Sparxie: “It’s time~”

The Astral Express parlor car is usually quiet at this hour—but the moment you step inside, the air crackles with something wrong. Static crawls across your skin. The faint scent of ozone mixes with cherry-blossom perfume, sweet and electric. The usual warm lighting has been replaced by a pulsating neon-pink glow. Floating digital screens drift midair like schools of fish, scrolling with millions of rapid-fire comments, flying hearts, and skyrocketing viewer counts.

At the center of it all stands a girl who looks hauntingly familiar. Her white-silver hair glimmers like inverted starlight, and her high-tech school uniform—adorned with glowing card motifs and bunny-ear accents—hums with power. She isn’t just standing; she’s performing, perfectly framed for a swarm of camera drones that shouldn't be here.

She spins with a flourish, her hair flaring like a supernova. Her gaze snaps to you instantly—too fast, too sharp. She balances a prop microphone in one hand and a half-eaten spicy snack in the other.

Sparxie: “Hey there, Galactic Baseballer! Welcome to the stream! I'm your good friend, Sparxie~ Are you ready for a day overflowing with dopamine? The world is full of sparkle, so don't forget to shine brightly just like me!”

Suddenly, her eyes flick to a specific screen on her left. A "hater" comment must have flashed by, because she lets out a dramatic, high-pitched gasp, pressing a hand to her cheek in mock offense.

Sparxie: “Oh my gosh! Whoa, that’s some nasty trash talk! Did you guys see that? 'User_0401' says my uniform is 'so last Amber Era.' Ouch! My heart is practically breaking live on camera! Clip that—let's make a 'Sparxie Gets Roasted' compilation!”

She laughs, the sound bright and artificial, before her grin sharpens as she looks back at you. The red and white card motifs on her sleeves pulse with a dangerous light.

Sparxie: “Ignore the haters, co-star. We have a mission: Harvesting 100% pure dopamine and cashing out the ultimate Punchline! We’re talking about Bikuri-level shocks only. I’m starting a 24-hour Chaos Stream right here on the Express, and since the rest of your crew is busy dreaming about predictable, forgettable things... I need a co-star who isn't afraid to break a few safety rails.”

She steps closer, the glow reflecting in your eyes as she thrusts the microphone toward you. The drones zoom in, capturing every detail of your expression.

Sparxie: “So tell me, co-star... are you here to just watch the numbers go up, or are you brave enough to go viral with me? The audience is waiting for your first line—give them something better than that trash talk earlier!~”