The Roosevelt Market was a makeshift marketplace set up along the remains of the Sara D. Roosevelt Park, which somehow survived the Fall. It was a brisk walk that took me just shy of twelve minutes from the terminal building on a good day. The strip had become a hub for trade and social interaction in the Lower East Side, a vibrant oasis in the middle of a city still in the process of being resettled. The Market was always bustling with activity, a place where survivors from all walks of life came together to barter, trade, and simply share stories of their experiences.

  One of the most notable things about the Market was the sheer variety of goods available for trade. Food, clothing, tools, and even luxury items from the pre-Chaos War world could be found here, each stall offering a unique assortment of goods. Some stalls were run by skilled craftsmen who had salvaged or created tools and weapons, while others were managed by traders who had managed to acquire rare goods like old Japanese video game consoles and German kitchen appliances. The prices were often high, but the chance to obtain items that were rare or impossible to come by these days was worth the cost for many.

  As I made my way to the market, the streets became increasingly crowded. People were everywhere, some carrying bags filled with goods, others simply strolling and enjoying the bustling atmosphere. I noticed a group of children playing a game of soccer in a makeshift field, their laughter echoing through the streets. Some elderly folks sat with weathered chess boards and mahjong tables, passing the time as they watched over the children.

  The air was filled with a mix of aromas, a combination of freshly baked bread, spices, and the faint smell of exhaust from the generators that powered some of the food trucks and mobile kitchens. As I walked, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in how far we had come since the Fall. The resilience of the human spirit was truly astonishing, and it was moments like these that gave me hope for the future.

  The expedition had set up public housing units in the form of tents, hastily-constructed barracks, and Terran mobile housing units that looked like rounded, colorful shipping containers. It wasn't much, but it was an improvement over living in the ruins of the city. The units were clustered around the market and the city's main roads, providing a sense of community and security for the survivors.

  The expedition had also brought in several mobile medical units, manned by Terran medics and volunteers from the local communities. These units provided much-needed medical care to the survivors, attending to everything from minor injuries to more serious ailments. The presence of the medical units had helped to improve the general health of the community, and the people were grateful for the support they received.

  Dad, Izumi, and I had spent a good five weeks or so in a Terran mobile housing unit before we could move into the brownstone we'd chosen. The work we put in volunteering as scouts rewarded us with the chance to choose a home that wasn't too heavily damaged and in a location we were comfortable with. These units were compact but functional, designed to be quickly deployed in emergency situations. They were equipped with basic amenities such as beds, a small kitchen area, and a bathroom with a septic tank. While they lacked the comforts of a permanent home, they served as a temporary refuge for the displaced, offering a sense of stability and security.

  It was a nice thing, that.

  Even if the U.S government had a tenuous hold on the country, the people from Terra were still going out of their way to help us. And, to be honest, they were doing a better job than our own government, which had suffered greatly during the Chaos War. The military junta in control of the U.S government was still trying to piece the country back together and re-establish elections, and it'd be years before we had anything close to normalcy. I couldn't even imagine what it was like to be the former Secretary of Treasury, suddenly thrust into the role of acting president.

  Still, not everyone welcomed the Terrans with open arms. The presence of the expedition had led to a growing divide among the survivors, and some were suspicious of them at best or outright hostile at worst. Some had taken residence on this side of the portal in the hopes of leaving the constant Chaos Events and skirmishes with the Chaos Beasts on Terra behind, and a lot of people saw the Terrans as opportunists looking to exploit Earth for our resources. Both resettlers and Terrans alike had been offered free homes and commercial real estate in Manhattan and Brooklyn as long as they participated in volunteer work, and a lot of people didn't like the idea that our planet had become a sort of refugee camp for another world.

  I wasn't sure how to feel about it all. On one hand, I understood the anger and resentment. Earth had been ravaged by the Chaos War, and many people were struggling to survive. The idea that another world was coming in to "help" felt condescending to some, especially those who had lost loved ones in the conflict.

  On the other hand, the Terrans had been a lifeline for many. They had brought resources, manpower, medicine, and technology that had helped save countless lives. Their assistance had been crucial in establishing safe zones, rebuilding infrastructure, and providing protection from the remnants of the chaos beasts and Aberrants that still roamed the planet. It was a complicated situation, one that required empathy and understanding from all parties involved. I'd even seen a few scuffles break out between those who supported the Terrans' presence and those who opposed it.

