Chapter 686: Why Are There Only Three Of You?

Dinner had been a masterpiece.

Mika had insisted on cooking himself, shooing Korra out of the kitchen with a teasing grin every time she tried to help, which was often, because the idea of Mika laboring over a stove in her palace made her itch with a specific, warm kind of guilt.

Maria had watched him cook with a knowing gaze. The sisters had watched him cook with barely concealed adoration. And Korra had watched him cook the way a plant watches the sun.

Finally, he made something extraordinary: a roast seasoned with spices from three realms, glazed vegetables, a sauce that made Nuri actually eat her greens without being bribed, and a dessert that had reduced the entire table to reverent silence.

When it was finally time to leave, the farewell had been…prolonged.

“I don’t see why you have to go!” Nuri whined, clinging to Mika’s arm with all her tiny might. “The guest rooms are really nice! And I have a new board game! And Maria could stay too! Please, Mika, please—”

Korra stood behind her daughter, nodding with alarming enthusiasm.

“She’s right, you know. The palace is enormous. There’s no reason you couldn’t stay the night. Or several nights. As many as you want, really.”

Her voice had gone a little too eager, a little too breathless.

“I could show you the gardens in the morning. And the treasury. And—”

Korra caught herself. The other girls were looking at her again—that strange, doubtful expression that had been creeping onto their faces all evening.

Then, as the others turned toward the transport circle, she darted forward, pressed a lightning-quick kiss to Mika’s lips, and retreated with the flustered speed of a girl half her age.

Mika had watched her go, shaking his head with a mixture of dismay and fondness.

“Shy little maiden.” He’d muttered. “Who knew.”

—

The trip home required the interdimensional transport hub.

Dragoska, after all, wasn’t part of the human world—it was an entirely separate realm, and crossing between realms wasn’t as simple as hopping on a train.

The transport hub was exactly what it sounded like: a massive facility, the closest equivalent to an airport in the multiverse, where rows of enormous artificial portals hummed with power, each one keyed to a specific destination realm.

Private portals existed, of course. Certain organizations and high-ranking individuals had authorization to create their own.

But the vast majority of travelers like merchants, families, workers, tourists passed through hubs like this one.

The reasoning was simple: chaos prevention.

If every individual could open portals wherever they wanted, inter-realm crime would be unstoppable.

A terrorist could bomb a marketplace and vanish into another dimension before anyone could react. A thief could steal a crown jewel and step through a portal into a realm with no extradition treaty.

The hubs were the solution—controlled, monitored, and overseen by none other than Nadia, who maintained an iron grip on all inter-realm travel.

Trade, tourism, diplomacy—everything flowed through these facilities. They were the arteries of the multi-realm civilization.

Mika, of course, could easily open his own portal. He could have whisked them all home with a snap of his fingers.

But he didn’t like using his abilities for ordinary tasks. He preferred to move through the world, the way ordinary people did. It kept him grounded. Humble. Human.

Unfortunately, using the public hub meant dealing with the public.

The moment the sisters stepped through the arrival gate, pandemonium erupted.

“Is that—oh my god, it’s THEM!”

“LADY CHARLOTTE! LADY CHARLOTTE, OVER HERE!”

“ANYA! ANYA, I LOVE YOU!”

“IS THAT ASTRID?! SHE’S HOLDING SOMETHING—IS THAT A FOX?! SHE HAS A FOX!”

Cameras flashed like a storm of artificial lightning. Voices layered over each other in a cacophony of adoration. Some people were actually crying, tears streaming down their faces as though they’d witnessed a divine visitation.

Charlotte, ever the idol, had been trained by her mother since childhood to maintain a perfect public image. She straightened her posture, fixed a radiant smile on her face, and waved with the practiced grace of royalty.

The crowd’s cheering doubled in volume.

Anya simply walked forward, cool and composed, her expression unreadable. Somehow, that made her even more magnetic.

