Week after week, Sora spent more time with Emilia and Tola in her free time; the woman had become more of a presence in their lives as time went on with the continual romance training.
Emi was becoming a self-proclaimed expert on the subject through their movie nights, pointing out the obvious flirtatious hints the couples made that she thought no one would get. Tola was a good sport about it, but Sora had to deflate her kid’s ever-growing ego every so often, which was amusing.
On the downside, Kari was growing more distant, and it wasn’t particularly her fault, but she had little interest in the whole romance thing right now; her mind was focused solely on her training.
Sora imagined it had something to do with her mysterious father; she’d been adamant about discovering more about that side of her, spending much of her time in her personal chamber with her mother. Ultimately, it meant Kari would be older than her in the end, but that was whatever.
She was sad that the wolf was fixating so much on it, but she could totally understand and didn’t fault her. It was an exciting thing to know you had a father out there.
Sora certainly would want to discover more about her own father; unfortunately, he was kind of in an area code she couldn’t reach, and her attention-starved daughter wanted her all to herself.
Of course, it wasn’t all on Kari’s side; at the start of the 5th week, Eyia was often showing up to teach Emi more about using weapons, going so far as to teach her how to use chakrams—much to the girl’s delight—the prospect of throwing around her mother like a frisbee caused stars to shine in the twelve-year-old’s eyes.
Emi loved the expansion to her daily routine, with both Rayla and Luna also enjoying the martial arts training portions; Eyia even joined Sora a few days in her time-stretched room to teach her, as well, before making trips to the lovebirds, Liz eating it up.
Sora wasn’t sure if Eyia was consciously making the rounds to isolate the Fenris Wolf; it was hard to know what the Valkyrie culturally understood and didn’t. She erred on the more favorable side since the Asgardian was so honest and straightforward.
Eyia made it very clear she didn’t like Kari, which did cause a bit of anxiety in Emilia, and Sora knew her daughter wanted to talk to her about it but hadn’t had a chance with how busy they’d been in their studies and preparations for this day.
Three weeks had passed since Aunt Nari and Seiōbo had their tower fashion show for Emilia, and the pair returned to the river of time. On the other hand, tomorrow, Sunday, would be Sora’s 36th week since beginning this journey—a bit over eight months—and so much had happened in that time.
Kari and Emilia were becoming more independent, Liz and Aiden were going steady now—the vixen loving the term after going through one of Emilia’s doctorate class rants—and Tola and White had been on the up and down.
It was rough for the 30,000-year-old virgin, and some days, Emilia was the one to call a timeout to the woman’s protests—she’d become Tola’s self-appointed relationship coach.
No matter White’s attempts to explain the point was to see if the struggling woman could last the three months, Emi was developing a purely stubborn and indomitable will that she was always right; he couldn’t win no matter his stance with the one-track mind pre-teen.
Emilia was becoming a tad more argumentative and manipulative when trying to get her way, which made Sora giggle, recalling herself going through a similar stage with her caretaker in her own life.
Naturally, Sora had a bit of a stranglehold over her daughter, who blindly followed everything she said, even if she didn’t like it at times, but White was hitting her defensive wall when it came to Tola, and sometimes she’d use it as a club over his head to manipulate lessons to her own liking.
From what Sora could tell, it was a bit of a sore spot for the very well-educated and experienced Kitsune, and—despite his age—he was just as susceptible to Tola’s hypnotic spiritual pulse that Emilia instinctively zeroed in on to exploit, sometimes triggering a heightened frequency in Tola by off-handed romantic comments.
It was surprisingly devious and subtle. The pair couldn’t really call her out on it without her being able to play it off and deny the prods; matchmaker Emilia had her mysterious ways, after all, and everything was for the good of progress!
The hard part was Emilia was shockingly in tune with when the blue-furred Vulpes was nearing her breaking point, keying in and butting in between them; Tola was almost at the halfway point, which had White sweating—no small part on Emilia’s end—she was the little devil snickering at his back—and in another seven weeks, he’d need to accept that he could be loved.
Emilia WOULD make this couple happen; it was a pre-teen’s unbreakable hyper-focused will that she’d make into reality, and a lot of her daughter’s more childish traits were morphing into her own identity as she branched away from Sora’s memories to make her own.
Sora was a tad worried about how Emi would act as she continued to mature; she was already developing a strong personality, which was good, but she knew all too well what that meant. Then again, did she? It was a question she had to ask herself since her own teenage years had been filled with Kari’s bullying.
