Tentacles ringed us from every direction, like reeds in a storm. They surged into the half-dome shield like a tide. Yet creatures with will move different, like wolves that circle. They didn’t strike at once; they waited for their pack.

The tentacles wanted to wait, but Ling’s patience was frost-thin. She raised her right hand over her head like a banner. A sharp glint flickered in her eyes, like a blade catching dawn.

“Birdcage: Constrict!” Her shout cracked like thunder over still water.

She’d learned the move from a string-mancer, a spider with fingers. Her palm folded into a fist like a closing trap. The half-dome shield began to shrink, like a tightening net.

The tentacles felt the shield’s change like fish sensing a current. They had no time to react, like candles in a gust. The closing dome scythed through their bodies in a blink, like hot wind through leaves. Heat flashed; they vaporized to nothing, like mist under noon sun.

With the deed done, Ling looked across like a hunter checking the field. Sin Ling was still teasing a little tentacle under fifty centimeters, like a child with a ribbon. The tentacle lifted its head like a curious snake; Sin Ling’s finger flicked its—call it a chin—like tapping porcelain. With a big censor bar slapped over it, the scene would be a little girl teasing her puppy, all sugar and sunlight.

“Hey, little sister, you done yet?” Ling’s shout snapped like a whip.

Her shout pulled Sin Ling back like a tug on a kite string. She let go of the reluctant little tentacle, like dropping a warm stone. She looked at Ling, whole yet disheveled, like armor scuffed by rain.

“Ala~ Big sis came out that fast? I thought you’d stay in there forever~ Her voice curled like incense.”

“Heh… I’m not playing with your boring snark. Just say it—do you want the right side of your butt to blossom, or the left? Or should I give you two flowers?” Her words glittered like shards of ice.

Sin Ling propped her chin with one hand, like a scholar weighing moonlight. With the other, she pinched at the air, counting as if numbers were beads.

Minutes of pretend arithmetic dragged by like molasses. Ling’s patience frayed like old silk, and she opened her mouth to say, “I’ll hit them all!” Sin Ling cut in like lightning, as if she’d read tomorrow.

“I’ll take the left. Men left, women right—that’s the old rule!” Her voice rang like a bell.

Ling gave her a deadpan stare, stormclouds gathering like ink in water. The urge to pummel this little brat thumped in her chest like a drum.

“Turn around…” Her words dropped like a pebble.

Sin Ling obediently turned, like a cat presenting its back. She bent over and stuck out her little butt, like a peach on a branch, one breath from hiking up that skirt.

Ling strode slowly behind the foolish loli who’d asked for it, like night closing in. Even from her back, Ling could feel Sin Ling’s hidden grin, like a candle behind paper.

She lifted her right hand high, green mana winding around her palm like little snakes. She glanced at the thin layer, a leaf’s worth of green on her skin.

She’s tough as I am, bark-thick. A bit of force should be fine, right? The thought coiled like a vine.

She added another layer, like varnish over jade. The pale cyan deepened a shade, like dusk thickening. That tiny change multiplied the power like a sudden flood.

“Listen well…” Her voice dropped like a stone.

Her palm came down fast, like a hawk stooping.

“You’re a—gir——rl!” Her words cracked like ice.

Just before the palm landed, Sin Ling heard the words like wind through bamboo. She didn’t answer, or maybe she did—with a smile, the kind that looks like release, like a bird unlatched.

Smack!

The slap echoed through the pitch-black space like a conductor’s cue. Joy’s music cut off like a snapped string; a grave note rose to replace it, like dusk flooding the stage.

Thud!

The Script didn’t follow Ling’s plan; fate turned like a page in a storm. Sin Ling’s body didn’t tank the slap at all; raw force launched her like a kite cut loose. She flew straight, then gravity seized her like iron, and she kissed the ground hard. Knee-high water fountained up like silver fish. Sadly, the airborne droplets didn’t weave a rainbow for Sin Ling—only cold spray under a black sky.

Ling stared dumbly at the hand that sent Sin Ling flying, like a stranger’s glove. The disbelief in her pupils shone like shattered glass.

