Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Don't touch that," Herta barks.

March's hands flinch away from the pocket watch-shaped object, suspended by cables and wires and attached to the matrix of the Simulated Universe. "Sorry!" she yelps. "I just couldn't help myself! It's so shiny…"

"You should know not to touch curios by now," Dan Heng says, scolding. March pouts at him. 

Herta sniffs. "I will not be held liable for anything that happens to you." She goes back to fiddling with a side panel. 

Stelle yanks March back a few feet. "Sorry," she says, apologizing in place of her friend. "Is this thing dangerous?"

"Nothing you can’t handle," Herta says dismissively. 

"So, like…not more than usual?" Stelle asks. Dan Heng frowns.

"Small chance of cognitive dissonance, but nothing major."

"Cognitive dissonance?" Dan Heng asks. "From what?"

Behind him, March whispers to Stelle, "what’s cognitive dissonance?" 

Stelle shrugs back.

"Just from mentally being in there a week," Herta says. "But the brat’s resilient. She’ll be fine. Some other possibilities, too, since my Universe is not yet properly configured to accept external hardware, but I can’t be bothered to list them all, and they won’t be an issue for you."

"A week? I didn’t sign up for a week," Stelle says, crossing her arms. "I have things to do in that time. You trying to trick me?"

"You’ll only be in there an hour," says the puppet, with all the patience of someone trying to explain the whys of the universe to a toddler. "It will feel like a week. That’s why I said ‘mentally.’"

Stelle shrugs, satisfied with this explanation. Her friends, however, are not.

"Stelle, I’m not sure about this," March says. Dan Heng crosses his arms in agreement.

"Ehhhhh, it’ll be fine. Herta won’t let me die. I’m too much of an investment."

"And an overconfident brat," Herta says. "I’m done. Get in." She stands up from the panel, gesturing to the entrance of her Simulated Universe.

Stelle dodges March’s grabs and steps onto the blue platform, stretching her arms above her head. "Ready! See you in an hour, I guess?"

"Are you sure you’ll be alright?" Dan Heng asks. 

Beside him, March braces herself.

Stelle shrugs as the Simulated Universe starts up, engulfing her in blue light. "Too late now!"

"No, it’s not," Dan Heng is about to say, but then –

– March launches herself forward, reaching for Stelle –

– "March, No," Dan Heng tries to say, grabbing at her wrist –

– and all three of them go tumbling into the blue light, leaving behind an exasperated Herta.

"Idiot kids," she mutters.

They’re let out somewhere in a copy of the Artisanship Commission alleys. Stelle yawns, stretches, and does a double take at the sight of her friends. "I thought I told Herta to set me up with Bronya and Seele," she says.

"Aha, sorry!" March says sheepishly. "You get us instead. I couldn’t just leave you alone for a whole week!"

"March," Dan Heng begins. 

She cuts him off. "Oh, don’t worry about it, Dan Heng! I’m sure Herta has all sorts of backup plans, with her whole Genius Society thing!"

Stelle blinks. "You’re…the real March and Dan Heng."

"Of course! Who else would we be?"

"Herta sets me up with fake people sometimes, so I can work with a team. But that’s not important. I don’t think the Universe is meant to support more than one brain." 

"Oh, no," March says. "Did I mess things up? Should we leave?" She looks around, fretting, for some sort of exit sign.

"I don’t think you can, for now," Stelle admits. "We need to find a Herta puppet, and she only shows up after I’m almost dead or I’ve gathered a bunch of data for her."

"Back up," Dan Heng says. "Fake people? And what do you mean almost dead?"

"Herta has models of a whole bunch of people we’ve met. They’re pretty accurate in fighting style. Makes things easier."

"And the dead part??" March asks.

"I’m not actually almost dead. I just would be if it weren’t a simulation. Pain receptors are dulled and all that. Makes it easier to get accurate data."

"Why on earth do you put yourself through this," March responds. "This sounds horrible!"

Stelle grins. "Free shit," she says flippantly.

"It’s not free if you’re working for her, Stelle," Dan Heng scolds. 

"Ah, whatever. Let’s get going!" Stelle summons her lance, swinging it around experimentally. She hits a nearby box and it catches on fire. "Faster we get through this, faster I can send you guys home."

Dan Heng and March immediately voice their objections, but Stelle is already running ahead to beat up a poor frog ingenium. March quickly seals over the nearby flaming box with ice, extinguishing it, and the two of them run after Stelle before she gets herself hurt.

It takes approximately four frog things and two exploding goldfish for Stelle to notice something is off.

She’s actually breathing heavily, for once, and the sting of tanking the ingenium’s explosion has not yet gone. Most importantly, she has cleared out the area (and checked multiple times), but there is not a trace of the usual rifts between areas.

A few feet away, waiting for her to finish running in circles, March is resting in an alley. Dan Heng is perched on a terrace above her, staring at nothing in particular. Stelle leans on her lance. The flames lick up her arms and (paradoxically) heal her burns. "Hey, Dan Heng," she asks, offhand. "See any starskiffs up there?"

Dan Heng squints at the horizon. "A few," he says. "Mostly congregated around Starskiff Haven, of course."

Stelle pauses. Turns towards him. "You can see Starskiff Haven from there?"

