“See?” Yanara watched her sister in the mirror, whom she had dressed in a floor-length petticoat and a kimono jacket, and wove her hair. “Now you’re way prettier than I am. A sincere smile will be all it takes for all the younglings to fight among themselves just to stake their hearts for you. Miss cutesy badassery, I call it. Watcha think, Lis?”


    Lis remained stuck in her place, struck frozen, a dark wet curl stamped on each cheek. Her eyes absentmindedly swept the pink walls, ceilings, whatever. She didn’t know what to make of her life, her predicament, whatever. She seemed dead inside, to put it the best way, having no more tears to shed, no more voice to scream. Worst of all, no pink glasses she could put on.


    Her dead-fish eyes loomed like two vortexes of a black hole, a bang slap in one eye, a bleak nothingness in the other. Blank, deadpan, speechless, she just stood there. She just existed.


    “Oh, come on!” Yanara nudged the girl’s arm, a charming smile oozing with charisma contoured on her lips. She herself wore green shirt sleeves with high-rise sweatpants, her hair tucked behind her ears. No makeup. No perfume. No nothing. Not even any underwear. “Not all positive change feels positive in the beginning. The exercises weren’t just for muscles or strength. Look, you look way livelier the way you were.”


    Her smile deepened as she massaged Lis’s shoulders from behind. “On the bright side, you certainly have a knack for learning. The exercises I’ve shown you — you’ve absorbed them at a faster rate than even I would. With the help of technology or not, it’s still insanely difficult to mimic what you see or hear this splendidly.”


    Lis didn’t heed her a glance. Engrossed in empty thoughts, she raised her hands to too high above dramatically.


    “I’ve lost my sense of time and space… my bones churning, breaking… muscles crinkling, shredding… the nerves driving a searing stake through my mind… the airflow strangled and exhaust… the veins weltering under the strain and the tendons severely impaired… and, and, painful of all — them reshaping under the effect of the healing potion—ARGH!” Lis suddenly screeched, hyperventilating, pressing her hands hard against her temples as memories assaulted her, slumping. Yet she quickly quietened to her former state of affectionless apathy, her hands lowering and her eyes widening. “Was it really just five hours? How long has it been, really? Eternity… though at times I think just a moment. I feel nothing. As though there were nothing, and I am floating—in it… I have preserved my sanity… have I not? Or did I lose it somewhere—”


    “Cut it out with the edgy anime monologues,” Yanara tsked, pinching the girl’s neck. “At twelve, yes? We''re supposed to meet the old man at twelve. What''s he gonna think if he sees her little princess transform into a walking dead in a day’s time? Even I — have calmed. You were the one boasting about your low miasma, no? Where''s clarity in this mind of yours? All I see is fuc— fragility.”


    “As if he''d care… I''m all alone in this world, pathetic enough to make no friends… with an uncaring parent… and a lunatic as a sister now possessed by a demon… How did I deserve all this? Why?” Lis whispered to herself, her head low, her breaths acuted. Unbeknownst to her, tears fell. “Is this because I took my mother''s life upon birth… Is this karma? But how am I at fault for being born…? She gave birth knowing all too well she’d die. Just why? Everyone would be happy — she, him, and even you—”


    Yanara punched the girl on the arm. The girl, having no will to resist whatsoever, flailed to the floor beside the numerous sketches like a blown leaf.


    “Didn’t I tell you not to whine in my watch?” Yanara asked with fury in her voice.


    Lis raised her head and looked at the form of her sister. With no grudge, hatred, or any emotions perceptible. Just to measure the distance between them and the complete, utter emptiness.


    “Who are you?” she asked. “Just who are you really?”


    Silence descended upon the room, the smell of funny perfume permeating the atmosphere between the two supposed siblings.


    “Me?” Yanara met her eyes, her expression softening. “That’s a question I''d like to have an answer to too. I''m Yanara. Your sister Yanara? The demon Yanara? The salaryman Yanara? How the fu— How am I supposed to know? I only know one thing for sure.”


