"That’s the first paranormal party I’ve ever been to," I said. "What kind of party games do you usually play?"

  "There are all kinds," Hana replied, "but since we all have different powers, we stick to games that anyone can play. Even then, they can still be fun."

  She returned a moment later with a handful of small golden marbles and set a huge plastic cup on the floor.

  "These are called Yakkaina Kintama," Hana explained as she handed one to each of us. "They’re special objects made by paranormals."

  "I’ve heard about these," Tatiana said. "Even normal humans can use them, right?"

  "Exactly," Hana nodded. "You just place one in the center of your open palm and focus. Let me show you."

  She held out her hand, the marble resting perfectly in the middle of her palm.

  "First, the time limit matters," she said. "It’s important how long you focus. I’ll use ten seconds."

  She closed her eyes.

  Ten seconds later, the golden marble twitched, then lifted itself from her palm as if an invisible string were pulling it upward. It floated in a perfectly straight line, turned sharply toward the plastic cup, and glided forward, still unnaturally precise. When it reached the cup, it descended just as cleanly and dropped inside with a soft clink.

  "That’s it," Hana said.

  "How did you do that?" I asked.

  "Just imagine the path and the speed you want," she explained. "You don’t use kinetic energy, only willpower and imagination. As Tati said, even normal people can do it. Easy to learn, hard to master."

  "Cool," I said. "So the goal is to imagine the shortest and fastest path?"

  "Not necessarily," she shook her head. "There are competitions, but they’re usually about creativity."

  "I’ve seen one where someone drew a self-portrait on the floor with their marble before sending it to the target," Tatiana added. "Sometimes it’s more like art than a game."

  "Exactly," Hana agreed. "And since some of us haven’t played before," she turned to me, "let’s just have fun. Not every game needs to be a competition."

  "Okay," Tatiana nodded, "but I still want something competitive later. I want a bit of thrill."

  "Don’t worry," Hana smiled. "We’ll get there."

  She then arranged us in a wide circle around the cup.

  "We’ll do this together," she announced. "When I say get ready, you’ll start focusing. You’ll have one minute. When I say go, you stop focusing and let the marble move. Try to imagine a creative path with the cup as the endpoint. It helps if you replay the path in your head a few times."

  We nodded.

  "Alright," Hana said. "Get ready."

  I focused, trying to imagine a path. Nothing fancy, just up, forward, and down into the cup. Simple. The same as what Hana did earlier.

  I managed to run through it once more in my head, trying to keep it consistent, but the minute passed faster than I expected.

  "Go!" Hana shouted.

  I let go.

  Every marble lifted from its owner’s palm at the same time, but each took a completely different route.

  Mine didn’t behave the way I imagined at all.

  It rose into the air, but the line wobbled instead of staying straight, and it moved more slowly than I’d planned. Aiming felt... slippery. It drifted toward the cup, then missed by almost a meter. And instead of gently descending, it dropped, hitting the carpet with enough force that it probably would’ve dented the floor if the rug hadn’t been there.

  At least I wasn’t alone.

  Most of the others had clumsy results too. Only three marbles made it into the cup: Hana’s, Taura’s, and Bambi’s.

  Hana’s followed a sequence of perfect geometric shapes. Taura’s moved in a smooth, wave-like pattern. Bambi’s traced something as if she were trying to draw a random hourglass-like shape into the air. But then I realized it wasn’t random at all; it was mimicking the perfect, artificial form of her goddess, Plastica.

  "Not bad for a first try," Hana said, glancing around.

  Then we went again.

  On my second attempt, I tried to be more ambitious. I imagined the marble spiraling in wide circles before dropping into the cup. When I released it, it still moved awkwardly, but it looked better. More intentional. Confidence is key, I guess.

  The others improved too with each try.

  The twins’ marbles orbited each other perfectly. Armstrong’s snapped through sharp, sudden direction changes, like a bullet being fired one after another. Elek managed to make his marble circle his astral body like a tiny golden moon while he floated around us. Tatiana used hers to nudge the snack bowl closer.

  Right then, Yoko returned from the shop, carrying more snacks and drinks.

  "Alright," Hana said after the fifth round, "let’s try something else."

  She set a box filled with small bottles on the table.

  "Oh, be careful with those," Yoko warned her as she refilled the snack bowls.

  "Don’t worry, Mom," Hana said calmly. "We’re just tasting them to see what they do."

