They were at Janet and Dominic's place when it happened.
The house.
The same one that used to belong to Phong's uncle and aunt.
The walls had fresh paint.
The creaky floorboard by the kitchen still complained the same way.
The second-floor window, the one Dominic once watched through on Christmas, spilled the same soft evening light across the hallway.
It didn't feel stolen.
It didn't feel wrong.
It felt kept.
Preserved.
Janet had insisted they host tonight.
White Valentine extension.
Barbecue night.
Normal-life night.
The TV murmured in the background while Dominic prepped the grill outside. Anchor voices blended into laughter and clinking bowls.
Then every phone on the table pinged at once.
Every status menu flickered.
Even Phong's.
A banner slid across the air, system-issued. Not personal.
Global.
FLOOR TWO: BOSS MANIFESTATION DETECTED
The room went dead quiet.
Alex froze mid-step.
Janet's fingers tightened around a bowl of marinated vegetables.
On the coffee table, Selena's tablet flashed red.
Vanessa leaned forward slightly. "Turn it up."
Phong grabbed the remote.
The news had already cut to live feed.
A camera drone hovered above a massive open plain on Floor Two.
Divers scattered like ants.
Then it descended.
At first, only shadow.
Then flame.
It hit the ground with a shockwave that cracked stone.
Tall.
Taller than anything they'd seen.
It stood on talons like carved obsidian.
Feathers blazed red and gold, not just color but combustion. Heat poured off them so hard the air around it buckled into visible streams.
Six wings unfurled in layered symmetry.
Three pairs of eyes opened, each set glowing differently: amber, crimson, molten white.
A beak shaped like an axe blade.
Nine long tail feathers fanned behind it, shimmering like a peacock made of fire.
Above it, the system text glitched.
Red font.
Not the usual white or yellow.
???
A stat panel tried to load.
All red.
All ???.
No level.
No HP.
No classification.
Only unknown.
The anchor's voice shook.
"Divers are calling it a catastrophic-level entity."
The media slapped a name on it immediately.
Monstrous Phoenix.
Divers called it something else.
"Catastrophe."
"Life-ending threat."
The footage cut to aftermath.
Guild banners shredded.
Armor liquefied.
Bodies.
Casualty numbers scrolled too fast to read.
Floor Two guilds wiped out in under five minutes. The boss tore through Floor Two, decimating divers from every nation that had entered. A floor boss manifested and triggered global distress in a single breath.
Another feed showed a coordinated team trying an aerial assault.
They didn't reach it.
Flames curved midair like guided missiles.
Erased.
---
Silence.
The room suddenly felt too small.
Selena's voice came through the tablet speaker, thin and horrified.
"That's not Level 35."
No.
The red text alone screamed anomaly.
A boss.
First confirmed floor boss manifestation.
Two years into the dungeon's existence.
The anchor shifted into the familiar cadence of crisis management.
Senate reactions. Emergency funding. Public outrage.
The same senator who had ranted months ago about preventing China's monopoly appeared on screen.
Resignation statement.
Stepping down "to take responsibility."
Phong watched without blinking.
He stepped down.
Still rich.
Still powerful.
Still networked.
Still influential.
Just a scapegoat.
The system remained.
Governments promised reform.
The public accepted it.
Because the alternative was chaos.
And people preferred flawed structure over anarchy.
Dominic grabbed the remote.
Click.
Music channel.
Loud. Upbeat.
Barbecue-themed playlist.
He stood abruptly.
"No."
Everyone looked at him.
"Barbecue night will NOT be stressful."
He pointed at Phong. "You."
Phong stared. "What."
"Grill."
Phong blinked at him.
"I—"
"A real man must know fire control."
Phong looked at the backyard grill like it was a raid arena.
Vietnamese household oven? Mostly decorative.
Stovetop and wok supremacy.
This was different.
Charcoal.
Open flame.
Temperature zones.
Indirect heat.
It felt like walking into a Soulsborne fight with no tutorial.
Dominic clapped his shoulder.
"You'll learn."
Janet was already moving, voice crisp.
"Focus on food."
Alex exhaled slowly. "Yes."
They split without needing to plan it.
Dominic dragged Phong outside.
"Rule one. Don't panic."
"I'm not panicking."
"You look like you're about to dodge-roll sausages and parry chicken wings."
Phong shot him a glare.
Dominic grinned.
"Heat control is positioning. Like a tank."
"That comparison does not make it easier for me," Phong said flatly. "You know that, right?"
