Orfevre stood, arms crossed, gaze drifting across the remaining children with slow, deliberate consideration—like a monarch surveying candidates for the next decree.
"…Hm."
Namawa couldn't wait.
Her arm shot straight into the air. "ME! ME! PICK ME—PLEASE PICK ME!!" She bounced on her heels, tail whipping so hard it brushed Lunar's side.
Orfevre's lips curved. "Such impatience," she said, clearly amused. Then she pointed without hesitation. "Very well. You. Step forward."
"YES!" Namawa pumped both fists and bolted toward the line.
"Wait—Namawa—!" I Am Invincible stiffened instantly, eyes snapping to the track. Her brows knit tight. "Orfevre, that's eighteen hundred meters. She burns out early—even at twelve hundred—"
Black Caviar lifted a hand, calm and steady. "She'll be fine."
I Am Invincible blinked. "…You're sure Nelly?"
Black Caviar watched Namawa as the girl bounced into position, rolling her shoulders, energy spilling off her in waves. "Her last race wasn't proof of weakness," she said evenly. "She tripped because she got overexcited. That's all."
She glanced at Vinnie. "Right now, there's no one to chase. No one to beat. Just the track—and herself. That's exactly what she needs."
I Am Invincible hesitated… then exhaled. "…Alright."
Namawa planted her feet at the line, grinning from ear to ear. "Okay! I'm ready!"
Ikee cleared her throat."Same conditions as before. One full lap. Pace yourself if you can—"
Orfevre raised a hand. "Begin."
"Go!"
Namawa exploded forward.
Not just fast—violent.
Her first step tore into the turf, dirt and grass ripping free beneath her heel. The second hit harder. The third harder still. Each stride slammed down like a challenge, as if she were daring the ground to break before she did.
"What—?!" Trainer Yasutoshi gasped. "That power—!"
Fuji Kiseki let out a low whistle. "That's not normal leg drive for an unmatured uma musume."
Trainer Yasutoshi stared, eyes wide. "…How can someone that young generate that much force right off the start?"
Namawa's arms pumped hard, shoulders firm, body surging forward with reckless enthusiasm. She wasn't holding anything back—she never did—but this time it wasn't messy. It was exactly what she wanted to do.
Orfevre's eyes gleamed. "…Such strength," she murmured approvingly. "She would make a fine soldier."
The first corner came fast.
Namawa didn't slow.
"W-wait—she's not decelerating!" Ikee cried.
"She's going to overshoot—!" Fuji Kiseki leaned forward.
"No," Black Caviar said calmly.
Namawa hit the turn.
Her foot slammed down—and held.
The turf compressed beneath her, leaving a deep, unmistakable print as she twisted her momentum sideways instead of letting it throw her outward. Her body leaned sharply into the curve, tail snapping behind her as the force redirected through her legs rather than ripping her balance apart.
She accelerated through the corner.
A ripple passed through the grass behind her—energy lost, but immediately gained through sheer force in less than a millisecond.
…She's gripping the ground
Shock rippled through the spectators.
Everyone stared in shock. Everyone—except Black Caviar.
"Instead of fighting the turn with balance," she explained simply. "She's using her strength to stay planted. I taught her to trust her footing instead of pulling away from the curve, it suits her style more."
Namawa burst out of the turn still gaining speed, stride thunderous but stable now. Her breathing was heavy, chest rising fast—but it wasn't panicked. Her form held. Her eyes stayed forward.
By the final stretch, fatigue finally began to creep in. Her pace dipped—not sharply, not dangerously—but enough to show the distance was catching up to her.
Namawa grit her teeth. N-not yet…!
She didn't force more power.
She adjusted.
Her steps shortened just enough. Her arms steadied. She stopped chasing speed and started protecting it, refusing to let excitement tear her apart the way it once had.
And she crossed the line.
Clean.
Her legs wobbled. She took one unsteady step—
Then dropped to the grass, landing on her back with a breathless laugh, chest heaving as she stared up at the sky.
Silence spread across the field.
Then—
Orfevre laughed, sharp and delighted. "Excellent."
Namawa blinked, propping herself up on her elbows. "R-Really?!"
"Your power is monstrous," Orfevre declared. "You run like a storm that does not ask permission, there are certainly glimpses of that kingly [Zone] your mother possesses."
Namawa beamed.
