Caught.

"You're lucky I like you," Cedrik said, pointing the wrench at Enor like a weapon. "Because I literally swore I'd kill anyone who touched that last cereal bar."

Enor raised her hands in surrender. "Don't blame me! Ar snapped it in half and stuffed the rest in my mouth before I even agreed."

Ar smirked, sprawled across a sagging couch cushion. "I knew you wouldn't yell at her, so I made her my accomplice."

Cedrik narrowed his eyes. "Cowards. Both of you."

"Strategists," Ar corrected.

It had been a full day since yesterday's kitchen conversation, heavy things said, heavier ones left unsaid. After the chaos from Enor's flare, school had basically hit pause. They gave everyone a break to recover and fix whatever got shorted out. Not that the trio cared, but hey, it still counted.

Grandpa wasn't home, and before leaving, he had given strict instructions:

"Lay low. Don't leave the house. And Cedrik, fix the damn relay scanner."

So here they were, huddled in the basement everyone called the Crypt.

Cedrik sat cross-legged on the floor, grumbling over some sparking gadget he was definitely pretending to understand. A mess of wires spilled across the floor like spaghetti, most of it half-burned or half-functional.

Enor sat nearby on a folded blanket, nursing a cracked mug filled with what tasted vaguely like tea. She took a slow sip.

"What's that thing even supposed to do?" she asked.

"No clue," Cedrik said flatly. "Grandpa said 'recalibrate the relay scanner' like that means anything. I think it just buzzes."

"It smells like melted batteries," Ar offered.

"Yeah? Well, you smell like disappointment," Cedrik shot back.

"Ooof," Enor winced, grinning. "That's cold."

Ar raised a brow, unfazed. "Harsh words from a guy who's been fighting wires for two hours and still hasn't found the on switch."

Cedrik held up a random circuit board like it proved something. "It's calibrating, okay? This stuff is delicate."

"Sure," Ar said. "So delicate it started smoking."

"I hope it smokes you next," Cedrik muttered.

Enor stretched her legs, head tilting toward Cedrik.

"Okay, but seriously, how are you even good at this stuff? You're always fixing things, cooking, dragging Ar around, and with school on top of it? You must be some kind of time-management god."

Cedrik snorted. "I don't go to school."

She blinked. "Wait, what? Since when?"

"I've always been homeschooled," he said, still fiddling with the wires. "Grandpa said I'd either get suspended in a week or take over the school in a month. Didn't want to risk either."

Ar let out a quiet laugh. Cedrik pointed his screwdriver at him.

"Don't laugh. You're not exactly Mr. Social."

Enor raised a brow. "Wait, Ar does go to school though. I've seen him. You don't. I used to think maybe you were from a different school or something, but I guess that's kinda dumb."

Cedrik shrugged. "Not dumb. Logical guess, honestly."

Enor turned to Ar. "Then why aren't you homeschooled too? You guys live together, right?"

Ar gave a light shrug, just a little too casual. "Grandpa says I need to learn how to survive around idiots."

Cedrik snorted again. "Character building."

Then Enor tilted her head. "By the way, aren't you both cousins?"

Cedrik and Ar exchanged a quick glance, barely a second but enough to signal something unspoken.

Ar, unfazed, raised an eyebrow. "Do we look like cousins?"

Enor smirked. "I mean, same intense eyes, same 'grumpy with messy hair' vibe, you kinda do."

"Yeah, I think we do," Cedrik grinned, elbowing Ar. "I got the height and charm though. He only has the dramatic silence."

Then he wiped his hands on his shirt, still smiling. "But nope. Not blood. Just housemates."

Enor frowned. "Housemates?"

"Yeah," Cedrik said. "I used to live alone with Grandpa, but then Ar showed up. So we kinda became family."

Ar shrugged. "Unofficially adopted, I guess."

Enor nodded slowly, processing. "Okay, I think I understand."

NAH I DON'T THAT WAS A REAL SHITTY AHH EXPLANATION

She side-eyed them, thoughts drifting. Well, if Grandpa's the only one raising them, maybe neither of them has parents.

Cedrik cut her off before she could ask.

"And guess what," he said, grinning ear to ear, shooting a mischievous glance at Ar, "this guy can't even sleep alone."

Ar jolted upright, ears flushing.

"SHUT IT."

"No, no, this needs to be said," Cedrik said proudly, gesturing like he was unveiling a statue. "Once upon a time, Grandpa tried giving him his own room. Independence and all that. Ar lasted one night before dragging his blanket into my room like a haunted Victorian child."

"That was years ago!" Ar snapped.

"Details," Cedrik waved off. "And you still cling to me, so no difference." He sighed. "At least Enor's using that poor, lonely room now."

Enor blinked, lowering her mug. "Wait, the room I'm sleeping in?"

"Yup," Cedrik said, smug. "That was his. Grandpa set it up all nice, hoping he'd settle in. But Ar's big 'independent streak' didn't survive a night. Total failure. Now it's just a sad, rejected room."

Enor looked between them, piecing it together.

"Huh. No wonder the room feels barely touched. Kind of cold, too."

Cedrik nodded solemnly. "Because it is. Emotionally abandoned."

Ar's usual unbothered look went back firmly into place, but something in it had clearly cracked. A kind of lingering embarrassment and hopelessness now, like he'd officially given up trying to defend his pride. He crossed his arms and sank deeper into the couch in silence.

BZZT.

The relay scanner flickered, crackling and humming to life.

