What’s the Plan? Man

[ KYLA'S PLAN

1) Figure myself out—learn the tech, get my ID sorted. Is everything digital here?

2) Contact Willow— Does she have three husbands? Or did she divorce two times?

3) Decide what's next—do I join the military? How do I figure out my abilities?

4) Go on dates and find a husband—preferably one with muscles - Like P.

5) Stay away from Mother—nothing good ever comes from that.

6) Pretend to know everything, never answer anything—dodge all questions ]

"Wow, very specific," Gavin muttered, scanning her list. He snapped his fingers. "You should add university to that—you haven't graduated yet."

"Wait, I'm in uni?" Kyla blinked.

"Yeah. And they'll probably toss you into the abilities department that overlaps with military training." Gavin shrugged, lounging on her couch. "On second thought, actually—"

Before Kyla could process that, Kiloil slammed his own plan on the ground in front of them—a chaotic mix of scribbled notes, graffiti-style doodles, and poorly drawn rappers.

[ KILOIL'S PLAN

a) Help sis

b) Eat food—I'm starving

c) Get super fit, become a big, strong Alpha—protect Dad ]

"I'm an Alpha too, right?" Kiloil flexed his skinny arms like a competing body builder.

"Yeah," Gavin cringed at his antics, sniffing the air. "B-Grade. You're only half-awakened, though. I'll have to teach you how to half-shift properly."

"Wow, like when you tried to attack me?" Kiloil smirked.

Gavin shot him a glare.

Kyla tapped her pen against her chin. "Question—if Alphas can have multiple legal spouses, can't Omegas and Betas do the same?"

"No, they can't," Gavin replied.

"That makes no sense."

"Alphas are significantly stronger than Betas. Below S and A grade, in the same grade, it takes about eight Betas, or 12 Omegas, to take down one Alpha. And Omegas can only be marked once in their lifetime if they want to have children." Gavin leaned back. "Even at S-Grade and A-Grade, where Betas and Omegas can develop abilities, they're still weaker. An A-Grade Alpha can take down five A-Grade Betas or seven A-Grade Omegas in a fight. A university and government research center even did a whole study on it—read up if you're curious."

"Okay, to much info, nerd," Kiloil scoffed, lying on the floor and propping his feet up on the bed. "So why do Alphas get multiple spouses?"

"Because higher-grade Alphas produce stronger children," Gavin explained. "In short—"

"We're baby-making machines," Kyla deadpanned, grimacing.

Gavin affirmed with an incline of his head.

"Yuck," Kiloil groaned, sitting up on his knees and dramatically reaching for the sky. "I'm loyal to my idol. I love you, Seo Yuna!"

Kyla smacked the back of his head lightly.

"Hells, is there a target on the back of my head?" Kiloil mumbled as he tumbled onto the carpet, rolling around like a dog in a grass field.

Gavin watched him, breathing through his nose. "You're so weird, fish boy."

"Whatever, pussy," Kiloil retorted, sticking out his tongue.

"Language," Kyla admonished, glaring down at him as she folded their paper plans, walking over to place them in a conspicuous wooden jewelry box on her shelf.

She paused as she closed it. "Is Nana alive?"

She thought of her eccentric grandmother—always traveling the world, only communicating by letters every few months. Kyla never knew where Nana's money came from; she suspected the old lady was involved in some illegal activities. Who knows?

"Nana's still kicking—and she's pretty high up in the chains these days."

"What do you mean?" Kiloil questioned, curious about the grandmother they hadn't seen in person for five years on earth.

"She's a Strategic Commander..."

"And that's supposed to mean?" Kiloil pressed.

"She's, well—in game terms—a final boss," Gavin chuckled. "Read up on the military structure, Koi and Ky; you'll need to eventually, unless you want to offend the wrong person. Plus, you'll likely be transferred to the Capital with a university transfer. With your grade and abilities, a second-tier university won't give you the resources you need. Expect to be approached in the next couple of days, actually."

Gavin grabbed a brush from Kyla's bedside table and ran it through his untied hair. Then he added, "Nana's position is also why your dad was able to divorce safely—even though they haven't been in contact."

"How did Mum and Dad get together in this world?" Kiloil asked.

"Ask your father," Gavin shrugged. "Not my story."

Kyla opened her mouth to speak-

"We should eat food now," Kiloil announced, patting his rumbling stomach. "We can't plan world domination on empty stomach guys."

Gavin nodded, "The war should be finished out there, let's go and eat."

( ) ( ) ( ) ( ) ( )

"I just don't know, Debs," Deviloil grumbled, scrubbing the pan in the spacious, warmly lit kitchen with relentless force. The harsh clang of metal against porcelain echoed off the walls, competing with the low hum of an old, round refrigerator. Pots and pans were stacked precariously on a stained counter next to a sink brimming with soapy water, while a small radio played an old tune in the background.

The atmosphere was thick with tension.

Steam curled from a glass coffee pot as Deborah pressed a button to brew herself another cup of scorching tea—she liked her tea extremely hot.

Deviloil's agitation was palpable as he wiped his hands on a threadbare rag.

"Okay, Devy, let's take a deep breath," Deborah said softly, stepping forward and placing a hand on his shoulder. "You two separated ages ago—she has no say. You're the legal parent. She only has her opinion."

Deviloil's stone coloured eyes flashed as he tossed the rag back into the sink, splattering soapy water across the worn kitchen bench. "But she acts like she still has every say over Kyla and Koi!" His hands slammed against the counter, echoing his rising frustration. Tears streamed down his pale face. "She chose to leave me. I gave her my everything—I sacrificed my education, my future, for heaven's sake to support her. And what did I get? Concubine status after giving birth to two children and working my ass off? It's fucking laughable, how naive I was. She was running around behind my back, marrying men left and right—"

He paused as the sound of a closing door and soft footsteps echoed from down the hallway.

Straightening his clothes, Deviloil turned to his older sister. His mood shifted in an instant, and a tentative smile appeared as he wiped his face with the edge of his shirt. "Set the table, Deb's!"

Deborah returned a small smile as she gathered plates from the kitchen island and carried them through an open door onto the back veranda—a cozy eating area bathed in late afternoon light.

Gavin entered. "Need any help cooking, uncs?" he asked.

Deviloil walked over, pinching Gavin's cheeks. "No, darling, you can help your mother instead."

Gavin nodded, walking away.

"Dadddddd," Kiloil yelled, sprinting in to give his father a hard hug. His father yelped as Kiloil buried his head in his chest. "Daddy, I'm hungry! Is that hag finally gone?"

Deviloil pinched his cheek hard.

"Ow!" Kiloil whimpered.

"No bad language, son," Deviloil scolded, giving him a stern look as Kiloil rubbed his cheek like a sad puppy. "Go help your Aunt—I can't trust you in the kitchen."

"Sorry, Dad!" Kiloil skipped outside.

"Anything I can do?" Kyla offered, waltzing in and perching on the kitchen island.

Her father handed her a bag and a porcelain bowl rimmed in blue. "You can peel these nuts."

Kyla nodded and began peeling as she watched her father move to a bench to chop green vegetables.

"The monster limbs aren't coming through until tonight, darling," her father remarked.

"It's okay, Dad, I don't mind," Kyla replied, popping the peeled nuts into the blue-rimmed bowl. "I'm not super hungry anyway."

Her father frowned. "I can't let you starve, darling—you need your energy."

"Dad, it's fine!" Kyla said loudly, hopping down and walking over to him.

"Okay, okay," her father sighed, placing his knife down and pulling her into a hug, his head resting on hers since she was shorter. "I love you, Ky pie. Do you know that?"

"I do, Dad."

"Don't go to your mother's this weekend," he added taking a small step backwards, rubbing her shoulders as he looked down at her. "I don't know what she's planning, but it won't be good for us."

"Okay, Dad."

"Let's eat some food—you must be starving."

Kyla's stomach rumbled in response.

"Yeah, I kinda am."

Her father laughed, pinching her cheeks.

"Luckily I've made a lot of food."