"Should I not be able to?"

"No," Stelle says, confused.

"Dan Heng has really sharp eyes," March says, "and even I would be able to see Starskiff Haven from here! I think. At least part of it, probably. It’s really big."

"You shouldn’t be able to see Starskiff Haven, because the render distance isn’t that good, " Stelle says. "Herta has the universe build a couple alleyways at a time and then uses well-placed walls and buildings to keep me from seeing out of bounds without specifically looking for it." She jumps up beside Dan Heng and stares in the direction he gestures to. Sure enough, instead of the floating void she's accustomed to when looking too close, before her stretches the Luofu in its entirety, starskiffs and all. "Oh, that's weird. "

"Let me see!" March complains, clambering up beside the two of them. "Oh, yeah, that is just the Luofu. Are you sure this isn't just another of Herta's updates? Maybe more brains means more computer power."

"Maybe," Stelle mutters. "Maybe we should just wait out the week." She slumps onto the banister and the three of them sit in silence.

"I’m hungry," March eventually complains. "Does Herta provide snacks?"

"...Food isn't usually a problem. Or ever. Not really. I don't get hungry here. Normally."

"Ugh, does this mean we have to scrounge things up ourselves? For a whole week? "

"Maybe if we starve enough, Herta will pull us out early." 

"No thank you!"

Dan Heng exhales sharply. "I believe we have landed in the actual Luofu."

"Frankly, I wouldn't put anything past Herta. She's scary," Stelle says into her arms.

Dan Heng makes an annoyed sound. "Look up. Both of you." He grips his right wrist.

Stelle looks up.

Standing in the street, staring straight at them, is a man with long, white hair. He wears all black, and there is a sword at his hip.

"Oh, that’s never happened before," Stelle mutters.

"Who the hell are you three?" the stranger calls up at them. "What are you doing here? This area’s infested!"

"Um." March says. "We come in peace?"

"March."

Chapter Text

"Explain," says the stranger, as the four of them are standing awkwardly on the road. Dan Heng would have preferred to stay on the balcony, but Stelle had jumped down immediately when asked and he didn’t quite feel like making up an excuse. He instead settles for standing inconspicuously behind March. Said man gestures for them to go on.

Dan Heng sits in silence. March lets out a little "hmm…" before Dan Heng elbows her in the side. “Ow! What was that for?”

Luckily, Stelle takes the hint. “Dropped my wallet," she says blankly.

“What?” 

Stelle doubles down, refusing to give in. “One of the frog things ate it,” she says, shaking her head. “I would have just let it go, but ugh, the paperwork…”

“So you chased it all the way into a barricaded area and proceeded to beat up every ingenium you could find,” the stranger says, staring at the battered machinery corpses all around them. “As well as a few dragonfish.”

“Seemed logical at the time.” Stelle is unphased. 

He groans. “You should all get going to the realm-keeping commission, then.”

Dan Heng grabs March’s arm. “Come on. Let’s go. We can figure this out later.” 

She perks up. “Oh! Do you have any food on you?”

“March,” Dan Heng complains.

“Dan Heng,” she says back, mocking his tone. “I didn’t eat this morning! I’m hungry!”

“Dan Heng?” the stranger mutters, taking another look. He frowns. 

Dan Heng walks faster. “Let’s go.”

March opens her mouth to complain, but Stelle slaps her hand across it. “Nope!”

The stranger puts his face in his hands. “You’re all horrible at this.”

“Is it that obvious?” Stelle asks, unrepentant.

“Mmf,” says March. 

“Yes, we know you don’t like lying, March. That’s what you have us for!”

The stranger stares at them. March is trying to shove Stelle off of her without being too obvious about it. Dan Heng is glaring at them both, looking like he wants to be anywhere else.

He makes a split second decision: dealing with idiot teenagers is not in either of his job descriptions.

"I'm taking you three back towards the realm-keeping commission," he announces. "Follow me. Or don't."

The three of them follow the stranger out of the artisanship commission. March, once freed, bugs him for his name. When he introduces himself as Yingxing, Stelle whips her head around to face Dan Heng. He glares at her. Nosy. 

March doesn’t react at all, of course. She doesn’t make a habit of prying into every bit of paper left around. She just keeps chattering at Yingxing about every unimportant thing that crosses her mind. “And then Asta told us we could keep the Wubbaboo if we really wanted,” she says, “but I thought it would be sad all on its own on the express! So we left it on the station. But it’s ok! Stelle comes with me to say hi all the time!” 

Dan Heng would be worried that March was giving away important secrets if Yingxing wasn’t so obviously zoned out.

When they finally reach their destination, March is describing (in excruciating detail) a specific kind of cheese she once had on a planet a few years ago, and Stelle is poking Dan Heng increasingly painfully in an attempt to get some kind of information. They make an odd group, and are getting more than a few stares from passersby. That might also just be due to who is leading them around, though. Yingxing unceremoniously stops near a starskiff station. “Here,” he announces, and then turns around to leave. “You can probably find your way to the commission.”

Stelle snatches March by the wrist. “Okay! Going!” she says, ignoring March’s yelp. In front of them, Dan Heng has pivoted away from Yingxing. 

