The sunlight was new. The air was new, too.
All of Belobog basked in a warmth it hadn't felt in seven hundred years—since before the Eternal Freeze.
For the first time, children from the Underworld truly experienced what it meant to stand beneath the surface world.
Hook, Julian, and Alina—the three little members of the Moles—lay on a soft lawn with their heads pressed together, forming a lopsided triangle.
The wind was gentle, carrying the damp, earthy tang of soil and the faint sweetness of sun-warmed grass.
Julian's eyes were wide, unblinking, fixed on the boundless blue overhead.
"Boss! Boss!" he exclaimed, his voice overflowing with awe. "Is this the sky you saw in your dreams? It's so… so huge, so blue, so pretty!"
Alina lay on her side with her cheek against the grass tips and inhaled deeply, as if she wanted to breathe this brand-new world straight into her lungs.
"Yeah! I feel like I could stare at it all day—no, for days—and never get bored!"
Hook cocked her lips smugly, legs crossed high like the sky itself was her personal treasure.
"Hmph. This is nothing! In my dreams, Hook ate tons and tons of sweet treats and played with toys I'd never seen before! And—"
She paused dramatically, savoring the suspense.
"—Hook recently learned a super awesome word."
"'The world'!"
"The world?!" The other two snapped their heads around, eyes sparkling. "Boss, what does 'the world' mean?"
Hook's smugness froze for a split second.
"Uh… the world is… the world is… uh…"
Her small hand darted up to scratch her messy hair. She didn't actually know.
But how could the boss of the Moles ever look clueless in front of her team?
"The world," she declared, forcing her voice into something authoritative, "means… means you can command everyone!"
"Yeah! Like making the old witch never bully Hook again!"
The moment she finished, a faint rustle sounded nearby—grass being stepped on.
The three kids sprang upright like they'd been launched by a spring, sitting straight with perfect synchronization.
Natasha was already standing a few steps away, watching them with a warm expression.
Hook instantly broke into a cold sweat. Her face went pale. Her heart pounded like a drum.
Oh no! The old witch—Natasha didn't hear that, right?!
"So this is where you were hiding to sunbathe," Natasha said with a helpless little smile. "You really made me look for you."
"…Hook, what's wrong?" she asked, frowning slightly in concern. "Your face is so white—and you're sweating so much."
"N-no problem!" Hook squeaked, snapping her arm up to wipe her forehead at machine-gun speed. "Report to Natasha—uh, I mean, Natasha Sister! It's the surface—this place is too warm! Way warmer than before! So Hook is sweating because Hook is hot!"
She forced a huge grin that looked just a little too stiff.
Natasha's gaze flicked over Hook's nervous expression, then over Julian and Alina—both sitting bolt upright, barely daring to breathe—and she chuckled, choosing not to press further.
"That's true," she said, lifting her face to the sun. "With the Eternal Freeze gone, Belobog's climate has completely changed. Looks like everyone's habits—like what we wear—will have to change quickly too."
Julian's eyes darted, clever as always, and he hurriedly changed the topic to save the boss.
"Natal—Natasha Sister, did you come to give the Moles an important mission?"
He puffed out his small chest, trying his best to look dependable.
Hook shot him a look full of approval.
Good job, Julian!!
Julian lifted his chin proudly.
Of course, Boss!!
Natasha laughed.
"A mission, huh… I suppose you could call it that." She nodded toward the city center. "Come on. Let's go to the Central Plaza. Lady Bronya will be giving her speech in front of the Everwinter Monument soon—her inauguration as the new Supreme Guardian."
"It's a historic moment for Belobog."
"Supreme Guardian…" Hook repeated in a deep, serious imitation of an adult, arms crossed and nodding solemnly. "Mm. Mm. Supreme Guardian…"
A flicker of strange understanding brushed the depths of her mind—and vanished as quickly as it came.
