The drive finally ended after what felt like an eternity of swerves, scolding, and near-death experiences courtesy of Aunt Alura's "unique" driving. As the minivan rolled into the massive parking plaza of Sector 10's central district, Niero leaned forward and peered out the window—his eyes widening despite himself.
District 02 of Sector 10's Times Square was alive.
It was as if the entire city had been reborn in gold. Towering holo-banners rippled overhead, their luminous threads forming intricate mosaics of the Radiant Empress—her divine figure bathed in light, arms outstretched toward humanity below. The massive park at the heart of the square glittered beneath that glow, dominated by the colossal monument of the Empress herself: a radiant woman carved of pure crystal and mana-light, her nine Matriarch daughters kneeling in a semicircle at her feet, each holding a different emblem representing their divine domains.
Today marked the 87th Radiant Day, the anniversary of the day the Empress descended from the heavens to drive back the Hollow and save what remained of humankind.
The air was thick with celebration—music swelling through the speakers, children laughing as confetti drifted down like shimmering pollen. Food stalls lined every street corner, selling everything from steaming buns and glowing mana-drinks to candied fruits shaped like the Empress's sigil. A parade was forming near the far plaza, rows of Sororitae in gleaming armor marching in perfect unison, their voices rising in hymns of light.
"Whoa…" Daisy breathed from the window seat, her face pressed against the glass. "It's even bigger and better than last year!"
"Of course it is," Niero said, stepping out to stretch his legs. "They probably added another monument or two just to make it 'grander'."
"Don't be such a cynic," Aunt Alura muttered, slipping on her sunglasses to hide her hangover. "Let people worship their space goddess in peace."
"She's not a space goddess," Emmy corrected, carefully unloading the cupcake trays from the back of the van. "She's the savior of humankind. Show some respect."
"Right, right," Alura replied half-heartedly, yawning. "Praise be to her lunar holiness."
Niero exhaled a small laugh as he joined them, grabbing two trays to help. The air felt charged—not just with mana, but with faith. All around him, people wore radiant pins, waved flags bearing the Empress's sigil, and chanted blessings for her eternal light.
It was a festival of devotion and hope.
Massive holo-screens above the square flared to life, projecting a dramatized recreation of the Empress's arrival: her radiant form descending from the heavens, light spilling across a dying Earth as monstrous silhouettes dissolved beneath her touch. The crowd erupted in cheers. Even Niero—who'd seen it every year—couldn't help but feel the hum of awe that pulsed through the square.
"Alright, team!" Emmy said with that warm yet commanding tone that could silence chaos. "Let's set up our booth before the rush starts. Sophie, help me with the banner. Daisy, make sure Pumpkin doesn't step on the frosting again. Alura… please try not to flirt with the customers this time, especially the married husbands."
"No promises," Alura said with a wink, already helping herself to a cupcake.
Niero shook his head, smiling faintly. For all their quirks and madness, this was his family—loud, chaotic, and full of love.
As they began unloading and setting up the Maison Bella stall amid the golden glow of the city's greatest celebration, Niero found his gaze drifting back to the monument—the Empress's crystal form, eyes gazing heavenward toward the distant moon.
The Ripley family finally arrived at their assigned booth within Sector 10-2's Times Square Park—a lively corner of the massive event ground that was already thrumming with music and chatter. Their stall sat beneath a canopy trimmed with gold and white ribbons, the same radiant colors that fluttered all across the city today. Niero and his mother began unpacking boxes and setting up the equipment they'd brought along: a well-used coffeemaker humming to life, a electric kettle to boil water, an assortment of tea bags, a small stove with a heated plate ready for stuffed pancakes and crepes, a trusty microwave oven for warming their pastries, even rented a medium-sized fridge for keeping the ingredients cooled. The scent of freshly baked cupcakes—each one decorated with the sigil of the Radiant Empress in shimmering edible gold—soon mingled with the festival air.
Meanwhile, Aunt Alura, still reeling from last night's overindulgent "celebration," decided to take what she called a "power nap" behind the booth. Pumpkin, the family's lazy cat, had somehow claimed her lap as his throne, purring contently while she dozed.
Daisy and Sophie, on the other hand, were all energy and excitement. The two girls could hardly stand still, whispering eagerly about how amazing it would be if members of the Sororitae—the all-female order of holy protectors—actually stopped by their booth. To them, it wasn't just about selling cupcakes; it was the chance of meeting their idols in person.