Yingxing, seemingly relieved, promptly leaves in the other direction.

The three of them end up in a corner beside some vending machines. Stelle immediately gets to feeding one of them all the various coins and bits of credit she picked off the ground and out of various cracks on the way. 

“So, who’s he?” March asks, rubbing her wrist. “He seemed nice. Why’d you scare him off?”

“Proto-Blade,” Stelle answers absentmindedly. “You didn’t notice? He even has the same coat.” She thumps the vending machine.

“Proto- who?” March processes this for a moment. “I just thought that was a popular style!” 

“Well, I also snooped in Dan Heng’s files,” Stelle admits.

March then rounds on Dan Heng. “Don’t tell me you knew too! We were being led around by a wanted murderer and neither of you thought to let me know?”

“He’s not a wanted murderer yet,” Dan Heng says. “And of course I knew. Dan Feng eloped with him.” 

“Oh, okay, I did not need to know that,” March groans. “Why is he here? Did Herta’s weird curios fix him? No, but then he’d recognize us…”

“Other way around, March,” Stelle says, arm stuck halfway up the vending machine opening. “Ah. There we go!” She turns around and tosses March a dented can of mung bean soda. “Catch.”

March catches. “Oh, we got transported to him! That makes more sense.” She cracks open the soda as she says this. Predictably, it spills all over her fingers. She yelps.

Dan Heng rolls his eyes. “I would say it actually does not make more sense. Which is more likely to happen, time travel for one person or three?”

“Weirder things have happened to us,” March says, gesturing towards Stelle with her clean hand. 

“Oh, do you think we’ll get to cause any paradoxes?” The girl in question perks up. “Or fight Jingliu again? That was fun.”

“Why do you sound so excited about that? She almost stabbed us last time!” March complains.

“She did stab me,” Stelle corrects. “And who knows? She’s probably less stabby right now.”

“Madam Jingliu has always been ‘stabby’,” Dan Heng says. “Anyways. Plan?”

“Going to the realm-keeping commission like we said we would is a bad idea,” March decides. 

“We could find a place to wait out the week, and then sic Himeko on Herta for endangering us,” Stelle says. 

“But we don’t have enough money for an inn. Probably. Stelle, you didn’t actually drop your wallet, did you?”

“Nah, it’s right here.” Stelle shakes a black square. “Doubt Asta’s credit card still works, though. She very much has not been born yet.” 

“We can probably find some odd jobs to do,” Dan Heng says. “Ones where we won’t have to provide paperwork.” 

“Cool, so not too different from that time Himeko stranded us on a world that didn’t take IPC credits?” March says, frowning at her soda. “Stelle, do you want the rest of this? It’s…kind of awful."

Stelle snatches the can from March and takes a glug. “Sounds like a plan.”

Evening finds them with no easy money or inn rooms in sight. March flops on a bench. “Don’t tell me we’re going to have to sleep outside!”

“We could always get arrested and sleep in a nice, warm jail cell,” Stelle suggests.

“Jail sucks, though. Everyone always looks at me funny…”

“Let’s leave that as a last resort plan,” Dan Heng says. “Why don’t we go get food first? We should have enough cash for that at least.”

Stelle perks up. “Let’s go get street food!”

March grouses something about unhealthiness, but is eventually placated by some nice, hot meat skewers. Beside her, Dan Heng sits down morosely. “I really don’t want to be here,” he says. Stelle just drops onto the ground cross-legged.

“Aw, cheer up! It’s just a week.”

“Are we sure that we’ll actually be brought back after a week?” Stelle asks. “I mean, I trust Herta’s machines, to an extent. But it could be more or less than a week. Maybe we’ll be stuck here for a month. Or more.”

“Oh, goodness, I don’t want to think about that,” March says faintly.

“Then we would actually have to go to the realm-keeping commission,” Dan Heng says. 

“The trailblaze will take care of us,” March declares. “Probably.”

“You have a lot of faith in a dead Aeon,” Stelle says. 

March groans. “You know what, I don’t care anymore. I’m taking a nap.” She slumps against Dan Heng’s shoulder and almost immediately passes out. Dan Heng sighs, resigning himself to be a pillow for the next hour or three.

With the conversation over, Stelle shrugs and sets herself to picking at the remnants of some chicken wings. 

Maybe half an hour later, when the sun has entirely set and most of the pedestrians have dispersed, a yell comes directed at them. “Oi! Kids!”

March startles awake, nearly falling onto the ground before Dan Heng catches her. “Hey! Uncalled for!” 

Dan Heng drops her. March rolls onto the concrete and groans. “Not you.”

Stelle blinks at the approaching stranger. “What’s up?”

A Foxian walks up to them, grinning. “What’s up with you? Get kicked out for the night or something?” She has pale hair and a very fluffy jacket. Dan Heng takes one look at her and wants to put his head in his hands. 

He resists the urge. Baiheng was known for being perceptive. It was kind of an important part of her job, after all.

Stelle nods sagely. “Yes. T’was a tragedy,” she says, gearing up to bullshit another story off the top of her head. 

Baiheng beats her to it. “Want to stay over at my place?”

“...Lady, I hope you know that sounds incredibly sketchy,” Stelle says. “You a cannibal?”

