She chuckled raggedly as a second tear streamed down her cheek, but this one held a different emotion in it. "I couldn't believe that it was reality… My hopeless tomboy of a big sis finally found her place in this world… What a shocking turn of events… I thought you'd never be truly happy if you weren't fighting or training."
Still, Serika said nothing.
She simply moved to her knees beside her sister's mangled form. Her hands rested on her knees, firm and steady. Her gaze, unwavering, met Lysandra's with a strange intensity. It was a strange mix of mourning and fond memory.
Then, after a long beat of silence, Serika finally spoke.
Her voice was low, controlled. But there was a crack in it—a rawness that even she couldn't hide.
"…Was any of it real?"
Lysandra blinked slowly.
Serika's gaze didn't waver as she spoke up once again. "Did you ever… truly cherish me? Or was I just another piece on your board? Just another person you played?"