Two more weeks passed after Kallen returned from Dreamflux Reef.
And now, at last, the Charmony Festival was about to begin.
By Kallen's reckoning, the Astral Express crew should be arriving within the next couple of days.
But that had little to do with her right now.
At the moment, she had her sights set on a very special target.
The bar was tucked away in a dim corner, the lighting murky and low, like the last thing a drowning person would see.
Kallen rested her chin on the cold counter, staring at the untouched glass of SoulGlad in front of her.
Then she tilted her head.
At the far end of the bar sat a woman, long hair falling over her shoulders.
She hadn't ordered a drink. She was simply sitting there in silence.
Violet eyes.
Acheron.
Or rather—
Raiden Bosenmori Mei.
A name no one remembered anymore.
So she'd already arrived at this point in time, huh? It seemed there were still slight deviations in the timeline after all.
As if sensing Kallen's gaze, Acheron slowly turned her head.
"...Hello?"
She seemed a little surprised by Kallen's presence.
But Kallen, of course, wasn't about to lose nerve over something like that. She got up at once and walked over to sit beside her.
"Hello there, beautiful lady."
"You didn't order anything?" Kallen pointed at the completely empty space in front of Acheron.
Acheron tilted her head slightly, as though she hadn't expected that to be the first thing Kallen would ask.
"...I'm not very used to the drinks here."
"Same," Kallen said with deep feeling, nodding emphatically.
"The alcohol here is way too sweet. Every single one tastes like soda. Sweet enough to choke you to death inside a dream."
Acheron said nothing, merely looked at her quietly.
"Then how about I buy you something else?" Kallen suddenly proposed.
A faint flicker passed through Acheron's eyes—the first expression with any real warmth she'd shown since arriving.
"There isn't anything else here."
"There is."
Kallen hopped down from her stool, walked behind the bar, and—under the horrified gaze of the bartender—opened a cabinet he'd clearly never touched.
"You've got some unsweetened base spirits somewhere, don't you?"
The bartender opened his mouth, probably to say something about how customers weren't allowed behind the counter, but after Kallen glanced at him once, all his lines died in his throat.
He'd been in this business for more than ten years. His instincts told him one thing very clearly:
Don't mess with the woman who looked like a high school girl.
Kallen rummaged around for a moment and pulled out a bottle of transparent liquid with most of the label worn away.
"See? Told you."
She grabbed two glasses, poured a shallow layer into each, and pushed one toward Acheron.
"Try it."
Acheron lowered her gaze to the clear liquor in the glass, but didn't reach for it right away.
"What is it?"
"No idea," Kallen said righteously.
"The label's all smeared off. Who knows what year this thing is from? But it's a dream—nobody can die from drinking in a dream. What's there to be scared of?"
Then she knocked back her own glass first.
Immediately, her whole face scrunched up.
"God... that's strong."
She hissed through her teeth, the corners of her eyes growing damp.
"This stuff is definitely expired. Expired with personality."
Acheron watched her for a moment.
Then she picked up her own glass and took a sip.
No frown.
No cough.
Not even the slightest shift in expression.
She simply set the glass back down as though all she'd drunk was a cup of warm water.
Of course, Kallen knew that was perfectly normal.
Because of the influence of Nihility, Acheron had long since lost her sense of taste.
"..."
Kallen stared at her for three seconds, then said in a deliberately ignorant tone, "You're kind of terrifying, you know that?"
"Why?"
"I'm pretty sure you could drink industrial alcohol and not even twitch an eyebrow."
Acheron didn't deny it. She simply lowered her gaze.
Silence spread between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable.
At the other end of the bar, the other guests remained adrift in their own fragments of dream. The bartender wisely hid in the back.
"Are you here for the Charmony Festival?" Kallen asked.
"You could say that."
"'You could say that'?" Kallen tilted her head. "That's a pretty perfunctory answer."
Acheron was silent for a moment before answering, "...I'm here to fulfill a promise."
To fulfill the promise she had made with Tiernan.
Kallen naturally knew that already.