When all of Belobog's intelligent life had been forced into super-fusion, everyone had briefly shared an almost limitless, mirror-amplified computation. In that connection, Hook had touched—just for an instant—the mountain-heavy responsibility and glory behind that title.
But now it was like a footprint on wet sand, erased by the tide, leaving only a vague symbol behind.
To her, the meaning of "Supreme Guardian" felt as distant and high as the sky itself.
Julian and Alina looked just as lost, only understanding that it was something really important—something very big.
By the time they reached the monument, the place was already packed.
Even the monument itself seemed gentler than before—less biting, less forbidding—standing solemn and ancient beneath warm sunlight.
Its towering crystal surface reflected the shifting sea of heads below, and the faces of people filled with expectation and hope.
Though the speech hadn't begun yet, the crowd maintained a near-reverent quiet on their own. Excitement and solemnity simmered in the air without words.
Natasha guided the three kids to a relatively open spot near the edge of the crowd.
Hook craned her neck in curiosity while Julian and Alina pressed close at her sides.
As they waited, a faint ripple—unique to Trailblaze Path spatial transfer—washed through the air near the domain anchor at the plaza's edge.
A soft glow gathered.
Then four familiar figures stepped out of the light.
"Star! I told you not to let Firefly drink Himeko's coffee!" March 7th's voice crackled with indignation, her pink hair bouncing in the sun.
"Look! She slept until just now—we almost missed Bronya's inauguration!"
Star spread her hands innocently. "She said she wanted to try it…"
Nearby, Dan Heng stood as calmly as ever, arms folded, gaze steady as he scanned the surroundings.
Firefly—still a little groggy—rubbed her eyes and tried to keep up with everyone.
She still didn't understand how this body—outwardly human, inwardly insect, and threaded through with the power of three Paths: Propagation, Trailblaze, and The Hunt—could be knocked out by a cup of coffee.
It made no sense.
"…Hey," Natasha greeted them with a smile and a small wave.
"Star! It's Honorary Member Star!" Hook's eyes lit up. She exploded out of Natasha's hand like a cannonball—thump-thump-thump—and slammed straight into Star's arms.
Star caught the kid effortlessly and grinned, ruffling her hair.
That Underworld hide-and-seek war had earned Star the title of Honorary Mole.
Old friends meeting again made the air instantly lighter.
They chatted quietly, swapping impressions of Belobog after the thaw.
March excitedly showed off photos she'd taken from space—Belobog's new look from above.
Then, gradually, every gaze in the plaza drew toward the high platform before the Everwinter Monument.
Bronya appeared.
She wore a silver-gray ceremonial outfit—traditional Guardian elements fused with clean modern lines—and walked with steady, composed steps to the monument's base.
Sunlight spilled across her long silver hair, like a sacred halo.
The plaza went so silent you could hear a pin drop.
Every eye fixed on her—trust, anticipation, and hope shining openly.
She didn't shy away from the past.
Instead, from a calm and lucid distance, she told the story of the previous Supreme Guardian—her mother, Cocolia Rand.
How it began under the Stellaron's whispers—how the Overworld and Underworld fractured, breeding suffering and suspicion.
How, within Mirror's trials, Cocolia broke free of the Stellaron's control and awakened to her own mistakes—and to Belobog's desperate reality.
"But clarity did not bring liberation," Bronya said, her voice echoing with the weight of history. "It brought an even heavier choice."
"Facing the threat of the Eternal Freeze… facing the Antimatter Legion, sealed under ice yet destined to awaken… facing the Interastral Peace Corporation's debt settlement…"
Her voice rose, edged with tragedy and steel.
"My mother chose an all-or-nothing gamble."
"She placed all of Belobog—every one of us—on the table of fate."
The crowd held its breath.
"She borrowed Mirror's power, guiding the will of our entire people into a single link… and stepped onto a path never before seen—the Path of the Human Heart."
A stunned murmur rippled through the plaza. Faces filled with complicated emotion.
Hook didn't fully understand—but her heartbeat raced.
"In that moment," Bronya's voice surged like a war drum, "we were no longer separate individuals."
"We became one."
"Our wills condensed."
"And we took the form of a Genesis Titan—created to protect our home."
Her words struck the crowd like thunder.
"With mortal bodies, we grasped power like an Aeon's!"
"In a heartbeat, we drove back the Eternal Freeze!"
"We dismantled the Legion's frozen threat completely!"
"And we declared to the cold universe—the unyielding will and strength of Belobog!"
The plaza erupted.
Cheers and applause roared like an avalanche.
People wept openly, arms raised, hugging strangers, shouting until their voices cracked.
Hook, Julian, and Alina clapped hard too, swept along by the tide of feeling.
Bronya paused until the cheers began to settle, then her tone deepened—heavy, solemn.
"And my mother—Cocolia Rand—paid the price of this great sacrifice with her life."
"She cleared the greatest hidden danger for us."
"She secured the foundation for us to speak to the Interastral Peace Corporation as equals."
"Her fall purchased Belobog's rebirth—and our first true dawn among the stars."
The plaza fell silent again, leaving only the wind tugging at banners.
Grief, reverence, gratitude—emotion flowed through the air like unseen current.
Many lowered their heads in wordless mourning.
Bronya stood straighter, like a blade ready to be drawn.
"Today, the Eternal Freeze is history. The threat is uprooted. Belobog has welcomed a real spring."
"What we have gained—so hard-won—was built from my mother's life."
"And it was forged by the miracle all Belobog created together."
Her eyes swept across the crowd, lingering on the monument.
"Now the weight of history passes to my shoulders."
"I, Bronya Rand, hereby swear—"
She raised her right hand. Her voice was clear enough to pierce the sky.
"I will inherit the will of every Supreme Guardian before me."
"I will protect the dawn my mother fought to win."
"I will lead Belobog toward prosperity, peace, and an open future."
Her eyes gleamed like starlight.
"I, Bronya Rand, hereby assume office as Belobog's—"
"Eighteenth Supreme Guardian!"
A heartbeat of stillness.
Then the plaza detonated into deafening cheers.
"Bronya-sama!"
"Long live the Supreme Guardian!"
"Long live Belobog!"
People embraced, jumped, cried and laughed all at once.
Hope and power and joy burst outward like a wave.
Above the sea of celebration, on the edge of a rooftop near the square—
Kafka lounged lazily in an elegant armchair that no one knew where she'd gotten from.
In her hand was a steaming cup of coffee. The aroma drifted on the breeze.
She looked utterly out of place, like she had stepped out of another story.
Aisen rested both hands casually on the cold railing, gaze fixed on the silver-haired figure blazing on the platform, a faint curve on his lips.
Cocolia stood beside him, quiet.
She was no longer the imposing Supreme Guardian.
Just a woman in simple clothes, golden hair caught by the wind.
Her gaze—like the gentlest wings—wrapped around the young figure on the stage.
Her daughter.
Bronya.
In that look was pride, reluctance, relief… and a softness that words couldn't hold.
Not bad.
She'd already learned how to use the Path of the Human Heart to guide the crowd's emotions. Washing away the past this early might not be the smartest move, but…
That feeling.
Being loved.
…It wasn't bad.
"How is it?" Aisen asked without turning. His tone remained flat. "You can finally rest easy now, right?"
Cocolia didn't look away from Bronya. She only let a small, loosened smile appear.
"Yes, my lord. That child… has taken my responsibility perfectly."
"She's done… far better than I ever imagined."
Aisen's gaze seemed to pierce through the crowd, through time, toward the Cocolia who once carved Mirror's fragments out of the sea of minds.
"You won your gamble—completely."
Cocolia remembered the decision she had made: forcing all of Belobog's people, through the Stellaron's Harmony power, into Mirror's fragments—betting everything on a sliver of survival.
She had thought that if they could only gather enough strength at the level of an Emanator—drive off the Eternal Freeze, erase the Antimatter Legion threat, leave Bronya a bargaining chip against the company—that would be the limit.
And even then, once Belobog was exposed to the universe, the road ahead would remain jagged with thorns.
Even with Emanator-class power, the debt and the exposed fragment of Mirror would still leave Bronya in a precarious position against the IPC.
But she had never imagined—
"I underestimated the power of the human heart," Cocolia murmured, "and the strangeness of fate… or perhaps the kindness of that one."
"In the fusion materials, there were fragments—by sheer coincidence—of core concepts from four Paths: Remembrance, Preservation, Propagation, and Harmony…"
Aisen finished the thought. "And that happened to complete the last piece the Path of the Human Heart needed."
"It let it take root, just for a moment—and bloom into a brilliance at the edge of apotheosis."
"Yes." Awe flickered through Cocolia's eyes. "In that brief time, the Genesis Titan truly possessed power like an Aeon's—overlooking the universe…"
"And that mysterious Emanator—Long Night Moon…"
Her gaze slid toward March 7th in the crowd.
"To erase the entire universe's knowledge that Mirror's remains were here… with the Path of the Human Heart as the key…"
"It's so strong it makes everything feel meaningless."
Without that move, even after solving the immediate crisis and gaining enormous power, Belobog—now a newborn world carrying Mirror's remnants—would have become meat under endless greedy eyes.
"No peace. No end."
"With that godlike stroke," Aisen concluded, "the shadows were swept away and the road ahead cleared."
"Against the company, you now stand in absolute advantage."
"Cocolia Rand—your gamble won every chip on the table."
"A perfect victory."
Cocolia smiled—truly smiled.
The kind of smile you wear after shouldering a mountain for too long, when you finally see every sacrifice return as something real.
She looked once more toward Bronya—surrounded by the people's cheers—and her eyes softened like water.
At that moment, Bronya's gaze seemed tugged by something unseen.
She looked—precisely—toward the rooftop.
Cocolia's heart jolted, but her body didn't move. Her smile only deepened a fraction.
Bronya's eyes swept across the roof, puzzled.
There was nothing there but wind over metal.
She frowned faintly… then relaxed, returning to the crowd and her duties.
"She can't see you," Aisen said evenly.
"I know," Cocolia replied, her voice gentle—carrying a hint of loss, and more of relief.
"That's for the best."
She turned to Aisen, expression settling into calm seriousness—the kind she used to wear as Supreme Guardian.
"Then, as we agreed: now that Belobog has stabilized, I will go with you to other universes and help manage the corresponding forces for your companions."
"My experience may be useful."
At the instant her soul should have vanished in the fusion—Aisen's power had caught her, reshaped her, rebuilt her.
When she awoke, she understood who he was.
Her deep contact with Mirror's fragments let her sense Mirror's aura on Kafka… and it gave her an instinctive certainty:
This ordinary-looking man—Aisen—was Mirror's creator.
Before such a being, refusal was meaningless.
And also unnecessary.
Aisen nodded, approving.
"Your experience is priceless—especially after touching Mirror and roaming the seas of mind across many cosmic powers."
"It's exactly what I need."
"Thank you for your recognition," Cocolia said, inclining her head.
Aisen glanced toward Bronya and asked casually, "Are you sure you don't want to see your daughter one last time?"
He stated it plainly. "Once you cross over… you may not be able to return for a very long time."
Cocolia shook her head without hesitation.
"I know how strong she is," she said softly. "But her heart… values bonds too much."
"If I meet her now, I'll only burden her with confusion and longing she doesn't need."
"When she has truly grown into someone who can stand above her own emotions without being ruled by them…"
"Then we'll meet again."
A brief silence.
Then Cocolia's calm wavered with a trace of hesitation.
She looked at Aisen, voice carrying a quiet request.
"Before we depart… my lord, could I… meet one person?"
Aisen waved a hand, unconcerned.
"Of course. There's still time."
"My gratitude," Cocolia said.
She gave the platform one last deep look—at the silver-haired figure embraced by the crowd.
All the words she could never say became a silent blessing in her golden eyes.
Then she turned crisply away, vanishing as soundlessly as a breeze slipping into shadow.
The rooftop was left with only Aisen and Kafka.
Aisen finally turned fully toward Kafka and let out a quiet breath.
"I didn't expect Mirror's variable to be this large," he said, half to himself.
"No wonder Elio used an entire cycle to observe the effects of the variable."
Kafka set down her coffee.
She stretched lazily like a cat—utterly at ease, utterly mismatched with the world around her.
"This run really took too long."
As she stretched, she covered her mouth with refined grace and yawned lightly, a glint of moisture in the corner of her eye.
She and Aisen had stayed in Belobog for two days.
Thanks to the time-stasis effect of the "crystal wardrobe" clothing, her body remained impeccably clean and perfect—even if she never took off her boots.
But psychologically, she still craved the feeling of hot water running over skin, of foam wrapping her body.
Not bathing for days made her feel restless.
So while Aisen stayed in Belobog the whole time—patiently waiting to recover Cocolia's soul (which should have been annihilated in the fusion) and spending power to rebuild her body—
Kafka fully enjoyed the convenience of the chat group's sub-channel.
Now and then she would teleport back to the Stellaron Hunters' ship to bathe, rest, eat well, and sleep peacefully.
When she felt like it, she would teleport back to Aisen's side to admire Belobog's once-eternal snow scenery—treating it as a casual diversion.
"I'm going to rest for a while," Kafka said, rising. She smoothed her skirt—perfectly unwrinkled—with effortless elegance.
"I don't plan on moving much in the near term."
She gave Aisen a lazy smile.
"Goodbye. If you need anything, contact me in the group."
She waved.
Aisen nodded, gaze warm.
"Fair. You can still feel fatigue in your current state. Rest well, Kafka."
Kafka inclined her head once, acknowledging, and her figure vanished instantly.
The rooftop grew utterly quiet.
Aisen stood alone by the railing for a moment, gaze passing over the plaza toward a particular direction in Belobog.
He didn't linger.
His silhouette faded into the air, leaving no trace.
He headed to where Cocolia was now.
Serval's workshop.
"Click!"
March's shutter sound was crisp and bright.
"Wow! This came out amazing!" Serval praised sincerely, taking the photo March handed over and admiring the group shot—Serval, Clara, Firefly, Star, March, and Dan Heng all together.
"Look at that lighting! That composition! If the photographer at my concerts had half your skill, the results would double!"
In the photo, Serval was laughing brightly, one arm slung companionably around Clara's shoulder.
Firefly stood on Clara's other side, smiling gently.
Star stood beside Firefly, arms crossed, chin lifted, mouth curved in that unmistakably smug "dragon king" way.
Dan Heng stood next to Star with a rare, relaxed smile—and even cooperated with a V-sign.
March popped most of her head into frame from the corner, pink hair flying, full of energy.
"Hehe, not to brag," March said proudly, hands on hips, "but I really do have juuust a teeny bit of natural talent when it comes to photography!"
Star immediately teased, grin sharp. "Talent? I think you're just a camera that gained sentience. Of course your photos are good."
"Hey! Star!" March exploded, swinging her fists at Star's arm.
"Stop saying I'm a camera that gained sentience! People will misunderstand! How could I be something like that?! I'm a living, breathing, beautiful girl!"
Her cheeks puffed in outrage.
Everyone burst into laughter.
In the middle of it, Clara stared at her own copy of the photo. Slowly, confusion—and a touch of sadness—rose in her small face.
"So… Clara is really… this short?"
In the photo, she looked especially tiny standing among the taller girls.
Firefly caught the emotion instantly.
She bent down gently and patted Clara's head.
"Clara is still little," she said warmly. "You're still growing. If you eat on time and sleep well, you'll definitely grow taller."
Her gaze shifted to Serval—smiling bright, tall, confident.
"Growing as tall as Serval someday isn't impossible."
Clara looked up, first meeting Firefly's encouraging eyes, then glancing at Serval.
Serval immediately straightened up theatrically with a radiant smile.
Clara's eyes lit up again. She nodded hard, fists clenched with determination.
"Mm! Clara will eat well and grow tall! Like Serval!"
"Aww!" Serval beamed. "Clara really knows how to talk—so cute!"
"Not like certain little brats with no manners who insist on calling me Aunt Serval," she added with mock offense, glancing toward Star and March as they bickered.
"Just wait, you two!"
More laughter. More protests.
Time slipped by too fast.
Photos taken, jokes traded, the Express crew had to go take commemorative pictures elsewhere in Belobog.
They said their goodbyes. Dan Heng nodded politely to Serval. Star dragged March—still puffed up with indignation—out the door. Firefly gently held Clara's hand as they left together.
"Bye, Serval!" Clara waved.
"Bye, rock-and-roll auntie!" Star's voice floated back with the closing door.
"Star—!!!" Serval's fake-angry shout got sealed inside with the click of the latch.
The noise receded like a tide.
The workshop returned to what it always was.
Cold metal tools lay on the workbench. Loose gears reflected faint light from the window. The air smelled of oil and steel.
A room that had just been full of laughter became suddenly wide and quiet, as if the warmth from before had been an illusion.
Serval's smile faded quickly.
She stood for a moment where they'd been taking pictures, eyes drifting across the empty room, then down to the group photo in her hand.
Her fingers unconsciously rubbed the photo's edge, as if it still held the warmth of those who'd just left.
She sighed—softly, lonely, the sound barely disturbing the silence.
"Seriously…" she murmured, voice low enough for only herself. It was thick with longing.
"Cocolia… if you could see this now, it would be—"
"I'm seeing it. What's wrong?"
A voice—familiar enough to haunt countless nights—spoke inside the silent workshop.
Serval froze.
Her pupils shrank.
That voice…
How could it be?
She lifted her head in disbelief, eyes frantic—
And her gaze locked on a figure standing there, backlit by the window.
Golden hair.
A familiar outline.
A familiar presence.
Cocolia Rand.
Serval's body refused to move.
Then—slowly, hesitantly—she raised a trembling hand toward the figure, as if she wanted to touch her, but was terrified she'd shatter with the slightest contact.
Her fingertips finally—carefully—landed on Cocolia's shoulder.
A touch.
Warm.
Solid.
Real.
Serval jerked her hand back like she'd been burned—then reached out again, frantic, needing to confirm.
Not a ghost.
Not a hallucination.
Real.
"Don't worry," Cocolia said softly, carrying a calm that soothed the soul.
She reached out and clasped Serval's icy, trembling hand.
Then she opened her arms and pulled Serval into an embrace so tight it felt like she wanted to knead her into bone and blood.
"I really am Cocolia."
The moment Serval felt that undeniable warmth and strength, her body collapsed, all tension breaking.
Shock, disbelief, a lifetime of longing, grief pressed down for far too long—
Her instincts took over.
Serval clung to Cocolia, burying her face into her neck. Her shoulders shook violently. Hot tears soaked Cocolia's collar in silence.
All the pain—complaints she'd never said, fears she'd swallowed, loneliness she'd endured—poured out like a dam breaking.
Cocolia didn't speak much. She simply held her tighter, letting the storm pass through.
After a long time, Serval's trembling calmed a little—yet her arms still refused to loosen, as if letting go would make Cocolia vanish again.
Cocolia patted her back gently and began to explain, softly, carefully:
Aisen—an existence from beyond the universe, the creator of Mirror.
How, at the instant her soul should have been erased, she had been captured and rebuilt.
And Aisen's invitation: for her to go to other worlds, using the priceless experience she had gained from roaming the seas of mind through Mirror's shards, to help manage forces elsewhere.
"…I think it's fair," Cocolia said with quiet sincerity.
"Without him, Belobog would never have reached this outcome."
"I must repay that debt."
"And this… is also a new beginning."
She paused, eyes fixed on Serval—who still had tear tracks, eyes bright and vulnerable.
"The Cocolia I used to be was the Supreme Guardian. I had responsibility… and chains."
"But now—"
She tightened her hold on Serval's hand, gaze fierce with honesty.
"Now I am simply Cocolia."
Serval's cheeks were still wet, but color rose into them—warm and sudden. Her eyes darted away from Cocolia's intense stare, tangled between joy and fear.
She drew a breath like someone gathering courage and asked, voice shaking faintly with trial and desperation:
"So… you came to see me before you leave… to do what?"
She tried to make it sound casual, but it didn't hide the tension or the fragile hope underneath.
"…To have one last night together?"
Cocolia blinked.
Then her lips curved into a warm smile—light, relieved, sincere.
"Originally…" she said, dragging the word out on purpose.
Serval's whole body tensed instantly.
"…that was what I thought."
Cocolia felt Serval's hand stiffen.
"But—"
Her voice sharpened into a clear, steady gentleness—like a vow carved into stone.
"The moment I saw you, I realized what I truly want, as Cocolia."
She looked Serval straight in the eyes, each word unmistakable.
"I want to be with you."
Always.
Serval's breathing stopped. Her face flared red like a sunset.
Shock. Disbelief. Joy. Shyness.
A collision of emotions cracked across her eyes.
She lowered her head, voice so soft it almost vanished, asking for confirmation like she was afraid to hope.
"You're sure… that even after you go… you can still come back?"
Cocolia nodded firmly.
"That's what Aisen said."
"With his power, there's no reason for him to lie to me about something like this."
"It may take a long time," she admitted. "But we can return."
"Belobog will always be our root."
Serval fell silent.
A few seconds—so short, and yet as long as a lifetime.
Then she lifted her head.
Her cheeks were still red, but the hesitation was gone. Her eyes shone—bright, decisive.
She inhaled and said with absolute certainty:
"Fine."
She released Cocolia's hand, spun toward the workbench, steps suddenly light.
"I'm going to leave a letter for my brother and sister."
Watching Serval write quickly, focused, Cocolia's smile softened.
At that moment, the air shifted.
Aisen appeared—quiet as condensation forming from nothing.
"Done?" he asked flatly.
Cocolia turned to him. Her warmth remained, but her eyes became serious again.
"Yes. I'm ready."
Aisen nodded. "Good."
He opened a virtual screen for the Gourmet Chat Group and quickly tagged everyone.
[Group Owner (Aisen): @Everyone — Does anyone need management talent and tech talent?]
Serval finished the last word, set down the pen, folded the note carefully, and placed it on the counter.
She turned, gaze moving from Cocolia to Aisen—confusion first, then understanding.
So this must be the being from beyond the universe that Cocolia spoke of… their future "boss."
Serval stepped to Cocolia's side and, without thinking, laced her fingers tightly with Cocolia's.
Join here to read ahead.
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Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 170
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Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 66
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I, a Reincarnation-Loop Player Volume4/23
The Violent Girl Group Is Beat 106
Uma Musume: The Horse Girl Who 67
Uma Musume: From Beginner 125
Becoming a Horse Girl, I Will 85
Uma Musume: I Want All 105
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Hell-Difficulty Dungeon? 45
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Checking In in Demon Slayer 59
The Reincarnating Trainer of Tracen Academy 73
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My Best Friend Into a Slime? 36
A Saiyan Stands Above Marvel 40
What Do You Mean by Using a Lab Mod to Be the Hero? 60
Tanya Starts from Re:Zero 30
Why did they assign me to Uma 35
MYGO Beauties 43
DanMachi: Emiya the Giant Hero 30
The Gacha Merchant Who Started 31
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