Nix, sitting directly opposite him, was grinning like he'd just won the lottery and the jackpot was infinite suffering for his friend. He leaned forward on his elbows, chopsticks dangling lazily from his fingers, eyes sparkling with pure mischief. "Bro, you're eating like an eighty-year-old man with hemorrhoids and a bad back. Need a pillow for your pride? Or maybe a donut cushion? I can 3D-print one later if you want."
Macker shot him a look that could have melted steel. "One more joke. One more single joke, Nix, and I swear to every god on this floating rock I will dump this entire bowl of boiling noodles straight onto your lap. See how you like it."
Nix held up both hands in mock surrender, but the grin never left his face. "Peace, peace. I'm just saying—legendary self-own. History books will remember this as 'The Great Boiled Balls Incident of Sky Island.' We'll make a plaque."
Ema leaned over his own cup of coffee, stirring it slowly with a chopstick he'd grabbed from the drawer. He looked up with a half-smile. "Leave him alone, Nix. He's suffered enough for one lifetime. Besides, we've got bigger problems than Macker's boiled balls right now."
He nodded toward the padded tool case sitting dead center on the table like some forbidden artifact. "That drone isn't going to dissect itself, and I'm pretty sure Hedonas isn't sending Mark-VIIs just to admire our fighting style."
Kruna, who had claimed his usual spot perched cross-legged on the kitchen counter because "chairs are for normals and weaklings," slurped his noodles so loudly it echoed off the metal walls.
He swallowed, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and gave a small shrug. "Ema's right. Hedonas Mark-VII stealth scout. They don't send those for fun or casual curiosity. Either they've been watching us since we moved onto this rock, or yesterday's C-class takedown lit up every alert in their system like a damn Christmas tree in July."
Aftor, perched on the table edge with his legs swinging idly back and forth, twirled his small knife absentmindedly between his fingers like it was a fidget spinner. "If they've got 48 hours of continuous footage, they've seen everything. Our formation, Orced's White Comet Strike, my precision stabs, Ema's arrow volleys, Macker's tanking, Sano's shield bash. They know we're coordinated. They know we're strong. And they know we're not afraid to show off."
Sano, who had just ducked back inside from his early-morning watch on the plaza, filled the doorway with his massive frame. His shield was still strapped to his back like a dark cape, and his face was calm but his eyes were sharp, scanning the room out of habit. "Nothing new on the horizon. Horizon's clear for now. That shimmer I saw at sunrise faded completely when the sun came up. Could've been heat distortion off the clouds. Could've been something else pulling back after the drone went dark. I'll keep an eye out after we finish here."
Orced, seated at the head of the table like it was the most natural thing in the world, set his coffee mug down with a soft clink. "Good. Means they're not rushing in yet. They're observing. Watching. Which gives us time—time we can use."
Macker winced again as he shifted in his seat, trying (and failing) to find a comfortable position. "Time to do what exactly? Hide like rats? Run to another island?"
Nix leaned forward eagerly, eyes gleaming with barely contained excitement. "Hit it. Today. Right now. Show them we're not scared of drones or B-class curses or their stupid surveillance. We're Sky Boys. We don't hide from anything. We punch it in the face and move on."
Ema chuckled, pushing his hair back again (it immediately fell forward). "You just want to blow something up again. Admit it."
Nix shrugged without shame. "Guilty as charged. But also—strategy. Pure strategy. If Hedonas is watching, let's give them something worth watching. A clean, fast, brutal kill. Proves we're a real threat."
Kruna nodded slowly, finishing the last of his noodles and pushing the empty cup away. "He's not wrong. We scout at 09:00 sharp, hit at noon. Use the island's altitude advantage to the fullest. Drop in hard and fast, end it quick. No drawn-out fight. No mistakes. No one gets cocky."
Aftor flipped his knife closed with a snap and tucked it into his sleeve. "I like it. Clean. Efficient. But we need to know exactly what the drone knows first. If they've got audio, they heard Orced's speech yesterday word for word. 'We're gonna destroy every bit of evil.' That's not exactly subtle. That's a declaration of war on their entire worldview."
