The voices grew more numerous, closer, louder—as if countless young girls were chattering inside Milora’s head.
No matter how much she scratched her ears, pulled her hair, clutched her head, or covered her ears, nothing worked. She had no choice but to grit her teeth and follow her inner instinct in search of the sound’s source, wandering through the boundless fog.
— “Little Light and I made a pact! Our only reunion can be on stage!” — “You’re always thinking only of yourself.”
The clamor grew ever more raucous as Milora, like a lost child, shuffled through the fog—fumbling,...
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