Baiheng bursts out laughing. “You’re hilarious! No, I’m not a cannibal, though you’re welcome to call the knights on me if it makes you feel better.”

Stelle looks at March. March shrugs. “We’ve committed fully to worse ideas,” she admits. “And as comfortable as you are, sleeping outside sucks.” She pouts at Dan Heng. Hard.

“This is a bad idea,” he mutters, “for multiple reasons. But fine. She’s probably alright.”

“I appreciate the faith,” Baiheng says cheerfully. “Follow me, then! My girlfriend probably hasn’t cooked enough for five, but it looks like you three already ate anyway.” 

Stelle gets up and stretches. “Lead the way, not-a-cannibal.”

Chapter Text

“Here we are,” Baiheng says. 

They’ve stopped in front of a surprisingly unobtrusive home. Baiheng knocks lightly on the door, then smacks the knob on its underside. It pops open.

“...Don’t you have a key?” March ventures.

“Broken!” Baiheng says, far too cheerfully for one who has just publicly admitted that her front door cannot lock.

Dan Heng frowns. “Aren’t you worried about being robbed?”

“Eh, my girlfriend will scare any criminals off. And then hunt them down. She’s sweet like that. Speaking of,” she says, turning to the open doorway. “A-Liu! I brought guests home!”

“Why didn’t you tell me,” comes a cranky voice from the inside. “I just finished cooking!”

“She’s in a good mood,” Baiheng whispers. “Come on in!”

Stelle is the first to follow her inside, kicking off her shoes. Dan Heng winces when they fly off and hit the wall, but steps inside as well. 

The place seems lived in, and cosy. Exactly the kind of house someone like Baiheng would live in. From the far side of the room, in walks yet another unfortunately familiar woman. Dan Heng has to take an extra few seconds to process the sight of Madam Jingliu wearing oven mitts. Beside him, Stelle giggles in delight. He’s going to have to make sure she doesn’t try to start a fight at the dinner table.

“Dear,” the terrifying swordmaster oh my god says slowly. “Did you actually bother to check who you were bringing home?”

 “Oh, it’s fine!” Baiheng says. “This is, uh, hm. I never got your names. They’re probably alright, though!” 

Jingliu inhales. “So that’s a no.”

“I promise I know what I’m doing,” Baiheng says, clasping her hands in front of her. 

Jingliu gives up. “At least tell me what I can call you,” she says to the trio of teenagers.

March perks up, happy to introduce them. Once finished, Jingliu looks infinitely more tired. Dan Heng edges towards the door.

“Baiheng. Have you talked to your baby blacksmith at all today.”

“A little bit? I was busy,” Baiheng says. “Why?”

“These are the three he was complaining about incessantly.” Jingliu takes off her oven mitts and tosses them on the counter. “Come on, I guess. Wash your hands.” She gestures to the kitchen and walks off, grabbing Baiheng and dragging her along. They disappear into a side room and Baiheng shuts the door behind them.

Stelle pokes her head into the kitchen. It’s fairly small, with all the regular kitchen amenities. Enough for the two people who apparently live here, at least. There’s two barstools at the counter next to a steaming dish of food. Stelle turns on the kitchen sink, then nods at March and Dan Heng. March immediately presses her ear to the door. Stelle rinses her hands and follows her, Dan Heng taking her place at the sink. 

“...come on! They’re practically family!” Baiheng can just barely be heard in the other room. “I couldn’t just leave them to fend for themselves.”

“From what I know about your ‘family,’ they would have been perfectly fine,” Jingliu argues. “Isn’t this their job?”

“They’re kids, Jingliiu. Would you leave your baby cousins out in the cold?”

A heavy sigh comes through the door. “Your baby cousins are doing a bad job of eavesdropping on us.” 

March scrambles back from the door, but she’s too late. Frost creeps out from under the crack and freezes their feet to the floor. “No fair!” she says. “Ice is my thing.”

The door swings open to reveal an unimpressed Jingliu and a delighted Baiheng. “You three hear what you wanted?”

Stelle shrugs and crouches down to melt the ice with her hands. “Dunno what I wanted to hear in the first place.”

March snaps her fingers, pointing at Baiheng. “You know me!”

Baiheng giggles. “Nope, but close!”

March puts her fingers on her temples. “You can’t know Dan Heng, or Stelle…”

“You’re Nameless,” Dan Heng supplies. 

“You’re Nameless?” March whips her head around. “Wait, you knew!”

“Of course I knew. I thought you did as well.”

March looks at Stelle. Stelle shrugs back. “Don’t look at me. I was basically born yesterday.”

Jingliu kicks at the ice and it shatters. “I suppose you three are staying for a bit. I’m going to go eat now.” She walks past the four of them, grabbing the casserole dish (with her bare hands this time) and disappearing into what is presumably the dining room. 

Stelle finishes melting the ice and stares at the puddle around her feet. “Should I boil this off?”

“Jingliu will take care of it,” Baiheng says, before also heading to eat. “She made it. She deals with it.” 

March, now freed, bounces behind her. “Can I call you Auntie?”

The one notable thing about the dining room is the table. For a house with only two people in it, Stelle finds it odd that there are permanent places for at least six people. She briefly wonders how the two sit when they eat in here. Both in the corner? One at either end? It seems awfully lonely.

