The smoke thickened as they neared the hallway's bend, curling in lazy, gray tendrils that clung stubbornly to the ceiling. It wasn't overwhelming yet, but the acrid scent, sharp and biting, prickled at Enor's nose. She pulled her sleeve over her mouth instinctively.
Cedrik muttered under his breath, voice low and tense. "If that idiot set the stove on fire again..."
They rounded the corner together, and sure enough, there stood Ar in the kitchen.
A blackened skillet rested in his hands, a smudge of soot darkening the edge.
He waved a towel frantically at the smoke alarm, which remained silent, almost mocking in its apathy.
Cedrik's voice cracked with frustration as he stormed forward.
"Seriously? Again, Ar? How many times do I have to tell you this is my kitchen domain!"
Ar didn't flinch.
His expression was unreadable as he set the pan down carefully on a cold burner.
The metal hissed faintly, releasing a last breath of heat as it cooled. His hands trembled just slightly, betraying a nervous energy beneath his calm.
"It was under control," he said, voice low, almost apologetic.
"Under control? That pan looks like it survived atmospheric reentry." Cedrik's eyebrows knitted tightly. "You're lucky you didn't blow us all up."
Enor stepped in cautiously, rubbing the back of her neck as the smell of burnt oil clung thickly to the air. Her eyes caught a plastic package labeled noodles, still unopened on the counter. Nothing else seemed disturbed, but the mess of smoke whispered of a close call.
Cedrik ran his hands through his hair in exasperation, the sound rough and ragged. "I've told you: no touching the knives, no stoves, no spices. You don't even look at the olive oil without me hovering."
Ar's lips quirked in the faintest smile. "I didn't touch the olive oil."
"Congratulations," Cedrik said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Small victories."
Enor bit back a laugh, shaking her head. Seeing Cedrik, apron half-tied, socks slipping on the smooth floor, voice cracking between sternness and care, was oddly comforting. This chaotic domesticity felt grounding.
It was far from the sterile, clinical quiet of the lab.
"Wait," she said, raising a brow. "You're the family chef?"
Cedrik threw her a long, proud look, as if daring her to question his skills.
"Yes. Because I don't boil water into smoke."
Ar leaned against the counter, fingers tapping a restless rhythm on the cold tile.
Enor caught the subtle twitching, that nervous, barely contained energy, as if his body craved movement but his mind remained tangled and still.
It was a familiar tension, one she recognized all too well.
"I can clean it up," Ar said quietly, gaze avoiding theirs.
Cedrik muttered something darkly amusing under his breath but waved a hand.
"No, no. I'll handle it. Just... next time, if you're bored, go spar with a wall or something. Not the cookware."
Ar stepped back, letting Cedrik move in with practiced motions.
He scrubbed the skillet with a sponge until steam rose in soft curls from the sink.
The burnt smell began to fade, replaced slowly by the fresh scent of rinsed metal.
"Burnt rice fused to stainless steel... that's just evil." He grumbled.
He put the skillet aside, then grabbed a fresh onion and bell pepper. The sharp snap of his knife slicing through the vegetables echoed crisply, a steady rhythm cutting through the lingering tension.
Enor shifted, moving closer to the counter. Ar hovered nearby, fingers still twitching, eyes flicking to Cedrik's confident steady movements. A quiet moment settled over them.
Finally, Ar cleared his throat. "So," he said quietly, voice low and serious, "After the scan, what did y'all find out? Anything new?"
Enor's gaze dropped to the faint glow of the regulator pulsing softly at her collarbone.
Her heart thumped unevenly, memory pressing heavy. "Turned out I have a fractured core. Or something like that. I don't really remember the exact details."
Ar blinked, then straightened. His brow furrowed deeply. "Fractured? That makes no sense. You're standing here, alive and breathing."
"Well, he said most cores this damaged don't hold. So I'm apparently an exception."
Ar's jaw tightened, fingers curling into a loose fist at his side. "Okay, fractured core, got it. But did he say anything about how your powers came back in the first place?"
"No." Her voice dropped low, almost a whisper. "He ran every diagnostic he could think of, but there's no record of what triggered the reawakening. It's like it just happened."
"So he's as clueless as the rest of us." Ar sighed clearly disappointed.
"Pretty much," she admitted. "He mentioned that dormant cores can reactivate on their own sometimes. But nothing like this. Not with a core this damaged. No data no precedent."
Cedrik flipped something sizzling in the pan behind them. The smell of actual cooking food replaced the acrid burnt tang bit by bit. The sharp rhythm of his knife chopping vegetables punctuated the tense silence.
Ar tilted his head a little, watching her.
"And how do you feel about that?"
She hesitated.
"About...?"
"The fact that you're a walking anomaly."
She looked at him, unsure what to say at first. The words sat there, stuck in her chest, until they finally came out, soft and unsure.
"I don't know. It's... scary. The fact that my core shouldn't even be working. That I shouldn't still be here."
