Spirit Pulse : Mugen No Sekai [IC]

[Bloble]

Daisuke
Smoky Island Bakery, Aoyama
11/16/2026
Monday - Dark Hour

"Haaah... this isn't Haloperidol. It's some kinda fairy medicine."

Should he continue to be frustrated now? In all honesty... no, he doesn't have it in him to keep up the indignation. Not when Robin's so clearly been doing good deeds in secret. Any frustration so far has been a product of inertia and months of one-sided rivalry twisting his perception of things.

Somewhere, somehow, a piece of advice had come to him: that an investigator ought to keep a clear head at all times, because no one else will.

"...it'll works, too. Robin deserves some thanks. He's been a team player tonight. Lots of people have been helping out, actually. We wouldn't be here without them."

Like a certain gloomy shut-in. Even if she'd never admit it.

The distant sound of church bells signals the coming end to the dark hour. Though it's strange...

"We don't have these in Aoyama, do we...? Do you have church bells in the morning where you're from, Myra?"

[Rafflesiac]

Logan Starbright & Amelia
SLEIPNIR - Logan's Room
11/16/2026
Monday ~ Evening

"I... Think everyone in the X-Cross liked her in the end, you two included. Not that I think she's the type that could ever bring herself to believe you guys were her friends... From how she was described to me, well I think she'd have a hard time really trusting in anybody..."

Logan considers Aislynn Wevere. She’s similar to Rice. It’s difficult to trust someone who’s hurt you. But Rice did nothing wrong. From the sound of things, Aislynn managed to wrong all of humanity, or someone speaking for us. The woman cursed enough to be hated was hated enough to be cursed. He frowns. Yet the X-Cross accepted her anyway. Very few are truly irredeemable to a Spirit Tamer; finding harmony with former opponents is our ideal. That’s the way of the Magic Age, of society - of humanity. Thus, she should no longer be the person deserving of humanity’s hate. Though from the sound of it, she doesn’t feel the same. As long as she’s cursed, she probably never will. Logan touches his cheek. Sin is heavy, after all.

"But the X-Cross was a pretty welcoming group! All of us were super weird in our own ways, all had ways we didn't quite fit into the World at large, so adding an actual alien to the group didn't really seem like that big a deal to me-!"

“I’ll have to treat her with an open mind, then.” If she wishes to atone, then I’m the last person on Earth to deny her.

The bell tolls. He’s not in his room. The bell tolls. He’s sitting in his chair. The bell tolls. He’s lying on the floor. The bell tolls. He’s closing his eyes to

reality

the dream

. The bell tolls. He’s opening his eyes to

the dream

reality

.

“Amelia, see if you can save.” Logan drops his controller on the chair with a clatter and lurches to the side of the bed. He grasps Jessica’s hand and softly squeezes it.

“Please don’t be afraid to take my hand. I will help you. I swear it.”

[Airen]

Logan Starbright & Amelia
SLEIPNIR - Logan's Room
11/16/2026
Monday ~ Evening

---Your vision flickers.

You're on the ground.

---Your vision flickers.

You're lurching across the room, as Amelia frantically finds the 'save' option in the menu.

---Your vision flickers.

The ground is cold and hard, sturdy, not the best for your back.

---Your vision flickers.

You grasp Jessica's hand in your own, saying words that you feel must be spoken aloud, before this moment ceases to exist entirely.

"..."

She squeezes back.

---And your vision flickers in response, out of rhythm with the others.

This time you're not on the floor of Alexia's room, although the sight of the sturdy grey tables that populated the SLEIPNIR's mess hall are familiar to your eyes. It's surprisingly late in the morning, 9:34 to be exact, but the artificial lighting of the mess hall windows reveals the usual sunrise.

You feel a bit shorter.

Hair is blonde, scattered around your face.

You feel aches and pains all over, although

Jessica

you're

not quite awake yet. Still, you're coming out of that voluntary coma called sleep, eyes flickering in the morning lights, and there's...

A man sitting across from you.

---He's easy to recognize.

