The invitation came on a Tuesday, written in Leo's careful, blocky handwriting on a sparkle-embedded card: "You are invited to see Nugget. 3:30. Bring homework."
Mrs. Evans, after a phone call with Leo's mother, beamed. "A playdate! How lovely! Remember to use your manners, sweetie."
Leo lived in an apartment that smelled of lemony cleaner and simmering tomatoes. His room was a monument to organized chaos: color-coded books, model spaceships hanging at precise altitudes, and a large, elaborate habitat on his desk.
And in the habitat, currently attempting to stuff a sunflower seed larger than his head into cheek pouches designed by a more sensible creator, was Nugget.
The golden Syrian hamster froze mid-stuff as Astraea entered. His black eyes, polished to obsidian perfection, locked onto her. Then the trembling began.
It started as a slight shiver in his whiskers, then spread through his entire body—a profound, resonant vibration that made the bedding around him quiver. He dropped the seed, backed into the farthest corner of his enclosure, and stared with the unblinking terror of prey that has just understood its place in the food chain.
Ah, Astraea thought. The animal knows what the humans cannot.
Leo, oblivious to the existential crisis occurring in the habitat, reached in to stroke Nugget's back. "He's usually super friendly. Loves his wheel."
Nugget flinched at Leo's touch but kept his eyes locked on Astraea. A tiny, high-pitched squeak escaped him—the sound of a soul realizing the universe contains horrors beyond wheel-based entertainment.
"He seems… apprehensive," Astraea said carefully, taking a deliberate step back. She began the delicate process of compressing her cosmic signature, wrapping layers of psychic insulation around her true nature until she approximated the harmless emptiness of a human child.
The effect was gradual. After a full minute, Nugget's trembling downgraded from earthquake to mild seismic event. He retrieved his dropped seed but watched her with the wary intensity of a sentry guarding the last outpost of sanity.
"He's calming down," Leo said, satisfied. "Want to see his trick? He can climb this rope ladder."
Astraea watched as Leo coaxed the hamster with apple. Nugget, driven by treat-motivated courage or perhaps a desperate desire to please the giant who controlled the food supply, performed his trick. His eyes never left Astraea.
[System observation!]
[Subject: 'Nugget' - Domesticated rodent]
[Notable trait: Instinctual sensitivity (Grade: Exceptional)]
[Reaction to User: Primal terror → Cautious observation]
[Analysis: Subject perceives user's true nature despite camouflage protocols]
I don't need a System analysis to tell me the hamster recognizes a dragon, Astraea thought. I need Nugget to understand I have no interest in consuming organisms smaller than a mountain range. The communication barrier is significant.
They moved to homework—CYAP worksheets involving counting sparkles. As they worked, Astraea continued to monitor the hamster. Nugget had retreated to a plastic igloo but kept his nose twitching at the air vent, scenting for cosmic radiation.
"You're watching him a lot," Leo said, not looking up from his worksheet.
"He's an interesting creature," Astraea said, selecting a truth. "Animals perceive realities we cannot. They sense vibrations, magnetic fields, chemical traces we ignore."
Leo paused, his pencil hovering. "You talk like my grandpa. He's a scientist." He looked at her, curiosity overriding shyness. "How do you know stuff like that?"
I have been studying biology since humans believed illness was caused by imbalances in four bodily humors, she thought. She said: "I read. A lot."
Leo accepted this. "Nugget knows when I'm sad. He comes out and just sits there. And… since I got my green finger, he acts different around me. Not scared. Just… attentive. Like he's watching the light."
He is, Astraea thought. He senses the minute mana leakage from your fingertip—a new energy in his world. What he senses from me isn't new energy. It's the oldest hunger he's ever encountered.
"Perhaps he thinks your green is a new kind of sun," she said aloud. "A personal one."
Leo liked that. He smiled, looking at his finger. "Yeah. My own sun."
Later, during cookies and milk, Nugget faced his ultimate test: chocolate chip proximity versus dragon proximity. The conflict played out across his tiny face—nose twitching toward the cookies, eyes locked on Astraea, back and forth.
Astraea took a crumb no larger than a dust mote and, moving with glacial slowness, placed it on the desk's edge. A peace offering. A treaty of carbohydrates.
Nugget stared at the crumb. Stared at her. The battle in his rodent mind was almost audible. After thirty seconds, hunger triumphed over evolutionary wisdom. He dashed forward in a golden blur, snatched the crumb, and vanished back into his igloo to consume it in safety.
When Mrs. Evans arrived, Nugget had emerged again. He wasn't relaxed, but he'd achieved a state of armed neutrality. He watched Astraea put on her coat with the weary acceptance of a diplomat after tense negotiations.
"Bye, Nugget," Astraea said softly.
The hamster twitched his whiskers—acknowledgment, if not affection.
Walking to the car, Leo said, "I think he liked you. By the end."
"We've reached an understanding," Astraea replied.
In the car, she processed the encounter. Nugget's fear was more than a data point—it was a reminder that her camouflage had limits. Human perception was clouded by cognition, culture, and System misdirection. But animal instinct operated on older, purer frequencies. It recognized the void where a child should be.
That night, as she measured her height against the wall, she felt it—not just the growth, but the implication.
Growth: 0.25 cm cumulative.
A quarter-centimeter. To humans, nothing. To her, a continent rising.
[System notification!]
[Achievement unlocked: 'Animal diplomat!']
[Description: You have established peaceful relations with a creature of pure instinct!]
[Reward: +1 to Perception, 'Rodent Neutrality' temporary buff (24 hours)]
Astraea looked at the notification, then at her window, where the city's light drowned the stars.
Nugget sees a predator. Leo sees a strange, smart friend. The System sees a child with good social skills. I see a network of perceptions, all incomplete, all true in their way.
My truth is written in centimeters and awakening bones. And in the wary whisker-twitch of a golden hamster who accepted a cookie crumb from a dragon.
The disguise holds. But for how much longer?