Chapter 365: Bronya at Work
In the central command hall of the Inner City, the bright silver-gray steel walls set the tone—a place of precision and control.
Rows upon rows of identical Cecilias, each in spotless white uniforms and wearing blue data visors, filled the tiered room. They busily typed commands across countless floating screens, orchestrating the deployment and coordination of the world's military forces with clockwork order.
At the very top of this futuristic, imposing chamber floated the supreme commander's seat—suspended midair, facing a massive global terrain projection.
And there sat Bronya, legs crossed, one hand resting against her cheek as she stared at the holographic map. Though small and doll-like in appearance, her cold gray eyes carried a piercing sharpness that made it hard for anyone to look her directly in the eye.
"Bronya!!!"
Just as the operations ran smoothly, a blur of white and blue—short sleeves, short skirt—suddenly dropped from the air and latched onto Bronya's hand, eyes brimming with tears.
"I'm done for! Totally done for! Bronya, you've gotta help me, or I'm dead meat!"
"…What stupid thing did you do this time?"
Bronya slowly lifted her gaze, the frost in her tone enough to make anyone flinch.
Before her stood Kiana, trembling so hard it was like even her teeth were chattering, face pale as she stammered:
"I-I just… wanted to use that medicine… the one that…"
"Medicine?" Bronya's eyes narrowed. "You touched my special arsenal?"
In that instant, she pieced everything together—the drug, Sigurd's sudden anger, and that one particular incident from before.
She had kept a small supply afterward, aware of how dangerously effective it was. In a desperate situation, it could turn the tide in her nightly battle against Sigurd—but it was also far too risky to ever let out of containment.
Only Bronya had access to it. Both she and Sigurd had agreed never to let that substance circulate freely. It was too potent, too unpredictable—a true double-edged sword.
Kiana froze mid-stammer, then pouted miserably.
"I'm sorry, okay? I just… I just couldn't stand losing again."
Bronya sighed softly. "Always competing, always reckless… that's classic idiot Kiana. But even I didn't expect you'd compete over this. So, you got caught—Sigurd's on his way, isn't he?"
Kiana swallowed hard. "…Yeah. I put it in the water. And Senti drank it."
"Then yes," Bronya said coldly, "you're doomed. Bronya can't save you."
Before Kiana could reply, Bronya suddenly looked past her—toward something behind.
Kiana blinked, confused. She hadn't yet realized what that meant… until she felt a large hand clamp down on her head.
"Gah!"
A strangled cry escaped her lips. Cold sweat instantly beaded on her forehead.
Turning her head ever so slowly, she found herself staring up into Sigurd's icy, expressionless gaze—towering, silent, merciless.
Her voice trembled.
"I… I can say my last words, right?"
Then, unexpectedly, Sigurd's cold look melted into a gentle, kindly smile.
"Go ahead."
"…Don't hit the face. It'll ruin my image."
"And?"
"A-and… everyone's watching. Can we… um… do this somewhere private?"
Kiana gave a weak laugh, pitiful and desperate—the very picture of weak, helpless, and cute.jpg.
Sigurd glanced down, then sideways—and sure enough, aside from Bronya sitting nearby, the Cecilias scattered across the command floor were all glancing their way. The data visors hid their eyes, but there was no mistaking the amusement in the air.
"Finish talking and get out," Bronya said flatly. "You're disrupting Bronya's work."
"…Pretty sure you started this," Sigurd muttered, lightly tapping her on the head.
Bronya stuck out her tongue in mock innocence, her bright gray eyes feigning complete purity.
Sigurd chuckled quietly, then tightened his grip on Kiana's head—and dragged her out of the command room.
"You made a mistake."
"I'm sorryyy…"
"First of all, that's Bronya's armory—weapons prepared for extreme combat situations. Stealing from there is a serious offense. Second, you dragged an outsider into it—and that body happened to belong to Fu Hua. She might be patient, and I did manage to give Senti the antidote in time, but it still left a bad impression. Third… who gave you the guts to pull a trick on me?"
Sigurd pinched Kiana's chin, smiling as he spoke.
Kiana trembled uncontrollably, cold sweat running down her cheek. Her eyes darted left and right, too guilty to meet his gaze.
After a tense silence, she gritted her teeth and broke free from his hand.
"Ugh! Fine, fine! I get it already! Just hit me and get it over with—better to die quick and be reborn sooner!"
She yelled in a mix of frustration and defiance, turned her back to Sigurd, lifted her skirt, and got down on all fours—her round, perky little bottom facing him.
Sigurd glanced at the cute bear-print panties and felt his anger instantly dissolve into pure exasperation.
"Tell me, what kind of nonsense is running through your head this time—to make you do something like this?"
"I'm just not convinced! If Bronya can do it, why can't I? I don't care—I'm going to do it with you too, at least once!"
"Are you jealous? Or just being petty and competitive?"
"I don't know! Just hurry up and hit me! Afterward, I'll go apologize to Fu Hua and Senti!"
Now that she had mentally prepared herself for punishment, Kiana's bravado returned. She puffed up her chest and demanded righteously, then summoned a towel from thin air, stuffed it in her mouth, raised her head, stuck out her butt—looking every bit like someone about to endure some grand ordeal.
