The sound of metal clanging, punctuated by the distant hum of machinery, echoed through the cavernous expanse of our appropriated garage. The garage itself was once a luxury car showroom, now transformed into our makeshift workspace. Dilapidated banners, their original vibrant colors faded, hung from the ceiling, advertising brands that were long forgotten in the post-invasion world.

  The tall windows, once pristine, were either shattered or stained with years of grime, allowing little of the dim outside light to filter in. Our space, although cluttered with tools and half-built machines, had an air of order to it. The smell of engine oil mingled with the tang of welding fumes, creating a distinct aroma that was both nostalgic and invigorating.

  "You should be more careful with those components," Rai-chan's voice intoned in my mind. "Excessive torque applied may compromise the vehicle's structural integrity."

  I gritted my teeth, "I know what I'm doing, Rai-chan. Remember, I've been working on this long before you showed up."

  Her voice held no emotion. "Just providing a reminder, Ikki. I will add no further input."

  Rolling out from under the truck on a mechanic's creeper, I sat up and wiped my brow.

  It was a surprisingly chilly morning for the middle of September, but the physical exertion kept me warm.

  A chorus of chirping sparrows overhead drew my attention. They'd made nests in the exposed rafters, and the sight of them brought a smile to my lips. Nature, it seemed, had found a way to reclaim the city, even if it was in the unlikeliest of places. A gentle breeze drifted through the broken windows, carrying with it the scents of autumn.

  The semi-truck was our livelihood, the backbone of our scavenging and trade gigs. With me preparing to move for school, it was essential to get the truck in the best shape possible. Dad would probably dial back on missions now that we were set up in a major reclamation project, but it was still important to have the thing run properly. I was glad that the truck wasn’t lost or damaged after we’d gotten kidnapped, and the other settlers had managed to haul it back here no worse for wear.

  "Hey, hotshot," Izumi's voice teased from nearby, startling me. "Still playing with your nuts and bolts?"

  I glanced up to see her by the entrance, her shadow stretched long in the afternoon sun. She was leaning against the frame, her arms crossed. A smile played on her lips.

  I shot her a mock-irritated look. "Some of us are trying to be productive. You know, instead of running around chasing god-knows-what."

  She smirked, strutting into the garage with her usual swagger, hands in her pockets. "It's called patrolling, genius. What can I say, I like to learn the lay of the land and keep an eye out for the bad guys. It’s been a habit since… you know."

  I raised an eyebrow, catching the subtle shift in her tone.

  We'd had a scare back in Jersey a few year ago that made her more than a little paranoid. A group of bandits had gotten the jump on our survey team and scouts. They'd tried to make off with two of her friends — Marcin and Esteban, and some of the young girls traveling with us. Dad and I had gotten separated from them, along with most of the fighting age guys in our group.

  Luckily, we were able to catch up to them with some ingenuity and managed to rescue the others without any casualties on our side. It was a close call — a few minutes later and we might not have been able to stop the worst from happening. But Izumi had somehow given them the slip and sabotaged their vehicles, and led them on a wild goose chase to buy us more time. She was the only reason we got there when we did.

  Izumi had never really talked about that incident. She'd just brushed it off, saying she'd learned a few things from watching us. I did wonder how she managed to pull off such a crazy stunt, but every time I asked, she'd just shrug and say, "It's not a big deal. Just don't ask."

  Ever since then, though, she'd taken it upon herself to be the guardian angel of our little family, keeping a vigilant watch. Izumi had been climbing up trees since she could run and was always pretty athletic. Tree climbing had turned to parkour and amateur gymnastics, and that in turn had led her to free running across the urban jungles we found ourselves in time to time. The world had hardened her in a way, and she always had a weapon within reach these days. Whether it was her revolver or a switch knife.

  I couldn't help but worry about her sometimes. Okay. More than sometimes.

  "Have you been climbing all over the buildings again?" I asked, focusing on a streak of dirt across her face.

  She reached up, wiping away the dirt. "Maybe," she admitted. "You know, you should try it sometime. The view from up there is incredible."

  I laughed. "I'm good, thanks. I'll leave the daredevil stunts to you."

