Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Okhema Airport — Time: 7:00 p.m.

Aglaea stands amid the vibrant chaos of the airport’s VIP lounge, eyes sweeping over the colorful array of baggage scattered around her.

“Bags, check. Passports, check. Boarding passes, check. We’re all set.”

Phainon and Mydei sit cross-legged on the polished floor, completely engrossed in a high-speed race of Trace ‘n’ Drift on their consoles. Bright lights flicker across their faces as their virtual cars zip through twisting neon tracks, the sound of revving engines and battle items echo faintly.

“Move, move—HA! Eat my stardust!” Mydei cackles, fingers flying across the buttons.

“You hit me!” Phainon cries, eyes wide with mock betrayal. “That was sabotage!”

“Skill issue.” Mydei retorts with a smug grin.

A few seats away, Anaxa lounges with an enormous book resting on his knees. His eyes flick across the pages at an unnatural speed, brow slightly furrowed in quiet concentration.

Cipher dangles upside down in a velvet armchair, legs hooked lazily over the backrest. A cat coin spins between her fingers, catching the light as she flips it over and over with practiced ease.

Meanwhile, Tribbie, Trinnon, and Trianne crowd the snack bar, already halfway through the complimentary snacks. Crumbs and wrappers litter around them like confetti.

“Agy!” Tribbie calls out, waving a half-eaten cookie in the air. “You've been standing there for the last thirty minutes. Come sit with us already!”

“They’ve got some really yummy snacks here!” Trianne adds with a mouthful of chips, cheeks puffed out as she offers the bag toward her. “You’ve got to try them.”

Aglaea glances at the chaos around her and lets out a reluctant chuckle. “Hmm… I suppose I could use a little break.”

With a flick of her fingers, her golden threads swirl out and weave themselves through the luggage handles, binding everything into a neat, shimmering bundle.

Only after confirming everything is secure does she walk over and take a seat beside Tribbie, smoothing her dress as she settles in.

Trinnon immediately holds out a bag of Trick Snacks. “Come on, don’t be so uptight.”

Aglaea eyes the brightly colored packet with a hint of skepticism. Junk food. Not something she usually touches, but her teachers who are older and far more experienced seem to indulge them without care. Who is she to dictate what they eat?

“Teacher,” she begins politely, “do they have anything more… nutritious?”

Tribbie grins, already knowing where this is going. “Agy, we’re on vacation! You’ve got to loosen up. No one’s judging your fiber intake today.”

Trianne nods vigorously, still munching on her chips. “You’re seriously missing out!”

“Besides,” Tribbie adds, tearing the bag open for her, “this brand only causes mild dimension distortion. Totally safe.”

Aglaea raises an eyebrow, lips twitching in amusement. “Very reassuring.”

Tribbie thrusts the open bag toward her. “Now eat.”

With a resigned sigh, Aglaea picks up a seed-shaped puff and pops it into her mouth. She chews thoughtfully, then blinks. A flicker of spice, a hint of sweetness, and a strange tingling sensation on the roof of her mouth.

“Huh.” She murmurs. “That’s… oddly pleasant.”

Tribbie beams. “Told you they’re good.”

From across the lounge, Cipher calls out without lifting her head. “The Seamstress finally sitting down after what felt like forever. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Aglaea leans back slightly, arms folding with calm composure. “Someone has to keep things organised.”

“Lady Aglaea, when do we need to check in?” Hyacine asks from the couch opposite them, folding her hands neatly in her lap.

Aglaea glances at the sleek airport clock mounted on the wall. “In about twenty minutes, we’ll have to head to the boarding gate.”

Cipher’s head tilts up, flipping her cat coin between her fingers. “Did you get us first-class tickets, Seamstress~?” She asks with a mischievous smirk.

Aglaea meets her gaze confidently. “Yes, and nothing less. We deserve the best.”

Anaxa, never one for unnecessary chatter, keeps his nose buried in his book. Without looking up, he mutters. “Must we take a night flight?”

Aglaea shoots him a quick glance. “It’s the only flight available to Thalassa. Besides, we’re in first class. I don’t see how the time matters.” She shrugs slightly, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Just then, the airport PA system chimes in, a clear announcement echoing through the lounge.

“Attention all passengers: Those boarding the Amphoreus Airline flight to Thalassa, please proceed to the boarding gate.”

“Ah, that’s our cue.” Aglaea rises smoothly, gathering her composure. “Everyone, it’s time to make our way to the gate. Double-check you have all your belongings.”

Hands immediately start patting pockets, bags, and satchels. Nods of confirmation ripple through the group.

Aglaea smiles, pleased with their quick compliance. “Good. Then let’s get moving. Grab your luggage and follow me.”

She picks up her gilded ivory handbag with practiced ease and kneels slightly to help the triplets sling on their matching red backpacks.

With everything in order, she strides toward the terminal gate, the triplets falling into step beside her, their excitement barely contained.

Cipher swings her black sling bag over one shoulder and with a flick of her coin, darts ahead effortlessly, weaving smoothly through the crowd until she’s nearly out of sight.

“Cifera! Wait up—oh, never mind.” Aglaea sighs, a mixture of amusement and exasperation in her voice, shaking her head.

Castorice, watching Aglaea’s fleeting figure, turns her head toward Phainon and Mydei, who remain seated still immersed in their game. “Lord Mydei, Lord Phainon, shouldn’t we be following Lady Aglaea?”

Phainon’s fingers mash the buttons of his console, eyes glued to the screen. “We’re almost done with our game. Just a few more minutes.”

Suddenly, the screen goes black.

“Hey! What was that for?” Mydei groans in frustration.

Anaxa looms over them, folding his arms with a stern expression. “We should get going before that woman scolds us for falling behind.” Without another word, he grabs his dark green satchel and strides off.

Hyacine steps up, handing bags to Castorice, Mydei, and Phainon with a gentle smile. “Come on, let’s not keep everyone waiting.”

Grumbling softly, the boys gather their things and hurry to catch up with the group as they begin their walk to the boarding gate.

Okhema Airport — Boarding Gate

Just outside the boarding gate, Aglaea stands near the group, flipping through their boarding passes with swift precision.

“Let’s do a head count before we enter.” Her eyes sweep across the group. “Tribbie, Trianne, Trinnon, Hyacine, Castorice, Cifera, Anaxagoras… wait.” She squints, counting again. “Where are Mydeimos and Phainon?”

Hyacine blinks, turning to glance behind her. “Huh? They were right behind us…” She says, brow furrowing.

Aglaea exhales slowly, already sensing trouble. Her gaze snaps to Anaxa, who’s adjusting the strap of his satchel. “Anaxa. Go check the men’s restroom. Now.”

Anaxa doesn’t move, folding his arms. “Why must I go?”

Aglaea places a hand firmly on her hip, voice flat. “Do you see any other males here?” She gestures around them, eyes narrowing. “Exactly. Now go.”

Anaxa huffs, clearly not thrilled. “Fine.” He turns and strides toward the restroom, muttering under his breath as he goes.

He pushes open the bathroom door. “Phainon. Mydei. What are you two up to? We’re about to board the plane, for Kephale’s sake.”

A beat of silence. Then Phainon’s voice echoes awkwardly from inside. “Uh… Prof? We’ve got a bit of a problem.”

Anaxa steps inside and freezes.

Phainon and Mydei stand in the middle of the tiled floor, completely soaked from head to toe. Their clothes cling to their skin, hair dripping wet and small puddles form around their shoes.

Anaxa closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “What nonsense are you two up to this time?” 

“We were having a water fight.” Phainon says proudly, grinning like it was the greatest idea he’s ever had.

Mydei shrugs, arms crossed. “It was he who challenged me first. There’s no word for ‘flee’ in the Kremnoan language.”

Anaxa stares at them, utterly unimpressed. “We are literally going to a world of deep sea. Could you not wait until we arrived to start splashing around?”

Phainon opens his mouth, about to justify themselves, but Anaxa raises a hand. “Don’t. Just don’t. That woman is probably already preparing your punishment speech.”

He turns sharply and walks out. The two follow behind, water dripping with every step.

Back near the gate entrance, Aglaea is reorganising the boarding passes by order of seating, when she hears the unmistakable squelch of soaked shoes approaching. She looks up. Her entire face tightens.

She exhales sharply through her nose, arms folding tightly. “Phainon, explain yourself. What foolishness have you and Mydei indulged in this time?”

Phainon rubs the back of his head, giving her a sheepish grin. “Ah, well, you see... we were just going to use the restroom. Then, while washing my hands, I accidentally splashed Mydei with water. Before I could apologise, he splashed me back and the rest is history.”

“That is not what happened.” Mydei cuts in immediately. “What really happened was Phainon said—and I quote—‘Wouldn’t it be a great idea to have a mini water fight as a warm-up before we hit the beach tomorrow?’ And I accepted the challenge.”

Aglaea stares at them. First at Phainon. Then at Mydei. Then back to Phainon.

She presses her fingers against her temple. “And we’re supposed to entrust you two with our lives. Wonderful.”

There’s a long pause. Everyone stands still, waiting for the inevitable lecture.

But instead, Aglaea simply sighs and waves them forward. “Forget it. I’ll spare you the lecture, for now. You’re lucky we don’t have time for it.”

She turns on her heel and strides toward the gate, the rest of the group falling into step behind her.

Behind her, Mydei nudges Phainon with a smug grin. “Told you it was worth it.”

Phainon grins back. “Totally worth it.”

Okhema Airport — Gate Entrance

At the gate entrance, Aglaea steps up to the check-in counter, boarding passes neatly fanned in her hand like a deck of cards. The attendant scans them swiftly, giving a polite nod of approval.

She turns back to the group, tone composed but firm. “All right. Let’s get everyone sorted for seating.”

Hyacine steps forward. “Lady Aglaea, may I sit with Cassie?” She asks softly, glancing at Castorice, who stands quietly beside her.

Aglaea’s expression softens. “Of course.” She hands them their passes. “Take good care of Cas for me, will you?”

“Dont worry, I will.”

“Thank you, Lady Aglaea.” Castorice replies with a small bow.

From the side, Phainon raises a hand, grinning. “Aglaea, can Mydei and I sit together too?”

Aglaea pauses and gives him a long look over the edge of the passes. “Very well…” She says with a sigh, handing the passes to them. “But I expect both of you to be on your best behaviour during the flight.”

Mydei takes his pass and smirks. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure Phainon behaves.”

Phainon whips his head around. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mydei shrugs, completely unbothered.

Aglaea ignores the bickering and turns to the triplets. “Tribbie, you’ll be with me. Trianne, you’ll sit with Cifera. And Trinnon, you’re with Anaxa. Is that acceptable?”

“Yay! I get to sit with little Ciphy!” Trianne beams, clapping her hands together.

Cipher flips her coin in the air and catches it, grinning. “Don’t worry, big sis Trianne. I brought games. We’ll have lots of fun.”

Aglaea gives a faint smile, handing Cipher her pass. “Good. Keep her entertained.”

Tribbie adjusts her bag, then speaks up. “Agy, could I sit with Trinnon instead? There’s a book we’ve been reading, and we’d like to talk more about it.”

Aglaea tilts her head, then nods. “I see. That’s fine. Enjoy your discussion, teacher.” She hands the three of them their passes.

Now only two passes remain in her hand. She looks down at them, then turns to Anaxa. “Well. Looks like it’s you and me.” She offers a polite, diplomatic smile as she hands him his pass.

Anaxa takes it, eyeing the seat number with mock enthusiasm. “Oh wow. What an honor to get the privilege of sitting beside the illustrious Goldweaver herself.” His voice drips with sarcasm, though there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

Hyacine steps forward hesitantly. “Lady Aglaea… if it makes you uncomfortable, I can switch with you.”

Aglaea raises a hand gently. “It’s fine, Hyacine. It’s just a six hour flight. I’ll survive.” She offers a reassuring smile. “You should enjoy your time with Cas. Don’t worry about me.”

Just then, the PA system crackles to life.

“Last call for all passengers boarding Amphoreus Airline to Thalassa. Please proceed to Gate 12 immediately.”

Aglaea straightens, snapping her handbag shut with a soft click. She looks over the group, scanning each of them quickly. 

“Alright. It’s time to go.”

One by one, they gather their bags and fall in line behind her. The final boarding begins, and a quiet hum of anticipation settles over them as they step into the gateway.

Okhema Airport — Airplane

After making sure everyone is settled in their seats, seat belts buckled securely in place and carry-ons stored properly, Aglaea finally makes her way down the aisle to her own seat at the front of the cabin.

The first-class section is quiet and softly lit, with wide, fully-reclinable seats arranged in spacious pods, each separated by sleek privacy screens. The seats are upholstered in deep navy leather with gold stitching, and every pod has its own adjustable reading lamp, touch-screen control panel, and a personal monitor embedded into the wall.

Aglaea slides gracefully into her seat. She sets her handbag onto the polished fold-out table and exhales, her shoulders finally relaxing. She buckles in, leans back into the plush cushion, and closes her eyes for a moment.

Then—

“It’s surprising you, of all people, decided on a vacation.”

Her eyes open slowly. She turns toward the half-slid privacy partition beside her.

Anaxa reclines lazily in his seat, one leg crossed over the other, a different book opened in his lap. He doesn’t look at her, but the subtle curve of amusement at his lips betrays him as he flips a page.

Aglaea’s lips twitch into a tired smile. “Well, with everything that’s happened lately, I figured a change of pace might lift their spirits.” She unclasps her handbag. “Besides, it was Lady Caenis who suggested the idea.”

That gets his attention. Anaxa raises an eyebrow and glances over. “And that doesn’t worry you? Lady Caenis rarely suggests anything without some sort of hidden agenda.”

Aglaea snorts softly under her breath. “Please.” 

She pulls out her gold-trimmed laptop and flicks it open. Several holographic windows flicker to life, displaying live security feeds from various corners of Okhema—Dawncloud, Marmoreal Market, Kephale Plaza… Everything is meticulously arranged, monitored, and catalogued.

“I came prepared.” She zooms in on one of the windows, which shows the Council of Elders mid-discussion at Dawncloud. “I asked Garmentmaker to keep a close eye on the Council while I’m gone. If anything happens, I’ll know.”

Anaxa blinks, then scoffs. “You’re such a stalker. I still can’t believe I helped you build the World Wound Web.”

Aglaea doesn’t answer. She opens a new tab and continues typing, posture poised, eyes flicking between the documents.

Anaxa leans slightly over his armrest, tilting his head to study her. “Aren’t you going to wear those nerdy glasses you had on the train last time?” His tone teasing. “The ones that made you look like the old hag you are.”

Aglaea glares at him, then reaches into her bag again. “I was just about to.” She pulls out a pair of elegant gold-rimmed circle glasses and slides them on. 

“And if I recall,” she adds, not looking at him, “you said I looked cute in them.”

“I did not!” Anaxa says a little too fast. His voice comes out clipped, and a faint blush creeps onto his cheeks. “You’re misremembering that.”

“Mhm.” Aglaea hums, unconvinced, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She returns to typing, but the lock keeps slipping forward again and again. Her lips purse in mild irritation.

Anaxa watches her for a moment. The way her brow furrows, how her fingers twitch in frustration each time the strand of hair keeps falling back into her face.

Even if I did say she’s cute, I’m not going to admit it to her face.

He reaches into the inner pocket of his coat and pulls out a gold hair clip, studded with tiny rubies. Without a word, he slides it across the partition between them.

Aglaea notices the movement and turns. “Hm?”

Anaxa doesn’t meet her eyes. “For your hair.” He mutters, a hint of awkwardness in his voice.

