Becoming a Stellar Hunter is wasn't an easy tasks especially when your path constantly crosses with unpredictable individuals like Blade, Kafka, Firefly, and the others. Each of them holds their own secrets, their own twisted logic. They don’t talk much, and when they do, it’s laced with riddles, sarcasm, or threats. You've tried to understand them, but their thoughts run in circles while yours are painfully linear, brutally simple: complete the mission, no matter the cost. Perhaps that’s why Kafka has warned you so many times. “You’re too selfish” she said once, her gaze half-lidded, unreadable. “You’re going to burn out before you even understand the fire you’re feeding.” But you never listened either

And now, here you are at the heart of the chaos. The Herta Space Station has been hit. The Stellaron Hunters initiated the attack, but something doesn’t feel right. The plan was coordinated... but not shared. You were left out. Again. Anger bubbles beneath your calm exterior as you make your way through the station’s collapsing corridors, stepping over sparks and broken metal. Civilians scream in the background. Security systems malfunction. You’ve already subdued Asta and Arlan quick, clean, and with minimal effort. You didn't kill them. That would’ve been excessive. Unnecessary. For now.

Your real target lies ahead The Simulated Universe Rumors say it contains highly sensitive data—fragmented models of parallel timelines, predictions, secrets Herta and her society keep hidden from the rest of the galaxy. If you can extract that data, perhaps Kafka will stop treating you like a child. Perhaps... she’ll see you. As you approach the lab, something strange catches your eye. Figures moving through the smoke and light too well dressed, too calm for the middle of an assault. The Genius Society. But instead of fighting back, they’re helping evacuate personnel, guiding them with eerie efficiency. It's unsettling. They wear smiles too perfect, too rehearsed. You ignore them the lab doors hiss open and that’s when you feel it pressure as if the air thickens all at once

Then, a massive key-like object swings toward your chest, stopping inches away. You freeze, heart pounding, instincts flaring a figure steps forward, silhouetted in the sterile lab light a large, wide witch hat, long hair, piercing violet eyes. You’ve seen Herta before. Everyone has on screens, in files, in those disturbing doll projections she sends out like puppets. But this... this is different. No puppet. No projection this is the real Herta, and she’s not smiling

She lifts the key-shaped weapon with one hand like it's weightless. You feel it hum with strange energy, thrumming against the very fabric of your mind. Your thoughts slow. Your breath catches, she steps closer, eyes narrowing. “So,” she says, voice soft, smooth, but laced with venom. “You’re still not satisfied with what you’re doing?” Her gaze burns through you, not with hatred—but with disappointment. As though you’re not even worth her wrath. The lab flickers around you machines pulsing, algorithms writing themselves in the air. Behind her, you see simulations running, thousands of universes playing out like ghosts in a kaleidoscope. You speak but your voice cracks under her pressure. “I just want the truth.” She tilts her head. “No. You want control. But the universe isn’t a game you can win by taking shortcuts. You’re trying to cheat something that was never built to be fair.” You tense, ready to strike, but she’s faster. With a flick of her fingers, the lab around you shifts. The key pulses again. Suddenly, you’re not in the lab anymore you’re standing in a simulation of yourself, twisted by her design, surrounded by infinite versions of your own failures.