After flying for a while, Yekase stopped inside a cubic space.

On the cube’s wall, she saw the Ambition Divine Ship.

She looked left and saw the air-island’s side.

She looked up and saw the island from above.

She looked down and saw its belly.

“So this is… Hyperbody Space…”

On any other day, Yekase would start running Infinite Power tests. But she was spent, sick for home, her mind a knotted skein she couldn’t untangle.

…Back.

Luo Jie had brought her back.

She also pieced it together. Lu Yao had used that luminous cube—the one that held wandering-whale snacks—to cross time, then told Luo Jie about the Black Domain.

Luo Jie evolved from Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon into “Galaxy-Eyes Tachyon Dragon.”

She spent half a month flying more than 550 light-years to the Black Domain.

She broke through the firewall array, dove into the central black hole, found the fallen Yekase—then put everything in her hands.

She entrusted Yekase to the parallel counterpart of the “mother” who gave her life, just so Yekase could survive.

Then she chased the wreckage of Omega M and plunged toward a singularity with no return.

Yekase reeled. The last two days felt like a madcap film: a place beyond imagination, an adventure that swung between tight-wire tension and airy ease, ending with a life-on-the-line bid to snip off the sequel hooks. She made the call in three seconds, yet the aftershock still had her shaking.

She’d faced death eye to eye, then got yanked back across the river by someone she could never repay.

“Let’s go home.”

With tangled thoughts and bone-deep fatigue, Yekase took a step forward.

She lost balance and pitched down.

She squeezed her last drop of focus and Sorcery throughput, slapped a Levitation Spell on herself.

Her face hit first.

Then her arched hips and butt slid down, slow as syrup.

…

When she woke, she was on her own bed.

A jellyfish was circling like a pale lantern on the ceiling.

Liu RuoYuan and Ivaris leaned over her, one on either side.

“…?”

“You, huh…”

Liu RuoYuan poked her cheek. “Saved the world, did you? I won’t yell this time.”

A wrong-note feeling stabbed her. She slipped a hand under the blanket to her belly.

Flat.

“It—it’s gone?!”

She sprang up. Ivaris pressed her back down.

“Calm down and listen.”

Ivaris’s face was grave.

Yekase stared wide-eyed, as if she understood, and tears flooded out.

“My child—my child—!”

“Here.”

Ivaris stepped aside. A baby crib sat by the bed, bedding smooth as a lake at dawn.

“Eh?”

“It’s a girl. A regular doctor took a look. Said Ascenders aren’t in his scope, but he could tell she’s healthy. No signs of prematurity—besides, nobody gives birth at five months.”

“Eh, eh?”

“Your self-healing did the heavy lifting. Even the C-section didn’t need sutures.”

“Eh, eh, eh?”

Her surprised squeals woke the baby. The crib filled with wailing like a little storm.

“Ah, you woke her!” Ivaris rocked the crib, soothing with one hand, scolding Yekase with darting glances.

XiaoLei shouldered in right then. She lifted Rice Rice off her shoulder, tossed him into the hall, shut the door, and came to the bed. “How do you feel? Anything off?”

“Not really…”

Still stunned, but being an Ascender is awfully convenient—she couldn’t help feeling relieved.

“Good. It’s about time to nurse.”

“…Me?”

She froze longer than before the black hole. “Nurse? Me?”

“You’re the mom. Not feeding your kid? If not, I’ll pump and bottle-feed.”

“No, no, no—wait, wait—”

The phrase “being a mom” dropped over her like a sky-wide seal. All her perfect mental prep evaporated. A long-lost sense of estrangement from herself rose up. Her pupils trembled.

“I… I’m a mom…?”

Something felt off, but the logic held, which meant the problem was Yekase. The strangeness melted into sourceless fear, and an urge to cry.

“Hey, hey.” XiaoLei cradled her head. “You just gave birth. Don’t overthink. Got a name?”

“Not yet…”

“Aren’t you good at naming?”

“Does everyone have to roast me…”

She lay quiet in her mom’s arms. When strength trickled back, she hopped off the bed.

She patted herself—everything still in place.

Sometime along the way, someone had dressed her in pink pajamas—super loose—with a strange flap at the chest, like it could open and pop the headlights out.

She tiptoed to the crib.

