"I'll cut a path, like a blade through wet reeds."

Ling Nuo Si stepped to the front; small as a pine in snow, she still looked rock‑solid.

"I'll reverse the wounds, like rewinding film."

Power restored, Zhang Wendao drew a mechanical staff, twin to the one Ivaris used in the ruins, metal gleaming like a hawk’s spine.

"I'll wait for your good news, like a lantern left in a corner."

Yekase sat down by the wall, curling like a cat in shadow.

"Can't you fight?" Ling Nuo Si arched a brow like a drawn bow. "The Twenty Second Squad’s logistics… let me think."

"I just wanted to slack off! Fine, I’ll guard the flank and net the strays, like a rake in shallow water."

A cold bead of sweat slid; Yekase sprang up, nerves tight as wire. So sharp—nine years asleep, edge still bright like a whetted blade.

"That’s more like it," like thunder rumbling agreement.

So it was a trick to pull her into the yoke, like hooking a carp in muddy water.

Then Ling Nuo Si stood there, watching what craft Yekase would spin, like a hawk watching field mice.

Start with abilities, she figured, like opening the main gate first.

Still guessing, of course—like feeling for stones in a river.

"Fine, guess away—" Yekase pulled out the [Legion] mask and clipped it on, like donning a second iron face.

A jacket dropped from above like a gull; she raised her arms, shrugged into it like morning routine, then rolled her shoulders till it settled like skin.

"…"

Ling Nuo Si saw nothing, a blank pond. Of course—back in 2012, "Mechbreaker" wasn’t even a word in the sky.

"Let’s move. I’m bad at frontal fights, and I just crawled off a hospital bed; you’ll have to cover me," like carrying a paper‑thin body.

"Leave it to me!" Zhang Wendao’s voice flared like a torch.

Ling Nuo Si nodded and stepped toward the mouth of the alley, like a swift stepping onto wind—

"Hey, hold up," like a bell tugged by hand.

"What now?" like a blade paused mid‑swing.

"Prep work. You two, cover your ears, tight as drum‑skins." Yekase fished a trinket from her pocket and tossed it lightly, words like flicked pebbles.

"The answer? A hypnotic audio!" Her grin cut like a crescent.

"Track selection… [Lament]!" Like rain tapping old windows.

She hit play and lobbed it beyond the alley, like a silver stone.

A bullet tore the night like a hawk and smacked the MP3.

But Yekase had bulletproofed even her everyday MP3; the track spilled over the crowd like mist and slipped into every ear.

Voices fell like drizzle: "What is—?!" "I feel so emo…" "Suddenly want to cry…" "No dreams, no hope…" "Mom…"

It kicked in, like a spark catching dry grass.

"Then add this," like a second wave.

Yekase unkindly pulled a custom smoke bomb and cracked it on the street like a stone egg.

At once, smoke thicker than smog rolled in, blotting every eye like winter fog.

Thugs already crying had tears catch dust; the slurry stung their eyes like ash, and they dropped, faces covered, rolling.

"This is Concrete Force!" Her shout rang like a builder’s oath.

Yekase dove into the dust like a swallow.

"Dirty tactics?!" The slated vanguard, Ling Nuo Si, rushed in after her like thunder chasing lightning.

Zhang Wendao knew Yekase’s underhanded toolkit; she didn’t flinch, and shadowed close like a tethered kite.

Yekase cut through the crowd and scooped the fallen MP3, moving like smoke turned water; she led the two out like a stream.

"If we need speed, I’ve got a speed form," she said, like oil catching flame.

"Huh?! Magical Girls can switch forms now?" Yekase blinked, like myths getting upgrades.

Yekase noticed the changer at Ling Nuo Si’s waist hadn’t vanished like Zhang Wendao’s; it sat there like a belt.

She drew a red hard card from the changer’s inner side and slid it back in, reversed, like turning a talisman.

"Fantasy Turnstar—'Wuche‑2'!" Her call blazed like a crest.

Red light spilled from the changer, not Flash Energy’s glassy hue, but the cheap glow of a simple bulb.

At this moment, something uncanny stirred inside ZEROS, like gears whispering under skin.

"You narrate yourself?" Yekase shot back, like a critic tossing a quip.

Under the bargain red glow, her blue skirt picked up bright red, flaring into radial neon lines, turning into red‑blue stripes like comet tails.

It was just effects; the stripe layout was clearly pre‑designed, not random dye, like patterns on a kite.

Her boots split open at the ankles, each unfurling a pair of wings like silver leaves.

"That’s very Magical Girl," Yekase murmured, like ribbon and starlight.

Under Yekase’s stare, the four wings spun like fan blades, becoming four fast‑whirling white disks, shape lost like snow in a storm.

"So it’s not just for show?!" Her doubt flashed like a trick blade proving steel.

"…?!"

Breath—froze, like ice on a river.

Time seemed to slow, like syrup thickening.

No, not seemed—Yekase felt her body and the surrounding smoke all drag sluggish, like molasses.

In a ten‑frame world, she opened her mouth to ask Ling Nuo Si what happened, yet no word fell till the instigator took her hand, like a clock unpaused.

"Uh?!" The sound dropped like a pebble in a pond.

Her senses snapped back to normal, like sun breaking through cloud.

Ling Nuo Si clasped Zhang Wendao’s other hand; the three formed a line like beads on a string. Touch her, and the field‑wide slow falls away.

"What was that?" Yekase asked, like an arrow asking its bow.

"The Wuche‑2 form’s unique skill: [Heavy Acceleration]. Within five meters, time runs at one‑tenth normal, and the zone moves with me, like a bubble."

