[Broadcast Signal: The Flavor Network | Planet Volcarra Prime — 5,000°C and rising]
The shuttle shook so hard that the rice cooker screamed.
Lira gripped the console. "You strapped the oxygen filters to a grill!?"
Arin, smiling in full pilot goggles, adjusted his spatula. "Dual purpose! Breathing and searing! Ayos!"
The ship lurched again, rattling the utensils. Outside, the planet glowed like an open wound — a world of molten rivers and obsidian storms.
Kaiya's voice came through the comm. "You're late. As usual."
Arin shrugged. "Fashionably charred."
Lira muttered, "We're all going to die fashionable, apparently."
1 — THE CHALLENGE
ROUND FOUR: Harvest the Firefruit of Volcarra Prime.
Warning: combustible when touched by strong emotion.
Arin read the screen, head tilted. "Wait — fruit explodes when you feel something? Then I'm doomed."
"Good," Lira said. "Maybe this planet will finish what your ego started."
He smirked. "Ego fuels the flame, partner."
Lira crossed her arms. "It's going to fuel your cremation."
They stepped outside.
The air hissed — heat wrapping around them like wet metal. Even with the network's stabilizer badges, the suits shimmered dangerously.
The ground was a field of black glass, cracked by glowing rivers of magma.
Trees of ash rose from the cracks, their branches heavy with orbs of burning gold — Firefruit.
Each one pulsed like it had a heartbeat.
2 — THE PLAN (SORT OF)
Lira's visor glowed. "All right, readings say the fruit's volatile. We grab one, stabilize it, and get out."
"Grab, stabilize, got it."
Arin unsheathed his chef's knife. It immediately caught fire.
Lira sighed. "You're impossible."
He blew on it. "Now it's preheated!"
He leapt from the ledge, boots cracking molten glass. The nearest Firefruit tree swayed, sensing his arrival.
Lira followed, scanning the area. "Keep your pulse calm. No excitement. It detonates on emotion."
"Lira, that's like asking water not to be wet!"
3 — EXPERIMENTAL FAILURE #1
Arin reached for a fruit, whispering to himself.
"Stay cool. Stay chill. Totally unbothered."
He touched it. The fruit blinked.
BOOM.
A ring of fire erupted, launching him ten meters into the air.
He landed face-first in cooling lava, smoking gently.
Lira ran up, scanning his vitals. "You okay?!"
He lifted a thumbs-up. "Medium rare."
She glared. "We need a plan that doesn't involve you dying."
"Okay, okay," he said, sitting up. "What if we— hear me out— sauté the emotion before it explodes?"
"What does that even—"
He was already standing, eyes gleaming. "We cook it on the tree."
4 — COOKING THE IMPOSSIBLE
He tore open his portable wok kit — half alchemy, half insanity — and set it beneath the Firefruit tree.
Flames licked the metal.
He poured in oil. It instantly vaporized.
Then he grinned, tossing in minced alien herbs, sizzling bits of cosmic pork, and a splash of vinegar that shimmered like starlight.
The air filled with smoke that smelled like heartbreak and breakfast.
"Arin," Lira warned, backing up. "This is how planets get recipes and funeral services confused."
"Relax! I've got the heat under control."
"You're standing in a volcano!"
"Exactly. Built-in stove."
He sliced open a Firefruit midair, tossed it into the wok — and the world exploded in color.
Light pulsed outwards, hitting the clouds. Every taste in existence flashed across their minds — sour childhoods, sweet revenge, bitter ex-lovers, salty paychecks.
Lira stumbled, tears in her eyes. "It's… every flavor you've ever felt."
Arin smiled faintly, eyes watering from both emotion and smoke.
"Then it's finally honest cooking."
5 — THE SISIG REBORN
When the light died, only steam remained.
Arin knelt before the wok, trembling.
Inside sizzled a masterpiece — Firefruit Sisig, glowing softly, the fat still popping, the aroma cutting through the heat like memory.
Lira knelt beside him. "You did it."
He coughed. "Of course I did. Totally planned."
She raised a brow. "You accidentally invented interdimensional sisig."
"'Accidentally' is just destiny with poor coordination."
He plated the dish. The meat crackled as if alive.
Lira took a bite.
Her pupils dilated.
"Holy— It's like tasting summer, heartbreak, and barbecue all at once."
Arin smiled. "Ano, ayos? Ayos ba, Lira?"
She hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Ayos. Against all reason— ayos."
6 — THE AFTERTASTE
"CONGRATULATIONS, TEAM EARTH," boomed the Flavor Network.
"You've created a new flavor: Emotional Heatwave.
Viewer reactions: 92% tears, 8% dehydration."
Arin waved weakly at the sky. "We're trending again!"
Lira threw him a water bottle. "You're trending toward heatstroke."
He grinned. "Worth it."
But then the broadcast flickered.
The air shimmered.
A woman's voice — cool, precise, terrifyingly familiar — echoed from nowhere.
"You've learned to cook with feeling. Let's see if you can survive without it."
A hologram materialized: a woman in black chef's robes, eyes glowing like molten steel — Chef Veyra (Arin's former mentor), Arin's old mentor.
Lira froze. "Who—"
Arin's grin faded. "My teacher. The reason I started cooking."
Veyra smiled, a razor curve.
"And the reason you'll stop."
Static swallowed the signal.
Arin stood there, silent for once, the Firefruit's glow flickering on his face.
Lira looked at him. "You okay?"
He forced a shaky grin. "Yeah. Just… lost my appetite."
End of Chapter 4