"Clockie."

"Yes, Caelus?" responded Clockie, its voice resonating with mechanical warmth.

As Caelus surveyed his surroundings, he realized he was in a completely new area. Towering buildings stretched into a dusky sky, each adorned with grandiose, slightly eerie murals of Clockie. The city was bathed in a mystical blue light that seemed to emanate from the heart of the metropolis, casting an otherworldly glow on the darkened streets. Their eyes, wide and gleaming, followed their every move, giving the impression of being watched by the city itself.

Clockie looked around, its huge smile unwavering, "Ah, you mean by the Dreamscape? No biggie, I've brought you here after you slept. Did you hear of the tales of the Watchmaker that I was narrating?"

Caelus simply shook his head, still trying to absorb the surreal environment.

"Hold on. Dreamscape? Aren't we always in one? And what's that about the Watchmaker?" Caelus bombarded Clockie with questions, confusion evident on his face as he scratched his head.

Clockie hummed, processing the next answer for Caelus, "Hmm, to simplify, this is what the Dreamscape truly looks like. Well, it's more of the 'deep' end of it, like its true form."

Clockie tried to distill its explanation into simpler terms for Caelus.

However, the man was even more baffled by the explanation. "You've lost me there, Clockie."

Clockie crossed their arms, pondering an approach for Caelus. It understood that his recent exposure to IX's Shadow might be gradually eroding his emotions.

To mitigate this, Clockie had been working diligently to modify certain emotions within Caelus while he slept, which explained why Caelus was slow to comprehend things.

Clockie could sense a power within Caelus akin to that which had once entered Penacony—a power similar to a Stellaron but distinctively different.

If only the Voyager were here to shed more light, but fate had abruptly ended their meeting, bringing forth new challenges.

Meanwhile, Caelus wandered the town at a sluggish pace, with Clockie trailing behind. The dark alleys and the town's vibes resonated with the ominous presence of the Black Sun, evoking a sense of desolation.

Yet, this was quickly alleviated by Clockie's ability to manipulate emotions.

"Gegh! Ooh... my head," groaned Caelus, clutching his head as a severe headache struck.

Clockie immediately sprang to his side, concerned. "Caelus! Are you okay? You seem to be in great pain!"

Caelus nodded, grimacing, "My head hurts tremendously, but I should be okay... maybe. Thanks for your concern, Clockie."

Clockie performed what could be considered a nod with its entire body. "No worries! You are a friend, and thus, your wellbeing is my responsibility. If only Misha were here, his presence would be most beneficial."

Caelus tried to shake off the headache, and upon hearing the name 'Misha,' his memory jogged slightly.

"Misha? Ah, he was the boy who helped carry my friends' and my luggage at the Reverie."

Clockie's clock needle spun excitedly as Caelus recounted his encounter.

"Yes, that's Misha! He can see me, you know?"

Caelus tilted his head, puzzled, "He can? Wait, I'm forgetting many things—are you normally visible to others?"

Clockie settled onto a bench, responding, "You were exposed to profound darkness, so it's understandable you'd forget. But no, I'm not usually visible to anyone, except for a select few."

Caelus joined Clockie on the bench, probing further, "So, you seem to have connections to the 'Voyager'. Can you explain how you ended up wherever we were?"

Clockie produced a miniature clock in its hands and toyed with it. "Simply put, he and I are friends, or more precisely, he was a friend of my 'creator'. He tends to be elusive about many details. In his quest to Trailblaze, he encountered many undisclosed events."

Caelus deadpanned at Clockie's vague explanation. "That's rather ambiguous. I was hoping for a more straightforward answer."

Clockie huffed, its eyes closing. "Hmph! I'm doing my best to explain, but I was instructed to keep certain details from you! Only the information he has chosen to share is what I can confirm. Clockie is innocent in this matter!"

Caelus sighed; some mysteries were not meant to be unraveled easily, and this was certainly one of them.