  "A few rounds of Drink Roulette?" Stagora grinned and gave her a thumbs-up. "Good idea."

  "I actually know this game," I said. "What’s different about this version?"

  "The drinks," Hana replied. "They’re custom-made for different types of paranormals. For their intended users, they’re just casual beverages, but for others, even other paranormals, they can have some interesting or funny effects."

  "Can they be dangerous?" I asked. I could swear at least five of the bottles twitched, as if something inside them was alive.

  "Sometimes, but each bottle has a list of what type of people should avoid drinking them," Hana replied.

  "So, how are we gonna do it?" Flint asked.

  "Just reach into the box and randomly grab one of the many bottles. Then pour a little bit into one of these, and drink it," she instructed as she put some small shot glasses on the table. "But we will stop if we start to get too drunk. I want to remember this party tomorrow."

  "And how fast can they get you drunk?" I asked.

  "That’s hard to answer," Armstrong said.

  "Yeah," Taura nodded. "There are paranormal drinks that can get you drunk by drinking only one drop. Some won't get you drunk at all, and some can actually make you sober."

  "I like that," Tatiana grinned. "Makes it more exciting."

  "Who wants to start?" Hana asked.

  "I will," Tatiana volunteered immediately.

  She reached into the box without hesitation and pulled out a random bottle.

  It was small, about the size of one of those mini vodka bottles. The liquid inside was pink, and a tiny rose floated lazily in the middle.

  She poured a little into a shot glass.

  "Prosit," she said, and then downed it in one gulp.

  The effect was instant.

  Tatiana’s skin flushed pink, and her moving tattoos vanished. Then the upper layers of her skin peeled away, transforming into rose petals that spiraled around her in a sweet-smelling vortex.

  It was amusing until she suddenly bent over and vomited a beam of rose petals, like some kind of eco-friendly Godzilla. And apparently, it wasn’t just coming from her mouth, because petals started pouring out from the legs of her pants as well.

  "Are you okay?" Hana asked as Yoko calmly scooped the petals into a bowl.

  "Yeah," Tatiana nodded. A few petals were still stuck to her tongue.

  "You guys can try it too," Yoko said cheerfully. "I wouldn’t mind some extra material for my potpourri."

  We decided to pick something else.

  "I’ll go next," Taura said.

  Her bottle contained a thick, black liquid. As soon as she swallowed it, her shadow rippled and peeled itself off the floor, forming into a black cat sitting beside her.

  "Cooooool..." she said slowly. It definitely seemed to make her a little tipsy too.

  Flint went after her. His drink was green and gooey, almost like melted gummy candy.

  Once he swallowed it, his body became flexible. Not melting like wax, more like every single part of him suddenly had its own joint. He bent and twisted in ways that shouldn’t be possible. Even when he turned his body to stone, it stayed just as bendy.

  Stagora’s bottle had a small, colorful feather floating inside. The moment she drank it, tiny parrots appeared along her antlers, perching on her head and singing Macarena.

  Grill’s drink contained small bugs. When he finished it, his body split into a swarm of miniature Grills. The tiny copies used their wings to stay airborne, forming a loose humanoid shape. A few minutes later, they all rejoined into a single body.

  Tünde took a sip from a bottle with a salamander inside, while Titanilla drank a blue liquid with a shark tooth floating in it.

  Small bursts of fire shot from Tünde’s nostrils, while Titanilla’s fingers briefly turned into miniature sharks.

  Elek’s drink looked completely ordinary until his physical body started turning translucent. His skin, clothes, and muscles faded, leaving only his skeleton fully visible. With his astral form floating beside his half-invisible body, he looked like a skeleton warrior accompanied by his own ghost.

  Bambi drew one that made her head swell. It kept growing until it was larger than her torso. Her hair stretched all the way to the floor, while the top of her head nearly brushed the ceiling.

  Kelce’s skin and hair began cycling rapidly through bright colors after she drank a rainbow-hued liquid.

  Bozo’s head turned into a massive tomato after he drank something that tasted like regular tomato juice.

  Angéla pulled one of the larger bottles; this one had a snake inside. I think it was dead, though it might’ve blinked once. She poured only a tiny amount into a glass. After she swallowed it, a massive anaconda burst out of her mouth, stole a handful of chips from the snack bowl, then slid right back down her throat.