Orced smiled faintly, the kind of smile that was calm on the surface but hid steel underneath. "Good. Let them hear it. Let them know we're their enemy. No point in pretending to be peaceful, we can't be peaceful towards those who are watching us."
Sano set his shield against the wall with a heavy thud and sat down carefully—the chair creaked loudly under his weight, protesting. "We should assume they know our names, our powers, our patterns, our weaknesses. That means no more predictable moves. We change formations every fight. Switch roles. Keep them guessing. Keep them off-balance."
Ema opened his laptop with a soft click. "I can start on the drone chip right now. Nix, you handle hardware. Let's see what they actually recorded, how much they saw, and how long they've been watching."
Nix rubbed his hands together. "My favorite part. Dissection time."
The group finished eating in a comfortable, familiar rhythm—chopsticks clicking against plastic cups, slurping, the occasional groan from Macker when he moved too fast, soft laughter when someone cracked a joke. Macker kept shifting uncomfortably in his seat, earning more teasing from Kruna.
"Still hurts like hell?" Kruna asked, smirking as he leaned back on the counter.
Macker glared at him through watering eyes. "Like you care. You laughed the hardest when it happened. I heard you wheezing."
Kruna shrugged, completely unapologetic. "Because it was funny. You poured boiling water on your own balls. That's once-in-a-lifetime comedy. I'm allowed to laugh."
Ema laughed so hard he almost choked on his coffee, slapping the table. "I'm keeping the video forever. This is blackmail material for years. Wedding present. Birthday gift. 'Remember when you boiled your balls?'"
Aftor grinned, shaking his head. "Or we sell it. 'Sky Boys Blooper Reel – Volume 1.' Instant viral hit."
Macker groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I hate this family. I hate all of you. I'm moving to the mainland. I'm done."
Orced chuckled softly, the sound warm and easy. "You love it. Admit it. You wouldn't trade this for anything."
Macker sighed dramatically, peeking through his fingers. "Yeah… fine. But next time someone cooks, I'm supervising from a safe distance. Preferably from another island."
Breakfast wrapped up quickly after that. Plates were stacked in the sink (Sano quietly volunteered to wash later—he always did the heavy lifting without complaint), and the group moved as one toward the workshop at the back of the building.
It was a converted storage room they'd turned into their makeshift lab: workbenches cluttered with tools, half-disassembled gadgets, Nix's charging station humming in the corner, shelves lined with salvaged curse cores and spare parts, and a single overhead bulb swinging slightly in the breeze from an open vent.
Orced set the padded case down on the main workbench with careful precision. "Nix, Ema—start. Everyone else, eyes open. If Hedonas sent one drone, they might send more. Or something worse."
Nix opened the case and lifted the drone carefully, turning it over in his hands like a prized trophy. "Mark-VII. Stealth coating still intact. EMP killed the primary systems, but the data chip has a backup capacitor. Still holding a tiny charge. Good thing we didn't wait longer or it might have wiped itself."
Ema plugged in a cable and opened his laptop. "Bypassing encryption now. This might take fifteen to twenty minutes. Quantum feed's nasty, but I've got a backdoor script from last year's leak. Should work."
Aftor leaned against the wall near the door, knife out again, eyes on the hallway. "I've got the door. No one interrupts. No one gets close."
Kruna stood beside him, blades sheathed but hands loose and ready. "Same. Anyone tries to barge in, they get a blade in the throat before they can blink."
Sano positioned himself by the single window, shield resting against his leg. "I'll watch outside from here. If something approaches—drone, curse, Hedonas strike team—you'll hear me shout. Or you'll hear the shield hit something."
Macker hovered near the bench, still walking gingerly, arms crossed. "I'm here for moral support. And to make sure Nix doesn't blow us all up while he's 'working.'"
Nix rolled his eyes. "Says the guy who boiled his own balls at breakfast. Sit down before you hurt yourself again, hero."
Macker flipped him off but sat on a nearby stool anyway, wincing as he settled.