before

Nova soared through the skies atop a colossal dragon, its scales a gradient of deep black to a shimmering light green. The dragon’s head was as dark as midnight, with eyes that burned a vivid fire-green, crackling with electric energy that sparked from its maw. As the dragon descended toward the ground, where Cascadia clung to a young boy, its immense form began to shrink, the once solid scales becoming translucent. The creature’s wings, once mighty and powerful, faded to a ghostly green as it glided closer, until finally, as Nova neared the earth, the dragon dissolved completely, its essence flowing back into Nova’s hair in a wisp of shimmering light.

Nova landed softly beside Cascadia, his now human form radiating the faintest trace of the dragon's energy. His gaze shifted to the young boy at Cascadia's feet—battered, bruised, and barely conscious. The boy's T-shirt, once white, was now a filthy rag, stained with dirt and blood appearing to haven’t changed in a year. The sight tugged at Cascadia's heart, despite all her power as the Goddess of this realm.

Nova knelt beside her, his presence steady and calm. He placed a hand gently on her arm, his voice low but firm. "You have to kill him," he said, the words heavy with the weight of necessity. "You have to let him reset. It’s the only way."

Cascadia's heart wavered. She knew Nova was right—this was the way of their world, a painful but necessary rebirth. Yet, despite all her power and wisdom, she couldn't bring herself to let him go. She hesitated, her eyes locked on the boy, knowing that in this moment, even as a goddess, she was just a person who didn't want to lose someone she could save.

Nova knelt beside Cascadia, watching as she cradled him in her arms, gently rocking him back and forth. The boy's breathing was shallow, his face a mess of bruises and cuts. Cascadia's eyes were filled with sorrow.

“Cascadia,” Nova began softly, trying to reach her through the storm of emotions.

“You know this is what’s best. If you let him reset, he can start anew, without the weight of this suffering.”

Cascadia looked up at him, her eyes wet with tears. “Look at this baby, his face, Nova. You expect me to just end this?” She tightened her hold on the boy, her voice trembling with emotion.

“How can you ask me to take away the only life he has left?”

Nova's gaze softened, understanding the depth of her pain.

“I understand, truly, I do. But he’s not lost forever. If you let him reset, he will be reborn—he’ll have another chance. He won’t carry this pain with him.”

Cascadia shook her head, her voice breaking.

“We don’t know that, Nova! Because they took his orb! He’s more than just a body. They’ve taken something from him, something that resetting I don’t think will be restored. I can’t let him go knowing that!”

Nova’s expression grew more urgent, yet he remained calm. “Cascadia, you’re right—they’ve taken a piece of him. But saving him now, with these memories, will leave him with scars that may never heal. He’ll live, but he won’t be whole. You can’t heal him completely, not like this.”

Cascadia’s grip tightened, her voice filled with a desperate resolve.

“I can’t just stand by and let him be lost to this! I refuse to let him go!”

With a sharp motion, she snapped her fingers. The lantern flared, bathing the area in a blinding light. Nova’s silent human form began to disintegrate, the wind carrying the dust of his being away. As the last traces of him vanished, Cascadia looked down at this fading boy, her heart heavy with the weight of her choice, the world around her eerily silent, as if holding its breath.

prolog

Mal’s room was what one might call a “solid nerd cave,” a fortress of video game, manga, and anime greatness. Sure, it was a pretty good-sized room for any normal house, but let’s be honest: compared to his sisters’ rooms, it was practically a broom closet. Each one of them had bigger rooms, because of course, the universe liked to remind him that he was, in fact, the baby of the family.

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Still, his room had everything perfectly organized on custom shelves, manga color-coded and alphabetized. Neatly stacked rows of action figures from various anime series keeping watch over him. His prized possessions. The shelves weren’t just a collection—they were a masterpiece, a tribute to him and the things that brought joy.

Right now, though, Mal wasn’t paying much attention to the organized glory of his room. Instead, he was focused on the intense dungeon on his screen. He was playing with his normal crew Momo, Mika, Evan and Robbie all on voice chat, when his door creaked open.

Aurora, the oldest, slipped in, giving him the patented mom stare.

“Don’t stay up all night playing video games, Mal. Tomorrow’s your first day of school. You need sleep.”