After all, what granddaughter wouldn't know her grandpa? Even if he had taken those reversal of age treatments a bit more seriously then most...

He sees you stirring, and with a kind smile-

---Your vision flickers.

One more time, the last time.

Yes.

The dream world spinning around you, lucidity falls to dream one more time, just long enough for the pendant that had been around this girl's neck, one that had shown itself a bit with her mild thrashing...

"...You."

...To speak to you.

"...I remember you."

The A.I says calmly, without explaining a single thing about it, and-

You wake up.

---

Logan Starbright & Amelia
SLEIPNIR - Alexia's Ship
11/17/2026
Tuesday ~ Morning

---You're back.

Lying somewhat uncomfortably on the ground, you shake yourself awake before Rice does; the smaller, gradient haired girl doing more of an unconscious tumble to the floor as she rolls off of Alexia's bed in her awakening, the sound of her body hitting the floor next to you accompanied by a subtle, soft little yelp of mild self-inflicted distress-!

"Ow..."

She rubs her head groggily.

Amelia is back to normal, and...

9:35 AM.

...Seems you'd been out for awhile.

[Rafflesiac]

Logan Starbright
SLEIPNIR - Alexia's Ship
11/17/2026
Tuesday ~ Morning

Logan jerks awake. He pushes off of the floor and scrambles toward the door, sparing only a brief glance back at the awake and mildly pained Rice. “I have to go.”

He dashes toward the cafeteria, uncertainties churning in his gut. Jessica’s aboard the SLEIPNIR? She squeezed my hand. Did she come with Eliza? That man came too? She squeezed my hand. He’s her grandfather? My grandfather? She squeezed my hand. I don’t know him. Do I? Is he a- no, can’t be. She squeezed my hand. Is he her caretaker? Was he responsible for the cloning? She squeezed my hand. Does he even know? She squeezed my hand. Is she alright? I hurt her. She squeezed my hand.

If she needs help, I have to be there.

[Airen]

Logan Starbright
SLEIPNIR
11/16/2026
Monday ~ Evening

---You run.

Leaving Rice behind for now -even as the girl yells out a few things at your back- the body that dashes through the halls of a back-to-normal SLEIPNIR do so with all the speed of a man on a mission. Your mind runs with questions, questions of what the squeeze of a hand had meant, how Jessica had come to be on board this ship, how that man had come to be aboard this ship, why you seemed to have such a hard time grasping memories of what should be a sort of parental figure, someone you could feel you had met at least once -who you could feel a twinge of recognition about in your thoughts- but whose existence almost seemed to remain static-like and unclear in spite of that meeting, of course...

You were young at the time, only four or so right, so...

The minds of the young are not the best at grasping memories; sometimes things are simply lost or repressed...

It could be that sort of thing, right?

Something simple.

Innocent even.

The twinge that exists in your thoughts does not exactly label him as dangerous after all, no, if you had to place an emotion on that feeling, it would simply be...

Warmth?

Something like that?

The ship's halls aren't very busy. It seems that everyone is doing as they do best -that is, minding their own business- and with the lack of Yamuna's song playing over the speakers like yesterday, it's easy to almost imagine that you're back in the silent halls of the nightmare, but no...

There are some noises.

Bits of chatter from closed rooms, tapping of keyboard and terminals from the technicians, Anna walking her usual gallon mug of coffee up from the cafeteria towards the bridge (where Commander Adala usually was) giving you a passing smile and wave as she goes, and-

"...!"

-metal doors open to reveal the usual cafeteria, cafeteria from your vision from a moment ago, and-

"Oh!"

A chipper, cheerful voice of a young woman.

"Yo! Hey Logan~"

Jessica waves at you.

"We're over here! Over here!"

She waves, a plate of what seemed like pancakes and eggs sitting in front of her; her health seems more or less fine, although there are some bags under her eyes from lack of sleep, although she doesn't seem particularly bothered by it.

As for the other one...

"Good Morning."