Men and women alike swooned as she passed, her sharp eyes never once glancing their way.

Astrid couldn’t have cared less about the crowd. She was too busy cooing at the small white fox cradled in her arms.

Aster, having been officially adopted from the zoo earlier that day, was sleeping peacefully against Astrid’s chest, her seven tiny tails wrapped around Astrid’s wrist like a living bracelet.

The fox had also spent time playing with baby dragons during their visit, and the experience had apparently exhausted her completely.

She’d become a celebrity in her own right. The moment Aster’s photos had surfaced, a fan page had sprung up—millions of followers within days.

Overnight, the fox from the zoo had become one of the most famous animals in existence.

And then there was Maria. Walking beside the Battle Angel daughters with perfect composure, her dark hair flowing behind her, her expression cool and unbothered.

The public was baffled. Who was this woman? She wasn’t a Battle Angel. She wasn’t famous. She didn’t even have a blessing. And yet here she was, moving through the chaos like she owned it.

Speculation ran wild. Rumors began before she’d even reached the exit.

And Mika? Mika was there too. He was always there. And somehow, as always, no one quite noticed him.

Eyes slid past him. Cameras failed to capture his face. He moved through the crowd like a ghost—present, but utterly unremarkable. It was a talent he had cultivated over years of practice, and it served him well.

Eventually, with the assistance of several overwhelmed security guards, the group pushed through the surge, stepped through the portal, and emerged into silence.

The building they emerged from was a warehouse-like space. Bare cement walls, high ceilings, a single portal generator humming at the center.

No crowds, no cameras, no screaming fans. This was one of the family’s own transport hubs, reserved for the daughters themselves; no one else dared use it, and no one questioned why the Battle Angels had private transportation arrays scattered across half a dozen worlds.

Mika stepped out of the facility into the cool night air of the parking area, stretched his arms over his head with a satisfied groan, and grinned at the night sky.

“Well.” He declared. “That’s a wrap! Three days of flawless execution, every photo timed to perfection, the internet in absolute shambles—we even got those bonus PR shots back at there.”

“The whole operation was a complete and total success!”

Charlotte let out a groan so profound it should have come with a legal warning.

“Mika. I love you. I really do. But if you bring up those three days one more time, I swear to every god I know, I am going to punch you in the mouth.”

“I’m just saying—”

“Stop saying!”

From the side, Maria’s voice drifted over, dripping with mock sympathy.

“Oh no. However will you survive? Having to travel from place to place, participating in fun activities all the time—what a miserable life.”

She shook her head theatrically. “How do you manage? Truly, I weep for you.”

Charlotte’s eye twitched. “You—!”

“There are people out there who crawl through sewers every day.” Maria continued, utterly unbothered. “Men who jump into burning buildings. Women who do the most horrendous jobs you could imagine, just to scrape together enough to feed their families. And you—”

She gestured at Charlotte with a pitying wave.

“—are complaining about this. How pathetic.”

Charlotte lunged. “You little—!”

Mika caught her around the waist, holding her back with the ease of long practice.

“Easy, easy. She’s joking.”

“Am I?” Maria said sweetly.

“Maybe fifty percent.” Mika admitted. “The other half, well…” He trailed off, because the truth was complicated.

Maria had grown up in the gutters. No parents—just grandparents who could barely make ends meet. She’d worked jobs that were technically illegal for a child her age, because the alternative was starving. She was at Solaris Academy on a scholarship she’d fought tooth and nail for.

She’d earned the right to mock a princess who’d never known a day of hunger in her life.

Charlotte bristled.

“I—that’s not—I know I’m privileged! I know I’ve been given everything! I’m grateful for what I have!”

She crossed her arms, her cheeks flushing.

“But it’s not wrong to complain once in a while, is it? I’m human too. No matter how high my position is, sometimes I just want to grumble. Having power doesn’t mean I have to stay silent about my feelings.”