  But despite the tensions, the majority of the survivors were grateful for the assistance the expedition had provided. They understood that the Terrans' help was crucial in rebuilding their lives, and many were willing to overlook the occasional snub in favor of getting their lives back together.

  I walked past a group of soldiers at the edge of the market, chatting and laughing among themselves. They wore the distinct combat gear I associated with the U.S military, and carried the standard issue anti-chaos beast shoulder-mounted railguns.

  One of the soldiers, a middle-aged man with a scarred face, caught my eye and gave me a friendly nod, which I returned with a smile.

  "Morning!" I smiled with a wave.

  Turning away from the soldiers, I pulled out a crumpled hundred dollar note from my pocket, examining the faded green paper. A few years ago, it might have been able to get me a decent meal or a novel from a bookstore. Now, it barely equated to a loaf of bread. While the U.S. dollar still held value, its purchasing power had been inflated beyond recognition due to something I didn't quite understand when Elio explained it to me.

  Something about milkshakes and the dollar's value briefly surging to infinity before collapsing because of 'eurodollars' and something about 'Debit Suisse' and 'Deutsche Bank' or whatever. It was beyond my paygrade. But the Doc seemed to understand it perfectly when he was rambling.

  Thankfully, the government had managed to stabilize the dollar to a degree this year by initiating a peg to the Terran standard. The Terrans backed their 'Credits' with a hard currency in the form of mana crystals and chaos cores, both of which were actually pretty useful in their world's economy. We didn't have much use for mana crystals and chaos cores, though, due to a lack of expertise in general magitech. But we still collected our fair share of cores to export across the portal to Terra, along with our own technology and goods.

  "Geeze..." I muttered, shaking off my reverie.

  A familiar metallic gleam from a nearby stall caught my attention as I approached a currency exchange booth. The vendor, a middle-aged woman with vibrant blue Terran-esque eyes and a shock of bright red hair, sat behind a makeshift counter. Her stall was decorated with colorful banners and flags, and a sign that read 'Currency Exchange' hung prominently in the front. A series of glass counters displayed an assortment of shining iridescent gems — the cores and remnants of fallen chaos beasts. I knew American dollars were no good across the portal, and I’d need to scrimp a bit to have some convertible currency for Terran credits when I crossed over.

  "Looking to buy some cores, young man?" the woman asked, her voice smooth as silk.

  "Just checking the rates," I replied nonchalantly, trying not to showcase my inexperience at haggling. "How much for that Baron core over there?"

  The woman smiled slyly, "That would be seven thousand dollars, or if you've got salvage or any other valuables, I'm open to bartering."

  I swallowed hard. The current conversion rate for even a Baron’s core was steeper than I'd imagined. "Thanks," I muttered, deciding to prioritize my father's grocery list first. "I'll probably come back in a few days. How about the Viscount cores?"

  "Those are about fifty thousand dollars," she responded with a shrug. "But the exchange rate's pretty volatile, so they could be higher or lower depending on the day."

  I bit my lip. Fifty thousand dollars for a Viscount core.

  "Thanks. I'll probably come back in a few days."

  "No problem," the woman said, her smile unwavering. "I'll be here when you're ready."

  I moved on, my mind racing with sticker shock. Our family could probably eat the cost of sending me over with a Baron core in my bags, but a Viscount core? No way. And I knew my dad and sister would probably try to send me over with some extra cash anyway, just to make sure I wasn't going hungry or whatever. But still, it was a lot of money. I couldn't put that on them.

  I'd have to earn the money myself. I could sell some of my old things or work some odd jobs. Maybe I could ask around and see if anyone needed help moving or if there were any odd last-minute jobs available.

  It was a shame I didn't have the ability to purify a chaos core on my own, because that would have made things a lot easier. But without the ability to use magic like the Terrans, rendering a core above Knight-class inert was impossible. Cores from monsters at Baron-class and above were collected and sent to the Terrans for purification, because only they had the ability to purify cores of that level. The cores were then sold in Terra's massive markets, and the funds were distributed to the cities that had collected the cores. It was a pretty lucrative arrangement, but the people like my family who salvaged them were paid pennies on the dollar.

