Chapter 184: I Can’t Understand What You’re Thinking!
If Yelena was the voice of the Battle Angels—the one who handled communication, media, and diplomacy—Nadia was their blade and shield. She was the leader whenever combat erupted, the first to command when steel met bone and monsters poured through the gates of the other world.
Where Yelena ruled with empathy, Nadia ruled with composure. Her calm was something unnatural. It wasn’t the quiet of peace, it was the quiet of perfect control.
You could yell at her, insult her, even cry in front of her, and her face would remain unchanged. Her eyes would stay as steady as the moon, her lips unmoving, her tone perfectly level.
People often wondered if she could smile at all.
That same stillness made her terrifying in battle.
Even in the chaos of collapsing skies and burning cities, she would issue orders as if reciting lines from a grocery list—no hesitation, no emotion, just precise efficiency. And her sisters would follow without question, because when Nadia spoke, things survived.
But that was years ago.
Now she sat at the top of the Bureau of Interdimensional Trade, Travel, and Exchange—the most powerful post across both worlds.
She was the representative of humanity in dealings with the Other World—the one who negotiated pacts, enforced laws, and maintained the fragile peace. Every shipment of rare ore, every blessed crossing the boundaries of the veil, every political agreement between worlds passed through her hands.
She was diplomat, general, and arbiter in one body, a woman whose words could move armies or halt them.
Even the royalties of the Other World treated her with reverence. Because everyone, both human and otherwise, knew the truth: behind that tranquil gaze rested the mind of a killer. Nadia could annihilate nations if she wished. She had done so before.
To many, she was a goddess of order. To others, a silent executioner.
But to Mika, she was something else entirely.
She was the first person who had ever taken him to the Other World.
The one who had shown him its skies that shimmered with rivers of light, its cities that floated like islands in the clouds, its people who, despite their alien forms, laughed, worked, and loved like anyone else.
She had taught him that not all of them were monsters, that even those who had once invaded his world had families, stories, and fears of their own.
It was Nadia who’d sparked his fascination with that world, his curiosity, his empathy. The one who had shaped the way he saw everything beyond the veil.
And because of that, she was also the one responsible for countless of his reckless adventures.
He remembered all the times she had taken him along when Yelena had strictly forbidden it, their secret expeditions through deserts of violet sand, through forests that sang when the wind passed, through abandoned ruins of glass and gold.
She would guide him with a steady hand, her stoic face softening only when he laughed too loud or tripped over something foolish.
He could still picture it: Nadia standing before a glowing portal, pale hair shining in the light, her calm voice saying. "Watch closely, Mika. The world is always more beautiful than it seems."
The memory made a faint, unbidden smile touch his lips.
Yelena might have been his caretaker, the one who fussed, worried, and scolded, but Nadia had been his silent accomplice. His teacher. His protector. His door to wonder.
And even now, looking at her image on the screen, composed, radiant, unshakable, that fondness still stirred somewhere deep inside him.
The reason he tried to retreat earlier was because he didn’t want her to find out that he was staying at Yelena’s house. But now that he actually saw her a smile smile appeared on his face, as he was just glad he could see her face once again after so long.
But while Mika was lost in fond memories of the adventures they’d once shared, Yelena was very much not having a nostalgic moment.
Her mind was in full-blown panic.
The moment she had rushed into her room earlier, she’d done so to calm down, to cool her head, to clean herself up under in the bathroom, and to try to convince herself that what had just happened with Mika downstairs was "nothing."
She had even dabbed at her flushed face with a towel, muttering under her breath. "Get a grip, Yelena...you’re their mother. You’re the one they look up. You’re the responsible one."
Everything had been fine. Calm was returning. Until—
BEEP.
The massive wall-screen behind her desk flickered to life.
And there, appearing in high definition with that calm, terrifyingly serene face, was her sister, Nadia.
Yelena froze like she’d been caught committing a crime. Because she had completely forgotten about the meeting.
Nadia had scheduled a private conference with her to discuss something critical, trade negotiations or portal sanctions or whatever bureaucratic nightmare was supposed to happen that afternoon, and Yelena had, in her flustered state, completely missed it.
