Myles just stares at the green-haired woman in front of him—adorable, smug, and completely unbothered. He blinks once. Twice. He still can't wrap his head around how exactly his life spiraled into this.
First, assassination attempts disguised as "tests." Now? He has to lift a fully-grown, tied-up bull using nothing but sheer strength.
"You didn't think your penalty was going to be easy, did you?" Verdure grins, patting his shoulder like a proud coach. Then, with zero effort, she hoists the enormous, snorting beast and straps its cartoonishly massive body onto his far-too-average frame. "There. See? You can do it."
Myles nearly buckles."What is this monster—and why is she so damn cute?!" his inner voice screams. "Every muscle in my body is protesting this. Loudly."
He tries to take a step.
Nothing.
"Moving is basically impossible."
"Come on, Myles. We have to get Clav home before noon," Verdure chirps, her radiant smile lighting up her face like sunshine through glass.
To Myles, it's less sunshine and more sunburn.
He grits his teeth and drags one foot forward. Then the next. Each step feels like an act of war against his own body. Pain ripples through him like broken glass under his skin.
"Do... you... mind... if I ask you a question?" he wheezes between gasps, voice fraying at the edges.
Verdure pauses, turning to face him with wide, innocent eyes. "What is it?"
"How did you get so... strong?" he pants, barely managing to lift his head.
She tilts hers slightly, thinking. "Mmm... hard work?" she offers with a confused blink. "Isn't that how anyone gets strong?"
Myles lets out a short, breathy laugh—half amusement, half disbelief. "You know, my body shouldn't be able to do any of this."
He stops, letting his knees tremble for a moment. Clav snorts above him, blissfully unaware of the suffering below.
"Normally, a human would be crushed carrying Clav here," he mutters, glancing up at the massive beast on his back. "And yet... here I am."
Verdure's smile fades as he continues.
"One day I woke up... and my planet—everything I'd known, everyone I could've known—was just... gone."
He clears his throat, shifting the weight as best he can.
"And what's worse? My body can do things it shouldn't. I can heal from just about anything. Lost an arm? No problem. A leg? Grows back. Hell—" he lets out a dry chuckle "—a few months ago, I was just a head."
Verdure watches him, eyes unreadable now, but still gently focused—still listening.
"I guess... what I'm trying to say is—I don't know if any of this is right. If it's a second chance... do I even deserve it?"
He exhales, exhausted, both from the weight and from what he just admitted.
"Aargh—are you even getting what I'm saying?"
"Of course I don't understand what you're saying," she says, looking down solemnly. "You don't even understand what you want to say. But... I think I do."
She turns, gesturing for him to follow as she begins to walk."All my life, I've had everything handed to me," she says, eyes fixed on her hands. "Or at least, that's what people liked to say—power, influence, resources, strength… all of it. 'My birthright.'"
She glances at Myles with a gentle smile. "But one day, I realized something."
Myles watches her quietly, his gaze settling on her back—as if, for the first time, he's seeing her for who she truly is.
"I am alone." She turns slightly, just enough for him to see the calm in her expression. "And that means the only strength I can count on—to love, to protect the people I care about—has to come from me."
She exhales, soft but steady.
"It doesn't matter what others think after that. My strength is mine. And I'll use it."
Silence follows—not empty, but full. A silence of understanding.
Myles blinks slowly, absorbing her words. There was more to her than charm or beauty. Maybe... maybe he wanted to know that part of her too.
Terrene paced back and forth, her boots tapping a steady rhythm across the floor. Tema stood off to the side, eyes trailing her like a spectator at a tennis match.
"Give it a rest," he said at last. "You did what you did."
She let out a long sigh—not one of guilt, but of pure frustration. It wasn't regret she felt. It was confusion. Myles had looked genuinely thrown off by her proposal, and she couldn't make sense of it.
"Did I say something wrong?" she asked, half to herself.
"No…" Tema replied, already exhausted by her spiraling.
"Then did I do something?" She turned to him, genuinely puzzled.
"Oh, you've done plenty," he said with a smug grin.
Terrene raised a brow, folding her arms like a scolding professor. "Well? Spill."
"I'll make it simple," he said, stretching lazily. "It all comes down to one thing—you don't know how to express yourself. Like, remember when you were too shy to even look at that 'handsome, black-haired devil' Lia brought along?"
Her face lit up red like a signal flare. She snapped, "Tema!" before quickly hiding her face with her hands. "Even if we're alone, I don't want to hear embarrassing stuff like that out loud."
He smirked. "Why be shy? He is good-looking, isn't he?"
Terrene lowered her hands slowly, her glare sharp enough to cut through steel. Tema flinched.
"Alright, alright—I'll stop," he said, visibly rattled. "stars…"
"Ask him on a date," Tema said, the idea popping out the moment it crossed his mind.
Terrene's eyes widened. "But… Lia."
"A friendly date," he added quickly, hands raised in mock surrender, dripping with sarcasm.
She stared off into the distance, deep in thought, her expression unreadable. Then, without a word, she turned and bolted.
Tema blinked. "What in the world…?"
His voice trailed off as his form flickered and dissipated into thin air.