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Chaos set down the final block of TNT with trembling hands, her mind racing with the weight of her decision. Six months of meticulous work, countless hours of building and perfecting, were about to be obliterated in mere seconds. Yet, despite the gnawing ache of loss, something about this moment felt disturbingly right. She took one last look around her base—a once-cozy hobbit hole, nestled snugly into the hillside, its charm unmistakable even in the dim light of the stormy night. Then, with a deep, shuddering breath, she pulled out her flint and steel and struck it.
The spark caught. Chaos hesitated, watching the fuse sputter to life. For a few heartbeats, she remained frozen in place, as if the enormity of her actions hadn’t fully hit her. Then instinct took over. She bolted for the door, her feet pounding against the muddy ground as she dashed out into the pouring rain. Each drop stung her exposed skin, sharp and unrelenting, but she didn’t slow down. She had to get away.
Behind her, the fuse burned down. Time seemed to stretch unbearably thin, the seconds dragging on as if the world itself held its breath. And then, in one cataclysmic instant, it happened.
The explosion tore through the night, a massive shockwave that sent Chaos flying. She crashed into the cold, unyielding glass of the iron farm, her body aching from the impact. Her wide eyes caught sight of what remained of her hobbit hole—or rather, what didn’t remain. The once-beautiful sanctuary was reduced to rubble, its vibrant charm annihilated in a flash of light and sound.
And yet... she felt nothing. No triumph. No relief. No regret. Only a hollow, empty void.
Silence followed, so profound it pressed against her ears, broken only by a faint ringing that grew louder with each passing moment. The adrenaline began to fade, replaced by a creeping, suffocating regret. She had kriffed up—there was no other way to put it. Her hands trembled as she pushed herself upright, the rain biting into her skin. Pain radiated from every inch of her body, but it was nothing compared to the ache in her chest.
She had nowhere to go. The base she had poured her heart into was gone, reduced to a pile of scorched earth. A lump formed in her throat, and tears mingled with the rain, both running unchecked down her face. Slowly, her eyes lifted toward the nearby mountain. There, at the top, lay her only hope: Midnight’s house.
Midnight, her neighbor, might help her—or she might not. The two didn’t exactly have the best history, thanks to Chaos’s pranks. The thought of being turned away gnawed at her resolve, but she didn’t have any other options. Her body screamed for relief, her skin burning and raw from the rain’s relentless assault.
With shaky legs and a heart heavy with doubt, Chaos began the climb. The journey was grueling, each step harder than the last. By the time she reached the top, she was a wreck—her muscles trembling, her lungs burning, her tears now flowing freely in a torrent indistinguishable from the rain.
And still, she hesitated. Standing before Midnight’s door, her fist hovered mid-air. Her pride warred with her desperation, her mind spinning with every possible scenario. What if Midnight turned her away? What if she laughed?
The pain in Chaos’s body cut through her spiral of doubt, grounding her. Gritting her teeth, she knocked on the door. The sound was soft at first, then louder as she mustered the strength to try again. The storm roared around her, but all Chaos could hear was the frantic pounding of her own heart.
It was a rainy day, and no one expected a storm, not even Midnight, with her keen avian senses. She was busy organizing her storage, replacing her set of enchanted books. Someone had been stealing the old ones, and although she had a good idea of who the culprit was, that wasn’t the main concern right now. What mattered was why she had just heard an explosion from the side of the mountain.
Did lightning hit the TNT wall? she wondered. That’s impossible— it was rigged so that couldn’t happen...
Midnight looked out the window. The once bright sky had turned an angry shade of gray, and the sounds of the storm echoed faintly, even through the thick walls of her storage room. She set everything down, her wings twitching as a creeping feeling of dread started to rise.
Something's wrong.
Old memories began to resurface, making it worse. She could hear the TNT raining down on the front lines again, feel the heat and the burns her friends had taken, the cries of the soldiers. The echoes of battle were loud in her mind–
You're being paranoid again… stop thinking so much and breathe .
Midnight took a deep breath and realized she had already climbed halfway up the ladder to the top of her house. She slumped against the ladder for a moment, silently scolding herself for getting lost in her own thoughts again. This is why I lose track of time, she thought bitterly.
Peace is a blessing.. time to just be, without always looking over my shoulder.
But Void , peace was hard to maintain. No need to worry about anything is just as hard.
As she began to descend the ladder, trying to brush off the uneasy feeling– a soft knock echoed from the front door. Midnight’s heart skipped a beat. She was always cautious, maybe overly so, but one thing she knew for sure, her instincts were sharp with self awareness for a reason and so that’s more concerning than her own thoughts right now, Someone is here .
Who would come up to the mountain in this awful weather?
She quickly climbed to the top to open the door. Maybe it’s just the wind, she told herself. Or perhaps someone needed a place to stay away from the storm. Which is weird considering the town is right at the bottom of the mountain and more safer than coming up here and anyone coming through the Nether Portal could easily go back. So how—
As soon as the door opened, Midnight almost screeched, her avian reflexes kicking in.