Cedrik froze, eyes wide. "No way," he whispered. Then louder, "No freakin' way!"

He shot up with both hands in the air. "It works! I made it work! I'm officially smarter than the old man!"

He pointed at Ar with a wild grin. "You doubted me. You mocked me. And yet, behold functionality!"

"He told you to fix it because he didn't have time," Ar said, deadpan. "Not because he couldn't."

Cedrik deflated. "Still counts."

A knock echoed upstairs. They froze.

"Guess he's back," Cedrik muttered, brushing his hands on his pants before heading up.

They climbed out of the Crypt, footsteps light across the creaky wooden floor.

Cedrik reached the front door first. He pulled it open.

"Snacks," the Grandpa said simply, handing him a bag without even stepping in yet.

He took the bag with reverence, like it was holy treasure. "You're the best," he said, already peeking inside.

Ar stepped in smoothly, nudged him aside, and reached into the bag like it was routine. He pulled out a pack of cheese-flavored chips, Enor's favorite, and handed it to her without a word, then grabbed a sour one for himself.

She blinked, surprised, then smirked. "Memorizing my preferences. Interesting."

Ar didn't answer. He just shrugged, already sinking back onto the couch like nothing happened.

Grandpa stepped in and kicked the door shut behind him. "You three still getting along?" he asked, brushing some dust off his jacket.

Cedrik threw himself back down. "Always."

The old man sat down on a couch, running on the TV before glancing at Enor. "Feeling anything strange today? Anything different working?"

She shook her head. "Nothing weird. Everything's just normal."

"Good," he said with a nod. "We'll run a few more tests later today. Just to be sure."

After a while, Grandpa spoke without looking away from the screen. "So, relay scanner."

Cedrik groaned. "You knew I'd bring it back up eventually, didn't you?"

Grandpa gave him a lazy smile. "That thing's been dead for months. Didn't expect you to actually pull it off."

"Well," Cedrik said, dramatically brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder, "it buzzed. It blinked. It hummed. I declare that functioning."

"Anything catch fire?"

"Not recently."

Grandpa chuckled. "That's an upgrade then."

Ar tossed a chip into his mouth and mumbled, "He celebrated like he discovered time travel."

"I earned that celebration," Cedrik shot back. "And it was a very dignified moment, thank you."

Grandpa laughed again, deep and warm. The kind of sound that settled in the room like a blanket. "Good work, Ced. Really."

The compliment made Cedrik's grin go crooked and a little less performative.

Ar then spoke up, drifting to another topic. "By the way, how's the city? Anything unusual after the protests?"

The grandfather didn't look away from the screen. "The Academy locked things down pretty fast. People are already back to pretending nothing has happened. Still, those Marked kids running wild in the streets, they're doing a decent job keeping the peace disturbed lately."

Ar nodded slightly, catching a flicker across the grandpa's face. Just a small, restless look as he glanced their way. It vanished quickly, replaced by his usual calm, but it was enough.

He threw a short glance at Cedrik and Enor, then asked quietly, as if trying to gauge a reaction, "Last time during the broadcast, the Academy said they're closing in on people helping the Marked. Do you think they meant it?"

Grandpa didn't answer right away. He stared at him silently for a moment, then sighed, eyes back on the screen. "I wonder too," he said finally.

Enor didn't pay them attention at first, but now she's listening, her old thoughts surfacing again.

What if the Academy finds out they had taken her in?

What would happen to them? To Cedrik, to Ar, to Grandpa, to this little peace they offered her...

What else would she have to endure if she gets dragged into the Academy again?

Especially that now, it turned she's not just a Marked girl, but something rarer: an anomaly with a broken core that somehow still worked.

A slow chill crawled up her spine as she remembered Varin's words:

Anomalies must be caged, and studied.

She stared quietly at the dim screen across the room, not really seeing it.

Whatever this peace was, it wasn't going to last. All she could hope was that no one else would be dragged down with her.

Beep. Beep-beep. Beep. Beep-beep-beep.

A strange patterned sound echoed softly from somewhere in the walls, snapping her back from her thoughts.

Cedrik froze mid-sentence. His head snapped toward the ceiling. "What?"

Beep. Beep-beep. Beep. Beep. Beep-beep.

Ar's eyes narrowed. He didn't move, but his whole body went still.

-.-. .- ..- --. .... -

Morse.

Cedrik squinted, lips moving in silent translation.

A long beat.

Then, out loud, voice caught halfway between question and disbelief:

"Caught?"

That's when Grandpa moved.

He bolted from his chair like he'd been shot, shoving aside tools, the stool, everything. In two strides, he was out of the room, boots pounding toward the sealed basement lab.

"Grandpa?!" Cedrik called, already jumping up to follow. "What does that mean? What's caught?"

But the old man was gone, swallowed already by the hallway.

In their wake, silence.

Ar didn't follow.

Instead, he walked to the nearest light switch and flicked it off. One by one, the soft glows died, plunging the room into a dim wash of shadows. Only the blue flicker of the relay scanner's idle screen remained, blinking like a tired eye.

Then, without a word, he moved to the window.

He pulled the curtain aside just enough to peer through the glass, eyes scanning the empty streets behind the house.

Enor stood frozen, uncertain, heart thudding louder with every breath.

Ar didn't look at her. He just kept watching the darkness, voice quiet but razor clear:

"Enor. Join Ced. Tell him we might need to pack. Fast."

The chill deepened. No explanation needed.

Something was coming.

And it was close.