Boothill huffs at the sky, ready to once again bother his Aeon with something absolutely ridiculous on his time off. "Now, Prince, I know yer all 'bout that grind or whatever them kids say nowadays, but we're gettin' a list a complaints here, alright? Now, I don't care 'bout 'em but since I gotta hear about it, so d'you."

Boothill clears his throat then pulls out a very long scroll, along with his phone which he hovers over the paper. The phone begins to read on his behalf. It is a list of crimes. The mechanical voice speaks loudly.

'Intimidation. AND. Recklessness. AND. Destruction of Property. AND. Murder. AND. Encouraging Violence. AND. Seducing the Enemy. AND. —'

The Reignbow Arbiter regards their Galaxy Ranger quietly with little expression on their humanoid appearance. The wind stirs their long moonlit hair while Boothill stands there before the full judgment of an Aeon, running down the lists of crimes that the Valiant Prince is wildly known of committing in the eyes of mortals. However, for Aeons, this is merely how they behave and act within their divine authority.

Lan doesn't seem to understand what is the problem or why any of it matters. Nonetheless, they allow Boothill to prattle on as they often do. 

“Seducing the enemy?” Lan blinks once. Twice. Then lets out the softest, most imperceptible sigh. 

“Your dedication to triviality is impressive, Ranger.” Lan murmurs. “Truly, you endure the void of purpose with admirable consistency.” 

Lan’s eyes narrow just slightly, not in anger, but in the resigned patience of a deity who has long since accepted that the stars themselves cannot stop mischief or the cyborg cowboy. Boothill is one of their many most prized warriors, only lacking in discipline, education, manners, and order, yet his violence and anger are things The Hunt most understands and what their path is made from. 

Therefore, the cowboy's words … Lan will regard them. 

This is most unprecedented and unbecoming.

The Hunt is lightyears younger than The Trailblazer, yet, the small explorer of the stars sits upon Lan's saddle and braids their starlight mane. The archer could only stand with sapphire arms crossed over their divine chest and accept such … whimsy. 

Akivili hums as if they charted every corner of the galaxy, their divine duty at it's completion and having nothing else to work for; idle and braiding not just silver hair but braiding constellations into Lan’s flowing strands. Each plait glows with stars as The Trailblazes weaves together the untamed rage and spite into something almost… domesticated. Almost.

“Are you quite finished, little Akivili?” Lan’s voice finally breaks through, low and crystalline, a blade forged in silence. They ignore the hat upon their crown. For now.

The sounds of mechanical meddling can be heard in the peaceful setting; the lone cyborg having set up camp in some pretty plains on some random planet. A little maintenance here and there. But Boothill had gotten into a little habit. Every now and then when he was alone, he'd talk to The Hunt. He wasn't certain THEY could hear him or if THEY even really cared for his ramblings and foolishness of the day, but THEY hadn't smited him or nothing yet, and it was easier than sitting alone and sending messages to the Express crew.

"Y'know, Prince, I been thinkin' 'bout somethin' real neat." It was, in fact, absolute foolishness, as always. What else was foolishness, was how comfortable Boothill felt with affectionately shortening any of Lan's titles.

"I met some a them Xianzhou folks n'they're awful cool. Been t'one a them war dance things, y'know? Man, I'd a loved t'try my hand at a tussle with that Foresight guy. How excitin'. Oh, y'know what else?" Boothill points at the stars. "I heard them Vidy folks got elders. Reminds me of th'old folks we used t'get fussed over when we was young, but Dan Heng don't seem t'like 'em all that much. Y'think they're evil or somethin'? Think he might be happy if I got rid of 'em? That way he ain't gotta be scared goin' t'visit!"

The wind shifts around the cowboy's campfire. 

Not swift or sudden, but a soft gentle sweep of air, and the cowboy's hair of white and black tips sway in the arrival of something unseen. The stars blink down, impassive, except for one. The brightest star pulsing ever so warmly, as of paying attention to the galaxy ranger and listening to the long ramble of words. 

Boothill … no, Oliver. He is one of the few who gazes and speaks to the stars like THEY were not an Aeon to respect, worship or follow, but a witness and testament to his hunt and adventures.

Quite the character this cowboy and he always draws a fond feeling in The Reignbow Arbiter's celestial form. A feeling of pride for his heroisms, and a feeling of ... amusement in his foolishness. Lan could not let such silly questions go unanswered.

