Lucan stirred to the sound of soft humming. His eyes cracked open, sunlight filtering through the curtains in thin golden lines. The song drifted through the hallway and straight into his ears like a sweet alarm.
He rubbed his face and groaned. "Why does it sound like someone's performing a cleaning opera in the hallway?"
He sat up slowly and called out, "Morning."
Lyra's voice floated back without missing a beat. "Morning, Mr. Untidy."
Lucan blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I've almost cleaned the whole damn house." she said, appearing in the doorway with her sleeves rolled up and a rag slung over one shoulder. "Just your room left. And it's a disaster zone. Like, I'm genuinely concerned."
Lucan frowned. "C'mon, really? You gonna bully me first thing in the morning?"
"First thing?" she scoffed. "It's already past six. The sun's up, the dishes are done, and I think I mopped judgment into the floor. Meanwhile, you're over here drooling into your futon like some tragic anime side character."
Lucan grabbed a pillow and chucked it at her. "Uncalled for."
She caught it with a smirk and tossed it back onto the bed. "Get up. I'm not stepping another foot into this room until you at least fold that thing."
Grumbling, Lucan threw off the blanket and started folding the futon. "Slave driver…"
"What was that?"
"Nothing, just admiring your incredible dedication to cleanliness."
"That's what I thought."
By the time Lucan was dressed and had splashed cold water on his face, the clock on the wall read just past 7:00 AM. He padded into the kitchen, cracked a few eggs, dropped toast into the slots, and smeared a light layer of butter into the pan.
The smell of breakfast floated upward.
Lyra descended the stairs, still wiping her hands on her jeans. "Wow. Again with your cliché breakfast?"
Lucan glanced over his shoulder. "Hey, light and healthy. Your body needs energy, not instant noodles and rebellion."
"Oh boy. Here we go again." she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Lucan's legendary lecture on nutrition and optimal digestion."
"Don't blame me when I outlive you by thirty years."
"I won't. I'll be haunting your kale smoothies."
He chuckled, plating the toast and eggs. The butter glistened just slightly across the top as he turned off the stove.
After placing the plates on the dining table, he made his way to his grandfather's room. The old man was still curled under the blanket, snoring gently.
"Hey, Grandpa." Lucan said softly, touching his shoulder. "Time to get up. Breakfast's ready."
His grandfather stirred, blinking a few times before nodding. "Mmm… smells like eggs."
Lucan helped him up, waited while he washed up, and had his morning pills already prepared by the time they reached the table.
They all sat down together, and for a while, the only sound was the light clink of utensils and the soft rustling of toast being torn apart.
Lucan glanced up. "Grandpa… do you still remember Mr. Kion and his family?"
The old man paused mid-bite, his brows knitting together. "Hmm… who?"
Lucan smiled patiently. "You used to play chess with him. They lived down the lane, and they had a dog named—"
"Drosh." Grandpa said suddenly, eyes brightening. "Yeah. I remember. How could I forget that rascal?"
Lucan's smile widened. "Yeah. That Drosh."
He hesitated, then continued, "So… Mr. Kion with his family will be staying here for a few days and take care of you. I need to go out of town for some university stuff."
Grandpa squinted at him. "Take care? Who needs to be taken care of? I'm still healthy. And young."
Lucan held back a laugh. "I know, Grandpa. I know. They just… wanted to spend time with you. Said they miss you. And I figured… you'd want to hang out with Drosh again?"
The old man cracked a small smile, eyes softening. "Of course I do."
Lucan nodded. "They'll be here in a few hours."
Grandpa picked up another bite of toast, then added, "Just so you know—they'll be staying here because they need me. Not the other way around. Got it?"
Lucan smiled. "Got it."
The rest of breakfast passed in a calm, comfortable silence.
After clearing the plates, Lucan handed Grandpa his medicine along with a glass of water. The old man took it without a word, swallowing slowly, then let out a satisfied sigh.
He shuffled over to the recliner, settled in with his blanket, and leaned back with a quiet grunt. Within minutes, his eyes drifted shut and soft, steady snoring filled the room—deep and rhythmic, like the kind of sleep earned through years of living.
