Pressed by the weight of stares, Jiang Bailu stepped onto the dais, while Yekase hauled a basketball-sized lump of pig iron from the teleport crate and kneaded it with Flash Energy like storm-wet clay.

After the kneading, the iron’s dry skin turned glassy, waxed like a moon; she stretched it into a sheet, wrapped it around Jiang Bailu’s belly like a cold tide.

Ends met and locked, forming a corset that cinched her waist to sixteen inches like a willow stem bound in silk.

Then it crept both upward and downward, a frost-line spreading, folding her whole body into iron night.

Yekase nodded, eyes bright as flint, and pulled out three items Jiang Bailu knew too well, like ghosts returned.

“This goes back to its rightful owner,” she said, voice cool as snow.

“Whoa, don’t!” Jiang blurted, a sparrow startled from a branch.

“Don’t do to others what you wouldn’t take yourself!” Her protest fell like a pebble skipping water.

“The Doctor obviously likes it!” The retort came quick, like sunlight flashing on steel.

Yekase snorted, a cold spark, lifted Jiang’s skirt, and slotted three cylindrical reactors into place like stakes into earth.

The iron sheet flowed over them like tar, sealed them tight, and even pressed inward like a firm tide.

Five minutes later, a statue stood on the lawn, still as a cliff in dawn fog.

Its face was sculpted after Yekase’s own, to appease Jiang Bailu’s operating system, eyes turned over the right shoulder like a hawk glancing back.

A voluminous robe hid the curious apparatus below like heavy clouds, yet bared the “Northern Hemisphere” like a bright hill.

Her left hand held a gun like thunder trapped in iron, her right raised a flag like wind caught in cloth.

It was the stance of Liberty Leading the People, a painting born of smoke and fire.

On the plaque she carved: For the July Revolution, a Victory Goddess. —Jiang Bailu.

She stepped back two paces, gaze sweeping like a river, satisfied with the craft in her hands.

She returned to the base, listened to the humming within like a hive, and said, “Vampires don’t starve; you might even find this wrapping comfy, like a cocoon.”

“…………” The silence sat like mist.

“In a few days I’ll bring staff and students to tour the island; you’ll greet them like a gate-guardian.”

“…………” The hush stayed, a stone in water.

Yekase dusted her hands like snapping shut a book, left the statue alone, and slipped back to the villa under soft sun.

Rice Rice had already fetched the milk tea during the bustle, round eyes gleaming like marbles; her body puffed and shifted like a balloon, becoming Yekase No. 2.

“Why’d you turn human again?” Yekase asked, snagging her passionfruit double cannon like a pirate grabbing treasure.

Rice Rice lifted her chin, chest proud like a tiny general: “I wanna play video games!”

“Again? Take a breather, nap a bit, like a cat in warm shade?”

“So annoying!” The word snapped like a twig.

Yekase and Ivaris traded looks, two stones under still water.

Ivaris shrugged, a leaf in wind, as if to say it wasn’t her business.

Friggin— the one who taught it games was you… She paused, thought flowering like smoke. Could it be some leftover Yekase personality from the exchange event? Freshly back, and it feels like they already have a child tugging at sleeves.

Yekase sprawled onto Ivaris’s bean bag, two bodies tucked together like stacked cushions.

“A-Yuan and Mom?” Her voice floated like a kite string.

“Off to Mysidia, should be back soon…” Ivaris pushed, a ripple in silk. “You’re on my hair!”

“I’m not just on it, I’m gonna sniff,” Yekase said, impish as a fox.

She scooped a tuft of silver hair like moon-thread, pressed it to her face, and her chest, left open like an unlocked gate, was seized by two palms, turned into an ergonomic joystick.

“Eek?!” The yelp popped like a bubble.

Then they tumbled laughing, a pair of playful otters under summer light.

Rice Rice kept turfing the map, colors flooding like paint tides, never turning her head.

