Lucian leaned back on the couch, his mother beside him, his dad still at the table working. The soft crackle of electricity filled the space again.
Then his dad spoke.
"Things have been calm lately."
Lucian didn't react, but his mother did.
"Calm?" she repeated, turning slightly toward him.
"Yeah," he said. "No major incidents. No conflicts. Everything's stable."
She let out a small breath through her nose. "You call that stable?"
He finally looked up at her. "What else would you call it?"
She didn't answer immediately. Her fingers tapped lightly against her arm.
"It's too quiet," she said after a moment.
Lucian shifted slightly but stayed quiet.
His dad shook his head. "That's the point. Peace isn't supposed to be loud."
"Peace?" she said, a bit sharper now. "Or control?"
He didn't like that.
"It's order," he replied. "People are living their lives. No one's dying in the streets. That's enough."
"For you, maybe."
The room changed slightly. Not loud. Just tense.
Lucian sat up a bit more, glancing between them.
His mom leaned forward, elbows on her knees.
"You think this holds forever?" she said. "You think nothing's going to break?"
His dad didn't answer right away this time.
"It's holding now," he said.
"That's not the same thing."
Lucian exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck.
They'd had conversations like this before.
Not exactly the same, but close enough.
His dad went back to adjusting the device in front of him.
"People always think something needs to happen," he said. "It doesn't."
His mother looked at him for a second longer, then leaned back again.
Lucian shifted in his seat.
"You two done?" he muttered.
They both looked at him.
"What?" his mom asked.
Lucian shrugged. "It's always the same thing."
"Oh?" his dad said. "And what do you think?"
Lucian paused for a second.
Then he spoke, simple.
"I just need somewhere to actually move."
They both looked at him properly now.
"Move?" his mom asked.
"Yeah," Lucian said. "Not this back and forth. Not holding back all the time."
His dad frowned slightly. "That's called control."
"It's called boring," Lucian replied.
His mom let out a small breath, like she understood more than she said.
"You've been holding it in too much," she said quietly.
Lucian didn't deny it.
"There's nowhere to go," he said. "Everything's restricted. Every space is shared or watched."
His dad leaned back in his chair.
"That's how it's supposed to be."
Lucian shook his head slightly.
"Yeah, well… it's not working for me."
The room went quiet again.
Not calm this time.
Just heavy.
His mom glanced at his dad, then back at Lucian.
"We'll figure something out," she said.
His dad didn't agree.
But he didn't argue either.
Lucian leaned back again, staring up at the ceiling.
But the mood had shifted.
And none of them said anything else after that.