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Multiple Settings Infinite Verse Arc One - The Town of the Blissful Doomed

Characters
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He had stepped back as he heard a voice behind him saying they would handle the rest. Only nodding as he let the pole arm vanish before stepping back. What happened next was confusing. A strong wind that carried the scent of charred flowers. One that brought more unease than comfort to the blind man. Almost like a foreboding warning. It didn't seem like there were actually burning flowers. This wind wasn't normal. It seemed like it was being created by the person who had spoken to him earlier. The flow wasn't moving around her, like it did for most. No, it was coming from her, herself. That was further confirmed as he could hear her chanting.

His mild concern and bewilderment would soon shift into a sense of fear. Ignite...it all happened before he could even process. The area in front of him was burning. It was hot. And it was big. A powerful force of nature that enjoys destroying everything in its very fight. And a mage who could summon mass destruction in a heart-beat. "Fire..." He mumbled, stepping back as his hands shot to cover his ears. Memories should not have sound, yet why can't he ever hear anything over the screams from decades ago? He gritted his teeth. He needed to relax. With his ears still covered, he scanned the area. This magic fire had strange energy that normal flames didn't so he could track it better than just relying on changes in temperature. Avoid the fire, follow his companions. Simple right? No.

His hearing was disturbed thanks to the flames, even if they had been quelled by a layer of ice, the damage has been done. His attempts to follow led to him bumping into things constantly. Walls, people, items. Maybe even tripping himself up a few times. How annoying. But the worst to come when he had to find the hole...it was a bit harder to tell the elevation of people through energy alone. Espically if it wasn't a significant change.

Attempt 1 to follow ended with him walking full height into the wall. Fully expecting a hallway to be there as the others seemed to keep walking.

Attempt 2 was to crouch a bit, but not far enough. The top of his heat hitting against the top of the hole. "How insufferable..." Just how small was this damn hole!?

Third times a charm really was the golden rule. Finally getting low enough to follow the others through the hole. No one behind him better bring this back up.

Once he felt the fresh air of outside, only then did he seem to relax. Letting his hands drop as he rubbed at the sore spot on his head. Simply following after the person directly in front of him. Not even knowing who it was. Though there was the sound of sirens and not so happy voices off in the distance. But he didn't really mind it. It was all far behind him. So he wasn't worried about any followers or getting caught.

Once inside, Jingyi found someplace to let himself sit. Making himself comfortable on the couch. Feeling the soft thumping of the small animal he assumed was mister bubblipuppi. He shall call him bubble-puppy "What a lovely home, savior." He says, like he can actually see the decoration of the house. But it did smell very nice. So he assumed it looked as nice as it smelled. "My condolences for the loss of your parents, savior..." The loss of parents is always very heartbreaking...unless they were terrible parents. "I would love some tea as well, though." Yes. he was exhuasted. "Tea would be relaxing. Thank you as well, madem of fire." It seemed she would be assiting with food. He wondered what food was like in this world.








Blind Wanderer



Jingyi.













♡coded by uxie♡
 
The arrival at Kyle's residence gave Hystaria the feeling of a weight being lifted off her back, like the arrival of a traveling party reaching safe haven after a hard day's march. Though one would be quite hard-pressed to feel perfectly safe in the middle of a town full of people who were about to sacrifice them, even if they were surrounded by increasingly tall fences. Hystaria would love to learn more about the circumstances that led Kyle, an orphan, to live (almost) alone in a fenced compound after the passing of his parents, but then something more familiar presented itself, resembling several members of the Clawfolk that Hystaria had met on her trips into Penumbra's forests.

"Ser Bubblibuppi." Hystaria gave the creature a sideways nod. "Your craftsmanship is estimable. I, Hystaria Oogumo Euleria Vectis Montin Silber Grandine Elvetie Nephthys Solis, offer you my thanks. And Kyle, you have done more than enough for us. But I will ask that you hold just a little water for me. While the rest of this band avails themselves of your hospitality..." Not finishing her thought, Hystaria slipped out of the house.

The fences that Kyle had painstakingly erected would give any mundane bull or goat pause, but they were no hindrance to Ser Bubblibuppi. And neither were they to Hystaria. She jogged forward slightly on her spindly legs, then leapt. Her six limbs effortlessly gripped the wooden surface and skittered upwards, reaching the top of the first fence. Easily, she hopped towards the next, and the one after, until she was perched on the outer rim, with a vantage point over the town of the blissful doomed, as one might call it.

She took a moment to breathe in, taking in the air that was subtly tainted with smoke as torches, sconces, and bonfires lit in the town below, casting many corners and alleys in light that would make it increasingly harder to slip through unseen.

She touched her lip with a fingertip, closing her eyes and muttering a quiet prayer to Ilias.

If her light touched her faithful follower, even in this world...

Hystaria's next exhalation sprung to life, glowing gold as it consolidated into a tiny orb with wings reminiscent of a firefly's. That was as much as she would probably get without further concentration, but it'd do. With a wave of Hystaria's finger, the spirit swished forward, darting across the night sky as it reconnoitred the surroundings, in particular trying to discern the plans of the inhabitants of the town, and more importantly the members of the church. Were they carrying out an organized hunt, busting down doors and hauling out whoever was within? Were they milling about, panicking? That would influence their next plan. Two structures in particular stood out: A large building to the northeast, fortified by its solid construction but not especially secure in terms of alertness, with a gate that was easy to open but by which entry would be conspicuous. A library, or functional building of some other sort.

The other to the west: a house of noticeably larger scale than the ones surrounding it, and more broadly most other buildings in the city. Likely the residence of a mayor or governor or whoever called the shots around here. She didn't notice any religious symbols on it, not like the ones in the church at least. That highlighted the fact that it was a private residence. Now, if Hystaria had the orders of Ilias by her side, she would definitely head straight there to sort out the matter of how the sacrifice of Folk could possibly be allowed within their walls. As it were, however, she would feel inclined to give both these buildings a wide berth and look for an exit elsewhere. While it was unlikely that the escapees would approach the two big buildings (and the townsfolk surely knew that), it was statistically likely that the townsfolk would end up concentrated on those locations during their hunt anyway, given their physical prominence.

With that, Hystaria hopped back across the fences, heading back into the house.

"Kyle, if you please, a few questions." Both pairs of her arms crossed. "Do you recall if there is anyone who ever escaped the sacrifice before this? How effective would you say the efforts of the churchfolk were in retrieving them? If we are caught again, are they willing to...sacrifice us on the spot? And...who lives in the house to the west? Are they here in town tonight?"

She raised her head slightly, addressing the group as a whole. "I propose splitting into smaller groups that we may avoid notice, or even blending into the crowd as disposition permits as we search for a way out. That will fulfill our goal to 'escape the town', likely. If however, any of you choose to 'save the town', despite my better judgement...I will follow. I believe whoever leads this town will have many answers for us to this end."

