Without noticing, Yekase sealed her true ideal like a moth in amber and became a street tinkerer who grinned whenever a little gadget clicked.
She even weighed mechs by “is it useful,” like counting rain by buckets instead of clouds.
Happy? Sure, a bright spark. Far happier than staring at humanity’s dusk and crying into the wind.
She didn’t notice, but Mind Energy did, a silent judge behind a screen.
It shut its door to her—no crack of light, no hinge whisper.
The old Yekase wouldn’t have counted costs, uses, or sides. She held one truth like a noon star: she had to sit inside a twenty‑meter mech she herself forged.
That frame would mount at least four external thrusters. One beam saber, one solid blade. Turrets at head, shoulders, and waist that bite and bind.
Ammo bays that could spit for half an hour. Armor tough enough to punch solo through atmosphere, a shell like a falling meteor.
Lines as clean as wind over rice fields, paint that ran like storm silk. And a name that, spoken, flooded the body like thunder.
She’d call it “Luciferin.”
B‑666 “Luciferin.”
…
—Yekase opened her eyes.
The scorch across her body had ebbed, like embers going dark. All her Mind Energy and Flash Energy had been guided back to their proper streams.
She cupped her hands.
Ten fingers carved like pale jade crossed at her chest. In her palms, a flame burned quietly, meek as a tamed fox, unlike any Mind Energy construct.
[Nightlight Torch]—Yekase ver.
“…Uh, how am I using this without transforming…”
Did the evolution gauntlet lower the activation threshold? She’d thought it was a placebo, yet here it worked. Magical Girl wasn’t special magic—just an external driver keeping your inner energy level high.
“I can’t feel my Mind Energy!” “Same here!” “What happened?”
Her classmates’ shouts yanked Yekase out of focus. She blinked awake and looked around into a field of wails like wind over grass.
“Looks like everyone’s Mind Energy suddenly isn’t responding. Was that you?” Ling Ya asked.
Yekase shook her head—then a thought struck like a bell. She snapped her gaze to the flame in her hands.
Was it this?
Both she and Ivaris had a finisher named Nightlight Torch. But the form and effect were different. Ivaris’s was a lance of high‑heat laser; Yekase’s looked like a harmless little campfire.
With that first guess, she studied the flame again. Her Flash Energy‑sharpened eyes finally caught its energy path. She didn’t see the nightmare of the whole class being drained.
Its route was simple, a quiet loop within itself, like water circulating in a koi pond.
No plunder, no breakage. It merely invited nearby energy to resonate with it, and in that chorus, other energies stopped answering their owners.
Yekase withdrew her hands and shook the flame apart like dandelion seeds. She slipped off the evolution gauntlet, tossed it back into the box, and melted into the crowd, fading from Instructor Zhang’s sight like mist.
“Doctor, what was that just now…?”
Ling Yi had used the small uproar to escape the onlookers and slid back to Yekase’s side.
“Most likely a trump card.”
“Uh, I don’t get it… is it like a silence field?”
Yekase nodded. “Close enough. Doesn’t it feel very me? Ban skills, then roll for persuasion checks.”
“What kind of ‘you’?”
“Quiet. Elegant. Rational.”
“That’s your self‑image, Doctor?”
“Huh?”
They stared at each other, two sparrows on a wire.
No way. Yekase had thought she was reasonably rational. Had her “Doctor” image vanished among these familiar faces? Was she totally outshined by Professor F?
“…What am I in your eyes, exactly?”
Ling Yi thought hard for near a minute, caution in her gaze like a cat at a doorway.
“Mm…”
Her eyes skittered away, embarrassed. Then she said,
“A berserker who charges an MS with a single blade, bare and blazing?”
“…”
Yekase almost dropped to her knees.
She cut the topic—pure fake news—and dragged Ling Yi aside.
“There’s a girl in Class 2‑1 named Tōdō Moka. The one who picked up a gauntlet with me. Keep an eye on her.”
“Oh, YaYa told me. Their class rep. Simple, kind… What’s wrong?”
“She has a dark persona, called Heavenly Prison King.”
“—?”
Ling Yi’s face said, What are you even talking about.
“You’re thinking the Heavenly Prison King has long brown hair and a stronger build than Tōdō, right?”
Rapid nods.
“Mind Energy can reshape the body. That’s her disguise.”
“But we’re at school. She shouldn’t start anything… right?”
Yekase shook her head, then went on. “Heavenly Prison King’s real name is Mikara Aira. At the water park, I gave her a nickname—Mira.”
“You two are that close? And that nickname is basically the same!”
“Heavenly Prison King thought so too. It’s flimsy, almost useless. Only three of us there knew it—me, Pu Lu, and the Heavenly Prison King.”
Then Yekase smiled the way Ling Yi knew, a chessboard already open behind her eyes. “Know what that means? The moment that mouth says ‘Mira,’ the match is mine. She thinks she caught proof from the water park, not knowing she’s exposed herself.”
“…As expected of the Doctor!”