---

As Caelus deliberated his next steps with Clockie, Acheron found herself atop a grandiose building in a lesser-known part of the dreamscape, face-to-face with an actual Galaxy Ranger named Boothill.

Their encounter was coincidental; Boothill had stumbled upon Acheron while she surveyed the area for Caelus.

The cowboy flashed a grin, leveling his gun at Acheron. "Finally caught you, ya damn weasel! Do you have any idea how long I've been hunting you down? Months!"

Acheron nonchalantly stepped closer, prompting him to step back.

"Keh, relax, I ain't here to kill you. Honestly, if you took all my bravado seriously, I'd be dead in a heartbeat," Boothill remarked, tucking his gun away.

Acheron nodded, recognizing his shift towards non-aggression. "I sensed that might be your approach. The Galaxy Rangers, following Lan's will, aim to eradicate 'evil,' a title I've adopted as part of my alias."

Boothill scoffed. "And by adopting it, do you presume to embody our mission? The Galaxy Rangers strive to eliminate evil, which occasionally complicates our reputation, yet our intentions are generally noble."

Acheron's gaze drifted downward, her eyes reflecting weariness. "Perhaps. Their intentions are sound, despite unconventional methods."

She then moved towards the edge, overlooking the dreamscape's vast heavens, filled with worlds and paradises, her posture slumped in contemplation.

Boothill observed her demeanor, which reminded him poignantly of his late daughter, evoking a memory of her similarly 'lost' expression.

Boothill recalled the moment he first saw the silvery-gray-haired youth, Caelus, accompanying Acheron when they arrived at the Reverie with Dan Heng. The scene had been dramatic, coming just moments before Acheron forcefully obliterated an adversary.

To think of Caelus merely as an accomplice seemed unjust. He hadn't heard much about the young man, but he vividly remembered the optimistic energy Caelus radiated around Acheron, suggesting their relationship was more akin to friendship than mere alliance.

Observing Acheron now, Boothill could see her sorrow, a profound sadness that seemed as if it had been long suppressed, now surfacing vehemently. It was painfully familiar to him, mirroring his own anguish after losing his daughter to the ruthless actions of the IPC.

Driven by a surge of paternal instinct, he offered comfort. "I've heard about the young one's disappearance, Caelus, right? From what I know of his past deeds, he's likely safe and sound."

Acheron's sorrow eased slightly at his compassionate words. "Thank you... I try to remain hopeful, but after two weeks, my worry grows. The dangers he could be facing..."

Boothill stepped closer, shedding his Galaxy Ranger façade to offer a reassuring pat on her shoulder. "Look, I can't presume your age, so I'll skip formalities, but maintaining hope is crucial. Until we hear otherwise, he could very well be out there, fighting for his survival."

Acheron absorbed his encouragement but remained only partially consoled. "But what if... he doesn't make it? Penacony is engulfed in mysteries, and dreams offer no sanctuary," she murmured, her voice tinged with a subtle sadness.

Boothill was taken aback by her emotional openness, contrasting sharply with her usual demeanor. He smiled, intrigued by the man who had influenced her so profoundly. "This Caelus must be quite the individual. I'd relish the chance to meet him."

Lowering his voice, he added, "There might still be hope in this universe. Anything's possible..."

Then, an idea struck him. "How about this? I'll help you find the kid, and in return, you answer some questions for me. What do you say?"

Acheron eyed him warily. "And if your promise falls through? What then do I gain?"

Boothill's smirk widened. "Fair question. Should that happen, you're free to do as you see fit. That's my vow as a Galaxy Ranger."

He extended his hand towards Acheron, who regarded it thoughtfully for a moment.

"I see... then, I agree to this temporary alliance."

Their handshake sealed the agreement, marking the beginning of their joint quest to locate Caelus.

---

Caelus purchased a stick of cotton candy from a vendor, graciously swiping his card to pay with funds provided by Himeko.

