The internet was a vile, irredeemable place, and Sunny was fully prepared to burn it to the ground.
He stood in his pristine kitchen, a spatula in one hand and his communicator in the other. On the stove, thick cuts of bacon were sizzling in a pan, filling the air with a rich, savory aroma. But Sunny wasn't paying attention to the culinary masterpiece he was creating. He was glaring at the glowing screen of his device with a murderous intensity that could have probably killed an Awakened beast on the spot.
Report.
Reason: Inappropriate content.
He scrolled down furiously.
Report.
Reason: Harassment.
"Degenerates," Sunny muttered under his breath, aggressively jabbing his finger against the screen. "Absolute, irredeemable filth of the world. A menace to society."
He was currently deep in the trenches of the Dreamscape network forums. Ever since Cielle had logged in to 'protect his win streak' and accidentally shattered an opponent's shield with her bare hands, the forums had exploded. But they weren't talking about Mongrel's terrifying strength, they were but there was another hot topic. They were talking about the subtle, undeniable shift in Mongrel's silhouette.
Lady Mongrel, they called her.
Sunny felt a vein throb in his temple. He read the next comment.
[xX_Awakened_Blade_Xx]: Bro, I'm telling you, the way that chest plate is curved now? Mongrel is definitely a girl. And she can step on me anytime.
"It is called a breastplate! " Sunny hissed at the screen, reporting the user with extreme prejudice. "It is designed to deflect piercing strikes! Or maybe he wears a charm under his armor! Mongrel is a ruthless, bloodthirsty, completely masculine demon of swordsmanship! Step on you? I'll step on your neck!"
His gloomy shadow, currently stretched out across the kitchen cabinets, slowly turned its head to look at him. It crossed its arms and shook its head, radiating a profound, heavy disappointment at his life choices.
Before Sunny could verbally reprimand his own shadow, a soft, familiar rustle of feathers drifted down the hallway.
Sunny immediately locked his communicator, tossing it onto the counter. He turned back to the stove, grabbing a plate and hastily sliding two perfectly fried eggs and a stack of toast onto it. He was not going to let her see him aggressively defending her–his—Mongrel's honor on the internet. He had a reputation to maintain.
Cielle wandered into the kitchen.
She looked entirely, devastatingly sleep-tousled. She was still wearing his shirt because of course she was. Her brown hair was a messy bird's nest, and her big green eyes were half-closed, blinking lazily against the morning light.
She didn't say good morning. Instead she simply walked right up to the counter, invaded Sunny's personal space without a shred of hesitation, and stared at the plate he had just prepared.
"I smell meat," Cielle stated, her voice slightly raspy from sleep.
"Good morning to you too," Sunny grumbled, reaching for the butter knife. "And yes, you smell meat. I bought actual, high quality bacon because we aren't eating monster jerky in this house unless we have to."
Cielle nodded slowly, processing this information. Then, with the casual, grace of a seasoned predator, she reached out, plucked the most perfectly toasted, perfectly buttered slice of bread right off his plate, and took a massive bite.
Sunny froze, the butter knife hovering in the air.
He looked at his plate. Then he looked at her. Cielle was chewing contentedly, her eyes tracking a stray bird outside the kitchen window. She didn't even look remotely guilty.
"That," Sunny said, his voice dangerously calm, "was my toast."
Cielle swallowed. She looked at the half-eaten toast in her hand, then looked up at him. "It is very good," she offered bluntly. "You distribute the butter evenly. The Academy cafeteria just throws it in the middle."
Sunny stared at her. His happy shadow had detached from the floor and was currently doing a silent, triumphant little cheer behind her back. Sunny let out a long, long sigh, feeling the fight leave his body entirely. He picked up another slice of bread and dropped it into the toaster.
"How did you sleep in the sanctuary?" he asked, trying to salvage his dignity.
"Acceptably," Cielle replied, leaning against the counter. Her wing shifted, brushing lightly against his hip. She didn't move it away. "Your couch is softer though. Though I had a strange dream."
"Oh?" Sunny asked, flipping the bacon. "A Nightmare?"
"No," Cielle said flatly. "I dreamed I was chewing on a Fallen beast's femur, but it tasted like mint. It was very upsetting."
Sunny choked on a laugh, quickly disguising it as a cough. "Right. Well. No mint in this house, remember?"
Cielle nodded approvingly. She reached out to take a piece of bacon directly from the hot pan.
"Ah!" Sunny slapped her hand away lightly with the spatula. "Plate first, you savage. You'll burn your fingers."
He plated the bacon and slid it toward her. She immediately began dismantling the pile. Sunny watched her eat, a quiet, unfamiliar warmth blooming in his chest. She looked so ridiculously comfortable in his kitchen, wearing his clothes, eating his food. It was domestic. It was peaceful.
It was also highly dangerous.
Sunny glanced toward the basement door. If they stayed in the house, eventually, she would gravitate toward the sleeping pods. She had been going on more and more hunts, he suspected it was to get some credits by submitting her exploration reports, but he didn't confront that fro now.
