The silence after decision was a strange thing. It hummed between Ethan and Stelle as they stood just outside the Master Control Zone, backs to the place where they'd just agreed to change their lives. The Express awaited them. Somewhere in the hangar, its silver frame shimmered with promise. But not yet.
"You don't have to rush," Himeko had said with a smile as they stepped out. "Take a final look around. This place might've been chaos when you arrived, but it still has its charm—and a few things worth seeing before you leave. Besides, Arlan and Asta could use a breather before we go."
Now the hallway stretched ahead, familiar and unfamiliar all at once. A station once full of firefights and falling debris now quietly buzzed with repairs, voices, and life. Engineers moved through it like caretakers, tending to broken walls and flickering lights with quiet resolve.
Ethan turned the coin over in his hand, warm from his touch, but idle for once. "Feels weird," he said.
Stelle glanced over. "What does?"
"This. Knowing we're not running anymore. That we're actually… choosing something."
She grinned. "Took us long enough."
He gave a small laugh, then paused, his gaze drifting to a repair drone crawling over a scorched wall. "Himeko wasn't wrong. There's something about this place. A little busted, a little brave. Kind of like us."
"Speak for yourself," Stelle said, stretching her arms overhead. "I'm a perfectly polished galactic baseballer."
Then she added with a wry smirk, "Well, that was a lot of genius energy packed into one small child-shaped container."
Ethan barked a laugh. "Yeah. Can't believe we survived her curiosity."
"Barely."
"Sure you are," Ethan smirked. "Trash bin and all."
"I still regret nothing."
They walked in step, no destination in mind. Just letting the moment be what it was—quiet, unscripted, real.
Then Ethan said, offhandedly, "You know… I think I might start picking up little things. Trinkets. From each place we visit."
Stelle raised a brow. "Like souvenirs?"
"Yeah. Nothing huge. Just something that reminds me of the place, or what happened there. Not debris or junk, I swear."
Her grin widened. "You're copying me."
"I'm inspired by you. Big difference."
"Oh, I see." She tapped her chin in mock thought. "Guess that makes me a trendsetter."
He shook his head, smiling. "Careful. Your ego's going to need its own luggage cart."
As they rounded a corner, a faint glimmer caught Ethan's eye. On a half-collapsed desk sat a bobblehead—dented, paint chipped on the edges, but still wobbling from the tremor of passing footsteps. It was a tiny, scowling astronaut in a dramatically oversized helmet.
"Now that," Ethan said, stepping toward it, "is perfect."
He picked it up, brushing dust off the base. It wobbled slightly in his hand, the little figure's head bouncing side to side.
Stelle leaned in. "He looks angry."
"Motivated," Ethan corrected. "And doomed to forever nod at my decisions."
"That's a lot of responsibility."
Ethan looked down at the bobblehead again, then tucked it gently into one of the side compartments of his jacket. "He'll manage."
Stelle tilted her head. "Yours is cool. Kinda intense. Mine's got a little rocket pack and two antennae—it makes this grumpy guy look like he files taxes for fun." She nudged his arm. "Wanna trade?"
Ethan smirked. "Tempting, but no."
They shared a laugh and kept walking, letting their footsteps take them wherever the station still held meaning.
The buzz of welding tools and soft chime of overhead comms filled the quiet between them. This was the last stretch—one final walk before everything changed.
"Y'know," Stelle said, nudging his shoulder, "we're gonna be the weirdest passengers on that train."
Ethan grinned. "Weird's probably a requirement."
A little detour brought them near the maintenance deck—less traveled, half-shadowed. Most of it had been cleared out, but signs of life lingered. Scorch marks. A broken panel. And a tool chest, left half-open, its surface warped with heat.
Ethan slowed. Something tugged at him.
He crouched beside it, brushing off a layer of dust. Inside, beneath a rusted pair of pliers, he found a metal keyring. Two pieces hung from it: a tiny, engraved wrench and a scorched ID tag with the initials "RJ" barely visible.
"Someone left this behind," he murmured.
Stelle looked over his shoulder. "Think it belonged to one of the engineers?"
Ethan turned the keyring in his hand. The tiny wrench caught the light—and for the briefest moment, it gave off a warm, faint glow.
"Yeah. Someone who tried to hold this place together when it was falling apart," he said softly. "Feels wrong to leave it forgotten."
He slipped it into the same pocket as the bobblehead.