  Izumi stuck her tongue out at me. "Your loss. The view from the rooftops around this area is amazing, especially during sunset. You can almost forget about everything that’s happened till now.”

  I sighed, leaning back against the truck. “As much as I’d love to see it, I’ve got work to do here. With me leaving for Terra soon, I need to make sure everything is in order.”

  She frowned slightly, her playful demeanor fading for a moment. “Still can’t believe you’re leaving,” she muttered.

  “It’s not forever, sis,” I reassured. “Besides, you’ll be here looking after Dad. And I’ll be back before you know it for the holidays.”

  She huffed, crossing her arms. “Hmph! Anyway, I'm just here to check up on you. Dad’s talking terms with your new friend Malina and sent me on over ahead. They’re finalizing details."

  That caught my interest. “Oh? How's that going?"

  Izumi shrugged. "Seems good. She's sharp, I’ll give her that. Dad's impressed. Said she diagnosed a problem in one of the repurposed mechs’ power generators within minutes. She has the touch."

  I felt a swell of pride, happy my instincts about Malina were right. "That's great to hear. But, uh, if they’re talking... Why did he send you here?"

  A devilish grin formed on Izumi’s face. "To make sure you don’t accidentally blow something up. Eh. But honestly, I just wanted to see what you're up to. It’s going to be different without you around. Quieter."

  I frowned, “You say that like it’s a good thing.”

  She smirked, “Well, there will be less nerdy robot talk, for starters.”

  A pang of sadness hit me. I’d miss these back-and-forths with her. "I’ll miss you too, you know," I admitted quietly.

  Izumi's demeanor faltered, her eyes softening. "Yeah, I'll miss having my favorite nerd around, too," she confessed. "But hey, at least I won't have to put up with your snoring anymore."

  I scoffed, "I do not snore!"

  Izumi laughed, "Oh yes, you do! Like a freight train, I swear."

  I rolled my eyes, "Glad to know my suffering brings you so much joy."

  She winked, "Someone's gotta keep you in check. And who knows, maybe you'll bring a cute Terran girl home for me to torment. I'll be the cool younger sister. You'll see."

  I raised an eyebrow, "And what about you, huh? Any cute boys caught your eye lately?"

  Her cheeks reddened, and she quickly looked away. "No. Shut up. I'm not interested in dating right now. The world has bigger problems."

  I chuckled, "Sure, sure. Whatever you say. That's why you keep those old 70s and 80s action star cutouts in your journal, right?"

  "Shut up! You weren't supposed to see those!"

  I held up my hands in mock surrender, "Alright, alright! No need to get defensive."

  She crossed her arms, a slight blush still evident on her cheeks. "You're the worst. I should've never come here."

  I shook my head, "Yeah, yeah. Love you too, sis. Still. Arnold? Ken Takakura? Andy Lau? Really?"

  "Hey, don't judge my taste in men!" she retorted, her voice laced with indignation. "At least I have standards."

  I laughed, "Standards, sure. But those are some pretty specific tastes."

  She huffed, "Whatever. Just finish playing with your truck, dork."

  I grinned, "Yes, ma'am. Anything for my lovely, muscle-obsessed little sister."

  She rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips.

  "Dork," she repeated, but her voice held a hint of affection as she walked over, extending her hand. It was a rag, smeared with dirt and grease.

  "You plan on helping? Or just standing there and insulting me?" I teased.

  She waved the rag dismissively, smirking. “Thought I’d pitch in a bit. Don't get used to it.”

  A soft chuckle escaped my lips. “I won’t. It’s still surprising to see you in here. Remember that time we ended up having to replace an entire engine block?”

  Izumi rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance. “That was one time! And it wasn’t entirely my fault.”

  The garage doors creaked open, letting in a gust of chilly air.

  I turned around to see Dad and Malina stepped in, both looking around the garage with very different expressions. While Dad’s eyes held the familiar appreciation of a seasoned mechanic, Malina’s face showed a mix of curiosity and wonder.

  “Ah, this would be our current heart of operations,” Dad declared, his voice echoing slightly in the vast space. “Impressed?”

