. "A kind man, you are. A rarity, indeed. I will gladly take up your offer. I am Acheron, and who might you be?" Her introduction was a soft symphony, her tones weaving a trance around the man.

He chuckled—a sound of mirth that seemed to fill the space between them—and eagerly grasped her offered hand. "Hehehe~ My name is Caelus, a Trailblazer. It will be my pleasure to make your day brighter, Acheron!" His smile was guileless, the embodiment of childlike glee etched upon a seasoned adventurer's face.

The warmth within her erupted like a nova, imprinting itself in her memory, a sensation she was determined to experience once more. "And I, too," she responded, her voice barely above a whisper, yet laden with an earnest yearning.

The rush of their meeting, the unexpected joy it sparked in her, mattered little. She desired to bask in this moment with the man who had unknowingly begun to unravel the threads of her long-guarded emotions. This Trailblazer, Caelus, might just be the one to guide her toward that which she sought most fervently: happiness.

End of Chapter

A/N: Hello, again. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Regarding this book, I'll be moving to weekly uploads as I gather more ideas to continue the story. Don't worry, I have no plans to abandon it. Once again, I hope you all enjoy this one. Thank you for reading!