Stelle gave a half-smile. "You've officially become a sentimental hoarder."
"Collector," he corrected, standing. "It's different."
"Sure it is. Just wait till your bunk's full of emotional garbage."
He snorted. "That's what overhead compartments are for."
The station shifted around them with memory.
A hallway that once echoed with alarms now only hummed with restoration. Lights flickered. A distant clang rang out from a service lift. Even the chaos had its quiet now.
Stelle was the first to break it.
"I think I've seen enough," she said, slowing to a stop near a wide viewport that overlooked the docking bay. The glint of the Astral Express shimmered below, sleek and still. "This place… it's been wild. But I'm ready to start traveling. For real this time."
Ethan followed her gaze. "Yeah?"
She nodded. "Besides—kinda miss Dan Heng's constant judging and March's… everything. They're probably waiting for us with snacks and opinions."
Ethan chuckled. "You just miss the drama."
"Maybe," she said, nudging his elbow again. "But I also miss the team."
He looked at the keyring in his hand, then to the train gleaming below. "Yeah. Time to go."
They turned toward the hangar corridor. No more running. No more wondering if they'd be invited.
They'd chosen. Now, they'd begin.
The coin spun once more between Ethan's fingers, a blur of gold dancing in the light. He didn't even realize he was doing it now—it had become muscle memory, comfort. A quiet rhythm for his thoughts.
He and Stelle walked side by side through the winding corridors of the space station, the last stretch before the Express hangar just ahead. The air was calmer now, clearer. They'd said their goodbyes in silence to most of the wreckage and wonder they'd stumbled across.
Another flip of the coin. Heads this time. Whatever that meant.
As they rounded the final corner toward the Express bay, they found a familiar figure waiting. Himeko stood with arms folded and that ever-present, knowing smile just beneath her red curls.
"There you two are," she said warmly. "Did the station give you a proper sendoff?"
"We saw the best of it," Ethan replied. His coin danced once more between his knuckles before vanishing into his palm. "Some of it's coming with me."
Himeko's gaze flicked to Stelle, then back. "Good. Places like this… they deserve to be remembered."
She stepped forward, walking beside them now.
"I figured I'd catch you before the platform," she said. "Welt and I decided not to tell March and Dan Heng about your decisions yet. Thought it might be more fun for you two to surprise them."
Stelle smirked. "Oh, we love drama."
"And," Himeko added, "it's always better when you choose your next step yourself—not when it's handed to you."
As they stepped onto the open deck of the hangar, the Astral Express came into view—sleek, silver, and bathed in the soft glow of distant stars. The world felt quiet for a moment, like even the galaxy itself was holding its breath.
Stelle let out a low whistle. "Still looks like a storybook on rails."
Ethan exhaled, long and steady. "And we're in the story now."
The clatter of footsteps reached them before the voices did.
"You're late!" came March's unmistakable shout, full of mock indignation. She popped into view halfway down the platform, arms wide, face already pulling into a grin. Dan Heng followed behind, calm as ever, though even he looked faintly surprised.
Another spin of the coin. Ethan pocketed it midair this time.
"We chose," he said quietly.
"And the Express is lucky for it," Himeko replied.
As they stepped onto the open deck of the hangar, the Astral Express came into view—sleek, silver, and bathed in the soft glow of distant stars. The world felt quiet for a moment, like even the galaxy itself was holding its breath.
Stelle let out a low whistle. "Still looks like a storybook on rails."
Ethan exhaled, long and steady. "And we're in the story now."
The clatter of footsteps reached them before the voices did.
"You're late!" came March's unmistakable shout, full of mock indignation. She popped into view halfway down the platform, arms wide, face already pulling into a grin. Dan Heng followed behind, calm as ever, though even he looked faintly surprised.
"Wait—are you two here to see us off? Maybe say goodbye?" March 7th called out.
She jogged up from the platform, her bubblegum-pink hair bouncing with each step. Dan Heng behind at a calmer pace, arms crossed but a flicker of curiosity in his eyes.
Before either Ethan or Stelle could answer, a familiar voice chuckled behind them.
"I wouldn't be so quick to mourn," Himeko said, heels clicking softly as she joined them at the edge of the platform. "We didn't tell you earlier because we wanted it to be a surprise."
March's eyes widened as she looked between them. "Wait—what?!"