Looking at her sleeping daughter, curled up in fox form beside her, Sora smiled; she had the feeling Emilia would be asking for her own room soon, which made sense. At first, she’d been terrified Sora would disappear as she generally did with all of the craziness of their lives, but the consistency of the last six weeks was giving her a sense of security.
Nuzzling her nose closer to her daughter’s, Sora lifted her only free tail—the others wrapped up in Emilia’s—to allow one of her chakram replicas to slide off.
She sent the item out of the cracked door and downstairs to quietly slide open a window to exit the house; it would be another twenty minutes until Emilia awoke.
Using it as a scrying tool, she closed her eyes to pretend she was asleep, 360-degree vision scanning the brightening Vulpes capital. So much had changed since they first came to this oppressed Realm, and Qebhet was doing a phenomenal job smoothing over its citizens’ transition into a liberated society.
It was extremely challenging to generate an utterly non-profit-based economy with their expanding negative personality traits, yet with the Snake Goddess’ influence, they were developing a more ethical means of bartering that would develop into a currency.
Emilia was looking to score a killing on all the preparations she’d made over the last three weeks with her baked goodies, which helped stimulate the girl’s more industrious side for the festival.
Vulpes from all over the nation would be coming to get their first magical debit card that went to the Realm Core banking system that Emilia herself had a hand in creating, to her delight; in truth, Qebhet and Loral just needed her genetic override to implement it, but that didn’t stop Emilia from bragging about her accomplishment.
The monetary aspect gave a unique sense of independence and the dopamine kick of purchasing something from their own hard work. Qebhet had been going into overdrive, trying to set it up and create an understanding of market prices among the Vulpes on friendly competitive products to lower prices.
Sora wasn’t sure how it would last, but the little Snake Goddess believed it was necessary to generate a sense of reciprocity rather than a demanding or entitled mindset in the emotionally expanding population; labor and reward for it was critical in developing character.
One of the heartwarming scenes she’d come out to experience was seeing several women of various tails walking together in the early morning, heading out to set up their booths.
Adorable.
She smiled as three small, single-tailed foxes, likely ranging between three and ten, ran ahead of the Vulpes women and aged men; the mother, father, grandfather, and generations of grandmothers.
Qebhet had used her powers to identify family trees and mentally implant the information into the masses; families had been coming together and learning more about each other in the past six weeks, causing so many more children to flood the capital—much to Emilia’s delight.
Her daughter’s head grew bigger each day; she was beginning to be seen as somewhat of a celebrity. All the city was talking about how delicious her sweets were, and she knew it.
Floating through the street, she had several smiling humans and Vulpes wave at her chakram; apparently, another thing Qebhet had done was impress the story about their group’s path in freeing them into the population, including the three elders of the Council’s betrayal.
So many shining faces put a happy thump in Sora’s heart; all the struggles she’d gone through seemed worth it now. It was precisely how her aunt described it; the hero’s journey of diving into the chaos to confront tyranny to bring something of value to those in need.
Eight months felt like a lifetime, and she’d gained much more mastery over her defensive Null-Void abilities. She wasn’t weak anymore, and once again, her aunt had been right about the difference between corruption or tyranny and competence when it came to power.
When she saw someone she admired with power—like her aunts—their strength wasn’t the thing that caught her eye but their competence; she wanted to be like that… to be a role model for her daughter, as her aunts were to her.
She wanted to be the light shining in the dark; it was for these blissful grins she saw reflected in the citizens of her grandmother’s Realm, for her daughter, and not for some sense of control but to see the light in others. Still, Sora had her priorities, and that began with Emilia.
Chakram dissolving into Null-Void to be overtaken by Existence—if Sora wasn’t keeping its form, Existence would identify it as a threat and destroy the force; it was the link to her spirit that provided the backdoor—Sora opened her eyes to give her rousing daughter a toothy grin. “Morning!”
“Mmgm… morning… Yaaahrrrmm-mgmh. How long have you been up?” Emi asked, tails going stiff as she stretched across Sora’s fluffy stomach, having laid across it overnight.
“Not long. I took a stroll through the neighborhood; everyone seems super excited to try out the fabled Emi Spectacular Sweets Shop.”
Her daughter’s sapphire eyes blinked. “Oh? Oh! Are people talking about it?!”
Sora giggled as her daughter sat up, shimmering lights sparkling to reveal her bright, yellow polka dot nightgown and eager smile. “I heard a few kids talking about it. You want to get in the shower before Tola gets up? She’s been sleeping in a bit recently, hmm?”