Her fingers tapped the counter without thinking.
"But when I felt it again, even just for a second... it didn't feel wrong. It didn't feel dangerous either.
It felt like something I got back. Something I thought I lost for good."
Ar didn't speak, just nodded slightly, waiting.
She drew in a slow breath. Her voice lowered.
"I used to think being powerless was a good thing. That it kept me safe... Kept me off the Academy's radar.
I thought I could live a quiet life if I just stayed small enough. I told myself that was enough. That I should be grateful."
Her eyes dropped.
"But the truth is... I wasn't okay. I wasn't living.
I thought the marked were already at the bottom of the world. But somehow... Now i realised I was even lower than that."
"So u think your situation now is better?" Ar asked with a hint of caution .
She looked up at him, jaw tightening. "Now, even if my core is broken, even if I barely feel it, part of me wants it back. Not for revenge. Just to choose something. To not always be the one being dragged."
Ar exhaled slowly, folding his arms across his chest. "You know it's not that easy. You think having power means you get to choose? Most of the marked don't. Not really. You either survive on your own, running, hiding, or you end up leashed. Like the rest of them."
There was no judgment in his voice. Only weight.
Enor's eyes flashed with quiet fire. "Ar, if this power didn't have the ability to change things, really change them, they wouldn't fear it so much. They wouldn't have built entire systems just to cage us."
He didn't interrupt. His silence said enough.
"We keep running because we're taught that's all we can do," she said more firmly. "But what if we stopped? What if we remembered why they were scared of us to begin with?"
Ar's expression stayed guarded, but his eyes softened, betraying something deeper beneath the stoicism.
Behind them, Cedrik chopped a little louder than necessary. The sharper rhythm broke the silence like a deliberate drumbeat, forcing space for the conversation to breathe.
Enor's voice softened slightly. "I'm not saying I'm ready. Or that I even know what I'm doing. I'm still scared. But maybe this isn't just a random spark. Maybe it's a second chance. And I don't want to waste it."
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then Cedrik's tone dropped, steady and serious.
"Listen, Enor... Wanting this power back isn't just about choice or control. It's about what they'll do when they realize you have it.
They won't just try to cage you again. They'll come for everything you care about. And if you're not ready for that... it'll destroy you."
He locked eyes with both of them, his voice barely above a whisper.
"This isn't just about surviving anymore. It's about deciding what kind of future you're willing to fight for. Because once they know, there's no turning back."
Enor stayed quiet for a moment, then spoke softly.
"I know what they can do. But I've also seen what we can do."
"What are you talking about?" Ar asked, curious.
She looked down at her hands, voice low and a little sheepish.
"I never talked about this to anyone but there was this one time..."
"I saw a marked once out there in the city. Soldiers were chasing him, real academy gear, guns, the whole thing. But he didn't run."
She fidgeted with her sleeve, eyes drifting away like she was replaying the scene in her mind.
"He moved like he owned the place. Not fast and noisy like you'd expect but smooth like every step was planned. And the energy around him wasn't wild or crazy. It kind of glowed softly, you know? Like it was part of him, controlled."
Her voice dropped to almost a whisper, a little breathless.
"He fought seven of them. Seven. Knocked them all down one by one. And he wasn't hiding or scared or anything. Just calm like he knew exactly what he was doing."
She paused then added quietly,
"Back then, I was powerless. I could barely stand up to a push let alone fight. Even now with my core cracked and barely working I know I'm still a few steps behind any average marked. But at least now I'm not just a bystander. Not entirely."
Enor gave a small almost shy smile.
"I know it sounds stupid. I mean here I am, barely holding onto my core and then there's him, like some legend walking the streets."
The room quieted again.
Enor leaned on the counter, voice soft.
"I don't know what comes next. But I think I want to stop watching from the sidelines."
When she looked up, Ar was already watching her.
There was something different in his face,
a flicker of something raw and unexpected. Almost like awe.
"You really remember all that?" he asked.
She nodded. "Every second."
"You liked that show, didn't you?" He said his lips curving, just a little.
She gave a breath of a laugh. "He was brilliant. Who wouldn't?"
Cedrik let out a low whistle. "Seven academy soldiers... That's a lot. Makes you wonder what kind of lunatic runs straight into that and walks away standing."
His tone was light, almost teasing, but his eyes flicked toward Ar who was now looking out the window.
"Maybe he wasn't running in. Maybe they were in his way." he said voice calm.
Cedrik watched him a second longer, then nodded slowly, something like quiet confirmation settling into his face.
"Yeah," he said. "Sounds like the kind of bastard who'd survive it."
Ar didn't respond, but his posture had eased. He seemed lighter somehow, like something in Enor's words had landed somewhere deep inside him.
And when he smiled again, it was real.
Enor didn't notice the exchange between them. She was lost in the memory, in the faint, steady glow of her own hope.
But Cedrik saw everything.
And now he knew for sure.