Chapter 50
After the meal, Clara clapped her hands excitedly. "Alright, who's up for a game?" she asked with a mischievous glint in her eye. "We're going to find out who has the most ridiculous memories."
The group exchanged curious glances. "How exactly?" Han asked.
Clara grinned and pulled out a peculiar artifact—a sleek helmet adorned with glowing runes and intricate circuitry. "This is my latest invention. When someone wears it, everyone else in the room can see that person's memories, projected like a shared dream."
Aiden raised an eyebrow, half skeptical but intrigued. "Sounds dangerous… but also hilarious."
"The rules are simple," Clara explained. "We spin this bottle, and whoever it points to has to wear the helmet. Then, everyone else watches their memories play out."
"Let's do it!" Nathan said, reaching for the bottle. He gave it a good spin on the floor.
The bottle twirled like crazy, wobbling between players before finally stopping—and pointing straight at Aiden.
"No no no no no," Aiden panicked internally, his eyes darting frantically. "Not me! Roll it again, please!" he begged, but the group was having none of it.
"Too bad, Aiden," Clara smiled wickedly as she placed the helmet on his head.
The room fell silent. Everyone closed their eyes and braced themselves.
Then the memories began.
Instantly, the entire group burst into laughter.
Aiden's childhood was a comedic goldmine:
Memory 1:
Aiden, ten years old, robs his neighbor's piggy bank because the neighbor "looked at him funny." He spends it all on a necklace for his crush. She returns it… and tells the whole school. He gets thrashed by the teacher, her brother, her grandma, and the piggy bank owner's mom.
Memory 2:
Aiden tries to use a fake mustache to sneak into an adult training class. Trips over a dumbbell and knocks out two front teeth.
Memory 3:
During a talent show, he attempts to rap. Forgets the lyrics. Repeats "Yo, I'm Aiden" thirty-seven times. The teacher calls his mom.
The room exploded with laughter.
Even Ronan, the emotionless war machine, was twitching at the lips.
Aiden dramatically fell to his knees. "I've been betrayed by my own brain!"
The others couldn't stop laughing, tears in their eyes.
Aiden grumbled quietly to himself as the helmet's glow faded, signaling the end of his memory projection. Shaking off the lingering embarrassment, he reached down and spun the bottle again—this time deliberately, hoping for an easy target. The bottle wobbled, spun, then finally came to a stop pointing squarely at Clara.
A sly smile flickered across Clara's lips—then vanished in an instant as she realized what was coming. She darted to get away, but Aiden was faster. With a gleam of playful vengeance in his eyes, he caught her by the arm and gently but firmly placed the glowing helmet on her head.
The room fell into a hush as everyone closed their eyes once more. This time, when the memories began to unfold, the mood shifted completely. Instead of laughter, their mouths hung open in stunned silence, eyes wide with disbelief.
Aiden was the first to break the trance, his voice barely a whisper, "No freaking way… You're… you're the daughter of Reynold Mason?"
Clara's shoulders stiffened beneath the helmet. Reynold Mason—the name carried weight like a thunderclap. The richest man in the world, the visionary founder of I Tech Corporation, the powerhouse behind nearly every technological marvel on Earth and beyond. And if that wasn't enough, Clara's brother was none other than Lord Tech, the legendary Class S hero known across continents.
Aiden blinked, still trying to process it. "So you're Lord Tech's sister… Reynold Mason's daughter… probably the richest girl in existence," he said with a mix of awe and incredulity.
Clara simply nodded, but deep inside, a quiet storm brewed. She wasn't happy. Not with how their eyes lingered differently on her now, as if she were something fragile or distant. Maybe they'd treat her differently—more cautiously, more formally.
Before Clara could say anything, Aiden's face twisted into a cheeky grin. "So, when are we visiting your family vault?" he asked with a teasing tone.
Clara raised an eyebrow. "What? I mean, sure… but—"
"No, no, I mean really visit. Snap some pictures inside the vault. Don't think any weird thoughts," Aiden said, waving a hand as if brushing off any suspicion.
Aiden then turned to Han, speaking loud enough for Clara to hear, as if they were plotting a daring heist: "So, the vault's will probably got triple-layered I Tech security, infrared sensors, and a guard rotation every twenty minutes. We'll sneak in through the ventilation shafts, grab what we can, and make our escape before anyone notices."
Han's eye twitched. The way Aiden spoke, it was like they were partners in crime—when Han definitely wasn't in on any of this.
Aiden, oblivious to Han's growing irritation, continued detailing the "plan." "After the loot, we use the east tunnel under the river to disappear. Simple."
Han had had enough.
"Ifrit!" Han called sharply.
With a flicker of flame, the fiery spirit Ifrit appeared, eyes glowing like molten embers. It wordlessly grasped a massive flaming hammer into existence and brought it crashing down toward Aiden—who had just opened his eyes from the overly detailed explanation.
"Oh no," Aiden thought, just before the blow sent him flying across the room, crashing into a wall and leaving a smoking crater behind.
Clara chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Seems like they will never change."
Aiden groaned, rubbing his sore jaw, cheeks swelling. He shot a glare at Han, who wore a smug smile, standing tall with Ifrit like an intimidating bodyguard at his side.
"I swear,I'll get my own spirit someday....one with better manners."Aiden muttered under his breath.
They spun the bottle again, and this time it pointed at Nathan. Unlike the first two, Nathan didn't resist. The helmet was placed gently on his head.
His memories played out smoothly—normal, balanced: moments of laughter, quiet sadness, heartfelt connections, and everyday life. The group watched, some smiling softly, touched by Nathan's sincerity and humanity.
Then the bottle spun once more, slowing… and stopped on an unexpected figure: Ronan.
Before anyone could react, Ronan stood abruptly, beginning to leave.
"Hey! You can't cheat!" Aiden shouted, frustrated.
"We want to see yours too," Han added, stepping forward with genuine warmth.
Ronan's voice was low and reluctant. "I bet you don't want to see it."
Suddenly, a firm hand gripped his shoulder. He turned to find Han looking at him sincerely. "Show us. We want to understand," Han said quietly.
Ronan's gaze swept across the room. Everyone's eyes held earnest curiosity, a desire to understand what made him so cold and distant—everyone, that is, except Aiden, who just wore his usual smug expression.
Gosh, he's annoying, Ronan thought with a silent sigh.
He sat back down, and the helmet was placed on his head.
The group closed their eyes.
At first, faint smiles appeared on their faces, but then those smiles faded.
One by one, their expressions grew darker—glum, pale, even hollow—as the memories unfolded.
The gloom deepened, washing over the room like a cold shadow.
Their breathing grew heavy; chests heaved with the weight of what they were witnessing.
When the helmet's glow finally dimmed, they all opened their eyes, visibly shaken.
""What the hell did we just see…?" Han whispered, shaken.
"That—" Aiden's voice trembled, "that wasn't a memory."
Clara's voice was quiet, barely audible. "That was a nightmare…"
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To be continued...