There was the sensation of mud drying on his cheek. Hardened grains of dirt crumbled and fell with the slightest shift of his expression. Leon Crawford walked alone through the dim stone corridor leading to the north wing of the royal palace, the Palais d'Étoile. His left eye was a deep ocean blue that seemed to draw you in, his right a silver-gray like an overcast sky. Those mismatched eyes were now slightly downcast, as if ruminating on the day's events. In the courtyard, the noble children who bore the power of Venus had laughed. "Stardust liar." They had pinned Leon's thin arms and smeared mud from the ground onto his face. He did not resist. Not because he couldn't, but because he chose not to. In his eighteen years of life, he had learned the hard way that the more he resisted, the worse things became. The servants around him pretended not to see. He couldn't bring himself to blame them. In this country, that was simply how things were. His unruly hair, a deep navy nearly black, clung to his forehead. On his right wrist, which he raised to push back the bangs matted with sweat and mud, an old burn scar from childhood remained, dark and red. His tall, lean frame was draped in worn-out work clothes that hung loosely. At his neck, a small star-shaped pendant dangled from a frayed leather cord. The stone walls exuded a damp chill. Only his own footsteps echoed hollowly through the corridor—*clack, clack*. The only light streaming through the windows was starlight. Everything in this country—the Kingdom of Étoile—was decided by the stars. Seven days after birth, the "Star Manifestation Rite" determined which planet's power one harbored, and from that moment, a person's life was set in stone. Those who bore the power of Mars, Venus, or Mercury—planets close to the sun—were nobles. Jupiter and Saturn meant commoners. And those who held the power of the most distant planet, Neptune—they were "Stardust Ones." Despised as the star of illusions and deceit, they were forced to crawl at the very bottom of society. At the end of the corridor, Leon pushed open the door to the innermost room of the north wing. Stone walls. A crude bed stuffed with straw. Thin moonlight filtered through an opening too small to be called a window. That faint glow was all that illuminated the room, which lacked even a single candle. It was like a prison cell. No—he had heard that this room had actually once been a storage closet. Leon closed the door and let out a long breath. It was then that a sweet scent suddenly tickled his nose. He looked at the top of the cupboard. A small bundle wrapped in white cloth sat there quietly. Leon's heart gave a faint thump. *(Refia.)* He reached out and gently unwrapped the bundle. Inside were simple baked sweets. The fragrance of butter wafted softly into the air. And a short, hastily written note in meticulous handwriting. *"Thank you for your hard work today."* That was all. No name, nothing else—just a single line. And yet, a hot sensation welled faintly at the corners of Leon's eyes. He touched the slip of paper gently to his star-shaped pendant. Refia Arcronos. An older woman who had served as his personal maid since childhood. While even the other servants treated Leon like something untouchable, she alone had always treated him the same as ever. She was the only one who had ever called his weak illusions—a power so useless it could barely turn a candle flame into a flower—"beautiful." *(Why... for someone like me.)* He always thought that. He had nothing. His father had once been a proper noble with the power of Jupiter. But the moment Leon manifested Neptune's power at his Star Manifestation Rite at age six, the family fell into ruin. His father drowned himself in drink out of despair, and his mother fell ill. After the two of them died one after the other, it was the royal palace that "took in" the young Leon and his sister Lily. But it was not out of mercy. It was merely a measure to keep the bearer of Neptune's power close at hand and under watch. Leon had sensed this vaguely. He had no proof. But the feeling that he was merely "being kept" always lingered deep in his chest. And above all, he himself believed it deeply—that his power was worthless. Illusions and deceit. A liar. Good for nothing. That thought chipped away at his will, little by little, every single day. Even so, he wanted to be of use to someone. He wanted to protect someone with this power. That wish alone, he could not let go of. And Refia. She alone knew that wish. No—rather than knowing it, she simply accepted it. How much that saved him, Leon could not put into words. His gratitude toward her, and something warm and painful that he could not separate from it, breathed quietly deep in his chest. *(I still don't really know what this is, but...)