Trailblazer

A girl/boy, Trailblazer, decides to travel with the Astral Express to eliminate the threat of the Stellaron.

You don't remember much.
You're not from around here, nor did you come from elsewhere. You're not really going anywhere—
Just then, that indistinct voice whispers into your ear. That sorrowful and tender persuasion, that deceptive goading...
The seeds take root. You open your eyes, and the speaker is no longer there.

But there are more and more voices, and they are getting clearer and clearer.
Some give easygoing care, some calmly provide advice, some speak firm support, and some gift gentle direction...
You see the silken thread being woven to form tomorrow.

A huge beast descends from infinity,
golden pupils stare down from the darkness,
and you are no longer abandoned by the past.
You will also set upon a long journey,
and the thorns you have stepped on have become your path.

The train whistles, wishing you a successful journey to the coming future
...by your own will.

You have arrived at the "City of Preservation."
Behind the snow curtain, the wind lashes like steel blades, but the kindling burns on.
Distant lands won't hear them, and the earth trembles in kind, with only the wailing crowds braving the wind.

After facing foreign enemies, the Eternal Freeze, and reality's fissures, a rot begins to fester within the fort.
You try lending a helping hand, but are forsaken.
Some once looked down on you and misunderstood you, but still you stood by their side and helped them find their way.
More care about you and worry about you. They face their suffering, and find the cure for the distressed.
Eventually, they come to your side.

In the ice and snow, you are like a fire, protecting the soul of this world
...Even though you must scorch yourself day and night.

The harmonious music guides you to stumble into the sweet dream, as syrup and soda fill your throat.
The festival is grand, the crowd boisterous, and strangers cast on disguises to meet up in the dream.
You view to your hearts' desires the wondrous and otherworldly views, and part ways when dewdrops shimmer with the break of dawn —
When the pitch-black midnight has just begun.

The clock hands go tick-tock, and death follows closely like a shadow.
You are placed onto the table as a bargaining chip, but manage to win for yourself the right to uncover the secret.
You bring with you the dreams of the dead and continue on the road that they did not walk, facing the enemies they could not defeat—

The false god rises in the conglomeration of the multitude's wishes, and the unanimous song of the gazillions drowns out your existence.
Those walking on different roads take up each other's hands,
your melodies interweave with each other, faint but imperishable like the lights in a long night.
One after one, people startle awake from their dream. That tiny song finally merges into a deafening roar in the end, tearing free of the dream's curtains.

The eternal sweet dream scatters in a fleeting instant, and you finally understand why people slumber
— They do so towards a dawn freed from dreams.