Now Nadia was on-screen, probably waiting for her to give a full briefing, while she herself was sitting there still half a mess under the desk!
So she’d done the only thing she could: fixed her hair, straightened her posture, and plastered on her most professional "nothing is wrong" expression. She’d managed to hold a perfectly normal, calm conversation for a solid few minutes. Everything had been going surprisingly smoothly.
Until he walked in.
Mika.
The moment Yelena saw him enter the room, her soul almost left her body. She gave him the kind of frantic hand signals you’d use to warn someone a dragon was sleeping behind them.
Get out. Go. Shoo. Retreat. Abort mission.
Why? Because Mika’s presence here was supposed to be a secret.
If any of her sisters found out he was staying with her and Charlotte, they’d drag him away to their own houses without a second thought. Especially Nadia. She was utterly unpredictable. Once she set her mind on something, she’d bulldoze through anything, reason, excuses, armies, to get it.
Yelena could already picture the inevitable outcome: Nadia would come to collect Mika like he was government property, and the sisters would end up fighting over him. She did not need that headache tonight.
Yelena needed to fix this. Fast.
So she did what any desperate person would do: she lied through her teeth.
"Calm down, Nadia!" She said quickly, raising her hands in a peace gesture. "There’s no need to get angry, alright? I know Mika startled you, and I know he tried to sneak off without greeting you, but it’s not what you think!"
Nadia blinked once, slowly. Her expression remained unchanged.
"I’m perfectly calm." She said flatly.
"Yes, yes, I know you say that, but deep down I can feel your anger!" Yelena insisted, forcing a nervous smile. "And I just want you to know there’s no reason to—uh, explode or anything!"
"Explode?" Nadia stared at her like she didn’t know what she was talking about, while Yelena continued in full panic mode.
"The reason he’s here is, uh, well..."
She searched for a believable excuse and then latched onto the first scapegoat she could find.
"It was Charlotte! Yes! Charlotte brought him here. You know how stubborn that girl can be. She dragged him over for dinner. And once we’re done eating, he’s leaving immediately. Right, Mika?"
She turned to him with a pleading expression.
’Please agree. Please.’
But Mika just stared at her, utterly unimpressed.
His face said it all: Really? That’s your excuse?
Even Nadia’s gaze shifted slightly, the faintest narrowing of her eyes.
Then she spoke, in that slow, even voice that made even warlords nervous:
"Yelena...what emotion do you think I’m feeling right now?"
The question hit her like a guillotine.
Yelena faltered. "Y-You’re...angry?" She tried, her voice weak. "You’re angry that Mika didn’t greet you properly and tried to run away, right?"
But to her surprise, it was Mika who replied for Nadia as he let out a loud scoff, crossing his arms with theatrical flourish.
"Angry? Are you serious right now, Yelena? Just look at her face." He pointed at the screen. "Does that look like the face of someone who’s angry to you?"
Yelena looked at Nadia’s perfectly neutral expression and wanted to scream, ’She looks the same no matter what she’s feeling!’
Mika, however, continued confidently. "She’s not angry. She’s happy. See that little curve at the corner of her lips? That’s a smile. She’s happy to see me."
Yelena stared. There was no smile.
"And her eyes!" Mika pointed. "So bright and alive right now. How could you miss that?"
Yelena turned back to the screen. Same neutral face. Same deadpan stare.
"Happy?" She squeaked. "Those eyes look like she’s about to execute someone!"
But to her utter horror, Nadia slowly nodded. "Exactly as Mika said. I’m not angry at all right now. In fact, I’m very happy."
Yelena’s jaw dropped, while Nadia continued in that same flat, glacial tone: "I’m so happy I’m practically dancing in my seat."
"See?" Mika grinned triumphantly. "Even she agrees with me. Honestly, Yelena, how do you not know your own sister’s emotions?"
"Indeed." Nadia gave the faintest nod. "After all these years, you can’t even read me. I’m starting to wonder if we’re truly related."