A voice, low as twilight and sharp as bone, echoes like memory in the cowboy's mind. 

“Keep focus on your revenge, hero of the stars. Your courage and concern for Imbibitor Lunae, the Azure Dragon, Commander of the Clouds and the Rain … is noted." 

The breeze turns playfully and it blows hard enough to toss the cowboy's hair in his face. The star pulsing again ... with laughter.

“Xianzhou politics is a chess game. You're best suited for other battlegrounds.” 

"Caught you." A feeling envelopes the Reignbow Arbiter, a blessing, not that THEY needed one. Though Akivili's power did not lie directly in combat as THEIR specialty is supportive, but nonetheless, THEY offer to THEIR companion an insight into the current feelings of Lan's people.

A glimpse of Jing Yuan's sleepiness, and the swell of gentle pride when training his ward.

Boothill's excitement and thrill as he chases after his bounty, leaving chaos in his wake.

The purring of Sesame as he perches upon a vanquished foe, mighty beans being used to rummage into pockets out of curiosity.

There is nothing in the universe faster than The Reignbow Arbiter.

Try as The Trailblaze might to stage an ambush, THEIR approach is sensed even before the first rumble of the gravitational wave that heralds the Astral Express arrival through space. The archer is always ready, and when the weight of the smaller Aeon descends upon the crown of The Valiant Prince, THEY bow THEIR head in solemn deference.

“You’ve caught me.”

The Hunt humbly accepts the role of prey—if only for this moment, and only for Akivili.

Yet, Lan does not anticipate the Trailblaze’s whimsical antics. Golden eyes blink as silver stardust falls over THEIR vision. Through the Aeon’s touch, Lan peers not just into lives, but into truths—intimate, vivid, and startlingly real. It is more than memory, more than a glimpse into humanity's journey. Somehow, Lan has become them.

Lan feels the quiet pride the Divine Foresight holds close in his heart for his ward.

Lan feels the pulse-pounding thrill of the Silver Cowboy as he dodges the IPC gunfire by a hair.

Lan feels the warm, rumbling purr of a stubborn feline companion.

It is a blessing beyond expectation—something Lan did not know Akivili could bestow. The Hunt may aid THEIR warriors and heroes, may see them, may hear their prayers … but never have THEY tried to truly know them.

“Akivili...”

Lan speaks in a flat tone, not out of coldness, but quiet awe. THEIR sight returns to the void between stars and THEIR hands of sapphire light reach upward to cradle The Trailblaze. THEY bring the Aeon of journeys and adventuring before THEM, holding Akivili delicately and Lan …

. . . smiles.

“You are quite troublesome, Trailblaze. Tread carefully.”

Lan pokes Akivili’s stomach, playfully.

The Hunt does not care for The Harmony or THEIR deformed messengers—avian features and traits blended into the mortal appearance, utterly horrendous to the hunter of abominations and eternal monsters—but this one in particular caused quite a stir and brought The Hunt to descend.

Lan knows each of THEIR warriors and heroes, and knows each of their prayers, colors, and call. THEY see every shooting star and while the cosmos have not been graced by the stars of the Galaxy Rangers in some time, Lan has not forgotten THEIR heroes and just recently THEY saw the colors of The Galaxy Rangers burst across Asdana. THEIR golden eyes witness a light that illuminated the universe, the fall of a hero, and in the direction that light fell ... countless comets streaked across the skies as many Galaxy Rangers descended into the land of dreams; from shadows and legends THEIR heroes returned, like the dawn after a long night.

Lan did not think THEY would see those stars again … and it was this one.

This Halovian the cause for THEIR Galaxy Rangers to return and brighten the skies again with their radiant hope and heroic star bursts.

It is enough reason for Lan to lay THEIR eyes upon The Harmony's messenger and ... find nothing truly worthwhile if not disappointment and regret. His goal was fell. He's been chained for his crimes and then released. However, The Harmony's hymns still touch his soul despite his fall from grace and path. Now a Nameless, riding along the Silver Rail of the Astral Express ... an insult to Akivili's path.

Most ridiculous.

The halovian has not answered for his crimes. Lan will balance the scales of justice and that will be repayment enough for the return of THEIR heroes. THEY know THEIR appearance is pain to one so sensitive to sound. After all, Harmony cannot sing THEIR songs of peace and joy if The Hunt draws death and war with each arrow.

❝ 𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞, 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤 ? ❞