Corps Shaft

In the gentle embrace of dawn, sunlight poured over the city, casting its streets and buildings in a golden, angelic glow. A single blade of light pierced through a window, illuminating a pristine white bed. Keith lay there, his breaths even, as the warmth of the sun kissed his face. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open.

Keith bolted upright, a wave of confusion washing over him. Where am I? His mind raced as he took in his surroundings. The room was sleek and modern, its white walls and minimalistic decor exuding a calming, almost sterile ambiance. Yet the quiet tranquility only heightened his unease.

Rubbing his temple, Keith stumbled out of the bed and approached the door. Pushing it open, he stepped into a spacious living area bathed in soft morning light. His breath caught in his throat as his gaze landed on the scene before him.

Hank and Shiro sat casually on an immaculate white sofa, deep in conversation. In the nearby kitchen, Reana stood at the stove, humming softly as she cooked, her back turned. The scent of freshly prepared food lingered in the air, adding a surreal touch to the moment.

Keith froze, his mind reeling. Reana? Hank? Shiro? What the hell is going on?

Before he could voice his confusion, Shiro's gaze drifted lazily to him. A sly smile spread across Shiro's face as he leaned back, his posture relaxed yet commanding.

"Welcome home, little brother," Shiro said, his voice smooth and unhurried.

Keith could only stand there, paralyzed by a cocktail of disbelief, anger, and unease, as the room's calmness clashed violently with the storm brewing inside him.

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