  "That giant snake went down suspiciously easily, cousin," Titanilla teased.

  Angyalka drank one too. Her eyes popped out of their sockets and began circling around their shared head on bat-like wings, flapping like two grotesque pets.

  Armstrong’s result was just as bizarre. After he swallowed his drink, his legs below the knees transformed into two Dalmatian dogs, his body attached directly to the middle of their backs. He struggled to keep balance as each dog tried to run in a different direction.

  Hana manifested a face on her head and picked a bottle as well. When she drank it, small hands emerged from her eye sockets, her eyes sitting in the center of each palm.

  "Come on, Max. Try it," she said.

  I was the last one left.

  The scene around me was absurd, funny, unsettling, and occasionally straight-up horrifying. But everyone was laughing. No one seemed scared or in pain. They were genuinely enjoying themselves.

  So I ignored my hesitation and grabbed the first bottle my hand touched.

  Hana handed me a shot glass. "Just an advice. Drink it in one gulp, and quickly. These usually taste awful."

  I took a deep breath, tipped the glass, and swallowed.

  The taste was vile. Like rotten toothpaste. It was so bad, I couldn't even pay attention to the effects it had on my body.

  "Oh, nice," Hana said, giving me a thumbs-up.

  I didn’t understand why until I looked down at my hands.

  Or rather, to where my hands used to be.

  Both of my hands had turned into living armadillos.

  They stared back at me with the same stunned expression I was probably wearing.

  I couldn’t feel them at all. It was like my hands had been injected with Novocain.

  "Cool," I said, examining the little creatures. "They’ll turn back, right?"

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  "Yeah, of course," Hana replied. "A few minutes at most."

  That helped. A lot.

  Half an hour later, everyone had returned to their normal selves.

  Using my armadillo hands had been strange but fun, although they kept stealing snacks instead of grabbing the ones I wanted. I guess that was their fee.

  Thankfully, they disappeared before I had to use the bathroom.

  "Alright, that was fun and all," Tatiana said, stretching, "but let’s do something more exciting. I want a thrill."

  "Fine," Hana gave in, rolling her eyes. "What about a fighting game?"

  That immediately got Tatiana’s attention.

  "Hey, Max," Hana turned to me, "can you help me bring out the next game?"

  "Sure," I nodded, following her upstairs.

  "Don’t worry, it’s not heavy," Hana said as we climbed. "It’s just big and awkward to carry alone, especially through doorways and down the stairs. Safer with two people."

  We entered a room that was unmistakably Hana’s bedroom. Her bed sat in the corner, surrounded by posters on the walls. They depicted paranormal martial artists, most of whom I didn’t recognize, except for Omnia and my mom.

  Scattered around the room were various strange objects whose purposes I couldn’t even begin to guess. Were they paranormal objects or just standard Japanese items? I couldn't decide because both cultures were unknown to me.

  "Let’s be honest," I said, adopting my best innocent tone, "you just wanted an excuse to lure me into your bedroom. Mom warned me about girls like you."

  "Very funny," Hana replied dryly. "Now help me carry this downstairs."

  The object she pointed at was a table, but with raised edges, forming a shallow wall around it. It reminded me of a foosball table, minus the rods and players.

  "What is this? Paranormal csocsó?" I asked.

  [Csocsó is Hungarian for foosball.]

  "You’ll see when we get it downstairs," she said.

  We grabbed opposite ends and lifted it.

  "Okay, start moving," Hana instructed as we approached the door.

  Getting it through was harder than expected. The table was wide, and we had to angle it carefully.

  "Careful, Max. Careful. No... slower," Hana said. "Damn it. Why won’t it fit? It’s not that big."

  "Hey, what’s going on up there?" Tünde asked from downstairs.

  "Max, listen to the lady," Titanilla added, giggling.

  "Maybe we should lube it," Hana said, thinking out loud.

  "Good idea," Tünde laughed. "You should always use it, no matter the size."

  I sighed. "What if we try the other end?" I said without thinking, pointing toward the window. Then I immediately remembered we were upstairs.

  A collective woo rose from downstairs.

  "Don’t even dream about it, Max," Titanilla laughed.

  "These people stole my mother’s sense of humor," I said, rolling my eyes. "They can keep it."

  "Relax," Hana shrugged. "They are just teasing because they like you. You’re one of us now."