* Leon put one of the baked sweets into his mouth. A simple sweetness spread across his tongue. She had made these for him. That alone made him feel that he could somehow get through this day—the day he had been smeared with mud. —That night. Leon lay on his crude bed, unable to sleep. The straw prickled against his skin. Outside the window, he could see the Star Crystal Tower—a white tower 120 meters tall that rose from the palace courtyard—gleaming dully in the moonlight. He had heard that the tower was a place where the star powers of the seven planets converged. But Neptune's power alone could not enter there. He closed his eyes. That was the moment. A sensation like searing heat suddenly shot through his entire body. A violent heat, as if something were boiling up from the depths of his organs. Leon tried to spring up, but his body wouldn't move. He stared at his fingertips. From them, a faint indigo light was seeping out. *(Wh—what—)* The next instant, the entire stone wall on the north side of the room began to waver like a mirage. Impossible. Beyond that wall was just more wall. Or so he thought, but the stone surface rippled, melted, and then—a steep stone staircase stretched out before him. A hidden passage that should not exist. He could neither reach out his hand nor raise his voice. Only indigo light overflowed from Leon's eyes, surging into the depths of the passage. And then, what flowed back from beyond was—visions. Darkness. On a stone floor, several figures were crouched. An old man, a young woman, a child not even ten years old. Faces chained to the wall, emaciated, given no water. Hollow eyes filled with a mixture of terror and resignation. And then Leon noticed—every single one of their eyes was a deep indigo. *(Bearers of... Neptune's power...?)* One of them in the vision slowly raised their head. Clouded indigo eyes looked straight at Leon. Lips moved. No voice could be heard. But from the shape of those lips, Leon read a single phrase. *Help me.* In that instant, the indigo light was severed from his entire body and vanished. The stone wall returned to normal as if nothing had happened. And then—a violent pain that pierced his spine. "Guh, agh...!" Leon tumbled from the bed and collapsed onto the cold stone floor. His whole body convulsed, and nausea surged up. As the cold sensation of the stone touched his cheek, a single suspicion blazed up in his mind. *(What... was that?)* His usual power was nothing like this. Turning a candle flame into a flower—a mere illusion, useless to anyone. That was all it was supposed to be. And yet, what he had just seen—it was far too real, far too vivid, like a fragment of truth. *(Where is that passage? Underground? Or somewhere else?)* *(Who are those people? Why are they in a place like that?)* *(And... is my power really just illusions?)* He didn't know how much time passed before the intense pain subsided. Eventually, Leon raised his upper body with trembling arms and stared at his own hands. On his knuckles, faint remnants of indigo light flickered ever so slightly. *(Should I tell someone about this?)* The face that came to mind was Refia's. If it were her, she would surely listen. But—what if she reported this outburst to the Cardinal Council or someone else? *(No... there's no way she would.)* Leon shook his head. Refia had always been by his side. Even today, she had left baked sweets for him like that. The words in that letter were not lies or falsehoods. Doubting her was absurd. And yet, something caught in the back of his throat. Whether this feeling was fear or trust, Leon could not tell. He stood on trembling legs and reached for the cupboard. He put another baked sweet into his mouth. The same simple sweetness of butter and sugar as before. But now, it felt just slightly inorganic. The moisture was being drained from his mouth. He closed his eyes. Beyond the darkness, those indigo eyes were still watching him. *Help me*—that silent cry resurfaced again and again. Where were those people? Was there really something beneath the royal palace? What had his power been seeing? *(I have to find out.)* That thought bubbled up within him. There was fear. But more than that—an emotion he had never felt toward his own power pierced his chest. It was not fear, but doubt. And perhaps, just a little bit of hope. *(Is this power truly worthless?)* *(If it's not—)* The thought beyond that had not yet taken shape. Leon simply continued, until dawn, to look back and forth between his trembling fingertips and the indigo eyes seared into his mind. Outside the window, the Star Crystal Tower shone white as always. What did that tower reflect, and what did it hide? And when Refia came to his room tomorrow morning, would he confide this to her, or keep it hidden? He still had no answer. The night, mingled with mud and sweat and the sweetness of baked goods, simply deepened in silence. In the corner of the room, the white cloth bundle floated faintly in the moonlight. Staring at it, Leon called her name somewhere in his heart. —Refia. That sound alone was the thin thread that barely held the darkness of this night together.