Almost.
She looked down and saw a familiar face.
Standing there, drenched to the bone, was Chaos .
“Get inside, quickly,” Midnight said, her voice steady, though her mind was freaking out, badly . She felt like she was on the verge of panic but was surprised by how calm she sounded.
Without wasting time, she rushed to grab a potion. Midnight always kept her stock full, but she had never been more thankful for her habit of over preparing than in that moment. She found the water resistant and healing potions she had specifically made for those kinds of potions for people she cared about in this domain.
Flying back inside,her wings fluttering nervously as she poured both over Chaos, watching as the magic did its work, trying not to let the worried noise bubbling up inside her slip out.
Fledgling, hurt, protect… Fledgling, needs comfort… Must—
No! Not now. Midnight forced herself to push away the protective instincts surging within her. Chaos didn’t need a smothering, overprotective bird brain right now. She needs a stable adult who can talk to her.
Midnight yanked off her blue sweater a bit too quickly, her wings protesting in discomfort. She handed it to Chaos, but that was when she finally really looked at the child.
Chaos’s once-bright, brilliant eyes were now dark and shadowed, filled with something Midnight hadn’t seen in her before..
The storm raged outside as Midnight stared at Chaos, the sight of the drenched child, her heart in the midst of the brewing panic. Chaos, usually so lively, was now silent and introspective, her bright eyes dulled by whatever had transpired to bring her to Midnight’s door. The air felt charged, not just with the electricity of the storm, but with an unspoken tension, as if the very atmosphere clung to Chaos, heavy and suffocating.
Midnight’s thoughts were racing. What had happened to her? Why was she out here in the storm? The questions collided with memories of the past—old fears resurfacing, memories of battle, and friends lost. She clenched her jaw, fighting to remain present, refusing to let the familiar terror take hold. Chaos needed her now.
"Here," Midnight said softly, draping the oversized sweater over Chaos. It hung loose on her small frame, but the warmth was more than just physical. Midnight tried to steady herself, focusing on the present moment, not the whirlpool of memories threatening to drag her under. She needed to understand what had happened, but the fragile state Chaos was in demanded care and patience.
“Take a moment, breathe,” she said, crouching down to meet Chaos's eyes. “You’re safe here.”
The girl didn't respond right away, just hugged the sweater tighter around herself, shivering slightly. Midnight’s mind flashed again to the explosion she had heard, the lightning striking the hill—could it have been connected to Chaos’s sudden appearance?
"You didn't… come up here alone, did you?" Midnight asked cautiously, trying to mask the growing sense of dread creeping up her spine.
Chaos shifted but still said nothing. Midnight’s wings twitched in response, the protective instinct she had tried to tamp down flaring up once more. Fledgling, hurt, protect, fledgling…
She inhaled deeply, grounding herself. "It's okay," she said, her voice softer this time. "You don’t have to talk until you're ready."
Chaos’s head tilted slightly, her eyes catching Midnight's for the brief moment before looking away again. Midnight stayed close, giving her space but not leaving her side. Something had driven the child through the storm, something that had dulled those vibrant eyes. Midnight wasn’t going to press her yet, but she knew that whatever Chaos had faced, it was serious.
The storm continued to rage outside, but inside the quiet of the house, Midnight felt a different storm brewing—a personal one, where old wounds collided with new fears, and where protecting this child meant more than just shelter from the rain.
Chaos sat in the oversized sweater, clutching it tightly as though it were the only thing tethering her to reality. The warmth seeped into her skin, battling the cold that had settled deep in her bones. Her hands shook, not from the storm outside but from the tempest within. Midnight’s quiet presence was both reassuring and overwhelming. Chaos knew she was safe here, but the weight of what she’d done—what she’d destroyed—pressed down on her like a physical force.
She couldn’t meet Midnight’s gaze again. The fleeting moment when their eyes had locked had been enough to send a fresh wave of guilt crashing over her. Midnight had looked worried—truly worried—and Chaos hated being the cause of it. The avian woman was always so composed, so prepared, but Chaos could see the cracks forming in her calm demeanor. It made her feel even smaller.
“You’re still shivering,” Midnight said softly, her voice low and steady, though Chaos could hear the underlying strain. The sound of glass clinking drew her attention, and she glanced up just enough to see Midnight pouring another potion into a small cup. “Drink this. It’ll help with the cold.”
Chaos hesitated. The guilt gnawed at her. She didn’t deserve this kindness, not after what she’d done. But the stern look Midnight gave her left no room for argument. Slowly, she reached out, her fingers brushing against Midnight’s as she took the cup. The warmth of the potion spread through her as she sipped it, soothing her raw throat and chasing away the lingering chill.