SilverBlack SilverBlack
 
Angela
&
Tod
Tags:
Kyu Dovinique Dovinique , Kyle + Mr. Bubblibuppi SilverBlack SilverBlack , Hystaria Nellancholy Nellancholy
Location:
Kyle's House

Focused entirely on the task of escaping the church through the tunnel, Angela took no further note of the emotional states or troubles of those following closely behind her. In her haste, the old chest sitting inconspicuously in the corner of the room completely escaped her attention, though she’d later find out that it had managed to catch the eye of one of her temporary companions. A small light on her headband flashed a bright blue, as if the artificial intelligence hosted within wished to alert her of the actions of Chen Yifeng, but he ultimately chose silence.

Not too long into their foray into the tunnel dug out by Kyle’s trusty partner, the group of would-be sacrifices found themselves led through a narrow alleyway and finally to the young man’s humble abode where they’d meet the groundhog who’d saved them.

“Oh, so this is Bubbly Puppy,”
Angela remarked with a laugh filled with a mirth perhaps unbefitting of a fugitive. As the groundhog settled into his spot on the couch, the purple-haired woman gently took his paws into her hands while closely watching for his reaction. Careful to avoid his claws, she shook his little paws in a small up and down motion and breathed out a soft
“thank you”
. Her heart squeezed.

A bright blue screen suddenly appeared in front of her face, blocking her vision with the message
“Mr. Bubblibuppi ◔_◔”
. Tod, ever the rude AI, decided that now was the time to interrupt her little moment with yet another one of his corrections.

“Why thank you for the unsolicited advice,”
Angela replied tersely, immediately releasing her hold on Mr. Bubblibuppi’s paws. In response, the letters on the screen faded away, replaced by nothing more than a 👍.

That cheeky little bear. Once she found the time, she was deleting his emote packs from his system.

Fortunately for the metal polar bear, his administrator pushed that task to the side in favor of helping their host. More specifically, she jumped at the mention of cooking. She wasn’t sure why Kyle and Mr. B (as she decided to dub him) had gone out of their way to help complete strangers, but she wasn’t one to leave favors unpaid. The least she could do was help Kyu in the kitchen, even if she wasn’t entirely comfortable with accompanying a dragon lady who’d been stewing in anger just minutes prior.

“I can help too, if you don’t mind us borrowing your kitchen,”
Angela said with a nod. Though she couldn’t boast about her cooking prowess like Kyu had, she was sure a helping hand would be appreciated considering the size of their group. As long as the ingredients of this world were similar to those of her homeland, she could manage.

“Of course, that’s also if you don’t mind the help, Kyu,”
the purple-haired woman added while studying the dragon’s reaction. Surely, this didn’t count as stepping on any toes in her culture, right?

As Angela waited for Kyu’s answer, Hysteria would return from her brief scouting mission with a deluge of questions for their benefactor. Then came her suggestion to the others in the group.

“Hmm,”
Angela hummed as she brought up the mission details and gave it another quick skim.
“I’d say it’d be difficult for some of us to blend in, even if we manage to procure clothes matching the locals. If anything, some of us would have to stay behind and lay low. As for escaping the town or saving it, the mission details don’t quite specify whether it’s ‘and’ or ‘or’. It’s safest to assume that whoever sent us here wants us to complete both objectives and not just one.”


Suddenly, Angela’s eyes widened a fraction, and she whipped her head towards Kyle.
“Wait, huh? Are we allowed to discuss all of this in front of a non-participant in this mission?”
While the rules didn’t explicitly discourage them from sharing their identities and purpose, the wording of the mission details seemed to suggest that the System preferred that the townspeople remain oblivious of the fact that they weren’t the original sacrifices. They wouldn’t be smited for speaking so openly about the mission in front of Kyle, right?
Code by Nano
 
[ tags: Angela Nano Nano , Kyle SilverBlack SilverBlack ]

It’s with a sense of finality that Morgan emerges from the tunnel, returning to daylight to be greeted by the sight of towering fences and expanses of verdant blooms in place of the urban sprawl he’d spent his entire life accompanying.
“Your home is beautiful,”
he murmurs, fighting and losing to the urge to trail his fingers through the flowers growing along the edge of the path. Seeing so many blooming in front of such a large, isolated house really makes him muse, tone just as wonderous as before.
“Though, does it not trigger anyone’s allergies?”
Of course, the blessing the townspeople receive in return may be more than enough to soothe such a slight issue, but even so, a few sneezes seem like a small price to pay for a lawn like this.

Stepping through the door and following behind their guide to arrive in a crowded living room, Morgan glances around at the scattered array waiting on the floor, sitting on the couch, and standing around the room, before he settles into an empty place, slotting into one of the chairs by the dining table. Beginning the process of unwinding in the soothing domesticity of Kyle and Bubblibuppi’s home, he pauses upon hearing Kyu’s boast and Angela’s accompanying offer, briefly struck by the urge to pitch into dinnertime preparations until realization strikes. Given the size of the room they’re in, the kitchen seems like it’d be crowded at best and a disaster at worst if they tried to fit three people.

Thus, with his plans foiled, Morgan’s gaze shifts, landing on the jug of water in Kyu’s hand instead.
“If we need more drinking water, I could fetch some from the kitchen?”
he offers. Then, he pauses, brows briefly scrunching in mild uncertainty.
“Or from wherever you get your water from,”
he amends.
“I don’t mind a quick trip outside if that’s where your tap is.”


Still, talk of strategy is more important than the origin of their drinking water, so Morgan pauses in his assessment and turns his thoughts to tomorrow, only to pause at Angela’s last question. After one moment spent waiting with bated breath turned into another, he wearily concludes,
“I think we’re fine.”
In an attempt to protect Angela from any later penalties, he tries to mask the peculiarity within their conversation by providing a more reasonable interpretation of her words than the idea of some cosmic game show.
“After all, Kyle’s on our side. I doubt he’s one of our enemies who we wouldn’t want knowing about our mission.”


“Besides, I believe one of his friends has a hiding spot that may help with laying low,”
Morgan continues, attempting to nudge the conversation back to where it began. He shifts in his seat to glance back at Kyle, both an assessment of how well his words have done at convincing the other and a check that his memory is correct.
“So, if we do need to investigate, we’ll be able to find a little time to do so while they search the houses.”


His eyes flicker towards the space where his inventory once appeared, and Morgan adds wryly,
“I’m not half bad with books if we want to investigate where the sacrificing tradition starts from. Of course, I’m not sure how accurate their written history will be but… all religions have some sort of book of theology, no?”
 
