After they returned, Yekase asked Zhang Wendao about the white‑haired girl in a black sailor uniform, frost hair against night cloth.

[The weapon was a transformable iron staff, a rod that flowed like molten metal?]

“Right.” Her answer landed like a pebble in a still pond.

[And her finisher was called “Nightlight Torch”?]

“I don’t know if it was a finisher, but she shouted the skill, so it counts.” Her words drifted like smoke under moonlight.

“Iva…ris…?!” The name cracked like thin ice on a winter stream.

Zhang Wendao’s voice came out in two broken halves, surprise spilling like water over a stone.

Yekase took her hand to steady her, warmth like a small hearth in the cold. “She was from the Twenty Second Squad, right? I get the rush of finding another survivor. Don’t hurry. Breathe, then talk.”

“She… clearly… died in battle!” The claim shook like leaves in a sudden wind.

“Uh?” Confusion fogged in Yekase’s chest like mist at dawn. A death in battle? Died before the war even ended?

“Wait, then…” The thought clicked like beads on a string. If so, then who had just stepped in to help her?

[Magical Girl Ivaris. Ability: precision operation. She wields a magitech staff driven by intertwined Flash Energy and Omega Ray. Two months before the war ended, she was gravely wounded during an assault. Beyond saving, she volunteered as a test subject in Dr Ika’s secret plan.] The dossier unrolled like a scroll under starlight.

Yekase fell silent, thoughts circling like crows over a field.

From earlier exchanges, she had grasped the rules of a shifted worldline, a current that rebraids fate like river weeds. The dead get blurred into other deaths. The living lose that year of memory. The Twenty Second Squad is special; the people and every memory washed away like sand.

If Ivaris truly died in battle, she should have been blurred into another death, like a truck on a city street grinding past in rain. Yet she was erased, a name lifted like chalk from a slate.

Blurred or erased, the one they saw was breathing and present, a flame cupped against the wind.

Dr Ika’s secret experiment— The past self, hands stained like ink, what had she done to that girl?

A portal tore open from space, woven from Omega Ray and Flash Energy, a wound in the sky like a slit in velvet. She stepped out. She wanted to help, a lantern in night, yet she hurried away once it was done, a shadow cutting across water.

[Headstrong and willful—very much her style. If that’s true, are there other survivors from the Twenty Second Squad…] The thought rang like a bell in a quiet temple.

One headstrong soul nearby was already enough; the Heavenly Prison King loomed like a thunderhead.

Fine. As long as she didn’t pop open portals on a whim, she probably wouldn’t pick a fight. This could be shelved, a letter left under a paperweight.

Tap, tap, tap— The knock tapped like sticks against a drum.

“Come in!” Her voice held like a lantern in a corridor.

Dragon God Shark stepped in, her presence cutting the air like a fin through tide.

Yekase knew her aim, yet feigned ignorance like a cat under eaves. “What’s up?”

“Why do you know the name [ZEROS]?” Her question sliced clean, a blade flashing in noon light.

If this had been two days ago, Yekase would have floundered, a boat in chop. Now she had the best shield, a polished mirror against arrows.

“Miss Zhang Wendao told me.” Her deflection slid like rain off lacquer.

“Eh? Ah… yes…” Zhang’s agreement fluttered like a small flag in wind.

A perfect lie is all truth arranged into falsehood, a tapestry woven backward. Yekase went further: she used truth spoken by another to braid a lie, ivy coiling around a gate.

“But I’m curious. [ZEROS] is buried in discarded history, a name like a fossil under clay. Why did you react?”

A lie more perfect than perfect loops back to net more fish, words casting like a line over a dark river.

“Because I…” She hesitated, heart thudding like a drum. The weight inside her pushed like storm tide. “I awakened Mind Energy in 2012.” The memory sparked like a match under rain.

Wait—nine years ago you were seven, right?! Numbers rattled in Yekase’s skull like abacus beads.

“At the instant history got replaced, I was trying to fortify my body with Mind Energy. So I remembered only the name that mattered most to me, the one I would not let go.” Her vow held like a knot in red string.

She stretched out her right hand and opened her clenched fist, petals parting like a lotus.

Inside lay a Bluetooth earbud Yekase had seen once, a pebble of sky blue.

“[ZEROS]. I play this in my ear every day, repeating like waves, afraid I’ll forget everything about that person.”

“That person is your…?” The question hovered like a moth around a candle.