"But," Orfevre continued, raising a finger, "you are still sloppy. Your opening is too wild, your closing too desperate. Learn restraint—not to weaken yourself, but to strike longer."
Namawa nodded rapidly. "Yes! I mean—uh—Yes, Your Majesty!"
Orfevre smirked. "Hmph."
Namawa staggered back toward the group, exhausted and glowing.
I Am Invincible knelt beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You did great," she added. "I'm proud of you."
Namawa laughed again, too tired to respond properly.
Black Caviar watched her with a faint, satisfied smile.
She'd run her race, and this time—she'd seen it through to the end
Orfevre's gaze shifted again, sweeping over the remaining children until it settled on Lunar.
"…You," she said, voice firm but curious. "Silver-haired one. Step forward."
Lunar stiffened. "M–Me?" Her ears twitched as she glanced back at the others, then she nodded and took a hesitant step onto the track. Her heart was already beating faster, nerves buzzing beneath her skin.
Before Orfevre could say more, another voice spoke up.
"…Wait."
Anonym stepped forward as well.
"I want to run too," she said.
Orfevre's brow lifted slightly. "Hm? You wish to intrude upon another's trial?"
Orfevre's brow lifted a fraction. "Hm? You wish to intrude upon another's trial?"
Anonym shook her head. "Not intrude," she replied calmly. "Together." She drew a small breath. "I run best when I'm chasing something. That's what I'm good at." A pause. "When I run, I need a goal."
Her eyes lifted—steady, unwavering—and fixed on Lunar.
"…Right now," Anonym continued, voice quiet but unmistakably earnest, "the thing I want to chase most is her."
Silence fell.
Lunar froze where she stood. "…Eh?"
Heat rushed to her face all at once. Her eyes widened, cheeks flushing pink as she stared at Anonym, completely thrown off balance. "W–What—?!"
Around them, reactions rippled instantly.
"Oh my," Fuji Kiseki murmured, clearly entertained.
"That's quite bold," Air Groove noted, one brow lifting.
Written Tycoon hummed softly, amused. "Direct, that certainly will be effective."
Rudolf nods in approval. "A rival's declaration," she said. "It's often a rival who becomes the closest bond of all. To chase one another forward… that's how many legends are born."
Autumn Sun let out a quiet chuckle, eyes warm with pride. "She's grown braver than I expected."
"Hey—!" Saiya blurted out, cheeks puffed as she stepped forward. "That's not fair! Lunar's my closest friend!"
Lunar's blush deepened.
Then—
Orfevre threw her head back and laughed.
A loud, ringing laugh that echoed across the field.
"Magnificent!" she declared. "Such honesty. Such audacity." Her sharp eyes gleamed as she looked between the two girls. "To name one's desire so plainly before all others—yes. I respect that courage."
She lifted a hand, decisive.
"Very well," Orfevre proclaimed. "I permit this duel."
Lunar's breath hitched. "…D–Duel?"
"Run together," Orfevre commanded. "Lead. Chase. Fight. Show me how your spirits clash—and how they pull one another forward."
Anonym nodded immediately. "Thank you."
Lunar swallowed, nerves and something else twisting together in her chest. She glanced at Anonym—saw the quiet intensity there, the certainty—and then looked down at the track ahead.
"…Okay," Lunar said softly, then a little firmer. "I'll run with Anonym."
Orfevre smiled, sharp and satisfied.
"Good," she said. "Let the duel begin."
Lunar and Anonym stood side by side on the starting line.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
The air between them felt… different. Not tense, not hostile—but charged, like the pause before the show began.
Lunar glanced sideways, ears flicking. "…Anonym?" She hesitated, then asked softly, "What are you up to?"
Anonym didn't look at her at first. She kept her eyes on the track ahead, hands relaxed at her sides.
"I just want to run with you," she said simply. "One to one."
Lunar blinked. "That's it..?"
Lunar glanced sideways, ears flicking. "…Anonym?" she asked hesitantly. "What are you up to?"
Anonym kept her gaze forward, hands relaxed at her sides. "I just want to run with you," she said simply. "One to one."
"Huh?" Lunar blinked.
Anonym finally turned her head. Her expression was calm, almost shy—but something burned quietly behind her eyes.
"That day," she said, "when we all raced together. At the final furlong." She paused, choosing her words. "When you passed Big Sister Invi—when you surged ahead—I heard it."
