By every standard that mattered in the known galaxy, the city of Holy Throne was both small and unimportant.

Of course, that city was home to a happy and growing population, one that was fiercely proud of its achievements thus far. But then again, those sorts of things were always a matter of perspective.

After all, even though the sky above Holy Throne was dotted with artificial lights, the trail of starships going to and from orbit, they still had only developed flight some two hundred years before. And even though their entire planet had been unified under a single banner for more than a century, their existence was only worth a footnote in the history books of larger and older empires.

So, for all that Holy Throne was the most advanced and well-developed city on the entire planet, it was still just a city. And the Theocracy of Dango, of which that city was the capital, was still barely a blip on the map of the greater factions that existed in the galaxy.

And yet, despite the galaxy’s indifference towards it, the sun rose on its horizon yet again, marking the beginning of another day.

Holy Throne was a city that had been built by design. Founded by the Pope himself after he had unified the entire planet under his faith, it was created to be a place of worship as much as it was a metropolis. Its buildings were placed in a display of concentric circles, the golden trim of their roofs forming great rings of light when seen from above as they reflected the rising sun.

At the center of that city was a great castle. The Vatican. The seat and center of the religion of Dango. A single ring-shaped structure dotted with towers that pierced the clouds.

Just as the first rays of sunlight reached the Vatican, a soft and resonating tone could be heard coming from it. As the grand crystal bells enclosed within the spirals of the Vatican began to chime, spurring the faithful city into a new morning of prayer and activity.

And within one of the innumerable rooms of that castle, one that was pitch black with its windows tightly shut, a figure stirred.

“Hmmmmmm…”

Calling it a figure didn’t seem entirely adequate, though. If anything, the thing would be better described as a lump. A small lump, formed by something that was curled up under the covers of a bed.

Still, that figure, that curled up lump that was under the thick blankets, stirred. It stirred every time the crystal bells rang, moving and squirming a little bit and forcing itself to stop right after. It was obvious, then, that the lump had already woken up, but was still trying to deny that fact with all its might.

Another faraway chime of the bells rang through the dark room. And, as if trying to resist them, the lump hugged the thing it was clutching against its chest even tighter.

“!!!”

Which immediately caused an alarmed noise to fill the room, the stillness of the thing under the covers suddenly giving way to a short struggle, as something fought to free itself.

“Ahh!” and moments later, a small blur shot out from under the blankets, running to the far side of the room. Heaving like a person who had very nearly drowned.

The blur, which revealed itself to be a small car of soft white fur and purple eyes, seemed to run his paws over his body for a few moments, as if checking if all his members were still intact.

And then, with an angry expression that was very uncharacteristic to a cat, he once again turned to face the lump of covers that was on the bed.

“I know you don’t want to wake up,” the cat said out loud, angrily stomping with his tiny paws closer to the bed, “but did you really have to squeeze me like that?!”

But the lump under the covers didn’t seem to care for the cat’s complaints, much to the feline’s indignation. He shook his head as he continued to observe the unmoving blankets, not sure if he should wait for a reaction or not. Narrowing his eyes as he very carefully continued to approach the bed.

And moments later, the cat’s caution proved itself valid. Because as soon as he was close enough to the covers, a hand all but lunged at him, reaching for the cat with a speed that betrayed its previous stillness. With a yelp and a fright, the cat jumped back, barely escaping the hand.

A vaguely audible grumble came from the covers, as the hand retracted back into them.

“Alright, you asked for this,” the cat answered, rolling his eyes in annoyance and bounding towards the room’s window. Throwing the curtains to the side and opening it right after, allowing the light of the rising sun to shine into the room.

“No! The ssuuunn…! It burns!” a voice came from the messy blankets almost immediately, as the figure underneath them began to flail. Each clumsy attempt at bringing the covers together somehow spreading them out even more. To the point that soon enough the figure was totally uncovered, the blankets spread around the bed or even thrown to the ground.

Finally revealing what was previously hiding under them.

A young girl, still a ways from her teenage years, was sitting on the bed with a sleepy expression, both of her hands covering her eyes. Her hair was long and messy, its strawberry pink color making her look even younger than she already was, blending almost perfectly with the pink pajamas she was wearing, which was covered with the tiny drawings of white animals.

“Dummy…” was all she said, the sleepiness in her tone drowning out whatever spark of irritation that she might have been feeling. She then began to very tentatively take her hands off from her eyes, blinking several times as she tried to get used to the sudden light in her room.

But the one that she was talking to, the cat that was looking at her this whole time, was now gone. Instead, a young boy who was maybe the same age as her was sitting on the windowsill. His legs dangling into the room, with his back to the rising sun as he looked at the young girl with his purple eyes.