  Eventually, after a final awkward shove, we squeezed the table through the doorway and carried it carefully down the stairs.

  "What is this?" Tatiana asked, leaning closer.

  "It’s a game called Sūpāsamurai Sensō Gēmu," Hana revealed. "My cousins and I used to play it at family gatherings while our parents were busy talking downstairs. The rules are simple: two players at a time. It can be played with more, but it's easier this way."

  "How does it work?" I asked. "I mean, the game itself."

  "Also simple." Hana opened a drawer built into the side of the table. Inside were dozens of tiny samurai figures. She took two and shut it again. "We fight using these."

  "Oh," Tatiana said, "like the marble game? But instead of paths, we imagine fight moves?"

  "Not exactly." Hana shook her head. "We upload them with our powers."

  To demonstrate, she pressed a finger against the center of one samurai’s back, where a small symbol was carved.

  "That’s enough," she said, pulling her hand away.

  The figure twitched.

  Its blank face smoothed over, then reshaped itself, hard features forming into the mask-like visage of a red oni. It drew its sword and snapped into a battle stance.

  "It can use your powers?" I looked at the figure, then at her. "That’s awesome!"

  "Yep," Hana nodded. "We charge them, and they fight with whatever abilities they inherit. Sword combat only. No injuries, no broken furniture. No angry Mom."

  "So we don’t have to control their movements?" Armstrong asked.

  "Not at all." Hana then turned to Tatiana. "Want to start?"

  "Sure, but who do I fight?"

  "Pick someone at random."

  Tatiana glanced around. "Stagora? You up for it?"

  "Yeah," Stagora nodded. "What do we do?"

  "Just touch the symbol on the figure’s back," Hana explained. "It absorbs your power automatically. By the way, the symbol is the Japanese character for power."

  Both girls did as instructed.

  Tatiana’s samurai shimmered as miniature versions of her moving tattoos spread across its armor and blade. Stagora’s figure grew antlers, and its sword twisted into a branching, bladed antler.

  Then the arena changed.

  A tiny Japanese village materialized around them, houses, streets, even paper lanterns.

  "Whoa," Stagora gasped. "Is that a hologram?"

  "An illusion," Hana corrected. "Intangible, but immersive. There are lots of settings."

  "Cool. Now, Hana, start us off, please," Tatiana said.

  "Alright." Hana nodded. "Ready, go!"

  The figures wasted no time.

  Tatiana’s samurai leapt high, wing-like tattoos flashing beneath its feet. Flame patterns spiraled along its sword, heat visibly warping the air.

  Stagora’s warrior rolled aside. Its branching blade writhed as it slashed. Tatiana’s samurai avoided the strike, but one of the moving branches caught one of its arms, severing its grip.

  The figure staggered, now forced to wield its sword one-handed.

  "Gotcha!" Stagora grinned.

  "Not so fast," Tatiana shot back.

  The flame tattoos on her samurai’s blade shifted, crystallizing into ice. The figure slammed its sword into the ground.

  Ice surged outward. Stagora’s warrior slipped, crashing onto its back as frost crawled over its limbs, just enough to pin it in place.

  "Gotcha," Tatiana sneered, her samurai raising its blade for the finishing blow.

  "Not so fast," Stagora replied calmly.

  Then I realized what she meant by that: the frozen figure’s hands and sword were completely hidden beneath the ice.

  The ground beneath Tatiana’s samurai exploded.

  Stagora’s antler-blade erupted upward from below, shattering both of the figure’s legs in one brutal strike. The samurai collapsed, motionless. The tattoos faded on its armor.

  "Fuck," Tatiana hissed.

  "Sorry about the figure," Stagora said, glancing at Hana.

  Hana shrugged. "They’re paranormal objects. Put them back in the mold, and they’ll fix themselves overnight."

  "How did you know what it was about to do?" I asked Stagora.

  "I could feel it," she replied. "Guess we were somewhat connected."

  "Alright. Who’s next?" Hana asked.

  Grill and Kelce stepped up.

  Grill’s samurai sprouted a pair of Kitchen Fairy wings, just like his own. Kelce’s warrior, meanwhile, grew a pair of horns reminiscent of hers.

  The fairy boy’s figure manifested cookie-shaped armor and a candy sword, but it barely had time to pose. Kelce’s samurai slashed the air, tearing open a rift. From it emerged a proportionally tiny version of the blonde T. rex nightmare monster, Terry.