Grandpa Cavan -yes, you're sure that's his name, Cavan- speaks in a calm but powerful voice, the sort innate to a patriarch of a family; that tone that is not aggressive or hostile but simply powerful, a charismatic voice that cuts through all others, in other words... It's a voice perfect for settling family disputes around the dinner table, no matter how unruly the other members of the household might act.

"You seem tired, boy." He chuckles in a good natured manner. "Were you up all night again? A muscle that is never allowed to rest inevitably atrophies, you know?"

---Yes.

This is Grandpa Cavan.

You're not sure of his surname -you were having a hard time remembering that part- but Cavan...

Yes.

A name similar in meaning to your own, your mother's inspiration when naming you...

A sharply dressed man with perfect posture, and a golden walking cane clutched in his right hand, but a smile that is not insincere or unkind; it's warm, much as you remembered it to be...

Although...

You were pretty sure... The Cavan you had met had been an old man -although you were pretty sure his voice had retained that fatherly power- then again...

Reversal of physical age wasn't an impossibility nowadays.

"But it's good to see you."

He nods.

He too, has a plate in front of himself.

Although in his case, he seems to have gone for a breakfast steak of some sort...

"I wasn't sure you'd come, this visit was... Rather last minute on our part, so I wouldn't have blamed you for skipping it."

He gestures to the last remaining seat at their circular table, the one in between him and Jessica, his words implying they had been expecting you to arrive all this time...

"I presume you haven't eaten anything? Jessica was just telling me the strangest story about a dream she had last night..."

Had it been arranged and you had simply forgotten?

Forgetting things seems to be a theme with this man... Although, as you look at him...

His last name was...

Akarana, right?

Your mom's old last name, the one she had had before she had taken on your dad's...

[Tobias]

Raz Stone
Raz's Soul (?)
??/??/????

As the bard listened to quite an interesting story, he led his head rest back without interruption, a strange, and unfamiliar, nigh paternal grin on his face.

A tale of arrogant gods, and plucky underdogs. Grief and triumph, guilt and willpower. Old as time, and still, so worth listening to.
Except…

Raz frowned. Right at the end. For a moment, he seemed uncharacteristically lost for words. The problem you see, was the story was great but…it was told by someone who didn’t understand the tale. Or perhaps, rejected the ending so tried to end the saga one page before the book closed.

But…was it his right to issue the correction? Lessons had far greater truth when one learned for themselves.

But…conveying a stories’ truth was the very job of a bard!

With that thought, Raz’s easy grin returned.

“A wonderful tale m’lady. But I can’t answer your question. Or more precisely I won’t. ‘You believe my little story?’ was it?” Raz waved that away. “Wrong question to ask. It doesn’t matter if a story is believed. It doesn’t even matter if it’s true does it? Those humans…they locked a prideful girl away, too …’teach her a lesson’ as I believe you said? Well, allow me to embrace the role of a knight and speak for those who can’t. Because here is the question to ask.”

…

The dramatic pause was obviously one of the more iconic tools of a tale spinner.

”it’s not should this story, once heard, be believed. It’s…is this tale worth the telling. Those insignificant specks? They wanted to be heard. Lies, or truth, these are just labels slapped on later. The worth of a song, a tale, a life…it’s found in the mouth that speaks, and the ears that hear.”

Raz strummed a simple tune, on an instrument that wasn’t. He lacked the DTG or the stage. But it didn’t seem to matter, not in this world that wasn’t.

"I believe I promised a song?"

The melody that played was simple, almost repetitive, but not boring. It was a tune for stimulating thought.

”This day, I was called a sinful name.
The source of my power, the start of fame.
Truth or lie, I’ll kill him myself, Dagonet.
He is a man I wish that I never met!”

Some would tell Raz to be careful. The lore of the Golden City was not to be trifled with.

…But…Arthur would probably understand.

”Shining eternal, resting on a golden hill,
Though all these worlds may end, The city never will!
To each knight a tale, a noble quest, a task…
to be fulfilled, completing, done in the past!”