The boy had short black hair, wearing a sleeveless shirt and a pair of shorts. However, much like the figure that had been occupying his place mere moments before, he also had two cat-like ears jutting out of his head. The black of his hair contrasting with the fur on his ears, as well as with the white feline tail that was dangling leisurely out through the window behind him. He had the skinny energy that only an eleven-year-old boy could have, and his alert and awake appearance couldn’t have been more at odds with the girl’s sleepiness.

Still, there was a resemblance between the two that even their different expressions could not hide. And even though they were almost completely different at first glance they also shared a dozen tiny similarities, from the shape of their noses to the line of their cheeks, that could not possibly be just a coincidence.

The way the boy talked, as well, made it clear that what they shared was more than simple familiarity.

“Well, are we awake? Can we finally begin our day or are we still in a strangling mood?” he asked, ears twitching lightly as a fresh breeze came in through the open window.

“Dummy…” was all that the girl said once again. However, a few moments later, she finally turned her back to him, lazily rubbing her eyes as she sat down in a more comfortable way on her bed.

And that was the signal that the boy had been waiting for.

This was, so to speak, a small ritual between the two of them. Something that always happened whenever the girl had a nightmare and asked if he could sleep with her. Swinging his legs for a tiny bit of impulse, Schrodinger jumped from the windowsill where he was sitting and went on to sit on the bed behind his sister. His hands immediately setting to work on her strawberry-pink hair with an ease that spoke volumes of how often he did that.

“Ehh… your hair is a bit messier than usual today. Hold on, I’ll go grab the hairbrush.”

Not waiting for the mumbled answer that would come from her, he moved towards the nightstand by the bed and picked up the brush that he kept there just for that.

“Which is a bit weird. I mean, you didn’t toss and turn nearly as much last night, so I have no idea why your hair is like this.” He continued saying, as he gently began to brush the long hair in front of him. Continuing to talk normally even though his sister didn’t say anything back and his words were quickly turning into a one-sided conversation.

Although to be honest, he didn’t really mind that she wasn’t answering. In fact, it would be very unusual if she said anything at all. There was nothing wrong with her voice, of course, but still…

Well, Schrodinger was acutely aware of how much she liked his company.

It was obvious, really. At least for him it was obvious. After all, he had already noticed a long time ago how she looked, how uncomfortable she felt, when she was around other children their age. Or even when they were with the adults. He had already realized that he was one of the very few people around which she truly seemed to be at ease. And what is more, he also knew that she liked to hear him talk, or at least she would always look up at him, with eyes full of expectation and unease, whenever he stopped talking.

So, there was no reason for him not to talk. There was no reason for him not to do something his little sister liked.

There were many strange things about his sister. Schrodinger didn’t think that her being quiet was one of them, of course, even though he had already heard some priests whisper about that when they though no one was hearing them. But still, there were many strange things about Pandora.

Like the fact that she was almost always sick or ill.

Well, sick wasn’t really the best way to describe it. But the thing is that Pandora would sometimes look very tired, even though she hadn’t really done a lot of things throughout the day. And sometimes, even though she looked completely fine, their father would take her somewhere saying that she needed to take a special medicine. But still, what he really found strange about all of this was that no matter how many times he asked, the adults would never tell him exactly what kind of illness she had.

Another strange thing about his sister was that she had never left the castle. Or rather, the adults had never allowed her to leave the Vatican.

Still, for all that he thought that to be strange, he didn’t really think any of that was suspicious. After all, it was their parents that were doing all of that. Schrodinger wouldn’t have felt good about his sister’s situation if it was just the priests saying that she was ill, given how he had already noticed the strange way some of them stared at his sister. But since it was their parents that were taking care of that, then he was sure it was for the best.

And of course, the strangest thing about his sister was that… well, it was something that was right in front of him at that very moment.

He had been brushing her hair for a few minutes now, and thanks to his efforts the messiness that he was staring at previously was completely gone. Not long ago this would have taken him a lot longer, and he would have heard quite a few mumbles and groans of pain every time he brushed over a knot in her hair too quickly. But that wasn’t something that happened nearly as much nowadays.

So, leaving the brush aside, he began the second part of his task.

Pandora’s hair was straight and pink, and it had a soft and pleasant smell about it thanks to the shampoo she always used. However, now that her hair was brushed and tamed, he could clearly see that… well, that not all of her hair was like that.

Near the back of her head, on both the right and left sides, she had a pair of large dark spots on her skin. They would normally be hard to notice, of course, since most of the time they would have been covered by her glossy pink hair.