Liu RuoYuan pushed the door and stepped in, her surprise flickering like a lantern when she spotted Yekase on the sofa; she glanced at the yard and asked, “Hold up—if you’re here, who’s inside the statue?”

“The statue,” Yekase said, poker-flat as a pond at night.

“I don’t buy it! Someone who lets you bully them… hmm, such a person shouldn’t exist,” Liu mused, her quick mind snagged like thread on a thorn.

“Casually putting my rank so low?!” Yekase bristled, feathers up like a ruffled bird.

Whether she dropped the name Luciferin de Finxi in Europe or Mechbreaker in Huaxia, plenty would shiver, some would bolt like rabbits—after so many incidents solved and inventions forged, she felt her image should loom like a mountain.

Liu RuoYuan and Ivaris both wore gentle smiles, silent as moonlight, watching Yekase puff her chest like a proud sparrow.

“…No, say something! Even a no! Don’t look at me with that pity,” she cried, a bell in a quiet temple.

“You know it yourself, right…” Liu said, calm as lake glass.

“Even kids in the Slackfish Cult know it,” Ivaris added, dry as autumn reed.

Yekase couldn’t take the sting; she snatched her milk tea and bolted like a deer through brush.

She ran in one breath to Arcadia, wind tugging her like a banner on a mast.

On the old city’s broad white-stone avenues, beyond familiar Sidonia dragonfolk, partner researchers, and Lu Yao’s adopted orphans, new students sprouted like spring shoots.

Right—Beelzebub had said today was Arcadia Engineering Academy’s first intake day, a tide rolling in.

Yekase slipped into the reporting crowd like a fish into current and flowed toward the Academy’s gates.

As one of three founders, she should speak—paint the future of Infinite Power, spur study like a drumbeat—but the other two were city-lords, stage-worn and steady, so she wouldn’t climb up to stumble.

Part of it was pure laziness, a cat curling in sun.

And a last small reason: her role-play itch blossomed like night jasmine.

Sneak into her own Academy as a normal student—taste quiet youth, skip homework and exams, keep the nectar and toss the dregs—just thinking it felt like cool rain.

But first, one small knot had to be checked, so her heart could settle like dust on stone.

She sipped milk tea, a sweet tide, pulled out her phone, and dialed a number near the bottom like knocking on an old door.

[Midday nap. What is it?] The text flickered like fireflies.

“Master, you’re the avatar of the World Tree, aren’t you?” Her voice threaded out like incense.

[…]

The silence was a cloud swallowing the moon; she knew she’d struck true.

“We fought Alice so hard we felled the World Tree and split the Golden Apple; a baby came out, with brows like yours,” she said, words tumbling like pebbles.

[I don’t understand a word—] The reply was a gust against shutters.

“I tossed her into a wormhole, landing about six hundred years back beside the just-planted World Tree,” she said, clean as a blade.

[So it was you, brat?!] Thunder under the text.

“Yep, that was me!” She cut the call like snipping thread before Sandryon could erupt like a volcano.

And with that, the tangled skein lay smooth, combed like silk.

She felt light, a kite let go, even longed to lock herself into a maid automaton and help Ein build a council, drifting four years before returning to Huaxia.

But vanishing long and leaving this side untended pricked her like a thorn, so she set the thought down like a cooled coal.

She considered settling, then leaving Europe—classic post-war travel—two roads: fly to the moon to find Luzhixing, or become a Lilim and slip back to Huaxia; yet the Lantern Festival incident was only half a year behind, blockades and surveillance tight as frost, travel stiff as frozen reeds.

All told: either stay and keep farming like patient rain, or play beyond Eurasia like a migrating bird.

“Doctor!” The shout snapped like a twig.

Ling Yi slapped her shoulder from behind like a clap of thunder, and Yekase jolted.

“You scared me! Why are you here?” Her breath fluttered like a sparrow.

“Today’s Academy reporting day, so we paused classes to tour,” Ling Yi said, flashing a V like a gull in flight.

