Chapter 35 - Pranks and Rings

Sunday is meant to be my day of rest, my little slice of peace in a chaotic week. Most Sundays, you’d find me sprawled on my bed, phone in hand, playing mobile games with old high school buddies—sometimes joined by Neil and Remuel. But today was different.

Agent Feena called us in first thing in the morning, just as the clock hit eight. The timing was cruel, especially since I’d been up until two playing games. The lack of sleep was a heavy weight pressing down on me, leaving me bleary-eyed and sluggish, my energy drained to the dregs.

Myrrh didn’t seem to be faring much better. She slouched beside me on the sofa in the investigations office, her usual polished appearance slightly disheveled. A single rebellious cowlick jutted from her lime-green hair—a rare sight, given how meticulous she usually was. Dark shadows under her eyes betrayed her exhaustion, making her look uncharacteristically fragile.

Agent Feena, on the other hand, radiated sharp efficiency. She handed us steaming cups of coffee, her movements precise and deliberate. She settled into a nearby sofa, crossing her legs gracefully, her eyes scanning us with practiced scrutiny. Her expression softened as she smiled, though there was a glint of steel beneath the warmth.

Between sips of the bittersweet coffee, Myrrh and I recounted the events of the previous day in painstaking detail. Feena listened intently, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup as her gaze flickered between us.

“Project HUSBANDO, huh…” she murmured, her voice low and contemplative. Her eyes narrowed slightly as if searching her memory. “That project was real, but it’s ancient—dating back to the early days of humanity’s technological ascent. It’s even older than the creation of WAIFUs, predating Xyraxis itself.”

Myrrh tightened her grip on her cup, her voice barely above a whisper. “So Ismail was telling the truth. But… that’s all. He seemed more curious about Zaft than anything else. No threats, no demands—just poker and small talk.”

Feena leaned back, her gaze thoughtful. “He may be chasing the Red Meteor—the very thing I’ve been tracking. But make no mistake: Ismail is as dangerous and wanted as that Frame Unit.”

Her words hung heavy in the air. I frowned, my curiosity getting the better of me. “You said he’s a wanted terrorist. It’s my first time hearing his name. What did he do?”

Feena tilted her head slightly, the faintest shadow crossing her face. The answer was coming, and I could tell it would be more than I bargained for.

“He’s a master hacker,” Agent Feena began, her tone measured but tinged with gravity. “His cybernetic implants—especially his eyes—are his most potent tools. Through them, he encodes complex computer commands faster than most can type a single sentence. He was the orchestrator of the infamous cybersecurity breach that shook the world’s greatest superpowers—America, Russia, China. Hundreds of thousands of classified documents stolen in one fell swoop. But no leaks ever followed, no demands made. Since there was no tangible fallout, the governments swept it under the rug, burying the incident from public view.”

I rubbed my chin thoughtfully, piecing together the implications. “Maybe that’s how he learned about Project HUSBANDO. But… why would he share that with me?”

Agent Feena’s piercing gaze locked onto mine, and her next words sent a chill down my spine. “Tell me—are you, in any way, a lab rat who escaped from the project?”

“W-What?” The air seemed to freeze around me as fear tightened its grip. “Of course not! I had a normal childhood! A normal life! I even had an eventful high school!”

Her expression hardened, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. “What if those memories aren’t yours?” she pressed, her voice cold and relentless. “What if they were planted? Fabrications designed to keep you unaware? The cybernetic genome experiments were notorious for warping a male test subject’s mind. That’s precisely why the procedure was banned for male humans—it’s far too dangerous. But what if…” Her voice dropped to a near-whisper, every word cutting like a blade. “What if you’re one of them?”

Her question hung in the air, suffocating and inescapable. My heart pounded in my chest, a frantic rhythm of denial and uncertainty. Could it be true? Were my memories my own, or was there a deeper truth lurking beneath the surface?

A chill ran down my spine, spreading like ice through my veins. My hand trembled slightly as I raised it, the motion betraying the turmoil inside me. If everything in my mind was nothing more than an illusion—a construct—I wouldn’t even know what was real anymore. The thought clawed at my sanity, gnawing at the edges of my perception. Could this explain why I’d seen the Machine God? Why I had access to the Weapons of Mass Destruction Series in the WEEB System?

I shifted my gaze to Myrrh. Her expression mirrored Agent Feena’s, a sharp, piercing glare that sent another shiver through me. They were both looking at me like I was… broken. Like a patient in need of urgent care—or worse, someone teetering on the edge of madness. My skin prickled as a bead of cold sweat traced a slow path down my cheek.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Then, without warning, Myrrh snorted. “Pfft!”

Her laughter exploded like a firecracker, and Agent Feena wasn’t far behind. “Hahaha!” she burst out, leaning forward to ruffle my hair with a grin.

“You should have seen your face!” Myrrh cackled, slapping my shoulder repeatedly between gasps of laughter. “Hahaha!”

I blinked, completely thrown off. “Wait… so I’m not a HUSBANDO?”

“Of course not, idiot!” Myrrh wiped a tear from her eye, still grinning. “I’ve known you since high school. Your memories are real, dumbass.” She leaned in and tousled my hair like I was some clueless puppy. “We got you good, huh?”

My jaw tightened, and I shot them both a withering glare. “I hope you two die.”

