The sun rose over the BGC skyline, hitting the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse with a golden glow. For most people, it was a fresh start. For Rina, it was the beginning of a social apocalypse.
She marched into the kitchen, hair a mess and eyes fixed on the coffee machine. She just wanted a caffeine hit before starting her morning system diagnostics.
"Good morning, Basement Queen," Philip chirped. He was leaning casually against the counter, holding a single, dried-up flower he'd salvaged from the hallway floor.
Rina's hand froze over her mug. "Philip, if you value your life, you will never use that phrase again."
"Why not?" Philip asked, holding the flower aloft like a sacred relic. "In fact, I prepared a special breakfast for you. It's an 'Everlasting Omelet.' It's made with love and... wait, let me check... yup, it's 100% guaranteed not to wilt. Just like his love."
"Philip!" Rina hissed.
"Master," Phenphen's voice echoed through the kitchen speakers, loud enough for the neighbors to hear. "I've updated the apartment's directory. Room 302 is no longer 'Architectural Lead.' It is now officially registered as 'The Royal Basement Chambers.' Should I play a trumpet fanfare every time the door opens?"
"Do it, Phenphen," Chano said, walking in with a wide, mischievous grin. He looked better rested than he had in weeks. "And make sure the fanfare sounds slightly... greasy."
The Morning Briefing
The team eventually gathered at the dining table. Bella sat at the head, looking professional as always, but even she had a slight twitch at the corner of her mouth as she reviewed the security footage.
Marco, usually the most stoic man in the country, stood by the door. As Rina walked in, he cleared his throat and stood perfectly straight.
"Ma'am Rina," Marco said with a completely deadpan expression. "I've doubled the security on the basement levels. We wouldn't want any 'souls connecting' while you're parked. I've also instructed the guards to look out for anyone smelling like a perfume factory explosion."
Rina slammed her laptop onto the table. "Not you too, Marco! You're supposed to be the serious one!"
"I am serious," Marco replied, though his eyes twinkled. "I'm also checking if we need a 'No Labobo' sign for the lobby."
"Guys, focus," Chano said, though he was clearly struggling to keep a straight face. "We have work to do. We need to analyze the Scorpion Group's latest moves and calibrate the tower's defenses. But most importantly..."
He paused, leaning forward to look Rina directly in the eyes.
"...we need to find a place to display the Labobo. Philip wants to put it in the center of the living room as a monument to your 'sleeping heart' that has finally been awakened."
"I will burn that plushie," Rina whispered, her face turning a deep, burning shade of crimson. "I will burn it, and then I will hack the ashes so they can never be reconstituted."
Digital Sabotage
Even the digital world wasn't safe. As Rina opened her private server to check the encryption logs, a giant pop-up appeared on her main monitor. It was a high-resolution photo of the three-eared Labobo with a speech bubble that read: "I'm not fake, I'm just unique... like our love!"
"PHENPHEN!" Rina's scream echoed through the penthouse.
"I'm sorry, Queen Rina," Phenphen replied, sounding completely unrepentant. "My core logic dictated that your firewall was lacking a 'romantic' layer. I've also replaced all your error messages with the sound of a squeaky plushie."
Chano walked by, ruffling Rina's hair as she groaned in frustration. "Cheer up, Rina. At least you know that even if the world's most dangerous hackers come after us, they'll have to get past your number one fan in a tight tuxedo first."
"I hate all of you," Rina muttered, though she didn't pull away from Chano's hand. "Except maybe the Labobo. At least the Labobo doesn't talk."
"Oh, I can fix that!" Philip shouted from the other room. "I'm installing a voice box in it right now! Every time you walk past it, it's going to scream: 'Only you have awakened my sleeping heart!'"
Rina buried her face in her arms. Between the billionaire, the legend, and the two lunatics in the hallway, she realized she hadn't just moved into a headquarters—she'd moved into an asylum. It was going to be a very long day.