Nana
The front door didn't open.
It left.
One second Nana was on the couch, half-watching a K-drama rerun and half-wondering when Mio would be back from her weird new job. The next second, the tiny knight (the one that had been sitting on the kitchen counter like a very creepy action figure) launched itself at the door hard enough to rip it off the hinges.
The door hit the hallway wall. The knight hit the stairs. Nana hit her shin on the coffee table trying to stand up.
"What—"
The knight was already gone. She could hear it, metal on metal, that weird coin-tumbling sound it made when it moved, getting fainter. Going down.
Nana looked at the empty doorframe. Looked at the broken hinges. Looked at the hallway, where Mrs. Tanaka from 4B was already poking her head out with that expression old people got when they wanted to complain but weren't sure who to complain to.
"Sorry!" Nana grabbed her shoes. "Pest control issue!"
She was out the door before Mrs. Tanaka could respond.
The knight was fast. That was the first problem.
It moved wrong, jerky, stuttering, like a stop-motion animation come to life, but it covered ground like nothing else. By the time Nana made it to street level, the thing was already two blocks ahead, weaving between pedestrians who were too busy looking at their phones to notice a thermos-sized suit of armor sprinting past their ankles.
She ran.
She was not a runner. Mio was the athletic one. Nana was the smart one, the one who figured out how to get out of PE by faking period cramps three weeks in a row. But she ran anyway, because that thing belonged to her sister, and it was clearly going somewhere important, and also because if she lost track of it she'd have to explain to Mio why there was no door on their apartment.
The knight turned a corner. Nana followed.
Lost it.
No no no—
A man stumbled out of a convenience store, rubbing his ankle, looking confused. Nana pushed past him.
There. Down the alley. That glint of light disappearing around another corner.
She followed.
The knight didn't take the train. Didn't take streets, really. It took the shortest path, through alleys, under fences, once directly through a hedge that Nana had to go around.
It wasn't navigating. It was aimed. Like something had pointed it in a direction and it just... went.
Twice she lost it completely. Twice she found it again by following the chaos: a knocked-over bike rack, a vending machine with a dent at knee height, a security guard yelling into his radio about "some kind of drone."
The knight didn't care about being seen. Didn't care about anything except getting wherever it was going.
Nana was wheezing by the time she figured out where that was.
The Bureau building was on fire.
Not fully. Not yet. But smoke was pouring from the upper floors, and the emergency lights were strobing, and there were people everywhere. Streaming out of the entrance, clustering on the sidewalk, some of them in suits, some in weird tactical gear, all of them staring up at the flames with expressions that ranged from annoyed to terrified.
Fire trucks were already arriving. Someone was shouting about evacuation protocols. A woman in a lab coat was crying.
Nana stopped at the edge of the crowd. Breathing hard. Watching.
This was where Mio worked. The "Bureau." The place she couldn't talk about, the job that had given her the weird mark on her forehead and the creepy knight companion and the habit of coming home with bruises she pretended weren't there.
The building was on fire.
And somewhere inside, she could still hear it. Faint, almost lost in the sirens and the shouting. Metal on metal. Coins tumbling down stairs.
Can was still going.
Into the burning building.
Nana looked at the crowd. Looked at the smoke. Looked at the gap in the evacuation flow where security had given up trying to stop people from leaving and wasn't yet organized enough to stop anyone from entering.
She was the smart one. She knew this was stupid.
Her hands wouldn't stop shaking. The smoke was thick enough to taste, and somewhere in that building her sister was doing something that had set off every alarm in a six-block radius. She could walk away. Call the police. Wait for Mio to come out on her own.
But Mio might not come out on her own.
That was the thought that moved her feet.
She went anyway.
The trail was impossible to miss.
Security gates, crumpled. Emergency doors, bent inward at the bottom, always at knee height, like something small and very determined had shouldered through. A wall with a hole in it. A stairwell door hanging off one hinge.
Nana followed it down.
The damage got fresher as she descended. Dust still settling. Metal still warm when she touched it. The air getting hotter, thicker, harder to breathe, but not from the fire above. From something else. Something below.
She passed a landing with a window that looked into an observation room. The glass was shattered. The room beyond was just... gone. Scorched black. Nothing left but char and twisted metal and a smell like ozone and burning plastic.
Her hands were shaking.
She kept going.
The arena was a crater.
That was Nana's first thought. The smell hit her second: not smoke anymore, not the city smog she'd been breathing for the last twenty minutes, but something metallic and old. Like blood left too long in the sun. Like a museum basement nobody had opened in a hundred years.
Half of it was just missing, floor torn up, walls melted, ceiling collapsed in places. Water dripped from burst pipes. Smoke curled through the wreckage. Emergency lights flickered red, red, red.
Her legs gave out.
She caught herself on the doorframe. Lungs burning. Knees threatening to buckle.
But she looked up.
And in the center of it all—
Mio.
She was standing. Barely. One arm raised, palm out, but the arm was wrong. Black shell where skin should be. Chitin plates locked over muscle and bone, veined with light that pulsed like a heartbeat. Shapes were forming in the air above the armored palm. Geometry. Spinning. Humming. Getting brighter.
There was a woman across from her. Auburn hair in a lazy ponytail. Smiling.
But Nana wasn't watching the woman.
She was watching her sister.
Mio's eyes were blank. Empty. Like someone had reached inside her head and turned off all the lights. The geometry in her palm was building toward something, pulling everything toward it, a pressure that made Nana's ears pop.
This wasn't her sister.
This was a stranger wearing her sister's face.
"Mio!"
The word died in her throat. Lost in the hum of the geometry, the crackle of flames, the settling of rubble.
But Mio heard.
Her eyes moved. Found Nana. For less than a heartbeat, less than a breath, her sister was there. Behind the blankness. Still seeing her.
Mio's expression didn't change. The geometry didn't stop. The pressure kept building, brighter and brighter, hungry for release.
But tears fell.
Sliding down her cheeks. Catching the light of the spinning runes. Falling onto scorched concrete.
Mio wasn't stopping. The geometry wasn't stopping. Whatever she'd become, whatever she'd started, it was already too late.
But she was crying.
The geometry locked.
The light blazed.
"Onee-san!"
The world went white.
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