They were the world's original three Uma Musume.
Across the desolate grasslands, they ran, ever onward.
They crossed rivers, scaled mountains, and with their own feet, overcame every obstacle before them.
Their bodies, far exceeding mortal understanding, moved the world itself.
'Oh gods…'
The people knelt in pious worship, watching the three wind-like figures.
They brought miracles to this land.
Darley Arabian, blazing like the sun, the symbol of hope.
Byerley Turk, rooted in the steadfast earth, representing strength and legacy.
And Godolphin Arabian, guarding the source of the wind, forever protecting everyone.
The Three Goddesses used their knowledge and power to etch their will permanently upon this land.
Then, they vanished.
Where did the goddesses go?
Everyone speculated.
Was it the world's far edge, where the rainbow meets the azure sky?
The end of the starry sky, where a bridge of glittering gems spans the Milky Way?
Or the origin of all things, the mountains, lakes, and seas…
There was no conclusion, no answer. No one could know the final resting place of the gods.
But the ancient legend was filled with beautiful aspirations.
They said the three goddesses became one with all creation, guarding the world they created—a world belonging solely to the Uma Musume—at the boundary between light and shadow.
"I yearn immensely, to one day, set foot in that land," a black figure said, gazing at the brilliantly lit world.
"That Supreme Domain, reachable only by the three goddesses."
Supreme Domain?
Indeed.
The black figure turned to her.
And asked:
"Wandering spirit from another world, you who have crossed countless realms, when you arrived here, did you witness the figures of those three goddesses?"
"And have you lingered in that world, so tantalizingly close yet unattainable?"
The voice echoed.
The girl remained silent.
I…
--+--
"Darley Arabian, Byerley Turk… Godolphin Arabian…"
In a mysterious space, an indistinct murmur sounded.
Fragments of memory flickered incessantly in her mind, various voices interlacing.
The images in the dream were complex and chaotic.
Just then, her mouth was suddenly covered by a soft hand.
"You must not speak the full names of the gods—"
A voice whispered by her ear.
After what felt like an unknown length of time, she finally opened her eyes.
The pendulum clock above still swung back and forth.
"How long was I asleep?"
"A few hours."
"That's quite a while."
Sunday Serenity sat up, her fingers unconsciously touching her neck.
In that pitch-black world, it seemed three figures had streaked across the sky.
Who were they?
Clutching her head, Sunday Serenity felt as if a hazy fog shrouded her memories, the images of the past blurred and unclear.
Just as she was concentrating on recalling—
Tap, tap, tap—
A series of clear, sharp taps on glass sounded.
In the blue and purple world, a mirror had appeared at some point, reflecting Sunday Serenity's form.
No.
Seeing that slightly stern expression, Sunday Serenity quickly sensed something was wrong. It wasn't her, nor was it Sunday Silence. It was—
Manhattan Cafe?!
At this moment, Manhattan Cafe stood outside the mirror.
She seemed to be able to see inside through her own reflection.
Tapping gently on the glass with her hand, Manhattan Cafe was trying to call someone out.
Oh my god!
Startled, Sunday Serenity immediately turned her head away.
Was her face seen?
"Don't worry, Cafe can only see a rough outline of this world through the mirror," Sunday Silence reminded her from the side.
Outline?
What kind of logic was that?
Could it be that her spiritual perception was just that strong?
Even so, being able to see into another dimension is going too far!
Or perhaps their connection was more than just 'friends'; maybe there was some other link between their two souls that allowed Manhattan Cafe to find her so easily.
But she hadn't fully recovered from the dream yet; various images kept flashing, her thoughts in complete disarray.
Rubbing her face, Sunday Serenity forced herself to focus, gradually regaining her composure.
First, deal with the situation at hand.
After the rest, her spirit had recovered somewhat, though her body still felt incredibly heavy.
It seems we can't keep hiding it any longer, Sunday Silence's voice sounded in her ear.
So, do we have to come clean to her?
After causing such a big commotion, there's no way to keep it hidden anyway.
Thinking this, Sunday Serenity reached out her fingers, touched the mirror's surface, and slipped out.
Manhattan Cafe sat on the sofa, arms crossed, waiting.
Sunday Serenity turned her back, standing before her.
"So, how on earth… did this happen?" Manhattan Cafe asked directly, without any beating around the bush.
So how exactly should she explain this?
If she had a physical body right now, she'd be sweating buckets, drenched from head to toe.
Thank the world for granting her this spirit body without body temperature or visible changes.
Forcing calmness, she cleared her throat a few times.
"I'm not really sure either."
Her voice was unbearably hoarse.
Her continuously dissipating body was affecting normal speech. Those mist-like particles floating around her were probably the very essence composing this spirit form.
Clearly, once these things broke free and scattered, they disrupted her normal functions.
She had a feeling that if she ever lost control, something terrifying would happen…
But thanks to this, she didn't need to deliberately lower her voice anymore. Now her speech was fragmented, as if someone had slit her throat, the sound of her voice…
Suddenly, another flash of memory—blood spraying, a glint of steel—and Sunday Serenity's body trembled uncontrollably.
The instinctual fear from her death surged again, a strong phantom pain searing her neck. She clutched her throat, gasping for air as if suffocating.
Blood flowed into her throat, clogging her lungs.
It's so agonizing…
Her brain felt like it was burning, she couldn't breathe!
Darkness fell before her eyes again.
Not good, if this continues I'll—
"Don't panic." Suddenly, Sunday Serenity felt someone embrace her from behind. Soft shoulders held her close. "Don't panic," the voice said gently. "I'm here. There's nothing to be afraid of."
She was being comforted.
Soothed by the soft voice, Sunday Serenity clenched her fists, desperately suppressing the physical agony.
"If the deceased recall the moments before their death, they relive the pain anew," Sunday Silence said, holding her until Sunday Serenity completely calmed down.
Like a human instinct, it was unavoidable. So the best way was to forget.
The more you remember, the deeper the pain, and the pain, in turn, reinforces the memory of death, creating a vicious cycle.
Countless souls have been driven mad by death, turning into vengeful spirits.
They lose their sanity, wander the streets, bringing misfortune to those around them, while eternally torturing themselves.
"You just need to look at what's in front of you, look at this room, think of me. That's enough…"
Clenching her fists, Sunday Serenity felt like someone crawling out of a quagmire. She took deep, steady breaths, and the pain gradually receded.
"That's better," Sunday Silence released her hold.
"Are you okay?" Manhattan Cafe stood up, asking with concern.
While she was speaking, her 'friend's' body had suddenly started shaking for no reason, as if in great distress.
And the faint, mist-like smoke emanating from her—no matter how you looked at it, it wasn't normal.
"I'm fine." She raised a hand to stop Cafe's approach and replied.
Then, she began to use the disguise techniques she knew best, the ones she was most skilled at, wrapping herself layer by layer until everything appeared perfectly normal.
--+--
T/N: While I am an inexperienced Translator, I have a Patreon! While it may seem empty as of now, webnovel will get 3 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
[email protected]/AspenTL
If you guys wanna check it out.