  Terry's fangs ripped through the cookie armor as if it were made of paper, ending the fight quickly.

  Next up were Flint and Bozo.

  Flint’s samurai encased itself in heavy stone armor and wielded a granite sword. Bozo’s fighter, on the other hand, became a riot of color to match his clown aesthetic. Its blade stretched and twisted into a long, sword-shaped balloon.

  Flint’s warrior was slow and ponderous. Bozo’s was fast, teleporting in the same glittery flashes Bozo used himself.

  But speed wasn’t enough.

  Bozo’s samurai darted in again and again, slicing and bouncing away, yet Flint’s stone-clad figure barely budged. Once Bozo’s fighter started to slow, Flint’s samurai seized its chance and felled it with a single, crushing swing of its granite blade.

  Then came Armstrong and Elek.

  Armstrong’s samurai grew extra hands along its arms and torso. Elek’s gained an astral double hovering above it, as if its spirit had already risen while the body still stood.

  The physical and astral versions of Elek’s samurai attacked simultaneously, blades striking from opposite sides.

  Armstrong’s figure responded by sprouting more and more hands, forming a writhing sphere of palms around itself. The hands weren’t just armor; they moved in perfect coordination, allowing the samurai to roll across the arena.

  Elek’s astral form struck, but its spectral blade couldn’t cut deeply enough. Armstrong’s warrior kept adding layers of hands, growing denser and harder to breach.

  The astral samurai was fast, but its physical body wasn’t fast enough.

  Armstrong’s rolling mass crashed into it, flattening the miniature body. The astral form vanished instantly once the physical one was destroyed.

  Next were Bambi and Taura.

  Bambi’s samurai shone as gold flakes coated its armor, also forming a gleaming golden sword. Taura’s figure conjured a blade of flowing water.

  Taura struck first, slicing Bambi’s samurai cleanly in half from head to waist.

  But the fight wasn’t over.

  The gold lining Bambi’s fighter flowed, pulling the two halves back together.

  When the warriors clashed again, the gold suddenly shifted, peeling away from Bambi’s samurai and wrapping itself around Taura’s instead. Encased completely in gold, Taura’s figure began to levitate.

  It rose off the table, higher and higher, until it hit the ceiling.

  Then it fell.

  The golden meteor smashed into the arena, shaking the table and reducing the samurai to an unrecognizable pile of fragments.

  "Hey, Max. What about a round with me?" Hana asked.

  "Yeah. Why not?" I nodded.

  She placed a fresh pair of figures onto the table.

  I touched mine, but felt nothing unusual.

  Hana’s samurai, however, immediately manifested an Oni face. The scenery around the arena shifted into a wide green field, with a massive green dragon coiled lazily at the edge of the battlefield.

  "Ready... go!" Hana announced.

  Her samurai charged at mine in a frenzy. There was no finesse in its movements; it swung its sword like a true Oni, heavy and brutal, trying to bash my figure down with sheer force.

  "Unfortunately, they only inherit our powers, not our fighting styles," Hana explained. "So it’s hard to predict how these fights will turn out. By the way, it looks like the one using your abilities adapted faster than you did."

  She wasn’t wrong.

  My samurai dodged every strike using the same method I’d been learning over the past few days, overloading its limbs with kinetic energy to propel itself forward at incredible speed. The movements were short, sharp bursts; the Oni’s blade missed by inches each time, but that was enough.

  Honestly, this little guy was already better at using my powers than I was. Even at my best, I’d need a few tries to pull off moves like that, even in a serious battle.

  Once my figure had created enough distance, it drew its sword and began slicing the air. Each swing released a razor-sharp burst of raw kinetic energy. We couldn’t see the attacks themselves (kinetic energy was invisible), but the results were obvious. Slashes appeared on the ground, then pieces of the Oni’s armor began flying off, clattering across the miniature battlefield.

  One strike chipped several fingers off the Oni’s left hand, weakening its grip.

  "Nice," I cheered. "I wonder if this would work with fists too. I could literally throw punches like that."

  As I spoke, Hana’s samurai’s face shifted again, morphing into an elderly human visage: the Turbo Granny mode.

  The raw power dropped, but the speed skyrocketed. It was now fast enough to match mine.

  "Finally," Hana sighed. "I thought this idiot would keep using the same Oni powers and expect different results."