“Hey, don’t look at me.” Feena held up her hands in mock surrender, her laughter subsiding into a sly smile. “This was Myrrh’s idea. She messaged me last night to plan the whole thing.”

I turned to Myrrh, my glare icy and unwavering. “I hope you die again. For good this time.”

“There, there, don’t be so dramatic, Zaft,” Myrrh cooed, patting my head like a child who’d lost a game. “No need to hold a grudge. I just wanted to lighten the mood. You’ve been so tense since yesterday.”

“Lighten the mood?” I groaned, brushing her hand away. “Screw off.”

“Oh, don’t be such a sourpuss.” She grinned, clearly reveling in her victory. “We just wanted to see you crack a little. And, boy, did you!”

I leaned back into the sofa, my arms crossed and my pride in shambles. At least the weight of yesterday had eased… even if it came at my expense.

Myrrh was getting frighteningly good at playing with my emotions. Yesterday, she’d managed to twist my fear into a flicker of infatuation with a simple gesture—holding my hand. Then she’d annoyed me with her usual teasing, and now she’d elevated it to full-blown anger by dragging Agent Feena into a prank. My emotional bandwidth felt stretched to its limits, and frankly, I didn’t have any space left to be scared of a cyber terrorist like Ismail Arondight.

“Anyway…” Agent Feena leaned back into the sofa, crossing her arms with a measured calm that only she could manage. “We’re still piecing things together, but given his track record, there’s a high chance Ismail was behind the Xyraxis blackout. How he managed to shut down the Archonlight Tower and lure the Cosmic Beast to this city is still a mystery. But the evidence—the picture of the Red Meteor he left with you two—makes his involvement likely.”

“That’s… a dangerous person,” I muttered, the weight of her words settling uneasily in my chest. “I certainly hope we’ll never meet again.”

For once, Myrrh stopped playing around. She released my hair and sat up straight, her posture shifting into something refined, almost regal. The playful mischief in her eyes dimmed, replaced by a quiet seriousness.

“If only you could get your licenses sooner,” Agent Feena said, her gaze lingering on us thoughtfully. “I’d love to have you both on my team. So, make sure you win that tournament and secure your licenses.”

“Consider it done,” Myrrh replied with a confident smirk, raising her coffee cup in a mock toast before taking a delicate sip.

I sighed, slumping into the cushions. “I’d honestly prefer to avoid agents, terrorists, and whatever cosmic disasters are waiting around the corner. But since I’m apparently the target, I guess I don’t have much of a choice. Sticking around is probably the safest option for now.”

The room fell into a momentary stillness, the air heavy with unspoken resolve. Myrrh’s usual lightheartedness seemed to linger just beneath the surface, but for now, she mirrored my apprehension. Feena, meanwhile, radiated a sense of quiet determination, a steadiness that made the chaos swirling around us feel—if only slightly—more manageable.

Agent Feena’s smile widened as she stood and walked gracefully to a nearby drawer. She opened it with a faint metallic click, pulling out a small, intricately designed box. Returning to us, she carefully lifted the lid, revealing two sleek, metallic silver rings that glinted under the room’s soft light.

“W-Whoa, they’re beautiful!” Myrrh’s eyes sparkled with delight, her voice barely above a whisper.

“These,” Agent Feena began, her tone professional, “are SOS signal rings issued to KAWAII agents. I’m lending them to you two for emergencies. Should you come into contact with Ismail Arondight or the Red Meteor Frame Unit, spin the ring clockwise twice, counterclockwise once, and then clockwise once more. That will transmit an SOS signal directly to WAIFU agents, who will rush to your location.”

Without hesitation, Myrrh and I each took a ring. I slid mine onto the ring finger of my left hand. The moment it settled in place, the ring adjusted itself with a smooth, cybernetic shift, molding perfectly to fit. My fascination with Xyraxis tech only grew—it never failed to amaze me how advanced even the smallest gadgets were here.

“Hey, Zaft,” Myrrh’s voice broke my thoughts.

“What now?” I grumbled, glancing at her. The sight stopped me in my tracks. Her cheeks were puffed out adorably, flushed with a rosy blush, and her eyes were half-lidded in a mix of sass and something… softer.

“A gentleman should always put a ring on a proper lady’s finger,” she said, her tone haughty, though there was a slight tremor in her voice that betrayed her bravado.

“I’m not your nanny! You can put that ring like a normal teenager! What are you, twelve?” I shot back, trying to shake off whatever strange atmosphere she was creating.

“Yes. Twelve out of ten.” She smirked, tossing her hair over her shoulder dramatically. “Now, hurry up and put a ring on my finger. You shouldn’t keep a beautiful lady like me waiting.” Her usual arrogance shone through, but then, with a quieter voice and a hint of vulnerability, she added, “Please.”

I sighed, a mix of exasperation and something unnameable settling in my chest. Carefully, I picked up the other ring and reached for her left hand. Her fingers trembled slightly as I slid the ring onto her ring finger. Like mine, it morphed seamlessly to fit, the glow of its adjustments casting a soft shimmer on her hand.

For a moment, the room felt too quiet. Myrrh’s gaze lingered on the ring, her usual smugness replaced by a gentle smile that sent my heart stumbling.

Was it just me, or did that feel like… a proposal?