Lunar stiffened. "…Heard what?"
"That melody."
Lunar's eyes widened.
"It was soothing," Anonym continued, pressing a hand lightly to her chest. "It made my head feel light. Like everything eased for a moment." She hesitated. "I think that's why I lost to Persian. The sound stole my focus."
She drew a breath.
"But afterward… something woke up inside me. Something new. Something wild." Her voice softened. "Ever since then, I've wanted to run again. To chase that sound. To chase you."
Her cheeks colored faintly. "…To race (dance) with you under that melody."
Lunar froze, heat rushing to her face. "A-Anonym, that's—"
"On your mark."
Orfevre's voice cut cleanly through the moment, sharp and absolute.
Both girls snapped into position.
Lunar lowered her stance, breath steadying as her feet found familiar placement. Her heart pounded—not with fear, but anticipation.
Beside her, Anonym shifted smoothly, posture light and coiled, eyes fixed straight ahead like a predator waiting for release.
Rudolf's brows lifted, genuine surprise crossing her face. "Invincible did not win? Maturation aside, she is clearly the strongest among them. Her raw time should have been the fastest, not to mention her racing experience."
"It was," Black Caviar said calmly. "But a race isn't decided by time alone."
Rudolf considered that for a beat, then asked, "Then… who took first?"
There was the briefest pause—
—and then Saiya leaned forward, practically bouncing on her heels.
"Lunar!" she declared, beaming, hands planted proudly on her hips. "Obviously!"
"…Go!"
They launched.
Anonym moved first.
Her start was clean and decisive, feet snapping against the turf as she surged ahead by half a length almost immediately. It wasn't explosive like Namawa's, nor brutal—just efficient, practiced, confident.
Lunar was right there.
She didn't panic. She slid into Anonym's wake naturally, stride smooth and elastic, matching rhythm without copying it. Her breath stayed light, arms relaxed, eyes focused on the space just ahead of her opponent's shoulder.
They flowed down the first straight together.
They flowed down the first straight together, stride for stride, the gap between them no wider than a breath.
The first corner rushed up fast.
Neither of them slowed.
Anonym drifted outward, choosing the wider line—more space, a cleaner arc. Her steps stayed light but deliberate, speed preserved rather than forced.
Fuji Kiseki's eyes lit up. "Smart choice. Outside line, more room to turn without bleeding pace."
Lunar, on the other hand, stayed inside.
Perhaps too much so.
Air Groove frowned. "That line's narrow. She'll have to—"
Lunar accelerated.
Not before or after the corner.
In it.
Her inside foot struck, body tilting just enough to convert momentum into a burst of speed. There was no skid, no hesitation—only a smooth tightening of her stride as she slipped through the curve like water through a channel.
In one clean, fluid motion, she passed Anonym.
Rudolf's eyes widened. "…She overtook there?"
Fuji Kiseki straightened. "She accelerated even more mid-turn?"
Trainer Yasutoshi stared, disbelief clear on her face. "That's not supposed to be possible—how is she gaining speed during the corner without any kind of price?!"
Even Orfevre's violet eyes sharpened, her smile stalling for the briefest instant.
Behind them, reactions were far less surprised.
"There she goes again," More Than Ready muttered, shaking her head.
Written Tycoon let out a quiet laugh. "Seeing it twice doesn't make it any less absurd."
Black Caviar didn't speak. She only watched, gaze steady, as if this outcome had never been in doubt.
Lunar burst out of the turn and into the second straight with the lead firmly in her hands.
There was no visible strain as her stride lengthened. No sudden push, no aggressive reach—just a natural unfolding, her cadence settling into something so smooth it felt almost unreal. Each step landed cleanly, evenly, the sound of it neither heavy nor sharp, but clear and resonant, as though the track itself were speaking back to her.
Tap. Thrum. Tap.
Rudolf's breath caught in her throat.
"…Listen," she murmured, barely aware she'd spoken aloud.
Air Groove stilled, her sharp eyes narrowing not in suspicion, but in focus. Fuji Kiseki tilted her head, expression shifting from curiosity to something closer to awe as they all began to hear it.
The sound of Lunar's running wasn't chaotic. It wasn't forced or manufactured. There was no excess, no struggle—only harmony. Every footfall landed exactly where it should, at exactly the right moment, as if the rhythm had existed long before Lunar ever stepped onto the track.