  Malina nodded slowly, her shining blue eyes scanning the equipment and tools scattered about. “It’s… rustic. But functional. You've managed to maintain quite a lot, given the circumstances.”

  Dad beamed proudly, “We make do with what we have. But with Terran magitech becoming more commonplace, it's a challenge to keep up. That's where you come in.”

  Malina hesitated for a split second before answering. “I'll do my best. I can't promise miracles, but I'll definitely help in any way I can.”

  Dad placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "That's all we ask. Show us what you can do with our humble equipment."

  Izumi wandered over, her previous mischief replaced with genuine curiosity. "Yeah, Malina! Show us what that gizmo of yours can do."

  Malina smiled, removing the multi-tool from her pocket. "This? This is the Bochica 3000. It can diagnose, repair, and even enhance machinery to a limited extent."

  She pointed it towards the truck, pressing a few buttons. Immediately, the tool lit up, projecting a holographic image of the truck's insides, with various components highlighted in different colors.

  The sight was mesmerizing. Even Dad, who'd seen a lot in his time, looked taken aback.

  “Red areas indicate potential issues or faults. Green means optimal performance. Yellow is for components that are functional but nearing the end of their life cycle,” Malina explained.

  I pointed at a red spot near the truck’s exhaust system. “What’s that?”

  Malina adjusted her tool, zooming into the specific area. “Ah, that is a clogged catalytic converter. Easy fix. Would you like me to address it?”

  “Nah,” I mumbled as I squinted at the projection and walked over to a row of chemicals we had on a bench. “I’ll get it later.”

  Izumi watched, fascination clear on her face. “That thing is amazing. Imagine how many hours you'd save using it, Pops!”

  Dad nodded in agreement. “It is quite the tool. But there’s something to be said about getting your hands dirty and feeling the machinery. It’s a bond. However, tools like these can be a great asset for sure.”

  Malina chuckled, retracting the projection. “Old fashioned, I see. Do not worry, I get it. My grandfather used to say the same thing back in the day.”

  Dad smiled, appreciating the sentiment. "Sounds like a wise man.”

  Soon after I’d brought her back to our townhouse with her cart of supplies in tow, Dad and Malina had hit it off talking shop. Instead of waiting until tomorrow, she came back to give an early demo at the workshop after letting her siblings know what was going on.

  As Malina showed off the capabilities of her multi-tool, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy.

  Here I was, stuck with hand tools and elbow grease, while she had the power to see inside machines with a click of a button.

  Dad was looking at the multi-tool with a craftsman's critique now. "Does that thing tell you how to fix the problems it finds?"

  Malina shook her head. "It gives suggestions based on common Terran solutions — as long as a machine is available in Sisyphus’s current database. I would have to cross back to Terra to update it. It doesn't know everything, especially about Earth tech. That's where I come in. I combine what it knows with what I know. It can also shape mana into the form of a number of common tools, as well as a plasma torch when needed. It’s convenient, but the power drain can be… excessive. We would probably lose out using more functions than diagnostics due to the costs in sheer power. It is powered by inert chaos cores, so it would prove to be economically pressing to overuse."

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  I glanced over at Izumi, who was eyeing the tool with a mix of admiration... and what looked like plotting.

  "Don't even think about it," I mouthed to her, knowing her well enough to see she was thinking of 'borrowing' it to play around with.

  She shot me a look that was all innocence, fluttering eyelashes and all, which didn’t fool either of us.

  I spoke up, “And… you were going to pawn that thing off for 2 weeks of food and supplies?”

  Malina looked down for a moment, her expression slightly forlorn. "It's a valuable tool, yes. But it doesn't matter how advanced it is if you don't have the basics to survive. My siblings and I... we've been through a lot. We’re new to this world and trying to find our footing.”

  Izumi frowned, a hint of concern evident on her face. "Your family... are they okay?"

  Malina hesitated, her fingers tracing the Bochica’s intricate patterns. "They're safe now, thankfully. My brother Xochipilli and my sister Citlalmina are waiting for me at a place we laid claim to nearby. We’d been moving from place to place on Terra for some time, looking for a fresh start, before... how do you say, biting the bullet to join your people here."

