The Moment She Was Reborn as His Sister
I thought dying granted you a final, convenient hallucination. Because Onii-sama would never scream my name raw with terror. He would never try to hold me back.
I forced my eyes open.
A sky choked with clouds. A wall that no longer existed. Four traitors erased from the world. And Onii-sama—left hand stretched toward me, palm glowing like a second sun.
Something overwhelming poured from that hand. It tore through my Information Boost barrier as if it were tissue paper and flooded every cell.
His heart wrapped around my body. There was no other way to describe it.
He read me—every atom—then rewrote me. By his will. By his power.
Too vast for the word "magic." Too delicate. Too bold. Too gentle.
This—this alone—was worthy of the name.
I saw Death retreat, shoulders slumped in defeat. A hallucination, of course. Yet it looked so humanly frustrated that I laughed—bloodless, painless, free.
"Miyuki—are you hurt!?"
His face filled my cleared vision, eyes wide with panic I had never been allowed to see.
"Onii-sama…"
The word slipped out like it had always belonged on my tongue.
"Thank god…!"
I should have panicked. I should have screamed. He was crushing me against his chest—tight, desperate, real. But my heart simply said: This is where I'm supposed to be.
When he finally loosened his arms, my fingers snatched the hem of his jacket on pure reflex. He looked down, startled, then smiled—small, sheepish—and ruffled my hair.
"Ah—"
The smile vanished. His face hardened into the focused blankness of absolute concentration. His gaze locked on Mother and Honami-san, their lives flickering.
"Onii-sama—!"
No answer. He drew the left-hand CAD. A storm of psions ignited inside him—more than I had ever felt. A titanic information body assembled in the space of a heartbeat.
His finger squeezed the trigger.
Mother's body vanished into his palm— —no, that was the illusion.
I understood because I had just lived it. He copied every byte of her existence into his calculation zone, edited the bullets out of history, and overwrote reality.
Wounds gone. Blood gone. I caught her as she pitched forward, breathing—steady, alive.
(Before the shots… no—) (The shots never happened.)
The CAD swung toward Honami-san. Faster. Smoother. Third time in ten minutes, and the spell was already evolving.
(He's mastering it…) (Of course he is. He's Onii-sama.)
My chest swelled with pride so fierce it hurt. Every stupid doubt I'd bled out earlier stayed dead.
Honami-san stared at her unblemished stomach. "…Tatsuya-kun, this is…"
A medic confirmed Mother was simply asleep. I exhaled ten years of fear.
Major Kazama bowed. Tatsuya told him to lift his head. They had bought him the seconds he needed to reach us.
"Enemy?"
"Great Asian Alliance—near certainty."
While they spoke, Honami-san and I stayed silent. Even Mother would have. This was Onii-sama's privilege alone.
"Secure my mother, my sister, and Honami-san. Lend me an armored suit and full infantry kit. Consumables non-returnable."
My breath caught. He left himself off the protection list.
I stared into his eyes and froze.
Inside those pupils, pale-blue hellfire roared.
"They laid hands on Miyuki. They will answer for it."
Every soul in the room went bloodless—except the major, who simply nodded.
Final confirmations. Warnings. Permission granted.
Tatsuya turned to Honami-san.
"Honami-san—take care of them."
He had never called her that before. I barely registered him sprinting toward the battlefield.
Because the old Miyuki had died in a pool of her own blood. And the new one— the one who would burn the world to keep her brother smiling— had just opened her eyes.
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Next chapter: "The Price of God's Magic" (He will make them regret teaching him what "sister" means.)
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