"What about my eyes? Everything looks like a kaleidoscope—normal shapes drowned in shattering color."

"Like your body, they'll settle in a few days. When I examined you, Arcane Sensitivity seemed always on. The eye glitch is one sign."

"Always on? Then my blue bar's doomed…"

Huh? Feels like no Sorcery is flowing.

"Celestial Speech."

There—now it hums, like wind through pines.

"Arcane Sensitivity?"

Nothing—quiet, a pond without ripples.

"Feels like it turned passive. I left it on till the end; it got folded in as a default, like breath."

Fine by me. Yekase always wanted that tracking live; she accepts it like rain after drought.

"Then we'll stop bothering you. Rest well."

"Mm."

Rustling steps fade, like leaves blown down a corridor.

But a person‑sized blur near the bed doesn't move, a dark block amid mosaics. Yekase draws breath to ask—Ling Ya speaks:

"Doctor."

"Ling Ya… uh…"

"Fighting beside you made me happy, like sharing a lantern in storm rain."

"You're not mad at me?"

"My sister… she's the kind who stands up, a pine in snow. I should thank you for making sure she wasn't bare‑handed when she did."

She'd seen it the moment they met. That fool even cooked up a hostage‑for‑hostage tactic—unthinkable, and she dared to use it. With anyone but Yekase, she'd have been buried there.

But the world has no what‑if. In the end, wavefunctions collapse, like a bell’s note dying.

"The Beast King Squadron works mainly in Liudong City; at Twin Towers, I'm usually solo, a hawk flying alone."

Ling Ya gently takes Yekase's hand, warm as spring water.

"From now on, Flashblade Red, the Dragon God Shark, and Mechbreaker—three heroes…" She breaks into a giggle, like chimes.

Her smile tastes sweet, like ripe peach.

"I never thought this day would come. Nine years after losing my brother, I feared family would be dragged into chaos and drift away. Now it's different. If he could see our fights, he'd be proud, like moonlight on steel."

"By the way—what was your brother's real name?"

"…I don't remember."

"Uh… I'm sorry."

Ling Ya shakes her head, tucks Yekase's hand under the blanket, stands a heartbeat, then leaves slow as falling snow.

Silence folds back over the room, like a shawl.

Without a phone, Yekase lies dazed, staring at a mosaic ceiling where colors weave and melt like stained glass in rain.

Celestial Speech still lingers. Her vision shows half‑transparent fine lines—irregular, yet truer than pure mosaic, like spider silk.

Countless lines of uneven thickness drift the same way, trembling in air like reeds. She wants to pluck them, but her fingers won't move.

Those are Sorcery currents, river‑threads in the air.

Sorcery flows through nature. When humans invoke Celestial Speech—the language of gods—its gaze falls on someone, granting spell rights. Casting echoes nature’s will, like thunder following lightning.

The call can be any tongue. Some scholars claim cognition decides if you can cast, a key cut by mind.

Westerners love their talk of God and the Almighty—benefits to me, sins to heaven. Magic plays into that taste, like wine poured for a banquet.

"Levitation Spell."

Her body lifts a few centimeters, a leaf on a breeze. The hot press on her back finally breathes.

Sweat isn't her focus. In her eyes, those free‑swaying Sorcery currents snap when she names the spell; loose ends drop and plug into her, ICU lines latching on.

After the cast, ends don’t shatter. They curl back slow, severed mouths knitting, like roots rejoining soil.

"Electromagnetics…?"

If we ride those currents, could machines cast instead of humans, like mills turned by river?

How do we rate the flow? Mirror the caster? Or do objects hold their own throughput, like springs?

Yekase knows she should know, a name on the tongue’s tip.

At least in 2012, she knew it, sun‑bright.

On a strange impulse, she parts her lips, as if a spirit tugged a thread:

"…Light up, Night—"

Creak.

The door slides open like a lid.

Yekase swallows the rest, stone‑hard.

"Who goes there?"

"Doctor, your friends trust too easily. I said I was your senior, and they let me in, like sparrows opening the gate."

—The wild culprit appears!

