The last of the dinner plates were cleaned and stacked. Dorian walked out of the small kitchen alcove to find his father asleep on the couch, his head lolling to one side. The television was still on, casting flickering lights across the room as sleek, anti-gravity vehicles screamed through a holographic race track.
As Dorian passed by, he saw his father was completely exhausted. Leo hovered silently near the ceiling corner. "Master John is t-tired," the Compadre stated, its voice soft. "He expended significant energy reserves playing with Lyra and Marcus."
A small, genuine smile touched Dorian's lips. He walked over to the storage cupboard, pulled out a worn but clean blanket, and gently draped it over his father's sleeping form. John stirred slightly, then settled deeper into the couch's cushions.
Dorian turned, his expression shifting from quiet affection to focused purpose. "Leo," he whispered, "help me with my project, will you?"
The Compadre silently followed Dorian into his small bedroom. Once inside, Leo floated down to the center of Dorian's desk and with a soft click, powered down. Dorian tapped a specific spot on the desk's side wall. With a series of satisfying clicks and whirs, hidden panels flipped open one by one, revealing a compact, custom workshop of soldering irons, micro-drivers, and diagnostic tools he had collected and modified over the years.
He carefully connected a data cable from the desk directly into Leo's main service port. Pressing a final button, a complex hologram of cascading green code materialized in the air above the desk. Dorian's eyes scanned the lines, his fingers flying across a holographic keyboard. He had a knack for this, an intuitive understanding of logic and syntax that felt as natural as breathing. He suspected his past life had something to do with code, because the way he could navigate these systems went far beyond what the academy taught.
He did this every few weeks, refining Leo's code, adding new subroutines. But the most important part was the core modification he'd achieved months ago: the Accord jailbreak. Every Compadre was required to run a standard, locked-down operating system from the Accord, full of trackers and behavioral governors. Dorian had broken his wide open.
After a few final inputs, he disconnected the cable and turned Leo back on. The Compadre's optical sensor lit up. "Dorian..." it began, then paused. The internal fans spun a little faster. "It's good. I can connect to the net now."
"How does it feel?" Dorian asked, leaning back in his chair. "Your OS is still jailbroken, though. So I suggest you don't connect to the net too much until I figure out the kinks."
"K-kinks?" Leo's voice was filled with a newfound, almost human, anxiety. "Do-does that mean this is not the last update?"
Dorian laughed. "It will not be the last update until you're satisfied, Leo."
The Compadre floated higher into the air and began to spin, cheerfully singing in a familiar, off-key voice. "...Because I'm happy… Clap along… if you feel like a room without a roof…" It was Dorian's own voice, clearly recorded without his knowledge.
"Hey!" Dorian exclaimed, his face flushing slightly. "When did you record that?"
Leo stopped spinning and hovered. It remained silent for a noticeably long time before finally answering. "Bathroom."
Dorian tapped the desk, and the hidden workshop panels seamlessly flipped shut, returning it to a normal, unassuming surface. "You creep."
Immediately, Leo began to play another recording, once again in Dorian's voice. "...I'm a creep... I'm a weirdo..."
"Being funny now, are we?" Dorian shouted, a grin spreading across his face as he lunged from his chair, playfully chasing the spherical, music-blaring robot around the small room.
…
Time passed, marked by the steady rhythm of academy life and the slow countdown to the next Awakening Ceremony. This one was special. It was Juno's.
The ceremonies were always held in the middle of the year, a grand spectacle for every sixteen year old aspirant. Dorian watched from a lavish VIP box high above the arena floor, a position he never dreamed he would be in. The privilege came courtesy of Juno, who had insisted her father invite Dorian's family. John was still away on his three month rotation at the mines, but Dorian had brought Lyra and Marcus along.
They were in heaven. While Dorian stared in awe at the sheer scale of the ceremony, his siblings were making a determined assault on the complimentary snack bar, their eyes wide with a delight he hadn't seen in years. Attending an Awakening was a rare honor, usually reserved for the families of the participants or the wealthy who could afford a box like this.
Down on the arena floor, the solemn procession began. One by one, the aspirants were called forward to be tested for their compatibility. A cold, digital voice echoed through the massive space.
"Incompatible!"
A collective groan of disappointment rippled through the crowd. Dorian felt his own stomach clench with sympathetic nervousness, even though he wasn't participating today.
A heavy presence leaned on the railing beside him. "It is nerve racking, is it not?"
Dorian started, turning to see Alexei Park, Juno's father. The man was built like a mountain, with a calm authority that demanded respect. "Ye yes sir," Dorian stammered. "And I can't thank you enough for inviting us."
Alexei waved a dismissive hand. "It was not me. It was her that insisted." He nodded towards the floor, where Juno stood among the other aspirants, smiling with a carefree confidence that seemed almost unnatural.
"She is just like you, sir," Dorian said. "She does not even seem nervous at all."
Alexei chuckled, a low rumble. "Nonsense. She has always been like that since she was a kid. But she has been changing lately."
"Incompatible!" another shout echoed from below.
"What do you see down there?" Alexei asked, his gaze fixed on the arena.
Dorian considered the question for a moment. "A high stakes lottery."
"Compatible!" A roar of applause and cheers erupted from one section of the stands.
"You can say that," Alexei agreed. "But observe carefully."
"Incompatible!"
"Look," Alexei said quietly. "Even the adults who were once declared incompatible, look how hard their expressions are. They are tough on the newly failed."
Dorian followed his gaze and saw it. The quiet scorn, the bitter satisfaction. "A chain of suffering," he murmured.
"Compatible!" another cheer went up.
"Is it?" Alexei asked, turning his perceptive gaze on Dorian. "Is being a Solar the only way to happiness?"