Midnight perched on the edge of a chair, her wings folded tightly against her back. She seemed to be fighting some internal battle of her own, her fingers drumming a soft, erratic rhythm on the armrest. Chaos knew that look—she’d seen it before, right before Midnight had given her an exasperated lecture about one of her pranks. But this time, there was no frustration in her eyes. Only concern.
“You didn’t come here just because of the storm,” Midnight said at last, breaking the silence. It wasn’t a question, but a statement, gentle yet firm. “Something happened. I heard the explosion.”
Chaos flinched, her hands tightening around the empty cup. She didn’t trust herself to speak, not yet. Her throat felt tight, her words trapped under the weight of her shame.
“Chaos.” Midnight leaned forward, her wings twitching slightly. Her tone softened even more, almost pleading. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m not going to be angry.”
That was the breaking point. Chaos’s tears came in a flood, her breath hitching as she tried to hold back the sobs threatening to escape. Midnight was there in an instant, pulling her into a gentle hug. The embrace was warm and feather-soft, and for a moment, Chaos felt like a child again, sheltered from the world’s harshness.
“I ruined it,” Chaos choked out between sobs. Her words tumbled over each other, incoherent and raw. “I ruined everything. My base… it’s gone. I—I didn’t know what else to do.”
Midnight’s arms tightened around her. “Your base?” she asked carefully, her voice still calm despite the protective fury Chaos could feel radiating from her. “What do you mean it’s gone?”
“I blew it up,” Chaos whispered, her voice barely audible.
Midnight froze, the tension in her body palpable. Chaos braced herself for the scolding she knew she deserved, but it never came. Instead, Midnight let out a slow, steady breath, her wings shifting as if to wrap around them both.
“Why?” Midnight asked after a long pause.
Chaos hesitated, the question hanging heavy in the air. She didn’t know how to explain it—how the base had started to feel like a cage, how every block she’d placed had become a reminder of her mistakes, her failures. How the only way she’d known to move forward was to destroy it all.
“I don’t know,” she admitted finally, her voice trembling. “I just… I couldn’t stay there anymore.”
Midnight nodded slowly, as though she understood more than Chaos had said. She pulled back just enough to look at Chaos, her sharp eyes soft with empathy. “You don’t have to figure it all out tonight,” she said. “But you’re not going to do this alone. Whatever it is, we’ll work through it together.”
Chaos blinked up at her, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over. “But I messed everything up—”
“No,”
Midnight interrupted firmly. “You’re not 'messed up.' You're a kid trying to figure things out, and sometimes that means being imperfect and having challenges. Significant ones. But that doesn't mean you're alone”
Not knowing what else to do, Chaos practically flew into Midnight's arms, tears pouring freely from her purple eyes as she ignored the stinging pain from the water burns.
Midnight held Chaos tightly, her wings wrapping around the child. The storm outside raged on, but inside, the air felt warmer, more secure. Midnight stroked Chaos's hair gently, her heart heavy yet determined. She didn't speak immediately, allowing the child to cry as much as she needed. Tears were cathartic, she knew that well, and in this moment, Chaos needed comfort more than explanations.
How long had Chaos carried this weight alone?
Midnight’s mind raced, but she knew better than to push her for answers right now. The explosion, the base—it wasn’t just about the destruction of a place. It was about something deeper, a struggle Midnight could sense, and that stirred her protective instincts more fiercely than ever.
As Chaos's sobs began to subside, Midnight spoke softly, her voice low and steady. “It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to feel lost sometimes. But you’re stronger than you think, Chaos.”
She shifted slightly, pulling back just enough to look into the girl's eyes. The pain and uncertainty reflected back at her made her heart ache, but she stayed composed, her eyes steady and filled with understanding.
“Listen to me,” Midnight continued, her voice firm yet gentle. “Whatever happened, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t define who you are. What matters is how you face it and move forward and you don’t have to do that alone.”
Chaos sniffled, her voice small and shaky. “But… I broke everything. I don’t know how to fix it.”
Midnight smiled softly, brushing a strand of wet hair from Chaos’s face. “You don’t have to fix everything by yourself,” she said, her voice full of reassurance.
“We can rebuild it together, piece by piece. Sometimes things fall apart so we can build something stronger.”
The child looked up at her, still unsure, but there was a flicker of hope in her eyes, a small light that Midnight clung to. She wasn’t sure what had driven Chaos to destroy her own base, but she could see the weight of regret and confusion in her expression. Midnight knew the feeling all too well.. the urge to destroy, to erase the past.. The pain you feel. But she also knew the importance of having someone there to guide you through it.
“We’ll start over,” Midnight continued, her voice unwavering.
“I’ll help you. We’ll figure out what you want to do next, and we’ll make it happen.”
“But… what if I mess up again?” Chaos looked up, her tear-streaked face still uncomfortable with the idea.
Midnight’s wings shifted slightly, settling around them both like a blanket. “Then we’ll clean up the mess,” she said simply. “That’s how life works. You stumble, you fall, and then you get up again. And I’ll be right here, helping you get back on your feet.”
