Mori Tsukisa opened her eyes.
This seemed to be... a wasteland.
Ash fell like rain onto the desolate land; the sky was heavily blocked by leaden clouds, with not a single ray of light escaping.
Yet the World was bright and clear.
Mori Tsukisa stood on the ash-covered ground, which crunched under her feet—it was a snowfield made of deep dust.
She reached out her palm, and before long, a small layer of soft, cold ash had accumulated in it.
Nearby, two ash balls had been piled into a snowman by someone, with a chocolate-colored finger stuck in as a nose, as the ash fell like a curtain.
It was looking at her.
The intermittent sound of a nursery rhyme being sung came from behind her head.
'The rabbit is skinned, needles pierce the Crow's eyes;'
'A great axe chops off the cat's head, the puppy's belly is sliced open.'
'My fingers are nimble and beautiful, tucked into the chains;'
'Rolled into a delicacy with rabbit skin, then sprinkled with a bit of sweet honey.'
'Do you like to eat it?'
'Or do you prefer my tongue and skin?'
"Come, Elder Sister!"
"Come, eat my love!"
'She belongs to you!'
Mori Tsukisa suddenly turned her head!
A wilderness, a desolate land where nothing grew, dust falling continuously like rain—a grey-white... World.
Turning back again, that little snowman... at some point, had quietly moved closer.
"Come on, come and eat it! My Lady sister!"
This time the voice was on the left—
Turning her head, her gaze shifted; the snowman... had moved closer again.
Its mouth was embedded with the teeth of some unknown creature, grinning all the way to the back of its head; its eyes were two shiny black buttons; its nose—only its nose was a chocolate-colored pinky finger, with fresh blood dripping from beneath the nail drop by drop.
Golden blood.
"Come on, My Lord sister!"
Mori Tsukisa didn't look back to search anymore; she directly stepped forward and walked toward the snowman.
"Oh, you're here, My Lord sister. Did you miss me?"
Someone who could call her sister... the girl could probably guess who it was.
"A little bit." Mori Tsukisa circled the dust-covered snowman. "It's been a long time since we last met, hasn't it?"
"It has, My Lord sister. Because of those annoying **, I couldn't be your mother..."
"So now I can only call you sister..."
What kind of talk was that?
Mori Tsukisa pouted and slowly approached that pinky—it was a woman's pinky, the skin tone not too dark, a healthy chocolate color. The long nail was painted with oil colors, and from the crevices, the brilliant blood grew thicker and thicker.
"When you're in danger, they start playing rock-paper-scissors with great interest..."
"But I didn't even have the qualification to play!" The voice grew more and more furious: "Why do those aged things always use age to demand things of other creatures!"
"I was rejected! I'm very angry! My Lord sister! You've lost the chance to call me mother!"
—Yes, yes, it's truly my regret that I can't call you Mama.
"Ugh... I finally waited until you fell to the edge of life and death... ya ya ya ya, they didn't even notice."
"Are you saying that green curse killed me?" Mori Tsukisa lowered her head and looked at the spot where she had blocked the curse, her face full of resentment. "I haven't even seen my dragon yet!"
"Hahahaha! You're so cute, My Lord sister!"
"Kill you? The Avada Kedavra?"
The voice traveled through the endless Universe and space, visiting Mori Tsukisa's brain. It rubbed against the girl's blood vessels and skin with great interest, pushed aside her muscles, and climbed up along the gaps in her bones—
"The instant-death curse allows you to be on the edge of life and death... this allows me to perceive your state and find you, dear sister. To you, the Curse of Slaying is probably just like a 'one-second daze curse'."
"If you were truly in mortal danger, I wouldn't be able to come over instead..."
"I can't squeeze past that group of idio..." The voice mumbled and became quieter: "...women. They've been going crazy wanting a daughter lately..."
Somehow, Mori Tsukisa heard jealousy and dissatisfaction in those words.
"Oh, our time is running out, My Lord sister. Your soul was forcibly brought into this World by me; it's about to go back."