Aglaea picks it up, inspecting it curiously. “Uh… thank you?” She clips the side of her hair back neatly. “But why do you even have a hair clip with you?”

Anaxa shrugs and reaches for his book again. “To clip back my hair when it gets in the way of reading. Just like how yours is clearly bothering you when you work.”

Aglaea narrows her eyes slightly. “Were you watching me the whole time?”

“Of course not.” Anaxa says quickly, flipping a page of his book. “I was… just looking for a flight attendant. For coffee.”

Aglaea gives him a flat look. “Coffee? Anaxa, it’s 7:30 p.m.”

“And I need my daily dose of caffeine.” Anaxa replies without missing a beat. “If I’m going to stay alive for the rest of this flight.”

Aglaea raises an eyebrow. “You’re not planning to sleep?”

Anaxa gestures toward her glowing laptop. “I don’t see you doing that either.”

Aglaea let’s out a soft sigh. “I’ll sleep when it’s my bedtime.”

“And when’s that, hmm?” Anaxa asks skeptically.

“10 p.m.”

Anaxa leans back and fold his arms. “I’ll check to see if you’re actually asleep at ten, then.”

Aglaea rolls her eyes and returns to her work. The quiet tapping of her fingers on the keys begins to fill the space between them.

A beat passes.

“Could you not type so aggressively?” Anaxa grumbles, eyes still on his book. “Some of us are trying to read in peace.”

Without looking up, Aglaea deliberately starts typing louder. Each keystroke now sharper and more pointed.

Anaxa glares at her, jaw tightening. Then, with an annoyed huff, he reaches over and slides the privacy screen shut, separating them.

Aglaea smirks faintly to herself and keeps typing.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the aisle.

Phainon and Mydei are locked in a fierce battle, hunched over their handheld consoles, playing Origami Bird Clash.

“I’ve got you now, Mydei!” Phainon growls, fingers flying across the screen.

Mydei smirks, eyes locked on the console. “Hah! Take that, Deliverer!” With a confident tap, he detonates a last-minute Super Bomb. 

The score flashes across both screens — 335 to 336. 

Mydei wins. By one point.

On their consoles, the two Origami Birds collide mid-air. Phainon’s slams into a wall and gets stuck. While, Mydei’s flaps victoriously toward the screen, triumphant music chiming in the background. VICTORY flashes across his screen.

Mydei pumps a fist in the air. “Ah. Sweet, sweet victory.”

Phainon stares at his screen, dumbfounded. “How did you do that?! You caught up by fifty points in one move!”

Mydei casually stretches, lacing his fingers behind his head like he’d planned it all along. “What can I say?” He shrugs casually. “I guess I’m just a match-three puzzle expert.”

Phainon scowls. “That was pure luck. There’s no way that was skill. I demand a rematch!”

Mydei taps his chin, pretending to consider it. “Hmm... Sure. But Birdei’s still going to roast your bird again.”

“Oh please.” Phainon scoffs, already in the new match menu. “Phaibird is way better. He clears the entire board every time I clear twelve blueberries.”

“Twelve?” Mydei barks a laugh. “Twelve blueberries? No wonder you keep losing.”

He flicks to his bird’s info screen and turns it toward Phainon. “Birdei only needs six strawberries. Triggers a 4x4 detonation twice. And he automatically sets off any bombs I create. He’s just built different.”

Phainon’s jaw drops. “What?! That’s insane. Let me see that.” He leans over, peering at Mydei’s screen.

On the screen is Birdei—a sleek maroon Origami Bird, with curling flame patterns and gleaming golden armour. He flaps its wings in idle animation, sending ripples of animated heat across the screen.

Phainon whistles. “Okay. I’ll admit it. That looks sick.”

Then he immediately pulls his own console up and shoves it in Mydei’s face. “But, Phaibird is still better. Look at this design.”

The white and black Origami Bird on his screen flaps its wings regally. Gold sun halos circle each wing, and a royal blue cape drapes elegantly from its back.

Mydei raises a brow. “It has a cape?”

Phainon points at it proudly. “A cape, Mydei. Capes make everything better.”

Mydei squints at the screen, then chuckles. “Honestly? Not bad. Kinda looks like you.”

Phainon grins proudly. “Right? Aglaea designed it.”

Mydei’s eyebrows shoot up. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah.” Phainon beams. “She created a whole Amphoreus expansion pack just because I offhandedly said, ‘Wouldn’t it be cool if there were Origami Birds based on the Chrysos Heirs?’” He gestures dramatically. “And then bam! Two weeks later. It’s in the game.”

Mydei blinks. “She built a whole playable expansion based on a passing comment?”

“Yup. She coded it herself.” Phainon says enthusiastically, tapping Phaibird’s cape. “Even animated custom attacks and lore pages. She added little sound bites too. Phaibird actually says ‘I will be the dawn’ when it activates its skill.”

Mydei shakes his head, half impressed, half exasperated. “She’s the creator of the World Wound Web. Why am I surprised?”

He flips through his own bird collection, but most of the entries are still grayed out. He pauses, frowning. “Wait… why do I only have like… three birds unlocked?”

Phainon cranes his neck. “Because you never finished the story quests. Most of the birds are locked behind the story chapters.”

Mydei flips to the leaderboard, casually checking his PvP stats.

🏆Origami Bird Clash🏆
Total Wins Leaderboard

“I guess that makes sense. I just spam PvP. I’ve mained Birdei since day one, since he was one of the starters. So I never bothered unlocking the rest.”

Phainon gasps. “You’ve seriously been missing out! Let me show you the rest.”

He flips to his ‘My Origami Birds’ menu and swipes through a colourful array of birds, each with unique accessories, wing patterns, and skill effects.

“Aglaea did such a good job, the resemblance is scary. There’s even one that looks like Professor Anaxa. It’s all dramatic and shadowy and won’t stop brooding. It’s hilarious.”

Mydei bursts into laughter. “Well, if the bird broods half as much as the man, then yeah. That checks out.”

He leans a little closer. “So these birds are all based off Aglaea's impressions of us?”

“Pretty much.” Phainon replies. “I’m surprised she didn’t purposely mess up Phaibird because of all the dumb things we do.”

Mydei glances to the side where Aglaea’s seated, working on her laptop. “Aglaea’s not that petty.”

Phainon raises an eyebrow. “You sure? Remember that time we had a hot bath competition and after that she ignored us for three days?”

“Okay.” Mydei admits. “Maybe she’s a little petty.”

“Here.” Phainon stops scrolling. “Look at this. All the birds I’ve unlocked so far.” 

My Origami Bird

Phaibird

A white and black Origami Bird
with sun patterns and a blue cape.

⬅️      Skill Activation Conditions: 🫐x12       ➡️
For every 12 Blueberries eliminated,
clear all fruits on the board.

Birdei

A maroon Origami Bird with
fire patterns and gold armour.

Skill Activation Conditions: 🍓x6
⬅️     For every 6 Strawberries eliminated,     ➡️
randomly trigger 4x4 square detonation
on the board 2 times, and automatically
detonates any Bombs created.

Birdglaea

A white Origami Bird with gold
filigree and a golden laurel.

Skill Activation Conditions: 🍌x6
For every 6 Bananas cleared, randomly
⬅️    trigger cross-shaped detonation on the    ➡️
board 2 times, and randomly transform 6
fruits on the board to Boost Banana.
Boost Bananas can provide 6
Combat Power when eliminated.

Birdnaxa

A dark green and blue Origami Bird
with star patterns and a eye patch.

Skill Activation Conditions: 🥝x7
⬅️   For every 7 Kiwifruit cleared, randomly   ➡️
transform 2 fruit on the board to Super
Bombs. For every Bomb detonated,
clear all fruits of the same type
as the Bomb on the board.

Tribird

3 small red Origami Birds
with white flowers in a cluster.

