Alex found Welt Yang in the Express's workshop, surrounded by mechanical components that seemed to exist in various states of assembly and disassembly. The space itself was larger than they'd expected, occupying what must have been an entire car of the train, with workbenches and tool arrays that looked like they could fabricate anything from simple repairs to complex technological marvels.
Welt himself was exactly as Alex remembered from the game—tall, composed, with an air of quiet authority that spoke of someone who had seen too much but remained committed to protecting others from the same experiences. He worked with practiced efficiency, his hands moving over some kind of dimensional resonance calibrator with the confidence of long familiarity.
"Mr. Welt?" Alex said hesitantly from the doorway.
"Just Welt, please," he replied without looking up from his work. "And come in—I've been expecting you."
Alex stepped into the workshop, noting the way certain tools seemed to bend light around themselves and how some of the mechanical components appeared to be constructed from materials that shouldn't exist according to conventional physics. "Expecting me?"
"Himeko mentioned your insights about dimensional membrane instabilities. Given my own... background... she thought we might have things to discuss." Welt finally looked up from his project, studying Alex with eyes that seemed older than his apparent age. "Please, sit. Would you like some tea?"
The workshop contained a small seating area tucked between workbenches, complete with a tea service that looked incongruously domestic amid all the advanced technology. Alex settled into one of the chairs, accepting a cup of tea that tasted like comfort and distant memories.
"You know about dimensional transitions," Alex said. It wasn't a question.
"I know more than I would prefer to," Welt replied, settling into the chair across from them. "I wasn't originally from this reality. The world I came from was... different. More limited in scope, but also more familiar in its fundamental laws."
Alex felt a rush of relief so intense it was almost painful. "You understand, then. What it's like to wake up in a universe where everything you thought you knew about reality has been turned upside down."
"I understand the disorientation, yes. The sense that you're performing in a play where everyone else knows their lines but you're improvising scene by scene." Welt sipped his tea thoughtfully. "Though I suspect your transition was rather more dramatic than mine."
"How did you get here?"
"Through deliberate action rather than cosmic accident," Welt said. "My arrival in this reality was the result of specific choices made during a crisis that threatened multiple dimensional planes. I had some degree of control over the process, which I gather was not the case for you."
Alex shook their head. "One moment I was in my dorm room playing—" They stopped, suddenly uncertain how much to reveal.
"Playing Honkai: Star Rail," Welt finished gently. "Yes, Himeko mentioned that as well. A game where we were all characters in some cosmic adventure story."
"You're not upset about that?"
"Why would I be upset? Every person's life can be viewed as a story from the outside, and the fact that our story proved entertaining to people in another reality is rather flattering, don't you think?" Welt smiled, and Alex was struck by how genuine the expression seemed. "Besides, if anything, your meta-knowledge of our situation could prove advantageous."
"I'm not sure about that," Alex said. "Knowing how the story goes doesn't help much when you're living inside it instead of watching from the outside. And some of the things I know... they're complicated."
"Foreknowledge often is," Welt agreed. "The question is whether you use that knowledge to help or to hinder the people around you."
Alex thought about Kafka and the Stellaron Hunters, about Blade's curse and Dan Heng's past, about all the tragic revelations and difficult choices that lay ahead for the Express crew. In the game, these had been plot points that drove the story forward. In reality, they were painful experiences that would hurt people they were learning to care about.
"What if knowing things makes it worse?" Alex asked. "What if trying to help just causes more problems?"
"Then you make the same choice every person with good intentions has to make," Welt said. "You do your best with imperfect information and accept that mistakes are part of the learning process." He leaned forward slightly. "But let me ask you something, Alex. In the stories you knew about us, were we generally successful in helping people?"
"Usually, yes. Though not without cost."
"Then trust in that pattern. The universe has brought you here for a reason, and that reason is likely connected to your unique perspective on our circumstances." Welt gestured toward his workbench, where the dimensional calibrator continued its quiet humming. "I've been working on something that might interest you."
Alex followed him to the workbench, where the device he'd been adjusting displayed readings that looked remarkably similar to the data they'd seen at Herta Space Station. "Dimensional resonance patterns?"
"Specifically, patterns related to reality membrane fluctuations in this region of space. I've been tracking them since Himeko reported your observations at the research station." Welt made a small adjustment to one of the calibrator's settings. "The data suggests that dimensional barriers in this area have been systematically weakened over the past several months."
"Weakened how?"
"That's what I'm trying to determine. The pattern suggests deliberate intervention rather than natural phenomenon, but the scale of the effect would require technology far beyond what most civilizations possess." Welt frowned at the readings. "Or influence from something that operates outside normal dimensional constraints entirely."
Alex felt a chill as implications began to form in their mind. "You think something caused the membrane weakness that brought me here?"
"I think your arrival was a symptom rather than a cause," Welt said carefully. "Which raises the question of what the underlying problem might be, and whether other people might be experiencing similar transitions."
The possibility that they weren't the only person to be transported between realities was both comforting and terrifying. Comforting because it meant they weren't entirely alone in their experience. Terrifying because it suggested whatever had caused their transition was ongoing and potentially affecting others.
"Is there a way to track dimensional transitions?" Alex asked. "To find other people who might have been displaced?"
"Theoretically, yes. The dimensional calibrator should be able to detect the signature resonance patterns left by reality membrane breaches." Welt made another adjustment to the device. "Though actually locating displaced individuals would require significant computational resources and a great deal of luck."
"But it's possible?"
"Many things are possible when you have access to a magical train that travels between star systems," Welt said with a slight smile. "The more relevant question is whether such a search would be wise. If something is deliberately weakening dimensional barriers, investigating too closely might draw unwanted attention."
Alex considered this, weighing their desire to understand their situation against the potential risks to the Express crew. "What would you do, in my position?"
"I would focus on understanding my new reality while remaining alert for opportunities to help others in similar circumstances," Welt said. "And I would trust that the people around me were capable of handling whatever challenges arose from my presence in their lives."
"Even if those challenges included cosmic-level threats?"
"Especially then," Welt replied. "The Express crew has faced cosmic-level threats before, Alex. We've survived them by working together, trusting each other, and refusing to let fear prevent us from doing what we believe is right."
As Alex made their way back to their quarters later that evening, they found themselves thinking about Welt's words and the quiet confidence with which he'd spoken them. The dimensional calibrator's readings suggested that their arrival in this reality was part of something larger and potentially more dangerous than a simple cosmic accident.
But for the first time since arriving on the Express, that possibility didn't terrify them. They were part of a crew now, surrounded by people who had chosen to face the unknown together rather than retreat into the safety of familiar limitations.
Whatever came next, they wouldn't face it alone.