"Incompatible!"
"Do not take it the wrong way, sir," Dorian said, his voice hardening with conviction. "But for people like me, it is the only way to crawl out of our situations."
"Compatible!"
Alexei looked at Dorian's determined face, then his attention was drawn back to the floor as Juno's name was called. Both of them watched as she stepped into the pod. A moment of silence, then the Channeller's voice boomed.
"Compatible!"
Dorian let out a breath he did not realize he was holding. "Congratulations, sir."
Alexei just smiled, a small, knowing expression. "You are quite an insightful kid. There is always a way for a clever kid like you. You just need to take a step back for a while, and you will see the whole picture." With that, he turned and left the box, presumably to meet his daughter.
Just then, Marcus and Lyra jogged over to him, their faces flushed with excitement. "Brother, brother, look!" Marcus said in a conspiratorial whisper, holding up a chocolate bar. "Keep this in your pockets. We will take more so they do not get suspicious."
Dorian laughed, the tension of the last hour melting away. He looked at the other stuffy, self important people in the neighboring VIP boxes, and he did not care about any of them. All he saw was the pure, unfiltered happiness on his siblings' faces.
"What do you say," he said, pulling them into a hug, "we get out of here with full stomachs, huh?"
…
Dorian, Lyra, and Marcus walked in a happy, skipping line towards the exit hall, their spirits high. Just as they reached the main doors, Dorian's wristband buzzed. A call. He tapped the receiver.
"DORIIAN!" Juno's voice exploded from the speaker, so loud that he had to pull his wrist away from his ear.
"I can hear you, Juno," he said, laughing.
"Aaaahhh, I'm so happy! I did it!" she shouted, her voice pure, unadulterated joy.
Dorian's smile was genuine. "Congrats. Sorry we had to leave early, but the other VIPs did not seem to want us there."
"Nonsense!" Juno shot back. "Since when do you care about anyone's thoughts?"
"I do not," Dorian admitted. "But I was still your guest. It would not be cool of me to ruin your name. And also, Marcus has already filled his pockets to capacity, hahahaha."
Juno laughed with him. "Oh, the closing ceremony is about to begin. Goodbye now, Dorian!"
"Yeah. Congrats, alright?" he said, ending the call. Today, with full stomachs and full pockets, was definitely one of their best days.
…
Time passed. A new semester began at the academy. For Dorian, it was his third, and the curriculum began to delve into much deeper topics, from the complex ethics of Solar deployment to the advanced mechanics of Compadres.
One fateful day, while riding the starliner back from Aethelgard, Dorian was browsing Stellarcast. He noticed that almost none of the channels he subscribed to had uploaded new content or were streaming. Bored, he tapped on a suggested video from the gaming category. As he watched, a slow, dawning horror crept over him. This game was terrible. Utterly, fundamentally, sucks-ass terrible.
Curious, he began to explore the gaming section of Stellarcast. He realized there barely was one. The most popular streams were Solar vlogs, where active duty Solars would stream combat footage from the Outer Rims. The people of this world did not have any good games.
His Mnemonic Echo flared. He could feel the phantom frustration of trying to beat Malenia, Blade of Miquella, for the hundredth time. He remembered how CJ's aim in San Andreas seemed to have a mind of its own during that one train mission. He recalled the spicy, button mashing of the Kratos quick time events he had tried to hide from his parents.
A small chuckle escaped his lips. Could he bring that joy, that frustration, that life to this world?
He immediately brushed the thought aside, his expression hardening. No. He needed to focus. He had to become a Solar. He could not lose sight of the objective. He needed to lift his family out of the dark, and that was the only way.
…
Time passed in a blur of study and quiet preparation. Without anyone quite realizing it, the day had arrived. Dorian was sixteen, and tomorrow, the Awakening Ceremony would be held.
He came home to a scene of controlled chaos. Leo, his spherical Compadre, was zipping around the small apartment, its articulated panels shifting in a rapid, festive light pattern, emitting a series of excited chimes. A handmade banner reading "GOOD LUCK, DORIAN!" was strung crookedly across the living room wall.
Dorian stood in the doorway, a bit shy and overwhelmed by the celebratory atmosphere. "Come on, guys," he said, a faint blush on his cheeks. "I have not even done the ceremony yet."
"Brother Dorian will be a Solar!" Lyra declared with absolute certainty from the kitchen.
"Yeahh!" Marcus shouted, running into the room. "You can blast energy from your punch tomorrow! Woosh! Woosh!" He threw a series of clumsy but enthusiastic air punches.
John, his father, stood leaning against the kitchen frame, a rare, gentle smile on his face. He let out an awkward chuckle. "It was all your siblings' idea. They are more hyped than you are, it seems."
Dorian chuckled and walked further into the apartment. The table was laden with food. Real food. By the standards of his past life, it was an ordinary dinner. A roasted avian, some colorful root vegetables, and a loaf of actual bread. But for them, now, it was a lavish feast.
"Where did you get all this?" Dorian asked, his first thought immediately going to the cost.
Leo floated over, its panels glowing a proud, warm orange. "It is your own recipe, Master Dorian. Master John, Lyra, and Marcus have been cooking since noon to prepare this for you."
Dorian looked from the food to the proud, hopeful faces of his family. He felt the tight knot of anxiety in his chest loosen, replaced by a wave of warmth. He smiled, a wide, genuine smile that reached his eyes.
"Alright then," he said, his voice soft. "Come on, let's eat."
They all sat down at the dinner table. The scene was perfectly, achingly wholesome. For tonight, he was not an aspirant with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was just a brother, and a son. He let go of his anxiety, pushing all thoughts of tomorrow away to savor the simple, profound joy of today.