Charlotte watched Yekase’s smile sit like a lacquered mask, her twin gem eyes fixed on the road ahead; she hunted for a crack in that glaze, and found nothing.

"Honestly, vampires should be blond or silver-haired, plus red eyes. By looks alone you’re seven-tenths there."

"The hero speaks true."

"But my eyes are red and no one calls me a vampire. I’ve got one… two friends who turned from human into vampire, and they don’t look like your textbook nobles at all."

Yekase drifted into thought, her mood a still pond; maybe her manner was too common, while vampires wore aristocracy like a mantle, so she felt out of place.

Charlotte’s pride flared like a paper kite in wind. "Hmph, later-turned half-bloods… who’s their sire?"

"No idea. Some True Ancestor. Labyrinth City dug out his heart-blood and handed it to me; I passed it on to them," Yekase said, casual as drizzle.

"...Eh?"

"What?"

"True Ancestor?"

"Yup."

"I have overstepped—!"

Charlotte dropped into a tiger‑drop kneel, bowing toward a True Ancestor who wasn’t there, like a pilgrim to an empty altar.

"If you’re this timid, don’t swagger in the first place."

"N‑no, it’s just… Mother said kids who know when to back down live longer!"

"Your mother’s right."

Better find a chance to toss this soft-brained kid back to Labyrinth City, or Yekase felt she’d be pecked to death by a sparrow. She wasn’t Fujiwara Ningning, who’d sit still if you spooked her once; Charlotte knew Yekase could beat her half dead, yet still dove right into her face—pure brat. At least she knew to back down after the leap; maybe her only virtue.

With this unplanned shadow trailing her, Yekase planned to find an inn and lock Charlotte in, then hand the apples to Alice and call it a day. Jiang Bailu had gone to Labyrinth City for advanced study; Ling Yi was still filing into Ivalice; without even a paralegal at her side, she had to dig into Mysidia alone, a mountain of work looming like stormclouds.

She tallied tasks in her head when a strand of familiar Chinese song brushed her ear like incense smoke.

"—What kind of fish, what kind of salt, what kind of pot makes rice glossy and cling—"

"—How big the fish, how rich the trotter, to chew with oily joy—"

The sound spilled from an East Asian cinema by the roadside, neon buzzing like cicadas. At the door, a poster splashed with fake blood screamed, "Far East Latest! Yuri‑leaning horror! We’ll scare snot out of you, ship you into tears!" The title read, "Sadako vs. Kayako."

…You can ship that?

Across the way, another door bore a pastel-soft poster: "Daily Life With Your Pet Fish ~ Deepen bonds through feeding ~" Titled, "The Thousand-Hand Divine Shark."

Yekase’s sleeve got tugged, a small anchor on silk.

"?"

"I… I want to watch…"

"Then go watch."

"But I… I’ve got no money."

"…Tell the ticket clerk to put it on Alicia Alicia’s tab."

Not knowing what that meant, Charlotte took it like sunlight breaking through fog; she bounced into the theater, light feet like sparrows.

Yekase turned and ran, wind at her heels. She wasn’t here to babysit; call Labyrinth City and consider it kindness done.

She ran all the way back to Alice’s house, hugged the paper bag of apples like a warm brick, and slipped inside. Alice was writing on parchment, her quill dipping into the ink like a heron; she saw Yekase, stabbed the quill into the bottle with a faint clink, and asked, cool as glass:

"Had a nice stroll. What did you bring?"

"The apples you wanted, Master." The mask answered in her voice; Yekase set the apples on the desk and waved, ready to slip out like dusk.

"—Lymriel."

"What are your orders, Master?"

Her feet pinned to the floor like nails. Her body turned back, a compass forced north.

"Plug the stuffing’s mouth. Set the lower half to vibration mode. Face the corner until eight p.m."

"What the hell are you—mmph?!"

The maid doll walked to the corner and stood, obedient as a shrine statue. Hands folded, knees together, chin up, chest high, she wore a frozen smile like porcelain. A hum pulsed below, and faint whimpers leaked near the faceplate; ignore the small noises, and she was just a life-size lady figurine waiting on a shelf.

"You like spending my money, don’t you?"

"Mmm-mmm."

She meant, "It was fun."

"You’ve heard of Anti–Infinite Power metal. Bad luck for you—this shell is made of it everywhere except the spots cut for arrays. Don’t think you can wriggle out on your own."