Skill Activation Conditions: 🍓x3
⬅️     For every 3 Strawberries eliminated,     ➡️
trigger 3x3 square detonation in the
middle of the board 3 times. For every
Bomb detonated, trigger a follow
up detonation of the same type.

Castobird

A lavender Origami Bird with
butterfly patterns and purple flowers.

Skill Activation Conditions: 🫐x10
⬅️     For every 10 Blueberries eliminated,     ➡️
randomly transform 10 fruits on the
board to Line Bombs. After 3 turns,
all Bombs on the board will be detonated.

Cibird

A grey Origami Bird with
cat ears and a black hood.

Skill Activation Conditions: 🍌x9
For every 9 Bananas cleared, randomly
⬅️  transform 1 fruit on the board to a Chest.  ➡️
All fruits collected before unlocking the
Chest will accumulate into the Chest. Upon
unlocking the Chest, all the accumulated
fruits will be converted to Combat Power.

Hyabird

A pink and blue Origami Bird 
with a burgundy beret.

Skill Activation Conditions: 🍑x5
⬅️    For every 5 Peaches cleared, randomly    ➡️
transform 5 fruits on the board to
Square Bombs, and randomly trigger
3x3 square detonation on the
board for 3 consecutive turns.

Mydei’s jaw drops. “Wait—you finished the whole story? Isn’t that like 50 hours worth of content?”

Phainon nods proudly. “Yup. First week after it dropped. The story’s epic, by the way. Full cutscenes, voiceover narration, and the lore goes way deeper than I expected. Honestly, Aglaea should be writing books.”

Mydei narrows his eyes. “Wait... Are the bird lores actually based on our backstories?”

“Yup.” Phainon replies, scrolling down to Phaibird’s lore and tapping a paragraph. “But with a few twists. It’s very interesting. You should do the story someday.”

“Huh.” Mydei says, staring at his screen. “I think I might.”

They lean in closer over the console together, the match long forgotten. Now it’s a full-on lore deep dive, with occasional bursts of laughter and mutual amazement over obscure bird skills and tiny worldbuilding details.

Lore Compendium: Artphoreus Expansion

Phaibird

Phaibird was born in a peaceful paper village nestled in the hills of Aedes Creasiae. A cheerful fledgling, he grew up surrounded by joy, laughter, and his closest friend, Cybird. 

But everything changed when the Bird Reaver rose from the paper ashes and descended on their home, reducing it to scorched confetti.

As fire tore through the village, Cybird sacrificed herself to save him, whispering:

"Run... and become the Deliverer this world needs."

All he could do was flee, the image of Cybird pierced by scissors seared into his mind. Though every step forward carried the weight of that memory, he knew he had to keep going. 

The night was long, but he still believed in the dawn. Even as the world smoldered behind him, he vowed: 

“Beyond the flames of ruin, a new sun will rise.”

He would become the Deliverer. The light at the end of Artphoreus’ long night.

Birdei

Born as the crown prince of Castrum Papernos, Birdei’s life was torn apart the moment he was folded. His father cast him into the Sea of Scissors, hoping to erase him.

But Birdei survived.

Cut, tattered, and forged in pain, he emerged with a body no blade could pierce. Adrift and forgotten, he was taken in by exiles: Birdstion, Birdikkas, Leobird, Ptolebird, and Birdcesta. Together they formed an unbreakable flock. 

But peace never lasted long in Artphoreus. War soon broke out, and once again, he was forced to flee as his friends gave their lives to protect him.

Alone, angry, and burning with purpose, Birdei sharpened his resolve.

“I will reclaim what is mine. Not for the throne... but for them.”

Now he returns, not as a prince, but as a survivor. A warrior reforged by betrayal and sacrifice, ready to tear down anything that stands in his way."

Birdglaea

Born into the noble folds of Origama, Birdglaea was destined to be perfect. She mastered every artform, folded to shine brighter than any before her. Her every move, every crease, was a masterpiece. Eventually, she rose to become the Goldfolder, a paragon of Origami elegance.

But perfection is a heavy weight.

The pressure of the Birditzens’ expectations began to dim her inner folds. She questioned whether this forced beauty was truly her own.

Slowly, she began to fade, her golden paper turning pale, her folds growing hollow.

One day, lost in despair, she stumbled into a pool of gold deep in the forest. There, in that shimmering reflection, she saw a vision—a golden future not yet written.

When she emerged, her body gleamed anew with golden filigree—not as a symbol of status, but as the light she chose to carry.

“Perfection isn’t what they want from me. It’s what I choose to become.”

Now, she folds not for praise or duty, but to shape a future gilded in purpose and light.

Birdnaxa

Born in the Fold of Epiphany, Birdnaxa was raised by his older sister after a tragic accident crumpled his parents. Quiet, brilliant, and endlessly curious, he became the youngest Origami Folder in recorded history.

Then came the Black Flood. It seeped from the sky like cursed ink, staining everything it touched, including his sister. Her fragile paper form melted in his arms, her smile forever etched in his memory.

Grief-stricken and determined, Birdnaxa turned to forbidden studies. He believed that if he could understand the divine laws of folding, he could rewrite fate itself.

In a moment of desperate clarity, he cut out one of his eyes in a ritual. And in that agony, he saw her. 

Smiling at him.

Now, with every step and fold, Birdnaxa inches closer to unlocking the ultimate truth of origami life. He does not seek power. He seeks understanding. And perhaps… resurrection.

“I will find the truth of this world.”

“ And fold a reality where no one is left behind.”

Tribird

Tribird was once a whole bird. A bright fledgling of the Holy Bird in the sacred halls of Janusopaper. But after her mother perished in a tragic folding ritual, she was locked away by the Elder Birds, too young and too sacred to be allowed freedom.

Loneliness became her only companion. Until one day, she decided to make the ultimate sacrifice.

Tribird tore herself into countless pieces, scattering herself to the wind. Her will was so strong that the wind carried her fragments all across Artphoreus. Though free, she was fragile, vulnerable to war, fire, and the Black Flood. 

One by one, her pieces withered away, and only three remained. Three little birds, fluttering through a broken world with one shared heart and a single dream.

“A world where everyone is free.”

They may be small.

They may be few.

But their song still sings of hope.

Castobird

Castobird and her twin sister, Polybird, were born in the serene paperlands of Stearxia. But serenity shattered when a monstrous Dragonbird tore through the skies. In one terrifying instant, Polybird was swallowed whole, and Castobird was flung into the Ocean of Crease.

Washed ashore in Foldonia, she was adopted by General Amubird, who trained her to be a warrior, an enforcer of Foldonia’s will. They called her the Bird of Death.

But Castobird didn’t want to be just an instrument of execution. She wanted purpose. A future of her own choosing. Deep in her paper folds, she could feel the pull of something—someone—still missing.

So she left Foldonia in search of her own identity, and perhaps… to find her other half.

“I’m more than the battles I was forged for. I am the path I choose to fly.”

Ciphbird

Ciphbird was born in the back alleys of Foldos, a crumpled city where no bird flew without fear. She learned to fold shadows early through stealing and tricking other birds. Hunger was her teacher, and crime her only lullaby.

Labeled a thief. A liar. A rogue. Ciphbird embraced every name. After all, names didn’t matter when your stomach ached from hunger and the city wanted you crumpled.

But even thieves have hearts. Ciphbird often shared her spoils with orphan birds, slipping food into empty nests and coins into broken wings.

They called her a criminal.

She called herself a survivor.

“In this world, you either fold your own story, or get creased into someone else's.”

And Ciphbird? She’s crafting hers into a legend no bird will dare forget.

Hyabird

From the majestic Twilight Birdyard, Hyabird was named the next Daythunder Bird. But she was small, shy, and often overlooked. The Birditzens would often whisper:

“Why her?”

Mocked and doubted, she refused to give up.

If she couldn’t fight on the frontlines, she’d heal behind them. She studied the sacred art of Taping—repairing cuts, patching tears, and soothing weary wings. Slowly, the same Birditzens who mocked her began relying on her.