Once everything was in place, Niero and his mother, Emmy, took a moment to survey their surroundings that is filled with crowds, music, lights, and booths. Their little corner of the festival was surrounded by an eclectic mix of booths—on their left, a pastel-themed ice cream stand blasting cheerful pop music seemingly from the 50s; on the right, a Thai-style grill filling the air with the mouthwatering aroma of smoky spices and sweet chili by some Thai men with smile and fire; and just across the path, a kindly old lady and her shy grandson arranging rows of hand-knitted plush toys shaped like chubby animals and tiny angels. The contrast between sizzling food, sugary scents, and soft crafts made the whole section feel like a living postcard of Radiant Day's warmth and joy.
Emmy clapped her hands once, her usual bright smile lighting up her face. "Alright, team—starting now, nine in the morning, business and fun both begin!" she declared, her tone as cheerful as the morning sun.
"Yes, ma'am!" Sophie and Daisy shouted in unison, raising their fists in the air with contagious energy.
Niero gave a half-hearted thumbs-up, his voice dry. "Woo. Radiant Day. Let's sell some cupcakes."
From behind the booth, a muffled groan came from Aunt Alura, who barely raised her head from her makeshift pillow. "Yay… commerce…" she muttered weakly before turning over, Pumpkin meowing in sleepy agreement.
Emmy only sighed, her smile turning amused. "Honestly, you two could at least *pretend* to be excited."
=====
By the time the clock struck 11 a.m., the once-breezy square had transformed into a sea of color and sound. The 87th Radiant Day, celebrated on March 13th, 2087, was now in full swing. The air thrummed with excitement—the gentle morning hum giving way to the roar of a festival in bloom.
Music from the parade floats rolled through the streets, upbeat and triumphant, echoing off the glass walls of towering arcology spires. Bubbles drifted lazily through the air, catching sunlight and scattering rainbow glints over the crowd, while bursts of gold and white confetti rained down like blessings from above.
Street performers filled every corner—acrobats flipping between lampposts, magicians dazzling children with shimmering light tricks, and costumed dancers moving in elegant, synchronized waves that mimicked the Radiant Empress's flowing robes from the holo-screens above. The smells of sweet fried dough, spiced meat skewers, and syrup-glazed fruit blended together into a heady perfume that made the entire district feel alive.
Laughter and cheers flooded the square, rippling through the endless crowd of citizens, tourists, and pilgrims alike. For a moment, Sector 10-2's Time Square felt like a slice of heaven—an oasis of light, joy, and unity within the steel labyrinth of Mega Ark-City 01. It was humanity at its brightest, celebrating their salvation beneath the eternal gaze of the Radiant Empress's monument, her serene stone smile gleaming beneath the falling confetti.
But the true spectacle of Radiant Day was yet to come. As dazzling as the morning festivities were, they were only the prelude—the grand highlight was set for the afternoon, when the entire square would fall into hushed awe at the start of the Honor March of Radiance.
It was a tradition older than most citizens alive—a breathtaking parade that brought together the three mightiest forces of Mega Ark-City 01. Leading the march would be the disciplined ranks of the M.A.C. Military, their uniforms of green-grey camouflage crisp and immaculate, their armored vehicles gleaming under the artificial sunlight. The rhythmic clang of boots, the whir of drones, and the glint of alloy rifles would paint a picture of unyielding human strength.
Following them, like radiant dreams brought to life, would come the Sororitae Regiments—the city's beloved heroines. Each wore their own distinctive, magical girl–like combat uniforms, tailored to the color and nature of their powers. The crowd always adored them most: living symbols of beauty and might, waving gracefully as they passed, the energy fields around them flickering like auroras.
And then there were the Ordo Bellatrix—tall, battle-hardened women clad in nun-like warrior armor, their slender silhouettes gleaming with sacred silver light. They moved in solemn unity, their presence both divine and intimidating. The Bellatrix were living saints of war, protectors of the Radiant Faith and enforcers of the Empress's divine order.
Behind them, the parade floats would roll in—massive, shimmering platforms carrying statues of the Radiant Empress and her Nine Matriarch Daughters, each sculpted in immaculate detail and wreathed in radiant light. The holo-screens around the plaza promised that this year's display would be "the most spectacular and colorful fireworks show yet—bigger, brighter, and bolder than anything seen in the last Radiant Day!"
Already, excitement buzzed in the air like static before a storm. Everyone knew: when the afternoon came, the city itself would shine.
