A future point in time.
It was mid-afternoon in the heart of summer. Sunlight slanted through lace curtains, scattering dappled patches of light across the room — a quiet, cozy little cottage furnished with Persian rugs and rattan chairs, home to only two people. The interplay of light and shadow it cast was just right.
On the windowsill, potted violets and pure white lilies swayed in a gentle breeze, their silhouettes wavering across the wooden floor.
"Lady Durandal, you said... you just crossed through time into the past?"
The gray-and-gold-haired beauty who had been watering the white lilies set down her watering can and turned around, wearing the same warm, graceful smile as always.
"Based on the intelligence I've gathered, to be more precise, it's most likely a parallel world rather than the literal past..."
Sharing such a fantastical experience with her dearest friend — yet Bianca saw not a single trace of surprise on Rita's face.
"...? Doesn't this strike you as strange? Aren't you the least bit shocked?"
Rita glanced at the calendar. The smile on her gray-gold face didn't diminish even slightly in response to Bianca's urgent tone.
"If my memory serves, that particular explanation is the one Lady Bronya taught you during your last round of Truth or Dare. That said — your acting has improved enormously, Lady Bianca!"
"...?"
Bianca blinked. Something clicked. She laughed despite herself, torn between amusement and exasperation.
"Rita. I am. Not. Joking. Hmm...!?"
Before she could finish the sentence, the world's light shifted without warning — the languid summer afternoon dissolved in an instant into the first hush of nightfall.
Bianca stood in stunned silence, staring at her dearest friend bathed in moonlight, wearing the rose maid's dress that stirred something deep and nostalgic in her. Rita looked slightly — only slightly — younger than she remembered, and the scythe in her hand was Skadi of Eternal Frost, which by rights should have been retired to a display case by now.
"From... the future?"
"Rita!?"
A wary, disbelieving question and a baffled, startled cry rang out at the same moment.
[Other Bianca — you're back again?]
A voice carrying just a trace of youthful softness resonated within Bianca's mind — Daylight, sounding genuinely surprised.
Hearing it, Bianca first went still in confusion, swept her gaze around the surroundings — and the moment she spotted the small silver-haired girl, it all snapped into place.
She was back in the past!
[Could you explain the current situation?]
After a beat of silence, Bianca collected herself with impressive speed.
[I gave you the broad strokes before. A full explanation would take a while — but for now, can you help convince the Rita standing in front of us that I really am Bianca?]
Daylight communicated in the direct, no-filters style that suited Bianca's character to a tee. I'm going to the original Bianca herself for identity verification — what could possibly go wrong?
[...Understood.]
After a moment's consideration, Bianca gave her answer.
Both her body's instincts and her own gut told her the same thing with perfect clarity: the owner of this body was another Bianca — a so-called parallel-world isotope. She had always known isotopes existed.
Since it was herself, the odds of malicious intent were low. That wasn't to say Bianca was naïve enough to assume every version of herself across every parallel world was inherently good — but through the mental link she shared with her other self, she could sense the other's emotions directly.
[One thing, though — if this is a parallel world, then technically speaking, the Rita standing in front of me isn't the one I know, is she?]
[I told you before, I can't say for certain whether this counts as a parallel world from your perspective. Either way — let's just give it a try.]
[Alright.]
A silver moon hung in the sky, half-veiled by cloud, shy as it cast its clean, pure light down over a quiet world. The air turned faintly charged with something unspoken.
Rita lowered her head, her expression hidden in the shadow of her bangs, and walked toward little Bianca on long, black-stockinged legs. She crouched down — and fixed the small girl with an unblinking stare, those wine-red eyes rich and vivid as fresh blood.
A breath of perfumed warmth brushed Bianca's face. She instinctively stepped back.
She had agreed to this — but facing the heat burning beneath Rita's skeptical gaze, certain not-entirely-pleasant thoughts began to surface.
"Ri— Rita..."
"Lady Durandal — when we first entered the Sea of Quanta together to carry out a mission, what was threatening the drifting pirates?"
For Rita, determining the identity of the person before her was a trivially simple matter. In this world, no one — no one — understood Durandal more thoroughly than she did. All it took was a few questions that only the two of them could know the answers to.
Bianca caught Rita's intent in an instant. She crossed her small arms over her chest. "Leviathan."
"Correct."
Rita nodded with a smile and continued: "Then — how did we finish it off, down to the last fin?"
"Leviathan wasn't something we dealt with ourselves. Shakespeare and her crew handled it with the amphibious ironclad Caledonia. I seem to recall getting absolutely drenched that time."
Those distant memories hadn't faded with the passing years — they had transformed into something unforgettable, a past too warm to let go of. As Bianca recalled it, a fond smile touched her lips, her blue eyes brimming with nostalgia.
Under Silver Wing's watchful gaze, the two of them played a five-minute round of twenty questions.
"Next question: after Caledonia's large-scale refit, how many torpedoes could she carry?"
Rita leaned in slowly, tilting her captivating, radiant face toward the small girl as though trying to apply just a little extra pressure. The effect was friendly — and impish, like a miniature devil.
"Torpedoes? That — that would be..."
