The hallway was quiet.
Aiden walked up the stairs like nothing had happened — a blood-soaked sleeve, a half-dried graze along his ribs, and the faint iron scent trailing off his white shirt. He wasn't even limping.
His hand brushed the stair rail casually.
Just another Tuesday.
Except…
"What the hell is that?"
The voice came sharp from the hallway corner.
He turned.
Sophia.
Arms crossed. Eyebrow raised. Expression caught somewhere between shock and serial killer about to snap.
Her eyes zeroed in — not on his wound. Not the blood.
The Glock 17.
Tucked poorly beneath the back of his blazer.
Shit.
"Is that a gun?" she hissed, storming toward him. "Are you seriously— That's a fucking gun, isn't it?!"
Aiden blinked. "...Technically, it's a Glock. 17. Short mag, though."
She didn't laugh.
She grabbed his wrist, yanked him down the hallway, and shoved him into his own room.
Door slammed. Lock clicked.
She turned on him with both hands on her hips.
Her voice came out as half-whisper, half-exorcism."Are you in some kind of gang?!"
He raised an eyebrow. "Do I look like I'd join a gang?"
"EXACTLY! You didn't even talk to strangers until two days ago! You were the walking definition of a campus NPC! Now you've got bullet wounds, a gun, and you walk around like fucking John Wick on casual Friday?!"
Aiden peeled off the blazer without a word.
Underneath, the bloodstain had soaked through his side.
She gawked.
"You're BLEEDING?!"
"Grazed. I've had worse."
She stared like she was trying to calculate how many mental breakdowns this would take.
He casually reached for his shirt buttons next.
Her hand flew up, turning away. "WHY are you undressing now?!"
"I need a shower," he said. "You're the one who dragged me in here."
"Yeah, not for a full strip show!"
He rolled his eyes. "Relax. We used to share bath time when I was 4-5, you're fine."
"THAT WAS LIKE A DECADE AGO, YOU FREAK."
She shoved him with the back of her hand and stomped to the door, muttering to herself.
Before leaving, she stopped just short of the exit.
Still facing away.
"...You weren't like this," she said, quieter now. "Not even two days ago. What happened?"
Aiden pulled off his shirt, ignoring the sting in his ribs.
He didn't answer.
And that silence… was answer enough.
Sophia sighed. Not the exasperated kind — the tired, protective kind.
Then left.
Door clicked shut behind her.
[System Notification]
▸ Smile Points +12▸ Goddess of Domestic Drama is howling with laughter.▸ One-Eyed Warrior God says: "Your sister has sharper instincts than you."
▸ System Remark: Congratulations. You just got caught slipping. Again.▸ Also, don't forget that your white shirt looks like it lost a war with a blender.
He moved to the mirror.
Ripped cloth. Bruise forming along the graze. Dirt. Dust. Dried blood.
He looked alive.
Too alive.
And under his breath, he muttered, "I liked the old me better."
The system, of course, had thoughts.
[System Update]
▸ Pending Quests:
• Investigate Dimensional Rift – Coordinates Locked (Threat Level: C+)• Accept Clean-Up Mission: "Gang Nest – Sector 12B"→ Reward: 30,000 Smile Points (+??? bonus if full kill confirmed)• High Celestial "One Arm Beneath the Moon" offers Sadistic Bonus Objectives
▸ Reminder: Your room smells like blood and stress. Wash it off.
▸ Also Reminder: Your sister is now 46% suspicious, up from 15%.
▸ A Heavenly Bartender comments: "She's cool. Give her a sword."
He muttered, "You're all insane."
The system just pinged him a smiley face.