Eggcellent Mystery

[A day later...]

"God fucking damn it!" I muttered under my breath. 

I saw the broken eggs lying on the floor. 

"NO! FUCK!" I shouted. 

I stared at the crime scene before me. The eggs I bought yesterday, are gone. Now the second dozen of eggs, wasted, right in front of me.

The eggs—my hard-earned, carefully transported, against-all-odds intact eggs—were now splatters of yolk and shattered shell on the goddamn floor.

I dialed Cecil's number. "Unc, where the fuck are you? Send the clean-up crew." 

Cecil picked up on the second ring. "Kid, if this is about the fight last night, we're already handling it—"

"Not that," I interrupted. "Bigger problem. Emergency situation."

There was a pause. "Bigger than a dimensional explosion?"

"Way bigger," I said grimly, staring at the devastation at my feet. "I need a clean-up crew. Immediately."

Cecil sighed. "What happened?"

I inhaled sharply. "The eggs, Unc."

Another pause. "What?"

"The eggs," I repeated. "They didn't make it."

Silence.

Then: "Are you fucking serious?"

"This is a tragedy, Unc." I ran a hand through my hair, grief settling in. "I fought through hordes of Mauler clones, got warped through dimensions, barely made it back in one piece—and this is how the universe repays me?" I gestured at the ruined eggs. "They were innocent."

Cecil let out a long, suffering sigh. "Kid, do you want me to send a government strike team to clean up your fucking groceries?"

"Yes."

"No."

"C'mon, man. Just a couple of guys in hazmat suits—"

"Goodbye, Kaito."

Click.

"FUCK YOU, UNC!" I shouted.

"Woah, why are you so mad? What happened?" Eve came into the kitchen. 

"The eggs, Eve. Are you blind?" I asked her.

"What about them? Just buy another dozen." She told me as she looked at the broken eggs.

"How about you buy them? Since you're so rich." I told her.

"You literally have millions." She told me.

"That's not the point!" I threw my hands up, pacing around the kitchen like a man on the edge. "This isn't about money, Eve. This is about principle. I fought for these eggs. I protected them. And in the end? They still ended up like—like this!" I gestured dramatically at the shattered remains on the floor.

Eve pinched the bridge of her nose. "Oh my God."

"You don't get it." I turned to her, eyes filled with the weight of a man who had lost too much. "I have been tested, Eve. The universe keeps putting me through trials, and every time, I come out the other side. But this? Twice in two days? This is a vendetta."

Mark peeked in from the hallway, munching on a protein bar. "Oh, did you drop your eggs again?"

I pointed at him. "You shut your mouth. Right now."

Mark snorted. "Dude, at this point, I think the eggs have beef with you."

"That's ridiculous."

Eve crossed her arms. "Is it? Because honestly, it does seem like something's out to get your eggs."

I stopped.

...Wait.

I narrowed my eyes. "You're saying… this isn't an accident?"

"I'm saying, maybe the universe really is fucking with you." Eve smirked. "Maybe the eggs are just collateral damage."

Mark chuckled. "Honestly, considering the kind of shit we deal with, I wouldn't be surprised if some cosmic force has it out for your breakfast."

I exhaled, nodding. "That would make more sense than me just being clumsy."

"Would it?" Eve asked.

"Yes." I rubbed my chin. "It means there's a plot against me."

Mark groaned. "Oh my god, here we go."

"No, listen! First, I get thrown into some interdimensional nightmare. Then Levy tells me I'm some kind of cosmic anomaly. And now—now, my eggs keep mysteriously dying under suspicious circumstances?" I pointed at the mess. "Something's going on, and I will get to the bottom of it."

Eve sighed. "Or you could just buy new eggs."

"That's what they want me to do."

Mark burst out laughing. "Bro, who is 'they'?"

I turned, looking out the window like I was in a crime thriller. "...I don't know yet."

Eve grabbed her jacket. "Okay. This has been great. You clearly need help. I'm going to go do literally anything else while you and your paranoia have a moment."

Mark slapped me on the back. "Just don't let it drive you crazy, man. It's just eggs."

I scoffed. "Spoken like someone who's never been betrayed by the universe."

As they left, I stood in my ruined kitchen, staring at the crime scene before me.

I clenched my fists.

No more.

Tomorrow—I buy one more dozen.

And this time?

I win.

"Stop making that face," Mark told me. 

"The hell you mean?" I asked him.

"The face that you make when you're plotting something."