Yekase snaps: "Look what you did! Your breakthrough over my tech was this—using Flash Energy's most basic trait to hijack someone else's mech into a frenzy. Try that downtown, and the consortium gets crushed by the higher orgs the next day!"

Jiang Bailu bows her head through the storm and only answers after a beat, voice thin as mist: "We're running out of chances. I got anxious… and I knew you were on an isolated island, so I chose that tactic…"

"What are you rushing for? I told you—I'm right here. If you need me, just come. Why must it only count if I return to the org?"

"But at the start, you vanished without a word…"

…Yekase can't refute that; the arrow lands.

"I truly learned. The final Zec won't trouble anyone."

"Troubling me is fine then…"

"And for your current condition, I brought a gift as apology."

"…?"

Something's off. A bad wind rises.

"Flat on your back, certain bodily tasks get tricky. So I brought you—"

The blanket lifts, moon‑soft, then gone.

Her boxer shorts slide off, a ribbon cut.

"What are you doing?! I'm going to scream!"

Jiang Bailu pulls a ball from her lab coat and pops it into Yekase's mouth.

"—Mm?!"

"I know you care about your poise. And now you're such a cute girl; you can't lose face in front of others."

She produces a second tool—a pear‑shaped black control rod. She slicks it with her tongue. She fits it to the rear core interface below Yekase, smooth as oil.

"With this, you won't worry about waste discharge. This little darling has a micro‑generator—it burns waste into energy. Very eco‑friendly, right?"

Yekase lets out an unnameable shriek and thrashes, a fish on deck.

"Besides the pressurized‑water‑reactor bundle, I brought a single rod for the light‑water reactor. Same principle."

The second slides home, clicking like a pebble.

"As for how to use the energy from both reactors—you've guessed. It's to keep your muscles from atrophying while bedridden."

Who wants to work out those muscles!

"Silence means consent."

"Mmm‑mm‑mm!"

"So you were eager? Makes sense. With your temperament, you probably haven't explored since changing. Curiosity drives progress—allow me to assist."

A third humming missile mounts in place, buzzing like a cicada.

Boxers and blanket are eased back into place, clouds covering moon.

"I'll tell them I brought you a Flash Energy device to solve awkward needs—handles waste, adds warming massage. They shouldn't touch it. I'll await your review."

Jiang Bailu removes the ball from Yekase's mouth.

"You… f—" Yekase tries to curse, but sweetness slips out like honey.

She hasn't been without curiosity these months. She tried once or twice in secret—but this intensity dwarfs those, storm to drizzle.

How's it like this? Strip out tech and hardware…

Damn. Maybe Arcane Sensitivity has other senses baked in.

"Looks like you're satisfied."

"I'm not, not…"

Jiang Bailu, mission complete, leaves cheerful as a lark. After a while, Ling Yi comes back in.

"Doctor, you're glowing! Is the massage comfy?"

"Sure…" Yekase abandons thought, shedding a coat.

Ling Yi sits by the bed and "keeps watch," actually fishing on her phone, screen light like fireflies.

Yekase starts to pant, breath like surf.

"Too hot? Want the AC on?"

"On…"

Ling Yi clicks the AC, then drifts back to her phone, a river of scrolling.

Yekase cries out suddenly, a spark.

"What is it?"

"Th‑that, it hit a really nice spot! My fatigue's gone… eek?!"

"This massager's that strong? No wonder—your senior's as skilled and gentle as you. She said she'd handle your sponge baths these days! How should I address her? Senior Uncle? Senior Aunt?"

"Don't… get tangled with her…"

A long half hour passes before the storm calms. Several times her vision washes white like snowfall; she doesn't dare cry out, swallowing sound with pain.

"Ling Yi, head back and rest early. Tell the others I want a few quiet days to feel the essence of Sorcery and sketch your new form. Don't come unless it's mealtime."

"Got it!"

At new form, Ling Yi brightens like a lantern and vows to guard the door, keeping others from breaking Yekase’s seclusion.

The human‑shaped color block waves and slips out, door closing like a shell.

"Hoo…"

She can finally cry out—no, wrong! Focus!

If she could move, she'd slap herself, a thunderclap.

"Let me try this—Light up, Nightlight Torch!"