The sun rose lazy over Enrai Island, casting golden stripes through the bedroom window like a painter gone wild.
In that soft light, Allen lay flat on his belly—eyelids twitching, drool pooling on the edge of his pillow, and hair sticking up like a porcupine had used him as a stress ball. His shirt had somehow migrated to wrap around one leg, and his arm hung over the bed like a pirate tossed ashore after a night of sake.
Right beside him, tucked under his other arm like a prized treasure, was his little sister: Aira.
She was only a year younger, and very much still in the toddler phase, but she was already a menace. The kind of girl who looked you dead in the eye as she dropped your favorite cup off the table and said, "Oopsie."
Her head rested on his shoulder. A tiny line of drool escaped the corner of her lip. And wrapped around both their legs, like some squishy python of doom, was a stolen kitchen apron.
Why?
Because sometime in the night, they'd tried to sneak into the pantry again and got caught in an "emergency extraction."
Serena D. Walker stood outside the door, arms crossed, holding a wooden ladle like it was a legendary weapon. Her expression was a cocktail of exhaustion, affection, and spiritual resignation.
She turned to Hades, who was sipping tea calmly like the world wasn't on fire.
"They tied the cat to the ceiling fan last night," she said flatly.
Hades didn't even blink. "How's the cat?"
"Emotionally shattered."
He sipped. "Toughen it up. It's a Walker cat."
Serena groaned, rubbing her temples. "They broke into the kitchen, rewired the toaster, and poured flour into the bath."
"Allen's got initiative," Hades said, setting his cup down. "That's good leadership."
She glared. "You're enabling him."
"I'm proud."
Inside the room, Allen stirred, blinked once… and immediately sprang up like a man escaping a nightmare.
"Where's the pancake stash?!" he yelped.
Aira rolled over and hiccupped. "I eat it."
"Liar! I put it behind the cheese drawer!"
She blinked innocently. "Mouse took it."
Allen's eyes narrowed. "...You are the mouse."
She gasped dramatically and smacked his chest with a pillow, sending feathers from yesterday's war puffing into the air like spirits being exorcised.
Serena opened the door at that exact moment, only to be hit in the face with a flying sock and an airborne spoon.
She didn't flinch.
"Breakfast. Downstairs. Now," she said in her mom voice.
Allen raised a hand. "Quick question—are pancakes involved?"
"Yes."
"I'm in."
Aira raised her hand too. "I want cookies."
"It's 8 AM," Serena muttered.
"I want cookieeeees," Aira sang, already skipping out barefoot.
Serena sighed. "She's got your rebellion."
"No," Allen grinned as he passed her, shirt half-on. "She's got my legacy."
Kitchen Chaos – 10 minutes later
The Walkers' kitchen was warm and fragrant, with sunlight pouring in and cinnamon lingering in the air. Serena flipped pancakes with one hand, balanced Aira on her hip with the other, and kept an eye on Allen—who was trying to "invent" syrup by boiling jellybeans in hot water.
"Allen," she said without looking, "step away from the stove."
"But it's alchemy!"
"It's disaster."
He pouted. "You're not letting me innovate."
"I'm letting you breathe."
Aira sat on the counter licking whipped cream from a spoon, eyes wide as Allen tried to sneak a butter knife into the mix.
"I'm making the ultimate pirate spread," he declared, smearing strawberry jam over a pancake like he was painting a flag.
"Then you'll need a name for it," Serena said, amused despite herself.
Allen thought for a moment, whipped cream dotting his chin. "...'The Devil's Breakfast.'"
Aira clapped. "Spooky!"
Serena sighed. "You're both cursed."
Later in the Garden
Allen was now trying to build a slingshot using two spoons, Aira's ponytail, and divine inspiration.
Aira just watched him with absolute faith. "Will it go boom?"
"I don't know," Allen said honestly. "But if it does, we'll pretend it was dad."
From behind a tree, Hades raised a brow. "I heard that."
Allen blinked. "I didn't say anything."
"You said it exactly."
"I said it in love."
Hades walked over and crouched beside them. "You two are monsters."
Aira beamed. "Rawr."
Hades nodded. "Excellent."
Allen handed him the spoon contraption. "It needs more boom."
"I'll get the black powder."
Serena's voice boomed from across the courtyard, "YOU'LL GET DIVORCED."
Allen laughed so hard he fell over. Hades stood up slowly. "She's always watching."
That Evening
As the sun dipped below the sea and painted the sky in molten gold, the Walker family gathered on the patio with hot mugs and warm blankets. Aira snuggled into Serena's lap, half-asleep and sugar-crashed.
Allen sat between his parents, his energy finally worn thin. His head leaned against Hades' arm, and he stared at the sky.
He was quiet.
Serena glanced at him. "Tired, baby?"
He nodded. Then, after a long pause, he whispered, "...I had another dream."
Serena's smile faltered.
"Was it scary?" she asked.
He shook his head. "No. Just… big. Like the sky was talking."
Hades didn't move, but Allen felt the shift in his presence.
"What did it say?" Hades asked softly.
Allen's voice was even softer. "That I'm being called."
The wind brushed past them.
Serena held Aira closer.
Later That Night
Allen snuck out of bed. Again.
Barefoot, wrapped in his blanket like a cloak, he padded silently across the halls until he reached the edge of the cliff behind the house.
The sea shimmered beneath a full moon. Waves whispered secrets.
He stood there.
And then… he felt it again.
That tug in his chest. Like a rope pulling gently. Like something was waiting.
He looked down at his hands.
Tiny.
Soft.
Mortal.
But inside… there was weight.
He didn't understand it fully. Not yet.
But it felt like the world had eyes, and they were turning toward him.
Epilogue: Beneath the Island
The fruit pulsed once. Then again.
Symbols flickered along the stone casing—sacred lines etched in fate itself.
One of them shimmered in full.
"The Child Has Laughed."
Another appeared beneath it.
"And So Begins the Cracking of the Sky."