“Sirin,” Silver Wolf said, arms crossed, looking at the doll-like girl who had suddenly appeared with an unfriendly tone, “You shouldn’t be here.”
“But I came anyway.” Sirin’s tone was flat, as if she were stating something perfectly natural.
Her gaze swept past Silver Wolf and landed on Kafka, who stood to the side, smiling silently.
The next second, Silver Wolf’s figure suddenly vanished from where she stood, turning into a stream of light as she lunged fiercely at Sirin!
“Give me back my account!”
However, she failed to reach Sirin.
A hand reached out from the side, precisely grabbing Silver Wolf by the back of her collar.
Kafka had appeared between them at some point, effortlessly stopping Silver Wolf’s “ambush.”
“Kafka, let me go!” Like a cat held by the scruff of its neck, Silver Wolf thrashed in the air, limbs flailing, and shouted indignantly, “I’m going to beat up this bastard who borrowed my account to play games, used cheats, and got over a dozen of my accounts banned!”
Watching Silver Wolf struggle, Sirin spoke calmly: “It’s just a few game accounts.
I’ll just open a few new ones with better gear and give them to you.
Is there any need to be so worked up?”
“What do you mean ‘just a few’?!” Silver Wolf struggled even harder, her voice rising several octaves.
“Every single account was meticulously cultivated by me!
They all had out-of-print items and limited-edition skins!
And another thing, what exactly did you do?
A regular IPC employee couldn’t possibly break through my firewall!
How exactly did you get all my accounts wiped out?”
Sirin blinked, her tone remaining devoid of fluctuation: “Oh, that.
Actually, the truth is, I thought Herta might be interested in the games you play, so I kept asking her if she wanted to play together.
After asking too many times, she got a bit annoyed and asked me which game accounts they were.
So I sent your game IDs to her.
I didn’t expect her to ban all your accounts.”
The air went quiet for a moment.
“D-a-m-n-i-t, H-e-r-t-a—!” Silver Wolf enunciated each word through gritted teeth.
Her struggling paused for half a second due to the sheer absurdity of the truth, then she thrashed even more violently.
“And you too!
Sirin!
I’m going to kill you!”
“Alright, Wolfie, Sirin,” Kafka sighed helplessly, though her hand held firm.
Her voice carried its usual lazy charm, yet it held an underlying power that calmed people down.
“Put personal grudges aside for now.
We have real work to do.
The people from the Astral Express…
are almost here.”
“Don’t be so anxious,” Sirin tilted her head, looking toward a void as if sensing something.
“According to my calculations, there’s still one system time left.
There’s…
enough time for you and her to talk for a while longer.”
Hearing this, Silver Wolf’s struggle lessened slightly, though she still glared at Sirin with an unconvinced expression.
Kafka raised an eyebrow slightly and released her grip on Silver Wolf.
“Choose one, Kafka.” Silver Wolf straightened her disheveled clothes, summoned the male and female protagonists, and returned to her usual slightly lazy tone, though her occasional glances at Sirin still sparked with fire.
Kafka’s gaze moved slowly between the two, a meaningful curve tugging at the corners of her lips.
Her vision finally settled on the face of the female vessel.
“My choice is, without a doubt.”
She stepped forward with elegant strides, arriving beside the female protagonist.
Then, she leaned over, her hand holding the Stellaron slowly pressing against Stelle’s chest.
Her red lips parted, releasing a gentle and bewitching voice.
“It’s time to wake up~”
The female Trailblazer, or Stelle, snapped her eyes open at the touch.
Her consciousness, like something submerged in the deep sea, was slowly rising to the surface.
Her blurry vision gradually cleared.
The first thing to enter her sight was a beautiful, familiar face with a gentle smile.
Purple hair, sunglasses; in the gaze fixed upon her, there seemed to be many emotions she couldn’t understand at the moment.
“…Kafka?” She subconsciously spoke the name, her voice raspy from just waking up.
The smile on Kafka’s face deepened; in it was relief, and something else, something more complex.
“Wonderful.
It seems you still remember me.” Her voice was soft.
“Hey, don’t just stare at Mom,” a slightly lazy female voice came from the side.
“Look at your aunt and little aunt too.”
Stelle turned her head, somewhat dazed, looking toward the source of the voice.
Two girls stood nearby.
One was Silver Wolf, with a cool yet slightly angry expression, arms crossed, glancing sideways at them.
The other…
Stelle’s gaze paused slightly when it fell upon her.
Purple long hair, a doll with an exquisite face—Sirin.
At this moment, she, too, was quietly looking at Stelle, her eyes calm and waveless.
However, this peaceful scene of “family harmony” lasted less than a second.
Suddenly, without any warning, Silver Wolf lunged forward, charging directly at Sirin!
“Take this!”
Sirin seemed to have anticipated it, or perhaps her reaction was just extremely fast; she tilted her body slightly and raised her hand to block.
But this time, Silver Wolf was clearly driven by “personal grudges,” and the force and angle of her lunge were incredibly tricky.
The two figures collided instantly, staging an unexpected exchange of blows before Stelle’s newly awakened, still dazed eyes.
(Though in reality, it felt more like play-fighting.)
Stelle’s vision was occupied by this sudden “family infighting,” and for a moment, she was stunned.
“Listen to me—”
Kafka’s lazy yet magical voice rang out again, easily pulling Stelle’s attention back.
“Don’t look at them; it’s just some…
minor family entertainment.” Kafka smiled, as if the two figures rolling around on the floor nearby were just insignificant background noise.
“Now, listen to me…”
The subsequent events unfolded along the established trajectory.
Kafka used her words to guide Stelle, instilling in her “a rough idea of her future” and explaining the current situation, telling Stelle that she was going to abandon her.
Until the very end, at the moment of parting, Kafka looked deeply at Stelle and spoke those words, which sounded both like a prophecy and an instruction: “When you have the chance to make a choice, don’t let yourself have any regrets.”
As her words faded, she, along with Silver Wolf and Sirin—who had stopped fighting at some point, though their hair and clothes were slightly disheveled—began to be enveloped in energy.
Their figures blurred, eventually vanishing like dissipating phantoms before Stelle’s eyes, and Stelle fell into unconsciousness.