The midday sun spilled gentle warmth through the wide windows of a cosy London café, illuminating the polished tabletops and comfortable wooden chairs.
The Blackwoods had settled into a corner booth—Margaret and Andrew on one side, Richard and Meredith on the other—forming a snug circle of family in the bustling space.
A tantalising aroma of freshly roasted coffee and baked pastries hung in the air, mingling with the soft chatter of other patrons. Margaret lifted a delicate white teacup to her lips before setting it down with a contented sigh.
"Now," she said, her gentle gaze shifting to Richard, "tell me how your classes have been going, dear. Meredith mentioned something about a Dungeon trip…?"
Across the table, Richard took a moment to sip from his own drink—a cappuccino with soya-vanilla milk that tasted as good as ever.
"Right. Well, I don't know if she meant the one we've already had, which was about as thrilling as watching paint dry. Meredith just cleared the entire thing herself, all the while explaining her every move to the class," he said, voice tinged with faint exasperation. "Then there's the F-Rank Dungeon we're supposed to clear in two days with my new class. Though, given how straightforward these dungeons are, I doubt it'll be much different."
Andrew raised an eyebrow. "An entire Dungeon was boring?"
Meredith rolled her eyes—she was midway through stirring sugar into her latte. "No, it wasn't boring for anyone except Richard. He's an S-Rank, so of course he won't find any challenge in an F-Rank Dungeon. The little wimp is even stronger than me, and I'd bet he could clear some S-Rank Dungeons by himself."
Richard scoffed, brushing crumbs from his fingers. "My point still stands, though. I was in a group of wide-eyed teenagers who've never held a weapon before… it was absurd. F-Rank zombies that stumble around at a snail's pace—I could've cleared them with both hands tied behind my back."
Margaret shot him a reproachful glance. "Richard, be nice. And please be careful, even with the low ranks," she added, sipping her tea.
Andrew leant his elbows on the table, voice dropping lower. "I remember a time when a crawling zombie nearly had you for dinner, son. Don't tell me you've forgotten."
Richard's lips twitched at the memory.
Once, back in middle school, a Dungeon outbreak had occurred near his route home, and he'd managed to corner himself in a narrow alley with nowhere to run. A single undead had almost got the better of him.
He'd killed it in the end—but he'd also unlocked his system at an unusually young age.
"Ah, that was different," he said, waving a dismissive hand. "I was a kid then—and an idiot. Now, I'm—"
"—an older idiot?" Meredith cut in sweetly, earning a playful shove from her brother.
Margaret tutted, though her eyes glinted with fond amusement. "Behave, you two. It's good that you're strong—it just means you'll breeze through the basics and move on to tougher opponents soon, right?" She sounded almost reluctant to say it.
Meredith nodded, taking a sip of her latte. "Yes. He should be able to reach E-Rank in record time. After that, he can ask for higher-level Dungeons—assuming he doesn't get on the staff's nerves first."
"Lovely," Richard drawled, folding his arms. "Because I'm sure they'll appreciate me pointing out every flaw in their teaching."
"You're going to end up with detention at this rate," Meredith said lightly, a grin tugging at her lips.
Andrew's laughter rumbled, a warm sound amidst the café's bustle. "Seeing you in detention again, Rich, would be quite the sight."
Richard shook his head, though a faint smile broke through. This was the closest to normal he had felt in a long time.
More than ten years, he thought, though for him it felt like barely any time at all.
The casual teasing, the easy back-and-forth over hot drinks—this is why I'm fighting, so others can have this too.
Meanwhile, the rest of the café's patrons sipped their coffees and chatted, oblivious to the presence of the former Astralis and the young hero Astrid sharing a simple family moment.
He glanced at Margaret, whose concern was only partly hidden behind her gentle smile. "It'll be fine, Mum," he murmured. "I promise not to do anything reckless… yet."
Margaret hummed, dabbing her lips with a napkin. "That's all I ask."
"I just hope you enjoy it a little," Andrew interjected, leaning back in the booth. "This is your fresh start, son. You might as well learn from it—without terrifying every new recruit in the process."
Meredith smirked into her latte, and Richard let out a half-hearted chuckle. "Noted."
He settled back, letting the café's gentle hum and the warmth of his family wash over him. For a brief moment, he could be Richard Blackwood—an ordinary brother complaining about school, never mind that no one was quite sure if he was older or younger now.
Then, his danger sense flared. Without hesitating, he moved.
Time seemed to slow as his enhanced reflexes took over, each detail coming into razor-sharp focus. He caught a glimpse of Meredith reacting an instant later, summoning some kind of shield.
Who's the target? he thought, willing himself to pinpoint the incoming projectile.
There.
With practised ease, he summoned his 1-Star Glyph: Burst Step and dashed across the café in a blur. I'm not going to reach her in time, came the realisation—so he used Burst Step again, pushing his legs to their limit to intercept the bullet before it struck a young woman square in the chest.
He lunged, his hand moving faster than the human eye could follow. His fingers curled around the projectile just inches from the woman's astonished face—a small bullet with a tip that glinted gold.
Chaos exploded in the café.
Patrons screamed and threw themselves to the floor, chairs clattering in a discordant scramble.
Richard's enhanced hearing picked up the clatter of a rifle hitting the pavement outside, followed by rapid footsteps retreating into the distance. Should I give chase? he wondered, already searching the café for his family.
They were in defensive stances—Meredith's shield now stretching to protect nearby civilians.
As he prepared to pursue the shooter, Richard's gaze fell upon the person sitting beside the woman he had just saved.
You've got to be kidding me. Why in the blazing hells is he here?