Maria considered this. Then, to everyone’s surprise, she nodded. “That’s fair.”

Charlotte blinked. “Wait. Really? You’re not going to argue?”

“You made a reasonable point. I have nothing to argue about.”

“I—” Charlotte seemed genuinely thrown. “I don’t know what to do when you’re agreeable. It feels wrong.”

“Would you prefer I insult you?”

“Kind of, yes. That’s how our relationship works.”

“You’re very strange.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“See!” Mika threw an arm around Maria’s shoulders, beaming. “This is what I’ve been telling you. Maria’s great. She has a tough exterior and she’ll say the most venomous things to your face—”

“She did that a lot to you in the past, didn’t she?” Anya asked dryly.

“—but underneath all that.” Mika continued, ignoring her. “She has a very soft heart. She’s genuinely wonderful to be around once you get past the—”

“One thousand seven hundred.”

Everyone turned to look at Maria.

“One thousand seven hundred.” She repeated, a slow, devilish smirk spreading across her face. “That’s approximately how many hours I spent with Mika last year. Same class. Same schedule. All day, every day, together.”

The air temperature dropped.

“And you three?” Maria looked at Charlotte, then Astrid, then Anya. “What, maybe a few dozen hours each? A hundred, if you’re being generous? Even if you combined all your time and multiplied it several times over, it wouldn’t come close to what I had.”

She grabbed Mika’s arm and pulled herself against him in a gesture that was unmistakably possessive.

“Just thought I’d mention that.”

Charlotte lunged. “THAT’S IT—I’M GOING TO—”

“Charlotte, no—” Mika caught her around the waist.

“LET ME AT HER—”

“Try it.” Maria said sweetly. “I’ve survived worse than you.”

“WORSE?! I’LL SHOW YOU WORSE—”

Mika found himself holding back Charlotte with one arm and Maria with the other, like a harried father separating two squabbling children.

‘Somehow it was easier with the mothers.’ He thought grimly. ‘The younger ones are infinitely more trouble.’

But then Maria pulled back, a thoughtful look crossing her face. She studied Astrid. Then Anya. Then Charlotte.

“What?” Charlotte demanded. “What are you looking at?”

“Three.” Maria said slowly. “There are only three of you.”

“Obviously? Are you blind!”

“But there are five daughters of the Battle Angels, aren’t there?” Maria’s eyes narrowed. “Five sisters. And the whole point of this three-day campaign was to show the world that your family is united. So tell me—where are the other two?”

Astrid sighed, carefully adjusting the sleeping

Aster in her arms so the noise wouldn’t wake her.

“One of them is…she never leaves the Sanctuary. She supervises the children there. We’ve tried to bring her out—our mothers have tried—but it’s nearly impossible. She’s always there. Always.”

“But.” She added, glancing at Mika. “If Mika were the one to invite her, she’d probably come. She’s…different with him.”

“And the other?” Maria pressed. “The fifth sister?”

The change in atmosphere was immediate. All three sisters tensed. Even Anya, who rarely showed any emotion at all, looked suddenly exhausted.

“As for our second youngest sister.” Charlotte said, her face growing slightly nervous. “I don’t really know what to say.”

She paused.

“If she had been brought over here, she probably would have ruined everything.”

Maria raised an eyebrow. “Why? Does she have some vendetta against you? Do you not get along? Is there going to be a war between the daughters?”

Anya shook her head.

“Not at all. We actually get along quite well. Even though we’ve fought many times in the past, it’s always put aside at the end of the day. We’re still sisters, no matter what.”

The other two nodded in agreement.

“But.” She continued, sighing. “This one sister is…what can I say…a bit…”

“….Chaotic.”

“….Chaotic.”

“….Chaotic.”

All three sisters said at the same time.

“Chaotic?” Maria repeated.

And the floodgates opened, as the sisters ranted tales of their so-called chaotic sister.

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