She sidled close, voice low as evening wind: “Doctor, for our Access mode, wanna name the form together?”

“Just call it Access, right?” Her answer was lazy sun.

“No! Otherwise captions will read ‘Flash Blade Princess uses Access Key to transform into Access form’… that’s lame, like stale bread,” Ling Yi snapped, a fresh blade on whetstone.

Uh… fair point, like a bell toll.

A year ago, if Ling Yi spoke of public image, Yekase would’ve called it dream mist; now it was brick and mortar.

She did care about public image, especially these fine-grained labels; otherwise she wouldn’t have recited “Singing Wrecking Lady” word for word at the execution speech, each syllable a bead.

“Okay… then we say it together,” Yekase said, a ribbon tossed to wind.

“Okay, okay,” Ling Yi chimed, bright as glass.

Their sync was high enough to fuse the white sphere any time; on the avenue to Arcadia Engineering Academy, they shared a grin like twin moons and spoke in tandem.

“Type Linkage,” said Ling Yi, voice clear as spring.

“Type Exceed,” said Yekase, edge bright as steel.

…

…

“Where’s the sync?!” Their cry hit like twin bells.

They fight like mirrored blades; off now, like waves out of phase.

Yekase rolled her eyes like a turning wheel. “Then what?”

“This round doesn’t count. Again!” Ling Yi’s grin flashed like lightning.

“Fine,” Yekase said, a nod like a pebble.

Five seconds of hush fell like snow, then:

“Type Future!” said Ling Yi, dawn-bright.

“Type Miracle!” said Yekase, comet-bright.

…

…

Damn it. The word dropped like a stone.

Yekase jabbed at Ling Yi’s pitch: “Linkage got used by Linked Blades already; asset reuse looks bad, like patched cloth.”

Ling Yi shot back: “‘Miracle form’ is too tacky; even Access sounds cleaner, like clear water.”

Their bond wobbled like a bridge in wind, cords humming.

A ring of onlookers gathered like starlings, chatter fluttering about two black-haired girls glaring in the road’s center.

“…” “…” The pause rose like a blush.

Embarrassment spread like pink mist.

Huaxia folk love the middle path; Yekase yielded, a reed bending: “How about… we merge the other two?”

“Type Future Exceed…” Ling Yi said, the words landing like a pebble in a pond.

She had no objection; the ripples smoothed like silk.

Together, using the Access Key, they fuse and evolve into the strongest Flash Blade Princess, Code-05, linked to the Causal Horizon like a horizon line of light.

Yekase shook her head like a rattle: “Still no borrowing-power form… guess my fate is to lend, not borrow, like a well giving water.”

“Oh, speaking of lending, Rainbow and Winter Moon are already helping at Lu Yao’s orphanage,” Ling Yi said, voice soft as dusk. “Doctor, won’t you see them?”

…

“Who?” The question hung like a paper lantern.

“Real names Luo Hong and… and what was it…” Ling Yi squinted, thoughts fluttering like moths.

“Bai Youyue,” Yekase said, the name crisp as frost.

“Right, Bai Youyue,” Ling Yi nodded, a drop on leaf.

Yekase’s face twisted like hot wax: “When did they come back? It’s been so long, and I didn’t know at all!”

“Right after we beat Alice, they walked out through that door,” Ling Yi said, puzzled as a tilted sparrow. “You didn’t see? We thought you knew, just waiting for a good moment…”

“Walked out directly!” The words snapped like a twig.

Yekase rewound her trail like old film: after tossing little Sandryon into the wormhole, she collected Dorothy’s body like gathering fallen petals, then went to Paris to regroup with remaining private troops, crushing Church and Crown remnants like dry leaves.

She really hadn’t checked the door Ivaris flew from, a gap left like a forgotten window.

“So no one told you?!” Ling Yi gasped, eyes wide as moons.

“So no one told me!” Yekase echoed, a bell in an empty hall.