Honkai: Star Rail — Kamen Rider! [29]

?!

Sora blinked in surprise as his surroundings suddenly shifted—he had once again entered the Planetary Library.

What the hell? Wasn't I just outside, enjoying my very own children's concert?

Why am I here again—

Something was off.

The Planetary Library still looked as dim and chaotic as before, but this time… the atmosphere felt wrong.

Sora's senses immediately sharpened.

Books—hundreds of them—were vanishing before his eyes.

One by one, volume after volume faded into nothingness. And with each disappearance, a ribbon of silvery light drifted upward like a soul leaving a body.

It was surreal. Eerie. Almost sacred.

Actually… only he could see this. No one else had access to the Library. No one else could even enter it.

So if he was the only witness to this phenomenon… then what exactly did it mean?

He watched in silence.

Each book represented a memory. And the Library stored the memory of the planet itself.

So…

The planet is forgetting...

He froze.

If the planet's memories are fading…

That could only mean one thing.

Death.

Just as with humans, where memories vanish hours after brain activity ceases, this was the planetary equivalent of a last breath.

Sora felt his blood run cold.

Is Camille... dying?

His eyes snapped open in a panic.

"Oi oi oi, this is bad. Really bad!"

Hadn't they just destroyed the War Foundry?

Hadn't Anna just saved them using the arrows of the Hunt Aeon?

How could the planet be—dying—now?!

@#￥!%＆—

Suddenly, Sora felt something—faint and buzzing, like the whine of a mosquito at the edge of hearing.

He turned.

Books were flipping open on their own.

Rustle... rustle...

Pages fluttered in waves, and even the air stirred—a breeze sweeping through, brushing strands of hair across Sora's face.

The wind steadied some of the flying books, halting their disappearance—just barely.

But it wasn't enough. The planet's memory continued to vanish.

Then—

Pain.

Searing, brutal.

Sora clutched his head as darkness overtook his vision.

When he opened his eyes again—

He was back in the playground.

The children stood before him, eyes bright and expectant, waiting for his response.

Sora blinked, collected his thoughts quickly, and forced a smile.

He gave them a thumbs up.

"You guys sang great."

The kids erupted in cheers.

Clearly, his approval meant everything to them.

"I've got a few other things to take care of, so I'll leave for now."

What he'd just experienced had shaken him deeply—he couldn't ignore it.

"Okay! Bye-bye, Sora-oniisan!"

"See you soon!"

They were understanding—smart enough to know he wasn't someone who stayed in one place for long.

Once he was out of sight, Sora leaned against a wall and slid down, cradling his pounding head.

What... was that feeling?

His mind throbbed. His chest twisted with raw emotion. He felt like he could snap at any moment.

A side effect of the Memories?

It hit him.

This was a detail buried in Rider lore—one that never affected the main characters but was listed in the original setting.

Using Gaia Memories caused "Toxins" to accumulate—emotionally corrosive backlash that made people unstable, aggressive, and eventually violent.

He closed his eyes and forced himself to suppress the rising pressure in his brain.

Only when a wave of soothing warmth calmed the storm inside did he open them again.

"Are you okay, Sora?"

It was Robin—somehow having followed him without a sound, her face etched with worry.

"You didn't suffer some kind of internal injury back at the Foundry, did you? Maybe we should have Anna or Ouja take a look?"

Robin assumed this was battlefield trauma—after all, many soldiers collapsed after the battle, their bodies and minds refusing to rest.

"I'm fine," Sora lied. "Just didn't sleep well last night..."

He tried to stand—but suddenly—

Thump thump!

That heartbeat-like pulse echoed again.

And once more, he was dragged into the Planetary Library.

This time, he didn't see books.

He saw light.

Silvery silhouettes—humanoid, radiant—rushing toward something unseen.

And then—

He snapped back.

Blood trickled from his nose. He wiped it away.

His fingers came away red.

And then—his world tilted, and he collapsed.

...

A crowd had gathered around the infirmary bed.

The doctor's diagnosis was clear.

"It's just mental strain. With rest, he'll recover."

"Could it be battlefield-induced trauma?" Robin asked.

"No," the doctor shook his head. "He just hasn't rested properly. Miss Robin, your use of Harmony helped ease his mind. Without it, he might've slipped into a deeper coma."

"For now, let him sleep. He'll be fine."

With a nod to Anna and Ouja, the doctor excused himself.

Only the three women remained in the room.

Robin looked thoughtful for a moment, then turned to Anna.

"First Seat... if you could simulate Harmony using the planetary force, couldn't you alleviate Sora's mental stress right now?"

After all, the Aeon Xipe, embodiment of Harmony, had the power to soothe entire star systems with a single touch.

If they could mimic that...

Anna didn't respond immediately.

Instead, she lowered her gaze.

"…There's a problem."

"Huh?" Robin blinked.

"Well, the truth is," Ouja cut in, scratching her cheek, "that whole 'simulate Aeon powers' thing... was mostly just for show."

"Our planet can only simulate the powers of the Hunt Aeon."

"Wait—seriously?!"

Anna nodded. "The key is the 'token' and the royal bloodline. Together, they can channel the planetary will."

She held up a silver-white bullet.

"This is the token."

Robin fell silent, then frowned.

"…So, your royal ancestors. Were they Galaxy Rangers?"

Anna shook her head. "No. We're native-born, not offworld colonists."

"As for why the token and bloodline allow us to commune with the planet... I suspect the truth lies at Camille's origin."

Robin sighed.

There was no solution here.

So, once again, she placed her hands gently over the unconscious Sora and infused him with her Harmony.

And in the depths of his fevered dreams...

Sora saw it.

The beginning.

The moment of Camille's birth.

His voice croaked in disbelief:

"…You've got to be kidding me."

"This is what you call 'a blessing from the Goddess of Life'?!"