    She walked toward the frail girl who had fallen to the cruelty of life. “You care about Yanara. Yanara thus will always take care of you, too, no matter what. I’ve promised you, no?” she asked, extending her hand to her. “So stop whining. People cry when something''s wrong. There''s nothing inherently wrong with you, and if the world you''re living in is wrong, change it.”


    Her hand remained in the air as Lis simply watched it be. Tears continued to flee from her eyes.


    “To change it is to foremost have inner strength. Resilience. So that the world doesn''t bend you at its will. So that you will the change.” Yanara forcibly grabbed the girl’s arm and propped her up. “Hence, you must not fall. Under no circumstances can you whimper like a little bitc—” She coughed.


    “Did you take her body after her death?” the girl asked weakly.


    “Yeah, pretty much. But then again, there’s something I can’t quite figure out.” Yanara put a hand under her chin thinkingly. “Is it the girl who received my memories and forgot hers, or is it me who took her body, or…” She bent a knee and picked a paper among the miscellany of notes, scrutinizing the silly design of a panda jacket. “Are the girl and I the same people in different timelines or parallel realities? After all, as time goes by, I’ll regain all her memories, and her memories will affect my livelihood.”


    “In any case,” Yanara said, patting the girl’s shoulder. “Ignorance is a bliss, Lara. If you decide to gain strength and help me unveil the mysteries behind the bastards above, I’ll tell you more. If you instead want to lead a peaceful life, so be it. I’ll help you too. In this case, though, you shouldn’t ever be expectant of meeting your sister again.”


    Sadness washed over Lis. Her sister was dead, and some unknown entity had taken her body, talking to her as if they were ever close. Couldn’t this mysterious figure just keep the secret to themselves, though? Wasn’t revealing to her all this… a definite mistake?


    How did she ever come to believe in the supernatural in the first place? The occurrence of possession still sounded ridiculous to her, no matter how sound the reasoning was. Maybe she was mistaken. Maybe it was still her sister just acting. Maybe she hadn’t awoken from her dream yet, and this all was just a long, cruel nightmare—


    “Will you help me discover who your sister really is? Whether she’s still alive or dead. Whether she’s now standing in front of you or long perished forevermore?”


    Lis gazed at the hand extended toward her. Despite the intense training, the hand was still gentle, slender, and weak, and the finger thin, fragile, and shaky. Lis looked at the being’s face. Hidden behind the unsympathetic facade of a smile, she saw an even greater sadness than hers. Yanara had always been like that since she’d known her. From the very beginning to the end, she was terrible at hiding her heart. She was overly dumb in some areas and prodigious in others. Too emotional and empathetic for her own good, yet too bad at interpreting emotions all the same, both her and others’. Especially her own.


    In some ways, she’d always reminded her of those heroic protagonists, born in a wrong story that only punished her for the absolute lack of rationalism in the world that didn’t forgive hypocrisy.


    “Fuck you,” so she said.


    “I love you too, Lara.” Yanara smiled, hugging Lara with full strength. “No more soap operas, understood? I''m sure you will reach your own conclusion as the days pass.”


    This unconditional love was so like Yanara the girl knew of. Yet wasn’t the person hugging her the same individual who’d pressed a razor against her throat hours prior? This utter madness evoked in her something she didn’t know of — insatiable curiosity that momentarily overtook her grief. Was madness, perhaps, infectious?


    “You wanna have one more training session with me this evening? Very more potions to go. Exercising alone is kinda lonely—”


    “No!” Lis’s voice hitched as she instinctively pushed the devil away. Yanara fell backward, her head hitting the wall.Stolen story; please report.


    Lis glimpsed at her hand in surprise. When did she become so strong? She had never felt so powerful before.