There is something about the way these outsiders filled up his little cozy house that warmed the male’s heart. It’s been years since he’d had anyone else in the house other than himself, much less spent it with people other than his family. Kyle has isolated himself for years - and perhaps because the rest of the townspeople have the faintest sentiment that he is not exactly the “same,” they chose to peacefully distance themselves from him. That may have indeed worked in Kyle’s favor, for someone who doesn't like conflict.

Well, if only the townspeople knew that this lad would eventually do something as crazy as tonight as helping to break the ritual. Maybe then they would have chosen to confront him directly much early on.

Mister Bubblipuppi stood on its two furry short legs proudly on the couch, haughtily acknowledging each gratitude that came its way from these outsiders. Ha, humans could go nowhere without him, thought the little creature. When one of the guests took its little paws into her hands - its big round eyes stared curiously back at the girl. What is this hand-shaking motion? Why do humans do this? Does it work like a head-pet? Does that mean he’ll be rewarded for what he did today? Wait shouldn’t he anyway, digging that stuff was hard work.Wait, does that mean there’ll be fancy treats for him later? And with those thoughts, he squeaked excitedly at Kyle, quickly making his way onto the dining table himself.

Unfortunately, the male was distracted at the moment as the fair madam with the power of fire and wind–or, as he’d later learned to be Kyu–took the jug of water from his hands. The way she softly voiced her offer to help, trailed by the word “dear” at the end echoed in his ears. Dear? Dear! She called him dear. What is this heat that’s rising onto his cheeks? He would not deny that the way she had flamboyantly thrown off the guards earlier with her powers had captivated him. And now…She’s offering to cook in his kitchen!

Mister Bubblipuppi looked on with disgust. His human had spent too long in solitude that he’s trapped so easily by a puny woman. She is pretty, maybe has some fancy skills, but can she dig?

Anyways.

“The k-k-kitchen’s sure would like to work with you!” Kyle stuttered his response towards the girl, then realized how silly his sentence must have sounded. Regaining his composure with a clearing of his throat, he awkwardly scratched the back of his head. “Ah, if you’re willing to help, that’d be great! If you open the cabinet door, you’d see all kinds of tea – including a wide range of herbal teas in there. Please feel free to choose whichever you like for everyone.” He then turned to Angela, who also offered to help. With a wide grin, he nodded, accepting their offer to assist and happily inviting the two girls to do whatever they want with his kitchen. “The fridge doesn’t have much, just some chicken and eggs, and some carrots and veggies. There’s also potatoes in the corner, if any would like. Either way, I think we have enough for everyone.” He said as he eyed through the crowd to confirm his thoughts.

The kitchen is right across from the dining table, such that if the door remains open, conversations that continue to flow at ease between them without any blockage. Kyle himself went in to help the girls occasionally, and brought out several cups of tea, handing them out for those who previously asked for them.

“The drinking water’s from the kitchen, yes, feel free to fetch more anytime,” turning his attention to Morgan, he answered cheerfully. “That’s a good question you have about allergies. I did pay special attention to what I grow indoors…These are all herbal plants that have fewer records of causing allergic reactions to others. Although, just because it’s fewer doesn’t mean it’s none. Let me know if it’s making you guys uncomfortable,” he chuckled with slight embarrassment.

“Ahaha, no need to call me a savior. But the home…Thank you,” he answered the compliments that both Morgan and the blind gentleman, Jingyi, had given when entering the house. His features softened at the mention of his parents. “They all loved herbs, and love studying the medical properties behind all these. So that’s what I’m trying to carry on as well…”

There was a moment of silence that followed, then Kyle’s expression hardened.

“Though, now my reasons for studying herbal medicine have grown a lot beyond that.”

Before he could continue, however, Hystaria returned. He’d wondered where she had gone off to just now, so quickly and without much of any further words. For a moment he was worried, then realized that this group of unique outsiders were much more…different than he thought. Her questions further redirected his focus quickly, as Kyle’s brows furrowed at her words. “Escaped?” He repeated, his tone solemn as he tried to think. “From the two rituals that had happened in the past…No, I do not know if any escaped. Even the last one…” His frown deepened into a scowl at the painful memories that suddenly washed back at him, the sight of those seven outsiders tied and slain in front of his eyes, their blood pouring onto the ground.

He pulled out a chair and sat down himself, crossing his arms together. “From what I heard, it’s very hard to escape the ritual. This is what I’d gathered from the town, but rumor has it that the moment outsiders entered Persico, they weakened immediately. ‘There’s a sweet scent in the air,’ they’d say, with a smile, as if taking a liking to it. We, as villagers, never really know what scent they’re describing. But apparently, the longer in town they stay, the longer they’d feel as if both their physical strength and mentality fades away. Then before they know it, they’re already being locked away at the church, ready to be sacrificed.” A mocking laugh escaped from him. “It’s almost as if..The second they settle into this town, fate would forcefully push them onto such cruel fates.”

He then looked up toward the crowd, humming curiously. “But I guess the rumor’s wrong? You guys don’t seem to be the least affected.”

At that moment, the blue pop-up screen would once again appear in front of the outsiders:

System Announcement:

Congratulations, the Persico Scent Effect has already been automatically nullified for you.

“However, just because I say no one has escaped in my knowledge, doesn’t mean nobody has escaped, though! Maybe there might just be one, who knows? I apologize for not being able to answer the rest of your questions.” Without knowledge of the screens, Kyle proceeded on, deciding to end this topic on an optimistic note. “Ah, but if you’re asking about the house located farther west, that’s the Town Chief’s house! He’s a cool old man. Doesn’t talk a lot - but really nice, to all the townspeople at least. He’s probably over at the church tonight, you know, figuring out what’s going on with all the commotions…we caused.”

As the group of outsiders quickly engaged in their conversations about the System’s assigned missions, it would appear as if certain words were automatically filtered out of the male’s head. As if the words “mission” or “non-participant” had never appeared—Kyle only blinked, his comprehension of their discussion turned into a rather simple one.

“Wait…I’d definitely understand you guys’ desires to escape the town…But to save the town as well?” The male’s eyes widened in surprise, cutting into their conversations as if he’d never expected such kindness and sense of justice to come from them. “My goodness…Has Goddess Carita finally answered my prayers?” There were a couple moments where the lad looked lost in thoughts, as if in disbelief, and trying to sort things out in his head.

“Ah, but that’d be so dangerous - since you guys are outsiders yourselves…But again, you guys don’t seem to be affected by the scents…and are awfully stronger than…ahem..me…But…a miracle, perhaps…? People who’d come forth, saying they would ‘save the town’...” He muttered, looking down at himself. “It’s the first time…First time I’d heard such words.”

Emotions seemed to overwhelm him all at once, and by the time he looked up, hints of tears had already clouded his eyes. “I know this is selfish for me to ask of you, but if you guys can do anything…during your escape…to also find a way to save this town, so that people would also realize this ritual’s not needed, then it’d be greatly appreciated! Please!” His voice trembled slightly with both excitement and desperation, and he jumped up from his seat, looking directly at Morgan. “You said a book of theology, right? I have one. Give me a moment.”