Clockie observed him consuming the treat, fascinated by the human act of eating.

Feeling Clockie's intense gaze, Caelus felt a twinge of discomfort. "Do you need something?"

He glanced between the cotton candy and Clockie. "Err... I'm not sure if you can eat this. Wanna try?"

Clockie shook its body. "No, it just reminds me of Misha eating. You two have similar mannerisms."

Caelus continued nibbling on his candy. "I can't tell if you're being judgmental."

Clockie laughed. "No, no, it's just that you both seem special, that's all."

Suddenly, Caelus bumped into someone, causing the person's bags to tumble to the ground.

He fell, his cotton candy meeting the ground and melting away.

Witnessing the demise of his snack, he looked devastated by the loss—a treat fully enjoyed now a fleeting pleasure escaped from his grasp.

"May you rest in peace, o'candy," Caelus murmured, sending his lighthearted condolences.

Clockie wondered if their manipulation of emotions had affected Caelus too deeply, or if this was simply his natural demeanor.

"Oooh..."

Clockie recognized the person Caelus had collided with and couldn't help but exclaim, "Oh, Misha! It's good to see you again!"

Clockie dashed over to the boy, who recognized the voice and turned.

"Ah, Clockie! It's good to see you too."

Misha is a young boy with fair skin and light blue hair, partially tied back with a black ribbon, and bangs covering his forehead. His purple, keyhole-shaped pupils stand out. He wears a dark blue and purple bellboy outfit with black and gold accents, including a white undershirt and ascot. A golden pocket watch with an orange gem dangles from his right hip. His outfit features a split tailcoat lined with teal, short shorts with black straps on his thighs, and large black boots adorned with golden buckles.

The boy opened his arms, allowing Clockie to leap into a hug.

Caelus, having paid his respects to his fallen treat, watched the reunion, his memory jogged by the familiar face.

He greeted Misha nonchalantly, "Yo, Misha. It's me, Caelus. Remember me from the Reverie?"

Misha, still holding Clockie, turned to Caelus, his eyes widening in shock.

Caelus, puzzled by the reaction, inquired, "Umm, is there something wrong?"

Misha pointed shakily at Caelus, exclaiming, "Yo-You! I have finally found you!"

The boy then set Clockie down gently, who muttered an 'ow,' and rushed toward Caelus, examining him from every angle

Caelus blinked in confusion at Misha's scrutiny, feeling as though he was being examined for some misdemeanor.

He inquired politely, "What are you doing?"

Misha concluded his inspection and faced Caelus squarely. "I'm just making sure you're the real Caelus, and not an impostor."

Offended by the insinuation, Caelus couldn't help but exclaim, "Hey! I'm the one and only Caelus here—smart, handsome, and ready to rumble! No one can replicate my uniqueness."

Striking a pose, Caelus drew laughter from passersby who found his antics amusing.

Misha chuckled in response, "Yes, yes, I see it's definitely you. After all, no one radiates positivity quite like you do, Caelus. Your friends are remarkable too, but they hardly come close, perhaps with the exception of that March girl."

Pleased with Misha's recognition, Caelus nodded enthusiastically, his hand confidently on his hip.

Misha's expression suddenly shifted as he remembered something important, his demeanor resembling that of a bewildered child.

"Ah, no! What I should be asking is: Where have you been, Caelus? Everyone has been worried sick about you! Do you realize the chaos your disappearance has caused in Penacony?"

Overwhelmed with emotion, Misha's voice carried a mix of concern and frustration.

Caelus tilted his head, pondering why Misha would say that, then placed a finger to his chin in thought.

"Oh."

Realization dawned on Caelus; Clockie had mentioned that two weeks had passed since he'd entered the realm of Nihility—or whatever it was called.

This meant he had been absent, completely out of contact with his friends and others.