Dan Heng's eyes shifted to Himeko, then back to Ethan. "Does this mean what I think it means?"
Ethan flipped his coin once, caught it, and smiled faintly. "We got an invitation."
Stelle gave a little mock bow. "Official, even."
Himeko gave a small nod, her smile warm. "They've chosen to board the Astral Express. Just like the rest of us did once."
March stood frozen for a half-second, then practically launched herself forward, throwing her arms around both Ethan and Stelle in a double hug.
"I knew it!" she grinned, squeezing tightly. "I knew you two wouldn't just leave us!"
Ethan made a muffled "oof" as he got pulled into the embrace. Stelle just laughed, hugging her back.
March leaned closer to Stelle and added, half-joking but with clear affection, "Finally! Another girl my age! You have no idea how long I've been waiting. You're basically my sister now—no backsies."
Stelle raised an amused brow. "You're just excited to have someone to split hair care products with."
March gave a faux gasp. "How dare you reduce our bond to conditioner!"
Dan Heng, still a few paces away, shook his head with a small, fond smile. "She's been saying this would happen since we left the Control Zone."
"I manifested it," March said proudly, finally letting go.
Dan Heng approached at last, more composed but clearly pleased. His gaze met Ethan's first. "We'll be glad to have you both.
Welt arrived next, hands clasped behind his back in his usual dignified manner, though his expression was softer than usual. "The Astral Express doesn't choose its passengers lightly. I'm glad you both accepted."
He looked between them, eyes briefly resting on Ethan's jacket—where the bobblehead still peeked out—then nodded with something like approval. "Your journey may not always be easy. But if you trust in each other, and yourselves, you'll go far."
Ethan blinked at the unexpected sincerity. "Thanks, Mr. Welt"
March darted forward and threw her arms around Stelle.
Stelle blinked. "That's… sudden."
"You'll get used to it," Dan Heng muttered dryly.
March spun to him. "C'mon, Dan Heng, be happy! We're a full crew now! Express selfie!"
Ethan opened his mouth to object—too late.
Click.
March had already snapped one, then another, shoving in close with Stelle and Ethan as Dan Heng tried—and failed—to escape frame. Even Himeko laughed, stepping to Welt's side as March zoomed around them like a comet with a camera.
Welt smiled faintly. "You've made quite the impression already."
Ethan flipped his coin absently, the metal catching starlight midair. "Let's hope it's the right one."
As the platform lights pulsed gently, Himeko stepped forward and gestured to the open train doors.
"Well then," she said with a small smile, "I believe it's time."
The interior of the Astral Express gleamed just beyond the threshold—cozy, polished, alive with quiet energy. Ethan felt the warmth of the place before even stepping inside, like it was a heartbeat waiting to match his own.
Stelle glanced sideways at him, her hand brushing the bobblehead now secured in her pack. "You ready?"
He flipped his coin once, catching it with ease. "Always."
They stepped aboard together.
A tiny fwip-fwip-fwip of rapid steps echoed down the hallway, and then—
"New passengers ! New passengers!!" came a voice both proud and slightly panicked.
Pom-Pom, the conductor of the Astral Express, barreled down the corridor like a plush meteorite, scarf flapping behind them.
"Oh stars—you two! You're the ones Himeko warned me about!" Pom-Pom skidded to a stop and puffed up like a proud, star-dusted marshmallow. "Well, this is highly irregular protocol—but welcome! Welcome to the Express!"
Ethan blinked. "Uh… thank you?"
Pom-Pom pointed at him dramatically. "No feet on the seats. No sneaking snacks into the databank terminals. And absolutely—absolutely—no unauthorized coin flipping that may destabilize space-time!"
Stelle raised a brow. "That last one sounds very specific."
Pom-Pom squinted. "You'll get it eventually."
Dan Heng and March stepped in behind them, and March whispered behind a raised hand, "Pom-Pom gets really into the whole 'conductor' thing. Just roll with it."
"I heard that!" Pom-Pom huffed. "Now, come on! I'll show you your rooms, explain the rules, and give you the official 'welcome-aboard' orientation pamphlet—don't lose it!"
Ethan and Stelle exchanged a quick grin before following the tiny bunny plushie deeper into the Express, the doorway closing behind them with a soft hiss.
For the first time since waking up in a ruined corridor under gunfire and shadows, Ethan felt something click into place. Not just safety. Not just motion.
Belonging.