By the time nightfall settled over the coastline, they had already explored every room in the house twice, partly out of caution and partly because there simply was not much else to do. Adjusting did not take long in a practical sense, but mentally it was a different story.
Darling unpacked what little they had brought from storage while Asenane walked through the rooms again, touching surfaces with curiosity. She did not need furniture for comfort or shelter for survival but she appreciated design. The rigid walls and material density of this Earth-style house was different from what she was used to.
After about an hour of settling in, Darling stood in the center of the living room and decided that if they were going to treat this like a honeymoon and not a suspicious cosmic staging ground, he might as well lean into it properly. He announced that he would cook dinner, which immediately earned him a look from Asenane.
When he stepped into the kitchen and turned on the lights, he nearly stopped breathing for a second.
There was actual electrical lighting wired into the walls. He flicked the switch off and on again just to confirm that he was not hallucinating some nostalgic projection. The refrigerator hummed with a familiar mechanical vibration. The overhead lights glowed with steady warmth. There were outlets in the walls. There was a stove with knobs. There was a microwave and an oven.
In Spheraphase, cooking infrastructure was completely different.
Spheraphasian stoves were not powered by electricity or gas; they operated through personal energy infusion. One would channel a measured amount of energy into the cooking apparatus, which would then regulate heat distribution automatically. The stove would recognize the user's energy signature, adjust intensity accordingly and maintain consistent temperature until the user withdrew their energy. Once cooking was complete, they would simply dispel the remaining infusion and the device would deactivate. It was efficient, clean and standardized because every Spheraphasian possessed energy reserves.
Seeing a conventional Earth kitchen setup made Darling's mind curious. Electricity required infrastructure: generators, wiring grids, maintenance systems, supply chains and such. Gas lines required distribution networks. Refrigeration required consistent power output. This house was replicating Earth systems.
He opened the refrigerator slowly, half-expecting something otherworldly to be hidden behind the door. Instead, he found raw chicken, milk, butter, vegetables, eggs, bottled sauces and everything else a refrigerator should have. Everything looked painfully normal.
He pulled out a few items and placed them on the counter, scanning them with heightened perception just in case they were illusions. The structure matched Earth's agricultural produce almost perfectly.
He reached for a fruit bowl sitting near the window. The apples were red. The bananas were yellow. He stared at them for longer than necessary.
In Spheraphase, fruits did not adhere to Earth's color logic. Coloration in that realm was influenced by ambient energy density in the atmosphere which resulted in a broader and more unconventional spectrum. Tangerines existed yes, but they were blue. Their sweetness carried a faint cooling effect due to the energy within their cellular structure. Oranges, as Earth knew them, did not exist. In fact, most Spheraphasian fruits rarely shared identical coloration within the same species. Pigment variation was common due to environmental energy flux.
All his life in Spheraphase, uniform color patterns like this would have looked artificial. And now here they were.
He exhaled slowly and muttered to himself that if he had not grown up on Earth first, he might genuinely believe this was some elaborate illusion designed to test him.
Fortunately, he had been something of a cooking enthusiast in his previous life. If he had not been, he might have stood there awkwardly trying to remember how to operate a gas stove without accidentally turning it into a small-scale explosion experiment. Instead, muscle memory kicked in. He checked the knobs, verified the ignition system, tested the burner flame and adjusted the heat manually. It felt almost nostalgic.
He decided to make fried chicken, curry and rice because the ingredients were conveniently available and because comfort food felt appropriate in a suspiciously Earth-like kitchen. There was raw chicken in the refrigerator, pre-packaged but fresh. The rice was stored in a sealed container in one of the cabinets. The spices were labeled in a way that nearly made him laugh out loud because they were written in English.
As he began preparing the meal, Asenane appeared at the kitchen entrance and watched him with fascination.
"Can I help?"
He glanced over his shoulder and smiled.
"Of course."
He handed her a cutting board and a knife, then placed a couple of onions in front of her. She observed the knife first, testing its weight and balance. While Divine beings were more than capable of cutting through extremely strong constructs, using a simple kitchen knife required a certain restraint in strength. And Asenane realized that the house was not strong like the Richinaria Palace or any other place she's been to.
She began slicing the onions with precise, controlled movements. About thirty seconds later, she stopped. Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"Veneri, this plant is attacking my vision."
He turned just in time to see tears forming in her eyes. He laughed.
Even in a different realm, even in a house that felt suspiciously misplaced in the fabric of Spheraphase, onions were still onions.
He stepped closer and explained, in full educational mode, that onions release a volatile sulfur compound called syn-propanethial-S-oxide when cut. This compound reacts with the moisture in one's eyes to form a mild sulfuric acid, which irritates the tear glands and triggers a protective response. The body produces tears to dilute and wash away the irritant.
He learned this from Greshina Emberforge when they studied together when he was in the hospital from time to time. He was surprised he actually remembered that. In fact, ever since he saw Greshina in the Sucking Void, more of his memories were clearer and less blurry.
Also, he found out a new discovery. The Periodic Table existed across the universe, not just on Earth. That would explain the chemical reaction too.
Asenane listened intently despite the tears streaming down her face.
"So did you willingly consume this back on Earth?"
"Yes."
"Repeatedly?"
"Yeah. Onions are the same in Spheraphase, not just on Earth."
He handed her a cloth and suggested she step slightly farther from the cutting board while he finished the onions. She watched him with curiosity, occasionally blinking away the residual sting. He found himself oddly comforted by the normalcy of it. Divine physiology might incinerate excess food internally but apparently, tear ducts still functioned when chemically provoked.
An hour later, the kitchen smelled incredible. The fried chicken had achieved a crisp golden crust. The curry was thick and aromatic. The rice was fluffy and properly steamed. He turned off the stove carefully and stood back to admire what he considered a small triumph.
Adjusting to Earth equipment in a Spheraphasian context was bizarre, but he had done it. He felt a quiet sense of pride looking at the finished dishes arranged neatly on the counter. Asenane noticed the difference in the cooking apparatus again as she approached the table.
"This equipment is not standard in Spheraphase but you're with it."
"We used this on Earth."
"You didn't expect to see it here."
"No."
She looked around the kitchen once more, her gaze lingering on the refrigerator, the microwave and the electrical outlets.
"And the sanitation bowl? That is also from Earth?"
He paused mid-motion while placing plates on the table. He turned his head slightly, then straightened and cleared his throat.
"We should eat while it's hot."
She studied him for a second longer, fully aware that he had just executed a tactical conversational deflection, but she allowed it. They sat down together at the small dining table near the window. The ocean was visible beyond the glass.
As they began eating, he found himself torn between enjoyment and analysis. The food tasted exactly as he remembered from his previous life. The spices, the textures, the balance of flavor all matched Earth's culinary logic. There was no altering taste. It was simply human cuisine.
And that, more than anything else, unsettled him.
Because if this island realm was capable of replicating Earth's infrastructure, agricultural genetics, electrical systems and culinary ingredients with this level of accuracy, then it was not merely decorative.