"Say you had that sooner! I wasted a smoke bomb," she grumbled, like tossing coin into a well.

"Huh? If you’re Twenty Second Squad, you should see me pop this often," Ling Nuo Si said, like a sunrise routine.

"My memory’s broken; I don’t remember," Yekase replied, like pages torn from a book.

It sounded like a lazy excuse, yet Yekase said it with iron calm, and you instinctively believed, like hearing a temple bell.

"Talk in a safe spot. [Heavy Acceleration] is short; hold tight," Ling Nuo Si urged, like riders grabbing a rail.

Half‑understanding, Yekase hugged her slender arm, like clutching a willow…

"Uwoah!" The cry skidded like wind hitting a cliff.

A surge of heavy G hit; Yekase’s body tipped from upright to sideways, feet leaving earth like a kite cut loose.

Ling Nuo Si rode the four wing‑disks underfoot and blitzed away like rollerblades on moonlight.

Zhang Wendao hung like a wet shirt on a line, yet stayed quiet; maybe she’d long been used to it, like tide to shore.

Speed waxed as theirs waned, time near‑stopped; in a blink they shook the hunters and halted in an alley, twin to the last like mirrors.

"Time out. That’s far enough," she said, like a referee’s whistle.

With Ling Nuo Si’s tireless voice, the scene around them slipped back to normal, like fog lifting.

Yekase swept twice with her Infinite Power vision, front and back like hawk eyes, then let her heart ease. "Clear."

"…Hah." The breath rose like steam from a cup.

Zhang Wendao tossed the staff; the slim rod vanished the moment it kissed ground, like a needle into water. She dropped her transformation, her apparent age falling from thirteen to ten like leaves.

"Honestly, that barely looks different," Yekase muttered, like two grains of sand.

The bigger shift was Ling Nuo Si; she unbuckled the belt, flames—smaller echoes of her transform—wrapped her, and she became a young man.

After these expected ripples, it was late; time to think about where the two would sleep, like birds seeking eaves.

"Ling Nuo Si, got a place to stay?" Yekase asked, like knocking on a door.

"Sleeping in the underground passage now," he said, like a fox in a culvert.

"Don’t say that with a smile. Zhang Wendao, where’ve you slept these days in Twin Towers City?" she pressed, like counting nights on fingers.

"Internet café," Zhang said, like a neon cave.

"Which café?! They let a ten‑year‑old in?" Yekase snapped, like a guard forgetting his post.

"I told the admin I’d been adult for ages; he let me sleep in a back booth," she said, like slipping past a gate.

"He pitied you," Yekase sighed, like rain on a stray cat.

"Damn, these two are synchronized," she thought, like twin drums.

Yekase felt her temples throb like little hammers.

"Forget it; crash at my place for now. It’s small, but three can squeeze in like sardines."

"I’ve held that place two‑three months; time to shift base like a snake shedding skin. I’m not broke—next time I’ll rent bigger."

"Won’t it be awkward?" Ling Nuo Si asked, like a leaf testing wind.

"I don’t care. If you stay in your transformed little‑girl look, space gets roomier," Yekase said, like folding blankets.

"Weigh—"

"Change at home! Want to get stopped on the street?" she cut in, like a gate slamming.

"Oh," he answered, like a pebble nodding.

"Why does her smarts swing high and low? Ling Yi‑tier or a notch up, Crimson Field‑tier? With heredity in mind… Ling Ya got spun in circles by Yekase before, like leaves in a whirl."

"I despair—this family’s IQ is a fog," she thought, like mist that never lifts.

"Parents from the Sinister Organization, three siblings, heroes of different stripes—you’re a whole clan of loyal fire," she mused, like a lantern line.

"Sigh… let’s head back," she said, like a tide pulling home.

"The road’s rough… ties around me knot thicker; maybe I should seriously consider Professor F’s bulletin board—no, the underground bar project," she mused, like roots seeking water.

Night draped down like velvet.

On streets awash in neon and wine‑red glow, a young man, a teen girl, and a tiny doll‑like girl walked abreast, like siblings out for a stroll. It was a scene that draws a knowing smile, like warm light in winter.

Relaxed, Yekase’s mind wandered like smoke and snagged a question she’d meant to ask:

"Hey, Zhang Wendao, didn’t Dr Ika dislike that nickname? How did he come to accept it?" She tossed the words like a stone rolled back.

"Did he just go with the flow?" Yekase doubted it; her half‑hidden memories whispered something big happened then, like thunder behind hills.

"How did he accept it? Eh, too long ago; I forgot," Zhang said, like an old page faded.

"I still remember," Ling Nuo Si cut in, like a bell chiming first.

"For [us] asleep outside reality, it felt fresh, like it happened half a year ago. I remember because…" His voice creaked open like a spring unsealed.

He thought a moment, then spoke certain, like setting a stone.

"It was Ivaris. She told Ika, 'Is that nickname short for Icarus? It sounds like my name.' So he accepted it. Their air was always good; if that tragedy hadn’t struck, they’d likely have kept on, becoming a couple everyone called loving," like two stars drawing close.

"Right, right! That was it. My girlfriends thought it was too sweet," Yekase said, like honey spilling.

"But, Yekase, why’d you suddenly ask about Ika—" Ling Nuo Si began, like a drumbeat cut short.

They reached consensus, then noticed the asker hadn’t replied; both turned, like sunflowers to a sound.

Yekase had stopped a meter behind, like a shadow lagging.

Her face held no expression; only a few bright streaks of reflected light, like wet tracks under streetlamp glow.