And as if the parade and festivities weren't grand enough, the organizers had promised something truly spectacular this year—a live holographic projection broadcast straight from the heart of Sector 01, the core of Mega Ark-City 01 itself.
From the summit of the Radiant Spire, the colossal golden tower that pierced the city's heavens and wound in living harmony with one of the Edentrees, a vision of the divine would descend upon the crowd. The projection would reveal none other than the First Matriarch—Isadora, the Red Warlord.
Even before the event began, her image filled every holo-screen and advertisement across the plaza. She stood as a figure of both majesty and ferocity—a woman as deadly as she was beautiful, clad in crimson-tinged armor that gleamed like molten gold. Her auburn-red hair cascaded behind her in a fiery wave, reflecting the inner flame of her spirit. Every movement she made carried both grace and authority, every glance spoke of command born from centuries of unbroken vigilance.
Isadora was the kind of leader people whispered about even in their dreams—a warlord wrapped in elegance, a protector whose smile was both a blessing and a warning. Her citizens adored her not only for her strength and courage, but for her steady warmth—the calm at the heart of the storm. She was known for walking among the wounded during past crises, for leading from the front lines when the Hollow threatened the city walls.
Today, she would speak to them once more—to offer words of guidance, gratitude, and radiant faith. The moment her holographic form appeared, the entire Times Square would shimmer in reverent silence.
The crowds buzzed with anticipation, children clutching flags of gold and white, elders whispering prayers beneath the city's sunlight. Even Niero, standing behind his family's café booth, could feel it—the rising tide of awe that rolled through the people of the Radiant City.
=====
With Mom stepping out to meet her circle of café-owner friends, the responsibility of running Maison Bella's booth fell to the three Ripley siblings. The morning crowd had swelled into a colorful sea of excitement, and the scent of sugar, butter, and warm crepes wafted through the air like a soft enchantment.
Niero manned the counter with practiced ease, his sleeves rolled up, moving between trays of cupcakes and steaming cups of coffee with the smooth rhythm of someone who'd been doing this his entire life. His calm composure, the faint smile on his face, and that natural warmth in his voice drew people in like moths to gentle light.
And—inevitably—it began.
A group of college girls, dressed in bright Radiant Day outfits, leaned against the counter, giggling.
"Hey, handsome—do you have a girlfriend?" one asked with a teasing grin.
"You shouldn't be wasting your looks on café work," another chimed in, eyes sparkling.
Even a few middle-aged women from the neighboring stalls joined in, making cheeky remarks about "young men who know how to bake" and "how rare it is to see one around these days."
Despite he was seen as a clam and cool mature guy, what none of them realized is that Niero Ripley himself was only fifteen.
Sophie and Daisy, watching from the side, could practically feel their blood pressure spike.
Sophie's expression darkened like a thundercloud as she crossed her arms. "Unbelievable. Half of them probably think he's in college."
Daisy puffed her cheeks, glaring daggers at the flirting women. "Gross! He's just my brother! Don't they have anything better to do?"
Pumpkin, sprawled lazily beside the cashbox, flicked his tail in disinterest—though the fat orange tabby was far from idle. The sign above him read, "PET THE PUMPKIN – 1 CREDIT." It turned out to be a goldmine; customers lined up to stroke his soft fur, only for Pumpkin to collect their affection like tribute, eyes half-lidded and smug.
Amid the commotion, Niero simply sighed and kept working. "Relax, you two," he said, setting down a steaming cup of cocoa with careful precision. "Let them talk. Our focus is on sales and keeping the line moving."
He straightened up, wiping his hands on his apron before flashing a cool, businesslike smile. "Remember—this is the biggest event of the year. If we do well, Maison Bella could be featured in the local food reel. So eyes on the goal, not on the gawkers."
Sophie grumbled under her breath but returned to arranging pastries. Daisy pouted and stayed close to her brother, almost like a tiny guard dog. And as the music swelled and laughter filled the plaza, Maison Bella's little booth flourished—a family business holding its ground amid the golden celebration of Radiant Day.
=====
As noon approached, the plaza grew even busier. Music thundered from the stage screens, bubbles floated through the air like drifting orbs of light, and Maison Bella's booth had become a small island of heavenly aroma amid the chaos. Niero moved with steady rhythm behind the counter, unfazed by the rush.