She may never win a duel... but she’s saved thousands.

“There’s more than one way to be a hero.”

And for those who can’t fight, she’ll be the one to keep their stories flying.

While Phainon and Mydei are deep in their origami bird lore, soft giggling and the rustle of snack wrappers can be heard from the seat behind them.

Hyacine and Castorice are curled into their cushioned seats, chatting excitedly about the latest show they watched: I Turned into a Talking Dromas After A Nap.

Hyacine leans toward Castorice, trying—and failing—to stifle a grin. “His reaction was hilarious. The way he stomped his feet when he realized he had scales!”

Castorice’s eyes sparkle as she brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know! I still can’t believe he didn’t notice he was sleeping in the Desires Forest.” She props her chin on her palm. “Honestly? Rookie mistake.”

Hyacine lifts a brow. “So… does that mean he wanted to be a Dromas? Who wants that?”

Castorice smirks. “Probably Professor Anaxa. He did make us write that whole essay about why Dromas surpass Titans.” She clears her throat dramatically, mimicking his voice. “‘Dromas are majestical creatures that deserve to be studied.’”

Hyacine snorts, bumping Castorice lightly with her elbow. “That does sound like him, but even he wouldn’t want to become one. Can you imagine trying to write field notes with hooves?”

Castorice leans back slightly, sighing. “True. I’m kind of disappointed the rest of the episodes haven’t come out yet.” She drums her fingers on the armrest.

Hyacine lets out a breath. “Same. I need to know if he ever turned back into a human. I need answers. I swear, I’m going to binge-watch the rest as soon as we get back.” She taps her chin. “Do you think they’ll have aired by then?”

Castorice shrugs, resting her head against the seatback. “No idea. Lady Aglaea didn’t exactly say how long this vacation is supposed to be. But there should be at least a few episodes waiting for us, right?”

Hyacine frowns faintly, tugging at her sleeve. “I don’t even know if I brought enough clothes. Lady Aglaea was so vague. All she said was, ‘at least bring one for every season.’ What does that mean?”

Castorice tilts her head, thoughtfully. “I asked her too, and she just said, ‘If you’re not sure what to bring, just bring your whole closet.’”

Hyacine squints suspiciously. “You didn’t actually do that, did you, Cassie?”

Castorice looks away, feigning innocence. “I mean… I may have packed as many clothes as I could fit into the suitcase she gave me.” She holds up a finger. “In my defense, it was huge. If I packed smart, I think I got over half my closet in there.”

Hyacine blinks, then bursts into a laughter. “You’re unbelievable. I actually left some room for souvenirs. That suitcase is massive, it’s almost half my size!”

Castorice’s expression softens. “If you need help hauling it around later, I got you.”

Hyacine smiles warmly. “Thanks, Cassie.”

For a moment, a comfortable hush settles over them, then Castorice stretches with a quiet sigh. “So… what should we watch next? We do have a monitor.”

Hyacine perks up and taps the embedded screen. It blinks to life, casting a glow across their faces. “Let’s see… ‘The Aidonians’, ‘The Okheman Women’, ‘Zagreus the Tyrant Falls in Love With Me’, and ‘Fortress Kremnos’. That’s quite the lineup.”

Castorice leans closer, scanning the options. “Hmm, ‘The Aidonians’ and ‘The Okheman Women’ are total classics. The others sound more fun though.” She points to one. “‘Zagreus the Tyrant Falls in Love With Me’? That’s definitely a romantic comedy. Possibly unhinged.”

Hyacine grins. “I’m into it already. Let’s watch it, then tear it apart later like we always do.”

“Perfect.” Castorice nods, already reaching for her headphones.

They each slide their headphones on, settle into their seats, and press play. As the screen fades into the opening scene, the flickering light reflects in their eyes and the movie begins.

On the other side of the cabin.

Across from the soft giggling of Hyacine and Castorice, two smaller figures are engaged in their own animated discussion. Nestled side by side in their seats, Tribbie and Trinnon are deep into a debate over the latest book they both finished: My Professor Can’t Possibly Be This Shy.

Trinnon crosses her arms, her brows furrowed in concern. “I don’t know how to feel about it. A professor and student… isn’t that a bit scandalous?”

Tribbie swings her legs lightly as she thinks. “Yeah, I get it. But they didn’t start dating or anything. He just said he wanted to understand everything about her. That’s not the same.”

Trinnon shoots her a flat look. “Tribbie, that basically implies he’s interested in her. Like, emotionally.”

Tribbie sits up straighter, folding her arms. “Nuh-uh. He just wants to know her better because she’s his student and they share the same interests. You're not gonna change my mind unless a sequel comes out and explicitly says they’re dating.”

Trinnon taps her chin thoughtfully. “Or… we could just ask Agy what she thinks? She does know romance best.”

Tribbie’s face lights up instantly. “That’s a great idea! And maybe we ask Naxy too since this is about professors and students, and he’s a professor with students!”

Before Trinnon can say anything, Tribbie unbuckles her belt and flutters up. She peeks over to where Aglaea and Anaxa were. They’re focused on their own tasks, the privacy screen fully drawn between them.

A moment later, she floats back down slowly and plops back into her seat with a small sigh, rebuckling her seatbelt.

“On second thought… never mind. They seem… busy.” She murmurs.

Trinnon tilts her head. “What did you see?”

Tribbie huffs. “Agy’s working. Like, full-focus mode. Her hair was clipped back and she’s wearing the glasses we love.”

Trinnon nods approvingly. “The circle ones?”

“Yeah. Meanwhile, Naxy’s got his nose buried in a book like always. And the partition’s all the way up. They’re not even talking to each other.” Tribbie folds her arms as she pouts.

Trinnon leans her head back and sighs. “Well… I guess that’s better than them fighting?”

Tribbie bites her lip. “I guess… but they look so sad. Especially Agy. Her eyes weren’t sparkling at all.”

Trinnon squints at her. “Are you sure that’s not just her ‘concentration face’? You know the one.”

Tribbie throws up her hands. “Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a tiny bit, but still! They’re on vacation! I want to see them having fun.”

Trinnon gives her a side-eye. “Please don’t say you have a plan.”

Tribbie’s eyes gleam mischievously. “I absolutely have a plan. Operation Aglanaxa!”

Trinnon blinks. “What.”

Tribbie nods enthusiastically. “That’s what Cinny calls it! It’s their ship name. Cute, right?”

Trinnon slowly raises a brow. “I… guess?”

Tribbie leans in, lowering her voice to whisper. “Since we’re heading to an island in Thalassa, it’s technically a beach trip, right?”

Trinnon narrows her eyes. “I do not like where this is going.”

Tribbie waves her off. “Listen! I know Agy packed a bikini. And I’m pretty sure Cinny convinced Naxy to bring swim shorts. So his chest will be exposed.”

Trinnon gasps, face flushed. “Tribbie! I don’t think—”

Tribbie cuts her off with a mock gasp. “Trinnon! I’m not like Cinny or Ciphy, okay?”

Trinnon blinks, caught off guard.

“I just want them to have fun.” Tribbie says more gently, leaning back into her seat. “Enjoy the sunshine. Smile at each other. Maybe share a coconut drink with two straws.”

Trinnon exhales, lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “Okay… that does sound cute.”

“Right?” Tribbie beams. “We just have to get them to interact naturally. The rest will happen on its own. No meddling. Just… a little nudge.”

Trinnon adjusts her seatbelt, glancing toward the front of the cabin. “Well, let’s see if it’ll work.”

“Oh! And you’re going to help me.” Tribbie says with a sly grin.

Trinnon lets out a resigned sigh. “Of course I am.”

Suddenly, a wave of irritation washes over Tribbie and Trinnon like an unexpected gust of wind.

Tribbie squints and turns her head. “Did you feel that?”

Trinnon frowns, rubbing her temple. “Yeah… that was weirdly annoying.”