"And how the hell would you know that it's the face that I make when I'm plotting something?"

Mark gave me a flat look. "Because every single time you do it, something stupid happens."

"Stupid?" I scoffed. "Stupid is losing twenty-four eggs in forty-eight hours under mysterious circumstances. Stupid is ignoring the very real possibility that someone—or something—is sabotaging me." I leaned in. "This is war, Mark. And shut the fuck up, you don't have rights. You're in my house."

Mark sighed. "Bro. It's eggs."

"Exactly. And I refuse to lose again." I straightened up. "Tomorrow, I take precautions. Tomorrow, I secure my assets. Tomorrow—"

Eve poked her head back in. "You're still talking about the eggs?"

"Leave me be, woman."

She rolled her eyes and left.

I turned back to Mark. "Tomorrow, I will win."

Mark stared at me for a long moment. Then, with a deep sigh, he said, "Fine. You want to be paranoid? I'll help."

I raised an eyebrow. "What's your angle?"

"My angle is that I don't want to hear you ranting about 'egg conspiracies' for the rest of my life."

"Fair." I nodded. "So, what's the plan?"

Mark sighed again as if he was already regretting his decision. "We do this your way. We set up surveillance. Motion sensors. Maybe a tripwire."

I grinned. "Now you're speaking my language."

"Of course I am. Because you're insane, and I've known you too long."

I clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Tomorrow, Mark... tomorrow we make history."

Tomorrow, the eggs survive.

"Enough of that, wanna go patrolling?" mark asked me. 

"Okay," I told him.

"...with the guardians."

I froze.

"The Guardians?" I repeated slowly.

Mark gave me a knowing smirk. "Yeah. You know, the guys with experience? Cecil wanted us to check in and run a patrol with them today."

I narrowed my eyes. "And he didn't tell me directly?"

"Probably because you threatened to call in a clean-up crew for your eggs."

"...That was a reasonable request."

"No, it wasn't."

"Whatever, I'm not coming. I have shit to do." I told him as I carefully cleaned up the mess.

Mark sighed dramatically, leaning against the counter as I wiped up the last of the yolk. "Come on, man. It's just one patrol. One little lap around the city with some professionals. Maybe they'll even give you pointers on how not to drop your groceries."

I shot him a glare. "I'm not going."

"Why?"

"Because I have more important things to do."

"Like what? Cry over eggs?"

I pointed the paper towel at him like a blade. "First of all, fuck you. Second, I need to investigate."

Mark groaned. "Oh my God."

"You don't understand, Mark. This is bigger than me."

"No, it's not."

"This could be a coordinated attack." I threw the paper towel in the trash, leaning on the counter. "Think about it. Why only my eggs? Why now? After everything I've been through?"

Mark rubbed his temples. "Dude, there's no egg conspiracy."

"Isn't there?" I narrowed my eyes.

Mark opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself. I could see the gears turning. A small crack of doubt forming. He wanted to dismiss me, but he knew weird shit happened to me all the time.

"...No. Nope. Not doing this," he said, shaking his head.

"You're already in too deep, Mark."

"I'm out. I'm so out." He turned towards the door.

I crossed my arms. "Guess I'll just have to investigate alone, then."

Mark stopped mid-step. His shoulders tensed. He exhaled, long and suffering. Then he turned back around.

"...If I help you figure this bullshit out, will you stop acting like a lunatic?"

I grinned. "No promises."

"Fine," Mark muttered. "One day. One stupid day of investigating your missing egg mystery, and then you come patrolling."

"Deal."

Mark groaned. "I hate that I just agreed to this."

"Welcome to the team, Detective Mark."

"Fuck you."

I clapped him on the back. "Tomorrow, we crack this case wide open."

Mark groaned louder. "You have to stop with the egg puns."

[Later that night...]

The city was quiet that night. Too quiet.

Rain pattered against the windowpane, each drop like the ticking of a clock counting down to my inevitable showdown with fate. I sat at the kitchen table, a single lamp casting long, dramatic shadows across the room. My fingers tapped rhythmically against a steaming cup of coffee—black, like my soul after losing two dozen eggs in as many days.

Mark sat across from me, arms crossed, looking like a man who regretted every decision that had led him here.

"So let me get this straight," he said, voice low and tired. "We're actually staking out your own kitchen?"

I nodded, slow and deliberate. "That's right."

He exhaled sharply. "Because you think someone—something—is out to get your eggs?"

