Still a lovely breakfast. Or so I thought.
Sunlight poured in. Food half-devoured. And awkward tension thick enough to make even an introvert confess their secret crush.
The perfect setting for dramatic misunderstandings and accidental love confessions... which, apparently, I've just been accused of.
Then—
Levin stepped in.
Smiling.
Blissfully unaware.
Somehow immune to the obvious awkward aura lingering in the air.
"Good morning, Uncle James. Aunt Selena. Grandpa Swift."
He paused. "Lyra."
Levin approached Lyra, pulling something small from his coat.
Not flowers, thank fate. Even he had figured out not to repeat that one too often.
It looked like… a carved trinket? A polished charm stone with a mana thread?
Whatever it was, he handed it over with that same hopeful smile.
"For your collection," he said. "Found it in the merchant village. Thought of you."
She didn't respond.
Still dazed.
Lyra blinked at the trinket, her fingers hovering inches from it, unmoving.
Her eyes weren't even on Levin—they were somewhere else entirely. Somewhere distant.
Maybe trapped in the emotional fallout zone of my overly manly, painfully responsible heart-vow from moments ago.
Levin's brows drew together. "You okay? Your ears are red. Are you—do you have a fever or something?"
And that's when I made the mistake.
"It's because they accused me of proposing WED—"
Before I could finish the word,Lyra yeeted me across the room.
I didn't even see it coming.
One second I was politely doing my job—translating the awkwardness Levin clearly wasn't qualified to handle—
The next? I was airborne, tossed like a limited-edition dice that failed quality control.
THUNK.
Wall. Corner.
My super manly, heartfelt vow… answered by drywall.
"You shut up! No talking!" she hissed.
Then, clearing her throat like nothing just happened:
"A—anyway! Good morning, Levin!"
"...What just happened?" Levin blinked.
"Nothing."
"Absolutely nothing."
"Don't ask."
A few minutes later.
I had been retrieved. Again.
Back on the table. Still slightly spinning from impact trauma.
Kevin leaned against the wall, arms folded, watching me like I might sprout limbs and start breakdancing.
"So the dice can talk now," he finally said—calm voice, sharp eyes.
Dad seemed to have a sudden epiphany. He leaned forward and asked, dead serious:
"So, Dan… do you need a toothbrush or something?"
Mom added cheerfully, without missing a beat,
"Honestly? I'd keep him on a shelf."
Grandpa, of course, looked like he'd seen this coming since the day I first rolled into their lives.
"I wonder what else he's been holding back."
"Nothing illegal!" I blurted. "Probably!"
Inside the cube, I was sweating bullets.
All the questionable moments flashed before me like a cursed slideshow:
The mango taster scene.
The bath scene.
The—nope. Not thinking about that one.
Levin blinked, clearly unsure if he was supposed to laugh or salute me.
"Feels like I just saw you two yesterday… and somehow, I still managed to miss something fundamental."
Mom chimed in with a delighted laugh,
"Ohoho~! That's exactly what I said!"
Kevin, completely undisturbed by the chaos, cut in with his usual sharp timing.
"Alright. Let's get to the real conversation."
Lyra glanced at him—something in her gut told her this was about her.
He nodded.
"It's about the Guild."
His tone shifted, voice firming into the one he used when switching from Dad to Strategist.
"It's time. You need to register with the Guild Association in Nexus City."
Silence.
Levin blinked.
"Wait, seriously? She's not even—"
Kevin raised a hand, cutting him off.
"She's more than qualified. After everything we've seen, everything we know… it's time."
"And honestly?" He exhaled. "There's nothing more I can teach her."
He turned to Lyra now, voice softer—but steady.
"What you need is experience. To see the world for yourself."
"And maybe part of it is my ego talking, but…"
"Keeping you in this village your whole life would've been a waste."
He looked between Lyra and me.
" Dan, I've seen countless Living Artifacts during my adventuring years—but none as lively as you. I've also heard your story from Grandpa.
Whatever your past was, one thing's clear—your future is tangled with Lyra's.
You two… you're meant for something more."
He gestured at me.
"With the recent mana inflation there are forces in motion. And I don't think the world's going to wait much longer to notice."
I pulsed faintly. "So what, we join the Guild and get a badge? Discounts on monster exorcisms?"
Kevin smirked—just a little. "Something like that."
Then he leaned back slightly, his expression growing thoughtful.
"I used to be quite the adventurous soul too. But due to... personal reasons, I retired early."
"That said—there's a much bigger reason I'm pushing this."
He looked directly at Lyra now. Kevin's eyes met Lyra's, steady and unflinching—like he was handing her something invisible, and far heavier than words.
"You need to get stronger. And if you keep staying here, in this quiet little village, your progress will slow to a crawl."
"You already know some of our magic history. I've told you before—back in the old age, no one had magic. It wasn't part of us. It was given. Bestowed."
"The thing that changed everything—the thing that gave us access to mana and spells—was the Fate Fragment. That's what allowed us to bend magic for the first time."
"Every awakened mage has a Root inside them. The fragment lives within it. And if someone kills you—"
His voice dropped low, each word crisp enough to cut.
"—that fragment gets released."
"Anyone nearby can absorb it. And if they do, they might gain a boost in mana, a surge in power… or even control over your element."
He let that hang in the air a moment.