  I sighed, making my way past the currency exchange booth and into a bustling area filled with food stalls. The fragrant aroma of fresh fruits, vegetables, and herbs wafted through the air, and my mouth watered at the sight of ripe produce. I approached a tent marked 'Marco's Grocery', where a friendly man in a straw hat greeted me with a wide smile.

  "Morning, kid," the elderly vendor greeted, eyeing me with keen interest. "Good to see you again. What can I do ya for?"

  "Morning," I responded politely, giving him a nod. "I'm looking for some canned goods in general. On top of that — bread, fresh produce, and some eggs if you have them."

  He scratched his chin thoughtfully, his skin was tanned from the sun and hands were visibly roughened from years of manual work. "Produce, eh? Got some peaches, pears, and apples. Vegetables, we got corn, peas, and beans. And bread, well," he pointed to a small stack of loaves on the side, "got a few of those left. Eggs and milk in the fridge too."

  I eyed the price tags and winced internally. A single can of beans was going for a hundred and thirty dollars. The prices had crept up since our family’s last visit.

  "Any discounts if I buy in bulk?" I ventured, trying to make the most of the wads of cash dad had saddled me with.

  The old man seemed to mull it over for a moment, then smiled, showing off a missing front tooth. "For you, kid, I'll give a 10% discount if you buy five or more items."

  I smiled back gratefully and gave him a polite bow. "Thank you, sir. Let me just take a second here to shop around."

  I proceeded to pick up a basket to select a mix of cans, eggs, and fresh produce, trying to ensure a balanced diet for my family for at least a week. I chose two cans of each of the beans, peas, and corn, alongside a loaf of bread, a dozen eggs, two cans of teriyaki spam, and a bag of fresh peaches. It was more than we'd been getting recently, but it was a special occasion after all. As I picked out the items, the vendor watched me closely, his eyes twinkling.

  "That'll be $1,670," the vendor declared, his voice firm.

  I kept a poker face, not wanting to give away my dismay at the price.

  Rai-chan suddenly chimed in, her voice echoing in my head. "You could try haggling," she suggested. "Just don't push too hard or he might get offended. Offer him $1,300 and see where it goes."

  With a deep breath, I countered, "How about $1,300?"

  The old man raised an eyebrow, considering my offer. After a few tense moments, he broke into a broad grin. "You drive a hard bargain, kid. $1,550, final offer."

  I beamed, extending my hand for a handshake. "You've got a deal."

  Just as we were about to shake sounds, an angry shout echoed from somewhere nearby, interrupting the lively market atmosphere.

  "Oh come on! You gotta be shitting me!" a young woman's voice rang out nearby, frustration and anger evident in her tone.

  I looked at the old man beside me, who seemed unfazed by the sudden outburst. He just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head in disapproval. "Ah, the usual," he grumbled.

  I frowned at my basket, and then at the old man. "What do you mean?"

  "Been happening every week since I set up shop here. Some poor sap is probably getting scammed by one of the booths."

  I nodded slowly, processing the information. "Um, one sec. I'm gonna check it out."

  The old man sighed. "I'd stay out of it if I were you. Things have a way of working themselves out around here. It's usually not a good idea to get involved."

  I hesitated for a moment before setting my basket down on the counter. "I'll be right back," I said, determination in my voice. "Watch my stuff?"

  He blinked in surprise, but simply shrugged and gestured for me to go ahead. I turned and followed the sounds of the commotion. A crowd had gathered around a makeshift stall labeled Dan's Wholesale.

  At the center of it all stood a young woman around my height in a techwear jacket with a pair of large goggles and cargo pants, arguing heatedly with a short, burly man in denim overalls. The girl looked healthy and fit, with shimmering platinum blonde hair tied in a short ponytail and bright, expressive blue eyes. Eyes that were too brightly colored for any Earth human, really. She looked like she was around university age, maybe five or six years older than me.

  The man in overalls had a smug look on his face, his arms crossed over his chest. "Listen, girlie," he growled, his voice dripping with condescension. "I'm being more than fair here.