Another nod.

Mark dragged a hand down his face. "Jesus Christ."

I leaned forward, voice a gravelly whisper. "The evidence is all there, Mark. Two dozen eggs. Gone. Two separate incidents, both under suspicious circumstances. Some would call it coincidence." I took a slow sip of coffee. "I call it a pattern."

Mark stared at me. "You call it a pattern?"

I nodded grimly.

"It's called being a dumbass."

I set my cup down, eyes narrowing. "You're not seeing the big picture."

Mark groaned and slumped back in his chair. "Man, it's gravity! You keep dropping your eggs!"

I shook my head. "No. The first time? Maybe. The second time? No way. I was careful, Mark. Too careful. And yet..." I gestured toward the now-sanitized crime scene on the floor. "Disaster struck again."

Mark sighed. "Okay, fine. Let's say—for the sake of my fucking sanity—that this isn't just you being clumsy. Who do you think is behind it?"

I tilted my head, considering the possibilities.

"Could be Cecil," I muttered.

Mark blinked. "Why the hell would Cecil sabotage your eggs?"

"Maybe he's testing me. Maybe it's some kind of psychological warfare." I rubbed my chin. "Keep me on edge. See how I react under pressure."

Mark gave me a long, flat stare. "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

"Is it?"

"Yes!"

I shrugged. "Fine. But what if it's something bigger? Some cosmic force trying to break me? We both know the universe has a vendetta against me."

Mark leaned back, rubbing his temples. "I swear to god, if you tell me the fucking Mauler Twins broke into your house just to destroy your eggs, I'm walking into traffic."

I scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. Traffic can't hurt you and the Maulers are brutes. They wouldn't have the finesse for something like this." I tapped the table, thinking. "No, this feels more... calculated. Precise. Someone wants me to know I'm being targeted."

Mark groaned. "I hate that you're making this sound like a goddamn noir mystery."

I didn't respond. Instead, I reached into my pocket, pulling out a cigarette. I didn't smoke. Never had. But it felt right. I put it between my lips, unlit, staring out the window like a man haunted by his past.

Mark watched me, eyes narrowing.

"...Where the fuck did you even get that?"

"Don't worry about it."

"You don't even smoke."

"Shut up, Mark."

I coughed. 

Mark rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

I glared at him, yanking the cigarette from my lips and crushing it in my palm for dramatic effect. Was it necessary? No. Did it add to the scene? Absolutely.

"Look," I said, voice low. "We have to take this seriously. If we let our guard down for even a second, the next dozen is doomed."

Mark snorted. "You're acting like we're about to storm an enemy hideout."

I nodded grimly. "We might as well be."

Before Mark could argue, the kitchen light flickered.

We both froze.

Slowly, I turned my head toward the bulb. It flickered again.

Then, the air got colder.

The rain outside picked up, slamming against the windows like the fists of a desperate man begging to be let in.

Mark sat up straight. "...Okay, what the fuck was that?"

I didn't answer. I was already on my feet, instincts kicking in. Years of battle, of war, of surviving against all odds told me that this was no accident.

Something was here.

And then—

CRACK.

The sound came from behind us.

We spun around.

There, on the counter, lay an egg. A single, solitary egg.

And it had just cracked.

No one had touched it.

No one had even been near it.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

"I didn't even buy an egg after that last dozen. You see this shit, Mark? Now you believe me?"

Mark stared at the cracked egg like it had just insulted his mother. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. Finally, he exhaled through his nose like a man who had just accepted his own impending insanity.

"Okay," he said slowly. "Okay. What the actual fuck?"

I crossed my arms. "Told you."

Mark ran a hand through his hair. "No. No, no, no. See, this? This is where I draw the line. Eggs don't just appear out of nowhere. That wasn't there before."

"Exactly," I said. "Which means—"

"Don't," Mark warned.

"—it was placed there," I continued anyway.

"Goddamn it."

I approached the counter cautiously like the egg was a live bomb. I squatted to eye level with it, studying its cracked shell. "This was a message."

Mark threw his hands up. "A message? A message? From who?"

I looked at him, dead serious. "That's what we need to find out."

Mark looked around as if hoping someone else would appear to tell him this was all a dream. When no such savior arrived, he groaned. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but… what do we do now, Sherlock?"

I exhaled. "First, we check the cameras."

"...We don't have cameras."

I blinked.

"...Shit."