Jingliu and Baiheng end up sitting across from each other, with March by Baiheng’s side and Dan Heng next to her, as far away from Jingliu as possible. Stelle takes pity on him and sits next to Jingliu so it’s slightly less obvious. 

Baiheng happily doles out portions of potato-y something to everyone. The rest of them, however, end up sitting in awkward silence. 

“So…” March says once she gets her food. “Do you have any interesting stories, Auntie?”

Baiheng brightens up and immediately launches into a tale about some weird jungle with bright magenta bugs. March nods along and asks questions at just the right times, encouraging her to keep going. Stelle devours her portion and then steals bites across the table from Dan Heng’s until he gives up and slides her bowl to her.

Jingliu frowns at her. “I thought Baiheng said you ate already.”

“They’re young, Jingliu!” Baiheng reaches over to drop more food in Stelle’s bowl. “I know how much I was eating at their age!”

“I’m also basically a walking star-powered furnace,” Stelle supplies. “You can feed me coal if you want.”

“Do not feed her coal, she gets it everywhere.” Dan Heng glares straight ahead, refusing to look at Jingliu or Baiheng. 

“Anyways,” Jingliu clears her throat. “I assume you three will want to stay the night?” She glances at Baiheng.

“Guest room’s clean,” she says. “We also have a couch. But I’m assuming expedition rules still apply?”

March nods. “We’ll take the room, if that’s okay!”

Stelle drags Dan Heng and March into the guest room and shuts the door behind her. She quickly scans the area: there’s a queen-sized bed and nightstand in the far corner, with a seemingly empty chest of drawers and a desk on the opposite wall. The furniture is impersonal but well worn, and the curtains are surprisingly nice. She walks over to shut them and the little artificial light remaining is completely blocked out. 

March yelps and fumbles for the light switch, brightening the room again before dimming it halfway. “Warn a girl, please!” 

Stelle turns back towards the door. “See anything?” She doesn’t notice anything offhand, but March’s attention to detail means she’ll notice any surveillance or other oddities much quicker.

March blinks in the bright light and does a quick spin. “Nope. Dan Heng?”

Dan Heng shakes his head as well. 

“Cool. Floor time.” Stelle immediately proceeds to strip the bed and dump all the pillows and blankets on the ground. March helps her arrange them into a pile of sorts, then pushes Dan Heng into it. “Floor time,” she agrees.

Dan Heng lays face down and motionless until the girls join him in the pile, arranging him into a more comfortable position. He ends up slumped on March’s shoulder with Stelle curled up on his other side. The other two chat about nothing, lowering their normally boisterous voices to something more gentle.

After a few minutes, he mutters a soft thank you. March pats his head. “Feeling better?”

“I really don’t want to be here,” Dan Heng says, muffled into March’s shoulder. 

Stelle pokes him in the side. “We could just leave. Yoink a ship and run to the Blue or something.”

“Bad idea - our way back might still appear where we were dropped off. We should at least wait out the week.” 

“We could hide somewhere on the Luofu,” March suggests. “We don’t have to go far.”

“We are currently staying with two of the most influential people on this ship, we provoked a third this morning, and all three are incredibly close with my predecessor, who commands a good portion of the Xianzhou political power. I doubt we will be successful.”

“Ooh. Yeah. Forgot about that.”

Stelle pokes him again, several times in a row. “You’re thinking too much. Have a good cry then sleep on it. We’ll figure it out as we go.” 

March reaches for a pillow and hugs Dan Heng with it. “Stelle, can you get the lights?”

Stelle snatches the hair tie off of March’s wrist and aims it at the light switch. It bounces off ineffectively. She pouts and gets up to turn off the lights.

“We’ll deal with it in the morning,” March says. “We always do.”

Chapter Text

Baiheng's girlfriend likes to get up at the crack of dawn. This is, of course, because Jingliu – Sword Master of the Luofu and Spearhead of the High Cloud Quintet – is one hell of a gym rat. She'll leave the house hours before their artificial sunrise kicks in to jog halfway down the damned ship and back up again, or whatever she does when deciding to leave her poor girlfriend cold and alone in bed.

Baiheng pretends this bothers her way more than it actually does. She'll get apology cuddles from it later.

In the meantime, Baiheng enjoys her rare slow morning. Nothing important is due to be done today, so she indulges in some coffee and cake for breakfast. Jingliu isn't there to scold her about nutrition.

A thump from upstairs makes her nearly drop her mug.

Ah. She forgot about her guests.

Standing outside the guest room door, Baiheng does her best to listen in without being noticed.

Hey, they did it first.

When she hears nothing but muffled conversation, Baiheng knocks. The voices fall silent. And then the girl – March, she thinks – calls out. "Come in!"

Baiheng opens the door to an odd sight. All the bed coverings have been dumped on the floor. Dan Heng is curled up in the pile, scribbling into a notebook he has somehow produced. By the (open?) window, Stelle is leaning backwards in a chair with March by her head. As she watches, March ties off a section of Stelle's hair and snips through it with – wait, are those scissors on fire? 

“Morning, Auntie!” March says. “We’ll be done in a sec.”

"Good morning, you three. I heard a noise earlier. Everything okay?"