Who are you fooling? I’ve already dyed and altered the hands; the rest is labor. And about arrays—give me a minute and I’ll rewrite them for quick release, watch me.

"However…"

Alice’s tone turned, soft as evening shade. "I didn’t expect you to notice and break the subconscious sway of Runic Words by yourself." Her voice eased; her face rippled with a small thought; she tapped Yekase’s temples like knocking on a door. The doll’s eyeplates sealed like shutters; sight fell away like night.

Alice explained nothing. She went back to her desk, the quill skating like a swan across still water.

In the dark, pale glyphs streamed into Yekase’s mind like fireflies after rain. She didn’t know the script, yet meanings rose on their own, like tide. This was Glory; that, Foundation; another, Victory; and the simplest, Beauty.

They were the four runes of the Inverted Tree. Quanta No. 6, 7, 8, 9.

"A Grand Rune’s concept breaks what matter can bear, so only replication will do," Alice’s voice chimed in the gloom like a bell.

Why a lesson now? Grateful for the Inverted Tree, sure, but the setup felt wrong, a stage with the lamps blown.

Yekase endured the odd vibration like a reed in wind, standing elegant and stiff as a pole. In the dark and hush, she tasted the ocean inside those four runes.

Runic Words in practice has two roads: replication and extraction. Pull ‘fire’ from flame, or use ‘fire’ to ignite flame. For a Grand Rune, the data’s a mountain too massive to download; only the first road walks.

And replication demands extra gates. First: the caster must know what they’re asking.

No good. Keep this up and I’ll fall into idealism. Then again, observing for Flash Energy is idealist too. Worldview. I need—aaagh—

She struggled like a netted fish; the shell barely swayed, a leaf trembling in a breeze.

Right. Count Fibonacci to pass the time.

Why Fibonacci?

No idea. Just count.

1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13—

At eight p.m., the timed locks thawed like ice cracking. The corner statue woke in a twitch; Yekase tried to sit down like a cut rope, but failed. The exoskeleton held her up; her breath ran wild like horses.

She’d stacked endurance high in recent days; right on time, it vanished. The ‘development’ stayed, unrelated to evolution, and so remained—hard to say cleanly. Her future felt a shade darker, storm edging the horizon.

Alice wasn’t in the room; Yekase didn’t bother to find her. She stepped out into air like cool silk—

Ling Yi and Charlotte stood outside, two cats on a sill.

"...?"

Huh? You two? Why?

"Doctor, you finally wrapped your research?" Ling Yi asked, easy as a breeze. She held a bowl of takoyaki, speared one, and popped it into Charlotte’s mouth.

Feeding, even? What a pair.

"Mmph, well done, human. When I gather my thralls, I’ll consider you first!"

Charlotte spoke around the bite, pride puffed like a rooster.

Yekase dropped a karate chop on her head; the takoyaki shot out like a cork.

"How do you two know each other?" she asked, temper cooled like tea.

Ling Yi eyed Yekase’s shell look, curiosity bright as dawn. "Didn’t you say you came to Mysidia to see that Alicia Alicia Alicia person? I finished my Ivalice paperwork and came to hang out. I asked for directions and ran into her. She said she’s your defeated servant, here to take orders, so I brought her."

"Two Alicias. Not three."

Ling Yi tucked the takoyaki into Charlotte’s hands, then went hands-on with Yekase, fingers roaming like a craftsman.

"Wow. This texture…"

"Don’t. Hey—"

Dragon‑claw hands snapped onto the doll’s headlights, quick as lightning.

"Where are you touching?!"

"Does this spot feel anything?"

"It does! So stop— ngh?!"

Yekase had been bound and edged for hours; the pace stabilized, habit set in. No release; in the last ten minutes she even started editing the shell’s clothing array.

But in that one field she was a novice; the progress bar kept climbing, faithful as tide. Her body held a hair‑trigger; a touch, and she’d cry out.

"Oh—" Ling Yi’s look turned knowing, sly as a fox; she doubled her inspection, both hands busy.

Damn it, Jiang Bailu, how much did you teach her?!

Yekase could barely stand, saved by the shell’s brace; the mask hid a face so red it could bleed.

"Calm down— mm— I get it. You’re being memetically contaminated by the Dragon rune— ah— Remember your original self— ah!"

Charlotte stared blankly, a deer in a clearing; the takoyaki on her stick slipped from her fingers and, plip, fell back into the box.