There was a long silence as Chaos absorbed her words, and then, slowly, she nodded. Midnight smiled softly, feeling a small surge of relief. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. Midnight stood up, extending a hand to Chaos.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get you out of these wet clothes and make some warm nest together. Then we can talk about what you want to do next tomorrow.” Chaos hesitated for a moment before reaching up and taking Midnight’s hand. Midnight pulled her gently to her feet, her wings twitching slightly as she led the child inside.
The storm outside was still fierce, but here, in this small moment, Midnight had created a pocket of calm, a place where Chaos could feel safe.
As they walked deeper into the house, Midnight glanced out the window. Something was happening, something bigger than either of them knew. But for now, Midnight’s focus was on the child beside her.
We would deal with everything else when the time came. Together…
Midnight guided Chaos deeper into the house, her thoughts swirling even as she kept her outward composure. The storm outside was a constant reminder of the chaos brewing, not just in the skies but within herself as well. Something gnawed at the edges of her mind..
Now wasn’t the time to focus on it.
As they walked, she could hear the soft patter of Chaos’s footsteps beside her, each step tentative, like the child was still bracing herself for the worst. Midnight squeezed her hand gently, trying to offer silent reassurance. You're safe here, she thought, though she knew the weight of fear wasn’t easily lifted.
She led Chaos to the bedroom, both of our wings trailing softly behind, brushing against the walls. "I'll get some dry clothes for you," she said softly, giving Chaos a gentle nudge toward the bed. The girl nodded, still too quiet, but at least there was no resistance.
Midnight moved to a chest nearby, pulling out a set of comfortable clothes for Chaos to change into. As she handed them over, she watched Chaos disappear behind the privacy of the changing screen, the fabric rustling faintly as the child struggled out of her wet garments.
With a sigh, Midnight turned her attention to making the nest more comfortable.
She was used to sleeping in solitude, her wings spread out to take up the entire space. But now, she needed to create something that could hold them both, something cozy, protective, a place where Chaos would feel secure.
And for my own sanity that I really want to be overprotective over this child too-
Midnight began rearranging the blankets and pillows, her hands moving with practiced ease. As she worked, her thoughts wandered back to the explosion. Why destroy everything? It wasn’t just a physical structure that Chaos had obliterated. Midnight understood all too well the symbolism behind such an act..
the desperate need to wipe the slate clean, to erase the reminders of failure, of pain. Midnight herself had once been tempted to do the same, long ago, in a different lifetime.
Her wings twitched at the memory, the old ache of past mistakes surfacing for just a moment before she pushed it away. Now wasn’t the time for her own burdens.
I needed to be here, present, for Chaos . So don’t even think about it.
The nest was coming together nicely, a soft nest of warmth and safety. Midnight adjusted the final pillow, making sure everything was perfect. As she stood back to survey her work, her mind circled back to the storm outside. The tension in the air wasn’t just from the weather—it felt like the world itself was shifting, teetering on the edge of something. Midnight had been in enough battles, survived enough conflicts, to recognize when a storm wasn’t just about rain and thunder. Something was coming, and Chaos’s destruction of her base was likely tied to it.
But for now, she wouldn’t let that worry take over. Not here. Not tonight .
Chaos emerged from behind the screen, dressed in the dry clothes Midnight had given her. She looked small, but there was a flicker of determination in her purple eyes, like she was trying to hold herself together even as she wavered.
Midnight smiled gently, beckoning her over. “Come on,” she said, patting the spot beside her in the newly made nest. “It’s warm here.”
Chaos hesitated for just a moment before climbing into the nest. Midnight wrapped her wings around them both, creating a soft, protective barrier between them and the outside world. Chaos leaned into her side, still quiet but visibly more at ease.
Midnight’s thoughts churned beneath the surface, the protective instinct burning brighter with each passing second.
I will go through all of it just to keep you safe if that's what it takes.
The storm outside starts to quiet down and Chaos seems to fall asleep for a while now as Midnight sits up to keep watching her surrounding out of her habit.. to make sure that everything will be alright for Chaos to sleep at least.
Her mind briefly flickered back to her own wings had been through so much, both physically and emotionally. It had been a long time since she’d let herself fully relax them.
The mechanical constructs on her wing. The artifact that I had designed to give myself the ability to fly again , had become an almost permanent fixture in her life.
But now, she felt the weight of them more than usual, the tension building in her muscles, the dull ache she had grown used to over the centuries making itself known. Slowly, deliberately. Midnight reached up, her fingers gently brushing the metal clasps and delicate wiring that kept the artifact secured in place. With a soft sigh, she began to unfasten it.
One by one, the mechanisms released with quiet clicks, the tension in her wings easing as the weight of the artifact fell away.
Midnight inhaled sharply as the familiar sensation of relief washed over her, but with it came the stark reminder of her weakness.
