The sky above Aleria roared.
Thunder rolled across the land, tearing through the heavens like an angry god beating war drums. Rain hammered the rooftops. Wind howled through the trees, a pack of hungry wolves chasing dreams through the night.
In the heart of the tempest… stood a silhouette.
Heroic.
Unwavering.
Underdressed.
"I stand vigilant," a voice whispered. "Strong. Unyielding. Watching the darkness like the guardian I am…"
Lightning flashed.
On the second-floor window of House Zennon stood a boy in his underpants—one foot planted on a chair, a bedsheet tied around his neck and flapping proudly like a cape.
"I am Kirian Zennon! Supreme hero! Defender of beautiful girls! I fight the shadows while the world sleeps—"
CLICK.
The room light flicked on.
"Kirian," Liliana said flatly from the doorway.
Her hair was a mess. Her eyes half-lidded. She wore bunny slippers and clutched an umbrella like a teddy bear.
"Why are you in your underwear?"
Kirian didn't flinch.
"You're ruining the moment, Lili."
"It's midnight."
"Justice doesn't sleep."
"You're twelve."
"And twelve steps ahead of crime!"
Liliana sighed and shuffled inside.
"I'm sleeping here tonight."
"What? Why?"
"It's cold."
"There's a heater in your room!"
"I don't like the sound it makes."
"Lili, you can't just—hey! Why are you already under the covers?!"
She tucked herself in without hesitation.
"Goodnight."
Kirian threw his arms into the air, the bedsheet flapping dramatically behind him.
"Fine. But don't hug me too tight. Where's your plushie?"
Liliana mumbled, half-asleep,
"You're the replacement tonight…"
Kirian's heroic expression wavered. Just a little.
"…I suppose it is the duty of a supreme hero to comfort civilians in distress."
With a dramatic flourish, he climbed into bed.
And so, as the storm raged outside, the young hero and his brutally honest sister drifted off to sleep. The wind screamed. The rain battered the walls.
But peace settled over their room.
Meanwhile… on the other side of the Zennon household…
A quiet room. Dark. Still.
Shink.
Shink.
Shink.
Coins stacked neatly on a desk.
A lone candle flickered, its flame stretching shadows across a hunched figure.
"Hehehehe…"
Emilia Alfeihn, wrapped in pajamas and wearing a blanket like a cape of her own, grinned as she counted copper coins like a dragon hoarding scraps of treasure. Candlelight gleamed in her eyes—bright with ambition and extremely questionable morals.
"With this haul," she whispered, "I'm gonna be rich. That mine map was a bust, but these beauties? All mine. All mine!"
She clapped a hand over her mouth as quiet, maniacal laughter shook her shoulders.
"Mwahahaha—"
BANG!
"EMILIA! SHUT UP OR YOU'RE SLEEPING OUTSIDE!"
"Sorry, Auntie!" Emilia yelped.
She hastily shoved the coins into a hollowed-out book titled Financial Freedom Through Questionable Means and slid it under her bed.
Flopping onto her pillow, she smirked.
"Mmm… sweet dreams of my next business transaction…"
The storm slowly passed.
Dark clouds thinned, giving way to soft orange morning light. Birds chirped. Somewhere in the kitchen, someone was already making eggs.
It was a new day.
A day full of promise, peril…
And very likely, more dumb decisions.