Rudolf didn't look away. Her voice dropped, no longer commentary, but quiet reflection—spoken almost to herself. It is as though the ground recognizes her. As though this is the sound it has been waiting to hear.
On the track, Lunar felt it too.
The wind no longer pressed against her—it slipped around her, folding neatly along her shoulders and arms. The ground responded to her steps with gentle certainty, each impact returning exactly what she gave it. Even her breathing fell into place, rising and falling in perfect time with her heartbeat.
The world began to narrow—not into silence, but into unity.
Grass. Breath. Pulse. Footsteps.
All of it drew together, weaving into a single, continuous rhythm that wrapped around her, lifted her, carried her forward as if she were no longer running on the track, but with it.
And then—
Something scraped against it.
Just slightly.
A discord, faint but insistent, tugging at the back of each note.
Lunar's brows knit. What…?
A presence.
She glanced sideways.
Anonym was there.
Right beside her.
Blue eyes, unnervingly bright, locked straight onto Lunar's golden ones—not strained, not frantic, but hungry. Her stride matched Lunar's beat not by copying, but by pressing against it, like a counter-melody.
Their shoulders nearly brushed.
Lunar felt her pulse spike—not with fear, not with panic, but with something electric, something that sent a thrill straight through her spine.
Anonym smiled.
Not a taunt.
An invitation.
The dance wasn't over.
It had only just begun.
Saiya was the first to notice it.
Her ears flicked, brow furrowing as she leaned forward instinctively. "Wait… Anonym…" Her voice wavered. "She changed."
On the track, Anonym moved.
Not with a burst.
Not with a kick.
She slipped. Slipped into Lunar's rhythm.
At first, Lunar didn't realize what was happening. Everything was still there—the flow, the cadence she'd found—but something began to press against it. A second presence, close and invasive, threading itself between her steps.
Her breath caught.
The sound of her footfalls dulled, like cloth thrown over a bell.
What—?
Anonym drew closer, then surged—not just ahead, but through.
It felt as though Lunar's rhythm had been seized, pulled from her grasp and rewritten. The harmony twisted, bent under a heavier will, until everything no longer responded the way it had moments ago.
Then the air changed.
A pressure rolled outward from Anonym, low and suffocating. Behind her, something seemed to form—not physical, not fully real, but it appears all the same.
Black clouds unfurled in her wake.
They clung to the track, to the air itself, bleeding outward like ink in water. The sunlight dimmed beneath them, shadows stretching and thickening as if the track were being swallowed whole.
Lunar's chest tightened.
The melody fractured.
Her steps lost their certainty, rhythm slipping just enough to shatter completely. The ground no longer answered her. The wind resisted instead of yielding, pushing back where it once carried her.
No—focus—
But the clouds pressed closer, curling around her vision, muffling sound, swallowing distance. Anonym's presence loomed ahead—overwhelming, absolute—until Lunar could no longer feel the pace she'd been riding.
She slowed. Not by choice.
And Anonym pulled away.
One length.
Two.
Four.
Six.
Lunar saw it dimly, through the haze—Anonym tearing down the straight, wrapped in that oppressive aura, dominating the race not just with speed, but with her sheer existence.
On the sidelines, disbelief rippled outward.
"W–What is that?!" Trainer Yasutoshi gasped, panic bleeding into her voice. "What happened?! Why is Lunar slowing down?!"
Autumn Sun's breath caught sharply. Her eyes widened, something between shock and fear flashing across her face. "…No," she whispered. "That can't be—"
Air Groove's jaw tightened. "That feeling—"
"A forced [Zone]?" Fuji Kiseki breathed, the words barely audible.
"NO WAY—!" More Than Ready shouted, disbelief spilling out unchecked. "How does she have a [Zone] too?!"
That single word snapped Rudolf's attention like a whip.
"…'Too'?" Rudolf echoed sharply, her gaze cutting toward More Than Ready. "What do you mean, too?"
But no one answered.
Because the clouds were changing.
They thinned.
Not dispersing—retreating.
As if something far more dangerous were pushing back.
On the track, Lunar staggered, breath uneven, vision swimming—
Heat.
A sharp, piercing warmth bloomed in her chest, cutting through the suffocation like a blade. Her heartbeat thundered once. Twice.