They both glance behind them, and immediately spot the source.

Their eyes trail toward the back, where Cipher and Trianne are seated on either side of the lowered privacy partition, using it like a makeshift game table. Brightly colored cards are spread across the surface in chaotic little piles.

“Take that, big sis Trianne!” Cipher grins devilishly as she slams a Deliverer card down.

Trianne lets out an exaggerated gasp, placing one hand over her heart. “Little Ciphy’s so mean.” She retaliates with another Deliverer, sliding it carefully atop her card. “Now you have to draw twenty-four cards.” She giggles, eyes gleaming with glee.

Cipher’s smile widens. “Not so fast.” Another Deliverer hits the pile. A smirk tugs at her lips. “Let’s make that thirty-six.”

Trianne groans, tossing her head back. “Hmph! You’re such a meanie!” She grabs the stack of cards and begins pulling from the draw pile. “This game is so unfair.”

Tribbie crosses her arms. “Whatcha up to? I was in a good mood talking about Operation Aglanaxa, and then suddenly, bam! I’m annoyed.”

Trinnon nods slowly, eyes narrowing. “Same. That emotion definitely came from Trianne.”

Cipher leans back in her seat, arms behind her head. “Oh, that’s probably because big sis Trianne just drew thirty-six cards. Look how thick her stack is now~”

“Yeah, but now I’ve got way more ammo to use on you.” Trianne fans her cards mischievously.

But Cipher’s attention flicks back to Tribbie. Her ears perk up. “Wait. Did you say Operation Aglanaxa?”

Tribbie lifts her chin proudly. “Yup! And I’m upgrading the name. It’s now officially Operation Aglanaxa Beach Date.”

Trianne groans and slaps a card down, face-first. “Are you scheming again, Tribbie? Wasn’t the ice cream date one enough?”

Tribbie waves her hand dismissively. “Of course not! Sure, they had a cute moment at the end—riding a Dromas into the sunset—but that’s just the start.”

Cipher freezes mid-shuffle. “Hold up. The Seamstress and Prof Nax rode a Dromas together and no one told me?!”

The triplets all exchange glances, then immediately look away, suddenly fascinated with their fingernails, clothes, and seat buckles.

“Oops. My bad.” Trianne mumbles, scratching her cheek.

Trinnon sighs. “Agy made us promise not to tell anyone. Said it was a ‘private moment.’”

Tribbie lifts a finger. “So you definitely can’t tell anyone, Ciphy. Promise.”

Cipher raises both hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Lips sealed.” She leans forward, grin returning. “So~ Tell me more about this beach date operation.”

Tribbie sits up straighter, eyes gleaming. “It’s simple. We just want Agy and Naxy to actually have fun on the beach together. Like swimming, beach games, maybe a seashell scavenger hunt. Vacation stuff.”

Trinnon crosses her arms thoughtfully. “They probably won’t want to do any of that on their own. We’ll need to… strategically motivate them.”

Trianne claps her hands together. “Sounds like we need reinforcements.”

Cipher raises an eyebrow. “Reinforcements?”

The triplets slowly turn their heads in perfect sync toward Hyacine and Castorice, who are still curled up in their seats, absorbed in their show.

Cipher follows their gaze and her grins widens. “Ooh~ You mean Princess Homebody and little Hyacine~”

Trinnon nods. “Cinny’s an expert at relationships.”

“And Agy adores Cas. She wouldn’t say no if Cas suggested a beach activity.” Tribbie adds.

Cipher folds her arms, clearly impressed. “You guys really thought this through. I love it! Count me in!”

Tribbie claps her hands with glee. “Great! Okay, let’s plan the details.”

The four of them huddle together, card game now forgotten, heads pressed close and voices dropping into excited whispers. 

Amphoreus Airline — Time: 11:00 p.m.

The cabin lights dim, casting a soft glow across the first-class pods. The steady hum of the engines is the only constant sound, occasionally joined by quiet murmurs and electronic beeps from monitors.

Anaxa quietly closes his book with a soft thump, slipping a bookmark into the crease. He unfastens his seatbelt and stands, stretching briefly before stepping into the aisle.

As he walks past the other pods, the faint glow of handheld consoles catches his attention. In one of the suites, Phainon and Mydei are still locked into their game, eyes glued to the flickering screens.

Anaxa raises a brow, leaning slightly against the side of their pod. “It’s eleven. Why aren’t you asleep?”

Phainon looks up, blinking in surprise. “Oh! Hey, Professor Anaxa. We’re not really tired yet, so we figured we’d just keep playing.”

Mydei doesn’t even glance up. “Sleep is for the weak.” He mutters, fingers tapping rapidly on his console.

Anaxa exhales slowly through his nose, unimpressed. “We’re going to the beach tomorrow. You’ll need energy to run around and act your usual chaotic selves. I suggest you rest.”

Phainon groans, letting his console drop slightly. “Fine, fine... but after this round.”

Anaxa shakes his head, the corners of his lips twitching in amusement. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He pushes off the pod wall and continues down the aisle.

He makes his way deeper into the cabin, slowing down when he reaches another suite. Hyacine and Castorice are both fast asleep, curled beneath their blankets. Their monitors still glow faintly, credits rolling from a movie long finished.

Hyacine clutches a small unicorn plush, its horn pressed gently to her cheek. While Castorice holds a dragon plush to her chest, her breathing soft and steady.

Anaxa’s expression softens.

He leans in quietly, tapping a button to turn off their monitors. Then, with practiced care, he adjusts their blankets, tucking them in a little more snugly.

Hyacine stirs slightly in her sleep, murmuring something unintelligible. While Castorice lets out a tiny sigh, her grip on the plush tightening.

“Sleep well.” Anaxa whispers, then gives them one last glance before moving on.

Further along, he passes another pod where Tribbie, Trinnon, and Trianne are bundled up in their seats, each wrapped in their own blanket. Cipher lies sprawled sideways, mouth open, a thin line of drool slipping down her chin.

One of the triplets mumbles something about “coconut drinks” and shifts in her seat.

Anaxa suppresses a sigh. He gently adjusts their blankets, ensuring they’re covered and warm, then finally continues toward the rear of the cabin.

After a brief trip to the restroom, he returns to his suite and pauses beside his seat. To his right, the privacy partition still remains fully raised. His gaze lingers on it.

He hesitates. Then, slowly, reaches up and slides it down.

On the other side, Aglaea sleeps soundly. Her head is tilted slightly toward the partition, resting on the plush headrest. Her gold-rimmed glasses lie folded beside her closed laptop, both perfectly aligned on the table. Her expression is calm, her breathing slow and even.

A quiet smirk tugs at Anaxa’s lips. Looks like she actually did as she said and went to sleep.

He quietly gets up and circles around to her side. Kneeling slightly, he reaches up and carefully unclips the small gold hairpin he lent her earlier. Her hair spills free, soft strands falling across her cheek.

He gently brushes it aside, tucking it behind her ear. Then he adjusts her blanket, pulling it a bit higher to make sure she’s warm. His hands linger for a moment. Leaning in, he presses a feather-light kiss to her cheek.

“Good night, Aglaea.”

Anaxa returns to his seat beside her. Rather than picking up his book to continue reading, he decides to lean back and fold his hands in his lap.

His eyes drift toward her silhouette. And for the rest of the night, he simply watches her sleep.

Insumousu Airport — Time: 1:30 a.m.

The automatic doors slide open with a hiss, letting in the warm coastal breeze of Insumousu—an Autonomous Region of Thalassa. The Chrysos Heirs trudge out of the terminal in a sluggish line, suitcases bumping behind them, eyes half-lidded and shoulders drooping. Only Aglaea and Anaxa still look remotely functional, walking with measured steps and alert eyes, seemingly immune to the late hour.

Behind them, Tribbie yawns so wide her eyes start to water. “I’m so sleepy...”

Trinnon rubs her eyes, murmuring. “Mhm… I second that.”

