[ Dale Household - Ryn's Room ]

  The door clicked softly.

  A figure slipped into the room, their footsteps making no sound against the wooden floorboards.

  They moved silently, surveying the familiar space. It was neat and quiet, much like the owner himself.

  Finally, their gaze landed on the corner of the room.

  There, the sleek obsidian gaming pod hummed quietly. The dark glass lid was semi-transparent, revealing the young man lying inside.

  The figure walked toward it slowly.

  They placed a hand on the cool glass surface. Leaning down, they watched Ryn's sleeping face for a few minutes, as if trying to etch it into their memory. He looked peaceful, his expression calm and unbothered even in his sleep.

  Eventually, they pulled away.

  They walked over to the single bed and sat on the edge, their fingers tracing the texture of the blanket.

  "I missed you, Ryn..."

  _____ ____ _

  [ Three hours later ]

  Hiss.

  The hydraulic seal of the pod released with a faint sound.

  The obsidian lid slid open smoothly.

  Ryn sat up slowly, a long yawn escaping his lips. He rubbed his eyes, blinking away the lingering drowsiness of the dive.

  He climbed out of the pod carefully, stretching his stiff limbs. He pressed the panel on the side, watching the lid slide shut with a soft click.

  "Lunch time..." he mumbled, turning toward his Arc-Computer to check the time properly.

  However, a faint silhouette in the corner of his vision made him pause.

  Ryn stopped mid-step.

  He let out an internal sigh.

  'Not again.'

  He turned slowly toward his bed and rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on.

  Lying there on top of his covers was a girl.

  She was stunning, her porcelain skin glowing in the afternoon light. Cascades of silken white hair spilled across his pillow, shimmering like spun moonlight. She was breathing softly, sleeping peacefully in his bed as if she owned the place.

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  However, he didn't take any action to wake her.

  Instead, he walked silently toward the bed, his bare feet making no sound on the floorboards. He stood over her, gazing down at her sleeping face.

  She looked delicate, like a porcelain doll that might shatter if touched too roughly.

  However, as he watched, her expression shifted.

  Her brows knitted together, forming a tight crease of distress. Her breathing hitched, becoming shallow and erratic, and her fingers clenched the bedsheet until her knuckles turned white. Her features contorted in pain, a silent whimper escaping her lips.

  It was as if she were having a nightmare.

  Ryn's gaze narrowed. A faint, almost imperceptible glint passed through his irises.

  He raised his hand and waved it gently over her face, like brushing away a cobweb.

  Hum.

  An invisible ripple distorted the air for a fraction of a second.

  Instantly, the tension drained from the girl's body. Her furrowed brows smoothed out, her breathing deepened into a steady rhythm, and her clenched hands relaxed. The pain on her face vanished, replaced by a serene expression, her lips curling up into a faint, sweet smile.

  Ryn lowered his hand.

  He then flicked his fingers.

  Pop.

  Space distorted slightly, and a thick, soft duvet, plush enough to feel like a cloud, materialized in his hands from thin air.

  He lowered it gently, covering her form to keep her warm without disturbing her rest.

  Satisfied, Ryn gazed at her one last time.

  "Sleep well," he muttered gently.

  He turned toward the door. He reached for the handle but stopped. The latch was old; it would click, and the hinges might creak.

  He shook his head and decided to stick to his ways.

  Space warped around him.

  Zip.

  With a sound no louder than a turning page, Ryn vanished from the room, leaving the white-haired girl sleeping peacefully in the silence.

  ______ ____ _

  Ryn materialized in the bathroom on the first floor.

  He quickly splashed cold water on his face, washing away the lingering lethargy from the immersion pod. Drying his face with a towel, he looked at the mirror. His expression was back to its usual calm indifference.

  Zip.

  Space warped again.

  He bypassed the creaky wooden stairs entirely, reappearing silently in the center of the living room.

  The smell of savory stew and fresh herbs filled the air.

  His mother, Kaya, was standing by the kitchen island, rhythmically chopping vegetables. In the living area, his younger sister, Raya, was sprawled on the carpet, her eyes glued to a cartoon of a dancing bear. His father was notably absent, likely still at the office for his shift.

  Ryn walked toward the kitchen, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

  "Let me help you," he called out softly.

  Kaya paused mid-chop. She turned around, a warm smile breaking across her face when she saw her son.

  "You're out early," she noted, wiping her hands on her apron. She glanced behind him, toward the empty hallway. "Where is she?"

  Ryn shrugged, picking up a knife to take over the vegetable prep.

  "She was fast asleep," he replied simply. "I didn't wake her up."

  Kaya looked at him for a moment. Her eyes crinkled at the corners, and a meaningful, slightly teasing smile played on her lips. She nodded in understanding.

  "Alright," she said, her voice dropping to a gentle tone. "Let her sleep until lunch is ready. The poor child... she must have been really tired to fall asleep like that."

  Ryn nodded, choosing not to elaborate on the nightmare he had just dispelled.

  "I'll handle the salad," he said, shifting the topic.

  "Thank you, dear."

  Mother and son worked in a comfortable, practiced rhythm. Ryn's knife skills were precise and efficient, while Kaya managed the stove.

  Thirty minutes passed quickly.

  The table was set, the stew was bubbling perfectly, and the aroma of freshly baked bread filled the room.

  Kaya untied her apron and placed the final dish on the table.

  "Everything is ready," she announced, clapping her hands lightly. She looked at the clock, then at Ryn.

  "Go wake her up now, Ryn. And come down quickly. We shouldn't let the food get cold."