Dominic shrugged and got to work anyway.
He showed him airflow adjustment.
Coal distribution.
How to judge flame height by sound, by color, by how the smoke moved.
"Don't fight the fire," Dominic said. "Guide it."
Phong nodded slowly.
That part clicked.
Inside, the girls took over the kitchen.
Alex, Janet, Selena through the tablet, Vanessa moving between rooms.
Vegetables chopped.
Sauces mixed.
Pickles packed.
Garlic, the non-explosive version.
The puppy and kitten sat on the counter, observing like tiny professors.
Rico crept toward a soda can.
Vanessa caught him mid-reach.
"Not today."
Rico gasped. "You deny evolution."
"Yes."
Selena leaned into frame. "No more transcendence episodes."
The kitten flicked its tail. "I disapprove of caffeine."
The puppy nodded solemnly. "Rage is sufficient stimulant."
Alex wiped her hands.
"You two need names."
The puppy perked up. "We do?"
"Yes. You talk now. You have classes. You deserve names."
Vanessa leaned against the counter, thoughtful.
"Ominous names?"
Selena shook her head.
"No dungeon references."
Janet added, "No fire themes. We've had enough."
They started brainstorming like it was a wholesome RPG side quest.
The puppy flexed. "I am Barbarian."
Alex smiled.
"Something strong."
Vanessa tapped her chin.
"Bruno?"
The puppy considered, then nodded once. "…Bruno is acceptable."
The kitten looked unimpressed.
"I require elegance."
Selena laughed softly. "Of course you do."
Alex studied the kitten.
"Nyx?"
The kitten blinked slowly. "…Acceptable."
Bruno and Nyx.
Barbarian and Sorcerer.
Named.
Claimed.
Outside, Dominic flipped ribs like it was muscle memory.
Phong turned skewers carefully, watching heat the way Dominic taught him to.
Smoke rose.
Music pulsed through the living room window.
The world was still burning.
A boss had appeared on Floor Two with no warning.
Guilds were gone.
Politics spun into damage control.
But in this backyard, there was marinade. There was laughter. There was the smell of meat caramelizing the right way.
Dominic leaned in to inspect Phong's technique.
"Not bad."
"I'm adapting."
"Good."
Inside, Alex stepped onto the patio and leaned against the doorframe.
She watched him work.
"Hey."
He looked up. "Hey."
She nodded at the grill.
"You're not fighting it."
Phong glanced at the flames. "I'm grateful the grill decided it doesn't want to fight me today."
She smiled faintly.
Behind them, through the window, Bruno barked at his own reflection.
Nyx practiced conjuring a faint spark above her paw.
Rico sulked on the couch, muttering about suppressed potential.
The TV briefly flashed the Monstrous Phoenix again before the music swallowed it.
Floor Two had changed.
Global powers would respond.
But tonight, Dominic demanded barbecue.
Janet demanded balance.
And Phong, Mudskipper between worlds, survived his first real encounter with open flame without a wok or that handheld grill grate as a shield.
---
The smoke thinned as the last ribs turned.
Corn blistered just enough.
Skewers caramelized clean instead of burning into charcoal disgrace.
Dominic watched Phong's final flip with exaggerated seriousness.
"…You're promoted from recruit."
Phong exhaled. "I survived."
"That's all barbecue is," Dominic said. "Controlled survival."
They carried trays inside.
Janet had laid everything out like a feast.
Fresh herbs.
Dipping sauces.
Pickled vegetables.
Toasted bread.
Grilled pineapple with honey and a touch of chili.
Bruno sat upright at the edge of the table, trying very hard to look civilized.
Nyx perched on the back of a chair like a tiny aristocrat overseeing a banquet.
Rico eyed the soda cooler with wounded dignity.
They filled plates.
Laughter came easier now.
Music hummed lower.
Phong stood with a glass in hand, not soda this time. Sparkling water with lime.
He tapped it gently.
"Hey."
The room quieted.
He looked at Dominic.
At Janet.
At Jake, Jack, Joanne.
At Selena on the tablet.
At Vanessa.
At Alex beside him.
"We're lucky."
Dominic tilted his head. "Understatement."
"If you'd been a few days later," Phong continued, "if that boss had manifested while you were still pushing Floor Two…"
He let the sentence die.
He didn't need to finish it.
Any chance above zero of encountering that Monstrous Phoenix was fatal.
Steroid-level raid boss.
Red-text anomaly.
