I had barely managed to peel myself out of the emotional wreckage that was SALVO, and now here I was — navigating the second boss battle of the morning: breakfast with Alba.
The moment I stepped into the sun-drenched dining room, I was hit with the smell of something... healthy.
Suspiciously healthy. No eggs swimming in cheese. No overly buttered bread. No fried sausages with attitude.
Just a single bowl of steaming green soup.
I stared at it like it had personally offended me.
Alba, who stood dutifully by the cart, smiled sweetly — too sweetly. The kind of sweet that told you someone knew something they absolutely shouldn't.
"Good morning, sir," she chirped, pulling out my chair. "Please have a seat."
I sat. Slowly. Warily.
"...Soup?" I said, peering into the murky swirl of what looked like spinach, betrayal, and possibly regret.