The twins were nothing alike, and everyone knew it.

Do Rae had already been suspended three times from Hwarang High — once for punching a vending machine that “ate her lunch money,” and twice for punching actual people. She ran like her mother, thought with her fists, and laughed in chaos.

Do Rin, on the other hand, was the kind of girl who memorized subway maps for fun. She avoided drama like it was contagious and could disassemble a smartphone blindfolded. Most of the school forgot she and Rae were twins. Which suited her just fine.

But tonight?

Tonight, everything would change.

The living room of the An household was loud — balloons, cake, and music that felt about ten decibels too high for the neighbors' comfort. Do Bong Soon, still impossibly beautiful and slightly chaotic, hovered with a tray of dumplings. An Min Hyeok worked the grill like he was competing on MasterChef: Dad Edition.

“You two are officially legal adults,” Bong Soon said, grinning wide. “Time to inherit your birthright.”

Rae raised an eyebrow. “A car?”

“A condo?” Rin added hopefully.

“Nope!” Bong Soon beamed. “Supernatural strength that could level a mountain.”

The room went dead quiet.

Rae blinked. “Wait… that wasn’t just a weird metaphor all these years?”

Min Hyeok cleared his throat. “Your mom comes from a long line of… gifted women.”

“You’re joking,” Rin said flatly.

Bong Soon’s eyes gleamed. “Why don’t you try ripping this frying pan in half and find out?”

Rae, never one to back down from a challenge, grabbed the pan. “Don’t blame me if I bend your precious cookware.”

She squeezed.

And with a snap, the thick steel folded like paper.

Rae dropped it. “WHAT THE ACTUAL—?!”

Rin’s jaw dropped. “Is it broken?!”

Bong Soon clapped her hands. “Congratulations, my strong little monsters! You’re officially part of the legacy!”

That night, long after the cake was gone and their parents were in bed, Rae and Rin stood on the rooftop.

“Do you feel different?” Rin asked.

Rae stared at her hands. “I feel… awake. Like there’s something inside me that finally stopped sleeping.”

Rin looked down at the quiet street. “Mom said we’d have to learn control. That if we don’t, people could get hurt.”

Rae cracked a grin. “So don’t piss me off during midterms.”

But Rin didn’t laugh.

Because something was moving in the alley below.

Two masked men. Dragging someone.

Rae noticed it too. Her smile vanished.

Without a word, the sisters exchanged a glance—and jumped into action.

CRASH.

One second later, a car alarm went off. A trash can exploded.

And Do Rae stood with a dazed thug dangling from her arm like a rag doll.

Do Rin, trembling but steady, clutched the unconscious victim and pulled them to safety.

The masked men scattered, terrified.

Rae looked at her sister. “So… should we call 911?”

Rin pulled out her phone.

“No,” she said, voice quiet but sharp. “We just became the people 911 calls when they can’t handle it.”