"That's why Fate Fragments are being hunted. Why awakened mages are being targeted."
"Yes—going out into the world increases your chance of running into Fragment Reapers. But staying here? Staying weak? That's worse."
"Because sooner or later, they'll find you anyway."
Mom's fingers tensed. Her playful expression was gone.
Even Grandpa's usually unreadable gaze dipped toward the table, just for a moment.
And Dad—the most laid-back guy in the family—actually looked worried.
"With mana inflation, people are awakening left and right. But instead of making fragments common, it's made them more desirable than ever."
"Why? Because fragments don't just add power—they shortcut it. No training. No study. No breakthroughs. You just kill. And take. Or sell it for a ridiculous amount of money."
"That's why the Reapers are thriving. In a world where everyone's gaining power… the fastest way to stay on top is by stealing it."
He crossed his arms again—steady. Unshaken.
"They're getting bolder. More obvious. More organized."
Kevin exhaled through his nose.
"If you're going to survive, you need to grow—fast. And the Guild is the best place to start."
Lyra finally spoke—soft, but steady.
"To be honest… if Dan hadn't awakened when he did, I probably would've left the village anyway. Sooner or later, I knew I'd have to find a way."
She looked down at her hands for a moment, then back up—eyes clearer now.
"I know, the idea of dying is scary. I was afraid. Still am."
Her gaze shifted to me—calm, but sure.
"But I always felt... if Dan's around, things will turn out okay."
Then she looked at Grandpa.
"You said it yourself. The ancestor's note. The dice was meant to stay near me. That it would protect me."
She tapped the table next to me.
"So if he's with me... I'll be fine."
A breath.
"I'll go."
I mumbled internally, "Hello? I'm literally right here. Maybe ask my opinion first?"
But, honestly? I was fired up too.
Anything was better than staying cooped up in this village—destined to become a virgin dice collecting dust as a wall ornament.
And maybe... there was a real path forward.
Something warm. A way to make me alive again.
...But obviously, I couldn't say all that.
Not out loud. Not yet.
Hope's a dangerous thing when you've already lost everything once. If I start saying stuff like that, it becomes real. And real means it can be taken away.
So instead, I did what I do best.
I teased her.
"Honestly? I think you're scarier than the Fragment Reapers."
She smiled—small, but real.
"Yeah? Well, if I die out there, I'm haunting you first."
I paused. That wasn't a bluff. That was a Lyra-style promise.
…And somehow, it made my heart clench a little.
She was scared. Still is. But she's facing it anyway.
Damn it, how am I supposed to keep up with that kind of bravery?
Levin leaned forward, glancing at his father.
"So, Dad... does this mean Lyra's coming with us to Nexus City?"
He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to sound casual.
"I mean, we were heading there anyway—even if she didn't tag along."
Then, after a short pause, Lyra turned to the rest of her family.
Her voice lowered again, steady but searching.
"So… Mom, Dad, Grandpa... is it really okay?"
"If I go out there and become an adventurer?"
There was a moment of quiet.
Grandpa answered first. His voice was warm, unshaken.
"I'll be here—waiting to hear your stories.
Just like I did back when your sword was made of wood and your monsters were made of pillows."
Dad sighed, slowly, like he'd been holding this in for a long time.
"I hate this. I really do."
"But I'd hate it more if I kept you from becoming who you're meant to be."
"Since the day you awakened, we knew this was coming.
Your mom and I… we've talked about it. We've prepared for it."
He gave her a small, almost bittersweet smile.
"Go, daughter. Chase the world.
Just remember—you'll always be our little girl.
And this place? It'll always be home."
Mom was last. Her smile wavered—but never fell.
"Sweetie… I want to say no. I want to keep you close, where I can hold you.
Where I don't have to worry every time the wind blows wrong."
"But the way you spoke today… and your resolution..."
She glanced toward the window—
"You've already chosen this path."
"I think someone's already sworn to protect you with everything he has."
"That lets me rest just a little easier."
I was 87% sure she was deliberately not looking at me while saying that.
And like, 100% sure she was cooking something.
Then—
Levin shot to his feet with perfect dramatic timing.
"Yes, ma'am! I swear on my life—I will protect Lyra with everything I've got!"
And yes.
Obviously this guy took the bait.
Levin blinked, confused.
"Huh? Uncle James, why are you looking at me like that? Did I do something wrong?"
James didn't even look up. He just sighed.
"No, kid. I just… pity you."
Levin, chest puffed like a knight in a bedtime story:
"No need! I'm happy to do it for Lyra!"
James muttered under his breath,
"That's what I'm afraid of…"
I'm not sure why, but somehow Kevin just took a long glance at me, before suddenly Lyra interuppted in.
Lyra glanced sideways at Levin, one brow raised.
"You don't have to go that far, you know."
She said it lightly, but her eyes flickered with something more serious.
"But... thanks, it means a lot."
Then she turned to Kevin, her voice shifting back to business:
"So... when do we leave?"
I wobbled slightly on the table.
Guess we're doing this.
Goodbye, peaceful breakfasts. Hello, monster-infested discount inns.
I suppose it felt like just another adventure.
But it wasn't.
Looking back… I should've known.
I never imagined this journey would be where it all fell apart—where truth was buried, and the cracks deepened into something far more broken and twisted than I could've imagined.
And that was before the first scream.