The coffee maker whistled like every morning.
Such an everyday sound… but for Iker, now charged with meaning.
Gabriel—the true occupant of that consciousness—was no longer surprised by her involuntary gestures: how she knew how to reach the kitchen with her eyes closed, how her hands turned on the right switches, how her throat asked for coffee with a drop of milk even though she never liked it.
This wasn't her body.
But every day, it felt less alien.
"Are you just going to stand there?"
Alma. Always firm, always tired.
She was sitting at the counter, a cup in her hands. She looked worn, as if life had seeped through her eyes.
She was wearing a simple robe, her hair effortlessly tied back. She hadn't even bothered to feign kindness.
"Good morning," he said, in a voice different from the one that mouth usually used. Softer. Less arrogant.
She didn't respond immediately. She just watched him suspiciously.
"So what now? Have you come to apologize for last night, or is this another phase of your silent dramas?"
Iker tilted his head.
Gabriel didn't know what "last night" meant, but his instinct told him the best response wasn't an excuse... but a pause.
"I don't remember what I did last night. But if I hurt you, I'm sorry."
That stopped her.
Alma's eyes narrowed, weighing each word.
"You? Sorry? What kind of joke is this?"
Iker lowered his gaze. He sat across from her for the first time in years, according to what he'd learned from the system's fragmented memories. That body had been there many times, but the soul... never.
"I don't know how to explain it," he said sincerely. "I just know I'm... trying to fix things."
She placed the cup on the bar with a soft thump.
"Why now? Why just when I'd decided to stop waiting for him?"
Silence.
He took a deep breath.
"Because if I realize it now, maybe it's not too late."
Alma froze. The intensity in her eyes began to tremble, as if part of her didn't want to get her hopes up, but another part... was starting to listen.
"The children asked about you yesterday," she said, lowering her voice.
Iker swallowed. He didn't answer.
Not because he didn't want to, but because he didn't know if he had the right to.
Codex: Emotion detected. Record synchronized with affective trajectories.
Advice: Maintain empathic pattern. Evaluating progress of primary relationship.
The voice in her head didn't interrupt. It only guided.
Alma looked at him for a long time before slowly standing up.
"You have an appointment with the pediatrician at eleven. If you're really trying to... be there, I'll wait for you at ten in the garage."
And he left.
Iker was left alone, holding the cup. The coffee was lukewarm.
But for the first time... it didn't taste bitter.
That night, in his room, he activated the system.
🧠 Emotional state: Stable. Family unit in the process of reconnecting.
Suggestion: Don't rush into technology implementation. The true ecosystem begins at home.
Gabriel smiled.
Maybe the Codex was right.