“My older brother.” Her answer anchored like a stone in clear water.

“[ZEROS] sounds like a Magical Girl, right?” The idea blinked like a firefly.

“Magical Girl ZEROS is my brother.” She repeated it, a mantra under breath, steady as a prayer wheel.

How to say it— Yekase felt a sudden warmth, kinship rising like tea steam.

“But it’s fine now. Miss Zhang Wendao is a living memory.” The phrase glowed like amber holding a breath.

“Living… memory…” Zhang Wendao lowered her head, cheeks blooming like dawn over rooftops.

Yekase stood and gestured Dragon God Shark to sit, a hand sweeping like a fan. “You two talk. I’ll go find Ling… Flashblade Red to hang out.”

“Thank you, Doctor!” Gratitude rang like a jade chime.

“It’s nothing…” The reply drifted like a feather off a sill.

Yekase stepped out and tapped her earbud, calling Ling Yi, a signal threaded like silk.

“Hey, you there?” Her voice rolled like a quiet wave.

[Doctor! I’m under attack!] Panic cracked like lightning across a summer sky.

“Huh? Isn’t this getting a bit too frequent?” Her patience thinned like paper.

[How would I know! It’s the enemy who sent “Dew”! He’s back with a roar!] The name hit like a raindrop on stone.

Jiang Bailu?! The thought surged like a startled fish beneath reeds.

How did she find this island, this rock under cloud?! And at a time like this— The timing stung like grit in an eye.

“Location?! I’m heading over now!” Her urgency snapped like a bowstring.

Ling Yi sent a coordinate, a star pinned like a pinprick on night silk. Yekase overlaid it on the tour map Professor F had sent, layers stacking like rice paper. It sat atop the island’s highest peak—Buzhou Mountain—its summit like a spear poking the sky.

Ah. She was the type to wander for fun, footsteps scattering like leaves.

A quick battle in a remote spot might dodge Professor F’s questions and the Unrecognized Consortium X stink, trouble flowing away like tide. A small mercy in a storm.

“Then, [Celestial Speech], [Levitation Spell]…” The incantations rolled like river stones.

She tried to fly. Her body lifted a little, a kite tugging at string, then sank back slowly, a leaf falling in still air.

Of all times! Frustration flared like a match in dry grass.

She remembered last time she ran dry. There’d been no sense of Sorcery reaching the bottom, no warning bell, the gauge blank as winter glass. This thing had no alert system, a silent well.

“Send me the surveillance feed first!” Her demand cut like a whistle.

[Got it!] The answer popped like a bead.

She had already fought “Dew.” “Gale” had arrived as payout like a gust through bamboo. If Jiang Bailu’s ritual flair made her end with “Zec,” then the last piece was “Gauntlet”… The sequence pricked like beads on a mala.

She slid on a monocle and linked the Blade Armor’s camera, a wire threading through shadow.

The image came in— A smear of green, an afterimage like moss streaked by rain.

“‘Gale’! It’s that one again!” Her teeth set like a clamp.

“You stall her. My Sorcery’s empty. I’ll climb up and—” Her plan broke like chalk.

“Doctor? Why are you here? Come with me to the infirmary to check your ear!” Professor F strode over, her grip firm as a clamp.

“Uh? I should be fine—” The protest fizzled like steam.

“You’ll know after we check.” Her tone pressed like a hand on a lid.

Professor F tucked Yekase’s arm under her own, the hold snug like a cushion, warmth blooming like a heated airbag. The tactile jolt made Yekase surrender on the spot, feet skidding like sled runners as she was hauled toward the infirmary.

[Doctor?] Ling Yi’s voice fluttered in the ear like a sparrow.

Curse it! Professor F’s buffer shape fit too well, a comfort like winter down. Even Yekase, who swore she only loved machines, wavered for a heartbeat, footing slipping like sand.

“I’m done… Fight on your own…” Her will melted like wax.

[Doctor?!] Panic cracked like a brittle reed.

Yekase quit thinking and let herself be dragged like a limp body, her shoes leaving two parallel lines, rails on dusty floor.

Beep— The comm line cut like a blade through thread.

Professor F dragged her into the infirmary, set her on a bed, and pulled out several devices, steel glinting like fish in a net.

“You moonlight as a doctor?” The question rose like steam off tea.

“Logistics has to know a bit of everything.” Her smile perched like a bird on a wire.

“…” Yekase stared at the ceiling, white as bone, thoughts emptying like a bowl.

