In the soft morning light, they gathered around the television, its glow casting shifting shadows across their tired faces. The news anchor's voice filled the room, reporting on the joint announcement from Anvil and Ki Song about their ascension to supreme status.
"After receiving critical intelligence about an imminent gate outbreak in Antarctica," the anchor recited, "the leaders took extraordinary measures to protect humanity..."
"Complete nonsense," Sunny muttered, not bothering to keep his voice down.
"The timing is too perfect," Nephis agreed, her exhausted features sharpening with focus. "They're using Antarctica as a shield for their actions."
"They probably orchestrated the whole thing," Sunny continued, as if they were alone in the room. "The gates, the timing, everything."
"The evacuation orders will come too late," Nephis added, her fingers tightening around Sunny's. "They knew about this months ago."
Their back-and-forth continued, a private conversation in a public space. The others watched with growing fascination as the two discussed layers of political manipulation and strategic moves that seemed to go far deeper than the surface story.
Kai sat perfectly still in his armchair, absorbing every word. Jet's eyes darted between the TV and the couple, trying to piece together the larger picture they were painting. Rain remained quiet, her attribute humming with the weight of unspoken knowledge.
Only Effie seemed to be drifting from the conversation, her eyes repeatedly straying toward the kitchen. The memory of Sunny's cooking had awakened her legendary appetite once again, and even global conspiracies couldn't compete with the promise of leftover stew.
"They'll use the panic to justify everything," Sunny said, shaking his head. "The dream gate, the power grab, all of it."
"And everyone will accept it," Nephis finished his thought, "because they'll be too scared not to."
The morning sun continued to rise outside, casting long shadows through the windows, while inside, the weight of hidden truths and coming challenges hung in the air like an approaching storm.
The morning peace was interrupted by Effie's hopeful voice. "Sunny... could I maybe have some more food?" The polite request, so different from her usual demanding or sneaky approach to acquiring meals, caught Sunny off guard. Despite his irritation at having to cook again, he couldn't help but appreciate this small sign of growth.
Making his way to the kitchen, Sunny quickly assessed his supplies. The cabinets and refrigerator were looking sparse—evidence of feeding five hungry people who had barely eaten all day. With a quiet sigh, he lifted his arm, revealing an intricate bracelet adorned with runes that seemed older than time itself.
As he channeled essence into the bracelet, the runes began to respond. Rather than emitting light, they seemed to drink it in, creating small pockets of darkness that twisted and writhed along his arm. The effect was unsettling—areas where light should be but wasn't, like tiny holes in reality itself.
Sunny's body went completely still, frozen in the act of channeling. From his shadow—which somehow seemed darker and deeper than it should be—emerged a chest. The wood looked ancient, with patterns that suggested it had grown in places where normal trees feared to take root. The grain spiraled in impossible ways, creating optical illusions that made it difficult to focus on any one spot.
As the chest fully materialized, Sunny's movements resumed, though there was a subtle stiffness to them that most would miss. But Nephis, watching carefully from the living room, noticed the slight tremor in his hands, the barely perceptible tightness in his shoulders.
Opening the chest revealed a maw of sharp teeth—a security measure that would have terrified most people but merely made Sunny roll his eyes. Beyond the teeth lay an impossible space, far larger than the chest's external dimensions should allow. Neatly organized sections contained everything from fresh meat to preserved vegetables, from everyday clothing to glowing soul shards of various ranks that pulsed with their own inner light.
With practiced efficiency, Sunny began pulling items from the chest: perfectly aged beef that had never seen a refrigerator, vegetables that looked as if they had been picked moments ago, herbs that filled the kitchen with aromas from a dozen different climates. Each ingredient came with its own story, its own impossible journey to this moment.
His hands moved with practiced precision as he began to prepare the meal. The knife became an extension of his will, transforming solid ingredients into precisely cut pieces. The heat of the stove responded to his adjustments as if it could read his mind, maintaining the exact temperature needed for each step of the process.
Time seemed to flow differently in the kitchen as Sunny worked, each movement purposeful, each decision based on years of experience and knowledge. The ingredients combined and transformed, creating something that was more than the sum of its parts.
The process began with Sunny searing the aged beef in a pan that had seen countless meals. The meat sizzled and caramelized, creating a rich brown crust while keeping the inside perfectly rare. The aroma filled the kitchen immediately, drawing everyone's attention despite their earlier conversation about world-changing events.
Fresh herbs—some of which seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly quality—were chopped and added to the pan, their oils releasing fragrances that shouldn't have been possible in this season. Vegetables followed, each cut with surgical precision: mushrooms that had grown in shadows too deep for normal fungi, root vegetables with subtle patterns running through their flesh like marble.
From the chest, he retrieved a small vial of liquid that caught the morning light in strange ways. Three drops into the pan created a reaction that made the steam rise in perfect spirals, carrying scents that seemed to tell stories of places none of them had ever been.
The real magic happened when Sunny began combining everything in a large, well-worn pot. Each ingredient was added in a specific order, at precise moments, creating layers of flavor that built upon each other. A pinch of spices here, a splash of mysterious liquid there, all coming together in a dance of culinary expertise.
Finally, after what seemed like both moments and hours, Sunny stepped back from his creation. In the pot sat something that looked deceptively simple: a stew that seemed to shimmer slightly, its surface reflecting light in ways that regular food shouldn't. The broth was crystal clear yet deeply colored, like liquid amber. Chunks of meat and vegetables floated in perfect suspension, each piece looking as if it had been individually placed.