  The way she spoke made it clear that their journey had not been an easy one. There was a weariness in her voice, a heaviness that came from carrying the weight of her family's survival.

  “A massive invasion by a Duke-class Novel Aberrant on Terra destroyed our home. You might associate our world with relative peace, but Chaos Events do still occur. Although we’d… gone more or less a decade without an attack larger than a Magnitude 3.5 Chaos Event in our city. But a Magnitude 8 did occur at Tlacopan when I finished my training. It… was awful, to say the least."

  A heavy silence fell over the room. I knew a thing or two about Chaos Events and the devastation they caused, considering our own world's history.

  Much like earthquakes, the Terrans rated the scale of these extradimensional invasions on a logarithmic scale, with each whole number increase representing an exponential increase in the size and threat of the attacking force. A Magnitude 8 was substantial.

  I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I'm... I'm sorry for what you and your family went through. It's a painful experience to have your home and everything familiar taken away from you. Trust me, we understand better than most."

  Malina looked up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Thank you, Ikki. It has been challenging, but we keep pushing forward. We have to."

  Dad stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You're not alone here, Malina. You've got us, and together we'll find a way to get through anything."

  She smiled, the weight of her memories visibly lifting. "Thank you, sir. That means more than you can imagine."

  Izumi cleared her throat, trying to break the somber mood. "So... Xochipilli and Citlalmina, huh? Interesting names."

  Malina chuckled, her earlier melancholy replaced by amusement. "Yes, they're traditional Nahuatl names. Much like mine, they shortened it to Sochi and Mina respectively.”

  Izumi smirked, before looking solemnly away. "Sounds fancy. I… was too young to remember my mother, but I hear she and Dad fought like crazy over whether we’d finalize our chosen Japanese or Chinese names down as our legal names. But she died when this city fell, and Dad made several calls to honor her memory."

  Malina nodded, her expression understanding. "Names have power. They carry our history, our heritage, and the love of those who gave them to us. They're more than just labels; they're a part of who we are. There are entire magic systems dedicated to how tied they are with our identity. You have courtesy names then, yes Izumi and Ikazuchi? We have a similar custom in the Aztlant Confederacy."

  I shrugged, "It is a thing but it’s more of an adaptation to American culture here. Chinese-Americans tend to have both an anglo name and a native name. I could never really relate to my Japanese heritage, to be honest. I was born and raised here and only speak English and a tiny bit of Japanese and Chinese. My mom and grandparents were around just long enough to pass me a bit."

  Malina's expression was thoughtful. "Yi xianshen, ni hui shuo zhongwen ma?" she suddenly asked, her words fluid and melodious in the language I only vaguely understood. It was like she had a completely different, softer personality.

  My father pursed his lips. "Uh. Hui de," he replied in a halting pause. "But we speak English at home. I'm second generation and grew up in an enclave."

  Malina smiled, "Ah, that makes sense. I am not too bad with languages. Mandarin is the primary language of commerce in Aztlant, but we all learn English starting from our Kindergarten days. I am a native Nahuatl and Mandarin speaker myself, but I know enough to get by in English and Latin. I think you may find this to be true on Terra in general. Many nations are adopting a multilingual curriculum, with a focus on languages used by major regional blocs."

  Izumi looked at Malina with a newfound appreciation. "That's pretty impressive. Languages were never my thing. But you're saying that everyone on Terra is learning multiple languages?"

  Malina laughed, her eyes sparkling. "Yes! Our world is more interconnected than Earth, and knowing multiple languages opens so many doors. Plus, it is fun to be able to communicate with people from all over the world."

  "Yeah..." Dad drifted off. "My wife taught me a bit before she passed away, but I never was much good."

  "Anyway, we should probably get back to work," I said, glancing at the clock on the wall. "We've got a lot to do before I have to go abroad, and I want to make sure everything is in order before I leave."

  I saw a moment of vulnerability in Izumi's misty eyes. “I wish I could’ve known her better. You always talk about how sweet and badass she was."