However, that was another peculiar thing about his sister.

The hair that grew out of those particular spots was… different. Very rarely her normal pink hair would grow from those two spots, but most of the time what came from there instead were strange and dark strands of hair, which had a weirdly hard appearance to them almost as if they had been burned but continued to grow regardless.

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In fact, more than just looking like burned hair, he knew that if he brought his nose close to them, they would also smell the part. Although, of course, that wasn’t an aspect about herself that his sister liked to be reminded about.

Which was why, as part of their small ritual, Schrodinger would also do what he was doing at that moment.

“Alright, now we’re all set,” he said.

Getting up from the bed and taking a few steps back, Schrodinger allowed himself to appreciate his own handiwork. After all, looking at the back of his sister’s hair, there were no traces of the strange burnt hair to be seen. Instead, two twinned pink braids were covering them up, flowing out from the back of her head until they reached the middle of her back.

He knew that Pandora’s mother could make them look a lot better, but he was sure that he would reach that level someday.

“Thanks, big bro!” she said, turning back to face him as she traced her braids with one of her hands.

And he couldn’t help but smile a little bit, as he looked at the giddy expression she was wearing while saying those words. It was very rare for her to look like that, or even speak in that cheerful tone, when there were other people around, so he always felt like he was doing something right whenever he saw her smile that way.

But of course, seeing her act all happy like that also made him realize that she was now fully awake. Which also meant, he remembered with a jolt, that it was getting late!

“You’re welcome Pan,” he said, his words slightly more rushed than normal, as he began making his way around her bed and towards the door. “And I think it’s about time I get going.”

“No, wait!” but he barely took three steps towards the door, before the girl practically tackled his arm in a two-handed grip.

And just like that, all the warm and fuzzy feelings he had felt, from making his little sister happy, were immediately replaced by a growing wave of annoyance.

Although to be fair, he wasn’t surprised that was happening. in fact, he had already accepted that, apparently, that last bit was also a part of their “ritual”. At least from his sister’s perspective. So, the thing he was actually annoyed about was how quickly his sister lunged at him.

Really, he could have sworn he would have made it to the door before she could get to him. But the girl seemed to be getting faster with each passing day!

“You do know,” he said, taking a deep breath, refusing to even turn towards her as he spoke, “that I need to get back to my room, right? You do know how angry my mom gets when I don’t get ready in time, don’t you?”

“But you always get there on time anyways!” the girl answered without skipping a beat, and he wondered if she even thought about her words before saying them. “And besides I… I want you to help me get dressed and stuff!”

Schrodinger felt his eyebrows twitch at that, his expression slowly becoming less and less patient as he came to terms with the fact that his sister was being unreasonable. As usual. And that no matter what he said she wouldn’t take no for an answer. As usual. And that there was only one way for him to get out of that situation. As usual.

Really, it was almost impossible to imagine that his drowsy and quiet little sister from a few minutes ago was the same creature that was now holding on to his arm with a vice-like grip.

“I can guarantee you,” he said, still refusing to even look back at her, “that you don’t need my help getting dressed. And you definitely don’t need help with whatever other and stuff you’re trying to come up with.”

He said that, but the only answer he got was the sound of his sister planting one of her feet on the bed’s footboard. Which he knew, from experience, was a sign that she was getting ready to pull his arm with her entire body if he tried to get away from her.

A short, annoyed sigh came out from him when he realized that, once again, Pandora was fully committed to this. And that their silent and unmoving poses, with his back turned to her while she firmly held on to his arm, had turned into a standoff of sorts.

“Fine, we can do this the hard way,” Schrodinger said.

And then he took a step forward.

With that, a dozen different sounds came to his ears at the same time. He could hear the wooden footboard of her bed creak, as his sister desperately tried to use it as foothold. He could hear Pandora let out a low, strained groan as she tried her best to pull him back towards her. Heavens, he even thought he heard the bed itself being dragged a few inches.

But still, despite all her efforts…

“Why… are… you… so… stubborn!” he heard her say, every word out of her mouth requiring more effort than the last.

Because despite all her efforts, he was barely using any force at all.

But not because Pandora herself was weak, mind you. Thankfully, despite her illness, she wasn’t actually frail. He could feel that she was giving it her all, and he could tell that she was just as strong as any girl her age. But still, the gap between their physical strength meant that she still couldn’t pull him even a single inch towards her.

And of course, Schrodinger was two years older than her, but he wasn’t stronger than her just because he was eleven and she was nine. But instead, it was purely because he had cat blood in his veins, and she didn’t. And his species was naturally much stronger than Pandora’s.