Steam rose from the surface in lazy spirals, carrying an aroma that made even Kai look up from his contemplation. The smell promised comfort and satisfaction, but also hinted at flavors that most people would never experience in their lifetime.
As Sunny began to ladle portions into bowls, the stew moved like liquid silk, each serving looking exactly like the others—a level of consistency that shouldn't have been possible without supernatural intervention.
Effie's eyes were wide with anticipation, her earlier fatigue forgotten in the face of what promised to be another extraordinary meal. Even Nephis, who had seen Sunny cook countless times, found herself leaning forward slightly, drawn in by the simple yet somehow magical presentation.
The first taste would prove that sometimes the simplest things, in the right hands, could become something extraordinary.
As the group gathered around the table once again, the morning sun now fully streaming through the windows, their earlier discussion about world-changing events temporarily forgotten in the face of Sunny's culinary creation.
Effie was first to taste the stew, her spoon diving in with barely contained excitement. The moment the food touched her tongue, her eyes widened. Even for someone who had eaten Sunny's cooking before, this was different. The flavors seemed to unfold in layers, each taste revealing something new.
"This is..." she started, then stopped, unusually lost for words.
Jet, typically reserved about such things, couldn't hold back a small sound of appreciation as she tried her portion. The fatigue that had been etched on her face seemed to lift slightly, as if the food itself carried some restorative property.
Rain watched her brother with newfound curiosity as she ate. Her attribute tingled at the edges of her awareness, suggesting there was more to this meal than mere skill with ingredients.
Kai ate slowly, methodically, his eyes closed as if mapping each flavor. Even his usual stoic demeanor cracked slightly at the corners, a small smile playing at his lips.
Nephis observed them all while enjoying her own bowl, her hand still finding its way back to Sunny's whenever possible. She knew the secret—that cooking was another form of strategy for him, another way of taking care of those he considered his to protect.
"The ingredients," Rain finally said, breaking the comfortable silence. "They're not normal, are they?"
Sunny shared a look with Nephis before answering. "Some things are better when they come from places others can't reach," he said carefully.
The conversation might have continued in that direction, but a sudden sharp sound from the television drew their attention. Breaking news was flashing across the screen—more announcements about Antarctica, about the measures being taken by the new supreme humans.
But for this moment, in this room, those world-shaking events seemed distant. Here, there was warmth, and food that tasted of impossible things, and a group of people bound together by more than just circumstance.
The sun continued to rise outside, promising another day of changes and challenges. But for now, they had this moment of peace, wrapped in the comfort of good food and better company.
Sunny looked around the table at these people—his sister, his friends, his future wife—and felt something settle in his chest. Whatever came next, whatever challenges Antarctica and the supreme humans might bring, this moment was worth protecting.
The conversation gradually returned, softer now, more personal. Plans for the wedding, jokes about Sunny's cooking, careful avoidance of the larger issues that would need to be faced soon enough. Morning light painted everything in soft gold, and for a little while longer, they could pretend the world outside wasn't changing in dangerous ways.
Sometimes, Sunny knew, the most important strategies started with moments like these—quiet breakfasts, shared laughter, and the kind of trust that could only be built over meals that tasted of impossible things.
As the morning stretched on, the group settled into a comfortable rhythm of conversation and companionship. The television continued its stream of news in the background, but it had become little more than white noise.
Effie had finally—finally—declared herself full after a third helping of the mysterious stew. She sat back in her chair, a contentment on her face that made her look younger, more like the person she might have been before life had demanded so much from her.
"So," Rain ventured, her eyes moving between Sunny and Nephis, "a week isn't much time to plan a wedding. Even one arranged by Clan Valor."
"Especially one arranged by Clan Valor," Kai corrected softly, his understanding of political maneuvering showing through. "Everything will be watched, every detail analyzed."
Sunny's hand tightened slightly around Nephis's. Despite the arranged nature of their marriage, despite the political games at play, there was something real here—something that had been growing long before Anvil's intervention.
"We can invite some people," Nephis said, her usual mask of composure softened by exhaustion and comfort. "Not many, but some."
"The cohort," Sunny added, then glanced at his sister. "Family."
Jet, who had been quiet for most of the morning, finally spoke up. "What about Antarctica?" The question hung in the air, heavy with implications. "A week isn't much time to prepare for that either."
"Morgan will be coming with us," Sunny revealed, his voice carefully neutral. The others absorbed this information, understanding the layers of supervision and control this represented.
The room fell quiet again, each person lost in their own thoughts. The sun had fully risen now, painting the room in clear morning light that seemed to make everything more real, more immediate.
"We should all get some sleep," Nephis suggested, noting how Jet's eyes were starting to close despite her best efforts. "There's time to plan later."
As if on cue, Effie yawned widely, not bothering to cover her mouth. The others couldn't help but smile—some things never changed, even when the world was shifting around them.
Sunny stood, still holding Nephis's hand. "There are enough rooms for everyone," he said, though most of them already knew this. His house had always been a refuge of sorts, a safe place when the world became too much.
As they began to move, preparing to find their way to various rooms and the promise of rest, Rain caught her brother's eye. There was so much they hadn't said, so much they needed to discuss. But it could wait. For now, sleep was more important than secrets.
The morning light streamed through the windows, dust motes dancing in the golden beams. Outside, the world continued its relentless motion toward whatever future awaited them. But here, in this moment, there was peace, and friendship, and the kind of love that grew quietly in the spaces between strategy and survival.
Tomorrow would bring its own challenges. For now, they had this—a house full of friends, bellies full of impossible food, and the comfort of knowing they weren't facing the future alone.