Sigurd's mouth twitched.
"Looks like you really have too much free time."
"You talk too much! Are you gonna— mmmph!"
Smack! Smack! Smack!
The sharp sound echoed through the room, accompanied by the girl's completely unladylike shrieks.
Merit deserves reward, mistakes deserve punishment—that had always been Sigurd's rule, and this time was no exception.
. . .
Five minutes later, back in Kiana's room.
Kiana was lying face-down across Sigurd's lap, her skirt lifted, panties pulled down as he gently applied some soothing ointment.
"Hsss— that's cold!"
"Stay still, idiot."
"Hmph! You're the one who hit me, and now you're the one putting on medicine! What's the point of going through all that trouble? Aren't you tired?"
"Who do you think made me do it?"
Sigurd's tone was firm as he gave her a light chop on the back of her head.
Kiana turned to glare at him, eyes red and full of accusation.
"You already spanked me, and you still hit my head!?"
"..."
Sigurd silently finished applying the medicine, watching the redness fade from her skin. Then he sighed and asked,
"Why are you upset? Tell me."
"...You can even tell that?"
"Since you were little—has there ever been anything I couldn't tell?"
"Hmph! Then go ahead and guess!"
Kiana huffed and turned her face away again, still lying across his lap as she reached around to pull her panties and skirt back up.
Then, rubbing her now-numb rear, she heard Sigurd's quiet voice:
"Is it because of Seele and Wendy?"
"You already know, don't you!? You stupid Sig—you disappear for half a year, and right after you come back, this happens! I have to comfort Wendy and the others, and you didn't even say one nice word to me! You jerk! You awful, awful Sig! Big stupid meanie!"
Still sprawled across his lap, Kiana pounded his chest with her fists, each thump dull but heavy with emotion—her voice trembling with tears.
This time, Sigurd truly couldn't bring himself to stop her.
After venting for a while, Kiana turned her head, nose red, watery eyes glistening as she mumbled,
"Why didn't you fight back?"
"I'm sorry… for making you sad again."
Sigurd sighed softly, his hand gently stroking her fair cheek—his voice filled with apology and tenderness.
Kiana turned away again, staying there for a while before finally sitting up, pressing herself against his chest and sniffling softly.
"I… I actually know Sig's really busy. He has so many things to do, and not much time to deal with my selfishness. I also know that the three of us have all fallen into this mess… Seele and Wendy's feelings are understandable, it's not all your fault. But… still, it hurts so much."
Sigurd raised his hand, gently stroking Kiana's hair as he softly patted her back, quietly listening to her words.
Kiana rubbed her cheek against his chest and continued in a trembling voice, "I don't want to make things harder for you, Sig. I don't want those two to be sad either. But… I don't want to share you again! Why does it have to be them? What should I do, Sig? Uuu… uuu…"
Her muffled sobs made Sigurd once again realize how he'd failed her. His chest tightened painfully. He pressed his lips together before speaking slowly:
"Alright then… I won't divide my attention anymore."
"Hic— what did you just say?"
Kiana stopped crying and lifted her head in surprise.
Sigurd wiped the tears from her eyes with his thumb and said gently,
"I'll tell them that I don't have those kinds of feelings. I'll also tell them that the current situation is too urgent for me to worry about anyone's emotions. I think after that, things won't change much between us. When everything's over, I'll keep some distance from them and let it all fade away. I won't split my heart again. So, stop crying."
"Pfft! As if it were that simple, you dummy. You big blockhead!"
Kiana lightly punched Sigurd's chest and let out a tearful laugh.
She was actually easy to comfort—as long as she could feel Sigurd's love and care, nothing else really mattered. And now, in his awkward attempt to comfort her, she could clearly feel it: Sigurd truly valued her, just as he always had—unchanged, unwavering.
Sensing Kiana's mood finally brighten, Sigurd let out a quiet breath of relief.
Then, as her delicate, tear-streaked face entered his view, he couldn't help but lose focus for a moment.
Kiana rubbed her eyes and was about to say something when Sigurd suddenly cupped her cheeks.
"Mmph!!!"
For Kiana, it was the taste of longing after half a year apart; for Sigurd, it was the sweetness he hadn't felt in an even longer time—the warmth and softness of the girl he cherished.
Both of them were so absorbed in the moment that, by the time they parted their lips apart, Kiana had gone weak all over, her face bright red as she leaned limply against Sigurd's chest, heart pounding while she tried to calm her breath and embarrassment.
Thump, thump, thump!
Kiana could hear the rapid heartbeat between them—pressed so close to his chest, she couldn't tell whether it was his or her own. Maybe… both.
After a long while, Kiana raised her head again, her voice soft and trembling.
"Sig… one more time."
Sigurd gazed at her flushed lips, brushing his thumb lightly across them, and smiled faintly.
"Alright."
They leaned in again, losing track of time as their lips met once more.
When they finally parted, Kiana was breathing softly, face glowing red, eyes shimmering with affection as she bit her lip and whispered,
"Again."
"Alright."
Again and again—until Kiana no longer needed to ask, and Sigurd had no intention of stopping.
The door's access permissions were locked completely, ensuring that no one could intrude.
As for what happened beyond that door… that was something no outsider would ever know.
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