Caelus facepalmed, suddenly understanding the havoc his disappearance had wrought, as inferred from Misha's tone and words.

He turned sharply to Clockie, who recoiled slightly at the sudden movement.

Sighing, he faced Misha again, "It's rather complicated," was all he could offer.

Misha hummed, visibly puzzled, "I think we have plenty of time for that. You can share your story; perhaps it will help resolve your mysterious disappearance."

Caelus shook his head, maintaining, "Nah, it's just that... Like I said, it's complicated."

However, Clockie, unable to hold back, blurted out, "My friend! He has been exposed to the shadows of Nihility, and thus, his emotions are being eroded!"

Caelus was tempted to reprimand Clockie for revealing too much, but Misha's reaction, one of deep concern, held him back.

"Oof!"

The trio turned toward the source of the commotion—a distinctly feminine voice. The person, previously concealed, now tumbled from a lamppost.

The young woman who fell had long, silvery-blonde hair with a teal ombre that cascaded to her waist, very fair skin, and eyes that shimmered with hues of deep ocean blue and sunset pink.

Swiftly, she stood up, briskly dusting off her clothes from the fall, and fixed her gaze on Caelus.

"You... You!" she exclaimed, her voice intensifying with each word, pointing at Caelus with a pout.

Caelus, however, was both confused and frightened; he had never met this woman before.

"Um, who are you?" he inquired, his question seeming to pierce her heart like an arrow.

Misha recognized the woman but chose to remain silent about her identity, aware that she was marked by the Bloodhound Family as a wanted individual—though her demeanor belied that of a fugitive.

The woman paused, her mouth opening then closing, before relaxing her posture with a sigh.

"I'm... Firefly, a stowaway. Nevermind that, I am also a Stellaron Hunter," she finally introduced herself.

Caelus blinked in bewilderment, "Eh?"

Firefly, embarrassed, muttered to herself, "Ugh... Nothing is going according to plan anymore. Is the script broken? No, maybe it's just not the right time," while fidgeting with her fingers.

Misha and Clockie exchanged puzzled glances, unsure of what was unfolding. Firefly's demeanor suggested a long-standing familiarity with Caelus, which clearly wasn't reciprocated.

Meanwhile, Caelus appeared utterly perplexed. "So... what's a Stellaron Hunter doing here? Last I heard, Kafka and Wolfie were heading back to their base after a day off."

Firefly was taken aback, "What... what do you mean? They came here too? They didn't even contact me!"

Her exclamation added to the confusion, and she felt an urge to disappear from the awkwardness.

Taking a deep breath, she composed herself, "Anyway, I've come to help you, Caelus. Penacony is in great danger, and I believe the Astral Express, whom I've been assisting, is en route to subdue Sunday."

Caelus struggled to process the overwhelming information, feeling as though a bomb had exploded in his head.

He raised his hand, "Hold on. Are you saying the others are embarking on an adventure without me?"

Firefly crossed her arms, "Indeed! They're in serious danger now, and I fear things will turn dire without your assistance!"

She then seized his arm and sprinted in the direction of... somewhere.

However, just as they started, a stern voice halted them.

"You, what are you doing to Caelus?"

The voice, edged with sharp authority, belonged to a woman.

Caelus recognized the voice and initially smiled, but his expression quickly morphed into one of horror upon seeing her.

Firefly felt as if she were facing her third death, this time by the hands of the formidable woman before them.

It was Acheron, and behind her stood Boothill, visibly trembling in fear of the wrathful woman.

Truly, there is no wrath more boundless than that of a woman scorned.

End of Chapter 

A/N: Writer's block is a pain, and it's my first time experiencing it. How are you all doing today? I apologize for the late update. I've just recovered from COVID and am trying to make a speedy recovery; after all, time is a luxury. Also, Firefly's banner is coming to a close—how have your pulls been? I managed to get her to E1 without spending any money, yippee! That's all from me for now. See you when I see you. Have a good day!