It was then that a pair of Enforcers approached the booth—officers of the M.A.C. Police Department, or MAC.PD, their presence commanding and sharp even in the festive atmosphere. Their dark-blue uniforms gleamed under the sunlight, armored vests hugging their forms, and faint blue lights pulsed from the seams of their sleek bodysuits—the smart-fabric models that boosted physical strength and hardened upon impact.
Despite their formidable gear, the two women wore bright smiles that softened their otherwise intimidating aura.
"Well, well," one of them said, resting an elbow on the counter. "Didn't expect to find such a cute barista out here in Sector 10-2's plaza."
Her partner chuckled, tilting her cap. "You think we get a law enforcement discount, handsome?"
Sophie, wiping down the espresso machine, visibly twitched. Daisy puffed her cheeks, her glare sharp enough to cut through alloy.
But Niero only exhaled a quiet sigh, maintaining his calm professional tone. "There is a discount," he said evenly, "if you buy a small batch—with a complimentary hot coffee for each officer."
The two Enforcers exchanged a look, clearly amused. "He's got a business sense and manners. Dangerous combination," one said, teasing as she pulled out her cred-chip.
"Make that two boxes of cupcakes," her partner added with a grin. "Wouldn't want to miss out on your special service."
Sophie's eye twitched again. Daisy muttered something about "arresting themselves for harassment."
Niero handed over the boxes and the steaming cups of Maison Bella's special brew, his polite smile unshaken. "Maison Bella appreciates your service. Enjoy the Radiant Day festivities, officers."
The women laughed, thanked him, and strutted off into the crowd, sipping their coffee with satisfied grins.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Sophie leaned on the counter with a flat stare. "You attract trouble like sugar attracts ants."
"Not my fault people like coffee," Niero replied dryly.
Pumpkin, sprawled on the cashbox, flicked his tail as if in agreement—or amusement.
Daisy crossed her arms and huffed. "Next time, I'm telling them the cupcakes are off-limits to flirty customers!"
"Then we'd go bankrupt," Niero said under his breath, but his faint grin betrayed him.
Meanwhile, at the back of the booth, Aunt Alura sat slouched in a foldable chair, legs crossed, a half-empty cup of coffee balanced precariously on her knee. Her oversized sunglasses gleamed under the warm festival lights, giving her an air of lazy authority—as if she were supervising the entire operation.
In truth, she hadn't moved an inch in nearly an hour.
When Niero finally turned from the espresso machine, he eyed her suspiciously. "You know," he said dryly, "It would be nice if you help out a little."
No response.
He leaned closer, then gently lifted the edge of her sunglasses. Her eyes were shut—deeply, peacefully, shamelessly asleep.
"…Unbelievable," he muttered.
By the time the clock neared noon, the scent of grilled food and sweet frosting filled the air, mixing with the cheerful hum of laughter and music. That was when Mom—Emmy Ripley— came bustling back through the crowd, carrying shopping bags full of souvenirs and that unstoppable sparkle in her eyes.
"Alright, everyone!" she called, clapping her hands. "Family photo time! This'll go perfectly on our café's Radiant Day reel!"
Sophie blinked. "Now? While Aunt Alura's dead to the world?"
Emmy grinned, waving her holocam. "Especially now. It's vintage Alura energy—authentic family spirit!"
Before anyone could protest, she pulled them all close, arranging them in front of the booth. Daisy wedged herself between Niero and Sophie, flashing a peace sign; Pumpkin sat smugly on Alura's lap, tail twitching as if he knew he was the true star of the show. Aunt Alura, of course, remained out cold, her sunglasses slightly crooked as her head tilted to the side in blissful ignorance.
"Okay, say 'Maison Bella forever~!'"
"Maison Bella forever…" Niero, Sophie, and Daisy chimed, half-embarrassed, half-laughing. The camera flashed—freezing the chaos, warmth, and absurdity into a single frame. The shutter clicked, capturing the chaos and charm of another Radiant Day morning.
When the holographic preview flickered to life, Niero found himself staring. Amid the laughter and pastel glow of frosting and sunlight, he looked at the image his mom had just taken—her arm outstretched, grinning wide, with Sophie and Daisy pressed close on either side of him. And in the backseat, Aunt Alura "posed" as usual—pretending to be awake behind her sunglasses, mouth slightly open in her signature totally alert nap pose.
When the image appeared on Mom's holo-screen, Niero couldn't help but notice one small detail that quietly stood out—his own reflection.
