Chapter Text
History repeated itself.
It was a fact Dan Heng knew intimately.
It had been years since Jarilo-VI, but the pattern was the same — an isolated world, a broken silver rail, and a Stellaron’s signature, choking off an entire planet from the rest of the universe.
And once again, a small, brave team of three was dispatched to investigate the source of the silence.
Dan Heng didn’t account for their uncoupled train car to… crash so suddenly.
March was coughing. Stelle was groaning. Both were, thankfully, alive and uninjured, if disoriented. They brushed off his concern with shaky hands and stubborn smiles.
With one last reluctant glance, Dan Heng summoned Cloud-Piercer. He set the spear’s tip against the warped seam of the door and pushed. Metal screeched in protest as he forced it open, muscles straining until the latch finally yielded with a sharp, relieving hiss.
They stepped out into the sunlight.
…Huh.
The field they had “landed” in was a tapestry of wild grass and stubborn saplings, dotted with stumps, boulders, and trees that had grown every which way. Dan Heng stared at their poor train car, mortified. It was half-buried in loam, creating a furrow that would give any real estate agent a heart attack.
To the south and west stretched a dense, shadowed forest. To the north, a range of quiet mountains. And to the east — beyond the uneven ground — a small town came into view: rustic rooftops clustered around a winding river, so tranquil it looked almost like a diorama come to life.
This was Verdantia-312. A world blessed by Abundance… and, if Mr. Yang’s readings were correct, home to a Stellaron.
This place, the heart of it all, and the anomaly’s epicenter — Stardew Valley.
+++
They set up temporary shelter in the farmhouse they’d found half-collapsed on the hill near the crash site. How convenient. Its wooden walls were riddled with mold and ivy, but there was still running water and a functional stove. Someone had cared for this place once.
“Abandoned,” Dan Heng observed. The furniture was simple, the air faintly scented with old wood and dust. “But not neglected. There’s been maintenance.”
“It’s creepy,” March said, snapping a few pictures. “Like the owner just vanished. Poof!”
“Or left,” Stelle replied, already rummaging through the drawers, pocketing whatever struck her fancy. “Maybe they found something better to do… Hmm. How much could we exchange Credits here for, d’you reckon?”
Dan Heng didn’t answer.
He let his glamour fall — hair spilling longer down his back, eyes brightening to an ethereal hue, the faint taper of his ears returning to their natural shape. Drawing a slow breath, he reached out through the moisture in the air, through the damp soil and the stream nearby, and listened.
And there it was. He felt it. A trace of Yaoshi’s touch — faint, diffused, almost tender.
He took a step back, willing his cloudhymn magic to cloak his Vidyadharan features once more.
Dan Heng had seen the Abundance’s corruption before: twisted, voracious, unstoppable. Mara. The bane of all long-life species. But unlike with the Xianzhou Alliance, on this planet, it felt different. Controlled.
The thought barely settled when purple smoke seeped through the cracks, and the door creaked open
Dan Heng straightened instinctively, Cloud-Piercer materializing in his grip. March froze and ducked behind Stelle, who instantly summoned her bat.
+++
The strange, purple-haired man introduced himself as Magnus Rasmodius, a wizard.
The wizard was dressed head to toe in deep violet, with threads of gold and silver stitched into his robes like faint constellations. His expression was caught somewhere between irritation and curiosity as his gaze shifted from Dan Heng, to Stelle, then March, and back to Dan Heng.
Dan Heng could hear what the other was probably thinking. A strange young man with two strange young women, wearing weird clothes and hair. That they must be tourists, or very out of touch city rats.
Rasmodius regarded them in silence for several seconds before speaking.
“That was quite the entrance you had there, outlanders,” he said at last, his voice a measured drawl. “The town saw the light and the smoke. They will come searching soon.”
Dan Heng inclined his head slightly. “We mean no harm. Our arrival was… unplanned.”
“So I gathered,” the man replied dryly, eyeing the wrecked train car outside. “Few visitors arrive by crater.”
The wizard stepped closer, foot tapping once against the floorboards. A soft pulse of energy rippled outward, brushing against each of them like a curious little zephyr. March shivered; Stelle flinched.
Dan Heng frowned. “Stop that.”
“Just checking,” the man said dismissively, then frowns.
A Scion of Long, a Pure Child of Anāsrava, and a vessel for a Stellaron.
“You bring with you echoes of gods and calamities not born of this soil.” He studied them for a long moment, eyes glinting beneath the brim of his hat. “Verdantia’s leylines are sensitive. The valley breathes in rhythm with the stars. You three are… dissonant.”
“And you care because…?” Stelle prompted.
Rasmodius gives her a dry look. “Like I said, I am a wizard, and thus, guardian of the valley’s ley lines. And when something crashes from the heavens reeking of divinity, I take interest. So what will it be, friend or foe?”
Before Stelle or March could say something biting or sarcastic, Dan Heng met his gaze evenly. “Neither. We’re travelers investigating an anomaly. Once our vehicle is repaired, we’ll be gone.”
Rasmodius’s mouth twitched — not quite a smile. “Good. Then we understand each other. Help if you must, but do not linger longer than the stars allow.”
The wizard inclined his head towards the town, then snapped his fingers, and Stelle’s eye twitched with recognition. Clockwork. “The mayor will come knocking tomorrow. The town will think it’s a meteor, and that you are tourists who have just arrived.”
He turned, robes whispering against the floor. As if he hadn’t just… wiped or rewrote the townspeople’s memories.
“The people of Pelican Town are simple. They know nothing of magic, monsters, or the gods you may know. They know only the rhythm of soil and rain. If they suspect anything… supernatural, they will panic — and panic here can be dangerous.”
Rasmodius paused at the threshold and glanced over his shoulder towards them, eyes glinting through the dim light. He produced a pouch from thin air and tossed it to Stelle.
“Take that, your money will not work here. Lay low. Stay among them if you must, but keep your truth hidden. I will watch… and should mass hysteria arise, you will answer to me first.”
With that, Rasmodius was gone — vanishing into the mist like morning dew, leaving the three of them staring at the open door and the faint scent of sage and ozone.
March finally exhaled. “Okay,” she muttered, “so that’s definitely a real wizard.”
Stelle nudged Dan Heng. “Hey. So, like. There’s only one bed.”