“Hehehe! Yeah, I think she has White on her mind at night, so she gets a bit restless.”
Oh, the innocence of being a kid, Sora mused, knowing Emilia hadn’t reached that stage yet in her sexual development; she didn’t quite comprehend what her own statement meant, Inari not giving her a complete understanding of that aspect. We’ll have to talk about it soon since she’s a year older than the age I started, but every girl’s different.
Wanting to hold off until they could have a one-on-one time together to adequately explain it in the next few days, Sora suddenly froze, feeling a little hot herself as certain thoughts bubbled to the surface regarding a young twelve-year-old magical girl’s experience with sexual ideas.
“Mom?”
“Umm… Yeah, why don’t you take a shower first; I need to think about some stuff.”
“Uh, okay. Umm, what’s for breakfast, by the way?” she asked, stretching her developing chest out and groaning at the growing pains she was experiencing. “Ugh, please, no more eggs—gah, I’m over it!”
Following her example with her Chakram and Null-Void avatar, Sora unbound her hair to shake it out and run her fingers across her scalp. “Mmh, hehe… What about scones?”
Her daughter’s face instantly brightened. “With butter and chocolate ships?”
“Aha, my daughter is so cute! Yes, chocolate ships, naturally!”
“Sweet!”
Floating into the air to next exercise her spiritual flexibility a bit—something White taught her that helped to further support her development—she waved before making her way to the shower. “I’ll get the ingredients out while you shower!”
Sora hovered a few inches above the bed, staring up at the ceiling, but her thoughts were momentarily interrupted by Emilia darting back in with a confused look.
“Erm—the recipe is in that cookbook you had White get us, right?”
“Eh-heh, it has basically every recipe known to man in there—desire sorted! Doesn’t it?”
“Right… Just wanted to make sure.”
Cheeks coloring a bit at the obvious answer, Emilia went to have her shower—over the past week, Emilia was becoming far more independent—Rayla and Luna living alone was a bit of a trigger for it, and they often had private, mental communications with the twins seeking answers from their ’big sister’ figure.
Sora wondered if she’d need to adopt the pair since they didn’t have any family; Emilia certainly was attached to the kids, and it was nice to have Emi trying to be more responsible by setting an example.
“Mmgm…”
Glaring up at the ceiling, thoughts that had never crossed her mind suddenly gave her anxiety.
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Emi is becoming more of a teen, which means she’ll start getting more forward with boys… She’s already shown interest in several in the neighborhood, showing off to them. The girl’s confidence is shooting to the stars in a shockingly short time, but that’s a kid for you… Wait, I’m going to have my seventeenth birthday in another two months…
Damn, has that much time passed? No, get your mind back on track! Emilia… and sex… The things a mom needs to think about, she internally grumbled, cheeks darkening. If Emilia can grow trees, accelerate life, shape elements into so many things… What’s to stop her from generating her own pretend boyfriend or plaything… Mind-control one of the boys into doing whatever she wants?
“Ugh!”
It’s so much more complicated than a typical teenager! Sora hissed, sitting up to glare at her bare knees and thigh-high, cream nightgown. If Emilia gets too rough or pushy, she could really hurt someone, and she can do some insane things with her magic…
Dammit! She could tell the Realm to create someone for her to use—it’s powerful enough to create life itself—and how would I even know if she did that? Emi could have this dream guy from one of her movies made or possibly… It could kidnap one of the multiversal fragments of an actor she likes in her teen romance dramas.
Qebhet has a lot of administrator rights over the Realm Core, but Emilia’s got a direct tap to the point she could lock her out or hide stuff from her; the Core is a high 12th-dimensional sphere hidden inside of a universe.
No, Aunt Inari probably set boundaries, knowing her… unless she wanted me to be more of a mother and take responsibility for my kid… which sounds like something she’d do.
“Oh, no…”
“What’s up, Mom—you okay?” Emilia called out, knowing she’d be able to hear her from the shower; each of the rooms was soundproof if the doors were shut. “You keep moaning and groaning. Hehe, like an old woman!”
“Shut your face!” Sora joked, making the girl giggle; Emilia had been developing humorous antics that Sora wouldn’t have dared to do with her father.
“I bet it’s all that time you spend in that time thing, Mom! Hehe, you’re gonna be older than Aunt Nari soon, Boomer!”
Sora regretted teaching her daughter the phrase; the girl used it on anyone who was even a little older than her, especially White.
