The night after "the incident" — which we won't elaborate on because the narrator is still processing therapy paperwork — began quietly.
Bug sat at the table, sipping something blacker than his humor. "So… turns out," he said, "those guys last night? Assassins."
Everyone froze.
Spirit blinked. "Assassins?"
Bug nodded casually. "Yup. Sent to kill the kid for some reason."
Ember, rubbing her temples: "Why?"
Bug shrugged. "Dunno. When we tried asking, they killed themselves."
A beat of silence.
Spirit squinted. "Wait. They killed themselves?"
Bug nodded again. "Yup."
Ember: "Why??"
Bug: "No clue. They just… did."
The narrator sighed.
"A+ explanation. Truly enlightening. I feel like I've learned absolutely nothing."
Bug turned to the kid, who'd been quiet the whole time.
"So… you someone important?"
The kid hesitated. "A little."
Spirit crossed her arms. "Ah yes, understandable. Totally normal for 'a little important' kid to have a murder squad sent after him."
Ember frowned. "Are your parents alive?"
The kid nodded. "Yeah."
Spirit blinked. "Didn't you say your family died?"
The kid nodded again. "Yeah."
The narrator sighed deeply, already regretting his job.
"Right. So apparently this kid doesn't know parents are family. We're off to a great start, everyone."
Strategic Decisions and Sleep Deprivation
Ember stood, stretching. "I need to ask Sophia about this."
Bug waved a hand lazily. "Y'all should probably get some sleep."
Spirit tilted her glowing head. "What about you?"
Bug grinned. "Me and Nyxar will keep watch. Just in case more 'uninvited guests' show up."
Nyxar said nothing — just turned his head slightly, eyes glinting faintly in the dark, which somehow said 'I was going to do that anyway.'
So Ember and Spirit led the kid upstairs, while Nyxar and Bug climbed onto the roof.
Below, the two steel bears prowled the halls like silent sentinels.
The three mantises faded into the forest, shadows among shadows.
Up on the roof, Bug leaned back, hands behind his head. "You ever gonna sleep, man?"
Nyxar blinked slowly. "Sleep is optional."
Bug snorted. "Right. Because being normal is too mainstream for you."
The night passed in silence — or, well, Nyxar-silence. Which is basically the sound of danger quietly observing the horizon.
Then the sky cracked open with morning light.
The camera tilted up toward the sunrise, time speeding until dawn shimmered across the house.
"A beautiful moment," said the narrator, "ruined only by the fact that Nyxar hasn't blinked in five hours."
Morning Confusion (and Bears)
Nyxar finally moved. "That's enough."
He ordered the mantises back. They emerged from the trees, bowed (because apparently they're polite now), and dissolved into mist.
Nyxar and Bug jumped down, landing like they'd just teleported from a cooler anime.
Inside, Ember and Spirit were trying — and failing — to calm the kid, who was currently screaming into a pillow.
Nyxar blinked. "What's wrong with him?"
Ember sighed. "He's scared of the bears."
Both Nyxar and Bug turned, genuinely baffled.
"Why?" they said in perfect sync.
Spirit gestured dramatically. "Maybe because normal people don't wake up to two giant armored murder-bears patrolling their living room!"
Nyxar blinked again. "They won't attack unless I tell them to."
Bug nodded. "Yeah, totally safe."
The kid, clutching the couch: "They're literally growling."
"Fair point," muttered the narrator. "If I woke up to two sentient steel bears, I'd cry too."
How to Tame Fear, Nyxar Edition
Nyxar looked at the boy, thinking. "How long is he staying here?"
Ember, instantly defensive: "As long as he needs to."
Nyxar tilted his head, processing that like an alien learning empathy.
Then he crouched down, extending a hand. "Kid. Come here."
The kid looked between the bears and Nyxar — terrified of both — but decided one looked slightly less likely to eat him.
He shuffled forward, trembling.
"Hand," Nyxar said.
The kid closed his eyes, gave his arm, bracing for… something bad.
But instead — a gentle warmth.
He opened his eyes to see Nyxar's palm resting softly on one of the bears' heads.
The massive beast didn't growl. Didn't move.
Just stared back at the kid, calm, waiting.
Slowly, the boy reached out. His hand brushed the bear's fur — surprisingly soft for something made of steel.
The bear let out a low chuff, like a metallic purr.
The kid's fear melted into wonder. Soon he was scratching the bear's head, giggling softly as the creature rumbled like a giant cat.
Ember stared, dumbfounded. "I spent all night trying to calm him down, and you just… fixed it?"
Nyxar shrugged. "Best way to stop being afraid is to face it."
Spirit raised a glowing brow. "Where the hell did you hear that?"
Nyxar silently pointed to Bug.
Bug puffed his chest. "Heard that from the old man."
Ember blinked. "You mean Edward?"
Bug nodded proudly. "Yup."
Ember sighed. "Right. Maybe don't listen to everything he says."
Tiny Miracles
Nyxar turned toward the bears. "Desummon."
"Wait," Ember said, glancing at the kid, who was happily hugging both enormous creatures. "He's… kind of distracted right now."
Nyxar paused. He watched the boy giggling, face buried in steel fur.
Then, with a thought, the bears dissolved — soft black mist curling into his spellbook.
The boy's smile faded, replaced by disappointment.
Nyxar tilted his head — then summoned one bear again, but this time miniature. Barely the size of a plush toy.
The tiny bear waddled over, tilted its little head, and made a high-pitched "grr."
The kid's face lit up like sunrise.
He scooped it up, hugging it tight.
Ember just sighed — part relief, part disbelief. "How do you keep doing that?"
Nyxar: "He looked sad."
The narrator groaned.
"You know what? Fine. The socially emotionless summon-mancer now runs a part-time daycare. This is our life now."
Bug laughed quietly. "Guess the kid's safe now."
Spirit crossed her arms. "Safe, sure. Mentally stable? Not a chance."