Cecilia froze.
The spoon in her hand hovered motionless over the bowl.
Whatever the System had just said, it sounded like something they didn't want anyone to know. Or at the very least, a very big accusation.
Dead star gluttons. Perpetrators of the Massacre of the Sixth Realm.
She turned the phrases over in her mind, trying to make them fit the two figures at her dinner table.
Bunny, who had wept over his brother's corpse and kissed his forehead goodbye. Momo, who had stroked her hair and told her to pray.
The same hands that had pinched her cheek and passed her ice cream and folded pasta dough with impossible gentleness—those hands had done something terrible.
Something that made the System, a cosmic entity of unknown power and origin, hiccup in fear.
What... would they do now that she... heard about it?