He almost never thought about the fact that they were only half-siblings. But at moments like those, that little detail certainly came to his mind.

But still, what his little sister lacked in strength she certainly made up in stubbornness. And even though she could not stop him any more than she could uproot a tree by pulling it up from the ground, he was still keenly aware that he might have to drag her all the way to his room before she finally let go of him.

And sure enough, the moment he took another step towards the door, he felt how Pandora finally reached her limit and stopped pulling him. However, she only stopped pulling him back. Her grip around his arm was still as strong as ever.

Which, he realized too late, only meant his sister had lost her footing on her bed. The sound of her foot slipping from the bed’s floorboard being followed closely by a short, girlish yelp.

“Ahh!”

And in the next moment, she fell on his back, his vision turning into a blur as the sudden weight of her body against his caused him to lose balance.

!!!

He fell on the ground hard, barely being able to shield his face with an arm before his breath was punched out of him by the impact against the ground. He could feel his knees burning up, probably scraped by the hit against the hard floor. But more than that, he could also tell that his sister fell on his back, still holding on his arm that was now sandwiched between the two of them.

Because of course that, even though the two of them almost got hurt, she still refused to let go of him.

A low, pained groan escaped his lips, and he laid on the floor for a few moments while he regained his composure. He wasn’t sure if he was more worried that Pandora might have gotten hurt, or if he was more angry at the fact that she was still holding on to him. The two sides of his brain arguing over whether he should scold her or check if she was alright.

However, just as he was about to decide what he was going to do next, he froze. The two of them froze, in fact. Their breathing dying out and their bodies going still as they realized that the door in front of them was now open.

That same door, which led out of Pandora’s room, was closed just a moment ago of course. It was closed when they woke up, and it was closed when she was struggling to keep a hold of him in a fit of her slightly annoying antics. But now, he could see, it was open.

And what was more, he also realized that he was looking at a pair of adult legs that were now right in front of him. Or rather, he realized that there was an adult in front of him, looking down at him.

Both he and Pandora recognized who that person was at the same time, and their reactions couldn’t have been more different.

He could practically hear the smile on that person’s face, as she crossed her arms and spoke down to them.

“My, my, my, what have we here? A princess and her little white cat?”

As always, he was never quite sure what was that strange thing that he felt inside of him, whenever he heard her voice. But still, as always, he did his best not to let it show.

“Good morning mom!” Pandora said.

Although, again as always, he wasn’t quite good at hiding his hesitation, and his words came out of him a long heartbeat after Pandora’s excited response.

“Good morning auntie Juno…” he said, a few moments later.

As if on cue, Pandora’s grip on his arm finally disappeared, and the weight of her body went away from his back a few seconds later.

And he felt the woman’s eyes on him as he got up and stood next to his sister.

“Pandora, are you still calling asking your brother to sleep with you? Even though you are already this old?” she said, with a strangely amused expression that Schrodinger couldn’t quite name, “if you keep doing that, the two of you might end up getting married you know.”

Schrodinger made sure not to meet her eyes as she said that, pretending he was looking down at his clothes and checking if they were dirty or wrinkled from the fall. He didn’t know why, but he never really felt comfortable around Pandora’s mother. And it wasn’t because he felt embarrassed at what she said, but because the way Juno said that just didn’t feel… right?

Auntie Juno was a woman of medium stature, relatively thin and with long and strawberry-pink hair just like Pandora’s that went down to her waist. She seemed to make a point of always wearing a dress, or something with a long skirt, and the clothes she was wearing that morning were not an exception to that.

She looked perfectly normal, and there wasn’t a thing about her that he could say would make her stand out in a crowd. But still, whenever she looked at him, he couldn’t help but feel that her eyes felt…

He didn’t even know how to explain it, or why he felt like that. The only thing that he knew was that he didn’t feel right when she looked at him. He considered Pandora his sister, even though they were technically half-siblings. However, he absolutely did not feel that same level of proximity to his aunt.

And whenever he thought too much about that, he couldn’t help but think that his aunt knew that, and that her smile somehow grew slightly wider at that.

Still, his sister definitely didn’t feel that way. To the point that she was even nodding slightly at her mother’s words, whatever that meant.

“Well, little man, isn’t there somewhere you are supposed to be by now?” his aunt asked, opening the door slightly wider and taking a step to the side.

That was all Schrodinger needed to get his legs to move, quickly escaping from that room. He felt her stare on his back as he walked away, but thankfully that feeling died down as soon as he turned the first corner.