As she finally removed the artifact completely, Midnight spread her wings wide, giving them room to stretch after being confined for so long. But as they unfurled, her left wing faltered— limp , Midnight winced slightly, feeling the imbalance, but she did not hide it. She never did. The left wing,
Broken as it was, was still mine, still a part of my identity, even if it no longer worked as it once did.
She gave her wings a slow, testing flap, the right wing moving with ease, while the left wing twitched, sluggish and uneven in its motion. Midnight exhaled quietly, resigned to the familiar feeling. She was used to it by now.. the heaviness, the pull of something that was once so strong but now fragile.
With her wings spread, the air felt different, the losses she had endured. But it also reminded her of her resilience. She may not fly with the same grace she once had, but she had found a way to fly again, nonetheless.
Midnight flexed her wings once more, allowing them to rest in a half-open position, the soft white feathers catching the dim light in the room. As she turned back to Chaos, she noticed the child’s eyes lingering on her wings for a moment, curiosity and perhaps concern flickering in her gaze.
Midnight smiled gently, her expression calm despite the vulnerability she felt. “They aren’t perfect,” she said quietly, “but they still work.”
Chaos said nothing, but she shuffled closer, a small gesture of understanding. Midnight let her wings rest on Chaos, the left one drooping slightly as she returned to lay beside the child. The weight of the removed artifact still lingered on her, but for now, in this moment of quiet, Midnight allowed herself to simply relax… broken wings and all .
Though, She focused on the blanket. On the warmth of the nest, the quiet of the room, and the small, lovely child resting against her. They would deal with the rest, whatever that is…
As Midnight and Chaos slowly relaxed into the nest, the storm outside gradually began to quiet. The heavy rain slowed to a gentle pattern, and the howling winds softened into a distant whisper. Midnight wrapped a wing protectively around Chaos, her presence offering warmth and comfort.
Within moments, the room fell into a peaceful stillness. Chaos, her breathing steady now, drifted into sleep, and Midnight soon followed, her own thoughts finally at rest. By the time both were fast asleep, the storm had stopped entirely, leaving only the soft sound of raindrops tapping against the windows, as if the world outside had found peace, too.
The first thing Chaos noticed when she woke was the warmth. The steady, secure weight of a wing draped over her, the soft press of blankets against her skin. For a moment, she stayed still, blinking slowly, letting herself sink into the quiet.
She wasn’t used to this. Safety.
Her fingers curled into the fabric of the nest, feeling the softness, the comfort. The storm had passed—she could tell by the way the air felt lighter, no longer charged with the weight of something about to break. Midnight was still beside her, her breathing deep and even. One of her wings had slipped slightly, leaving Chaos enough room to shift without disturbing her.
She should have felt better. Safer. But the gnawing unease from before hadn’t gone away. It clung to the edges of her thoughts, whispering at the back of her mind.
Her breath hitched slightly as she turned onto her side, staring at the dim light filtering through the curtains. The events of the past day pressed in on her. The explosion. The aftermath. The way her own body had shaken, her hands still tingling with the remnants of what she’d done.
She hadn’t meant to destroy everything.
Not really.
But the weight of it all had been too much. The memories, the failure, the crushing knowledge that no matter what she did, she couldn’t fix what was already broken. She thought maybe, just maybe, if she wiped it all away, it would feel different. Lighter. Less suffocating.
But it hadn’t.
The emptiness had just followed her here.
Chaos swallowed hard, shifting slightly under Midnight’s wing. The avian stirred but didn’t wake, her body warm and steady beside her. A reminder that she wasn’t alone.
The thought sent something sharp through her chest, an unfamiliar ache that made her want to curl in on herself. She wasn’t sure how to sit with this—being protected, being cared for. It felt too fragile, too temporary. Like if she reached for it, it would slip through her fingers.
Her gaze flickered toward Midnight’s wings. The left one still rested at an awkward angle, the damage clear even in the dim light. Chaos had noticed it before, but now, in the stillness, she let herself really look. Midnight had called them imperfect. But Chaos thought they were… something else.
Proof that even after breaking, things could still move forward.
She wasn’t sure what made her do it, but she shifted again, hesitantly reaching out. Her fingers barely brushed against the feathers, soft but strong beneath her touch. Midnight didn’t stir, only breathing deeply, as if the weight of exhaustion had finally settled over her.
Chaos let her hand drop, pulling it back to her chest. She shouldn’t wake her. Midnight had already done enough—offered her safety, a place to rest. That should have been enough.
And yet…
Chaos turned her head, pressing her face against Midnight’s side. Just for a moment. Just until the uneasy feeling passed.
She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to hold onto this. The warmth, the quiet, the steady beat of another heart beside hers.
For now, she would let herself have this.