The pods meant the Dream Realm. The Dream Realm meant the Chained Isles, and the Chained Isles meant the Crushing, nightmare creatures, and an overwhelming amount of stress. He needed to keep her in the Waking World for at least a day to let her mind rest.
He needed to get her out of the house.
"We are going out today," Sunny announced, taking a bite of his own, secondary piece of toast.
Cielle paused mid-chew. She tilted her head, her wings rustling slightly in confusion. "Out where? The food is here. The couch is here. And there are no people here."
"Exactly," Sunny said, pointing the spatula at her. "Which is why we are leaving. You need cultural integration. We are going to a media exhibition. A movie. In a theater."
Cielle frowned. "Like Star Wars?"
"Yes, but on a much larger screen, with better audio, and snacks that you don't have to steal from my cabinets."
Cielle considered this. "Will there be real meat?"
"I'll buy you a burger the size of your head," Sunny promised.
"Okay," Cielle agreed instantly, easily bought. "I will go to the movies."
Sunny nodded, satisfied. "Good. Now, I just need to secure the perimeter."
Taking her to a public theater was out of the question. Her wings were impossible to hide completely, and her complete lack of a social filter meant she was liable to threaten someone if they looked at her wrong. He needed a private environment. A VIP booth. And there was only one person he knew who had endless access to that kind of high-society luxury.
Sunny picked up his communicator and dialed Kai.
The line rang twice before the idol's bright, melodic voice floated through the speaker. "Sunny?! Good morning! To what do I owe the pleasure? Did you finally decide to take me up on that trip to the mall?"
"Kai," Sunny said, his tone entirely flat "I need a favor. I need VIP tickets to the premiere theater in the central district. Today. The ones with the private, soundproof booths."
There was a slight pause on the other end. "Oh? That's quite the request. Usually, those have a week-long waiting list. I can probably make a few calls, but... why the sudden interest in cinema? And why a private booth? The public premium seats are perfectly fine."
Sunny closed his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He really, really didn't want to explain this. But he also knew Kai. Kai was nosy, and worse, Kai was a good friend who genuinely cared. Sunny decided to amuse himself.
"Listen to me very carefully, Kai," Sunny said, his voice dropping into a dramatic, exasperated deadpan. "I need to get out of the house. I need an outing. This girl practically moved in, she is driving me insane."
At that exact moment, Cielle leaned over, looked at the remaining piece of bacon Sunny was holding halfway to his mouth, and simply bit the top half of it off while it was still in his hand.
"She literally steals food directly out of my mouth!" Sunny yelled into the phone, glaring at Cielle, who just chewed placidly. "She walks around my house half-naked, she has zero sense of boundaries, and I need a secure, private room where people won't stare at us."
"Sunny..." Kai started, sounding mildly amused, clearly thinking Sunny was just using his usual colorful, sarcastic metaphors. "Aren't you exaggerating a bit?"
"I am not exaggerating!" Sunny barked, entirely serious. "And before you ask, yes, she is a literal angel. It is an absolute nightmare. My life is in danger. I need the VIP tickets, Kai."
On the other end of the line, there was silence.
It wasn't a thinking silence. It was a profound, world-shattering, gravity-reversing silence.
Because Kai possessed a very specific Flaw. Kai always knew when someone was lying to him. Whenever someone spoke a falsehood, Kai heard a discordant, awful note.
But as Kai listened to Sunny's frantic rant, he heard nothing but the clear, ringing bell of absolute, undeniable truth.
She moved in. (Truth)
She steals food out of his mouth. (Truth)
She walks around half-naked. (Truth)
She is a literal angel. (Truth)
"Sunny," Kai finally whispered, his voice completely devoid of its usual charm, sounding genuinely, deeply horrified. "What... what is happening in your house?"
"Just text me the barcode, Kai!" Sunny snapped, and ended the call.
He set the communicator face down on the counter and let out a long breath.
Cielle was watching him, her head tilted to the side, licking a stray bit of grease off her thumb. "Who is Kai? Is he the one providing the large burger?"
"Kai is a pop star. He is also a menace to my privacy," Sunny grumbled, rubbing his temples. He looked at Cielle, taking in the oversized shirt and the bare legs. A sudden realization hit him like a physical blow. He couldn't take her out in public like this.
"Finish your breakfast," Sunny ordered, pointing at her. "I need to make another call. We need to get you actual clothes, or I'm going to be arrested for public indecency by association."
"My armor is fine," Cielle stated.
"Your armor makes you look like a medieval gladiator," Sunny retorted. "We are going to the movies. Not a warzone. Eat."
As Sunny walked away to find Aiko's contact information, his gloomy shadow stared after him, slowly shaking its head. You are going on a date, the shadow seemed to project into the room.
It is a tactical integration exercise! Sunny yelled back in his mind.
The happy shadow just danced near Cielle's feet. Cielle, entirely unbothered by the invisible drama, finished the last piece of Sunny's bacon.