Bianca's lips pressed into a tight line. Her small face flushed red. She answered with the vexed indignation of someone who's just caught the other player cheating:
"Who would remember something that trivial!"
"Incorrect."
Rita let out a theatrically scandalized exclamation: "Oh my goodness — who are you?! Why are you impersonating Lady Durandal?!"
"Oh, please — at least try to act convincingly!"
Bianca sputtered. "You've been smiling this whole time! You haven't stopped once!"
She had long since seen through her adjutant's true nature during their days exploring the Sea of Quanta together — on the surface, unfailingly polite and courteous to everyone, but concealing a scheming little devil underneath. And that little devil had a particular fondness for teasing her.
"Ahem."
Silver Wing — who had seen through everything long ago — spoke up at exactly the right moment, cheerfully raising her phone toward Rita: "One adorable photo of Bianca blushing and fuming, fresh off the press — a thousand dollars apiece."
"Bronya!"
It seemed the childhood body was having other effects on Durandal as well — making her emotions run closer to the surface, drawing her instinctively toward more childlike behavior.
"Oh, yes please — I'll take all of them, Miss Bronya!"
Rita's speed in pulling out her phone to pay would have put the most fervent fan racing for concert tickets to shame.
"Rita!!"
Little Bianca puffed her cheeks slightly, then let out a long breath. "Which question was it? When did you actually know?"
"The third one~" Rita tilted her chin up slightly, like a swan savoring its triumph.
"The third? Then two questions would have been enough?" Little Bianca blinked in surprise.
Rita considered this seriously. "If you factor in my thorough knowledge of every one of Lady Durandal's habits, mannerisms, tone of voice, and the subtlest quirks of her behavior — all of it, down to the last detail — then yes, two was sufficient."
"Though I suppose I've known for quite some time already..."
Watching Rita rattle off each detail with the ease of someone reciting a beloved catalog, little Bianca felt a nervous swallow rise unbidden in her throat, a faint sheen of perspiration at her brow. "Rita... you really are a terrifying person."
"I am deeply honored by Lady Durandal's praise."
Hearing little Bianca's indignant assessment, Rita smiled with evident delight. Bianca couldn't help shooting her a look:
"That wasn't a compliment!"
Rita merely smiled, then turned toward the silver-haired girl with a touch of hesitation: "In any case, Miss Bronya — would you be willing to explain the current circumstances to me?"
"First of all, I haven't fully figured it out myself. Second, I need to know where you stand."
Silver Wing held up one finger with a bright smile. "Bianca and I are about to infiltrate the [Schicksal] branch and bring Wendy out. Are you going to side with Otto and stop us — or are you going to help us?"
"If it's the former, you'll have to go through both me and Bianca first."
Otto... or a loli Durandal?
Did they really need to ask?
"Ha~"
Rita laughed elegantly. "Then there is only one answer."
"Rita will stand by Lady Bianca's side, always."
"Mm~ You didn't snap your scythe in half as a token of loyalty, but I'll take your word for it."
Silver Wing snapped her fingers.
Thank me later, Rita-sis!
As everyone knew — Rita had a habit of things going sideways on her, almost on a daily basis. But as long as she switched sides fast enough — flipped the cart before it could flip her — the crash could never catch up!
"Thank you, Sister Rita~~!"
The earnest expression on those refined, delicate features suddenly bloomed into a dazzling, childlike grin. The golden-haired little loli squeezed her voice up into a sweeter register — and in that instant, Daylight ended auto-battle and reclaimed control of the body.
"La— Lady Durandal..."
The address didn't quite fit Durandal's usual demeanor, but... none of that mattered right now.
In this moment, Rita felt she could die without regret. Even if the little girl told her to go cut down Otto on the spot, she would do it without a moment's hesitation.
"Then we'll be counting on you to get us inside the branch, Rita."
Silver Wing reached out and hauled Rita's soul back from the threshold of heaven.
"Of course, Lady Durandal, Miss Bronya — please, follow me."
Rita inclined her head slightly, her steps light and quick.
The [Schicksal] S-rank Valkyrie. The Archbishop's black glove. She defected without a second thought — and took up the glorious role of tour guide.
Along the way, through the mental link, Daylight deployed a carefully calibrated arsenal of half-truths, 'factually accurate yet conceptually vague' framings, and artfully leading rhetoric.
She guided Bianca into filling in the blanks herself and reaching her own conclusions — accomplishing a thoroughly convincing, logically airtight exchange.
Successfully deceived — ahem, persuaded — Bianca into believing this had been an accident, and into understanding that she currently found herself in the past, participating in a mission to prevent the Fourth Eruption.
The upright former strongest S-rank Valkyrie, now Chief Instructor of the [Schicksal] Academy — of course Bianca wasn't going to stand by and watch a Honkai eruption unfold. She immediately declared she would help.
Under the guidance of Rita — a currently active S-rank Valkyrie with top-level clearance — they used the Jizo Mitama to hack past the branch's security systems. Silver Wing and Daylight, who had each fabricated entirely fictional cover identities for themselves on the fly, strolled straight past the garrison forces and walked through the front gate of the New Zealand branch in broad daylight.
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