Aglaea, who’s pulling two suitcases—her own and the triplets’—glances over her shoulder. “You can sleep once we reach the hotel.”

Cipher stumbles over the curb with a groan. “Ugh… I would so use my powers to dash there, but this suitcase is literally trying to kill me.” She yanks her black suitcase that’s covered in cats and coins designs with a grunt. It clunks against the pavement like it’s full of bricks.

Trianne squints at her. “That’s your fault for packing weird stuff.”

Cipher gasps. “Weird?! It’s mostly clothes, jewelry, and a few pairs of shoes!”

“Eight pairs.” Trinnon mutters without looking up.

Cipher pouts. “Shoes are essential for agility.”

At the rear of the group, Castorice lags slightly behind. Her small dragon plush droops in one hand while the other grips the handle of her rolling suitcase. She’s blinking slowly, like she might fall asleep upright.

Hyacine notices and slows her pace, turning around. “Cassie? You okay? You’re falling behind.”

Castorice nods slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah… just tired.”

“Aren’t we all.” Anaxa comments dryly from the middle of the group. He’s towing two suitcases—his own and Hyacine’s, since she’d been struggling with hers.

Aglaea gives him a side-eye without slowing her stride. “You’re the one who drank coffee at seven. You brought this on yourself.”

Anaxa arches a brow, unfazed. “I never said I was tired. Just making a general statement based on group mood analysis.”

Phainon lets out a loud groan. “Let’s not start arguing now. We’re all exhausted. Save the philosophical debates for tomorrow.”

Mydei yawns and stretches his arms above his head. “Technically, it is already tomorrow.”

“Details.” Phainon mutters, deadpan.

The Chrysos Heirs finally reach the taxi stand, fluorescent lights flickering overhead. The night air is thick with the scent of sea breeze. A line of waiting taxis idles by the curb.

Aglaea steps ahead and raises a hand, quickly hailing two five-seater taxis. Within seconds, two sleek black vehicles pull forward.

She turns back to the group. “Alright, let’s split up and load in. We’ll be at the hotel in under fifteen minutes, so try not to fall asleep in the car.”

The group sorts themselves out with minimal complaint. Tribbie, Trinnon, Trianne, and Cipher pile into the first taxi with Aglaea, while Hyacine, Castorice, Phainon, and Mydei settle into the second one with Anaxa.

Cipher raises a tired hand. “Shotgun.” She croaks, then flops into the front seat like a sack of coins.

Tribbie, Trinnon, and Trianne huddle in the backseat, their bags and limbs crammed in every direction. Trinnon immediately rests her head on Trianne’s shoulder and closes her eyes.

Aglaea double-checks everyone’s belongings before climbing in.

Meanwhile, Anaxa opens the door to the second taxi and holds it open as Hyacine and Castorice climb in. Phainon and Mydei follow, both grumbling about suitcase Tetris.

Before closing the door, Anaxa pauses to glance up at the starless sky framed by palm trees, exhaling through his nose. Then, with one last look toward Aglaea’s taxi, he gets in and shuts the door behind him.

The taxis pull out into the quiet, early-morning streets of Insumousu, headlights slicing through the dark as the ocean glimmers distantly ahead.

Insumousu Beach Resort — Time: 2:00 a.m.

The taxis roll to a gentle stop at the resort’s drop-off point. Palm trees sway lightly in the midnight breeze, and the marble drive reflects the soft hotel lights. As the taxi doors open, Aglaea immediately gets to work, unloading their mountain of luggage with mechanical efficiency.

Meanwhile, Anaxa takes a more... unorthodox approach.

With a resigned look on his face, he hauls each unconscious Chrysos Heir out of the taxi one by one—lifting, cradling, and laying them flat on the tiled pavement like motionless corpses.

Phainon flops with a grunt. Mydei slumps beside him, arm twisted at an awkward angle. Hyacine is gently laid down with her unicorn plush still tucked under her chin. Castorice rests her head against her own shoulder, clutching her dragon plush like it’s her last lifeline. Cipher curls up, hugging her tail. The triplets are placed carefully, each curled in a fetal position.

It looks like the aftermath of a small, adorable war.

Aglaea slams the trunk closed with a snap. “You didn’t have to lay them out like dead corpses, you know.”

Anaxa straightens and wipes the sweat off his brow. “What was I supposed to do? Carry eight sleeping bodies at once? Do I look like I’m built for that kind of physical trauma? Do you want me dead?” He slams the the passenger door shut with more force than necessary.

“You could’ve stacked them better.” Aglaea mutters, already twisting her fingers. Golden threads flicker to life, weaving around the suitcases and bags. They pull together into two tidy bundles.

She gestures without looking at him. “You’re carrying that one.” She points to the smaller pile of duffels, backpacks, and slings.

Anaxa eyes the bundle, unimpressed. “Why me? Can’t we just get a luggage trolley like normal people?”

“You said you weren’t tired.” Aglaea replies coolly. “So carry it. It’s light.”

“Says the woman who carries two towering stacks of legal documents like they’re feathers.” Anaxa shoots back.

Aglaea doesn’t blink. “Fine. Wait here. I’ll check us in and get you your precious trolleys.”

Without waiting for a response, she turns on her heel and strides confidently into the hotel, golden threads trailing behind her like ribbons in the wind.

Anaxa watches her disappear inside, then grumbles under his breath. “Ugh… that woman is absolutely insufferable. Expecting me, a frail scholar, to carry ten bags. Ridiculous. Truly mad.”

A voice cuts in sharply. “Excuse me?”

Anaxa’s eyes snap up. Aglaea stands at the entrance again, effortlessly maneuvering four luggage trolleys behind her with the aid of her golden threads. The trolleys roll in perfect formation, gliding silently across the pavement.

Anaxa blinks. “Four? Really?”

“Yes.” Aglaea says crisply, coming to a stop beside him. “You’ll take the boys to Room 12. I’ll take the girls to Rooms 13 and 14. Two trolleys for luggage. Two for people.”

“You’re seriously pushing them in luggage trolleys?”

Aglaea glances down at the unconscious Heirs still splayed on the pavement. “Didn’t someone complain about carrying eight bodies to the rooms? I’m offering you a solution. Try being grateful for once.”

Anaxa squints at the trolleys. “How am I supposed to push two by myself? They probably weigh, like 250kg.”

Aglaea raises an unimpressed brow. “Mine weighs at least 350kg. Stop whining.”

“Remind me never to go on vacation with you people again.” Anaxa mutters, rubbing his forehead. 

Aglaea ignores him, her golden threads already moving in elegant, practiced loops. The luggage floats up and drops neatly into the trolley baskets. Then, one by one, the slumbering Heirs are lifted and laid gently into the other trolleys, arranged with surgical care.

Anaxa crosses his arms, watching her move meticulously. “You know… you probably could’ve carried all of us and the luggage yourself without breaking a sweat.”

Aglaea shoots him a side glance. “I could have. But someone insisted on trolleys.”

She finishes, then hands him a key card. “Here. Room 12. We’ll meet at the Breakfast Bar at 9 a.m. Is that acceptable?”

Anaxa takes the card and nods, holding her gaze. “That’s fine.”

Aglaea turns back to her trolleys. With a flick of her fingers, she weaves the two together like train cars. Then she steps onto the back platform of one, grips the handlebar, and gently pushes off with her foot.

The trolley glides forward, using her golden threads, she guides the makeshift chariot across the smooth tiles toward the lobby’s glowing entrance.

Midway there, Aglaea turns her head slightly, casting a glance over her shoulder.

“Good night, Anaxagoras.” She says softly, a faint smile on her lips.

Anaxa freezes, caught off guard by the tenderness in her voice.

“Rest well, Aglaea…” He mumbles, barely louder than the breeze.

Aglaea gives him a slight wave. Her short blonde hair catching the wind, golden threads glinting under the moonlight. She rolls into the lobby like a vision—elegant, ridiculous, unforgettable.

