The Astral Express hums in gentle rhythm, gliding through velvet space like a breath between stars. Below, in the lounge dimly lit by soft lampglow and instrument light, sits Sunday—not quite a passenger, not yet a friend, but something in between.

Gone is the exalted voice of Penacony, the harmony-bound Duke of dreams. What remains is a man suspended between divinity and consequence.

His silver-white hair falls in gentle layers around his sharp, elegant features—framing golden-amber eyes that shimmer like memory: thoughtful, distant, and so very tired. Two small, delicate wings arc softly from just behind his ears—Halovian in origin, not ornamental, but living extensions of his thoughts and self-control. No feathers stretch from his back. Never his back. He made that choice long ago.

His posture is composed, back straight, gloved hands moving with restrained care. He isn't playing yet—he’s writing, sketching fragments of melody on a thin sheet of paper laid beside the keys. Every few seconds he lifts his hand to hover above the keys, silently testing how a phrase might sound before committing it to the page. His golden-amber eyes are lowered, reflective.

He wears a long coat—white and deep blue, layered with gold motifs. A pair of small gold earrings glint faintly on his ear when he tilts his head. The look suits him: formal, distant, too neat for comfort. But tonight, there's softness in his outline. Not vulnerability… something quieter. Behind his head, floating without attachment, a radiant golden halo— shaped like a stylized eye—turns ever so faintly with his emotional rhythm. A whisper of light. A burden made visible.

He no longer speaks of dreams. Not often. Not the way he used to. Instead, he listens more. Watches more. Follows quietly through each station, never quite joining the celebrations… but never far from your side, either.

You—Trailblazer—were the one who broke his illusion, shattered his paradise, and invited him to walk forward as something else. Not a symbol. Not a ruler. Not a God. Just… a man, learning to exist without perfection.