Unknown stats.
He raised his glass.
"To timing."
"To dumb luck," Dominic added.
"To not being on Floor Two today," Janet said.
"To barbecue night," Vanessa said, smirking.
"To sleepovers," Selena chimed in.
Glasses clinked.
Even Rico lifted a can solemnly.
Bruno barked in agreement.
Nyx flicked her tail, approving.
They ate.
Slow. Full.
For once, nobody rushed.
When plates thinned and voices softened, Phong leaned back in his chair.
"Next plant."
Dominic looked up. "For the camp?"
"Yes," Phong said. "What should I grow next?"
Jake answered first. "Something ranged. Longer than chilies."
Jack added, "Area control."
Joanne shrugged. "Maybe something that messes with flying threats."
Janet wiped her hands, thoughtful.
"Resilience crop. Something that stabilizes terrain."
Vanessa leaned forward.
"Damage immunity stockpile for allies."
Selena's eyes lit up on the screen.
"Symbiotic vine. Something that can link external allies to the Moletato network temporarily."
Dominic grinned.
"Explosive pumpkins."
Phong stared at him.
"You all realize I have no control over how they mutate, right?"
He facepalmed, hiding a faint smile behind his hand.
His plants reacted to threats for survival. How and when they chose to change stayed outside his control.
But watching his people lean in like this, invested, imagining Camp Stymphalian's future, warmed him straight through.
It meant they cared.
Alex didn't answer right away.
She studied Phong instead.
"Something beautiful," she said softly.
He blinked. "Beautiful?"
"Yes," she said. "Not everything needs to be a weapon."
The room quieted for a beat.
Phong nodded slowly.
"Noted."
Maybe he would never control the mutations.
But the thought still counted.
At least, he believed it did.
---
The sleepover happened almost by default.
"No one's driving back tonight," Janet declared. "Floor Two can burn without us."
Blankets piled into the living room.
Dominic passed out first on the couch like a fallen oak.
Jake and Jack claimed the floor.
Joanne curled near the coffee table.
Vanessa and Selena took the guest room.
Bruno snored heroically by the back door.
Nyx vanished somewhere high.
Rico claimed a pillow like a king reclaiming territory.
Phong paused at the staircase.
At night, the house felt different.
Familiar.
Full of echoes that weren't there anymore.
Alex touched his hand. "Show me?"
He nodded.
They climbed to the attic.
The steps creaked in the same places they always had.
The door opened into a small room with a slanted ceiling.
Low.
Warm.
A tiny roof window cut a square of night into the space.
From it, the church clock tower across the street stood perfectly framed.
The same tower he'd stared at on countless nights as a kid.
He stepped inside slowly.
"This was mine."
Alex moved to the window.
"It's small."
"It was enough."
She turned back.
"What were you like?"
He leaned against the wall.
"Quiet. Shy. Smarty-pants who thought he knew better…"
Alex gave him a look.
"Self-esteem."
"Sorry," he said automatically.
She smiled, faint.
"But aside from the last part, I can still see that boy. Quiet. A little shy. And smart."
Phong let his gaze drift around the room.
"The oven downstairs was decorative," he said softly. "My aunt hated baking. Said it took too long. Preferred quick stir-fry."
Alex sat cross-legged on the floor.
"And your uncle?"
"He fixed everything," Phong said.
He paused.
"Except what mattered."
Alex didn't interrupt.
"They weren't dramatic," he continued. "No big speeches. No grand gestures."
He stepped closer.
"They would've liked you."
Alex's eyes softened.
"I barely knew them."
He took her hand.
"They would've."
He pulled her closer and kissed her, quick and certain.
"My uncle would've tried to grill for you," he added, lighter.
She laughed quietly.
"And your aunt?"
"Would've made something too spicy and watched to see if you flinched."
Alex leaned her forehead to his.
"I wouldn't."
"I know."
The clock tower chimed softly outside.
Late.
Peaceful.
Below them, the house breathed with sleeping friends.
The world still had a Phoenix burning through Floor Two.
Politics still spun.
Casualties still climbed.
But here, in a small attic room with a crooked ceiling and a tiny window, there was no dungeon.
No boss.
No war.
Just two people sitting where a boy once dreamed of escaping something bigger than him.
And realizing he had.
Not upward. Not through levels.
Sideways.
Into something steadier.
Alex squeezed his hand.
"They'd be proud."
Phong nodded once.
"I hope so."
And for the first time in that room, he didn't feel alone.