  Dad smiled, a mixture of pride and sadness. "She was. She fought till the very end, and your brother is alive because she survived long enough for help to arrive and get him out before she died from her wounds. Your mother would be so proud of how both of you turned out."

  A sudden ringing noise from Malina’s pocket interrupted the emotional moment. She pulled out her phone, eyes scanning the screen before she looked at my father. "It's from my sister. They're at the address you gave them, Zane, and they're wondering when we’ll be there."

  Dad raised an eyebrow, glancing at the dwindling sunlight outside. "We should probably close up here and get going then. Wouldn’t want to keep them waiting."

  Malina nodded, slipping her phone back into her pocket. "I appreciate the invite. After the day we’ve had, a proper meal beyond canned beans, rice, and peach slices sounds heavenly. And of course, I am more than happy to contribute from the cache of supplies Ikki helped me procure."

  The tension that had settled around the room seemed to lift, replaced by a lighter atmosphere.

  I caught Izumi’s gaze, and we shared a look. It was going to be an interesting dinner, to say the least. Two siblings around her age from Terra, a world she knew nothing about, were coming to visit. I could only hope that she and the kids would hit it off. I knew how important having friends her own age was, especially in this harsh environment.

  We all began tidying up the garage, placing tools back in their rightful places and ensuring everything was in order for tomorrow.

  I looked over at Malina once again — there was something bugging me about the story she gave, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. She looked the very picture of a Terran gearhead — with goggles, a techwear outfit suited for a mechanic, and hands that were covered in oil stains and grease. But it felt… off.

  The tool she’d planned on pawning off was… valuable, to say the least from Rai-chan’s analysis. And now that I’d spent more time with her, I could say for sure that she was very pretty, well-fed, and conventionally attractive beneath the layer of dirt and grease. I didn’t know too much about Terran culture, but she held herself like someone who’d gone to all the right schools and had connections. It seemed unlikely for someone like that to fall into the desperate situation she painted for her family.

  Her abilities as a mechanic were clear, and she seemed to have a genuine passion for the craft. I remembered the way she and Dad had connected over shared knowledge. Their animated discussions over the idiosyncrasies of Earth and Terran tech suggested she wasn’t bluffing about her expertise.

  Malina had alluded to some tragic events in her recent past related to a Chaos Event, but she wasn't forthcoming with the details. I felt like there was more to her story than she was letting on.

  Rai-chan's voice suddenly chimed in, "You seem deep in thought, Ikki."

  "Just... thinking about Malina," I admitted, my curiosity piqued. "Can you... I don't know, do a background check on or something? She seems earnest, but this stuff is starting to bug me."

  Rai-chan was silent for a moment. "I do not possess access to broad-spectrum Terran databases at the moment, unfortunately. There isn't much on her with the information I did gather when I linked to the regional towers."

  “Figures,” I muttered under my breath.

  Rai-chan continued, "However, the multi-tool she wields, the Bochica, is among the upper echelons of Terran multi-tools. Not something one easily parts with, in theory."

  "That's what I was thinking too," I replied. "Everything about her screams 'I needed to get away from something, pronto'. Even the casual name-dropping of a Magnitude 8 Chaos Event felt like she was skirting around something bigger."

  "Perhaps she's in some form of exile? Or hiding from someone? Or she could simply be genuine. It's challenging to ascertain motivations without more data," Rai-chan pondered.

  "We'll have to keep an eye out. She seems like good people, but she could bring trouble. And if it does, we'll have to be ready. Let’s not let her or her family get hurt because of it," I added.

  Rai-chan agreed, "Very well. It is fascinating that is your first train of thought, though."

  Wait. What did she mean by that?

  Izumi came bounding over, breaking my inner conversation. "Oi, daydreamer! Time to lock up. We don’t wanna keep our guests waiting, do we?"

  I patted her head, "Yeah, yeah, little sister. Just lost in thought. But you're right. It’s time to go. We should head out."

  I was surprised she didn't swat my hand away, like usual. Instead, she gave me a small, mischievous grin. "Better hurry up then, slowpoke."