Stelle gestures towards the window. "Couldn't figure out how to open this. Got it eventually, though."

"...and the... unconventional haircut? I can take you to a hairdresser's, you know. Or a cheap barber shop."

Stelle turns her head to look Baiheng dead in the eyes, ignoring the annoyed noises from March. "Hair's haunted."

March pokes Stelle in the neck. "Stop moving! I thought you wanted this over with quickly."

"Fine, sorry." Stelle moves her head back to where it was before. "Real answer: I'm a guy today, my body is weird, and fucked up probably illegal scissors are the only way to cut my hair and get it to stick more than an hour. My name is currently Stel, but I don't particularly care if you get it wrong."

March finishes shearing off the rest of Stel’s hair in one large chunk, then hands the bundle to him. “All done!”

Stel’s hair does not look finished. In fact, it looks horribly uneven. Baiheng decides not to comment on this.

Stel himself rolls up his sleeves, grabs the chunk of grey hair, and holds it out the window. “Sorry, Qlipoth.” 

His hands burst into flames.

Baiheng’s jaw drops as the fireball consumes all the hair. When it dissipates, fine particles of ash float down into the flower bushes outside. Stel’s hands look entirely untouched, other than a few smudges of soot. He wipes them off on his skirt.

March slams down the window, then winces at the noise. “Sorry about that! Do you know somewhere we can eat? I’m famished.”

Baiheng shakes herself out of it. “There’s fruit downstairs. Jingliu usually brings something back from her morning runs, if you’re willing to wait.” 

March perks up and runs ahead of Baiheng out the door. 

Jingliu returns to find three people in her kitchen. “I got food. Plates are left of the sink – are those limes?” She drops a large paper carton on the counter.

March pops another of the strange, sour fruits in her mouth. Whole. “Is that what they’re called? Auntie Baiheng said I could have them.”

Baiheng looks between the two of them, bemused. “I… I don’t know. I gave them to her as a joke, and then she just kept? Eating them?”

“Was I…not supposed to? They’re not bad.” March shrugs. 

“...Come get some eggs, child. You’ll get heartburn.”

Stel perks up and immediately loads himself a heaping plate. Jingliu, predicting this, had gotten several times their usual amount. She then stares at Stel. “Your haircut is awful.”

“I know. Don’t bother,” he says around a mouthful of egg. March throws a napkin at him.

“It will  continue to be awful until it grows out.”

“So, like, tomorrow afternoon. Don’t worry about it.”

Jingliu squints at him. “That’s not how hair works.”

“It’s not hair. Probably. I dunno. It grows from the ends. Being magic star jail is weird.”

Jingliu gives up. “Where’s your friend? Still asleep?”

“Nah, he’s up,” Baiheng says, plating two more (smaller) servings of breakfast. She hands one to her girlfriend. “Last I checked, he’s doing…something on his phone.”

“Poking around the IPC servers,” March says “Trying to see if he can make our numbers valid here. He probably won’t be able to legitimately without raising a few eyebrows, so.”

“...you know I’m basically a cop, right?”

“Yeah, but you’re not a snitch, are you? Besides, we have the money. It’s just that. Um.”

“Rule sixteen, March,” Stel chimes in. “Or was it twenty-six? Some rule, probably. Stop talking.”

“Which rule? Oh! eighteen-four. That’s the one you’re thinking of. Whoops.”

“Yeah, eighteen-four. First try.”

Baiheng mouths the words “eighteen-four” to herself. “Why the hell would it be- wait.”

March looks at Stel. Stel looks at March. “Not our fault,” they decide simultaneously.

“Ohhhhh,” Baiheng says. “No wonder you’re so underprepared.”

March takes offense at this. “ Excuse me, I am very prepared! I just wasn’t expecting a trip.” 

“How far did you travel?”

March shrugs. Points at Stel.

Stel tilts his head. “You’d have to ask Dan Heng, he’s more familiar with this place. None of the random letters and tax forms I stole had exact dates.”

“Alright, would someone please fill me in?” Jingliu interrupts. “Why are we stealing tax forms. What is an eighteen-four.”

Stel and March look at Baiheng pleadingly. 

Baiheng shrugs. “Sorry, A-Liu. I’m obligated to cover for them. Nameless pact.” She pauses. “Wait, does it even apply here? You should be fine, right?”

Stel points up the stairs to where Dan Heng is finally joining them. “Ask him.”

Dan Heng frowns as he comes down the stairs. “Ask me what?”

Baiheng stares at Dan Heng. Several emotions cross her face before she finally settles on slight panic. Making a decision, she gets up and starts to gently shove Jingliu into the living room. “Sorry, love! Secret discussion time!” She shuts the connecting door securely between them, leaving a befuddled Jingliu alone with her breakfast. 

“...what?”

By the time the harsh whispers coming from the kitchen let up, the remainder of Jingliu’s eggs have gone cold. She perches on one side of the couch and glares at the cheap coffee table. Baiheng has a lot of explaining to do.

She hears another muffled thump from the kitchen. If she strains, she can almost make out words. She tries not to. Hopefully Baiheng hasn’t gotten herself into something too illegal.  

When the door to the kitchen finally opens, Jingliu takes a breath and turns around, preparing to interrogate her girlfriend. 