With those words, he’d quickly retrieve a book from his room, and placed it at the center of the table. The book wasn’t too thick - the lack of any dust and the old pages hinted that the male read it quite frequently. On the cover of the dark blue book is a fairly simple title—Theology: The Persico Faith.

“Students are given this book in school to read once they’re old enough to attend. Because of that, the way it's written is pretty easy to follow too. The school—it’s right there on the northeast side from my house. Remember when I said I have a friend who has a hiding place to provide for ya guys down the road, like you mentioned?” Looking toward Morgan, he acknowledged his previous words. “She’s a student there too. I’d bring you guys there tomorrow to find her. She calls herself…” he paused momentarily, then a chuckle left his lips, recalling certain fond memories. “Maybe it’s better if she introduces herself to you guys. But purple hair. Has an eyepatch. Pretty distinct.”

“Anyways…” Resuming to a serious tone, he looked up from the book and settled his gaze at the outsiders around the dining table. “If you guys don’t mind, allow me to give you a brief story about this town.”

“Town of Persico…We believe in only one Goddess. Goddess Carita - she who brought forth both fortune and doom. Hundreds of years ago, it was Her who blessed the starving and the diseased with this beautiful town, where no illness or hunger would ever fall upon this eternally prosperous land. The townspeople thus responded with utmost gratitude, swore to worship the Goddess forever. The Church was built, with a statue of the Goddess. It is said that for Goddess Carita to live on and provide them with her strength, she would need the powers of people’s faith and loyalty. However…” A moment of silence, as Kyle looked for the correct words. “When a group of outsiders discovered this town, they were fed with greed and jealousy…Though the townspeople welcomed them warmly, they returned their hospitality by breaking the statue, attempting to discover what sorcery hides inside that could grant the Town with such prosperity.”

Kyle let out a sigh. “According to what the book said…and what we’d learned growing up. This angered Goddess Carita, throwing her in sadness and despair. It weakened her drastically too. So…The ritual began. It is said that by sacrificing seven outsiders to the Goddess, she’d be able to feed on their strength and continue to bless this town. Without the ritual, the town would soon be shrouded in a terrible, terrible sickness…Where no one could live.”

“I, however, have my doubts about this,” after giving an overview of the town’s religious belief, the male shook his head. “I was equally furious at the Outsiders who once came and disrespected our Goddess, but Goddess Carita…We were taught that no evil exists within her heart, and she is a representation of Kindness, and Kindness alone. She is a Goddess who forgives all sins. It seems contradictory for her to take on human sacrifices…” He looked towards the dozens of herbs in the room. “I, instead, believe that the Town of Persico is too dangerously fixated on a religious belief that could be wrong. If a terrible sickness befalls this town, it should be medicine that would cure it, not a blind faith in God.” He said those words firmly.

“For that reason, I’ve been studying herbal medicine for years…But strangely enough, there’s so little to learn about this supposed ‘sickness’. In my lifetime, I have experienced no cases about it, I’ve read no cases about it. It’s very strange.”

With a final sigh, Kyle leaned back into his seat. As if noticing how his topics could easily change the originally light-hearted atmosphere of the house, he awkwardly rubbed his nose. Embarrassment suddenly started sinking into him too, with how much he’d talked…He sure loved to talk.

“B-but anyways…If you guys would like to help me save the town, maybe we can learn about the sickness together.” He suggested, but then realized how silly his suggestion may be. “Though I’m not sure how, since you guys should be focusing on escaping. I doubt the town can even tolerate the slight glimpse of your presence anyway. We do, however, have a library at the east side of Persico, and they contain hundreds of books. Though I did not make any significant discovery there, maybe it’ll be different for you guys!”

“I’m sorry for bringing the whole mood down…” He added at the end, cautiously.

At that moment, another System announcement appeared again as a pop-up blue screen.

Obtained #1: Persico Theology Textbook

Theology: The Persico Faith -
Theology textbook provided for students of Persico school, though everyone in town probably has a copy of it. The book contains the original words that Kyle has provided a summary of, but the book is there for anyone's review.
---
System has also graciously decided to automatically give access to an easier view of the town, in the form of Kyle's talented drawing. Please note that the town has since expanded in size since he first drew, so it is not the most precise---

Obtained #2: Persico Town Drawing
town pic weee.jpg

*Note: The purple house is your approximate current location.

Everyone have access to these two items.

We wish you a fun game. Thank you.

 

Perhaps Morgan’s getting old because when he hears the tell-tale stutter of their host, the corners of his eyes soften with mirth, and he’s forced to duck his head to hide the faint smile stretched across his lips. Despite having never found his match—because, truly, what a disaster that would be—he still finds the sight of seeing someone halfway between his generation and the next fall in love heartwarming. Especially in a time like this, a moment of peace snatched from whatever puzzle the system has thrown their way in the form of Persico. Ah, young love; he’d used to dream of something similarly explosive back when he’d been in his final years of college as if he was going to stumble into a scientific breakthrough hand-in-hand, arm-in-arm with someone who bickered with him every step of the way.

Thinking back on it now, he acknowledges that the whole thing would have been painful. Only youth could convince someone that arguing with a coworker was romantic.

Youth.

Morgan pauses, eyes widening faintly in realization as he excuses himself from the room and into the kitchen. There, he finds an empty jug with careful hands—wouldn’t want Kyle to have to replace anything, after all—and begins the process of filling it, strained amusement finally fading as he meets his eyes in the reflection of the gurgling water.

“Surely Kyu’s much older than him, given her mastery in magic?”
Morgan wonders, keeping the words soft. Likely older than him, even. Fantasy books like Tolkien’s had always emphasized just how old some races could be, and those with magic had always ranked among those with the most longevity. Of course, it’s just a one-sided crush, destined to remain so with the presence of the system, but the idea leaves him staring wearily at the container as the water inside begins to creep upward.

Luckily, he’s saved from his considerations by the sound of conversation spilling out of the open door and into the kitchen. Morgan’s brows furrow at the mention of a scent, eyes shifting towards the screen as it flashes in front of his eyes. Temporarily setting magic aside—the others can cover that front—he’d point towards it being from some form of drugs or sedatives. Though, he’s never heard of any of the former smelling sweet; quite the opposite, really, from his experience. It seems like it leans more toward magic, then, especially with the townspeople being immune to it. After all, it’d be quite inconvenient if their protection blocked out the possibility of anesthetics, and the townspeople didn’t seem to have any complaints about their blessings.