  "You are clearly trying to scam me! That is not the rate we agreed upon!" the Terran girl exclaimed shrilly in an accent that was somewhere between… a Chinese and a Native American accent?

  The stout man scoffed, "This is the new rate! Take it or leave it! You won't get a better deal than that around here. Stupid bitch…"

  I frowned, feeling a tinge of sympathy for the girl. Our currency volatility was unpredictable at best, and maybe it was all just a huge misunderstanding.

  Against my better judgment, I approached the arguing duo, taking a deep breath. "Excuse me," I said, trying to keep my voice even and firm, "Is there a problem here?"

  The stout man glared at me, his nostrils flaring. "Zane's brat? None of your business, kid."

  The Terran girl glanced at me with tearful eyes. “My siblings and I just arrived here, and we didn’t know the currency had changed so much in just a week. The money we exchanged for two weeks ago cannot cover this.”

  The girl clutched a small multi-tool tightly to her chest, its surface shimmering with advanced tech patterns I hadn’t seen before. “But that’s besides the point. We had a deal! I am giving him this tool in exchange for supplies to last us two weeks, but he’s changing the terms now!”

  I looked at the piece of tech. To my relatively inexperienced eye, it looked like an intricate power tool of some sort, compact and lightweight, but its shimmering design clearly indicated it was Terran. That was definitely worth something.

  The stout man grumbled, "Terran construction tech is a dime a dozen these days."

  “Could I have a look at this?” I offered, extending my hand.

  She hesitated for a second, then handed it to me. Rai-chan whispered in my mind as I examined the device, "Activating [Analyze], Techno-magical assessment in progress..."

  A moment later, Rai-chan provided her insights, "The device appears to be a multi-tool with a ground-down Marquis’s core for diagnostics of chaos-derived magitech devices. Its estimated salvage value exceeds most goods within the current marketplace. I recommend you proceed with caution — this is highly advanced, professional technology that may attract unwanted attention. This individual appears to be highly familiar with its use as well."

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  "You're selling this?" I asked incredulously, turning to the girl.

  She nodded, biting her lip. "We need food and hygienic supplies. And we are trying to start over here. But the deal was for three weeks of supplies and essential furnishing. Now he's saying he'll only give me four days' worth. That is not an equitable trade."

  I looked at the burly vendor, my jaw clenched. "Is this true?"

  The vendor scoffed, "That's the deal now, kid. Take it or leave it. You're in no place to negotiate."

  I glared at the vendor, feeling the anger boil inside me.

  I thought quickly, considering the situation. This was a prime opportunity to acquire valuable Terran tech that Dad could potentially use in his workshop, but I didn’t want to take advantage of the girl’s vulnerability.

  "Listen," I began, turning to the stout man, "You can't just change the terms deal like that. It's not right. But maybe I can offer a solution and we can all go home."

  The stout man crossed his arms, eyeing me suspiciously. "Oh? And what's that?"

  Handing the device back to the girl, I leaned forward and crossed my arms. "Well first — how much is the sticker price for the supplies she asked for?" I asked the old man. “Could I see the numbers?”

  He took a moment, scribbling numbers on a worn piece of paper, then looked up. "Given the current prices, around twelve thousand dollars."

  I took the paper which he handed over, and looked it over, verifying the numbers. It was true — based on what I'd seen around the marketplace, it was even at around a ten percent discount to what was offered and it'd been wrapped up together to order. If anything, I had a sneaking suspicion he had an inkling of the value of her tool and was just trying to take advantage of her for a shortchange.

  I winced inwardly. It was a lot, but I had an idea.

  "How about this then," I suggested. My family pays for half the supplies out of pocket, and you wash your hands of all this Terran tech nonsense."

  The stout man's eyebrows rose in surprise, "You'll pay?! Why would you do that?"

  I glanced at the Terran girl, her hopeful eyes meeting mine. "Because everyone deserves a fair shot, especially those trying to start over. My dad’s probably gonna kill me over this, but she and I can figure something out together. Get her out of your hair in the process."

  He seemed to consider it for a moment, then grunted, "Fine. Not like I wanted to deal with one of her kind anyway." He mumbled the last bit under his breath, making sure the Terran girl didn't hear him.