Everyone else looked so normal: Mom's deep brown hair catching the soft gold light as she smiled warmly, Aunt Alura's sleek black locks framing her ever-laid-back grin, Sophie's lively chestnut curls complementing her mature yet youthful charm, and Daisy's sunlit blonde shining with that boundless, sunny energy.
And then there was him—black hair marked by a single white forelock, a trait most people called piebaldism, though he'd never been certain. A faint scar cut across his right brow like a misplaced punctuation mark, and his skin looked just a shade paler than the rest.
He brushed the scar above his right brow, thumb tracing the faint ridge of skin as if the rough edge might offer an answer words never could. The longer he stared at the photo, the more he felt like he didn't belong in it—like someone who'd wandered into the wrong family picture, smiling beside people who already looked whole without him. His sisters seemed like variations of the same song—different shades, same melody—while he was the stray note that didn't quite fit the harmony.
Still, it wasn't exactly strange. He and his sisters were half-siblings after all, born from the same mother but through different certified donors—part of the government's fertility and population initiative. With the male population dwindling, regulated artificial insemination and surrogacy had long become the norm. Every healthy boy at fifteen was required to donate genetic samples to the Bloom Dominion's Genetic Reproductive Bank, their contributions catalogued, screened, and preserved to ensure humanity's continuity.
It was efficient. Practical. Necessary.
And yet, as Niero looked at the photo again, he couldn't shake the quiet thought that somewhere in that carefully controlled process, something about him had come out wrong.
Mom couldn't help smiling at the adorable family photo in her hands. "Oh, how beautiful this is! Me, Alura, and my three cute babies—all together in one picture on this auspicious day." She pulled Niero, Sophie, and Daisy into a big, warm hug before a customer called for attention. With a cheerful hum, Mom and Daisy went off to prepare the pastries, leaving Niero and Sophie to manage their station and serve the customers.
He uttered quietly to himself. "Guess I really don't fit the color palette, huh?"
Sophie leaned over his shoulder, her caramel eyes narrowing playfully. "What's with that face? Don't tell me the photo didn't catch your handsome side?"
Niero glanced at her, lips twitching. "What? Every side is my handsome side," he said dryly, flashing her a half-smile.
Sophie snorted, giving his arm a light smack. "Cocky as ever, jackass."
But her grin lingered—warm, teasing, and real—and somehow, that made the strange heaviness in Niero's chest fade just a little.
Niero's thoughts scattered when a shrill voice pierced through the cheerful hum of the crowd.
"Hey! I said I want that one!"
He blinked, lowering the tablet he'd been using to take orders. A small boy, maybe eight or nine, stood at the counter—messy hair, designer hoodie, and an expression that screamed trouble. Before Niero could greet him, the kid reached over the counter, snatched a Radiant Day cupcake topped with sugar-glitter, and stuffed a bite into his mouth.
"Whoa there, kiddo—" Niero leaned forward, keeping his tone polite but firm. "You gotta pay first. This isn't a free sample stall."
The boy glared at him, cheeks full of frosting. "Why should I? My mom says people like you work for people like me!"
Niero's brow twitched. "People like me?" He forced a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Kid, manners are free. You might wanna try those sometime."
The boy's face turned red, either from embarrassment or defiance—probably both. Then, with a smug little smirk, he grabbed his half-finished strawberry milkshake and flung it.
Cold pink liquid splattered across Niero's apron, shirt, and even his hair. The crowd gasped; Sophie and Daisy let out a horrified squeak. The boy just laughed—an obnoxious, high-pitched cackle.
"Ha! Take that, you butt-munching loser!"
For a moment, Niero froze—half in disbelief, half in quiet fury. His jaw tightened as a drop of milkshake slid down his cheek. The last thing he wanted was to make a scene, especially with customers watching, but he could feel the heat crawling up his neck.
Sophie and Daisy exchanged panicked looks, while Aunt Alura—still pretending to nap—peeked one eye open from behind her sunglasses, muttering something about "kids these days."
Niero took a slow breath, forcing calm into his voice. "All right, kid. You're gonna apologize, and then you're gonna tell your parents you nearly wasted a perfectly good cupcake."
The boy kept laughing, pointing at the strawberry-stained apron. "Haha! Eat shit, Loser! You look like you spilled your brains on yourself!"
Something in Niero's patience finally snapped. His smile faded into something dry and razor-edged. "Wow, a real comedian. Tell me, kid—did you come up with that before or after failing kindergarten, shit-for-brain little fucker?"