“At least I know how to wash my tail and make scones!”
“I know how to wash my tail—and you don’t even have to!” she accused. “You just make a new body! Cheater!”
“Pfft! Talk about a Zoomer—I was cleaning myself with magic before you were born!”
“A day! A day before I was born! And your old tails can’t even do that anymore. Hah!” she proudly jabbed, massaging conditioner into her fur and hair. “I win!”
“Your right—I moved to the next step and just made a new body—see, done! Wow, so slow, Emi… you still in the shower?”
“Go polish your dull frisbee, curtsy Boober! N-No!”
“Oh, Boober, huh?”
“Boomer! You know what I mean, Mom! I didn’t say that!”
“I do have a nice rack. Thanks for the compliment, Emi; you’ll grow; give it time!”
“Shut your frisbee hole, Mom! Hah, I’m way curvier than you were at twelve!”
“You sure?” Sora asked, browsing through her closet between several outfits her daughter had fashioned. “Think again.”
“Huh? No, uh… I’m… I’ll show you!”
“Oh, gonna show me how good your illusions are?”
“Go play with a dog!”
“Mmh…” Selecting a deep blue dress, Sora looked at herself in the mirror, holding it up. “Oh, bold, Emi. Should I tell Kari you’re calling her a dog now?”
“It’s not true! Don’t you dare!”
“Hmm-hmm-hmm.” Adding matching low heels and underwear as Emilia giggled at their back and forth; the whole point was to try and see who could outdo one another, and her daughter was at a whopping 1 win to 11 losses now. “Looks like I’ll beat you to the—oh, morning Tola.”
On leave for the foreseeable future, the current poor Blue Council member looked like a frantic woman who worked three jobs and had just got up after doing a 48-hour shift and crashed for fifteen hours.
“Ygmmgmm… Doing the insult thing again?” she dully grumbled, clearly not having a restful night after the previous day with White had utterly drained her; Sora thought the guy was pushing out of desperation, but savior Emilia had come to her rescue.
“Eh-hehe. I take it you’re still spiritually drained?”
“Huh? Is Tola okay, Mom?”
“I’m… doing wonderful, Lady Emi, Lady Sora…”
“Uh-oh—Mom, she needs a booster; we need ice cream on the side, STAT—the premium spiritual stuff!”
Ironically, Emilia wasn’t wrong, and she’d intentionally had White show her how to develop it to have a reserve stock in cases like this; Sora could practically see her devious, golden bombshell of a blonde aunt giving a snickering peace sign.
Her daughter was becoming surprisingly crafty as she spent more time with the pair, and Sora couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with the unusual cryptic book Nari had given the girl that only Emi could read.
“On it, Dr. Emi,” Sora giggled, motioning to the drained Vulpes, her nine tails dragging along the floor and clearly too tired to even think about protesting. “Let’s get you fixed up, Tola; we’re making scones today.”
“Mmh.”
“Heard of them?”
“Mmh-uh… Is White coming?”
“Thankfully, no, hehe.”
“Yeah. He’s terrorizing Liz today! Hehe. Remember; he told us yesterday?”
“Oh. No, it’s still… kind of a blur—I think I felt good last night, though…”
Yeah, it’s worse than last week; White’s getting desperate. She’s so sapped; she has a spotted memory.
“Just sit there, and I’ll get things ready. You’re close to done—I thought you were a Zoomer, not a Boomer, slowpoke—’cause I know you’re not a Boober! Hehe.”
“You suck, Mom; I’ve got eight flippin’ tails to wash!”
“Short tails.”
“T-They’re not that short…”
Oof. Bit too far on that one.
“You’re right! You’re right; they’re super cute! So, how’s your foxfire coming along?” she redirected, taking out a bowl and the big, gallon tub of hyper-spiritually-charged ice cream to drop two scoops of the vanilla-flavored treat into the container. “I heard you’re having trouble with offensive stuff.”
“Eh, I’m getting there—I don’t know how you were so good at it, Mom, and lightning is so difficult to keep going without freakin’ zapping myself!”
Sora winced again, seeing Tola’s frazzled blue locks draped across the counter, her forehead and bare arms resting against the cool marble; she looked terrible, and she still had seven weeks, but they’d get through it.
“You’re way better at a lot of other things I couldn’t even dream of doing; I think it’s just different talents—here you go, Tola,” she smiled, ears folding back a tad as the woman forced herself up, showing dark bags under her eyes.
