And then— she entered the kitchen.
The Chat Froze.
For several seconds there were almost no comments.
—
"WAIT."
"WHY IS SHE IN THE KITCHEN?"
"HOLD ON."
"HOLD ON."
"NO WAY."
"There Is No Way. "
Another comment appeared.
"She's probably just checking something."
"Yeah."
"There's no way."
The silence inside the comment section became almost nervous.
"Guys..."
"I don't think she's ordering food."
"No."
"Guys."
"GUYS."
"I THINK SHE'S ACTUALLY GOING TO COOK."
The comment section detonated.
"SHE CAN COOK TOO?"
"THAT'S NOT FAIR."
"HOW MANY SECRET SKILLS DOES THIS GIRL HAVE?"
"THIS STREAM WAS SUPPOSED TO ANSWER QUESTIONS."
"IT HAS CREATED MORE QUESTIONS."
Meanwhile, she tied her damp hair back.
And began organizing ingredients on the counter.
Fresh ingredients covered the counters.
Everything laid out with perfect organization.
At first, viewers thought she was simply preparing ingredients.
Then she picked up a knife.
And the entire internet collectively forgot how to breathe.
The blade moved, ridiculously fast.
Onions disappeared beneath her hands.
Thin slices fell onto the cutting board in perfect uniform rows.
Every piece identical.
The comments exploded.
"EXCUSE ME?"
"PAUSE."
"WHAT WAS THAT?"
"REPLAY IT."
A professional chef watching the stream leaned closer to his screen.
Then frowned.
Then replayed it, then frowned harder.
"No."
Another chef immediately replied,
"No?"
"No."
The knife continued moving.
Each ingredient transformed beneath her hands.
The blade seemed almost invisible.
Only the results remained.
One culinary instructor posted:
"Those cuts are cleaner than most restaurant kitchens."
The comment instantly spread.
Meanwhile, she continued without the slightest change in expression.
It looked exactly like her training.
Soon a large pot appeared.
Oil heated.
Thinly sliced onions entered first.
A gentle sizzling sound filled the kitchen.
The aroma began building.
Even through a screen, people somehow felt hungry.
The onions slowly turned golden.
The comments continued.
"I'M GETTING HUNGRY."
"THIS IS TORTURE."
"I HAVEN'T EATEN LUNCH YET."
"BIG MISTAKE."
Maya added spices.
Even experienced cooks watching the stream nodded unconsciously.
The spices coated everything evenly.
Maya stirred.
One viewer typed:
"Why does her biryani look more organized than my life?"
The comment gained twenty thousand likes.
Elsewhere, the reactions became increasingly ridiculous.
"Forget the fighting."
"Forget the training."
"I WANT THE BIRYANI."
Another comment appeared.
"Can we talk about the important issue?"
"What?"
"How do I apply for adoption into the Sunaina family?"
The replies flooded instantly.
"GET IN LINE."
"I WAS HERE FIRST."
"I DON'T EVEN NEED THE MONEY."
"I JUST WANT THE BIRYANI."
Meanwhile, She continued working.
Completely unaware of the chaos.
The final stage arrived, the kitchen became quiet.
Only the soft sound of simmering remained.
Millions waited.
One comment finally rose to the top.
"This livestream started with martial arts experts analyzing her combat techniques."
"It somehow ended with millions of people emotionally invested in a pot of biryani."
Nobody could argue with that.
The biryani was finally finished.
The rich aroma filled the mansion.
Steam rose gently from the pot.
The rice was perfectly separated.
The meat tender.
The spices balanced.
Even through a screen, viewers were convinced it looked incredible.
She opened a lunch container, packed the biryani inside.
Every portion was arranged neatly.
The comment section immediately began celebrating.
"There it is!"
"Mother's lunch has been saved."
"Mahi is about to have the best lunch of her life."
"I suddenly want biryani."
"Everyone wants biryani."
