Steam rose gently from the pan as Phaser flipped the last pancake with the kind of precision that came only from someone who'd done it a thousand times before. The scent of warm butter, golden batter and sweet syrup filled the air. Outside the frosted windows, snow was still falling softly.
At the kitchen table, Esmodra sat quietly. Her legs were tucked beneath her on the chair with her fluffy white slippers peeking out. A cup of coffee was in her hands. On her plate were sausages and sandwiches.
Phaser—Nihris, as he called himself now—moved easily around the kitchen, humming a tune under his breath. The apron tied around his waist looked almost absurd on him yet somehow, it fit him. He finally looked over his shoulder at her and asked casually.
"So… what's your name, anyway?"
Esmodra hesitated. "I… don't have one."
The spatula paused midair. He glanced back at her, one eyebrow raised.
"You don't have a name?"
She shook her head, eyes on her coffee.
"They… never gave us names. Only numbers. I was Experiment 09-C."
"Figures. Bureaucratic monsters can't even name people. Alright then… Esmodra."
She blinked in confusion. "Esmodra?"
He slid the last pancake onto the plate and shut off the stove.
"Yeah. That was the codename I chose for you once you joined the Ophaniels. Thought it sounded nice. You can use it if you want."
Esmodra stared at the table for a long moment, her fingers tightening around her cup. Then, quietly, she chuckled.
"Thank you."
Nihris grinned and set a plate stacked with golden pancakes in front of her.
"You can thank me after you eat all this. You look like a stiff breeze could knock you over."
She gave a tiny laugh. As she reached for the syrup, her eyes caught the dark markings that wound around his forearms. Black, thorned tendrils curled along his skin.
"Those tattoos. They're… strange. Are they like mine?"
He glanced down at his arms as if he'd forgotten they were even there.
"Oh, these? Yeah. It's not ink, though. It's more like Xana."
After a moment, she looked at her own hands.
"What about these? What did Observa mean about an… Archeon choosing me?"
Nihris rested his chin on his hand and smiled faintly.
"Ah, that. You got lucky... or unlucky, depending how you look at it."
He tapped the table once and a small projection appeared between them. Two elegant silver gloves appeared in front of her.
"The Silver Gloves of Infinite Possibility. It's an Archeon. They enhance, protect, or destroy, depending on what kind of person you are."
She looked at him uncertainly. "And they… chose me?"
"Seems so. You must've caught their eye during that mess at the facility. Don't worry, they won't eat you alive. Probably."
Esmodra frowned at him. "Probably?"
"Kidding. You're fine. I checked your vitals myself. If it were going to consume you, you would have turned to dust the moment you woke up."
"That's not very comforting."
For a while, the only sounds were the quiet clinking of utensils and the faint static hum of Observa running background processes somewhere in the palace. Then Nihris gestured at her plate.
"Eat more. You barely touched anything but coffee. You'll never recover like that."
She sighed and obediently took a bite of pancake. Her eyes widened a little.
"This is… good."
"Of course it is. I've lived a long time. You learn to cook when you can't trust people not to poison you."
Her fork froze midair. "Excuse me?"
He laughed out loud, nearly choking on his own food.
"I'm kidding! Relax. Sort of."
The tension drained out of her shoulders as she gave him an unimpressed look.
"You have a strange sense of humor."
"Blame the boredom. I've seen enough of people repeating the same mistakes. Humor's the only thing that keeps you from going insane, believe me."
She tilted her head. "How old are you exactly?"
"Old enough to have watched the invention of instant noodles. You're 18, right?"
"That's… not an answer."
"Exactly."
A soft ping interrupted them, and a holographic screen blinked into existence in front of them. Observa's voice chimed politely:
"Master Nihris, I've queued the news footage you requested."
"Perfect. Play it."
The hologram flickered, showing a Russian news broadcast. The anchor spoke in a crisp tone.
"A hidden research facility has been uncovered in the Siberian tundra. Reports indicate over one hundred test subjects have been found deceased. The World Forces have begun investigating the Russian government, as records suggest it was state-sponsored. All classified data was leaked by an anonymous source calling themselves The Ophaniels."
The anchor's tone dropped.
"Authorities have confirmed that the organization has taken responsibility for exposing the atrocities, stating their intent to bring every hidden facility to light and free all surviving subjects."
The screen faded out.
"See? The dominoes are already falling. Governments, corporations, they'll be too busy tearing each other apart to build new labs for a while. The World Forces will handle the cleanup."
Esmodra stared at the blank hologram for a long time before saying quietly.
"Thank you… for doing that."
"Don't thank me. I didn't do it for justice or morals or whatever you're thinking. I just hate rotten people in power."
Still, she smiled faintly. "You're strange, Nihris."
"My real name is Phaser, but I would prefer if you call me Nihris for identity concerns. Only Observa calls me Nihris. And 'Master' when he's feeling dramatic."
"I heard that," Observa's voice said from the ceiling.
"Good."
A comfortable silence fell again. Esmodra finally spoke, softly:
"They all planned to die, you know. Even when we escaped. My sister… she said there was no other way out. I guess I was the only one who got lucky."
Phaser didn't interrupt. He just listened.
"I'm… not sad. It's strange. I thought I would be. But I think… I'm just relieved it's over."
Phaser nodded slowly. "That's not strange. It's survival. Loss doesn't always mean grief. Sometimes it's just… silence after too much noise."
She looked down at her coffee again.
"You're not what I expected."
"I get that a lot. Now finish your breakfast. You're still too weak to stand against gravity, let alone a snowstorm."
She rolled her eyes but obeyed, taking another bite. Phaser smiled to himself, watching her eat.
"There you go. See? You're already part of the Ophaniels now. You're eating like a normal person."
She laughed softly, the sound echoing gently in the quiet kitchen. And for the first time in her life, Esmodra felt warm, even as the snow fell endlessly outside the Chronological Palace.