That made the boy blink in shock. "W-What?! You can't say that to me!"
"Oh, I just did."
Just then, a sharply dressed woman—clearly his mother—stormed over, clutching her purse like a weapon. "Excuse me! Did you just insult my son? How dare you—he's just a child!"
"Yeah?" Niero shot back flatly, wiping his apron with a towel. "Then maybe teach your child that throwing food at people isn't how civilized humans behave."
Her mouth fell open. "How rude!"
"Rude?" Niero arched a brow. "Lady, I'm *covered* in his milkshake. We passed 'rude' about three tantrums ago. Your little shit-for-brains kid is a thief and a menace—because of you. Maybe you should go back to parenting class and study up on how to be a better mother and discipline your snot-nosed, crotch goblin."
The kid's mother pulled aback by his very rude insult. Before she could retort, an elderly woman—clearly the matriarch of the trio—appeared behind her, angrily shaking a cane. "You kissed your mother with that filthy mouth of your, young man? You ought to respect your elders!"
Niero sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "With all due respect, ma'am—maybe start by teaching your descendants what respect actually looks like before you bring another poor excuse of a parent into the world. And if you're too senile to notice what your grandkid just did, maybe it's time to head back to the old folks' home where you came from, you wrinkly old bat!!!"
For a few seconds, all three of them just stood there—stunned silent. Even the brat seemed to shrink behind his mother.
Daisy whispered to Sophie, "Uh… did Niero just roast three generations in one breath?"
Sophie nodded slowly. "I think he just did."
Before the awkward silence could settle too long, a firm smack landed on the back of Niero's head.
"—Achk!" He turned around, only to find his mother standing there, smiling sweetly but with that unmistakable 'you're in trouble' glint in her eyes.
"Apologize," she said in that calm, dangerous tone every Ripley child feared.
Niero groaned. "Mom, this little fucker threw a milkshake at me!"
"I know," she replied, already guiding him by the shoulder toward the booth. "But Maison Bella doesn't start fights with customers. We smile, apologize, and make it right—especially on Radiant Day, understand?"
He sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah, yeah… professionalism, safety, and happiness."
"That's my boy."
With a reluctant expression, Niero turned back to the stunned trio and bowed slightly while speak in a non-apologetic monotonous tone. "Sorry about earlier. I… overreacted. Let me make it up to you." He handed over three complimentary Radiant Day cupcakes and iced lemon teas, earning an awkward but accepting nod from the family before they left quickly.
As soon as they were out of sight, Emmy looked at his milkshake-soaked hoodie and jacket, her expression softening. "I get why you snapped. That kid was a handful... and you're probably right about the kid's lack of disciplinary upbringing. But still… you can't let anger takes over you and ruin your mood, sweetheart. Especially not today."
"I know," Niero muttered, flicking at a sticky strand of strawberry cream. "It's just… ugh, this is gross."
"Then go get cleaned up," she said with a laugh, patting his shoulder. "Your sisters and I will man the booth for now. There a public bathroom somewhere in the corner, go there to get yourself clean up."
He gave a monotones small salute. "Yes, ma'am."
As Niero left for the nearby restroom, Sophie leaned toward Daisy and whispered, "Think he's gonna explode again and murder that kid?"
Daisy giggled. "Nah. Mom already hit the reset button... Or at least I hope not."
As soon as Niero disappeared into the crowd, a booming voice echoed through the air—
"Attention, everyone! The grand Radiant Day parade will begin shortly! Please gather along the main avenue for the best view!"
The announcement blared from the holo-speakers across the park, accompanied by the cheerful march of festival music and the hiss of confetti cannons being prepped for the main event. The crowd began to buzz with excitement; children ran to the roadside, adults pulled out their holocams, and vendors cheered as their sales skyrocketed.
Emmy wiped her hands on her apron and leaned out from behind the counter, scanning the direction her son had gone. "Oh, Niero…" she muttered under her breath. "I hope you heard that, sweetheart."
Beside her, Sophie was already clutching Daisy's hand in excitement. "Mom, it's starting! We should get a spot to watch!"
Emmy smiled faintly, glancing toward the restroom area one last time. "We'll wait a bit. He'll be back any second, I'm sure of it."
Behind them, Aunt Alura—still wearing her sunglasses and half-awake—mumbled something incoherent about "fireworks at noon" before snoring again, Pumpkin's orange tail flicking lazily atop her lap.