Then synchronize.
The clouds recoiled as silver light bled through first, shimmering along her limbs, outlining her form with blinding brilliance. Then red—deep, vibrant—threaded through it, pulsing in time with her breath like a second heartbeat layered over the first.
The melody returned, stronger and clearer than before.
The black clouds shattered like mist in sunlight, torn apart by the surge pouring off Lunar as she straightened—eyes blazing, silver and crimson wrapping around her like living flame.
"…Another forced [Zone]," Fuji Kiseki breathed.
Air Groove shook her head slowly, eyes locked on Lunar. "No. Look closer." Her arms tightened across her chest. "This isn't forced."
Rudolf took a step forward, shock bare on her face. "She entered it naturally…"
Her voice softened, "…Two fillies. Neither fully matured. And yet both have touched the [Zone]." Her gaze flicked from Lunar to Anonym, then—slowly—to Black Caviar. "This era truly is changing."
Black Caviar met her look calmly.
"I had nothing to do with this," she said evenly. "Neither of them."
She returned her gaze to the track, to Lunar blazing forward once more. "If credit belongs anywhere—it belongs to Lunar. She awakened her own [Zone]." A brief pause. "And by chasing her… Anonym seems to have awakened hers as well."
On the track, silver and red burned brighter.
And the duel resumed.
Orfevre simply looked, amused. "Hah! Yes—now that," the golden tyrant declared, eyes blazing as they locked onto Lunar's silver-and-crimson form, "is a [Zone] worthy of a king."
On the track, Lunar moved.
Her first step landed—
—and the distance collapsed.
Anonym felt it instantly.
Something carved through the air behind her, clean and decisive, like a blade drawn in a single perfect motion. The pressure she had imposed—the dominance she had claimed only moments ago—was answered in full.
Her eyes widened.
She's coming.
Lunar didn't surge by force. She advanced by inevitability.
Her stride lengthened, not because she demanded more from her body, but because the world allowed it. Each footfall rang with clarity, silver and red trailing behind her like afterimages of a shooting star. The track no longer bent—it fell into place in Lunar's path, snapping into place beneath her as if this were always how she was meant to run.
Five lengths.
Four.
Anonym grit her teeth and pushed.
Her legs burned now, breath scraping at her lungs, but she refused to yield. The hunger was still there—still roaring—but it was being drowned out by something she hadn't expected.
That melody.
It returned—not behind her, not chasing her—
—but surrounding her.
Tap. Thrum. Tap.
The sound threaded through her thoughts, through her pulse, through the ache in her muscles. It wasn't mocking her, it wasn't dominating her.
It was inviting.
That sound… So this is what I was chasing.
Lunar drew level.
For a stretch of time that felt impossibly long, they ran side by side..
Lunar felt Anonym there—felt the pressure of her will, the raw, unfiltered desire to keep going no matter the cost. It tugged at her rhythm, tried to bend it again.
This time, it didn't work.
Lunar met her gaze.
Blue eyes. Gold eyes.
No words.
Just understanding.
Anonym laughed, breathless and unsteady, the sound torn loose from her chest. "…So that's how it is."
She pushed one last time—everything she had left, every scrap of strength, every ounce of hunger, but her stride broke just slightly. Just a fraction too slow and a heartbeat too late.
Lunar passed her. Neither violently nor overwhelmingly. But like a melody resolving into its final, inevitable note.
The final straight opened wide before them.
Anonym felt her strength drain away, legs turning heavy, lungs screaming for air she couldn't quite draw in. She watched Lunar pull ahead—one length, then three, then more—silver and crimson burning brighter with every step, untouchable now.
So this is how it ends, she thought.
But it wasn't bitter. What settled in her was a deep, quiet satisfaction that nestled deep into her bones.
I truly found it.
Lunar flew.
There was no resistance now—no discord, no pressure clawing at her rhythm. Only motion. Pure, unhindered, exalted motion. Her feet barely seemed to touch the ground, each stride ringing out like a bell struck perfectly true, sound and movement fused into something almost sacred.
She crossed the line—
—and didn't slow until she was far past it.
Nine lengths.
Silence fell over the field like a held breath.
Anonym crossed the line seconds later, legs unsteady, chest heaving as the last of her strength drained away. She staggered a step, bent forward with her hands braced on her knees, then forced herself upright again.
