There was silence.
Then Lira groaned, grabbed her forehead dramatically, and dragged herself toward the window like a defeated war general. Sunlight streamed in, backlighting her silhouette—the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips, the way her shirt rode up just slightly to show a sliver of skin above her shorts.
"Well... guess I'm picking up double shifts again."
"You know," the younger woman said suddenly, leaning back in her chair with a playful smirk that made her look both mischievous and devastatingly attractive, "if I ever get a boyfriend, he's gonna have to be the richest man in the world just to afford keeping up with my expensive taste in education."
She stretched her arms above her head—back arching, chest pushing forward, the thin fabric of her tank top straining dangerously across her breasts. The movement was casual, unconscious, but devastatingly effective.
Lira snorted, turning back with an amused expression. "Oh really? And what makes you think some rich guy would want to deal with you?"
"Please." The blonde flipped her hair over her shoulder, the golden waves catching the morning light. "I'm a catch. Smart, gorgeous, about to be a certified hero—" She counted on her fingers, each point accompanied by a little bounce that made certain parts of her anatomy jiggle. "And I can cook. Kinda."
"You burned ramen last week."
"That was one time."
Lira laughed, walking back over and holding her sister's hand gently. Her fingers were small but strong, calloused from work but still soft where it mattered.
"You don't worry about anything. You just study and shine, okay? I'll handle the money. You handle becoming amazing."
She led her to the small altar shelf in the living room, where two framed photos rested—one of a smiling woman in a chef's apron, the other of a quiet man in a hero patrol uniform.
Both women stopped before it, hands clasped together in prayer, eyes closed.
The younger sister's lips moved silently, blonde lashes resting against flushed cheeks. In the morning light, she looked ethereal—beautiful, hopeful, on the verge of becoming something extraordinary.
Just weeks away from nineteen. Just weeks away from everything changing.
"You don't need to fear, Mom, Dad," Lira whispered softly, her voice thick with emotion. "I'll work harder at the restaurant. She'll do the rest."
The younger woman looked up at her, blue eyes filled with affection and gratitude. Her lips parted.
She almost said it.
Almost told her that just before she woke up, something inside her had lit up. That the world felt different now. Lighter. Quieter. Like she could feel electricity in her fingertips or hear colors in motion.
That she'd awakened.
But then—
Her sister shoved another piece of bread into her mouth with a grin.
"Alright, brainiac, one more slice for good luck!"
The younger one blinked, then laughed—because of course.
Of course she'd ruin the moment.
"Mphh!"
"Maybe tomorrow," she thought, cheeks stuffed once again, crumbs sticking to her glossy lips.
Maybe tomorrow, she'd tell her.
That she had awakened. That she was special now.
But for now?
It was just breakfast. And that was enough.
As she laughed—eyes crinkling at the corners, chest bouncing with each giggle—she glanced one last time at the photo frame belonging to her parents. The memories resurfaced like ghosts she couldn't quite shake.
Even though she'd been just six years old—standing in their destroyed home holding a teddy bear—she remembered watching her strong big sister cry for the first time.
That image had never left her.
The determination it sparked had never faded.
'I will punish all the supervillains and beat the ones who took you away, Dad...'
---
'Neuril has yet to register in any of the foundation programs.'
Cruxius muttered, finally closing his laptop. He glanced at the nearby clock—two hours had passed since Thalia had woken up.
Stretching his back with a low groan, he pulled out a pendrive from the laptop and handed it to Darithi, adding, "Collect all the details about the names I mentioned. The area is vague since I can't pinpoint it exactly, and appearances aren't fixed either, so you just have names."
"...Yes," Darithi nodded, taking the pendrive. She had seen her master writing down names while going through a list of superheroes. Clearly, these names weren't on that list.
He didn't seem too inquisitive either—just enough to get the task started. She only needed to complete it.
"How are you going to do it?" came a voice, making both Darithi and Cruxius turn.
A woman sat at the table, surrounded by half-finished dishes brought in about half an hour ago, clearly savoring each bite. Her emerald eyes looked exhausted but were curious as she tasted the unfamiliar cuisine.
The sheet draped around her had slipped slightly, exposing one bare shoulder and the upper curve of her breast, but she didn't seem to care—or notice.
"I'll use AI detection or experts," Darithi replied vaguely.
Technically, she was just going to pass the task to intelligence agencies known for confidentiality. But she couldn't say that out loud, not when her master hadn't yet told the woman that he was heir of Blac Corporation.
"...Tch, why ke...ep her by ...side? Sh...e is so ineffe...cient," Thalia muttered between bites, shaking her head as she leaned toward the table and gave Cruxius a pointed look.
He just glanced back with an amused smile, watching Thalia gobble up food like she hadn't eaten in days. Her cheeks were stuffed, lips glistening with sauce, a little smear of it at the corner of her mouth that she hadn't bothered to wipe away.
"And you think you can do better than her?" Cruxius asked simply, not even looking up. He had already made up his mind—there was no need for him to do the legwork when money could buy the answers.
It was only a matter of time before he reached each of those names.
Yet the lady seated before him—naked, covered only in a sheet, focused entirely on her meal with no hint of embarrassment—claimed she could do better.
Shouldn't he test her?
"Of... course... nmm—is this... really just simple pasta?!" Thalia exclaimed mid-bite, her eyes brimming with tears of joy as she devoured what felt like the most delicious food of her life.
The taste was endless. Five-star dishes known for their flavor filled her taste buds in ways she'd never experienced. Each bite was heaven—creamy, rich, perfectly seasoned.
"...Should I bring more food?"