=====
Niero made his way back to the family minivan, sighing as the sticky, sweet smell of strawberry milk clung to his clothes. "Perfect. Nothing like smelling like a dessert to start the day," he muttered, yanking open the back door. He tossed his jacket onto the passenger seat with a wet thump and rummaged through the backseat for a spare shirt.
After a brief search, he pulled out a crumpled white T-shirt—only to notice it was absolutely covered in orange cat fur and tugged fabrics. Pumpkin. "Of course," he groaned. "Should've known carry some spare." He threw his jacket into the vehicle while muttered about Pumpkin's tendencies to use his cloths as its bed.
Resigned, he headed for the nearest men's restroom by the plaza fountain while still drenched in sticky strawberry-flavored milk. The air inside was cool, smelling faintly of air freshener and disinfectant within the oddly furnished as if they were inside the public toilet in malls, while the sound of men talking about the event or their personal topics. He took off his shirt and began scrubbing it in the sink with cold water, muttering under his breath. "All because of one fucking brat with no manners…"
As he wrung out the fabric, something in the corner of his vision caught his attention—a trio of heads peeking from around the back high window of the men's public bathroom. Three girls, possibly no older than middle schoolers, were watching the interior wide-eyed, whispering frantically to each other.
The instant Niero turned his head toward them, their eyes went wide like startled cats. "Ah! He saw us!" one squeaked before all three bolted down the hallway in a flurry of giggles and embarrassment.
Niero stared after them for a second, water still dripping from his shirt. "...Dumb curious kids," he sighed, shaking his head before going back to rinsing out the milkshake stains. "What kind of world lets that count as entertainment?"
Just as Niero was wringing the last drops of water from his hoodie, a familiar voice echoed softly in his head—clear, feminine, and threaded with static like a radio transmission.
> "Niero… anomaly detected. North-northwest. Forty meters. In the alley beside the east food court."
He froze, eyes flicking toward the mirror. The reflection showed nothing—just the same faintly flickering fluorescent light—but he knew that voice anywhere.
"Where is it, Vuldyr…?" he whispered under his breath.
> "I'm projecting the coordinates now." she replied coolly, her tone as calm as ever.
In an instant, a faint blue-indigo holographic HUD shimmered into view before his eyes—only visible to him. A semi-transparent mini-map bloomed, dots and lines mapping the area around Times Square Park. One section pulsed red, faint distortion lines radiating from it like ripples on water.
Niero's pulse quickened. "You're kidding. There's an anomaly here? Now? During Radiant Day?"
> "Possibly environmental-type," Vuldyr said, her tone shifting slightly—analytical, almost clinical. "Energy readings are unstable, but it's not shown as mobile as an Entity-class. Proceed with caution."
"Got it. caution," Niero muttered sarcastically, already tugging his half-wet hoodie back on. The fabric clung uncomfortably to his skin, cold against his back. "Because that's what I'm known for."
> "Niero, remember: even with the minor grinding and constant physical training, you're are still at Level 8, barely out from the Awakening Phase of the Mortal Realm. I highly discourage to fight the anomalies that are possibly stronger than you!"
"Understand. If it gets too tough, running away is an option" Niero muttered.
He burst out of the restroom into the blinding sunlight, weaving through the growing crowd. Music thundered in the streets, confetti floated like snow, and holographic banners flared with the radiant smile of the Empress—blissfully unaware that something unnatural pulsed just beyond the celebration's edge.
Niero reached into his pocket and pulled out a tightly folded piece of black fabric. Without breaking stride, he unfolded and slipped it over his face—a sleek balaclava mask that clung to his skin like a second layer.
Within seconds, the cheerful boy from the café was gone.
In his place stood a different Niero—eyes sharp, heart thrumming with anticipation. The grin that stretched beneath the mask wasn't one of amusement, but hunger.
He could already feel it—the rush, the pulse, the thrill that came only when he danced on the edge of danger.
"Guess the day's about to get interesting," he murmured under his breath, pushing deeper into the crowd toward the alley glowing red on his unseen map.
As Niero sprinted through the swelling crowd toward the growing anomaly, the streets around him pulsed with life—the parade's energy swelling to a fever pitch. Music thundered from floats, confetti rained from above, and laughter filled the air, masking the rising tension. The scent of food stalls and the flash of neon lights blurred together as more people gathered, oblivious to the danger brewing just ahead.
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<<<[ Ch 03: The 87th Radiant Day - END ]>>>