The words die on her tongue when she sees what’s in front of her.

Baiheng is holding a Vidyadhara up off the ground by the back of his shirt. “Hi! Please don’t be mad.” The other two kids are peeking out from around her.

The green one, now with horns and a tail, frowns slightly at Baiheng. “Put me down.”

“Alright, what the hell.” Jingliu crosses her arms. “Why is your kid an Imbibitor Lunae clone.”

The pink one grins. “Because he’s his brother! Basically. Kind of. Not really?”

“I don’t think that’s right, March,” the grey one says, “But I don’t think that’s wrong, either?”

“Time travel,” Baiheng says, like that explains everything.

Jingliu puts her face in her hands.

Chapter Text

“If the timeline were going to implode,” Dan Heng says, “it would have done so already, when we inadvertently diverted Yingxing from the bay incident.” He paces around the room, horns and tail now gone.

“The what now?” Baiheng asks.

“Unimportant. It will never exist here. There’s also the possibility that this world will cease to exist anyways but that’s unpleasant to think about for everyone involved and I doubt we’d be able to do anything about that, so I’m also filing that as irrelevant.”

“Sorry, cease to exist?” Jingliu, breakfast entirely forgotten, looks uncharacteristically stressed. 

Baiheng, more used to this particular flavour of bullshit, shrugs it off. “Like he said, can’t really do anything about a cataclysm. So it’s not worth worrying about. Better to just assume it won’t happen.”

“So, what’s the plan?” March asks. She and Stel have taken one side of the couch - March perched on the armrest while Stel sits upside down, head hanging off the edge and legs dangling over the back. 

“ We were going to just wait out the week without attracting any important attention, but that plan is…dead and buried.” Dan Heng gestures to the two war celebrities in the room.

“Could still do it,” Stel says. “Squat in Auntie’s spare room for a week. We can pay her back with information or something.”

“ Absolutely not,” Jingliu says. “I’m not harboring illegal fugitives. Don’t give me that look, your paperwork is negative centuries out of date , no matter how legitimate it actually is. And you are a very suspicious Vidyadhara. Especially with that tail of yours. Do you know how much trouble we would be in? I have no clue why Baiheng is willing to risk so much for you three.”

Baiheng perks up. “Oh, speaking of paperwork! A-Feng still owes me from game night.”

“How is this relevant?”

“He should have ideas, at least. And plenty of sway! High elder and all that.”

Dan Heng turns around and hits his forehead onto the wall. “No. Absolutely not. We’re leaving him out of this.”

“Why not?” Baiheng frowns. “He is the expert on many of these matters. Neither of us know anything about Vidyadhara. He is likely to listen to us. It’s not like he has to report to anyone higher up.”

“I would rather jump off the side of the Luofu and take a nap next to the hyperdrive engines.”

Stel rolls sideways off the couch, landing on the floor with a thump. He stares at Dan Heng around the side. “Coward. C’mon. Therapy speedrun.” He points one arm at the Vidyadhara and squints.

March kicks him. “You’ve been spending too much time in Penacony.”

“Fine, fine.” Baiheng grabs a notebook from the coffee table, slipping out a pen from the inside cover. “We’ll do this the boring way. Babe, please leave the room for plausible deniability.”

“Really, Baiheng?”

“Oh, come on! If you ask questions, the deniability isn’t very plausible, is it? Now shoo!”

Once Jingliu has given up and left to go shower, Baiheng turns to the three trailblazers. “Name and approximate age?”

“Just put down Dan Heng,” Dan Heng says, still facing the wall. “Age… Are we supposed to be long or short life?”

“Whichever is more comfortable for you,” Baiheng says. “You three are going to stick out as it is. I’ll try to pull something together for now, since you hope to be gone in a week anyways.

“Somewhere in the 30s then.”

“And you two?”

“Hmmm…… Marceline! And, uh...at least three years? Heh…”

Stel pokes March. “Either of you have a coin?”

“Heads,” Dan Heng says immediately.

“Cool. List me as Stelle. Technically I’m eight months old, but you probably want to write something else.”

Eight months, Baiheng mouths to herself. “Ohhhhkay! Scratch my last point. You’re all one hundred and twenty.”

“Damn,” Stel says. “I think I’m older than Uncle Welt now.”

March kicks him yet again . He groans, rolling face down on the carpet.

Baiheng points at Dan Heng with the pen. “You! Do you want me to try to list you as a Vidyadhara?”

“Their record keeping is far too tight. Besides, do you want to explain to the Preceptors how a second High Elder appeared out of nowhere?”

Baiheng stills. “Is that why you’re so insistent on avoiding him?”

“Didn’t we explain this already? I thought we explained this already,” Stel says, muffled into the floor.”

“So! Future crash course. Dan Feng does several dumb things in succession and dies relatively prematurely. He gets, uh, re-hatched? Re-born? Into Dan Heng. Who is kind of High Elder Lite. There’s also a mini you involved but I never really figured out why and they’re all secretive about it.”

“That’s a terrible way of explaining it, March.”

“Do you want me to go into more detail?”

“Don’t you dare.”

Baiheng shuts the notebook. “...That explanation is way more confusing. You should have just left it at succession bullshit.”

