Bzzzz—!! The air thrummed like a hive.

Wind skimmed past their ears like ghost wails; now and then, a child's thin sobs threaded the ink-black corridor like damp string.

All around hung an inky palette of black, a coat of gloom like wet lacquer.

Hey, Rafi—this portal always like this, like a haunted well? Aren’t you scared?

Alicia’s curiosity nipped first like a cat; the courage came late, trailing like a shadow.

Anyone who could cross a portal in this setting was steel tempered in dusk.

No, Rafi said, her tone calm as winter water.

This look was a tiny mishap; normally it’s quiet, at most an eye or two jumps out like fish.

Alicia’s theory melted like paper in rain, yet Rafi dropped horrors in a teacup-calm voice.

Because of that, Alicia couldn’t help it; her gaze skittered around like a mouse.

Then an eye slid into her sightline and stared back, pale as a dead moon.

Ah—her scream cracked like ice on a river.

Her body reached for safety before thought, like a fawn bolting for a tree.

Her hand snapped onto Rafi’s arm, and fear turned the squeeze into iron tongs.

Ah—the second cry tore out like cloth.

Two wails twisted through the void like banners in storm—one from pain, one from fright, and then fright from the pain.

Luckily the ghoulish passage was short; their burst of tears blew past like rain, and solid ground rose to meet their feet.

Dammit—the pain’s etched into my DNA like a brand!

You, right, the one who hurt my hand—your guilt hangs like smoke.

As soon as her boots found solid earth, Rafi hauled Alicia up by the collar like a cat stealing a chick.

Alicia hadn’t realized she’d stamped that pain into Rafi’s memory like a hot seal.

Her fresh fingerprints on Rafi’s arm gave her away like wet ink on a sleeve.

It happened too fast; Alicia froze like a rabbit under a hawk.

Rafi made her verdict in a heartbeat and plopped down, face buried in her knees like a sulking hedgehog.

You two sisters, both of you—one injured my hand, the other pounded the injury like a drum!

Both sisters are jerks, not a decent one among you; I swear it on this ache like a thunder oath!

Nina... Nina, where are you, a star I can’t find; I miss you like a leaf misses its branch.

Clack—the door opened like a mouth on hinges.

Oh my... what are you doing, Ling asked, her voice drifting in like mist.

She stared at Rafi, who looked like a kicked puppy, then at Alicia, as if a page had been torn while she blinked.

Alicia heard Ling and lifted her head like a swimmer breaking the surface for light.

One look, and she saw a girl with, frankly, weaponized curves, a silhouette like twin mountains under silk.

The girl’s arms slid under Ling’s armpits and crossed over her chest, cradling Ling like a porcelain doll.

Why did Ling look so content, like a cat in a patch of sun?

Nah, it’s fine, it’s fine—she just pulled her shell closed for a bit, the Demon King’s traditional party trick like a hermit crab’s.

As she spoke, Alicia smiled and drifted toward the curvy girl like a tide rolling to shore.

She opened her arms like asking for a hug, though it meant only: hand Ling over.

The girl saw how close Ling and Alicia were, like spring recognizing plum blossoms, and she barely hesitated.

She passed Ling across; Alicia took her like a prize ribbon and lit up.

It felt like a main wife and a concubine trading claims, and Alicia, as the main wife, won like a flag planted.

Childish, yes, but the joy rang true like a bell in clear air.

The curvy one hurried to Rafi’s side, concern falling like soft rain; that was a secretary’s job.

My Lord Demon King, are you all right—her question wore a lace glove over steel.

Hmph—how could I be fine, she snapped, her snort popping like a spark.

I got hurt from a little sister’s whim, then her big sister went nuts and pounded my injured hand like a drum, making it worse.

How could I be fine, huh—her glare burned like a coal.

I guess I’m fated to be bullied by those two, a doormat in the rain, a tool they can rough up and it won’t break—hmph!

Her words pouted like a child’s, yet neither Ling nor Alicia could argue; truth sat there like a stone.

All right, all right, Sis, put me down a sec, Ling said, her tone bubbling like a spring.

Alicia didn’t know the plan, but she didn’t dam the flow; she set Ling down like lowering a lantern.

Ling bounced over in a few hops, light as a sparrow, and stopped by Rafi.

In Rafi’s puzzled gaze, Ling caught the injured hand like snatching a drifting leaf.

Wait—easy, don’t, Rafi began, her voice fraying like thread.

Before she finished, coolness spread over the wound like spring water, and a small itch fizzed like ants.