They’d been messing around for a good while, time pooling like melted sugar under a summer sun.

They ran through almost every game they could play; the outcome was obvious, a storm sweeping the board—Ling crushed everything except a single loss.

Why did she lose?

Pity first, then grit—her sympathy flared like a soft lantern, and in a round of Red Light, Green Light she burned eighty percent of her brain cells just to let the little one barely win, a headache pounding like thunder at the edge of collapse.

Harsh truth, but this kid was unbelievably dense; for a vessel loaded with so much Demon King mana, was it add power, subtract IQ?

Then again, what’s with the ocean of mana she carries—double negative makes a positive? Could be. Chalk squeaks; clearly, I’m a genius.

After so many long games, Ling finally raised the earlier “wager.” The little one didn’t default; she nodded, though reluctance hung on her face like autumn mist.

“Little one, I really have to go, or people outside will start to worry.”

A neat lie, dusted in frost—who would worry? With strength like mountains, she didn’t need anyone.

“You… if you want to go, just go. I don’t care if you stay.” Her voice bristled like a cat’s tail. “But time outside isn’t synced with here. Don’t worry about playing too long…”

Tsundere warmth rubbed raw—my favorite flavor. She said she didn’t care, but the last line spilled her heart like tea.

“Then, how long has it been outside?”

At Ling’s question, the little one perked up, hope fluttering like a sparrow at dawn.

“A-about 99.99 seconds! So…”

“Ah… a number brimming with wisdom. Not the point. That’s a minute and a half gone already. I can’t stay. Sorry~”

Her shoulders drooped; even that lone ahoge atop her head wilted like a blade of grass, and Ling felt a pinch of envy at a cowlick that danced with mood.

“Then, reward me a little. I might come back.”

“Really?! What does big sis want?”

“Kiss my forehead. Then say, ‘Onee-chan, I like you.’ How’s that?”

To secure the promise, the kid cupped Ling’s head with both small hands and pressed her lips to Ling’s brow without a flicker of doubt.

“Pop~”

“Onee-chan, I like you~”

Ling touched the spot, warmth lingering like sun on stone, regret nibbling at her.

Should’ve asked for the lips… No. No way. Those stay reserved for the real Alicia.

“Alright, that’s it for today. Little one, tell me how to get out~”

No fuss. Maybe she truly believed Ling would return, so she didn’t cling—she just tugged Ling to a wall white as fresh snow.

“Why bring me here?”

No answer. Her tiny hands skimmed the wall like minnows through clear water; then she brightened, the smile blooming like a flower.

“Found it, sis!”

Her fingers clenched as if grasping an invisible handle; her wrist turned, gentle as winding silk.

“Click~”

Like opening a human door, the little one mimed the motion—only this time a real door yawed wide, revealing a star-deep void, a night sea that made Ling hesitate at its edge.

“Sis, this is it. Go in, and you’ll be out.”

“Uh… suddenly I—ah!!!!”

The kid who’d just been reluctant to let her go rushed like a startled squirrel, darted behind Ling, and pushed—Ling pitched into the starry dark, and the door slammed shut without even a goodbye.

“WTF, why?!”

That was the last thing Ling said before blackout.

——————

Her eyes eased open, like dawn peeling off the horizon.

An unfamiliar ceiling…

Unfamiliar indeed—pressed right against her forehead like a stone lid. What kind of house has a ceiling at your crown?

Enough jokes. Ling’s gaze skimmed the cramped world, and the picture snapped into focus like frost tracing glass.

She was fully restrained, a statue tucked in a crystal coffin; fingers, feet—any twitch thudded into a hard edge.

Add in that monster skill Rafi cast before, and there was only one answer.

She’d been iced.

No cold, no winter breath, but truth sat heavy—she was frozen, caught like a fish in clear amber.

A stray thought wandered to movies and myths—ancients trapped in ice, thawed by a half-machine hero, primitive fire overrunning high-tech steel. Sounds thrilling, like drums under a storm sky.

But the kid had said it herself—just ninety-nine seconds. That’s barely long enough for a quick meal. Where’s the time to skip into the future?

She shook the muddle from her mind, clearing the fog so she wouldn’t tumble back into headless daydreams.

Time to get out.

Ice walled her on all sides, a silent glacier—but for Ling, breaking it was a thought flicking like a blade. No need for [Mana Break]—just pure, clean violence.

“—[Crow Takes Flight]!”