After sealing the container, she carried it toward the entrance hall.
A few minutes later, the driver's vehicle arrived.
She handed over the lunchbox.
The driver accepted it respectfully.
Then departed.
Mission accomplished.
The viewers expected she to return to the dining room.
Serve herself a plate and finally eat.
After all— she had spent hours training.
Surely she was hungry.
She returned to the kitchen.
Opened the refrigerator and took out...eggs.
The chat stopped.
"..."
"..."
"...Wait."
"WAIT."
Thousands of viewers suddenly realized something.
"WHERE'S HER BIRYANI?"
"WHY IS SHE HOLDING EGGS?"
"NO."
"NO NO NO."
"SHE GAVE AWAY THE ENTIRE BIRYANI."
"SHE DIDN'T SAVE ANY."
"NOT EVEN ONE PLATE?"
"NOT EVEN A SPOONFUL?"
The comments exploded.
"AFTER ALL THAT WORK?"
"THAT TOOK FOREVER."
"SHE COOKED A FEAST."
"AND NOW SHE'S MAKING EGGS?"
Meanwhile, she cracked an egg into a bowl.
One viewer wrote:
"She spent more effort making lunch for someone else than she is spending on her own meal."
The comment quickly climbed to the top.
Another appeared beneath it.
"That's somehow the saddest thing I've seen all day."
Elsewhere, office workers watching the stream exchanged confused looks.
Everyone had the same question.
Why?
Maya whisked the eggs.
Added a few simple ingredients.
Prepared just a simple egg dish.
One chef watching the stream leaned back in disbelief.
"She cooked restaurant-quality biryani..."
"...for someone else."
"And made eggs for herself."
Another chef replied immediately:
"I don't know why that bothers me so much."
Meanwhile, she plated the food, carried it to the dining table and began eating .
The contrast hit everyone at once.
The comment section slowed.
Not because people had lost interest.
But because many didn't know what to say.
Finally, one comment appeared.
"For someone born into one of the richest families in the country..."
"...she lives like she's trying not to take up space."
For a moment, even the usually chaotic chat grew unusually quiet.
She is halfway through her simple meal when her phone began to ring again.
She glanced at the screen.
' Mrs.Mahi. '
She answered, "Hello."
Across the country, thousands of viewers immediately paid attention.
"Uh oh."
"That's fast."
"She already got the lunch?"
"Mahi works at terrifying speed."
Meanwhile, Maya placed the phone beside her plate, "Yes?"
On the other end came Mahi's voice,calm.
Perhaps a little too calm.
"Maya."
"Yes."
A brief silence followed.
The comment section immediately grew nervous.
"...Why does that sound dangerous?"
"I don't know."
"She's using the lawyer voice."
"The lawyer voice?"
"The voice people use right before someone gets sued."
Thousands agreed instantly.
Meanwhile, Mahi spoke, "This lunch."
"Yes."
"Who cooked it?"
The viewers collectively froze.
"Oh no."
"OH NO."
"THE BIRYANI FAILED."
"SHE'S ANGRY."
"ABORT MISSION."
"THE BIRYANI HAS BEEN REJECTED."
One particularly dramatic viewer typed:
"We have lost the biryani."
Maya remained completely calm,
"I cooked it."
Silence.
The chat became increasingly anxious.
"WHY ISN'T SHE SAYING ANYTHING?"
"SOMEONE SAY SOMETHING."
"I CAN'T HANDLE THIS PRESSURE."
Mahi finally spoke, "Hmm."
The comment section immediately became worse.
"THAT'S THE SCARIEST RESPONSE."
"WHAT DOES 'HMM' MEAN?"
"I DON'T KNOW."
"IT COULD MEAN ANYTHING."
Then—
"I've hired chefs from many countries."
The chat collectively held its breath.
"I've eaten food prepared by some of the finest professionals available.
But I don't think I've ever eaten something this good."
The entire internet exploded.
"WHAT."
