Chapter 18 — Quiet Kitchens, Louder Lies
Super Guardian
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The kitchen was dimly lit, but warm. A little pocket of peace inside a crumbling apartment barely holding itself together.
Laura moved between the chipped counter and the dented stove, quietly throwing together something simple — a couple of eggs, old bread turned into toast, some diced root vegetables that looked like they'd been grown on a budget and forgotten in the fridge. It wasn't much. But it smelled like home.
Zack sat at the table, arms folded over the surface, watching her work.
His body still ached. His skin felt like one big bruise wrapped in clothes. But here, with her humming some off-tune melody and pretending life wasn't trying to drown them — the pain blurred into the background.
"You ever think you could be a five-star chef?" he asked, a weak grin forming on his face.
Laura scoffed. "Yeah, totally. Michelin-star fry-ups with expired eggs and broken dreams."
He chuckled. Even that hurt.
"Don't knock it. This might be the best meal I've had all week."
"That says more about your life than my cooking," she muttered, setting down two chipped plates. "Eat."
He did. They both did. Forks scraped ceramic. The food wasn't amazing, but it was warm. Filling. Familiar.
A long pause passed before she glanced up at him.
"So… the bruises."
Zack blinked mid-bite. "What about them?"
"You came home looking like a training dummy again."
He hesitated.
Then shrugged, reaching for the lie he'd already decided on. "Got them fighting a spirit beast yesterday. A... uh, fast one. Real nasty."
Laura raised an eyebrow.
Zack didn't flinch.
She said nothing, just sipped her water. But she knew.
She always knew.
Still, she didn't push. The silence wrapped around them like a thin blanket — full of holes, but better than nothing.
They talked a little more after that. About school. About neighbors. About the latest ridiculous rent notices from the landlord taped to the building door. Zack cracked a joke about their toilet having more personality than half the district. Laura snorted soda through her nose.
Just for a while, they were siblings again.
Then the night pulled its curtains shut.
And the weight of reality quietly returned.
Morning came too soon.
It always did.
The sun barely managed to crawl through the dirty blinds, casting pale light across the room. Zack groaned as he rolled out of bed. Every joint screamed. Every bruise whispered reminders of yesterday's violence — both in school and that alleyway.
But this was life. His life.
He didn't complain. Just got dressed in silence.
Down the hall, Laura was already awake. She'd tied her hair up, her jacket slung over one shoulder, and a datapad in the other hand as she tapped out some job-related messages.
"Heading to the Domain today?" he asked, pulling on his worn boots.
She nodded without looking up. "Early shift. They need extra hands with the excavation team."
"Be careful."
Laura finally glanced at him, one side of her lips curling into a smile. "I always am. You be careful too."
Zack gave a noncommittal grunt.
They stepped out together. The hallway outside their apartment reeked of mold and old fire damage, but at least it wasn't raining acid today.
On the stairs, they parted ways. She went left. He went right.
But before turning the corner, Laura called out softly, "Zack."
He turned.
"Don't let the world break you, okay?"
He didn't answer. Not out loud. Just gave a nod.
Because if he opened his mouth right now, he wasn't sure what might come out.
---
The bus stop wasn't far, but each step felt heavier than the last.
Zack moved like a machine stuck between sleep and survival. He blinked the system interface open in his mind, more out of habit than hope.
A familiar screen greeted him:
[Daily Quest Active]
• 100 Push-Ups: Incomplete
• 100 Sit-Ups: Incomplete
• 3KM Run: Incomplete
Reward: [1 Mod Point]
Penalty for Failure: [Unknown]
Zack narrowed his eyes.
Still no details on the punishment. Just a vague, silent threat hanging over him. He'd already failed once — the day Miss Aimee beat him in front of the class. He hadn't stuck around long enough to find out what the system would do to him afterward.
But he would find out eventually. That was the scary part.
"What if it's permanent?" he muttered. "Or painful... or worse."
A cold breeze hit him as he reached the bus station. The hover-bus hissed to a stop in front of him, doors folding open with a tired groan. Students filed in like cattle. None spared him a glance — except the occasional smirk or snort from the ones who already knew him as "the punching bag."
As Zack stepped inside, someone stuck out a leg.
His foot caught.
He stumbled.
Laughter behind him.
He didn't turn. Didn't react.
He just gritted his teeth, stood up, and walked down the aisle.
There were no friendly faces. No space where he was wanted.
But there was a seat. Half-split, patched with tape, and smelling faintly of vomit — but it was empty.
Zack sat, rested his head against the window, and stared out at the dead skyline of low-income towers and rusted neon signs.
"Three kilometers," he whispered. "After school. No matter what."
If the system wanted punishment for failure…
Then he better not fail.
The ride to school was long.
Longer, when your bones ached.
Zack didn't say a word. He didn't need to. The looks, the muttered comments, the sneers from across the aisle — they filled the silence better than any words could.
He kept his eyes outside the window. Watched the crumbling blocks of stone and metal pass by, watched kids with better uniforms step off at richer districts. Watched a cyber cop sweep down from above, tailing someone on a scooter. Watched a group of noble kids laugh in the middle of the street, completely stopping traffic, just because they could.
Planet Hombre might have been part of the Alliance…
But it was barely more than dust compared to the planets humanity had conquered since discovering the Holy Domain.
Here, the rules were simple.
Power ruled. Weakness was permission.
If you couldn't fight, you were stepped on.
Zack had learned that early.
The system pinged again in the back of his mind, subtle and silent — reminding him of the quests he hadn't started. Of the price if he didn't complete them.
His head leaned against the window. The cold glass did little to numb the thoughts.
He remembered last night. Laura's smile. The way her hands moved while cooking something that barely passed as food. The warmth of having someone to eat with, even if she ignored the obvious bruises on his arms.
Even if she knew the truth but chose silence.
Zack had lied.
He'd said the bruises came from fighting a spirit beast.
Not Moses. Not those damn alley thugs. Not the system that pushed him harder with every passing day.
Spirit beast.
It was easier to say that. Cleaner.
Laura didn't believe him — not fully. He saw it in her eyes. But she played along. They both did. Because it hurt less than speaking truth.
He closed his eyes now, face still pressed to the vibrating window of the hover-bus.
He just needed to survive the day.
Then the next.
Then maybe the weekend would finally come — and with it, a chance to enter the Domain.
A chance to wear that armor again. To feel like he was something more than just... this.
Weak.
Hungry.
Afraid.
The bus hissed as it came to a halt. The school gates loomed ahead.
Zack opened his eyes, took a breath, and stepped out.