Chapter Text
The bar smelled of cheap alcohol, bad decisions, and lingering Regret.
Which was fitting.
It was, after all, one of the countless hidden branches of The Taverns, gathering places favored by Masked Fools, mercenaries, bounty hunters, smugglers, information brokers, and other respectable members of society.
Meaning absolutely nobody inside was respectable.
Laughter echoed through the dimly lit establishment.
Cards slammed against tables.
Credits changed hands.
Stories grew taller with every drink consumed.
And tonight's favorite topic happened to be a certain individual.
A bounty hunter.
A dangerous one.
A very strange one.
"You're tellin' me he took down a Fragmentum Behemoth by himself?"
"Not just one."
The speaker took a drink.
"Three."
The table collectively groaned.
"Oh come on."
"Three? That's your story?"
"I'm serious."
"You're drunk."
"I'm always drunk."
"Fair point."
Another Fool leaned back in his chair.
"The funny part isn't how strong he is."
"No?"
"No."
The Fool grinned.
"The funny part is why he's taking jobs."
That earned attention.
Several heads turned.
Even the bartender was listening now.
"Go on."
The Fool raised a finger.
"Dangerous criminal?"
"No."
"Revenge?"
"No."
"Secret mission?"
"No."
The Fool slammed both palms onto the table.
"He has children."
The entire table stared.
Then burst into laughter.
"No."
"You're joking."
"I swear on Aha."
The laughter somehow intensified.
"That's not even funny."
"Exactly!"
The Fool pointed dramatically.
"That's why it's funny."
Someone nearly fell out of their chair.
"You mean this nightmare bounty hunter is working because he has kids to feed?"
"Apparently."
"What kind of joke is that?"
"A terrible one."
"Aha would love it."
"Or hate it."
"Or both."
"Definitely both."
The table descended into chaos.
Someone wiped tears from their eyes.
Another struggled to breathe.
A third slammed his head against the table repeatedly.
"This is the worst joke I've ever heard."
"Right?"
"An unstoppable warrior wandering the stars because he's a single father?"
"Unbelievable."
"Peak comedy."
"It's not comedy."
"Exactly."
More laughter.
One of the older patrons finally spoke.
"Don't laugh too hard."
That quieted things somewhat.
The old man swirled his drink.
"I've seen him."
The atmosphere shifted.
Immediately.
The old man wasn't known for exaggeration.
If anything, he undersold everything.
"Well?"
"He real?"
The old man nodded.
Slowly.
"Very real."
The laughter died completely.
The old man's gaze darkened.
"I watched him erase an entire pirate crew."
Nobody spoke.
"He didn't even look angry."
The silence deepened.
"He looked tired."
A chill passed through several listeners.
The old man continued.
"There were forty-three pirates."
Someone swallowed nervously.
"There were forty-three pirates."
He repeated the number.
Then raised a finger.
"There weren't enough remains left to count afterwards."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
"That's impossible."
The old man merely shrugged.
"Maybe."
"Then how did he do it?"
"Didn't stay long enough to ask."
A younger Fool leaned forward.
"So what's the deal with him?"
"No idea."
"Where'd he come from?"
"No idea."
"Faction?"
"No idea."
"Path?"
"No idea."
The old man finished his drink.
"Nobody knows."
The bartender finally spoke.
"What about his appearance?"
That earned several nods.
The old man considered.
"Tall."
Helpful.
Everyone glared.
The old man ignored them.
"White hair."
Better.
"Cold, blue eyes."
Interesting.
"Wears dark armor, with some sort of cloak covering it"
Good.
"Looks like he hasn't slept in years."
Concerning.
The old man leaned back.
"And he always has children nearby."
The room collectively froze.
Again.
"You weren't joking."
"No."
"Three?"
"Three."
"Actual children?"
"Actual children."
The old man rubbed his forehead.
"I watched one of them threaten a gang leader."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"How old was the kid?"
"Twelve. Maybe."
The room exploded into questions.
"What happened?"
"Did the gang leader laugh?"
"Please tell me he laughed."
"He did."
Several patrons immediately began laughing.
"Then what happened?"
The old man stared into his drink.
"The child predicted the location of three hidden weapon caches."
The laughter died.
"The second child stole the gang leader's encrypted terminal."
The room became quieter.
"The third child somehow dismantled a combat mech using a screwdriver."
Nobody spoke.
The old man sighed.
"The father showed up ten minutes later."
The room collectively leaned closer.
"He apologized."
Everyone blinked.
"What?"
"He apologized."
The old man looked offended on behalf of reality.
"He actually apologized for the inconvenience."
The room descended into stunned silence.
One Fool finally whispered.
"Maybe he really is one of Aha's jokes."
The old man considered.
Then nodded.
"Wouldn't surprise me."
A terrifying warrior.
Three terrifying children.
Nobody knew where they came from.
Nobody knew where they went.
They appeared.
Solved impossible problems.
Created new impossible problems.
Then vanished.
Like ghosts.
Or cosmic pests.
The bartender cleaned a glass.
"So what's his name?"
The old man snorted.
"Nobody knows."
"Everyone calls him something different."
"The Ash Walker."
"The Shadow Hunter."
"The White Devil."
"The Ghost Mercenary."
The Fool from earlier raised his drink.
"But the best one is still the newest."
Several patrons grinned.
The nickname had spread surprisingly quickly.
Even by Tavern standards.
The Fool laughed.
"Yeah."
The old man groaned.
The bartender laughed.
The entire table joined in.
"The Dark Wanderer."
A ridiculous title.
A dramatic title.
Exactly the kind of thing Masked Fools loved.
Unfortunately.
The man himself apparently hated it.
Which made it even funnier.
The laughter echoed throughout the Tavern.
Far away among the stars.
A certain white-haired father suddenly sneezed.
Three children looked up from where they had somehow attached themselves to his person.
One hanging from his back.
One sleeping on his shoulder.
One reading a datapad upside-down.
"Father?"
Khaslana frowned.
"..."
Another sneeze.
The children stared.
Khaslana stared back.
A terrible feeling settled in his chest.
Somewhere.
Somehow.
Someone was talking about him again.
And he already knew it wasn't going to be flattering.
Unfortunately.
That was the least of his problems.
The stars above were wrong.
The universe was alive.
The future was gone.
And for the first time in decades...
Khaslana had absolutely no idea what came next.
The Dark Wanderer continued walking.
Three gremlins in tow.
Unaware that the universe had already started noticing them.