"WE WON."
"THE BIRYANI SURVIVED."
"THE BIRYANI THRIVED."
"I KNEW IT."
"I NEVER DOUBTED HER."
"That's a lie."
"Okay, I doubted her."
Meanwhile, Her voice remained calm,
"Your hands truly have magic in them."
For a moment, the comment section simply stared.
Maya took another bite of her eggs.
Then replied in her usual voice,
"Thank you."
The chat erupted again.
"THAT'S IT?"
"THAT'S ALL SHE SAYS?"
"MAYA."
"YOUR MOTHER JUST GAVE YOU A FIVE-STAR REVIEW."
"PLEASE SHOW MORE REACTION."
Another comment climbed rapidly toward the top.
"She fought criminals."
"Confused military experts."
"Cooked world-class biryani."
"And her response to being praised is still just: 'Thank you.'"
Thousands of people agreed.
Meanwhile, Mahi smiled faintly on the other end of the call,
"I'll be bringing this up at family dinner."
"Oh."
The comment section lost its mind.
"OH NO."
"SHE'S GETTING PUBLICLY PRAISED."
"RUN, MAYA."
"THERE IS NO ESCAPE."
Maya remained perfectly calm.
And somehow—
that only made the viewers like her even more.
Mahi ended the call without another word.
The line went silent.
The kitchen returned to its usual quiet rhythm.
Only the faint clink of Maya's spoon against the plate remained.
A few minutes later, the front door opened.
Footsteps echoed through the hallway.
Unhurried in the way only someone comfortable in their own home could be.
Farhan stepped inside.
He paused immediately.
Sniffed the air, "…Biryani?"
From the kitchen,her voice came softly.
"Yes."
Farhan didn't even take off his shoes properly.
He walked straight toward the source of the smell like a man following a compass.
"Where is Mr. Saad ?" he called out.
"He went home."
Farhan stopped at the kitchen entrance.
Looked around once, "I'm starving."
The livestream chat instantly reacted.
"HE LOCKED ONTO THE BIRYANI LIKE A MISSILE."
"NO WARNING. NO SURVIVORS."
"I RESPECT THE PRIORITIES."
Farhan pointed toward the kitchen counter,
"I'll eat first."
Maya finally glanced at him,
"Go freshen up."
A pause.
Farhan waved it off immediately,
"Nah, I'll eat now."
The comment section erupted.
"NO SHOWER. ONLY BIRYANI."
"HE CHOSE VIOLENCE."
"I SUPPORT THIS DECISION."
"THIS IS A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT MATTERS."
She don't argue, simply turned back to her plate.
Farhan pulled out a chair.
Sat down.
The moment the lid of the biryani pot lifted—
the aroma filled the entire room.
Even through the livestream, viewers seemed to pause.
As if smell could travel through screens.
Farhan stared at it for a second longer than necessary.
Then quietly said:
"…Yeah. This is serious."
The chat immediately collapsed into chaos again.
"HE CONFIRMED IT."
"IT'S OFFICIAL."
"THIS IS LEGENDARY BIRYANI."
"WE HAVE BEEN BLESSED TODAY."
Farhan served himself.
One scoop, then another.
Then stopped briefly.
Looked at it again and added more.
He took his first bite.
Paused.
Silence.
"…Okay, " That was all he said.
The comment section detonated.
"HE SAID 'OKAY' IN THAT TONE."
"THAT'S A 10/10 CONFIRMATION."
"I CAN DIE HAPPY NOW."
"THIS BIRYANI HAS BEEN VERIFIED BY TWO SUNAINAS."
Farhan continued eating, faster now.
Between bites, "Who taught you this?"
"I learned."
Farhan nodded slowly.
The meal slowly came to an end.
The biryani pot was noticeably lighter now.
Farhan leaned back in his chair, exhaling softly like someone recovering from battle.
Maya, on the other hand, had already finished her plate and quietly placed it aside.