Lost. Utterly lost. In logistics, she was flattened, a banner fallen in rain.

Faced with a wounded Ling Yi, she could only make her trigger Mind Energy to heal herself, her hands useless like tied strings. Before the diligent Professor F, she felt like a corrupt official before an emperor’s wrath, unable to raise her head, rain pounding like drums.

Drop the “doctor” title; start over as an assistant, sweeping floors like a novice. Besides, she was only an undergrad, a seed not yet a tree.

“Turn your head. Let me look…” Professor F leaned in, her shadow falling like cool shade, and covered Yekase’s ear with something soft, a cap like a petal.

From this angle, Yekase could see the curve of her abdomen, a smooth arc like a dune, and the lower half of the headlights, chrome gleaming like moonlight.

Calm down! Think of mecha! Think of the unfinished schematics, lines waiting like rivers.

After all four keys unlock, for ease you integrate the forms into one key, a shape like a folded fan— The idea stitched like thread.

“...Uh?!” Something slid in, a cool line like a silver fish in a stream.

“Don’t move. Your ear canal shows a bit of bleeding. I’ll swab it with cotton.” Her hands worked like a weaver’s.

Base code can mimic the new ternary. Capacity grows in sync, swelling like a seed. Size becomes a fist at most, still easy to carry, a stone in pocket. Spare capacity can fit Ling Yi’s longed‑for new form— The plan ticked like gears.

“...Ew?!” The chill kissed like frost.

“The endoscope’s a little cold. Bear with it.” Her voice stroked like velvet.

“I’m going to die, I’m going to die!” The panic hopped like a rabbit.

“I won’t let you die.” Her assurance laid like a blanket.

Her head was held steady, fingers like clamps. The cool thing nudged in her ear, small motions like minnows. Professor F sighed in relief, breath easing like spring rain. “Your eardrum has one or two tiny perforations. With your youthful recovery, you’ll be fine soon.”

Sorry, not that youthful… The thought drifted like a leaf.

“By the way, Dr Ye. What’s your relationship with Dr Ika?” The question dropped like a stone in deep water.

“Eh?!” The yelp popped like a bubble.

“You’ve made three different sounds now.” Her count clicked like beads.

Yekase’s head was pinned, an instrument lodged in her ear, half her life in Professor F’s hands, heart rattling like a caged bird— It was hard not to think this woman did it on purpose.

Cold sweat ran across her back, two lines like rivers. “No, um… Dr Ika is from the Sinister Organization, right? Why think I’m connected?”

“Because you both study Flash Energy. Worldwide, from old professors to undergrads, you can’t count more than two hands.” Her logic stacked like bricks.

“It’ll catch on!” Yekase blurted, hope waving like a tiny flag.

“And when I saw your design for Dragon God Eden, I felt your clean, minimalist language matches that doctor’s. He may be a villain, but his mastery of lightweight is worth learning.” Admiration glimmered like a blade’s sheen.

“Everyone borrows and refines.” Yekase’s deflection spun like a fan.

“So I’ve always thought, if that heavyweight stood on justice, how good it would be. And you, Dr Ye, feel sent by heaven to grant that wish, a comet crossing my night. It’s strange, since you study real‑type Infinite Power.” Her words hummed like a zither.

Professor F absentmindedly stroked Yekase’s cheek, cool palm like polished jade.

“Mmm…” Guilt rose like tide. If she kept lying, sleep would snag like thorns.

“Actually, I’m—” The confession trembled like a branch.

“...?” Expectation hovered like a hawk.

“—Dr Ika’s…” Yekase’s heart seized like a drumbeat. If Professor F was firm about justice, knowing her black past would shatter this hard‑won alliance, a vase dropped on stone.

“What? You—”

“—disciple! Yes, I’m a disciple he took in private! I hid it because I feared you’d discriminate. I’m terribly sorry!” Her words knelt like a penitent.

“So that’s… it!” Relief spread like sun across frost.

The endoscope slid out, a silver thread leaving like a fish.

“Don’t feel inferior. Power’s only good or evil in the user’s hand, a blade or a plow. Even if your teacher is a villain, you, without doubt, are a hero.” Her verdict settled like snow.

Ah. Yekase felt the cool of Professor F’s palm, a touch like spring water, and sighed, breath dimming like a lantern.

Tonight, she would probably sleep poorly, thoughts flickering like moths around a candle.