    “Let''s go, Yana…ra,” she said, walking past her and leaving the room. “Before Father gets angry at me for postponing the meeting by minutes.”


    Yet before she could, she fell head-first, her nose coloring the floors.


    “Who the fuck do you think you’re pushing like that, ha?! Stupid little shit.” Yanara broke her record streak of not cursing. “Almost had a concussion there. You don’t expect some other dude to take over your sister’s corpse after I’m gone too, do you? Stand the fuck up before I stamp this empty head of yours into bloody bits. I’m more and more tempted by each passing second your sorry ass lies there.”


    And before Lis could, she felt a hand gripping her hair, pushing her up.


    “There’s no nice way of talking to kids, huh,” Yanara tsked, shoving her out of the door with a pushing kick. “Lead the way. Be quick.”


    ‘Hey, Pussyboy.’ Yanara telepathically voiced to her AI Assistant, correcting her oracleyes with a fingertip. ‘Tell me about the old man before we get there. I’ve suddenly forgotten everything about him, you see. How unfortunate.’


    Romeo’s gentle yet clearly terrified voice pierced through her head. ‘Se?orita, why are you—’


    ‘Call me that shit again and I’m resetting your malware-infused ass.’ Yanara followed Lis as she trod the stairs down the massive hall. ‘Remember, also — no questions. Only I ask questions. You’re nothing but a fucking tool, understood?’


    ‘Yes… I will always love you despite the—’


    ‘Don’t talk shit unless asked for, understood?’


    ‘Yes…’


    As Yanara descended the stairs, she glanced at the dead sun above, sighing in annoyance. Among the constellations, Pisces was undoubtedly amidst the incredibly hateful bunch. Not like any of them were comely, to begin with.


    ‘His Lordship Nar, The Duke of Narakria, also renowned as the thirty-seventh in the Top Hundred superhero list, Heather Honey—’


    “Pfft—” Yanara couldn’t keep her laughter inside. She received questioning glances from Lis, who almost reached the exit to their chamber. ‘Heather Honey? Really?! What kind of grown man goes around calling themselves fucking Heather. What kind of grown man goes by Honey? Why don’t you just call them by numbers? Can you imagine a kid telling their parents, ‘Mommy! Daddy! Growing up, I want to become like Heather Honey~!’. I knew from the moment I heard of Divine Emperor… This whole superhero thing is a cringefest, no?’


    ‘I believe it’s just—’


    ‘Didn’t ask, Pussyboy. Follow up with the info,’ the former Heavenly Demon voiced in her head, fixing the oracleyes on her nose, unused to ever having to wear glasses.


    ‘Sir Nar Guazzam is the third son of Divine Emperor. Having inherited his emerald eyes from his elven mother and his hair turning bright purple after reaching rank four, even among the otherworlders, he’s known to have a bizarre appearance. Besides the ability to manipulate plants, he’s revered for his Hive Mind, the control over dozens of monstrous bees at his disposal,’ Romeo spat word after word, like a broken machine. ‘His most renowned accomplishment is defending the Shire of Mathom by himself despite the persisting famine and the constant assault of high-ranked, intelligent monsters under the influence of the Blood Moon.’


    The double doors slid open as the two girls entered an even grander hall. The rich marble reflected the chandeliers, pillars, and the arched ceiling above. A line of guards in dark red iron uniforms, their whole bodies covered in crimson metal, greeted them with a bow. At the center stood a sole guard with a slightly more pristine uniform and an intimidating presence.


    “Greeting, Lady Nara Yanara,” he said with a firm, mechanic, Russian accent, bowing, and thereafter did the same by turning right. “Greetings, Lady Nara Larissa.”


    ‘Who the fuck is this bootleg Darth Vader?’ Yanara asked her AI Assistant.


    ‘It’s Sir Head Guard Anatoly. Here,’ Romeo noted as a hologram was formed beside the head guard, showing his face, age, and some characteristics, which only her master could see, who had previously enabled the private mode. ‘I can provide a more extensive description if you need.’