Yelena’s eyes went wide as Nadia nodded along with Mika’s teasing, their perfect tag-team leaving her completely defenseless.
"You two—YOU TWO!" She finally burst out unable to handle it anymore, pointing an accusing finger at the screen and at Mika. "I can’t believe you’re bullying me like this! This isn’t fair, this isn’t fair at all!"
Her voice cracked slightly as she waved her arms in frustration.
"What am I supposed to do when both of you are always on the same wavelength? What am I supposed to do when the only person in the entire world who can understand your damn emotions, Nadia, is Mika?!" She practically stomped in place, like a cornered kitten. "It’s not fair at all!"
And truthfully, she wasn’t exaggerating. Yelena really was the pitiful one here.
Because when it came to Mika and Nadia, there really was something the rest of them could never touch.
Nadia’s emotions were a mystery to everyone. Her face was an eternal mask, blank, poised, unchanging.
Whether she was happy, furious, grieving, or touched, she wore the same quiet, neutral expression. Even her lips seemed to resist movement, like smiling was an alien concept.
It had baffled the world for years.
Soldiers under her command could never tell whether she was satisfied or seething. Diplomats from the Other World left negotiations sweating bullets, wondering if she was pleased or plotting their extinction.
Even Yelena herself, her own sister, had no idea what went on in that beautiful, impenetrable head of hers.
And it wasn’t just her. No one could read Nadia. Not her closet aides, not any of the other Battle Angels who’d fought beside her—not even her own daughter.
But somehow, Mika could.
No one knew how he did it. Maybe it was intuition, maybe it was magic, or maybe it was just Mika being Mika, but he could read Nadia like an open book. One glance, and he’d know exactly what she felt.
And to Nadia, that meant everything.
Because for all her calm, she wasn’t a cold and heartless person. So, it hurt her deeply that no one seemed to understand what she was feeling. She thought she was being obvious—her version of joy, her version of sadness—but no one ever picked up on it.
No one, except Mika.
He always noticed.
The tiniest shift in her gaze, the faintest glimmer in her eyes, he’d see it. He’d respond to her emotions even before she realized she was showing them.
And because of that, Mika held a very special place in Nadia’s heart.
He wasn’t just some baby she’d taken under her wing years ago. He was her son, the one person she felt completely seen by. The one who never needed her to explain herself.
That bond between them was something no one, not even Yelena, could replicate.
And whenever the two of them were together, it was like they spoke in a secret language. Mika would say something vague, Nadia would respond with a single word, and somehow they’d both laugh, perfectly in sync, while everyone else just stared in confusion.
It was infuriating.
They were like partners in crime, calm, clever, and endlessly smug about it. It was them against the world.
And though Yelena couldn’t see it through the screen, right now Nadia truly was...happy.
If one looked close enough, really close, they might catch it: her posture ever so slightly relaxed, her crimson eyes gleaming with a faint warmth, her breathing just a touch shallower than usual. Her heart, usually so steady, was racing in quiet excitement.
All because she was looking at Mika again after so long.
And for someone like Nadia—that was the emotional equivalent of bursting into tears and hugging him.
But of course, none of that was visible to Yelena. All she saw was that same unreadable face, those same still eyes.
So while Mika stood there with his faint grin, and Nadia sat serenely on the screen, the only one spiraling into madness was Yelena, her hands in her hair, her voice cracking in disbelief as she shouted.
"I swear! It’s like you’re both conspiring against me! Even now she looks like a rock, and you’re telling me she’s happy?!"
"Exactly. She is happy. You finally get it." Mika just grinned wider.
"Precisely...I’m glad you’re finally getting to know me, Yelena, even though it feels strange to think that it so many years for it happen." Nadia nodded once, calm as ever.
Hearing this, Yelena finally threw up her hands in despair. "I give up! You’re both insufferable when you’re together!"
On the screen, Nadia’s lips twitched barely, a tiny almost-smile that only Mika caught. And that alone was enough to make his grin widen, while Yelena stood there, red-faced, realizing she was completely outmatched.
Once again, it was Mika and Nadia versus the world...and Yelena hated how natural it looked.