“But fishing draws attention. Tell someone like her ‘being present proves nothing’ and she won’t listen. She may strike soon. We need more bite…”
“I’m stronger now. This time I definitely—”
“So, I’m going to reunite you with your brother immediately.”
…
…
“…Eh?”
“Your brother, Ling Nuo Si, has already been brought back by me.”
“Eh—?!”
From that reaction, she must have recalled part of Ling Nuo Si, the way a shoreline returns under tide—her Mind Energy talent was that high.
“Ah,” Yekase sighed, like steam from tea. “I meant to wait for a better moment, and arrange a meeting in a way people would accept. We don’t have that luxury now.”
“Revive? You mean you revived a person?!”
“Not exactly revive. I pulled him back into the present world,” Yekase corrected.
Ling Yi took a long time to process. Only when Instructor Zhang called a break did she finally catch up. “…Doctor, is your true body a blue robot cat?”
“No. I’m the brute who charges an MS with a single blade.”
“Sorry, I’m sorry!”
Yekase folded her arms and turned her head, refusing the apology like a mountain refusing rain.
“The Doctor’s talent runs like a river, plans like chess across worlds, mind like a blade, foresight like a lantern—uh… resourceful, flawless in stratagem—uh… both brain and brawn, heroic and swift, beauty that dims the moon, grace that stands tall—”
“Alright, alright. How did ‘standing graceful’ and ‘eclipsing the moon’ sneak in? Even your flattery leans sideways!”
“But Doctor, you are beautiful.”
“I don’t need you to say it.”
“So annoying!”
But this kind of confidence felt like her—Ling Yi wrapped her up and nuzzled in protest, like a cat claiming a sunbeam.
“Stop, stop! What are you doing!”
Even with Flash Energy reinforcing her, Yekase couldn’t break free. That grip was terrifying, like a smith’s vise. In the craft of tempering the body through battle, Ling Yi was undeniably her senior.
…Or maybe Yekase’s base stats were simply too low, and even buffed she couldn’t catch up…
In the end, she could only let Ling Yi rub and cling, helpless as a leaf in a brook.
“Lots of classmates are watching! If you don’t stop…”
A warm breath brushed Yekase’s earlobe, like a moth’s wing.
“—Eek?!”
Her cheeks flared red in a rush. It had to be… right, proximity to someone who just activated Mind Energy. Her Flash Energy was lighting up again!
“Ugh, enough! Celestial Speech, Oz Floating Disc!”
A transparent circular barrier bloomed between them at the last instant. Models overlaid. It squeezed Ling Yi out like two panes sliding shut.
“Whoa! What is this? An NT field?”
“That’s called an AT field.”
Yekase widened the gap at once and sprinted into the teaching building. With this many students, the instructor wouldn’t notice one missing. She’d spend the rest of class hiding in the small observatory—
“Yekase? Aren’t you in class?”
Liu RuoYuan stepped out from behind the corner.
…Busted.
As in student days, no matter the class, the homeroom teacher could appear from anywhere, silent as moonlight. It felt like she could be summoned as an Assassin.
“I just tried Mind Energy with that gauntlet, and my head feels off. I was going to the infirmary.”
Yekase met Liu RuoYuan’s eyes and let the lie drift out, smooth as smoke.
“Mind Energy? It does seem dangerous, with flames on people and all. Do high schoolers really need to learn this…”
Liu RuoYuan sounded mildly unhappy with the course, and the topic slid like a cart on rails.
“I’ll walk you.”
She reached out to steady Yekase.
“Thanks, Teacher…”
Fine. Napping in the infirmary or napping in the observatory—same moon, different window.
They walked the hallway slowly, footsteps like soft chalk, heading for the infirmary.
“Back to school after a long break. How does it feel?” Liu RuoYuan asked.
“Pretty boring.”
If she catered too much, it would feel fake. Yekase spoke her truth, cool as a well.
“Classes are dull. That general tech just now was a little fun.”
“Ahaha, you’re very smart, so feeling bored is normal…” Liu RuoYuan couldn’t quite catch the thread, words floating like leaves.
Huh? No script ready? Did you expect a “I love it” kind of answer? Yekase was shocked at how naive her sister still felt.
She was a teacher now. If she couldn’t handle a “bad student,” how would she shepherd a class…
But maybe it was exactly this gentleness that made her want to protect Ling Yi, who reminded her of her sister.
The awkwardness lasted only a breath. They entered the infirmary, explained the situation to the duty teacher. Yekase took the bed, while Liu RuoYuan settled into the attendant’s chair like a sparrow on a branch.
“The afternoon looks boring too. I might sleep here until dismissal…”
“But you’re smiling.”
A fingertip reached over and poked Yekase’s cheek, light as rain.
“As a teacher, I shouldn’t say this. But even if schoolwork feels like 1+1 to you, even if you don’t want to listen, I hope you’ll sit in class and whisper with friends, not spend the whole day alone… just don’t do it too often!”
“Socializing isn’t necessary, is it…”
“It is! I want to be your friend too. Don’t want to do homework? Subject teacher too annoying? Tell me anything.”
“Mm…”
Maybe I should tell you my real identity.
Just kidding.