Farhan reached for his phone.
Scrolled once.
Then tapped a contact.
"Yeah, hello."
His voice shifted instantly—casual, slightly proud, the tone of someone about to win a conversation before it even started.
On the other end, his friend greeted him with familiar energy, "Bro, what's up?"
Farhan leaned back further in his chair,
"Nothing much."
A pause.
"I just finished lunch."
The livestream chat immediately perked up.
"OH NO."
"HE'S ABOUT TO FLEX."
"I CAN FEEL IT."
His friend responded,
"Oh yeah? What did you eat?"
Farhan glanced briefly at the empty biryani pot. A small smile formed, "Biryani."
"…You ordered?"
Farhan shook his head slightly, "No."
"Then…?"
Farhan looked casually toward Maya, who was sitting quietly nearby,
"My little sister cooked it."
The internet paused.
Like it couldn't process what it had just heard.
Then it exploded.
"HE SAID IT SO CASUALLY."
"MY LITTLE SISTER COOKED IT."
"LIKE IT'S NORMAL."
"I WOULD NEVER RECOVER FROM THIS FLEX."
"HE DIDN'T EVEN TRY TO SOUND PROUD. THAT'S WHAT MAKES IT WORSE."
On the call, his friend went silent.
"…Your sister cooked biryani?"
Farhan nodded even though the other person couldn't see him, "Yeah."
"…Bro."
Farhan smiled faintly, "What?"
"You're lying."
Farhan immediately replied, completely relaxed:
"Come over if you don't believe it."
The comment section lost control again.
"HE INVITED HIM OVER."
"THIS IS A CHALLENGE NOW."
"THIS IS PERSONAL."
"I WOULD BOOK A FLIGHT RIGHT NOW."
Farhan leaned forward slightly,
"You were always saying your little sister is very well-mannered, right?"
"Yeah…?"
"Mine cooks biryani like that."
A beat of silence.
Then — "…Okay, I get it."
Farhan finally laughed.
He ended the call shortly after.
Placed the phone down.
The room returned to calm again.
Maya had already stood up, clearing her space quietly.
BUT THE CHAT?
It was far from calm.
"HE JUST WON THE ENTIRE FRIEND GROUP."
"THAT'S IT. GAME OVER."
"I'M REPORTING THIS FLEX TO AUTHORITIES."
"HOW DO YOU COMPETE WITH BIRYANI LIKE THAT?"
Somewhere in that noise, one comment floated to the top:
"In This House, Even Casual Conversations Sound Like Victories."
Farhan left the house soon after, the sound of his laughter fading into the afternoon air as he went out with his friends.
The home slowly settled into a softer silence.
Maya remained in the living room.
Seated on the sofa, a sketchbook rested on her lap.
Her pencil moved with quiet precision, The world outside felt distant as if separated by glass.
Minutes passed.
Then something shifted.
A faint heaviness settled behind her eyes.
Her breath, still calm, began to feel slightly distant—
like it was arriving a fraction too late. She paused, pencil hovering mid-air.
Silence .
Her expression didn't change.
But internally, she registered it immediately.
Fever above normal.
Over 104°F.
Her body confirmed it without drama—
temperature climbing fast, far beyond normal limits.
Then, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world, she leaned back into the sofa.
Her sketchbook slipped slightly to the side.
And lay down.
On the screen,
"Why is she not moving??"
"Is she sleeping or something else?"
"Guys I don't like this silence."
"She was fine a few minutes ago…"
"Check her breathing—someone PLEASE check her breathing."
"Bro this doesn't feel like rest."
"Her face looks pale?? or am I imagining it"
"Wait—zoom in please"
"The camera is already zoomed, look at her chest…"
"She's not reacting at all…"
"Someone came in!!"
From the outside, it looked like sleep had arrived gently, almost peacefully.
But the house did not stay quiet for long.
A short while later, the front door opened.
Fahim stepped inside.