Mark facepalmed. "You just said we needed surveillance, and you didn't even set it up?"

I straightened up, clearing my throat. "I was... preparing. Gathering intel. Strategizing."

"You forgot, didn't you?"

"That's not the point, Mark."

Mark groaned again, louder this time. "Okay. Whatever. Let's break this down. If you didn't buy more eggs, and I sure as hell didn't put that there, then someone else had to, right?"

"Correct."

"So that means someone broke into your house just to put a single egg on the counter and crack it."

I nodded. "That's the working theory. I have my suspicions on Eve and she's living right in this house."

Mark pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you even hear how stupid that sounds?"

I pointed at the egg. "And yet, there it is."

Mark opened his mouth to argue. Then he stopped. Then he looked at the egg again.

And then, very, very slowly, he frowned. "...Wait a second."

I narrowed my eyes. "What?"

"Look at the crack."

I leaned in. It was an ordinary break, jagged, yolk oozing slightly from the side. "Yeah, and?"

Mark's frown deepened. "That's not from being dropped. That's... different."

My stomach tightened. "...What are you saying?"

Mark hesitated. Then, quietly, he muttered, "It cracked from the inside."

Silence.

The air felt heavier. The rain outside seemed louder.

I met Mark's gaze. "You mean—"

"Something came out of it," Mark whispered.

We both slowly, slowly turned to scan the room.

The kitchen was still. The air, unmoving. But suddenly, it didn't feel empty anymore.

Mark swallowed. "...You check the left. I check the right?"

I nodded.

We both turned at the same time.

And that's when we heard it.

A faint, wet plop.

I looked into the shadows, a purple furry creature.

There, sitting in the middle of the floor, was a tiny, round, purple creature.

It was about the size of a grapefruit, covered in soft, slightly damp fur. Its tiny, stubby limbs wiggled as it tried to get its footing. Two large, glowing blue eyes blinked up at me with an innocent curiosity, and a pair of little antennae twitched on its head like it was sniffing the air.

Then, it let out a soft, high-pitched chirp.

I froze.

Mark froze.

The thing blinked again, then let out another chirp—this time, sounding vaguely like... a question? 

"What the fuck, Mark? A chicken? An alien fucking chicken?"

Mark stared at the tiny creature, his expression torn between horror and sheer disbelief. He slowly turned his head to me, then back to the... thing.

"...That ain't a chicken, bro."

The creature tilted its head, making a tiny trilling sound, its antennae twitching.

I took a step back, pointing at it. "Okay. Alright. Let's go over the facts, Mark. One: I did not buy more eggs."

"Yup."

"Two: We literally just watched that egg appear out of nowhere and then crack open."

"Uh-huh."

"Three: That came out of it."

Mark exhaled. "Sure did."

The thing blinked again, then wiggled its tiny arms. It looked like it was trying to figure out how limbs worked.

Mark clapped his hands together. "Okay. So. New question: What the actual fuck do we do with it?"

I opened my mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. "I... don't fucking know."

The creature let out another chirp and took a wobbly step forward. Its little feet made the faintest squelch sound against the floor. It looked up at me.

Mark and I instinctively took another step back.

"...Okay," Mark said carefully. "Maybe we should call Cecil."

I grimaced. "We could... but if I call him and tell him an interdimensional furball hatched in my kitchen, he's gonna ask how, and then I have to explain that I was staking out my eggs."

Mark groaned. "You were staking out your eggs, dumbass."

"Yeah, but when I say it out loud, it sounds crazy."

"Because it is crazy!"

The creature trilled again, this time louder. It wobbled closer, blinking its big glowing eyes. It didn't seem threatening—if anything, it looked... happy to see us.

Mark eyed it. "You think it's dangerous?"

I squinted. "I don't know, man. It's small. Fluffy. Kinda cute."

"Yeah, well, so are a lot of things that can kill you."

The thing chirped again, this time even more excitedly. Then, before either of us could react, it launched itself forward.

"FUCK!" I yelped, stumbling back.

The creature clung to my shirt with its tiny, sticky fingers. Its antennae twitched, and then—it purred.

Mark watched in silence as the tiny alien snuggled against me, letting out a sound eerily close to a contented cat.

I looked at Mark.

Mark looked at me.

"Who the hell put this here?" We both asked simultaneously.

———————————————————

[A/N: I went for a light-hearted approach for the introduction of this little dude, read the the next chapter of Invincible: Lawbreaker to find out the mystery being who put him there.]