"Even as a child, she nearly wiped us out!" William roared, his voice hoarse from shouting.
"I won't stand for this! You know she has changed!" John slammed his palm on the stand counter.
"Back then, she was only a child with a royal's power. But now—she's our protector."
He stepped out from behind the stall, voice sharp, eyes scanning the crowd.
"Princess Alicia has defended Manthrope more times than you've sharpened that shovel, William. Invert or not—she does her duty."
He jabbed a finger toward the hills beyond. "She would never harm us. Let alone my daughter."
A ripple of silence moved through the mob.
Then William stepped forward, jaw clenched.
"We'll be the judge of that."
He raised his voice.
"Bring your daughter out, John. Now!"
Just above them, chaos unfolded.
"Where is my sword?!" Alicia shouted.
Her legs flung upward before she could form another thought.
She was upside down, falling headfirst from the sky.
"Sistah Alicia—we're falling again!" PomPom shouted, her voice caught between panic and wonder.
Alicia's blonde hair whipped across her face as PomPom tried to peek downward.
"No. no. nonono. This can't be happening to me" she said slamming her hilt on her chest crystal.
No hum.
No charge, the crystal was just as an adornment and nothing more.
Fear jolted through her body, shattering whatever control she thought she had.
Instinct took over.
She hugged PomPom tighter.
"Damn it… brace for impact."
"Yay! Brace for impact!" PomPom cheered.
Alicia glanced down— blood rushing to her head
They were falling like a meteor, tearing across the sun's face.
"Too high.
I can't protect her."
"Oh no… not again."
And then—
A memory, sharp and sudden:
Smoke and ash in the air.
A little girl, trembling in the center of a ring of faces—
"Kill the Invert!"
"Before she spreads a plague—
Before she kills us all!"
BOOM!
The town square vanished in a cloud of concrete dust.
Cracks rippled outward—ragged, jagged, like ruffled paper torn under glass.
Three street lamps toppled in unison, crashing to the stone.
Their glass shells burst open—
—and inside, red-yellow seeds glowed like burning coals.
For a breathless moment, everyone froze.
Until the dust settled.
And there she was—
Princess Alicia, standing at the heart of the crater, cradling PomPom in her arms like a weeping mother.
Her eyes were shut tight, as if trying to wake from a nightmare.
Silence swallowed the square.
Then, slowly, Alicia opened her eyes.
Believing the worst was over.
Unfortunately for her…
It wasn't.
PomPom's father stood still in her line of sight.
Then—
A heavy thud.
He dropped to his knees.
"Is that my daughter…"
A tear slid down his cheek.
PomPom wasn't moving.
Her arms hung limp.
Twisted and broken.
Mangled like knotted chains.
Alicia slowly looked down at her chest.
PomPom's limp body rested there—
A thin stream of blood trailing from her head.
Alicia's gut clenched like it had been sliced by a guillotine.
Her hands trembled, each shake syncing with the pounding in her chest.
She reached for PomPom's neck, searching—desperately—for a pulse.
"PomPom… PomPom, please wake up.
PLEASE."
A faint pulse tapped against her fingers.
PomPom was alive.
Alicia's breath hitched.
She wrapped her arms tightly around the girl, sobbing with relief as she rocked back and forth.
"You're alive… Oh, thank the goodness—you're alive."
But then—
She heard them.
Footsteps.
Coming again.
To cast a verdict.
CLAP.
CLAP.
CLAP.
Someone was clapping—slow and deliberate, just behind Alicia.
"Alicia SteelBorne," a voice drawled, full of mock approval.
"Fresh from grieving her father's death…
…and flinging a child into the sky."
A smirk followed the words.
It was Akard—clad in white robes traced with gold, every inch of him gleaming with false holiness.
Alicia didn't need to turn.
She knew that voice like a scar.
Gasps rippled through the crowd:
"The King is dead?"
"How can this be?"
"She flung PomPom into the air?"
Akard reached the edge of the crater.
With deliberate flair, he propped one foot on a broken slab of stone, leaning forward, resting his elbow on his knee like a performer settling into his monologue.
His white and gold robes shimmered in the fractured light.
"Now tell us, Alicia…"
Akard's voice curled through the air like smoke.
"Why did you stage this little tragedy?"
Alicia's head snapped back, eyes wide.
A single word broke from her trembling lips—
"What?"
Akard gave a mock sigh.
"Oh, come now. Don't act innocent. I heard everything…"
His eyes gleamed.
"Even the reason behind your little plan."
Just then, PomPom's mother pushed through the crowd—
Tears streaking her cheeks.
She collapsed into John's arms, gripping him like he owed her a daughter.
John remained motionless—
But his jaw was clenched tight.
So were his fists.
Like a man pushing against an invisible wall, trying not to break.
Alicia rose slowly, PomPom still cradled in her arms.
"What do you mean, plan?" she asked, her voice shaking.
"I just… I just wanted to give her a birthday gift."
Akard tilted his head.
"A birthday gift," he echoed, almost kindly.
Then he smiled.
"Under the guise of a heroic rescue—in front of the whole town?"
He took a step closer.
"So you could… you know—"
"Win the war in their hearts?"
Alicia's face paled.
But before she could respond—
SLAP.
PomPom's mother struck her across the face, rage burning behind the swing.
The sound cracked through the square like a whip.
Her eyes flooded like a breaking dam.
She sobbed as she hissed,
"How dare you use my daughter."
Then—
She spat in Alicia's face.
And with a furious yank, she pulled PomPom from Alicia's arms.
"Disgusting Invert," she snarled.