  We all gathered our belongings and made our way to the entrance. As we stepped out into the chilly evening air, I took a moment to appreciate the clear sky above us, a blanket of stars twinkling down at dusk.

  "Beautiful night," I said aloud.

  "It's weird," my Dad spoke up, drawing everyone's attention.

  "What's up?" I asked, glancing at him.

  "Used to be a lot of light pollution, you know? Now that so many of our major cities are dead, you can see the night sky again," he said, his voice carrying a hint of melancholy.

  Malina looked up, a sense of wonder in her eyes. "Beautiful..."

  "Yeah, it is," Izumi agreed. "Makes you feel small, but also like you're part of something bigger. Like we're all just these tiny specks."

  Dad wrapped an arm around Izumi's shoulder, pulling her in for a quick side hug. "Couldn't have said it better myself, kid."

  She giggled, her eyes lighting up with happiness. "You're such a sap, Dad."

  Dad smirked, "And you're a brat."

  Izumi laughed, her voice a stark contrast to the seriousness of the moment. "That's why you love me," she shot back, sticking her tongue out at him playfully.

  The walk back home was filled with laughter and light-hearted banter. The tension of the day seemed to evaporate as we joked and shared stories about the ridiculous things we'd seen and done over the years.

  "You should've seen the look on Ikki's face when that old engine started up," Dad recounted, a mischievous glint in his eye. "He was so excited, he nearly dropped his toolkit!"

  "How young was he?" Malina asked, clearly amused.

  "Eight, I think?" Dad mused. "Already had a knack for machinery. I knew he took after me."

  I rolled my eyes, feeling my cheeks warm up. "Oh, come on. It wasn't that funny."

  "Oh, it was," Izumi chimed in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Even I remember that, and I was, like, five. It was hilarious!"

  I sighed, giving in to their teasing. "Alright, alright. Laugh it up. But we all know who ate a bunch of mud when she was six and tried to pass it off as chocolate cake. Right, sis?"

  Izumi gasped, her cheeks turning red. "Hey! That's not fair! I was a kid! And besides, it looked tasty at the time."

  "Sure, sure," I chuckled. "And we both know who put her hand on the hot engine when I got it going and started screaming bloody murder," I teased.

  Malina laughed, a genuine, hearty sound that warmed the chilly air. "You two are too much," she said, shaking her head in amusement.

  As we approached our home, two figures stood near the entrance, clearly awaiting our arrival.

  The first was a younger girl, about Izumi's age, with shimmering blonde hair like Malina's, but her eyes were a captivating shade of green.

  She carried herself with a cool confidence that radiated a kind of authority and entitlement. Her tanned skin almost glowed under the dim streetlights, and wore a quilted blue jacket. While similar to Malina's in material and design, it had a bit more flair with some vibrant patterns and a slightly more playful design. I assumed this was Mina, Malina's sister, who was eye-catching in a different way from her older sibling.

  The slightly shorter boy next to her had the same blonde hair but kept in a short, messy ponytail. His sparkling purplee eyes betrayed a hint of shyness, and he fidgeted uncomfortably, adjusting the collar of his shirt.

  The two of them were wearing clothes that were distinctly Terran in origin. They had the same sleek yet practical look that Malina sported, but there were differences that spoke to their individual preferences. Mina wore a quilted blue jacket which was similar to Malina's in material and design. It had a bit more flair with some vibrant patterns and a slightly more playful design. Sochi, on the other hand, wore a green jacket with earthy accents. It seemed more functional, with multiple pockets and straps, likely designed for utility rather than style. But they were all well-made and durable. They didn’t have the rugged, patched-together look of most of our own clothing. The kids stood out, and not in a subtle way.

  Malina rushed forward, wrapping them both in a warm embrace. "I'm so glad you both made it safely," she whispered, her relief palpable.

  Mina pulled away first, her eyes landing on Izumi and sizing her up with an unreadable expression.

  “Hey there,” Izumi said, offering a hand in greeting. “I’m Izumi. It’s nice to meet you.”

  Mina hesitated for a brief moment. “Citlalmina, though you can call me Mina. Nice to meet you, too.” Her accent was a neutral American’s accent, which contrasted heavily with Malina's Chinese-Native American cadence.

