Heading To The Next Facility

The entire apartment was silent, save for the soft noise from the air-conditioning, fans, and the sounds of the busy city outside.

The soft scent of waffles mixing with something warm and savory, plus the delicious aroma of rice, filled the air.

Dorian was in the kitchen, barefoot and still damp from the quick bath he had a few minutes ago.

He moved quietly, flipping waffles, scooping some rice into a plate, while stirring the sauce on the stove under low heat. His movements were slower and more focused than usual.

He kept catching himself reaching up to touch where the collar used to be, like a part of his body had gone missing, and who could blame him?

The small clock on the wall read 6:30 a.m., and right on cue, a soft creak came from the hallway. Dorian glanced over his shoulder, not pausing his stirring.

Rose stepped out, bleary-eyed, her red hair a mess, which somehow still made her look even more beautiful, and in the same oversized shirt she wore beneath her hoodie.

She blinked slowly, sniffing the air like a sleepy cat, then looked at the kitchen area.

"You're cooking?" she mumbled, rubbing her eye with the back of her wrist.

"I figured you'd be up soon," Dorian said, totally ignoring her question.

She said nothing, but shuffled toward the couch and flopped down, face-first into the cushion. Then her voice came, muffled.

"Please tell me it's not just waffles."

"I made rice for you."

"…Bless you."

He smirked and plated the food, then poured her some juice and brought everything over to the small table at the center of the living room.

"Come eat," he said gently.

Rose groaned dramatically but sat up and dragged herself to the ground. Her head was still tilted like gravity was working overtime, but her eyes sharpened once she saw him properly in the morning light.

She blinked, then blinked again to be sure she wasn't seeing things. Her eyes focused on his neck.

"…Wait," she said as she crawled to the center table.

Dorian paused mid-step, watching with raised brows. She reached up, grabbed his collar and pulled him down, then rubbed her fingers on his neck.

"Where's your collar?"

He didn't answer right away. He just smiled and sat across from her, then reached up instinctively, his fingers brushing the bare skin there.

"It's gone," he said simply.

"Gone?" she repeated. "What do you mean gone? Did you take it off?"

"It came off on its own."

Rose stared. "Are you serious?"

He nodded. "I was… sitting and doing a little brainstorming. I tried bringing out the tendrils again but failed, and when I touched the collar again, it snapped."

She leaned back slightly, still watching him. "That thing was locked tight, Dorian. Like, prison cell tight. I don't even think I could've cut it off if I tried."

"I know."

"But now it's just… snapped?"

He gave a slow shrug. "Maybe it was defective."

She gave him a flat look. "Now is not the time to be sarcastic."

"I'm not. I mean it. I don't know why it happened."

Rose didn't speak for a moment. Her eyes drifted down to her plate, then to the small spot on his neck where the collar used to sit, there was only a faint mark now.

Eventually, she looked up again. "Do you feel okay?"

"I feel… better," he said honestly. "Like I can finally move my neck without feeling like I'm being strangled."

Rose nodded. "That's good," she murmured. "Weird. But good."

They both dug into the food in silence for a while, enjoying the atmosphere. The smell of waffles, the sound of forks tapping plates, the hum of the appliances.

Then Rose looked up again, chewing thoughtfully.

"Just saying," she said, "if that thing suddenly explodes or starts floating in the middle of the night, I'm not having you touch it, and I won't hesitate to kick it out your window, okay?"

Dorian laughed softly. "Fair."

"Or if you suddenly turn evil or something."

"I think we've already passed that window."

"You do give off reformed villain energy sometimes."

"Waffles are part of my redemption arc. I doubt anything would make me turn evil." At least not yet. He wanted to add, but he would have her worrying again for no reason.

That got a tiny smile out of her. She shook her head and went back to her food, but her voice was softer now.

"…I'm glad it's off," she said quietly. "You never said anything, but I could tell it bothered you."

Dorian mirrored her smile, then he nodded. "I'm glad too."

The two didn't say anything afterwards, as the soft morning light filtered in through the windows. The scent of waffles still lingered strongly in the air.

Rose leaned over the table, lazily chewing, while Dorian devoured his food silently, and even had to get another plate.

She kept glancing at his neck, a little concerned about it, and whether it had side effects. She sipped her juice when her mind became overwhelmed with questions, and at that same moment, the door opened.

Dorian instinctively picked up his fork and moved it toward his wrist, but she placed her hand on his and shook her head.

"That's a good smell" Benson said, walking into the room.

His face was now in the light, wearing a smirk, his brown hair messier than Dorian expected. He slipped his hands out of his pockets and tossed his face cap on the couch beside Dorian.

The duo watched him walk over to the kitchen, where he spotted the remaining food. He plated some for himself, poured juice as well, and joined them at the table.

"You left this for me, right?" he asked, already sitting down.

"No," Dorian replied flatly.

Benson grinned. "Well, it doesn't seem like you'll eat it, so I'll take that as a yes."

He dug in, unfazed. Then Rose gave him a sleepy wave.

"Morning," she mumbled.

"Morning, princess," Benson said through a mouthful of waffle.

Dorian looked up. "Why are you here this early?"

"Because I have good news. The lab opened early today and everyone seems happy to meet you." He wiped his mouth with a napkin, then reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

He slid it across the table toward Dorian. "Address is there. Nothing serious. Just some basic stuff—observation, a few simple tests, maybe mild social interaction if you're lucky."

"Sounds thrilling," Dorian said dryly, putting a piece of the waffle into his mouth.

Benson pointed his fork at him. "Just don't let anyone take samples. No blood, no skin, no weird requests. Politely refuse, or glare at them until they get the message."

Rose raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Dorian shifted his gaze to her. He realized she didn't know, and he hadn't bothered to tell her because he assumed she must have had an idea about it since she worked there.

He quickly swallowed and spoke. "If they take samples, there's a chance they'll try to replicate the ability, probably by putting it in the body of a beast or a child and letting them awaken."

Benson nodded. "Kid's been doing his homework." He cleared his throat, took a sip of his juice, and leaned back. "Situations like that cause abnormal mutation, and no one can fix it. So it's either the subject is killed, or sent toward the rifts to join the other beasts."

Rose nodded slowly, still processing the information. She looked at the clock, then at Dorian who was still eating, then she got up.

"let me clean up real quick and change," she said, gave Dorian a little pat on the head out of habit, and exited the room.

Benson watched her till she was out of sight, then turned to Dorian.

"You should try to get along with the others, because you'll be going on missions and training together."

"There are others?" Dorian asked.

Benson shrugged. "Sort of. People like you. Not exactly the same, different abnormal awakenings and cases."

"Like what?"

"One entered the rifts and came out alive."