”Power unchallenged, the gods may we break,
but only as long as we don’t resist fate…
I have seen shadows sing, may they become real?
Laughters end,
dead requiem,
The god’s hateful cry,
Themselves they deny,
but truth or lie…I believe... still.”

The bard let the last note fade.

“What makes Avalon so special, is its timelessness. That beautiful golden city I love. It’s eternal…


…Eternally breaking, that is.”

I’ll never accept that. Not ever.

Was it the Mantle of Dagonet? Was he, after all, just living his role? Knight’s gained power by joining with the reality of the City. Raz’s Wishing Star was, after all, a wreathing of Authority. And Dagonet was the knight who never lost faith. Who looked unafraid, and fought without hope, but fought anyway.

My name isn’t Dagonet. It’s Raz! And I will decide myself how this story ends!

The Golden City was eternal. That meant he had plenty of time. And sometimes the best tale was one where the ending was changed!

“The thing about eternity, about having eternity? Sometimes people think, well I have all the time, literally. So I don’t need to do anything right now. And then forever to change becomes never changes. And unending possibility becomes stagnation. There is a whole world…perhaps worlds waiting for you to…learn the lesson, as you said. But does that mean you are being punished or…

A bright smile against the darkness.

”They have just been waiting patiently, or so patiently, for someone to come back and say…I was right to start this story, and thank you for continuing it! Or to put that another way, dearest maid…what comes next?”

[Airen]

Raz Stone
Raz's Soul (?)
??/??/????

"..."

There are no interruptions.

Much as you had allowed her to tell her story in peace, so too did the violet-haired woman allow your words to pass unchallenged through your lips. It's easy to see that she does so just as much out of curiosity as she does a sense of politeness; having heard her story for yourself, her existence seems like a lonely one, a life where she rarely gets the chance to speak about her past to anyone else, so...

Perhaps it's only natural that she wants to hear your opinion on it.

---And you give it.

After all, there had always been something a little odd about her insistence that her ultimate fate was a punishment and nothing more; if humanity had truly overcome her in the end, if they had surpassed one of their 'creators' far enough that they were able to more or less disable her as a higher being...

They could have done anything they wanted to her; arguably, it would've been more efficient in the long run to just destroy her outright.

They chose not too, seemingly, so...

Was it really a punishment? Or something else? Even if it was a punishment, should that define the rest of her life? It's a story that needs more then the cursory view the girl herself seems to be giving it, and reminding her of that, she...

"...Hah..."

Another sigh.

"What's next?"

A question posed to the sky above, one that seemed to be slowly filling with stars, like a cloud canopy was unraveling before your very eyes.

"I dunno... I'm just a resident nowadays."

Quiet words.

"Your future is your own. Those that came before you fought hard for you to have it, shattering the very foundation of reality to make it possible."

---Again, hints of a defensive wall around herself.

Of course it makes sense, you are something of a stranger to her after all, right? Then again... Not only had she apparently gone out of her way to try to keep you alive, the way she spoke to you possessed a sort of innate, familiar quality to it, like...

A forgotten friend of sorts.

She sighs again, but the smile returns to her face.

"---I thought it was brilliant. Like heroes of a creation myth, it's a well deserved freedom. I have no intention of getting in the way of it."

A pause.

"But I suppose... Speaking as a resident, as someone else who just lives in this world... I'd like to complete the mission I took on with everyone, one that could only come from this hero-obsessed world of ours."

She looks down at you.

Her eyes are intense, lit with a storm of rumbling thoughts.

"---Mission to awaken your slumbering kin. Breaking the metaphysical chains on the other worlds... The ones doomed to die that didn't manage the miracle only two worlds did, two decades ago."

She stares at you now.

Unblinking.

"It was the mission given to a group named after the Anima Mundi, the so called world soul, that intrinsic connection between living things that ties all you earthly beings together. A concept that appears as two bands, crossing over each other like the letter Χ. Chi."

A pause.

"Χ-Cross. Do you remember?"

A question that bears a remarkably heavy weight...

"Do you want to remember?"