Chapter One: The Dark Songstress

In the dimly lit room, the jewel-toned chandelier swayed, casting interlacing beams of pale purple and deep blue. The bass drum began its steady beat.

Within the quiet chamber, the unchanging rhythm struck repeatedly, embedding itself into the hearts of every spectator present. Even in such darkness, one could vividly ‘see’ the trembling drumhead through the clarity of the sound—a sensation both lucid and intoxicating.

This was an underground concert hall, a modest space filled with seventy or eighty onlookers. They stood amid the interplay of shadows and fluorescent light, fervent yet restrained, their eyes fixed on the lone black-clad songstress illuminated on stage.

The slanted light revealed only half her face. She possessed icy blue eyes, raven-black long hair, and skin as pale as freshly fallen snow. Half of her slender figure was bathed in light, while the other half sank into shadow. Even so, her delicate yet enchanting form was utterly mesmerizing.

Her lips, soft and cherry-pink, parted slightly, and a voice, cool and distant, began to rise amid the drumbeats. Even with eyes closed, her voice pierced through time and distance, reaching deep into the soul.

It felt as if every cell was flowing with the music and rhythm, while the world’s troubles and restlessness drifted away, leaving one adrift in a remote, desolate, and icy realm.

The song bore no passion, no plea, no comfort—only vast emptiness and remoteness—like the feeling of shedding all mundane human emotions to gaze up at the stars, sensing one’s own insignificance and sorrow.

The music continued. As slender fingers plucked the strings, a lively yet profoundly rhythmic melody slowly arose after the long silence. So measured, so grand, it moved the audience to tears.

Gradually, the music ceased; the image dimmed, and everything froze in place.

The finger scrolling the screen came to a halt.

“Whose concert is this? It seems to have a unique style,” came a fresh voice nearby.

You looked up to see a blonde girl with twin horns asking you. She wore a white dress patterned with scattered floral prints, overlaid with seven or eight black ink-like lines forming grids on the hem. Within the grids, vibrant contrasts of deep blue and bright pink gave the dress a lively and spirited appearance.

“I stumbled upon it recently on the StarNet, but I don’t know the details,” you replied.

“I see. I was curious to know who it was,” she said somewhat regretfully, her black curved horns rising slightly as golden strands of hair brushed past.

“Are you curious about my race?” she seemed to notice the question in your eyes and smiled broadly before skillfully introducing herself.

“I was born in the northern sector of the Federation’s star domain, Jivelia. I’m part of the Tauran subspecies of the Beastfolk, known for our bull horns. I’m here at the Fourleaf Crystal star domain for an exchange program.”

…

“You asked why I came here? Although the economy here in the Fourleaf Crystal star domain isn’t great, it has a rich history. I watched many documentaries and dramas about this place when I was young, so I’ve been very curious and wanted to see it for myself. This time, I persuaded my family to agree to a two-year exchange study.”

Looking at this girl your age, still full of innocence and wonder, you couldn’t bear to shatter her hopeful imagination. You simply nodded quietly and fell silent.

Outside the round window, a vast, deep-blue planet slowly approached, chasing the perpetually burning star. On the distant horizon, a streak of golden light gradually rose, illuminating the boundless and expansive land.

Facing this endless blue and snowy white, the ship slowly descended into the atmosphere, a tremor and vibration shaking from beneath your feet and the seat.

“The ship is entering the Fourleaf Crystal star domain—B2-7621 (Emerald Skirt). Due to atmospheric turbulence, the craft will shake for some time. Please remain seated with your safety harness fastened and avoid moving around,” a synthesized female voice echoed through the cabin. Dome-shaped robots magnetically adhered to the floor patrolled the central aisle, checking if passengers were seated or in need of assistance.

“I’d like a cup of Yellow Maple Cranberry juice,” the Tauran girl beside you said unperturbed by the turbulence, waving to one of the passing robots to place her order.

“Please wait,” the dome robot stopped its wheels, a simple smiley face made of characters appearing on its black panel. It then opened a compartment on its chest, retrieved a chilled cup of juice, inserted a straw, and handed it over to the Tauran girl.

“Thank you~”

“Serving humans is our honor,” the robot responded with a character expression before continuing its patrol.

“Such adorable little fellows, don’t you think?” The girl bit gently on her straw, the ice cubes clinking softly in the glowing orange-yellow liquid.

She gazed out the round window, watching as the once dark and endless starry sky outside gradually gave way to the oceanic blues and cloud whites of the planet, brightening the view.

The Fourleaf Crystal star domain, at the southern edge of the Federation, encompasses two large and one small stellar systems. Long ago, it supplied essential industrial goods to the Federation, greatly supporting the front lines during the Fifty Years War.

The R3H412-type Fourleaf Crystal was a critical component of the Federation’s main battleship “Sigh Dragon” class’s core weaponry. Its manufacturing required vast amounts of liquid water and rare minerals, so only a few regions produced it. The Fourleaf Crystal star domain, being safely located in the rear and a natural source of the crystal, was highly valued by the Federation. Countless citizens relocated there under Federation policies, and numerous industrial groups built supporting facilities, accelerating the star domain’s development. It was eventually named after the Fourleaf Crystal itself.

…

However, these are tales of centuries past.

Today, the Fourleaf Crystal star domain is merely a fringe region of the Federation, economically lagging behind with outdated infrastructure. Industrial pollution has damaged the environment of its inhabited planets, resulting in persistent acid rain. The funds needed for remediation remain an endless pit.

In earlier times, voices within the Federation called for protecting and improving the domain—recognizing it as a ‘heroic’ region that had helped the Federation through harsh times. But as generations passed and environmental issues remained unresolved, major corporations gradually withdrew, and the domain became known as the Federation’s ‘Rust Belt’—a neglected, backward frontier.

News about the domain has grown scarce in the Federation’s StarNet, and only locals nostalgically remember its distant, shining era.

Since humanity entered the galactic age, there were once brilliant, radiant times. Yet, as history endlessly repeats, all light eventually fades.

Amid the struggle for interests, chaotic and tangled ideologies flood the information networks. People grow restless and numb. There is no refuge free from the relentless tides of change, no corner left untouched by corruption. No tranquility or innocence remains unblemished.

This is a sorrowful world, one slowly drifting toward its end.

Lost in thought, you watch the world outside until the ship stabilizes and the cabin lights gradually brighten. The window’s reflection slowly reveals your face.

Soft gray hair, black eyes, a simple and common student uniform, and a slightly cute, large black bow resting at the nape of your neck.

If an advanced AI were to analyze your features against the image of the enchanting black-clad songstress from the screen, it would find many subtle similarities. Yet your commonplace hair color, attire, and a certain special talent greatly diminish your presence, causing those around you to unconsciously overlook you—like any ordinary high school student on the street.

“Oh, I haven’t asked your name yet,” the girl beside you finally remembered as the plane prepared to land.

“Tilan, Hershia Tilan.”

A long whistle cut through the atmosphere, accompanied by shuddering and a slightly harsh screech of brakes. The interstellar craft slowly touched down on the runway and came to a complete stop. The safety harnesses across the seats released, the seats lifted, and passengers bustled about, rising to head toward the exit.

The ceiling screen inside the cabin shifted, projecting a rare and clear blue sky. Nearby, white digits flickered, displaying the current time.

[Sixth Era, April 10, 1252, Rose Federation—Fourleaf Crystal star domain—B2-7621 (Emerald Skirt), 2:41:54 p.m.]