The grey dust twisted into a slender rope, the end of which pointed to the snowman's nose.
"Do you like my pinky? Chew it up a bit, or it might prick your esophagus."
Eating a finger... unless it's one's own (maybe?).
Mori Tsukisa expressed her refusal.
However, following a crisp 'crack' of bone, another finger was thrown out from the void.
A fresh... ring finger.
"Don't like the pinky?" The voice was dejected and sad. "I thought my pinky was very pretty... if sister doesn't like it, then I'll give the ring finger to you..."
"Do you like the ring finger?"
"Will my ring finger look better than the pinky?"
The young, innocent voice kept urging. Vaguely, Mori Tsukisa perceived that the pressure in this space was growing—the ash falling from the sky began to plunge like a waterfall, and in just a few breaths, it covered the girl's feet.
The clouds grew thicker, and the light that should have been bright also continuously dissipated; her vision became dim.
Time seemed to be constantly turned and accelerated by a pair of hands.
"Don't like the ring finger either?"
"Such a picky sister... it's okay, let me see..."
This time it wasn't the crisp sound of bone, but a tooth-aching tearing sound—first the skin on the outer layer of the bone, then the fat and muscle tissue, and finally the bone itself.
A palm with only three fingers left was thrown in again.
Slap.
Golden blood splashed onto Mori Tsukisa's ankles and calves. The blood flowed with a very granular sensation—it was a dense mass of tiny eyeballs constantly rolling.
"Sister, choose for yourself. Aminatu only has one palm left..."
"It hurts a little."
Mori Tsukisa looked at the palm on the ground and sighed.
"Aminatu?"
"I'm here!"
"Do you want me to eat them all?"
"No, no, no! One, only one! You only have a tiny bit... a teeny bit... a little bit... of my stuff in your body. One is enough! You can't eat them all!"
"It just activates them!"
"One! Pick one, sister!"
Mori Tsukisa actually liked the pinky on the snowman's face—would that... be a bit of a jerk move? The little sister had even torn off her palm... "If sister likes my fingers, I can let you take a few bags. Which parts do you want? Nose? Eyeballs?" The source of the voice thought Mori Tsukisa had a unique fetish for eating strange things and was very enthusiastically introducing her body parts to her.
"No... no need." Mori Tsukisa swallowed, bypassed the palm, and walked in front of the snowman.
She pulled its nose off.
Upon touching it, the dark pinky was still somewhat warm. When her finger pad pressed against it, she could feel a burst of active throbbing—
As if several hearts were hidden inside.
The dense granular sensation kept wriggling in Mori Tsukisa's hand; the eyeballs were being pressed a bit painfully.
"Ah... mmm." The girl opened her mouth, tilted her head back, and threw the golden blood-stained pinky onto the tip of her tongue. Then, her bright red tongue curled around it.
Sss.
Cool, soft, delicate, and not irritating to the throat.
It was like mutton fat or slippery noodles, moving freely within Mori Tsukisa's mouth. It did a somersault and even enthusiastically kissed the tip of the girl's tongue, sucking on her soft flesh and wiggling;
Then, it slid down her throat—as it melted, it emitted the aroma of roasted apples in her esophagus.
"Ahahaha! Sister ate my pinky!" The voice cheered jubilantly. Before her eyes, a dark-skinned little girl seemed to appear, wearing a gold crown, her large pale yellow earrings jingling as she jumped around.
"That part of me has been revived! Now, I really want to show them—who's in the top three?!"
"It's me! It's Oshtur! Hahahahaha!"
"My Lord sister! I love you so much!"
Mori Tsukisa knew it would be like this... competitions, competitions...!
Grow up a bit, my dear relatives!
How about you compete to see who gives me a dragon first!
(╯‵□′)╯ノ┻━┻
Facing the angry Planeswalker sister and the frolicking Planeswalker younger sister... the Profiler, whom no one dared to provoke, carefully rolled up the card face and opened it tremblingly.
[Talent Revival.]
[black swan]
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