    ‘What a show-off.’ Yanara tsked mentally. ‘Like I wouldn’t already know that… I don’t understand, are you saying I’m stupid? I would’ve asked if there was a need to. You’re acting for me like I ain’t got the fucking sense to act for myself. Is that it? Is that what you’re doing?’


    ‘...’ As a supposedly all-knowing AI, Romeo remained speechless, bamboozled.


    The head guard turned on his heel, his red cloak flowing behind him, its ends reaching the polished floor. Other guards followed in the same manner, a few walking from behind.


    As the sisters followed, Yanara couldn’t help but admire the future. The overhead lights ran continuously down the automated systems and control panels. Beyond the observatory windows, snow poured just like always, jiving left and right and up and down at the command of a light breeze.


    ‘What’s those water guns they carry on their backs?’ Yanara asked, glaring at the guards in the front.


    ‘Plasma guns,’ Romeo answered. ‘They operate on mana.’


    ‘Oh, cool.’


    “How has the night been, Lady Larissa?” The head guard asked Lis, who walked beside them.


    “I’m not in the mood to talk,” Lis verbally shooed him off.


    ‘Wow wow, such temperament. She’s gonna grow more wrinkles in her freckled face,’ Yanara commented, enjoying the walk.


    “How has the night been, Lady Yanara?”


    “Fuck off.”


    They went down the path, which spiraled downward like the looping cables of a rotating turbine in motion. Yanara’s eyes repeatedly caught a recurring emblem carved into the walls along their route. A finely sculpted pomegranate surrounded by twisting branches and curly leaves, its split skin revealing a cluster of seeds within.


    ‘This is the Duchy’s symbol, yes?’ Yanara asked, tapping a carving with the back of her knuckles as they passed.


    ‘Yes,’ Romeo affirmed. ‘Symbolizing fertility and life, it represents renewal, vitality, wealth, and prosperity.’


    The path eventually straightened, leading into a wider corridor with more grandeur and a suppressed sense of authority. Sconces resembling blossoming lilies emitted warm lights. Machinery ticked silently around and throughout.


    The aromas of spices and meats assaulted her nostrils. ‘Smells good.’


    ‘...’


    ‘Oi fucker, why are you not responding?’ Yanara voiced angrily. ‘I don’t want to think like I’m thinking to myself. Or do you think I’m deranged?’


    ‘Absolutely not! It’s just that you’ve ordered me not to speak unnecessarily unless a question is being asked—’


    ‘No arguments, Pussyboy.’


    ‘...’


    ‘I can’t hear you?!’ Yanara shouted internally.


    ‘Yes, no arguments from now forth!’


    ‘Shut the fuck up.”


    ‘...’


    They finally reached the end, where a pair of bronze doors loomed. From both lower ends, trees rose with twining vines and pomegranates, and a bigger, circular pomegranate stood at the center of each door. Two guards stood on both ends also. They bowed in greeting as the doors slid open. “His Lordship awaits,” one on the right said.


    The two sisters walked in, all the guards beside the head guard standing behind.


    Yanara’s gaze immediately fell on the figure at the head of the long table laid with food — a half-elf, half-human, with slightly pointy ears. With a soft jawline, an elegant curve of high cheekbones, and an overall overly symmetrical face, his pale, porcelain skin stood against the flowing locks of his lavender hair that waterfalled in silky waves past his neck. His eyes glowed bright and emerald, just like hers.


    Dressed in a dark red elite military suit, he savored the wine the android maid served him.


    ‘You sure this dude’s a dude?’ Yanara asked.


    ‘Yes…’ Romeo affirmed.


    He glanced at Yanara and then at her other daughter, his hands clasped before him.


    “Children,” the Lord called with a firm yet soothing voice, pointing at the chair beside him with his relaxed eyes. “You’re late. Come take a seat.”