“Unfortunately, some Vidyadhara will be able to tell that my situation is… odd. I would prefer to leave the Luofu entirely, but that’s not an option.” Dan Heng resumes his pacing.

“Right. Well, I don’t mind you staying here, but Jingliu might get antsy harboring three plausible criminals.”

Stel rolls over again, bumping into the coffee table. “Is- ow! Is Fyxestroll Garden in good shape right now? I know of a few cozy hiding spots that existed in the future.”

“We are not spending our nights outside in the haunted possession ghost cemetary, Stel,” March frowns. “What if it rains? I don’t want to be possessed, either.”

“I can say from extensive experience that being possessed really isn’t that bad.”

Dan Heng shakes his head. “It’s still a somewhat public area. We’d get caught. Either by people hiking or by the Ten Lords commission.”

“Right,” Baiheng interrupts. “I’m not letting you three sleep outside. I have some pride as a Nameless.”

“As much as I hate it, we’ve done outside before,” March says. “Stel here is a portable space heater.” She reaches down and grabs Stel’s arm, presenting it for inspection.

Baiheng shakes her head. “Nope! I refuse. You three will get full meals and a roof over your head.”

“Oh, okay.” March drops the arm. It cracks against the wood of the coffee table.

Baiheng sighs, sitting forward and taking a more serious tone. “We have a few options here. One: I can try to convince Jingliu to let you stay, but she’ll get very pouty and I don’t want to do that.”

“Jingliu…. Pouty?” Stel marvels at the mental image.

“Two: I could check you into a hotel and pass you off as tourists. I doubt that will last a full week given the Nameless tendency towards… adventures, but it might do for a few days.” Baiheng taps the table. “As for our best option. Yingxing’s workshop has an empty apartment on the second floor. I can absolutely bully him into babysitting you three for the rest of the week.”

“Absolutely not,” Dan Heng says immediately.

“Why not? You’ve met him already. He sent grumbly text messages to A-Liu for hours. That means he likes you.”

“He also chased me down and tried to kill me for decades.”

Baiheng blinks. “Decades? How soon does — nevermind. I shouldn’t ask. But this Yingxing won’t kill you, so it should be fine, no?”

Dan Heng glares sullenly at Baiheng.

Stel raises his hand. “If I can get along with mom, you can get along with proto-Blade.”

“Your mom actually cares about you,” Dan Heng points out.

“Yeah, but Blade had more of an insanity debuff. He was doing pretty well all things considered.”

March pouts at Dan Heng. “Please? It’s better than the ghost cemetary…”

“This won’t end well.”

“It never does! At least we’ll have a roof over our head!” March puts on her best puppy eyes.

Dan Heng frowns back. The two stare at each other until Baiheng interrupts with a cough.

“I messaged Yingxing and he said he’s fine with it. We’re heading over in an hour.”

March cheers. “Thank you, Auntie!” She springs up from the couch and bolts upstairs towards the guest room.

“Babe! We’re done with the secrets!” Baiheng yells across the house.

Jingliu appears from the kitchen, looking frazzled and covered in flour. “I hope you’re not about to tell me we’re keeping them.”

“Nope! Well, Yingxing is keeping them, which is kind of the same thing. Hopefully it’s temporary. Time travel is always weird.”

Jingliu sighs. “You were taking too long. There are scones in the oven. You can bring some with you as a peace offering.”

“Aw, I love you too!” Baiheng walks over to give her a hug, immediately covering herself in flour as well.

March bounces back down the stairs, carrying the few things they had left in the guest room. “I think that’s everything! Do you need me to clean up, Auntie?”

“Nah, I’ll get it. Go comfort your boyfriend. He hasn’t stopped pouting.”

Approximately an hour and a half later, Baiheng knocks on the workshop door. Behind her, March is holding a container full of scones. Dan Heng is sulking (for him, anyways), and Stel is patting him on the back.

Yingxing opens the door and assesses their little group. “I suppose you never made it to the realm-keeping commission.”

March offers the scones like she was instructed. “Sorry?”

“Jingliu made these?” Yingxing eyes the scones with suspicion.

“You know I’m still not allowed near the oven,” Baiheng sighs, “And Jingliu refuses to let me buy baked goods premade. So yes.”

“Good. Come in.” Yingxing lifts the container out of March’s arms and opens the door wider. “Stairs are on the right. That’s where you’re staying. I’m sure you can sort yourselves out. Forge is through here. You can look around, but don’t touch anything.”

The inside of the workshop is extremely cluttered. Half finished projects and notes are piled all over, on shelves and on the floor. There’s an open arch at the end of the room leading to the forge, and Stel immediately busies himself poking around, gawking at the twisted bits of metal and reading through every slip of paper he can see.

“That’s a grocery list,” Yingxing says, unimpressed.

“Thank you for hosting us,” Dan Heng says politely.

Yingxing grumbles under his breath, then walks off with the scones. “Hey! Baiheng brought scones. You want some?”

“Who is he…” Baiheng mutters. “Oh. Oops.”

Dan Heng turns around and makes to walk out of the building, but he’s too late. A very, very familiar face appears from the forge room.

The High Elder’s eyes narrow. “Yingxing. Explain.”