Nova pushed open the front door, the familiar creak of hinges announcing his arrival. The warm scent of home-cooked food filled the air — Aunt Mira's signature stew, if his nose wasn't mistaken.
"I'm home!" he called out, closing the door behind him with his foot while carefully balancing the expensive packages in his arms.
"Nova!" Lyanna's voice came from the living room, followed by the sound of rapid footsteps. She appeared in the hallway, her shoulder-length brown hair tied in a messy ponytail. "You're late! Aunt Mira was about to send—"
She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening as she noticed the elegantly wrapped packages he carried. The preservation formations on them glowed faintly with frost-blue energy — a clear indicator these weren't ordinary groceries.
"What are those?" Lyanna asked, her voice dropping to an awed whisper.
"Dinner ingredients," Nova said casually, walking past her toward the kitchen. "Is everyone home?"