She froze for only seconds, like a deer in lantern light. Then she snapped back and sprinted to Sin Ling, feet slapping water like drumbeats. The sting bit through her soles like nettles, but she had no room for pain. She reached Sin Ling’s side and gathered her limp body like cradling a fallen bird.

“N-no… I didn’t mean it. Are you okay? I didn’t think I’d use that much force… I just… I just…” Her voice trembled like rain on glass.

She apologized in earnest, yet she felt tears spill from her eyes, uncontrollable as a broken dam.

Sin Ling lifted a small hand and brushed Ling’s wet lashes like a feather. Tenderness filled her eyes, soft as moonlight.

“Big sis, don’t mind it. This isn’t your fault; it’s mine, like shadow to body. When I judged you before, I was helping you atone, washing your sins like rain. As the shape of your sin, atonement and self-erasure are the same river, so none of this is on you.”

Ling said nothing; though Sin Ling called it not her fault, Ling shouldered it like a yoke anyway.

Sin Ling knew her big sister—herself, really—wasn’t easily swayed, like a mountain in wind, so she stopped saying words that would blow away.

“Then let’s change the topic. While I can still stay in this world like frost before sunrise, let me answer more of your questions.”

“Big sis, did you feel that surge of power when you took back control, like a tide rushing in?”

Ling didn’t know how to respond; her heart was a sinkhole of regret, swallowing words like stones. Sin Ling didn’t stop; the topic marched on like a drumline.

“Then listen close, big sis. I don’t know the exact cause, but the boost in you likely came from other ‘yous’—sisters from alternate worlds, reflections in other rivers. They sent you strength like stars, and along with it, they dumped their original sins onto you like cargo. That’s why I knew all this; a weight of sin the size of several worlds flooded in, and it scared me like thunder.”

Alternate-world… me? The thought flickered like a firefly.

Ling wrestled with the impossible like a fish in net. Suddenly a flash cut through her mind like lightning, and an answer came riding it.

Could it be those mouthwatering statues from the mindscape earlier?! The memory rose like steam.

She’d just found a reasonable answer and was about to share it, like passing a lantern. But Sin Ling’s body grew more and more translucent, like glass thinning, and Ling’s focus snapped to it like a drawn bow.

“Sin Ling, what’s happening to you? Why are you turning out like this?” Her voice broke like waves on rock.

Sin Ling lifted her half-transparent right hand and clasped Ling’s small hand tight, soaking in warmth like a cat under sun.

“Big sis, don’t be afraid. This is my own will, like a lantern I chose to set afloat. The sin in me has been spent to emptiness, scattered like ash, so I can’t stay in this world anymore.”

Ling turned her hand and held Sin Ling’s, tears spilling like spring rain. She couldn’t bear to lose a sister she’d known less than a day, a bond budding like a new leaf.

“Then… then we’ll go collect more sin for you!” Her words fluttered like startled birds.

“No need, big sis. I already had so much fun, more than ever in this life, like fireworks in my chest, so I’m satisfied. Emmm… I hope Lady Sister can promise me one thing.”

“Tell me. Anything, I’ll do it.” Her promise was firm as stone.

“Then, Lady Sister, promise me—never again forge sin too strong, like storms you can’t outrow. I won’t grow another ‘me’ to carry it for you. Bearing sin isn’t a game; it’s a winter that bites.”

Ling nodded like a pecking chick, frantic and clear as rain. Afraid Sin Ling might miss her answer, she overdid it. Watching her silly big sister, Sin Ling’s smile bloomed again like a quiet flower.

“How nice~ I’m someone who’s even been spoiled by my sister now, like honey on warm bread. Then promise me one last thing, okay? Call me once by my true name?”

Ling opened her mouth, but the sound didn’t have time to fly. Sin Ling’s body shattered like glass, turning into tiny clear crystals that drifted through the air like snow.

Ling stared at her empty hands, like wells gone dry. Tears traced her cheeks like rivers, and the color in her eyes dimmed like embers fading.

“…Sin.”