“Thanks…”
“No problem; take it easy, Tola.”
“Mhm…”
Leaving the real Boomer to recover, Sora began getting out the proper ingredients, adding some fruit to the list for a side dishe, and generating her lost chakram back to fit around her middle tail.
“How many chocolate chips do you want?”
“All the chocolate chips!”
“Hehe. Okay, Lil’ Miss Princess. If you take too long, we will miss the opening ceremony in the Section Main Square.”
“I’m going as fast as I can, Mom! Gah…”
“No kidding; Tola, I think yesterday she used an ’entire’ bottle of conditioner—the whole thing!”
“I need a lot, okay? I have so much more fur than you!”
“Pfft, not when it comes to density, Sweetie.”
“Shut-up! I totally do—it must be your Boomer eyes acting up again!”
Tola giggled at their antics, looking a little better as she observed Sora bustling around the kitchen, tails weaving back and forth.
“Ah! That must be it—it’s not like earlier this week when I was washing your tails, I only used a tenth of what you do.”
“I make the conditioner; I can use as much as I want!”
“More isn’t always better, Sweetie.”
“Says you, but I think a lot of chocolate is always better!”
“I do find myself agreeing there,” Tola weakly laughed.
“See! You’re more of a Boomer than Tola! Poor, poor, Mom—I’m going to have to ask White how I can cure your brain and eyes before it’s too late!”
“Maybe he should start with this ’Boober’ business your brain’s been on—hehe, seems something we should look into—an infection to my poor, poor Zoomer!”
“Why do you keep bringing that up! It was a mista—are you making fun of my boobs again?!”
“I’d never!”
“Liar! You totally did!”
“Would a mother do that?”
“You would!”
“Tola,” she play-cried, drama leaking from her voice, “do you see the accusations this tragic mother deals with while slaving away in the kitchen?”
“Oh, boo-hoo! I’m so oppressed,” Emilia snickered. “Okay, I’m getting out!”
“Goodie!” Sora snickered, dropping the dough they’d made two days ago into the pan, preparations done. “So, Emi, what are you gonna wear—same old ’boring’ thing?”
“Stuff your tail in your mouth—it’s not boring—you’re boring!”
“Another word slip, Honey? Heh. It’s called classy, Sweetie.”
“Boober—dammit—that’s your fault for repeating it!”
Sora and Tola laughed as Emilia stormed into their shared room to pick out the items she’d been agonizing over the night before.
Finishing up a scone by the time her daughter came downstairs, Sora gave her a charming smile. “Aww, so adorable!”
“Stop, Mom!”
“No, really! The black tank top with the see-through blouse, suspenders, and red shorts suits you—hmm-hmm, and the dark glasses and fedora are cute—tights, too; so mature!”
“Don’t p-patro… patro… mmgm…”
“Patronize?” Sora asked, tilting to give her a side-long smirk.
“Yeah! Don’t patronize me! And I knew the word; it just… took me a second—you didn’t tell me!”
“Oh, certainly not! Hmm-hmm. Really, though, you’re figuring out your own style. The cream boots are great. Where’d you learn that one; I didn’t have shoes like that.”
“Hmm? Yeah, they are adorable—kind of the color of your nightgown last night—which was totally beautiful. Hmm-hmm, but of course it would be!” she exclaimed, preening. “After all, I made it!”
“Definitely! Of course, it would look great on me since, ya know, I’m just so hot.”
“Don’t let your ego show, Mom!” Emilia snickered, “but you totally are—literally on fire!”
“Oh, this?” Sora questioned, gesturing to her flaming copper locks. “I mean, anything I can do, you can look forward to in the future—probably—or maybe even better!”
“Really? You think I could have cool fire hair, too? That’d be so sweet!”
“Oh, totally! Well, first scones are up—here ya go!” Sora said, positioning one chakram over the pan as she flipped them up for her second to position over the plate in front of Emilia, causing it to land perfectly.
“Ho-ho! But can you do this?!” Emilia boasted, Tola watching with a small smile as she manipulated the atmospheric magic to open the cupboard and pluck out the honey—her favorite—and guide it to smother her bread. “I’m getting good, huh, Tola?”
“Indeed, Lady Emilia.”
“Feeling better?”
“Much. Thanks to the two of you; I appreciate the attention you show me. I am honored.”
“Pfft—I always tell you to call me Emi, but you’re always so stubborn—just like someone else I know! Mmm! So good, Mom! We should have this for dinner, too!”