Chaos wasn’t sure how much time passed as she lay there, curled under Midnight’s wing. The warmth around her felt like a barrier against everything outside this room, against the weight of her own thoughts. She listened to Midnight’s steady breathing, the slow rise and fall of her chest, the occasional soft rustle of feathers as she shifted slightly in her sleep.
It was… comforting. Safe in a way Chaos could barely comprehend. She had spent so much of her life bracing for things to go wrong, for warmth to be fleeting, for safety to be a trick of the light that disappeared the moment she reached for it. But Midnight hadn’t pushed her away. Hadn’t told her she was too much, too broken, too dangerous to be around.
Even after the explosion. Even after everything.
Her fingers curled into the fabric of the blankets, gripping them tightly as if grounding herself. It was quiet now. The storm had passed, but inside her, something still churned. The weight of what she had done. The knowledge that there was no undoing it.
She had destroyed her home.
No, not home .
It had never really felt like one. Just a place she had built, a place she had tried to fill with something that might resemble belonging. But no matter how many walls she put up, how many things she gathered, it had always felt empty. Like a hollow shell pretending to be something more.
And in a single moment, she had wiped it all away.
Chaos exhaled slowly, pressing her forehead against Midnight’s side. She felt small here, but for once, it didn’t feel like a bad thing. Just… a fact. A truth she didn’t have to fight.
Her mind flickered back to the moment before she’d detonated it all. The way her fingers had trembled, the way her heart had pounded, the way everything in her screamed to do it, to erase it all before it could trap her again.
But the aftermath… it hadn’t been what she expected.
She had expected to feel free.
Instead, she had only felt lost.
She shifted slightly, her movements careful, not wanting to wake Midnight. But as she did, the avian stirred, her breathing changing ever so slightly. Chaos froze, waiting.
Midnight didn’t open her eyes right away. She inhaled deeply, exhaling in a slow, steady sigh before murmuring, “You’re awake.”
It wasn’t a question.
Chaos hesitated before nodding, realizing too late that Midnight couldn’t see it. “…Yeah.”
Midnight shifted, her arm moving just enough to pull Chaos closer, the gesture instinctive. “Nightmares?” she asked, her voice heavy with sleep.
Chaos shook her head. “Just… thinking.”
Midnight was quiet for a moment before she said, “Dangerous habit.”
Chaos huffed softly. It wasn’t quite a laugh, but it was close enough. Midnight’s hand moved to rest lightly on her back, not pushing, just there. A solid presence. A reminder that she wasn’t alone.
For a long time, neither of them spoke. The rain outside had settled into a soft drizzle, occasional drops tapping against the window in a slow, rhythmic pattern.
Finally, Chaos whispered, “I don’t know why I did it.”
Midnight didn’t ask what she meant. She just listened.
“I just… I wanted it gone. I wanted it to stop feeling like it was swallowing me whole.” Chaos swallowed hard, her fingers tightening on the blankets. “But after it was gone, I didn’t feel better. I just felt… empty.”
Midnight let out a slow breath. “Sometimes destruction feels like the only way to move forward,” she murmured. “Like if you erase everything that hurts you, you can start over without it.”
Chaos nodded, barely perceptible.
“But the hurt doesn’t disappear with the rubble,” Midnight continued. “It stays. Lingers. Until you figure out what to do with it.”
Chaos closed her eyes. “I don’t know what to do with it.”
Midnight’s hand moved in slow, steady circles on her back, a silent comfort. “You don’t have to figure it out right now,” she said softly. “You just have to keep moving forward.”
Chaos wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be reassuring or not. But she didn’t have the energy to argue.
“…Okay.”
Midnight hummed, a quiet sound of acknowledgment. Neither of them spoke again for a while, but the silence wasn’t heavy. It was just… there. Existing between them without demanding anything.
Chaos let herself relax, just a little.
The warmth of the nest, the steady presence of Midnight beside her—it was enough. Maybe not forever, maybe not even for long, but for now.
And for now, that was all she needed.
Midnight woke up just before dawn, the sky still dark, only a faint light starting to touch the horizon. She blinked slowly, feeling the cool air in the room as she stirred from her place in the nest. Quietly, she pulled the blanket up around Chaos, who was still asleep, her hair a wild mess of tangled strands.
Midnight couldn't help but smile softly at the sight and maybe she did almost laugh at the mess of her hair.
Midnight stood, stretching her wings slightly, feeling the familiar ache where the artifact had been strapped for so long. She let her wing settle gently as she stood, careful not to disturb the peace of the moment.
The house was quiet like usual, no more storm outside today, she moved toward the kitchen, her steps soft on the wooden floor. The dim light of early dawn filtered through the windows, casting a pale glow across the room.
As she reached the kitchen, she set the kettle on the stove with a gentle clink and pulled out the prepping ingredients from the nearby shelves. The familiar scent of bread baking in the oven filled the air, comforting and warm, wrapping the kitchen in its soft embrace. It was a lovely smell, a small joy that remained steady. Her hands moved through the motions without much thought about her routine to do this everyday, laying out tea leaves, fresh herbs, and extra cocoa powder. The soft dim light of the early morning bathed the kitchen, casting long shadows across the countertop.
