"Rozaliya is about to be captured!"
Rozaliya looked utterly bewildered. She couldn't get to the point when she spoke, shaking her head and tail as she talked, her pink hair swaying about in an inexplicably irritating way. Talulah held her sword in one hand, unconcerned with how Rozaliya behaved.
What she cared about was the content of Rozaliya's words.
Captured?
Captured by whom? When? And how did Rozaliya herself know?
But Talulah soon loosened her grip on the sword. She had taken Rozaliya's words too seriously and nearly forgotten the whole set of character settings Rozaliya had imposed on her—Rozaliya, an idol, a great stage actress, and an unprecedented, unsurpassable playwright, despite having some difficulty even reading herself.
If this was a script, she should play along.
Talulah thought so naturally. Her hand, which had just relaxed, clenched again. On second thought, she simply drew her sword. Flames burst to life along the long greatsword, warping even the air around it. Ordinary people would be unable to approach.
"Explain clearly. Who is it?"
"Waaah!" Sob, sob.
Rozaliya rigorously stayed true to her character setting and couldn't properly describe the scene she had vaguely sensed. When her anxiety peaked, she pulled out Blood Dance and gave the antenna tower at the top a whack. The towering metal frame shuddered, letting out a dull groan like something on its last legs. Her slender arms whipped up a gale that directly blew out the flames Talulah had just ignited.
Stunned.
Talulah said nothing. Instead, she silently sheathed her sword and no longer put on the stance of a warrior.
"Who is it?"
"My little sister."
Rozaliya answered honestly. Blood Dance danced through the air, and her snow-white tail curled around itself in layers. For some reason, she kept smiling. The longer one looked