Lucan quietly took his empty plate from the table. "He's out already." he murmured.
Lyra nodded, collecting hers as well. "He really does sleep like a rock."
They moved around the kitchen in silence, the kind of silence that didn't feel empty. Lucan washed while Lyra dried, working in rhythm like they'd done it a thousand times. The dishes clinked softly into place, and the scent of toast and eggs still lingered in the air.
After the last plate was stored, Lucan wiped his hands and stretched his arms with a quiet yawn. "Alright." he said, walking to the corner of the room, "Time to pack."
He sat cross-legged on the floor and began pulling a small bag from under the shelf. A couple of folded clothes, a water bottle, emergency meds, and what looked like a half-used notebook. He started placing them one by one, mumbling to himself. "Alright… one pair for backup, one for sleep, that's good, maybe snacks—"
A laugh broke the focus.
Lucan looked up. "What?"
Lyra stood near the stairs, arms folded, an amused smile tugging at her lips. "You're really gonna pack like that?"
Lucan blinked. "Yeah? What else am I supposed to do?"
She shook her head and walked over, crouching beside him. "You forgot something."
He frowned. "What? Socks?"
She tapped her index finger against the surface of his Vein-linked watch. "This."
Lucan stared. "The watch?"
"Wow. That quick to forget my greatness, huh?"
Lucan squinted at her. "Are you messing with me again?"
Lyra rolled her eyes and flicked his forehead. "I told you—you can get whatever you need through this thing. It's not just for messages and glowing lights. It links directly to supply nodes, resource vaults, and teleport access points."
Lucan rubbed his forehead. "So it actually works like that? You weren't just teasing me?"
"Nope. Real deal." She stood and offered her hand. "Get ready. I'll show you what it can do."
Lucan took her hand and got to his feet, still digesting what she'd said. But before he could ask more, Lyra tilted her head thoughtfully.
"Wait… I don't think I've told you about the tiers yet."
Lucan's brow furrowed. "Tiers?"
"Yeah." She walked over to the table and leaned against it. "It's one of the core classifications of The Vein—basically, how in sync you are with the god gene and how far you can push its capabilities. Most people don't even know their tier until after awakening, when the dormant gene kicks in."
Lucan folded his arms, listening.
"For example, I'm Tier-3. Which is pretty rare on Nirvenn. It means I can handle decent levels of Vein strain, control more functions, and pull limited commands directly from the system. But it's still a work in progress—I'm not fully mastered yet."
He raised a brow. "So the lower the number, the stronger the connection?"
"Exactly. The higher the number, the more distorted or distant the bloodline. Most of Nirvenn only has Tier-4 and above. Tier-2s are barely registered. Tier-1… basically legends."
Lucan nodded slowly. "Is there Tier-0?"
Lyra shrugged. "Theoretically. Nobody registers below Tier-2 here. Anything lower than that is… kind of off-record. You only hear rumors. People say Tier-0 is something closer to origin level, like a raw divine sync. But it's probably just a myth."
Lucan tried to keep his expression neutral, but his mind was racing. Wait… didn't the Vein screen say Tier-0 when I awakened?
He sat back down and glanced at his wrist.
Just to be sure...
He focused his thoughts.
The Vein screen flickered instantly into view, responding like a whisper of instinct.
[Tier Status: Tier-0 — Classification: Forbidden]
His pulse skipped. He stared for a second too long.
So it wasn't a mistake.
Lyra's voice cut through the silence. "Lucan?"
He blinked. "Yeah?"
"You spaced out."
"I was listening." he said quickly.
"Sure, you were." she muttered, side-eyeing him. "Anyway, once I finish syncing our exit protocol, we'll grab gear from the supply cache directly."
Lucan gave a slow nod, the glow of the Vein still fading from his vision. He said nothing about what he saw.
And then—Ding-dong.
The front doorbell rang.
Lucan glanced at Lyra.
She raised an eyebrow. "Right on time."
Lucan moved to the hallway as footsteps approached the door from the other side.
Mr. Kion had arrived.
[End of Chapter 7]