The comments immediately sharpened.
"That's Fahim right??"
"Please notice her—please."
He stepped inside after being called back by Mahim, still carrying the weight of a long day that had been unexpectedly interrupted.
The air in the house felt different—warmer as if something had been left cooking in silence.
He paused near the living room.
His eyes shifted.
Maya is there lying on the sofa.
For a moment, he thought she was asleep.
But something about the stillness felt… too precise.
He walked closer.
The sketchbook lay open beside her hand. A pencil rested perfectly still.
"Did she fall asleep like this?"
He frowned slightly, " Maya?"
No response.
A faint unease crossed his face.
He reached out instinctively, intending to check her temperature.
His hand moving toward her forehead.
But the moment his fingers crossed the threshold of her space,
Maya moved Instantly.
Her hand shot up and locked onto his wrist mid-air, stopping it with precise control.
In the same breath, her other hand shifted—placing a controlled pressure at a sensitive point near his neck.
Fahim's body reacted before his thoughts could catch up.
One arm went numb for a split second, his balance shifting as his nervous system registered the sudden disruption.
The room froze in tension.
Then—
She blinked.
As if waking from a deep fog.
Recognition returned to her eyes.
Her grip loosened immediately.
She adjusted her hold, releasing the pressure point with careful precision, and supported his arm as sensation returned.
"Sorry ," she said faintly.
Fahim stepped back, rubbing his wrist, startled but steadying himself.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Maya lowered her hand, realizing what had just happened.
For a second, there was only silence on the livestream—
Confused, almost afraid to move.
The comments surged so quickly that the moderation system struggled to keep up.
"Did anyone else see that?"
"No, seriously. Replay it."
"I DID. SHE MOVED BEFORE HE EVEN TOUCHED HER."
"Fahim's hand wasn't even on her forehead yet!"
"Her body reacted the instant he entered her personal space."
"She MOVED THAT FAST WHILE FEVERISH??"
"Bro her reaction time is NOT human…"
"Did she just disable his arm in ONE second?"
"Someone explain the neck pressure point thing???"
"I think my soul left my body watching that…"
"WHY IS SHE SICK BUT STILL LIKE THIS??"
The camera stayed fixed on the scene, refusing to cut away.
Maya stood near him now, her posture changed. Slightly unsteady.
A faint fatigue returning to her frame, like her body was reminding her of the fever it had been ignoring.
But her eyes… were still alert.
A military analyst in the comments wrote:
"This is autonomic combat response."
Another replied instantly:
"No. This is conditioning at reflex level. She didn't 'choose' that—it happened before thought."
One martial arts instructor posted:
"Most trained fighters need time to recognize danger.
She reacted before recognition was visibly complete."
Another instructor replied:
"That isn't reaction speed, That's conditioned survival response."
The chat didn't calm down—it multiplied.
"Even her SICK reflex is dangerous???"
"She thought he was a threat in 0.2 seconds??"
"That's not training anymore, that's survival programming…"
"Fahim almost got deleted by accident bro 😭"
In another wave of comments, concern started creeping in:
"She's burning with fever and still like this?"
"Why is nobody taking her to bed??"
"Did you see her hands shaking after?"
"She's pushing past limits again…"
The camera zoom didn't move, but the feeling changed.
What was once fascination had turned into unease.
One comment rose rapidly toward the top.
"Normal people wake up confused."
"Maya wakes up combat-ready."
The replies flooded in instantly,
"That's actually horrifying."
"Why would a fifteen-year-old need instincts like that?"
"What kind of environment creates this?
I don't think we're watching someone who learned discipline."
"I think we're watching someone who never had the option of being weak."
Fahim stared at her for a moment, still trying to process what had just happened.
Then his expression hardened,
"Why did you do that?"
"Sorry. I didn't realize it was you."
Fahim opened his mouth to continue, but then noticed something he should have seen immediately.
Her face was unusually pale.