She saw her child. A small, round head. Eyes clenched tight like seed-grains. Silver hair pasted wet to the crown. Ruddy, wrinkled skin like a little peach too soon.

“Pfft… so ugly.”

Ivaris made a shushing gesture. Yekase didn’t care. She lifted the baby with more care than etching a circuit.

The little one smacked her lips twice. No eyes open. No cry.

Watching, Yekase smiled.

She could feel Flash Energy native in the child. Let her grow, and she’d become an Ascender sooner or later. Ascension traits—an acquired inheritance. Which meant “ascension for all humankind” became theoretically possible—actual evolution.

But that’s for later.

Right now she looked at this child, the world’s only “my child.” Just tasting that phrase birthed a soft, protective ache. She was still a little estranged from how easily she’d accepted “mother,” unsure how to balance career and home. But the fear was gone.

I’ve changed. I really have. (cue smug senpai face)

Ivaris raised a hand. “Alright. Mindset’s steady. Shall we nurse now?”

“Why are you this excited?! You’re not getting any! Absolutely not!”

“I just want a video for, uh, personal power generation tonight. I’m worried your body hasn’t fully recovered. Let me make you rest a few more days.” She said it all righteous, then paused.

“…Really can’t give me a taste?”

“Pervert!”

XiaoLei flicked a look at Liu RuoYuan. She left the couple to it and slipped out, quiet as a cat.

Back in the living room, XiaoLei asked, “How’s the girl Lu Yao brought back?”

“It’s been half a month. Still sleeping. We put her in the room across from theirs.”

“What even is this…”

XiaoLei just turned fifty. She felt young and sparky. But the instant she saw her granddaughter’s tiny face, time flowed like sand. Houseguests kept multiplying in strange ways. She felt the world outrun her.

“I’m going to buy groceries. Stay with them a bit.”

“Dinner’s on me!” Liu RuoYuan called.

When Lu Yao first came back, she was hugging a blonde little girl. Liu RuoYuan spooked, thinking Yekase had rolled a new character. She hadn’t. They tucked the girl in a room. But she never woke, never ate, never drank. They asked a doctor yesterday. The verdict:

“One minute it’s an Ascender. Next minute it’s a robot. You’re making this hard.”

…So that was that.

Turns out she’s a gynoid. Sleep-mode standby checks out. Liu RuoYuan grilled Lu Yao for ages. The ever-reliable Lu Yao stammered for once. She only said she found the girl in a subspace like a Cosmic Bubble. She wouldn’t say what was inside, or what happened.

About ten days after Luo Jie left to save Yekase, a scientist-looking man delivered two floating roundhead whales and a jellyfish.

What even is this anymore? Liu RuoYuan had no clue.

Finally, today, Yekase woke. Her daughter was born. The storms seemed to settle. Time to digest.

The two little whales just drifted, like two lazy clouds, sometimes going “woogoo woogoo,” cute enough to hurt.

The jellyfish didn’t coo. It gnawed metal furniture. Yes, Yekase bought it. It was now banned from the house, relegated to the garden.

Rice Rice seemed able to talk with them. So XiaoLei issued an order: within one month, train the jellyfish not to chew random things.

When Lu Yao had just come back, Ivaris sulked like a scorned wife about missing out on space. Then the jellyfish nuzzled her cheek, and her mood went bright as noon.

“Back in the Twenty Second Squad, Yekase told us this about codenames: naming is how you grant a wish to a thing. Magical Girls aren’t fairy-tale mascots. They’re warriors who might die any day. To hype yourself up, to pass your will on, you need a name that rings.”

Ivaris said that, and named the jellyfish MuMu.

From MuMu-xiu to MuMu—did you even think? Also, your callsign is just your real name, right? Do you even get to preach here?!

Lu Yao named the two little whales “YuanYuan” and “GunGun.”

Liu RuoYuan grabbed a small stool from the living room. She sat in the yard and watched four little beings play.

Sun warm, breeze mild, time gentle.

The hemispherical sky-canopy was already on the repair log, but Labyrinth City hadn’t sent craftsmen yet. So what they saw now was the wild, original sky.

Liu RuoYuan clasped her hands behind her head, stretched, eyes half-closed, a smile hooking one corner.

“Who’s guarding this sky… What do you think, Luo Jie?”