The rhythm of her movement felt soothing, something she had done countless times before. It has become a daily habit.
As she measured the tea leaves, her mind wandered, though not far. Thoughts of Chaos still lingered, and the memories of what had happened yesterday rested lightly in the back of her mind and surprisingly her instincts were quite content this morning, she couldn’t explain why. Yet, for now, this moment was simple.
How long has it been since I had mornings like this with someone in my house? she thought, her fingers tracing the edge of the countertop as she waited for the kettle to heat.
There was so much conflict on the server since before I arrived. Peace has always felt like a short time to breathe, before it could fall apart at any moment.
She glanced over her shoulder toward the nest where Chaos still slept, she can imagine her chest rising and falling gently under the blanket. Midnight felt a familiar ache in her heart, not just for Chaos, but for the world they lived in.
How many times have I had to start over? How many more times will she?
But this moment, with the smell of bread baking and the quiet of the morning, was a small truce. A brief moment to return to something more comfortable, even if it was a nice time. She knew better than to cling too tightly to these moments, but she also knew their value. They were the moments that kept her going.
The kettle began to whistle softly, and Midnight turned back to the stove, pouring the hot water into a small pot to steep the tea. She worked quietly, her thoughts moving as slowly as the dawn breaking outside.
Midnight set the small table by the window, arranging everything with care. The sky outside was still painted with the deep blues of early morning, but the first hints of the rising sun were beginning to light the horizon. She placed the morning glory bread in the center, the warm, sweet scent filling the air. Beside it, she set her cup of tea and Chaos's mug of hot chocolate, a comforting contrast to the chilly dawn.
She stood for a moment, breathing in the lingering scent of rain, eyes on the puddles scattered across the ground. Soft light started spilling over the mountain.
The quiet of the house was suddenly interrupted by the faint sound of movement from the nest. Midnight’s sharp hearing caught the sound of Chaos stirring as she began to wake.
Smiling to herself, Midnight turned and walked back inside, her wings twitching slightly as she moved.
She gathered the remaining things from the kitchen, placing the loaf pan in the sink, the gentle clink of dishes the only sound as she cleaned up. The calm of the morning ground her mind. As she finished tidying up, her thoughts drifted to Chaos. The little one had faced so much, more than she should have at her age. But there was strength in her, she could see it, feel it .
She would help guide and be there when Chaos needed it. It was the least she could do for someone who had faced so much already, and she never wanted to see Chaos cried like that again, never again .
With the kitchen clean and the morning light slowly filling the house, Midnight wiped her hands on a towel, glancing toward the window where the table waited for them. Today, they would sit and talk a bit.
Midnight walked back toward the nest, noticing Chaos sitting up, looking around as if searching for something—or maybe someone. Perhaps it was her. After all, she had promised to be there for her. But a bit of time to prepare food and clear her mind before starting the day is also important.
As she approached, she couldn’t help but smile slightly. People often told her she woke up too early, and she supposed they weren’t wrong. But mornings like these gave her the peace she needed to settle her thoughts before facing the day ahead.
“Morning,” Midnight greeted softly, stepping closer to Chaos. “Breakfast is ready when you are. I even make some hot chocolate for you”
Chaos looked up at her, eyes still blurry from sleep, but there was a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Hot chocolate?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.
“That sounds nice…”
Midnight chuckled lightly. “I figured you could use something warm after last night.” She sat on the edge of the nest, her wings folding neatly behind her.
“Take your time getting up, no rush. It's still early.”
Chaos nodded, her gaze softening as she relaxed slightly. “Thank you… for everything.”
Midnight reached out, giving her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. “You don’t have to thank me. You’re not alone, remember?” She stood up, her wings giving a small flutter. “I’ll be at the table. Join me when you're ready.” As she turned to walk back to the kitchen, what she didn’t see was Chaos watching her back with relief.
For a while her fingers loosely wrapped around her tea cup as she watched the sun inching its way into the sky, casting soft, golden light against the window. She didn’t turn right away when she heard the door creak open behind her, already sensing the familiar presence with her instinct.
Chaos, still a mess of bedhead and sleepy eyes, padded softly to her seat. Midnight caught the glimmer in her eyes as the scent of the fresh-baked bread hit her before she even sat down properly.
“Freshly baked Morning Glory Bread with cocoa powder. I don’t know if you like seeds, so I just make a simple one,” Midnight said, her voice warm but calm. She placed the bread knife down near Chaos’s plate. “Go on, help yourself. I know you've been eyeing that since you walked outside.”
Chaos grinned, a bit sheepish but clearly excited. Midnight watched her for a moment, amused, her heart feeling just a little lighter at seeing that spark of interest in Chaos’s gaze.