A faint sheen of sweat covered her forehead.
Her breathing wasn't normal.
The irritation vanished from his face.
"Forget that for now," he said, stepping closer.
"How high is your fever?"
"Above 104."
For a second— Fahim froze.
"What?"
"Above 104."
The room seemed to go silent.
Even through the livestream, viewers could see the disbelief on his face.
His medical instincts immediately took over.
The shock on his face became genuine alarm,
"You cooked lunch, you have been walking around the mansion."
"Yes."
"And all that time you had a fever above 104?"
She thought about it for a moment,
"I think it became worse later."
Fahim pressed a hand against his forehead.
He looked like he was developing a headache.
"That's not the point, You should be in bed!"
The comment section exploded.
"THANK YOU FAHIM."
"SOMEONE FINALLY SAID IT."
"HE'S THE ONLY SANE PERSON HERE."
"104°F IS NOT A SMALL FEVER."
"WHY IS SHE ACTING LIKE THIS IS NORMAL?"
Fahim murmured,
"When were you planning to tell someone?"
She is silent.
That silence answered the question.
The viewers collectively lost their minds.
"SHE JUST SAID NO."
"WHY."
"THIS GIRL TREATS A 104 FEVER LIKE A MINOR INCONVENIENCE."
A doctor watching the stream posted:
"A fever above 104°F can be serious. Someone needs to monitor her."
The comment quickly rose to the top.
Meanwhile, Fahim had already moved into full doctor mode, "Don't cook."
"Okay."
"Don't move."
She paused, "...Okay."
The hesitation was enough to make Fahim suspicious,
"You were thinking about something, weren't you?"
"No, " she looked away.
"You hesitated."
The livestream chat erupted with laughter.
"SHE GOT CAUGHT."
"THAT WAS THE MOST SUSPICIOUS 'NO' I'VE EVER SEEN."
"FAHIM IS INTERROGATING A FEVERISH NINJA."
"PROTECT THIS CHILD FROM HERSELF."
Fahim folded his arms and looked directly at Maya.
The doctor in him was concerned.
The brother in him was annoyed.
"Maya."
Maya looked up, "Yes?"
"How long have you had this fever?"
Maya thought for a moment,
"I'm not sure."
Fahim closed his eyes.
That was not the answer he wanted,
"You felt sick and didn't tell anyone?"
"No."
"You have a phone, you could have informed me."
"Yes."
"You could have informed Rahi."
"Yes."
Fahim stared at her, "Then why didn't you?"
She is silent for several seconds,
"I didn't think it was important."
Fahim nearly lost the battle against his patience, "Not important?
Your fever is above one hundred and four degrees."
Maya nodded.
"And you thought that wasn't important?"
"Yes."
The answer came so calmly that it somehow made everything worse.
Fahim rubbed his forehead,
"I don't know whether to be impressed or concerned."
"Concerned. "
For a moment, Fahim just stared.
Then, despite himself, he laughed once,
"At least you're aware of that."
Meanwhile, the livestream audience had completely turned against Maya.
The comments flooded the screen faster than ever.
"MAYA, THIS IS NOT OKAY."
"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ANYONE?"
"A PHONE EXISTS FOR A REASON."
"I'M WITH FAHIM."
"SHE DESERVES THIS LECTURE."
Another comment appeared.
"She trained for hours with a 104°F fever."
Replies instantly followed.
"That isn't dedication."
"That's stubbornness."
"EXTREME stubbornness."
One viewer wrote:
"Maya, if you're reading comments later, please understand that fevers are not optional side quests."
The comment immediately became popular.
Another viewer added:
"She literally cooked lunch, cleaned an entire training ground, exercised for hours, and then casually forgot to mention she's sick."
Someone replied: "Forgot?"
"She intentionally said nothing."
The audience became increasingly dramatic.
"CONFISCATE HER PHONE."
"No."
"CONFISCATE HER ABILITY TO MAKE DECISIONS."