After that, Schrodinger hurriedly made his way to his own room, letting out a sigh of relief at the fact that he didn’t find his mother waiting for him there. His room was slightly smaller than Pandora’s, and he didn’t have a window that gave him a view of the rising sun like her room had. However, his window gave him a view of the great garden of the Vatican, and from what he heard other people say that was much better.

But he didn’t have time to look out towards the garden. In fact, he barely had time to do anything, thanks to his sister making him so late. He had to skip the morning warm-ups his mother always told him to do, and his prayers in thanks for another day, and all the little things that he would normally do each and every day during a regular morning. He had to skip all of that, because he knew his own mother was about to walk in on him at any moment, and that he was running against the clock.

So, he all but ran towards his wardrobe, picked up the clothes he was supposed to put on, and did his best to tidy up his bed in a way that suggested he slept in his own room and had a perfectly normal night behind him.

Although even though he moved as quickly as possible, it still took him a few minutes to get all of that done. Long, tense minutes where he would hurriedly put on another piece of clothing, at the same time he was straightening the sheets of his bed, all the while he was stealing glances at his door and hoping that he wouldn’t see his mother there.

But still, somehow, he made it. After all that frantic activity, Schrodinger’s room was finally in order, he had his training clothes on, and a short sigh of relief was escaping his lips as he thanked the heavens that his mother didn’t sneak up on-

“Seems like I got here right on time,” the familiar voice came from his open door, and the sigh that was half-out of Schrodinger’s mouth immediately turned into a frightened yelp, his whole body jumping up in surprise.

“Good morning mother!”, he answered right after, his back going straight out of habit and reflex as he turned to face her. And just like it was with his aunt, he swore that his mother had just materialized inside his room through a door that was closed just an eyeblink ago.

Although judging by her relaxed posture, leaning against the door with her arms crossed, he couldn’t help but think that she had been standing there in plain sight, observing him that whole time.

It would have been impossible to look at Dalia and Schrodinger and not say that they were mother and son. After all, they had the same dark hair, topped by a similar pair of white cat ears, and both of them had the same purple tone to their eyes. There were also a dozen other tiny details about the way they looked that made it very clear that Dalia had quite literally made him, but it was really their eyes and ears that drove the point home.

She was taller than Schrodinger, but that was a given seeing how young he was. She also had a rather serious expression, and usually carried herself in a no-nonsense manner even when she was with her family. And just like she did every morning, she was wearing the same training clothes that he was. An extra-heavy jacket with light canvas pants, with a thick cotton belt around her waist. The only difference being that her training clothes were black, with a red belt, while Schrodinger’s were entirely white.

Granted, his mother’s training clothes were also a lot less beaten and wrinkled than his, but that was precisely because they trained together every morning. After all, hers was a species of warriors, and even though Dalia was careful during their training she also made a point of not going easy on him. Because despite her unassuming stature, her feline strength was more than enough to casually throw and toss him as needed.

And even though Schrodinger knew he only had half of her species’ blood, he still admired that part of her very much.

“I passed by your aunt while I was making my way here, and she didn’t give me any of the stares that she usually does,” his mother said, as she nonchalantly looked at him, “so don’t think that I don’t know you just got here, and that you got ready in a hurry.”

She said that, and his face immediately turned into a grimace as he realized what her words meant.

Because his mother loved him, of course, and he also loved her very much.

But, she always made sure to remind him, that didn’t mean she was going to go easy on him. Or rather, it was precisely because she loved him that she would “make sure to keep him on the straight and narrow,” as she would always say.

“Which means,” she said, as she walked towards him, “that I also know you skipped the warmups you are supposed to do.”

And as soon as she was close enough to him-

Paf!

-she hit him on the top of his head, with a light chopping motion.

“Ouch!”

Well, it was a light chopping motion only from her point of view. But Schrodinger, who had also lowered his head out of habit from that usual kind of punishment, could only do his best not to scratch at the place she just hit.

Not that he would have needed to, because right after she hit him, he also felt her hand immediately go back to the same spot, affectionately ruffling his hair as she let out a long and practiced sigh.

“You really have to stop spoiling your sister so much,” she said, repeating the same words she said almost every day when that kind of thing happened.

But almost as if she knew which battles she could win, and which were a lost cause, she gave him a last pat on the head and turned around, walking out of his room and giving him the smallest of handwaves for him to follow.

“Now let’s get going. We have a long day ahead of us, and now we also have an extra set of warmups to do before we even begin that,” she said, but not in a way that made Schrodinger feel bad or guilty. In fact, he couldn’t help but feel a smile appear on his face as he felt his usual routine beginning to fall in place around him.

And like he did every morning, Schrodinger followed after his mother.