But Acheron's purpose in coming to Penacony wasn't limited to that.
According to the plot, of the three dream layers that eventually pushed Sunday into godhood, one of them was broken by Acheron herself.
And according to Kallen's current plan, although she had already decided to stop Gopher Wood and Sunday, she intended to wait until after Sunday ascended before kicking the whole thing over.
Which meant she had to guard against Acheron.
At that thought, Kallen quickly weighed the difference in strength between them.
Mm... on this maxed-out account, beating Acheron wouldn't be hard.
But Kallen's current role was supposed to be the one using Adaptation to tank Preservation's giant hammer and build up resistance. She didn't really have the spare time to personally deal with Acheron.
In that case, she'd have to bring in another account.
Kiana, then.
Kallen made the decision almost immediately.
Honestly, any of her accounts could probably stop Acheron if necessary.
But even Kallen herself was curious—if Acheron were to see Kiana, what kind of reaction would she have?
Sure, because of Nihility, Acheron's emotions had long since become exceedingly muted.
But she had seen people who resembled former companions before.
Still...
This was Kiana.
Surely that was a bigger draw than some old man like Welt, right?
If Kiana showed up in front of Acheron holding Shamash, would Acheron really be able to bring herself to strike?
The thought put Kallen in a much better mood.
But just as the corners of her lips began to rise, she suddenly felt another gaze settle on her.
This wasn't some idle, meaningless glance.
It was deliberate.
Kallen immediately looked over.
At the far end of the bar, three empty stools away, a woman in a wide-brimmed hat sat holding a glass.
Black Swan.
I see.
So this was the day Acheron was going to pluck Black Swan's feathers.
In that case, Kallen had better have the grace to make way.
So she turned back to Acheron.
"You're drinking that way too slowly."
Acheron seemed to react half a beat late.
"I'm tasting it."
"Tasting what?"
"...Nothing."
Kallen was silent for a moment, then nudged her own glass a little closer.
"Try this one too."
Acheron lifted her eyes. "Why?"
"Because I want to see whether you'll react to this one." Kallen propped her chin on one hand, openly curious.
"You drank that expired rocket fuel without even moving a muscle. I'm starting to suspect there's something wrong with your taste buds."
Acheron looked at her for a few seconds, said nothing, and picked up the second glass.
She took a sip.
Still no expression.
"Well?"
"It's sweet."
"Seriously?"
Kallen leaned over and took a sip straight from the glass in Acheron's hand.
Then her face twisted up again.
"You liar! This is bitter! Bitter as hell!"
She waved a hand and shoved the offending glass aside.
"Forget it. Your sense of taste is definitely broken."
"But that's fine. It's a dream—there's all kinds of drinks here. Keep trying, maybe eventually you'll find one you can actually taste."
Acheron didn't answer. She just kept watching her.
All right.
A tactful person knew when to exit the stage.
Kallen hopped down from the stool, then pushed the bottle with the peeled label toward Acheron.
"It's yours. I can't handle something this harsh."
Acheron looked at the bottle of liquor, then finally spoke the longest sentence she had all night.
"You bought me a drink. I haven't repaid you yet."
"Then owe me for now." Kallen had already turned away, waving a hand over her shoulder.
"You can pay me back next time we meet."
She took two steps, then suddenly stopped and looked back at Acheron.
"Oh, right. My name's Kallen. Kallen Kaslana."
"And you?"
...Kaslana?
That familiar surname seemed to stir some distant fragment of memory.
At last, Acheron lifted her head and met Kallen's gaze.
"...Acheron."
"Just Acheron?" Kallen asked.
"Just Acheron."
Kallen nodded. She didn't press for a real name or probe into her past. She simply said, with a strange sort of earnestness:
"Miss Acheron, I hope you fulfill your promise."
Join here to read ahead.
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Checking In in Demon Slayer 75
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Emiya Shirou, Determined to Slay Every Curse and Evil Spirit 35
The Uma Musume Who Became 30
I'm Definitely Not the King of 35
After Maxing Out Every Class 35
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