Her gaze lifted.
Lunar was still there.
Still standing. Still glowing faintly, silver and red embers slowly fading from her skin.
Anonym smiled—wide, exhausted, unmistakably genuine.
"…I caught it," she said quietly, voice hoarse but warm. "Just for a moment."
Lunar turned back, breath finally catching up to her as the last traces of her [Zone] ebbed away. She met Anonym's eyes and smiled in return—small, steady, sincere.
"I'm glad you did."
Before Anonym could say anything else, footsteps rushed toward her.
"Anonym!" Autumn Sun reached her first, hands already steadying her shoulders. Her usual gentle composure was edged with urgency now as she assessed her in quick, practiced motions—breathing, posture, the tension still locked in her limbs. A forced awakening always carved a toll into the body, and for a filly who hadn't even reached full maturation, the strain could linger far longer… and cut far deeper.
Anonym gave a weak, reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Mommy," she murmured. "Just… really tired."
Across the field, Saiya was already sprinting toward Lunar, eyes bright with excitement. "Lunar! You did it—!!"
She barely made it halfway before a firm hand caught the back of her collar and lifted her cleanly off the ground.
"Saiya," Written Tycoon said coolly, tone sharp with concern rather than scolding. "No running. Remember."
Saiya kicked her feet helplessly. "Let me go, Aunt Tycoon!! I just wanna congratulate her!"
"You can congratulate her without stressing your heart," Written Tycoon replied flatly, setting her back down only once Saiya stopped struggling. "Walk."
Saiya puffed out her cheeks but obeyed, trudging forward dramatically.
Then she lunged forward and hugged her.
"Lunar—!" Saiya buried her face into Lunar's neck, arms wrapped tight. "You, run—mmf—it was really pretty—!" Her words came out muffled, pressed into Lunar's collarbone.
Lunar froze for half a second—then laughed softly, warmth blooming in her chest as she carefully returned the hug. "Th-Thank you, Saichan."
Nearby, Rudolf pressed a hand to her chest, exhaling slowly as if grounding herself after what she'd witnessed.
A filly who could awaken, respond, and then surpass another [Zone] in the middle of a race…
The thought sent a quiet thrill through her.
With that level of stability and output, Lunar wasn't merely promising—she was already promised. Even now, Rudolf could see it clearly: place her in a G3 field, even a G2, and she wouldn't just survive. She would win.
No… perhaps even more than that.
Fuji Kiseki let out a low whistle. "And we can't overlook Anonym either. That wasn't reckless luck. That was instinct, willpower—real race sense. "Her eyes gleamed. "That kind of [Zone] would make seasoned G2 runners sweat."
Air Groove nodded once, arms folded, expression grave but approving. "That wasn't a children's exhibition. That was a duel between future monsters."
Orfevre laughed behind her.
It was low at first, almost disbelieving—then richer, sharper, filled with delight. She'd felt it too. That surge from Lunar's [Zone], clean and sovereign. For the briefest instant, instinct answered instinct. Orfevre's pulse had spiked. Something deep within her stirred—so close to awakening her own [Zone]. Something she only had to truly manifest when running against Win Variation.
From such a young filly… something that could one day rival her throne.
Trainer Ikee noticed her demeanor. "…Orfevre?" she asked carefully. "Why are you smiling like that?"
Orfevre's laughter softened into a satisfied huff. "Because," she replied simply, eyes never leaving Lunar, "it is certainly rare to witness a future conqueror before her campaign of conquest started."
She stepped forward then, boots crunching against the turf.
Positioning herself between the two—Lunar still held tightly by Saiya's enthusiastic embrace, Anonym supported in Autumn Sun's steady arms, violet eyes sharp and appraising, burning with satisfaction. For a long moment, she said nothing.
Then she smiled.
"Remember this day," Orfevre declared, her voice carrying across the field. "Today, you did not merely race."
Her gaze locked onto Lunar, unyielding.
"You ruled."
She turned next to Anonym, her expression softening just a fraction—still fierce, but no longer domineering.
"And you," she continued, "chose a ruler worthy of chasing." Her violet eyes narrowed with intensity. "That choice will shape you more deeply than any hollow victory ever could."
Anonym closed her eyes, exhaustion finally catching up to her—but her smile never faded.
Best choice I ever made.