Leaving a little space between the water and the rim to avoid any spills, Morgan lifts the jug and makes his way back inside, setting it on the dining table a little way from Mister Bubblipuppi.
“Hopefully this doesn’t bother you,”
he says, tapping lightly on the container before turning back to analyzing their new bout of information. After all, blessing or curse, Morgan’s been given quite a talent in medicine, even if it’s more on the chemical side than herbal.

For now, though.
“Not at all, you’ve been very helpful,”
Morgan says, voice turned gentle to diffuse Kyle’s cautious apology.
“And I would like to help with the sickness. I know a bit about medicine, actually, though I believe you’d be the expert between us given the experiments you’ve already run.”


He tips his head, thinking.
“Since we’re on the topic, though, would you happen to know where the statue was located? If it’s the reason the ritual began, perhaps it could be a clue to solving our mission?”
Morgan suggests, remembering his hasty attempts at conversation with Angela at the thought. Luckily, none of the consequences he’d thought to be at stake came true. It’d be inconvenient, to say the least, if the system had banned her from speaking—or even all of them, considering they’d probably all hinted at it one way or another during the course of their planning.
 

Chen Yifeng
"Many thanks," Yifeng murmered, receiving a hot cup of steaming tea from their gracious host. Cradling it in both hands, he leaned in and took in the aroma. Certainly tea, though not a cultivar he was familiar with. Taking a curious sip, he tilted his head. Sweet and almost fruit-like. No substitute for the fragrant green teas of his home, but pleasant nonetheless. Kyle and the horned sorceress were adept brewers.

Setting the small cup aside, Yifeng stood, then reached down and loosened his sash. "A gift," he replied to Garrett, drawing out the divine bundle and unfolding it. "From the heavens to assist in our trials. Truly they are magnanimous." The martial artist laid the cloth out against the table before him. As he did, the harshly-bright window appeared in the air again, ready for the others to read. Yifeng cast a glance at Kyle, who seemed entirely incapable of recognizing the projection and even the words they spoke, and felt reassured. Though the boy was true of heart, it would not do to involve him in any further bloodshed. Already he was taking a heavy risk to shelter the escapees, and if he became aware of the nature of their appearance and mission in these lands, it would only grow heavier.

"A cape of invisibility," Yifeng repeated for those unable to read the tile at the moment. "Though the limits on its usage are restrictive, I have no doubt that this will allow us to navigate the town undetected with much greater ease." He glossed over the rest of the befuddling description, recognizing it as some strange form of humor beyond his understanding. Why would anyone go to such lengths as to become invisible for something as trifling as a simple fall? And of course, the final warning was entirely unecessary. There was no way one of the champions hand-chosen by the gods would ever conceive of such a transgression -- and if they did, they would be met by blade-tip. Hypothetically, of course. Yifeng had full faith in the character of his new companions.

Listening quietly as the others continued their discussions, Yifeng sipped at his rapidly-cooling tea. Yes, an enjoyable flavor, he decided. As Kyle continued on, giving an impassioned retelling of the tragic history of these lands, Yifeng felt a deep swell of emotion from within his heart. His was a kind soul, somehow still unsullied despite the taint of evil permeating his surroundings. Having now experienced it once, the martial artist knew that the most terrifying thing to happen was not death. It was to fail in his defense of the righteous. Still he grieved for the villagers slain by his enemies. Villains, hardly more than beasts, whose figures he saw reflected in those of these cultists. A different world, but the same cruelties. It seemed almost unthinkable to allow others to suffer a similar fate.

He placed a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder. "You have not been forsaken. It was the will of the heavens which brought us to this town -- and you to us." He turned to face the others. "I am of the opinion we are here to ultimately save this town. The heavens would not deign to place us here for the sole purpose of leaving. I believe this 'invisibility cape' may address some of our need to avoid detection, though not for long. If we are to venture out into the more populated areas of the town, I suggest sending a smaller unit to investigate. Perhaps even only a single person, so as to maximize their ability to stay hidden. The remainder ought to pursue alternative avenues."



Location: Kyle's House
Date: Year 2030​

 
As he sat, exhaustion crept up on him like overgrown vines. He was tired, muscles familiarly wound tight, soon loosened. It had taken long seconds for the sniper's mind to recognise the serenity of the situation. Beyond the long periods of abject tedium, the moments dominated by blaring gunfire, screams of terror, and the ear-aching explosions of improvised devices were surging torrents of a black ocean. Brutal skirmishes, hours at length, felt like an age, an age where each breath choked by the fervour of combat. Garrett blinked. His lungs relaxed and he found himself breathing again — slow, short, shallow breaths. His fingers curled, knuckles white, clutching a grip long removed from his hands. His eyes went up, glancing at the woman, the warmth of a sunrise crystallised, radiating from the sincerity in her soft smile.

Garrett gave silent thanks, hand outstretching to take the cup. The glass' chill quelled the fiery tremor in his hands. He stood carefully, pacing about the room, acknowledging his allies' observations. Taking small sips as he went. His head shifted, dim jade eyes on Kyle. The presence of the head townsman in the opposite dwelling could prove inconvenient, even regarding the young man's assessment. However, the sniper noticed the youth's ignorance of the mysterious architects of this accursed entertainment, deaf to their words and blind to their static displays. Perhaps, it had been for the better, he should not be further embroiled in their assignment.

He suspects it would not be bloodless for long.

Yifeng soon unveiled his discovery, a shroud of light-bending weave. Garrett's eyes widened slightly, leaning over the cloak. His hand went out, caressing down the length of the cloak — he felt the smooth, silk surface flow beneath his fingers. "Nice." He muttered, it reminded him of the rumours spread about their bases amongst the soldiers, of covert experiments involving the usage of optical distortion material. This, however, is unparalleled.

The conversation continued, Garrett remarked the purpose smouldering within them. He nodded his approval at their convictions. "That's the mission." He said, voice stolid, hardened with determination. It was a simple decision to make. "But survival's your responsibility." Garrett cautioned, then went on, arms crossed against his chest. "I agree with Master Yifeng. Myself, or Hysteria if she can avoid direct observation, should investigate. Refining our knowledge of the territory should be the immediate priority. The better our understanding, the better our chances." He gestured to Morgan with his eyes. "The statue could have something, though I'd focus on the library as Kyle mentioned. City hall, or whatever passes for it, may also have pertinent information. However, it will be guarded, perhaps more so than the library."
 
Last edited:
Kyu
&
Angela
&
Tod
Tags:
Morgan luciferin luciferin
Location:
Kyle's House

“Goddess Carita…”
Angela, who’d been listening rather keenly to Kyle’s rambling, mumbled to herself while making a mental note of the name. If the presence of the divine was real in this world, was she a friend or a foe? As much as the young boy whose soul radiated the pure hues of an honest and upstanding individual vouched for the goddess, the existence of the “Persico Scent Effect” mentioned by the system instilled a sense of wariness toward the revered deity. She was no stranger to the manner in which mankind utilized religion to move the masses to facilitate their selfish desires, but the widespread and consistency of the scent effect made the idea of the villagers merely drugging the sacrifices feel not quite right. Then, there was that mysterious illness to consider.

