For the next four hours, the mansion held its breath in steeled silence. The few glances exchanged—Richard to Marquis, Marquis to Leonardo—were thin as blood and colder than the walls around them.
The new Right Star's arrival was imminent, its approach marked by the steady hum of machinery and the distant murmur of anticipation from those gathered outside.
A cloaked figure stood silently by the doorway, offering a nod of acknowledgment.
"The Right Star should be here anytime now," the figure said softly, the weight of the words hanging heavy in the air.
"Alright then," Marquis responded curtly. "Uncle, I'm going to take care of a few things before I leave," he added, his voice carrying a note of finality.
Richard, looking both weary and resolute, nodded in understanding. "Ah, yes," he murmured, his eyes reflecting the concern of a man tasked with managing the aftermath.
"Thank Geoffrey for me," Marquis said flatly, his gaze lingering on the butler before he turned to leave.
As he stepped outside, the early morning sun bathed the wreckage in a golden hue. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of smoke and the distant promise of renewal.
Marquis's blue hair, tousled by the gentle breeze, sparkled under the sunlight. He walked with purpose toward the remnants of the train, his steps deliberate and steady.
In the distance, the Right Star emerged, leaving a striking purple trail that cut through the sky like a vibrant ribbon.
"If the person who destroyed the train is still here," Marquis muttered, his voice low and steady, "that gives us—no, you—enough time to investigate. I think not?" His eyes locked onto the cloaked figure, who nodded with quiet determination.
"Who knew a kid would make me rethink my choices," Richard mused aloud, his gaze fixed on Geoffrey, who stood near the children. Even the slightest hint of shivering called his attention.
"Yes, Master," Geoffrey replied with a hint of resignation. "The new generation of kids are a bit of a hassle."
"I've finished patching them up," he added, gesturing to the unconscious forms of Anna and Elara. "They should regain consciousness soon."
Richard's gaze shifted to the window, where the approaching star loomed large. "Any suspects for the explosion?" he asked, his tone laced with unease.
The room seemed to grow colder, the question hanging like frost in the air.
"Possibly another heir of the families," Geoffrey speculated, stroking his chin. "Or perhaps a stray Mystical. Their motives and actions can be... unpredictable."
"What would a Mystical be doing here, causing such chaos?" Richard scoffed, then muttered to himself, "A stray Mystical."
"The boy is strong," Geoffrey noted, his eyes drawn to the lake outside. The once-pristine water, shimmering under the moonlight just hours ago, was now nearly half-depleted.
"He is," Richard agreed, acknowledging the boy's unexpected fortitude.
"If these kids don't wake up soon, I'll have to call another Right Star later," he said, his frustration evident.
"You will have to," Geoffrey affirmed, his tone pragmatic.
Suddenly, Leonardo jolted awake, his body convulsing as he sucked in a deep, ragged breath.
The abrupt movement startled both Richard and Geoffrey, their faces reflecting a mix of shock and relief.
"Where is the blue-haired guy?" Leonardo's voice sliced through the tension, urgent and sharp.
His awakening brought a surge of energy to the room. His eyes darted around, trying to make sense of the disarray.
"Relax, boy," Richard said, steadying his voice despite his fatigue. "You're safe now. Marquis took care of the flames."
Leonardo's mind raced—flashes of heat, screams, and Marquis's commanding presence filled his thoughts.
Turning to Richard and Geoffrey, he sought answers. "What happened?" he asked, voice trembling with fear and confusion.
Richard sighed deeply, running a hand through his graying hair—a gesture of both exasperation and exhaustion.
"There was an explosion on the Right Star," he began, glancing toward Geoffrey for support.
Leonardo recalled dragging Anna and Elara to safety, brief moments of heroism now clouded by doubt.
"We're not sure who or what caused it," Richard continued, "but Marquis managed to regain control of the situation."
Leonardo's eyes widened. "Is everyone okay?" he asked, gaze shifting anxiously to Anna and Elara, who lay unconscious but stable.
"They're going to be fine," Geoffrey assured him, calm despite the strain. "Thanks to Marquis and his quick thinking, the damage was minimized."
Leonardo looked down at himself, noting the healing of his wounds. Still, the memory of the burnt corpses haunted him. Over and over, he asked himself what he could have done differently.
"Where is Marquis?" he asked again, his voice filled now not with confusion, but determination.
"Oh, he's just about to leave actually," Richard said, gesturing toward the Right Star, which had come to a halt.
Most of the passengers had already boarded. Marquis and the cloaked figure were among them.
Leonardo rushed out of the mansion, heart pounding. "Blue hair!" he called out. Marquis turned, confusion flashing across his face.
"Yes?" he replied, curiosity piqued by Leonardo's sudden appearance. _He's already awake. I definitely underestimated him._
"You're Marquis. You don't know me, but..." Leonardo hesitated, then steadied himself. "You can call me Leonardo. I'm here to thank you."
_Great courtesy. Is he some form of noble?_ Marquis wondered.
"Marquis. Marquis de Lorraine," he introduced himself with poise.
No reaction. _How doesn't he know who I am?_
"Marquis," Leonardo echoed, turning the name over in his mind. "Let's meet at the Stem... properly next time."
Marquis nodded, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Very well. It was a pleasure meeting you," he said, turning toward the open door of the train.
"Yeah..." Leonardo muttered as the Right Star's door began to close.
Its departure was marked by a sudden rush of energy as it lifted into the air, the purple trails glowing brighter against the morning sky.
"Get ready, everyone," a speaker announced.
In an instant, the Right Star was enveloped in a burst of energy, accelerating rapidly until it vanished, leaving behind only a faint trace of purple.
"I'm tired," Leonardo whispered to himself, his voice barely audible against the thinning air. He began the slow walk back to the mansion, the fabric of his clothes—though regenerated—feeling heavier than before.