  Her’s gaze lingered on Izumi's face, a strange intensity behind it that made me feel a bit uneasy. It was like she was trying to see past her exterior, looking for something in particular. But then, just as quickly, the moment passed.

  Sochi, on the other hand, stepped forward, extending a hand towards me with a hesitant smile. "Hello, I'm Sochi. Thanks for... well, all of this," he said, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness.

  I took his hand, shaking it firmly, and tried to put on a reassuring smile as I looked away from the girls. "It's good to meet you, Sochi. We're all just trying to make the best out of a challenging situation. Your sister's been a big help today."

  Sochi nodded appreciatively. "She did say you were really kind. I... thank you for that."

  "You're welcome," I replied, genuinely glad that I had done something to help their situation, even if indirectly.

  Out of the corner of my vision, Mina's eyes darted around, subtly scanning our ramshackle home. I noticed she carried herself with a coiled readiness, the kind I’d seen in people who had too much experience with danger.

  I could tell that behind her well-mannered front, she was on edge. Not the jittery sort of tension you'd see in a typical little girl, but the controlled alertness of someone who knew how to handle themselves in a fight. It was something in the way she moved, a certain situational awareness that mirrored our own when we were on the road.

  Izumi noticed the shift in Mina's demeanor and responded. "Something on your mind, Mina?" she asked softly.

  Mina hesitated, glancing at Izumi with a careful gaze. The air seemed to thicken, charged with an unspoken tension.

  "Sorry. Just… a little nervous. We’re new here and I’ve been a bit on edge," Mina finally responded with a guarded but friendly tone.

  Izum seemed to sense the unease in the air. She offered Mina a reassuring smile. "It's just a house in an old run-down block. Nothing special about it. Home sweet home, though!"

  Mina's eyes lingered on Izumi a second longer before she replied, "I am just... getting accustomed to the place. This has been a lot to take in. My apologies."

  Izumi looked like she was about to press further, but a sharp glance from our father had her biting her tongue. I could see the wheels turning in her head, trying to piece together the puzzle before her. She had that suspicious glint in her eyes, the one that told me she had picked up on something she didn't like.

  "We understand, Mina. Now, cmon," Dad said diplomatically, motioning for everyone to head inside. "Why don't we all get comfortable? I’ll go get started on dinner.”

  I was about to suggest helping, but Rai-chan’s robotic voice echoed in my head. "Ikki... There was a brief spike in mana in the vicinity when Mina looked at Izumi. Very subtle, but present."

  My heartbeat quickened.

  Mana?

  My heart raced, but I tried to keep my face neutral, not wanting to give anything away.

  I tried to play it cool, addressing Rai-chan mentally. "Could it be from any of the magitech devices they have?"

  "Possible, but unlikely," Rai-chan replied. "The signature is more organic, from someone trained in magical tradition.”

  Understanding Rai-chan's implication, a pit began to form in my stomach.

  I glanced at Izumi — my sister was acting normal, at least as normal as she ever acted. If anything, she seemed more curious about Mina than the other way around. Mina flashed an awkward smile this time, genuinely trying to brush off her momentary lapse in composure.

  "Well," Mina started, trying to redirect the conversation with a humble Chinese-style bow. "Let us talk about more pleasant things, like how we can help each other in the coming days. We are grateful for your hospitality. Truly."

  "Of course," Dad chimed in, welcomingly.

  Izumi, still not one to let things go easily, kept her eyes on Mina. “You sure you’re okay? You seemed… off for a moment out there.”

  Mina glanced down, her fingers playing with the edge of her jacket. "It has been a while since we've felt safe since we came under attack at our home. Even now, old habits die hard. I promise it's nothing you need to worry about."

  I met Mina's eyes, probing at her unspoken words. She knew something; I could see it in the way feet shuffled and her gaze lingered on mine just a moment too long before she looked away.

  But she held herself back, hiding whatever secret she was carrying. My gut told me it was more than just a reaction to past trauma.

  The evening had taken an unexpected turn, and a troubling gut instinct and thought crept into my mind.

  Who are these kids, really?