Thousands agreed.
Even medical professionals watching the stream joined in.
One doctor commented:
"If a patient told me they exercised for hours with a 104°F fever, I would have many questions."
Another replied:
"My first question would be: 'Why?'"
A third added:
"My second question would be: 'Seriously, why?'"
Back in the living room,
"You need to tell people when you're sick."
"Okay."
"And not after the fact."
"Okay."
"And not when someone discovers it accidentally."
"Okay."
"And definitely not after spending half the day acting like nothing happened."
"Okay."
The replies came obediently.
Fahim narrowed his eyes,
"You aren't just saying 'okay' so I'll stop talking, right?"
Maya looked away.
That was all the answer he needed.
The livestream exploded again.
"SHE'S ABSOLUTELY JUST SAYING OKAY."
"FAHIM KNOWS."
"WE KNOW."
"BUT SHE DON'T KNOW That WE KNOW."
One final comment climbed rapidly toward the top:
"Today's stream started with us watching Maya train like a machine."
"It ended with us discovering she's actually a stubborn fifteen-year-old who refuses to tell anyone she's sick."
The replies poured in.
"Most accurate comment of the day."
"100%."
"Fahim, please continue the lecture."
"We support your mission."
Fahim returned a few minutes later with medicine and a glass of water, "Maya."
Maya looked up.
He handed her the medicine, "Take it."
Without argument, she took the medicine and drank the water.
The entire livestream seemed relieved.
Comments immediately appeared:
"Finally."
"Thank goodness."
"One responsible person has arrived."
"Doctor brother for the win."
After making sure she had taken everything properly, Fahim headed toward the dining table to eat lunch.
For a few minutes, the living room became quiet or at least it seemed quiet.
Because she slowly reached for her sketchbook again and picked up her pencil.
Opened the page and began drawing.
Scratch.... Scratch.... Scratch.
The movement was so casual that it almost looked like she thought nobody would notice.
Unfortunately for her—
Fahim noticed Immediately, "Maya."
The pencil stopped. Slowly, she looked toward him.
"What are you doing?"
"Drawing."
Fahim pointed toward the sketchbook,
"I told you to rest."
Maya blinked, "I'm sitting."
The livestream chat exploded.
"HAHAHAHA."
"TECHNICALLY SHE'S RIGHT."
"THAT IS NOT WHAT HE MEANT."
"MAYA FOUND A LOOPHOLE."
Fahim looked completely unimpressed,
"No drawing."
Silence.
She folded her hands in her lap, "Okay."
The scene somehow made everyone laugh.
The girl who had spent hours performing brutal training exercises.
The girl who moved with frightening speed.
The girl who could remain calm under pressure.
Was now sitting quietly on the sofa because her older brother told her to stop drawing.
Comments flooded the stream.
"She looks like a student who got caught talking in class."
"Why is this the funniest thing today?"
"Fahim defeated her with parental authority."
"Military training: survives.
High fever: ignores."
"Older brother saying 'No': immediate compliance."
Even Fahim looked amused.
He tried to hide it while eating, but the corner of his mouth twitched.
Across the living room, she sat silently.
After about thirty seconds, viewers could almost see the boredom settling in.
The comments became even more chaotic.
"She's suffering."
"Look at her."
"She's being forced to experience rest."
"This is clearly the hardest challenge she's faced all day."
The longer she sat there, the funnier it became.
Every few moments, her eyes would drift toward the sketchbook lying on the nearby table.
Then toward the pencil, then back toward Fahim.
Who immediately noticed every time,
"Maya."
Her gaze instantly moved away.
The livestream chat exploded.
"SHE WAS CAUGHT AGAIN."
"I SAW THAT."
"SHE LOOKED AT THE SKETCHBOOK."
"Fahim has developed sixth sense."
Another comment appeared:
"She's like a cat staring at something she's been told not to touch."
Thousands agreed.