Ah, well. What did a streetrat like her know? It was best to leave it up to the experts, especially when someone claiming to have a background in medicine had already spoken up about investigating the sickness.

She turned to face Morgan.
“I think it’d be worth investigating that ‘scent’ as well. I don’t know much about medicine or the human body, but if it’s not magic or drugs, perhaps it has something to do with pollen or the like.”
A small part of her even wondered if the scent had anything to do with the sickness, if it even existed. However, she ultimately left that last part unspoken, being suddenly overcome with a sense of foolishness.

“I’ll uh,”
she started awkwardly,
“I’ll go help Kyu in the kitchen for the time being.”
And like an animal whose tail had been set on fire, she scampered off into the kitchen.

In a desperate attempt to distract herself from the odd manner in which she’d excused herself, Angela busied herself with inspecting the ingredients Kyle had kindly permitted them to use. While the purple-haired woman’s head was bent down as she picked at which potatoes seemed to be of the most convenient size and shape, a small cone-shaped projection suddenly appeared above her head and waved back-and-forth a few times in an attempt to catch Kyu’s attention.

DON’T
LET
HER
COOK
!!!
(╥﹏╥)


One-by-one, blue words appeared and disappeared. As if to emphasize his distress, the AI lingered on the crying face emoji and shook the projection violently. It was a tough job looking after his administrator, and he didn’t dare chance allowing her to get on everyone’s bad side by ruining their meal. However, if he directly intervened, she’d only scold him and state that an entity with no taste buds had no right to judge her cooking. Sure, he couldn’t taste her food, but he had eyes! And anyone with a working pair of eyes would know better than to consume the poisonous sludge she tried to serve them.

Kyu flashed another smile, her lips curling with a touch of mischief as she watched the young man grow flustered. Humans... such interesting creatures, always so easily teased. Her gaze shifted then, settling on another figure—what was her name again? Angel... Angelie? Angeline? Ah, yes. Angela. A human with a name borrowed from celestial beings, as if some distant hope and expectation rested upon those frail, slender shoulders. Kyu's curiosity piqued. What burdens did this mortal carry, draped in a name meant for something far beyond her kind?

With a subtle nod, Kyu allowed Angela to join her in the kitchen. Perhaps, in quiet space between simmering pots and fragrant herbs, she could pry into the girl's thoughts, uncover the truth about the slavery upon poor Tod.

Once Kyu had absorbed the details of Kyle’s kitchen—each tool, each nook—she moved toward the door, leaving it slightly ajar. A simple trick, ensuring that the conversations in the other room would drift through the air to her ears, unguarded. For a moment, the words were clear, like drops of rain tapping against a window, but soon they blurred, fading into a distant hum as her attention shifted, drawn instead to the array of ingredients before her. A notification flashed in front of her, something about Persico Scent Effect, but she brushed it aside.

Not long after, Angela slipped into the kitchen. She busied herself immediately, eyes scanning the ingredients with practiced precision before selecting a few potatoes, her fingers moving with the quiet confidence of someone well-versed in the art of cooking. A chef, perhaps, like Kyu herself. But then, something strange happened. Out of nowhere, a small, cone-shaped figure materialized atop Angela’s head. Kyu froze, her brows knitting together in both wonder and wariness. Magic. But a kind she had never seen before.

As Kyu watched, words began to form in the air. She leaned in closer, murmuring under her breath, trying to make sense of them.
“Don’t… let… her… cook?”
Confusion deepened as another image followed, a pair of chairs? In a river? Kyu’s mind raced, trying to decipher the cryptic symbols. Was this some form of ritual? A hidden message? Or worse, a sacrifice?

Her thoughts spiraled, a spark of suspicion igniting.
Could it be…?


Kyu's eyes narrowed as her mind drifted back to the idea about Tod’s slavery. Was Angela here to conduct some hidden ritual under the guise of helping with dinner? Was she, in fact, not an innocent player, but an agent of evil, cloaked in deception? The signs were all there… the peculiar magic, the strange symbols. Everything pointed toward something sinister. Human… it was always human.

Yet, Kyu, ever as patient and wise as a dragon, refused to leap to conclusions too quickly. The truth often hid itself in shadows, and she had learned long ago to wait, to observe, and to strike only when certain. She could always kill her on spot. A soft smile curved her lips, concealing the sharpness of her thoughts as she turned to Angela. Her voice was light, casual, but her eyes gleamed with intent.

“Angela, dear,"
Kyu called, her tone as warm as ever.
"Please make sure the potatoes you choose are clean and smooth, free from any deep cuts or blemishes. If there’s only a small flaw, that’s fine… can always CUT that part away.”


The conical screen above Angela’s head filled itself with a multitude of scattered question marks at the remark. For once, the AI and its administrator were in sync, reflected in the stunned expression blatantly drawn upon the purple-haired woman’s face. Though the grey veil of suspicion had never released its hold upon Kyu’s aura, it suddenly grew in intensity, starkly contrasting against the sweet smile the dragoness wore. What had triggered the sudden shift in her emotions?

Angela looked down at the potato in her left hand and then at the calluses and scars in plain view on her empty right hand.

“Oh!”
she exclaimed before following up with a short, mirthful laugh.
“Don’t worry! My hands look like this, but my fingers are still dextrous! I work with small parts and delicate machinery all the time, so things like knife work are a cinch. I’ve got this handled. Not too much, not too little.”


As if to emphasize her point, Angela retrieved the knife from the countertop and deftly gave it two spins. With practiced ease, she cut clean, long strips of skin off of the potato, revealing the smooth and yellow flesh underneath. Had it not been for a certain, glaring issue, she would’ve put on a convincing act of being a regular in the kitchen.

Tod, however, was not one to let matters of cleanliness go:

“According to the Food Safety Manual downloaded from the military base’s network, it is highly recommended that
ADMIN ANGELA
, in Miss Thelessa’s words, ‘wash all your damn vegetables’.”


Like a dog scolded for chewing on its owner’s shoelaces, Angela sheepishly shifted her eyes from side-to-side.
“Uh,”
she started while furtively scooting over to the sink and dumping the rest of the potatoes into it.
“Of course I knew that.”


“Yes... you should always wash them first, dear…”
Kyu’s eyes narrowed, following Angela’s every move as she dropped the potatoes into the sink. Her gaze lingered intently on each potato, watching as the water poured over them, ensuring every speck of dirt was scrubbed away.

