"Kiana, could you please stop squeezing my hand so secretly? It's... a little embarrassing."
After pulling Kiana from the snowdrift, the Captain led her through the blizzard, searching for shelter. The wind howled louder with each passing minute, and the snow piled thick on her shoulders. She brushed it off, but the weight of worry only grew heavier.
The guiding intuition that had led her to Kiana earlier had vanished. Now, every direction looked the same—an endless white void.
And in this lawless Siberia wasteland, danger lurked everywhere. The lords who ruled these lands wouldn't hesitate to seize two vulnerable girls, especially ones as striking as the Captain and Kiana.
The Captain grimaced. Becoming a beautiful girl had brought no advantages—only complications. Her strength had diminished, her stamina waned quickly, and her body felt fragile. In a place like this, that fragility was a liability.
Meanwhile, Kiana walked beside her with a carefree bounce in her step, as if they were strolling through a quiet suburb rather than a frozen battlefield. Her face showed no trace of concern. She held the Captain's hand tightly, guiding her toward a ruin she remembered.
To Kiana, this blizzard was nothing.
She still carried the core of the Herrscher of the Void.
For the original Kiana, that core was a nightmare. But for this Kiana—reborn, resolved—it was just a tool. A quiet companion.
The Herrscher's voice had been silent since the time reversal. Perhaps she was still dormant. Perhaps she was watching.
Kiana remembered how, in the previous cycle, the Herrscher of the Void had shown a peculiar fondness for the Captain. That alone was reason enough to keep her sealed away—at least until Kiana and the Captain officially confirmed their relationship.
This cycle was full of surprises. Even the Captain had somehow surpassed Fu Hua in certain... aspects.
Kiana didn't know if the other Valkyries would return with their memories. That was a problem for later.
For now, she was content. She could hold the Captain's hand openly, and the Captain didn't resist.
Later, when things got more complicated, she might not have this chance again.
Hehe... her hand is so soft. So smooth. So warm.
So when the Captain asked her to let go, Kiana turned with a pitiful expression.
"Captain... are you looking down on Kiana?"
The Captain sighed, flustered.
"No, no, of course not. I just... sigh, I can't win with you. Fine. If we're going to hold hands, then hold on tighter. I don't want you getting lost."
Seeing Kiana's aggrieved little face, the Captain knew she was probably faking it. But still... her heart ached a little.
She tightened her grip.
Kiana smiled—just barely. A subtle curve at the corner of her lips.
She had succeeded. While the Captain was still adjusting to her new body, Kiana would gently guide her thoughts. That way, even if the other Valkyries showed up later, she'd already have the advantage.
But she didn't push further. She knew the value of restraint.
She simply led the Captain toward the ruins, humming softly to herself.
The Captain followed, watching Kiana's bouncing silhouette. Something felt... different.
This Kiana was more mature. More composed. And strangely familiar.
Her behavior was odd too. What child says "I want to be your knight" to someone they just met?
But the Captain didn't dwell on it. After all, she herself had become a girl. A little deviation from the game's script was expected.
She didn't dislike this Kiana. In fact, she felt drawn to her.
There was affection—yes—but also something deeper. A quiet urge to protect her. To stay close.
She didn't understand these emotions. But she knew they were real.
And that was enough.
Far away, beneath the ruins, in a hidden basement—
Bronya stirred.
She lay curled on a cardboard box, her body trembling. Her breathing was uneven, her eyes heavy with fatigue.
She hadn't slept well in days.
Every time she closed her eyes, the same dream returned.
A girl. Sad eyes. Silent steps.
She would glance at Bronya once—just once—and then walk away, disappearing into the darkness.
Bronya tried to speak to her. To ask who she was. Why she felt so familiar.
Why her heart ached every time she saw her.
But the girl never responded. Never looked back.
She just walked forward, alone.
Bronya chased her. Called out. Begged.
But the girl never answered.
It was as if... as if Bronya didn't exist in her world.
No matter how many books she read, how many people she asked—no one could explain this feeling.
The girl was sad. Bronya could feel it.
But she refused to share that sadness with her.
As if it had never belonged to Bronya.
Only that first glance—so full of sorrow—connected them.
Bronya had spent days trying to understand the dream. She'd delayed missions. Ignored orders. Her mental state had deteriorated.
She knew she wasn't fit to carry out her next assignment. But she had no choice.
If she didn't act soon, the target would vanish.
And the blue-haired girl who depended on her... she was still waiting.
Bronya tried to rise. But her body was weak. Her vision blurred.
She stumbled off the box and collapsed onto the cold floor.
Darkness. Cold. Confusion.
Everything she could once handle with ease now overwhelmed her.
She lay there, eyes dimming, trying to force herself to move.
She still had to save the girl who was waiting for her.
She couldn't fall asleep here.
She still had to find the one who was always sad...
But as her final thoughts slipped away, Bronya's heavy eyelids closed completely.
Was it sleep?
Or was it something deeper—unconsciousness, perhaps?
No matter what it was, surely this time...
That foolish girl with sorrow in her eyes wouldn't come to disturb her rest again.
Is that a blessing for you, Bronya?
Or a quiet tragedy?
But does it even matter now?
Whether this feeling is important to you or not...
Whether it ever truly belonged to you...
It has nothing to do with you anymore, does it?
So sleep.
Sleep, my dear girl.
Sleep before you wake.
Sleep before you remember.
Sleep while your heart is still quiet.
While your soul is still untouched.
Because somewhere far away,
A girl who could bend time itself
Still clings to the threads of fate.
She wants to hold everything in her hands.
To rewrite every sorrow.
To erase every regret.
But will she truly get her wish?
Or will she keep starting over—again and again—
Until the one with light in her eyes
Finally, irrevocably, completely fell in love with her?