"HE DIDN'T EVEN LOOK."
"HOW DID HE KNOW?"
"THIS MAN CAN READ HER THOUGHTS."
"Maya: looks at the book .
Fahim: Absolutely not."
"She's being supervised like a highly intelligent escape artist."
"Doctor's orders are stronger than martial arts."
"Today's biggest battle: Maya vs. Rest.
Current winner: Fahim."
That comment shot toward the top.
She shifted slightly on the sofa adjusted her position and sat back down.
The front door opened.
Fahan stepped into the mansion, dropping his bag near the entrance, "Hey, I'm home."
The living room was unusually quiet.
His eyes immediately found Maya.
She was sitting on the sofa with her eyes closed, completely motionless.
Fahan stopped, "...That's strange."
Normally, whenever he saw her , she was sketching or reading.
Seeing her sit so still was unusual.
He walked closer, "Maya?"
No response.
"What happened to her? "
Fahan glanced around, "Is she asleep sitting up?"
He chuckled.
"You are really cute. "
The moment he smiled and said,
"You are really cute."
The livestream chat exploded.
Comments flooded the screen.
"HE SAID IT."
"HAHAHAHA."
"SHE'S BEEN DEFEATED."
"FROM 'MILITARY PHENOMENON' TO 'CUTE' IN FIVE SECONDS."
"Someone save him."
Another comment shot to the top.
"A few hours ago she terrified military analysts. Now her brother is calling her cute. What a site . "
Thousands of likes appeared within seconds.
Replies poured in.
"THIS FAMILY HAS NO FEAR."
"ONLY FAMILY CAN DO THIS."
Another viewer wrote,
"She trained like a special forces operator. Cooked restaurant-quality biryani. Ignored a 104°F fever."
"Got scolded by her doctor brother and now she's officially been promoted to 'cute.'"
The replies were relentless.
"THIS IS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT."
"THE MOST DANGEROUS PERSON IN THE HOUSE IS ALSO THE CUTEST."
"I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING."
One popular comment read,
"Fahan looked at a girl who accidentally disarmed a doctor this afternoon.....and decided the correct description was 'cute.'"
The internet loved it.
"HE'S NOT WRONG."
"LOOK AT HER SITTING THERE."
"SHE LOOKS SO OFFENDED."
"SHE'S LITERALLY SULKING."
Another comment climbed rapidly.
"Military experts: 'She is an anomaly.'
Fahan: 'Cute.'"
The entire chat dissolved into laughter.
"I'M SAVING THAT."
"BEST SUMMARY OF TODAY'S STREAM."
"THIS FAMILY IS IMPOSSIBLE."
"BRO CHOSE DEATH."
"HE HAS A DEATH WISH."
"EVERYONE IN THIS FAMILY WANTS TO DIE."
"FIRST Fahim, NOW FAHAN."
"WHY DOES THIS FAMILY HAVE ZERO FEAR? DO THEY NOT VALUE THEIR LIVES?"
Another comment immediately shot to the top.
"Joining the Sunayana family apparently requires signing a waiver that says: 'I am comfortable provoking Maya.'"
Thousands of likes appeared in seconds.
Replies flooded beneath it.
"THEY'RE ALL FEARLESS OR THEY'RE ALL INSANE."
Another viewer wrote:
"Normal people: 'Be careful around Maya.'
Her brother : 'Cute.'"
The chat lost control.
"THEY HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO SURVIVAL INSTINCTS."
"EVERY MEMBER OF THIS FAMILY IS BUILT DIFFERENT.
SOMEONE PLEASE CHECK IF THEY HAVE LIFE INSURANCE."
Another comment shot to the top.
"Breaking News: Another Sunayana family member has volunteered as tribute."
Replies poured in.
"REST IN PEACE."
"WE GATHER HERE TODAY..."
"START WRITING THE OBITUARY."
"IT WAS NICE KNOWING HIM."