  Her samurai began running along the arena walls, bouncing from corner to corner, gathering momentum with every impact. After a while, it was ricocheting so fast it became difficult to track.

  Meanwhile, my samurai stood perfectly still in the center of the arena, sword sheathed once again. It looked calm, almost meditative.

  When Hana’s figure reached its maximum speed, it launched its attack.

  The impact was enormous.

  We felt the wind from it rush past our faces, strong enough to make Hana’s hair flutter. When the dust settled, both the arms and the sword of Hana’s samurai were shattered from the collision.

  But that was all.

  My samurai stood untouched. Not even a scratch.

  Hana’s figure seemed to stare at mine in disbelief. I mirrored the expression.

  Then it dropped to its knees.

  My samurai calmly drew its blade, stepped beside the kneeling opponent, and decapitated it in a single, clean slice.

  "Wow," I said. "That was... unexpected."

  "Looks like yours built a dense kinetic energy field around itself while mine was busy running around," Hana analyzed the situation. "That’s why long, flashy attacks are a double-edged sword. You get a powerful strike, but you also give your opponent plenty of time to prepare for it."

  "It was fun," I admitted, "but it’s kind of embarrassing that a figurine understands my abilities better than I do."

  "That’s just because you’re a beginner," Hana replied with a small smile. "Look at it this way, this fight showed you how much potential you actually have."

  "Okay, that sounds a bit better now, thanks."

  "Alright, now only you guys are left," Hana said, looking at the two pairs of conjoined twins.

  "So how do you want to do it, Tit?" Tünde asked. "Play against each other, or against our cousins?"

  "Don’t call me Tit," Titanilla snapped. "And I think we’d have more fun beating our cousins."

  "Hey, that’s not very nice," Angéla said. "We’re family, remember?"

  "You should tell that to your mother," Tünde replied. "She clearly doesn’t like our mother, or us."

  "Because we’re so sinful," Titanilla added dryly. "Free will tends to be frowned upon, I guess."

  "She has different values," Angéla said carefully, "but she still loves all of you."

  "Yeah, so stop being such drama queens, you conjoined cunts," Angyalka chimed in from behind them.

  "Girls, calm down!" Hana stepped in. "And don’t call each other conjoined cunts."

  "Hey! That’s our word," Angyalka protested, half-joking. "You can’t use it."

  "Channel that energy into the fight," Hana continued. "But only one person per figurine. They can only hold one power at a time, and they don’t recognize teams. There’s a real chance they’d attack their supposed ally first. For them, it’s a battle royale."

  "We only need your arena," Tünde said confidently. "We can make our own puppets that use both our powers."

  "Fine," Hana warned, "but keep the fight inside the arena."

  "Deal," Titanilla said. Angéla nodded reluctantly.

  "Ooooh, let’s make it more exciting," Tünde grinned. "Let’s bet."

  "Yeah," Titanilla agreed. "Truth or dare. The losers can choose, but must obey."

  "I don’t think..." Angéla began.

  "Deal," Angyalka interrupted cheerfully. "Start thinking about your punishment."

  "Challenge accepted!" the twins said in perfect unison.

  "I literally did not agree to this at all," Angéla protested.

  "It’s three against one," Angyalka shrugged. "Democracy."

  "Enough talking," Hana said. "Take your positions."

  "Alright, Tit, let's stick to the theme and make a samurai," Tünde said.

  "Together," Titanilla agreed.

  Light and darkness swirled between them, merging into a black-and-white sphere before condensing into a small samurai. It wore split-colored armor and wielded two swords, one forged from pure light, the other from shadow.

  "You dragged us into this, Angyalka," Angéla hissed. "So you’d better get us out."

  She focused.

  With a puff of green smoke, a small goblin appeared on the table, roughly the same size as the samurai.

  "I see you inherited your mother and aunt’s Tulpa summoning abilities," I said, trying to sound knowledgeable.

  "Yes," Angéla nodded. "But we use them differently."

  "I love mythology and folklore," she continued. "My Tulpas aren’t limited to Biblical creatures."

  "And I love weapons," Angyalka added. "She makes the monsters, and I arm them."

  An ornate crossbow materialized in the goblin’s hands.

  "Hey," Angyalka talked to me, "does that look familiar?"

  "Yeah," I nodded. "It does."

  "That's the repeater crossbow from that Van Helsing movie." She revealed.