Midnight took a sip of her tea, letting the peaceful moment stretch out. The world outside would have its demands soon enough, but for now, it is just a simple day for both of them.
The gentle morning breeze brushed past them, a soft greeting from the world outside. Midnight sat quietly, the warmth of the sunlight, the soft rustle of leaves. Chaos, sitting at the table, munching on the bread with a small, contented smile. In another hand, Chaos held on to the hot chocolate, savoring each sip as if it was the best thing she’d ever tasted.
Midnight hummed quietly to herself, enjoying the peaceful moment. This was why she always set the table out front, where the day could greet them, and the air felt like a gentle greeting. There was something healing about it.
She fought to keep the smile from spreading too wide, though she couldn’t help the warmth that bloomed in her chest. Watching Chaos like this—happy, relaxed, caught in a moment, this felt right . This was what a child was supposed to look like. Carefree, even if just for a little while.
And maybe she could surprise the child with every recipe she could think of and get to see her relax like this more often as she should be everyday—
Midnight’s hand paused mid-air as the thought took her by surprise. She found herself wanting Chaos to stay like this, to enjoy more peaceful mornings with her.
The idea stuck in her mind longer than she had expected . Chaos was already comfortable here, and the thought of telling her dad that she was definitely not okay right now seems reasonable but she visited his place a while ago and it was definitely not safe for a child to live there as it is still in working progress, even now. Bug wasn’t around the server right now either.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so different if Chaos stayed here a little longer. Midnight was tempted to just let her stay. The house was spacious, the mountain provided protection, and the mornings were always calm like this. Chaos could find some peace here, at least until things felt more settled.
But then again, it wasn’t her decision alone. Maybe she should ask Chaos how she felt about it.
Midnight’s thoughts wrestled between the practicality and her protective instincts. She glanced over at Chaos, still eating, oblivious to the internal conflict swirling in her head.
“Do you want to move in with me?”
Chaos froze mid-bite, the last piece of bread in her hand, and looked up at Midnight with wide eyes. The question hung in the air, unexpected and sudden. Midnight’s heart skipped a beat as she realized what she had just said, and her face flushed slightly as her wings almost puffed up in embarrassment. She hadn't meant to blurt it out so bluntly, but now that the words were out, she couldn’t take them back.
“Uh, I mean…” Midnight stumbled over her words, unsure of how to soften the blow. “You know, if you feel like it, you could stay here. It's not much, but…” She trailed off, glancing away, trying to hide the sudden vulnerability she felt.
Chaos stared at her for a long moment, her messy hair falling into her eyes. Her face was a mix of confusion and curiosity, as if the offer was both a surprise and something she hadn’t considered. She hesitated, then put the bread down on the plate.
“You want me to stay here?” Chaos finally asked, her voice quiet but tinged with something she couldn’t explain.
Midnight nodded slowly, trying to keep her tone casual, though her emotions felt anything but worries. “Yeah, I mean... If you’re okay with it. You don’t have to, of course but I know you don’t have anywhere to go right now, Bug isn’t here to answer my call either. I just thought, well, with everything going on... it might be safer here for you. And I don't know how you feel about this, I just think you’d be happy here, if you wanted to.”
Chaos’s gaze dropped to the table, her fingers nervously playing with the edge of her plate. Midnight could see the emotion clouding her eyes. Midnight’s heart ached for her. Chaos had been through so much already, and now, being asked to make a decision like this— it was a lot .
She shook her head slightly , But I can’t let her go now, she thought and her instinct agreed softly against the back of her mind.
Not after she came to me like this. She needs someone who can hear her asking for help when she can't say it with her own voice.
“I don’t… I don’t want to disturb you,” Chaos whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. Midnight's expression softened, and she reached across the table, placing a hand gently over Chaos’s head and ruffling her hair softly before pulling her hand out to place on the table.
“You're not disturbing me dear. You never were. This is your choice, okay? No pressure.”
Chaos stayed quiet for a moment longer, the decision clearly heavy on her shoulders. Then, slowly, she lifted her head, her eyes meeting Midnight.
“I think…” Chaos began, her voice still unsure, but with a flicker of hope . “I think I’d like that. Maybe… maybe it would be nice to have somewhere safe for a while.”
Midnight’s heart swelled with relief, and she couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. She reached out to squeeze Chaos’s hand gently.
“Okay, then. It’s settled.”
Midnight allowed herself to fully relax, knowing that maybe, just maybe, they could build something together here.
She smiled softly, thinking about the new room. She hadn’t decided what to do with it yet, but she was sure it would finally find its purpose soon enough. It was a space for a new beginning, something to help ground the little one here.
“And you not allowed to mess up my storage room again gremlin”
“Hey! It was just a prank and you put puffer fish inside—”
Yep, she laughed to herself, knowing she’d need to help Chaos move her stuff into their house soon, hopefully without a headache. It was going to be a challenge, but at least it was a good distraction.
A great day, indeed.