Anaxa watches her go, key card in hand. “Tch… of course that woman had to make a grand exit.” A smile tugs at his lips. “Cute.”

He finally turns to his own trolleys. Phainon and Mydei are draped across one like discarded laundry. At some point, Phainon has rolled over to use Mydei’s chest as a pillow. The other trolley groans under the weight of three oversized suitcases and an avalanche of bags.

He sighs. “That woman sure knows how to make things difficult for me.”

Anaxa tries pushing both trolleys at once. The wheels resist. One veers into the curb. The other bumps into his ankle. He growls, dragging his heels, trying again. The movement is awkward, erratic, maddening.

After five minutes of struggling and muttering curses that would make a priest faint, he finally stops, panting.

“I give up.”

Anaxa pulls out his phone. “Yeah... front desk?” He says flatly. “I need someone to help move roughly 500kg of unconscious bodies and emotional damage to Room 12.”

Insumousu Beach Resort — Hallway to Room 12

The soft hum of overhead lights casts a warm glow across the polished floors. The late-night silence of the corridor is broken only by the smooth clacking of rolling wheels.

Anaxa walks beside the bellhop, who pushes both luggage trolleys with casual ease. The man isn’t even breaking a sweat.

Anaxa scowls slightly, glancing at the trolleys. He had nearly thrown out his back earlier, and now this guy moves them like they’re made of air.

The bellhop hums idly, then glances sideways. “So… was that woman earlier with you?”

Anaxa turns his head, raising an eyebrow. “You mean the one riding the trolley like some sort of royal procession?”

The bellhop chuckles. “That’s the one. I’ve worked here for five years and never seen anyone use the luggage trolleys like that. She controlled them like she was steering a ship.”

Anaxa exhales, lips twitching in reluctant amusement. “She’s… special, alright.”

They stop in front of Room 12. Anaxa slides the key card, and the door clicks open.

Inside are two queen-sized beds, a glass door leading to a balcony, and a mini bar tucked in the corner.

He stops at the threshold.

Only two beds.

Three people.

Of course she’d make that decision, he thinks, jaw tightening. Typical Aglaea. Always efficient. Never considerate.

The bellhop, still carrying Mydei’s limp body, peers in. “Where should I put this one?”

Anaxa gestures tiredly. “Left bed. Just lay him down gently.”

He walks over and adjusts the covers, then places Phainon into the bed. Mydei is set beside him, and as he settles, his head tips and drops onto Phainon’s shoulder, nuzzling unconsciously.

The bellhop pauses mid-motion, quirking an eyebrow.

Anaxa catches the look and shrugs. “They’re used to each other. It’s fine.” He brushes some hair away from Phainon’s face before standing upright.

They move the luggage next, stacking the suitcases and bags neatly against the far wall.

The bellhop steps back and dusts off his hands. “There. That’s everything. If there’s nothing else, I’ll be on my way.”

“Wait.” Anaxa says, just as the man turns toward the door.

The bellhop pauses and looks back politely. “Yes, sir? Did you need something else?”

Anaxa hesitates for half a beat, then speaks quieter. “Tomorrow morning, around 8 a.m., deliver a tray of fresh fruit to Room 14. Preferably mangoes and strawberries. Make sure they’re sweet.”

The bellhop gives a small nod and a practiced smile. “Got it, sir. I’ll send the request to the front desk.”

“Thank you.”

“Have a good night.”

“You too.”

The door closes with a soft click.

Anaxa leans against it for a moment, then exhales a long breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Silence settles over the room, broken only by the gentle rhythm of two boys breathing in their sleep.

Anaxa pushes himself off the door with a sigh and disappears into the bathroom. A few minutes later, he re-emerges, steam trailing behind him, hair slightly damp. He’s changed into a blue Dromas onesie.

He grumbles as he adjusts the hood. “Ridiculous... I'm too old for this…”

But there’s no one awake to see.

Anaxa pads over to the bed where Phainon and Mydei now lie curled together. Mydei has rolled halfway on top of Phainon, their legs tangled. Phainon, still fast asleep, shifts slightly and wraps an arm around him. Both are snoring peacefully.

Anaxa chuckles under his breath. “You two are ridiculous.”

He gently pulls the blanket up over them, tucking in the corners. For a long moment, he just stands there, watching them sleep. His expression softening slightly.

“You’re lucky you didn’t have to deal with Aglaea’s absurd requests.” 

Finally, Anaxa moves to the other bed, crawls under the covers, and sinks into the mattress with a long exhale.

He stares up at the ceiling in silence, the soft glow of the hallway light spilling through the crack beneath the door.

His thoughts drift to Aglaea on the trolley, the way she’d smiled and said goodnight, and to the fruit tray he’d quietly requested for her.

Anaxa clutches the pillow a little tighter, rolling onto his side.

“…Stupid vacation.”

Sleep takes him not long after.

Insumousu Beach Resort — Rooms 13 & 14

Room 13 is calm, dimly lit by the gentle glow of a bedside lamp. The soft hush of the ocean filters through the glass balcony doors, barely audible beneath the slow, steady breathing of the girls already fast asleep.

Aglaea moves through the room with quiet efficiency. Her golden threads drift through the air, lifting and sorting the luggage into perfect order. She ensures Hyacine and Castorice are tucked into one bed together. Hyacine clutches her unicorn plush, her face serene in sleep. While Castorice is curled beside her, one hand resting lightly on Hyacine’s arm.

Aglaea gently adjusts their positions, smoothing the blanket over both of them before turning to the second bed.

Cipher is already curled up there, tail wrapped around her body snuggly. Aglaea straightens the covers and lightly adjusts her pillow, careful not to disturb her.

She watches them for a moment. “Rest well.” She whispers softly before backing out of the room, closing the door shut behind her.

Across the hall, she moves to Room 14.

Inside the suite, is a large king-sized bed which dominated the room. Aglaea enters carrying the triplets in her arms, their heads drooping against her shoulders. It’s not that difficult. She’s done this more times than she can count.

With practiced care, she places each girl onto the bed, spacing them out evenly before pulling the covers up to their chins. Trianne mumbles something unintelligible in her sleep, and Tribbie shifts closer to her with a sigh. Trinnon is already drooling on the pillow.

Aglaea smiles faintly. “Good night, teachers.” She says fondly.

Outside, she leaves the two empty trolleys parked neatly against the hallway wall. Her threads coil back into her sleeves and fade into a faint shimmer as she quietly closes the door behind her.

Aglaea steps into the bathroom, letting the soft bathroom lights flicker on automatically. The mirror reflects her calm, composed expression as she begins her nightly ritual.

Steam curls around her as she steps into the shower, the hot water washing away the weight of the day. When she emerges, she slips into an ivory silk nightgown that clings delicately to her figure. She brushes her hair in slow, even strokes, applies a light moisturizer, and smooths her hands over her arms with effortless grace.

Everything is precise. Purposeful. Quiet.

Once her routine is complete, she walks barefoot across the room, her steps muffled against the cool tile. The triplets are still sound asleep. Trinnon now has one leg tossed over Trianne, who doesn’t seem to mind. Tribbie is burrowed beneath a pillow, barely visible.

Aglaea exhales softly, then kneels by the bed and carefully shifts them into a neater arrangement, aligning arms and legs with surgical precision. No accidental kicks tonight.

After that, she slips into bed beside them, drawing the blanket up and leaning into the pillows. She closes her eyes briefly, but a thought drifts in, unbidden.

“I wonder how Anaxa’s doing...”

She pictures him muttering under his breath, struggling to push two trolleys at once. Probably knocking over a lamp or two in the process before finally swallowing his pride and asking for help.

A small giggle escapes her lips.

“He probably got help.”

Aglaea shakes her head, amused, and sinks a little deeper beneath the covers.

“That idiot.” She whispers fondly.

And then, finally, she lets sleep take her.