“Breakfast for dinner?”
“Breakfast for dinner!”
“Well, we do have more dough to use.”
“Yes! Can Rayla and Luna join?”
“Sure.”
“Sweet!”
She quieted down, mouth filling with the food, and Sora moved to the magical fridge to extract some milk for her daughter. It didn’t take too long for the next batch to be done, and she placed it on Tola’s plate before making her own.
Laughing at her daughter’s vigor and figuring she’d want another, Sora gave the girl her own before making another for herself.
“You’re the best, Mom!”
“Best Mom of the year!”
“Across the multiverse!”
“Oh, big awards today—thank you, thank you—I couldn’t have done it without my darling daughter—who’s single, by the way!”
“Pfft—ack! Don’t you dare, Mom—ever!”
“Hmm-hmm! Are you ready for a big turnout and fun time at the festival today?”
“You know it! Didn’t I tell you Qebby would love the idea!”
Amused at the nickname her daughter had given the Snake Goddess, Sora nodded. “You did! So, we should get ready soon; an all-day thing, and we got some breakfast items for you to show off your magical skills in reheating them for people.”
“I know—Mom, I made them.”
“Just saying, we should finish up soon—eh, Tola?”
“I can prepare myself swiftly,” she chuckled, snapping her fingers to suddenly be fresh and dressed to impress, complete with a summer hat with areas cut out for her ears. “I can manage at least this much with the support you’ve given me.”
“So not fair,” Emilia grumbled at her ease of getting ready, finishing with blowing bubbles into her milk, which comically left a white mustache.
“Well, let’s finish up, clean up, and get ready for a magical day!”
“Yeah! Oh, Mom, what’s Auntie Kari and Auntie Eyia doing?”
“Mmh… I know you’re concerned about both of them.”
“They’re always fighting… Will they ever get along?”
Well… I wouldn’t say ’they’ are fighting, but Eyia fouls the mood and drives her off—Kari just doesn’t want to cause a conflict, which… Yeah, times have changed.
“Haaa… I don’t know; it’s complicated. I’m trying to figure it out, but they’ll be off doing their own things today.”
“Aww, I hoped they’d be free. I haven’t seen Auntie Kari in a while… Is she okay?”
“Mhm. She’s figuring stuff out with her mom. No need to worry about that blockhead!”
“She’s not stupid, Mom.”
“I know, but she’s still a blockhead, right?”
“Hehe! Not as bad as Auntie Eyia!”
“Well, heh, we agree there!”
Once done, Emilia and Tola helped her with the dishes, and they set out, Sora leaving behind one of her chakrams to act as their shipping device in their storage area, where they’d kept everything for safekeeping—her daughter was learning how to do temporary chronological locking on non-living things—which was insane; it may only last for 24 hours, but that was huge.
Prancing through the streets with her strutting daughter, proud of her new outfit and certainly drawing eyes with the outlandish style, Sora couldn’t be happier. Sure, Kari was discovering more about herself and growing a bit distant, but she still had her adorable, ever-growing, rebellious daughter to contend with.
In a way, she thought Emilia was one reason she kept away, allowing her more time to spoil Emilia while they still had the time.
A lot more people had flooded into the capital, and as they laughed and joked, Sora sent her one free chakram copy that wouldn’t be busy into the air to give her a better grasp of the scope; it was like watching an otherworldly bustle of Miami again with thousands of fox girls and humans intermingling.
It was so wholesome to see the bright-eyed throng arriving in the city through the teleport gates from across the planet to explore the colossal, now open metropolis.
Sora came to a complete stop, making a giggling Emilia and Tola slow.
“Totally, I think we’ll have—Mom?” she looked from her to Sora’s chakram in the sky. “Eh… what’s wrong?”
Trying to not let her expression darken, Sora cleared her voice and floated a little into the sky, causing her dress to flutter slightly. “I need to go see someone. Tola, can you take Emi to the plaza? I’ll be there shortly.”
“Okay?”
“Hngh… Don’t be too long, Mom—you’re kind of the shipping lady…”
“Yup! Yup! I don’t wanna get fired!”
“Hehe. Okay, love you!”
“Love you!”
Waving her off, Sora became a streak as she shot into the sky to meet her recon chakram to glare at a nearby alley, where a shabbily dressed, black-haired woman seemed to be trying to sleep; mind and heart going cold, she hovered to the location, descending slowly while analyzing every part of the hated witch’s Existence.
“Diane… Why are you here?”