She said it like it was a legal obligation. Aurora was always the responsible one—currently juggling her doctorate program, the entire family’s sanity, and apparently Mal’s bedtime, too.

Mal sighed dramatically.

“I know, Aurora. I’m not a kid anymore, I’m going to college just like you, ya know!”

From his headset, Momo chimed in, “Your mom goes to college.”

“Really?” Mal rolled his eyes. “I don’t need commentary from the peanut gallery.”

Aurora shook her head, doing that thing where she looked disappointed but in a way that still made you feel guilty, even though you hadn’t done anything wrong. “I’m serious. School’s important. Don’t let this stuff distract you.”

“I won’t,” Mal said, fully intending to play another two hours minimum. As she left the room, his friends snickered in his ear.

“She’s like, your second mom, dude,” Robbie chuckled.

“Shut up.”

“Aww did I hurt your feelings silver spoons?” Robbie responded jesting to his arguably enviable home life.

Before Mal could make a comeback, the door creaked open again.

Riko, his second-oldest sister, stepped in holding a small bag of gummy vitamins, her eyebrows raised like she was delivering some world-shattering gift.

“Here,” she said, “Aurora thought you might need these sleepy-time gummies.”

Mal stared at the gummies, blinking slowly.

“I know,” Riko said, way too calmly for someone offering a bag of children’s sleep aids to an almost 19-year-old.

Another voice through the headset. “Bro, your mom really goes to college.”

“I will break your controller,” Mal grumbled, while Riko just smiled knowingly and left the room, closing the door with eerie politeness. His friends were cackling on the other end, and Mal sighed, tossing the gummies into a drawer in his desk.

Just as he was about to settle back in, the door opened once again, this time quietly.

Elara slipped in like a ninja, holding a perfectly folded stack of clothes. She dropped it on his bed and gave him a mock bow, sweeping one arm grandly across her chest.

“There you go,” she said with a wink. “Freshly folded by yours truly.”

“That’s nice, I guess,” Mal muttered, not even sure how to respond. Was this…sisterly kindness? From Elara?

His friends, unsurprisingly, had more thoughts.

“At least that’s helpful,” Robbie commented.

Within minutes of Elara’s departure, the door was thrown open like a battering ram had just been applied to it.

 Sumi, the youngest sister, burst in with all the subtlety of a tornado. The door handle slammed into the wall, directly on top of a dent from repeated entries she made like this.

Sumi glanced around the room like she was doing some kind of impromptu inspection.

He sighed. “Can I help you?”

“Nope,” she replied with zero interest in whatever he was doing. She spotted the neatly folded clothes on the bed, snatched a hoodie from the bottom of the pile (sending the rest tumbling to the floor), and turned on her heel.

“That’s my hoodie!” He snapped, flabbergasted.

Sumi glanced back over her shoulder, smirking. “Duh. I’m wearing it tomorrow, idiot.” And with that, she sauntered out, slamming the door behind her.

Mal threw up his hands in exasperation. “She’s a piece of work, that one,” he muttered aloud.

From his headset, Robbie chimed in, “Yeah, but she’s so hot.”

“Totally,” Momo added.

Mal shot them both a dirty look through the screen. “Could we not talk about my sister like that?”

Before either of them could defend themselves, Robbie yawned. “Sorry, my dad needs me in the café tomorrow. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Momo added, “and besides, Mal’s gotta go to bed, or Aurora’s gonna ground him.” They both snickered.

“Goodnight, you clowns,” Mal said, shaking his head.

“You gonna snatch me up on the way tomorrow?” Momo asked

“Fo sho, I’ll grab you at the bridge meeting spot.”

“Bet”

As his friends logged off, Mal collapsed onto his bed, still fully clothed. He sprawled out on top of the comforter, staring up at the Anime figures that decorated his walls—creatures from games and shows he loved.

He draped an arm over his eyes and let out a long breath.

Living with four sisters was bad enough.

But living with these four sisters? That was a whole new level of chaos. These weren’t just any ordinary siblings. No, no, these divas— were the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. You know, world-enders, cosmic balance-restorers, and the kind of ladies who had paved their way with the ashes of fallen empires. All packed into a penthouse suite and somehow still managing to argue about laundry and who drank the last cup of coffee.

It wasn’t exactly what you’d call “normal.”

But then again, normal was overrated.