The exchange between Angela and Tod caught her attention. Though Tod’s voice held its monotone, Kyu sensed a faint undertone of playfulness woven into his words. It was a subtle sign of familiarity, hinting at a bond that stretched beyond the boundaries of mere duty. And the way Angela responded momentarily stirred the waters of Kyu’s suspicions about slavery’s chains binding Tod. Still, she couldn’t afford to lower her guard. Not yet.

“I suppose we’ll make soup,”
Kyu murmured thoughtfully, eyeing the sparse assortment of ingredients laid out before them.
“With so little to feed nine mouths, a hearty broth should provide more.”
Reaching for the carrots and a handful of wilting greens, she then put it by the sink before she turned, plucking a large, empty bowl from the nearby shelf.
“Can I trust you to wash these as well, dear?”
she asked, holding out the bowl to Angela.
“Once they’re clean, peel and cut them, and we’ll add them to the pot.”


While leaving the task of washing and chopping to Angela, Kyu turned her attention to the small spice cabinet, her gaze flitting over the modest selection Kyle kept in the kitchen. Salt, pepper... simple, but sufficient. With the addition of some onions and garlic, she could coax out a depth of flavor that would transform even the most humble of meals. Satisfied, she turned back to the table and started working on the chicken. She sprinkled salt and pepper over the raw chicken. Once the meat was evenly coated, she lifted a large, slightly battered pot from its resting place and set it firmly atop the stove. She placed the seasoned chicken inside, then took up a pitcher, pouring a steady stream of water until it just covered the chicken.

She turned the flame high, the fire crackling beneath the pot in a sudden burst of life, and waited for the water to rise to a rolling boil. The sharp scent of spices began to blend with the warmth of steam, filling the small kitchen with the promise of sustenance. Once the surface of the water trembled and danced with bubbles, Kyu lowered the heat, calming the pot to a gentle simmer. The fire beneath dimmed to a steady glow.

Content for the moment, she stepped back, glancing briefly at Angela’s progress,
“Are you doing okay, sweetie?”


While Kyu had been painstakingly preparing a hearty soup, Angela had diligently chopped the vegetables as instructed. The chopped potatoes sat within a separate bowl she’d retrieved from one of the cabinets, while the rest of the vegetables had been neatly arranged in the bowl the dragoness had handed her. Each vegetable had been washed (thankfully) and carefully chopped with an impressive degree of precision. The purple-haired woman even proudly thought to herself that if someone measured each piece, they’d find no more than a 3.5 percent difference.

Unfortunately, the strange mixture of whatever ingredients she’d taken the liberty to mix into a third bowl was far more eye-catching.

It was a dark brown in color, akin to mud, despite none of the assortment of raw ingredients available in the kitchen possessing such a color. Everything appeared evenly mixed—that is, it was impossible to distinguish what manner of mystery ingredients had been tossed into the bowl.

“Everything’s chopped,”
Angela announced before lifting up the bowl of mysterious sludge for Kyu to see,
“I was craving an omelet, so I hope you don’t mind me helping myself to a small portion of the carrots and alliums.”


As if she saw nothing wrong with the “egg mixture” in her hands, Angela began to look around for a medium-sized pan. Simultaneously, Tod’s screen appeared above her head once again, this time writing
“STOP HER!!!”
in red, bold, underlined, and even circled for good measure.

Everything seemed surprisingly perfect, a result Kyu hadn’t anticipated from Angela. She had expected a chaotic medley of unevenly chopped vegetables, some chunks too large, others cut into slivers, but the pieces before her were remarkably uniform. Each potato, each carrot, each leafy green was diced with precision, their edges neat and consistent. Before she could dwell on it, Angela held up another bowl, a grotesque concoction of ingredients mashed beyond recognition.

The contents were unidentifiable, a brownish sludge of odd shapes and colors that looked utterly unfit for even a stray dog’s meal. Kyu’s gaze flickered over the bowl, the girl must have mistaken a few of the ingredients… Angela mentioned something about craving an omelet. But shouldn’t an omelet be a bright, inviting yellow? This murky brown abomination was nowhere near the golden, fluffy ideal. Before Kyu could voice her thoughts, a sudden flash of crimson caught her eyes… a warning flare across her vision as a screen materialized, blaring in urgent red letters.

“STOP HER!!!”


The message hammered into Kyu’s mind, igniting a sudden surge of dread. This… this was no mere culinary disaster. This was a ruse. A deadly spell disguised as an innocent mistake. A Poison? Maybe for the ritual? It had to be some nefarious enchantment, meant to kill them all. Angela… oh Angela… sweet and unassuming, was setting the stage for their doom, intending to make them unwilling sacrifices to fuel her dark sorcery.

Kyu reacted without a second thought. In one swift, fluid motion, she seized Angela by the lower arm, yanking her closer until their faces were mere inches apart. The kitchen seemed to still, shadows thickening around them as if holding its breath. The light of the simmering pot flickered, casting Kyu’s face in a sharp, almost predatory relief. Her grip was firm, unyielding, yet not painful. Kyu’s eyes burned with a smoldering intensity, the embers of her own magic flaring to life behind her gaze. Deep hues of molten gold flickered at the edges of her pupils, mixing with the steady, searing red of her magic’s fire as she stared down into Angela’s wide, startled purple eyes.

“What are you planning, little rabbit?”
she murmured, her voice low and dangerously soft, the melody of it as sweet as a lullaby yet laced with an edge sharp enough to cut.

For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to just the two of them. If Angela dared to look any longer into Kyu’s gaze, she would feel it… a creeping, insidious sensation like invisible fingers curling around her chest. Her Aura of Terror simmered just beneath Kyu’s skin. Her presence pressed down, palpable and suffocating, as if the air itself recoiled in fear. Tightness would coil in Angela’s chest, squeezing her lungs, a primal instinct warning her to flee, to submit.

Kyu held her there, poised on the brink, her eyes never wavering. “Tell me,” she breathed softly,
“What is this really, little rabbit?”


The bowl of egg mixture clattered noisily onto the countertop, spilling a bit of its contents onto the cutting board and potentially attracting attention with the sudden noise. Instinctively squeezing her eyes shut when suddenly pulled forward, Angela nearly habitually yelled out a sharp sound of pain but managed to keep her mouth closed when she noticed the rough grip didn’t actually hurt.

“It’s just eggs and carrots,”
she said in a whine-like tone,
“if you don’t like it-”


When the purple-haired woman’s eyes fluttered back open, her breath hitched. She found herself entrapped within the molten gaze of the taller woman. Angela knew her own emotions very well, and it didn’t take much to recognize that the creeping sensation of dread swiftly spreading throughout her body was drawn out through the influence of something foreign. However, her ability to read emotions didn’t provide her with any special mental barriers, and she found herself quickly suppressed by the gaze threatening to squeeze the breath out of her and devour her whole.