  "Nice," I whistled. "Can you make me an Omnitrix?"

  "Flirt later," Tünde snapped. "We’ve got a fight to win."

  "Don’t get cocky, cousin," Angéla replied coolly.

  "Everyone ready?" Hana asked.

  They nodded.

  The arena scenery shifted into a field of blooming cherry trees, petals drifting gently through the air.

  "Begin!"

  The goblin acted first, firing a rapid volley of bolts, but the samurai deflected each one effortlessly with its twin blades.

  "Are you even trying?" Tünde smirked.

  The samurai surged forward, leaving streaks of light and darkness behind.

  The goblin’s crossbow dissolved and reshaped into a mirrored shield.

  "That’s the Looking Glass Knight’s shield from Dark Souls II," Grill gasped. "This Tulpa stuff is insane."

  The samurai struck, but the shield deflected the blow.

  "Try a different approach," Tünde said.

  Black-and-white wings erupted from the samurai’s back, and it soared upward.

  The mirrored shield liquefied and wrapped around the goblin, reforming into a clumsy but recognizable Iron Man-style suit.

  The goblin blasted into the air to meet the enemy.

  Their clash sent a noticeable shockwave across the air.

  "Oh, shit," Angyalka swore as their goblin began to fall, parts of its armor shattered, lights flickering.

  "Hah! Finish off that Iron Deficiency Man!" Tünde crowed.

  The samurai dove after the falling goblin, blades poised.

  "Angyalka, I swear..." Angéla began.

  "Fell for the bait," Angyalka grinned.

  The armor’s lights flared back to life. The goblin slowed mid-fall, shot upward slightly, and grabbed the samurai’s leg.

  They spun wildly toward the arena floor, becoming a blur. Then the goblin drove the samurai into the ground with perfect timing, shattering it into fragments of light and darkness.

  "Fuck!" the twins screamed together.

  Tünde even tried to flip the table, but Hana caught her wrist instantly.

  Angéla turned around, so Angyalka could face the twins.

  "So, how was it? The losers must obey?" She asked smugly.

  "Just tell us what you want before a vein bursts in Tündi's head," Titanilla said as Tünde's face went red from anger.

  "Do you have any ideas for this truth or dare?" Angéla asked.

  "Yes, I have," Angyalak grinned. "So, what do you choose? Truth or dare?"

  "Tell us the options," Tünde said finally. Her face was still a few shades redder than Titanilla's.

  "The truth would be you two telling us how many sex partners you had so far." Angyalka started. "Names included."

  "Fuck no." Tünde shook her head.

  "Yeah, the last thing we need is you to blackmail us with that information," Titanilla added.

  "Fine, then flash your tits for us as the dare," Angyalka continued.

  "Okay," the twins nodded.

  They didn’t hesitate. Their fingers hooked beneath the hem of their custom-made, shared crop top, and in one synchronized move, they yanked the fabric up to their collarbones. The room went silent for half a second, long enough for the twins’ smug expressions to flicker, before the uproar hit. Stagora wolf-whistled through her fingers. Bozo’s head darkened into a shade of red as if it were still a tomato.

  Yes, I was gawking as well. I'm a man after all.

  But what truly captured every eye in the room wasn't just their beauty; it was how they were conjoined even there. Not only at the side of their torsos, but also by one spectacular shared pair of breasts.

  Where each twin possessed one normal breast (Tünde on the left, Titanilla on the right), the inner pair had fused into a mesmerizing double bosom; they had their own nipples, but their areolae were slightly fused, kinda like an infinity symbol.

  I have no idea how much time had passed before they covered themselves again, with the smuggest grins I've ever seen on a human, but my eyes felt totally dry. I guess I forgot to blink.

  "Well... I didn't expect this." Angyalka said.

  "That's not the first time we've done it at a party," Tünde explained. "But at least this one was done by both of us together."

  "I told you, it was an accident." Titanilla said angrily, "I had to sneeze because of your stupid perfume, and people were still paranoid because of Covid, so I had to hide that sneeze with our shirt."

  "Now that you guys settled this, let's continue the party." Hana said, "No more family feud."

  "Yeah, don't tempt us. My heterosexuality is already fragile," Tatiana said, half-jokingly.

  This was followed by an awkward silence.

  "Alright, I still have a bunch of samurai figures. Who wants to play again?" Hana offered.