“Fear response detected: engaging-”


When Tod’s voice suddenly broke through the stalemate, Angela grit her teeth and managed to draw out a firm order to
“Stop.”
amidst her shaky breaths. Though the arm secured within Kyu’s grip trembled, she wasn’t willing to call upon Tod and start a commotion here. Not when they needed everyone’s cooperation.

“Wh-what…”
Angela stuttered, heart beating rapidly within her chest and mouth dry. With a swallow that didn’t do much to alleviate her symptoms, she managed to fight against the fear gripping her mind just enough to speak clearly.
“I could… ask you the same. Why are you so wary of an egg? What makes you so wary of me? Us? Nothing good will come out of sabotaging the mission.”


The fire in Kyu’s eyes flickered and faded, dimming like embers doused by a sudden downpour. Her grip slackened and as if awakened from a dark trance, she blinked, releasing Angela’s arm and stepping back, a weight of guilt settling heavily in her chest. Silence stretched between them. The fierce beast within her that had flared so violently, retreated into the corners of her mind. Why? The question had no answer.

Maybe her body had healed from the blade’s thrust, but the scar left upon her heart—deep, jagged, and unhealed—throbbed with every heartbeat. It was a silent, festering wound that bled anger and despair, screaming for release. It had driven her into senseless outbursts, lashing out at shadows and illusions, hurting those who had done nothing to deserve her wrath. She was a creature turned inward, torn by grief and mistrust, striking at any hand that dared reach for her.

How pathetic.

Her rampage was neither wise nor just… it was the desperate, clumsy flailing of a wounded beast. She’d let her pain consume her, blind her. And in the end, she’d targeted someone innocent, a girl who had done nothing more than crave a simple comfort—a homemade omelet.

Kyu turned away, unable to face Angela’s wide, startled eyes. As she moved, she caught sight of the mess on the table. The sight of it twisted something sharp and painful inside her, an ache of regret that made her want to weep.

“Sorry…”
The word was a soft, broken thing, falling from Kyu’s lips like a fragile leaf caught in the wind. She kept her back to Angela, her voice low, shoulders bowed as if under a crushing weight.
“It’s just… I… I’m overprotective, I suppose. Of myself. Of what little I have left.”
A bitter laugh escaped her,
“In the end, you’re the only person who won’t betray yourself, right?”


Her apology was halting, awkward, but painfully sincere. She didn’t expect Angela to forgive her. Didn’t deserve it, really. But even if the girl couldn’t meet her gaze, Kyu needed her to know, it hadn’t been personal, it hadn’t been about Angela at all.

“You wanted an omelet, right, dear?”
she murmured, forcing a lightness back into her tone as if trying to sweep away of what had just happened.
“Let me whip up a fresh mixture for you and you can cook it yourself.”


It was as if a switch had flipped in the back of her mind, her demeanor shifting back to its usual, casual calm. But the remnants of her guilt lingered, etched into the furrow of her brow and the soft hesitance of her movements. Quickly, Kyu cracked open the remaining eggs. She whisked the mixture together with brisk strokes and poured half into the simmering pot, stirring it in to thicken the soup’s broth, infusing it with a richer, heartier flavor.

Kyu reached for the spices for the remaining mixture, adding a dash here and there, then mixed in the chopped carrots, creating a simple but bright-colored blend. She then turned and held the bowl out to Angela, a faint, tentative smile on her lips.
“Here you go, dear. This should be enough,”
she said gently.
“Please don’t add anything else, alright, dear? Just heat a bit of butter in the pan, then pour this in and let it set.”
Then she turned away, giving Angela the space to breathe.

Not one to hold grudges, especially when the opposite party was cloaked in a heavy cover of a morose indigo, Angela accepted the bowl with a bright smile.
“I won’t ask you to trust me, but there’s a reason why you’re here, right? So you’ll be stuck with us for a while.”
With one hand, she held the bowl, and she pretended to wipe away a fake tear with the other.
“Don’t worry. You can take comfort that I’m just a weak little girl with no special powers. Well, I can see some extra colors, but it’s nothing special like what a big, scary dragon can do. Boohoo.”


The “weak little girl” then placed a little butter into the pan on the stove as instructed. However, the moment she turned the knob controlling the heat, the flames suddenly rocketed unusually high, as if offended that the woman had dared to invade its sacred domain. Flustered, Angela quickly turned off the heat before putting down the bowl in her hand. She crossed her arms indignantly.
“Even in another world, that demon still threatens to burn my omelets!”


“Perhaps,”
Tod cut in dryly,
ADMIN ANGELA
should accept that she is a walking hazard in the kitchen.”


Angela scoffed.
“For the last time, I CAN cook. It’s not my fault the kids are so dramatic. I ate everything just fine, didn’t I? You don’t even have taste buds, so what do you know?”


Kyu let out a soft chuckle, just a brief, amused sound that escaped her before she could stop it. Maybe she needed this. To laugh. To breathe.

“Hold on, dear,”
Kyu said, her voice lighter now, almost playful.
“Let me just finish up with the soup here.”


With practiced ease, she lifted the chicken and broth from the pot, setting them aside. She quickly grabbed a knife and chopped the garlic and onions. The sharp, fragrant scent filled the kitchen as she tossed a pat of butter into the pot, watching it melt and sizzle before adding the onions, then the garlic. A rich, mouth-watering aroma soon wafted through the air, and Kyu smiled as the familiar warmth of home-cooked food began to settle around them.

Once the onions and garlic were perfectly sautéed, she added the potatoes and vegetables, followed by the broth. She stirred the mixture with care, watching as the liquid absorbed the flavors of the spices she sprinkled in.

Kyu then turned her attention to Angela,
“Think you can take over from here, dear?”
She asked.

“Just stir it once a while and make sure the potatoes and carrots get soft, please… don’t add anything else to it, love. While you’re at it, could you help me shred the chicken? Once everything is tender, we’ll toss back the chicken in along with the rest of the veggies... As simple as that.”


She offered a small, encouraging smile, hoping to ease the lingering tension between them. Kyu then moved to the stove and began preparing the omelet. A part of her though, couldn’t help but glance over at Angela from time to time. Once the omelet was golden and fragrant, she slid it onto a plate and turned back toward Angela.
“All good, dear?”


Fortunately for Kyu and anyone waiting for a hot meal, Angela had obediently taken to giving a few harmless stirs to the pot when instructed by Tod. Nothing more, nothing less. Once the shredded chicken and the rest of the vegetables were added back into the pot, the two were at long last able to set the table for lunch. The meal wasn’t sumptuous or anything fancy by any means, but the soup was hearty, and Angela didn’t forget to give Kyu a compliment when she snuck a taste prior to setting the table.

Angela waved at Kyle and the others to catch their attention if the smell of food hadn’t already done so.
“If you’re hungry, there’s soup and eggs. Can’t work on an empty stomach.”
Code by Nano
 

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