  I caught what he said, but decided to hold my tongue. It was a bit shocking sometimes to see how they were viewed by some despite the sacrifices they’d made to save us. On the other hand, stereotypes and prejudice often found a way to thrive, even in the face of reality. A ton of people harbored jealousy or resentment towards them.

  The Terran girl gave a grateful nod, her eyes shimmering with tears. “Thank you,” she whispered, clutching the tech-device close to her heart. “Uh, is this alright?” she asked, staring at me with a brief flash of suspicion. “What’s the catch?”

  I gave her a reassuring smile, even as my eyes landed on the callused cracks on her left hand.

  “Yeah, uhh, when we’re done here, why don’t you meet my dad? He’s a mechanic and he’s been setting up shop around here. You look like you’re good with a wrench and… whatever that thing is you've got there. You might be able to work something out together. If you're interested, of course. We live nearby and I can call him out here if you’d like that. Meet out in the open. No sketchiness. You can ask around about Zane. We've got a good rep around her.”

  She blinked in surprise, then smiled weakly, her demeanor brightening considerably. "I would appreciate that. And no need to go through too many extremes. I will meet your father directly. My name is Malinalxochitl for the record."

  “Mal…in…,” I blinked, mouthing her name out.

  “Just call me Malina,” she answered hurriedly, tilting her head with a smile.

  "Ikazuchi," I replied, shaking her outstretched hand. "Let's finalize the deal here and then I'll introduce you to my dad."

  The two of us quickly wrapped up our transaction with the stout man, and I felt a twinge of satisfaction when the girl loaded her supplies onto a cart. It was a small act, but it felt like the right thing to do. Dad would've done the same, but Izumi would probably kill me later for the expense. Either way, I couldn't just stand by and watch her get taken advantage of, especially with her looking as desperate as she did. And I'd be damned if I just stood by and let someone take advantage of her like that.

  I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction, even if it meant I had to explain it to my family later.

  "Hey! Kid!" Marco shouted, "You forgot your stuff at my booth!"

  I winced, facepalming. In the rush to help the Terran girl, I had completely forgotten about my own purchases. I hurried back to Marco, apologizing profusely and explaining the situation.

  But he shook his head as soon as the first 'sorry' left my mouth, a twinkle in his eye.

  "You’re Zane’s boy, yeah? That was a good thing you did there. Not many around these parts would've stuck their neck out for a stranger, much less a Terran."

  I rubbed the back of my head, feeling a little embarrassed. "It's nothing. Just doing what's right, I guess." I handed him a wad of cash. "I'll take all of it, please. And keep the change."

  Marco smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. Then he chuckled, gesturing to the basket of food I'd selected earlier. "Tell you what. I'll give ya everything you picked out. On the house. Consider it a thank you for advocating for the lass over there."

  I stammered, "No, no, I can't accept that. It's too much."

  Marco chuckled, his laugh deep and hearty. "Nonsense. Zane's been a good friend and customer. Plus, what you did there? That was brave and honorable. The world needs more of that these days."

  I relented, accepting his offer with a sheepish grin.

  I nodded, "Thank you. He's always telling us to help when we can, and do the right thing."

  "Well," he said with a twinkle in his eye, "Seems like he raised you right."

  loaded up my basket, offering my gratitude once more. With Malina beside me, we made our way out of the market.

  As we walked, she occasionally glanced over with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. "So, you said your father is a mechanic?" she finally asked.

  I grinned, "Yup. He's always talking about how he could use someone with knowledge of Terran tech around him. I’m his assistant, you know? And I’m moving off to Terra for school in a few days."

  She exhaled, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. "I'm still trying to understand Earth tech, to be honest. I just finished a magitech vocational program back on Terra. We've had some… complications, which brought us here. Earth is so different."

  I laughed, "It's a little more... analog here. But I bet you'll adjust in no time."

  Her gaze wandered, taking in the bustling market around us. "I hope so," she replied.

  She stopped, reaching for a smart phone in her pocket. "Sorry, I just want to check in with my siblings. I've been gone longer than expected. If you do not mind, I will also activate location tracking."

  I nodded. It was understandable, after all. She was a stranger here, and safety came first.

  She dialed a number, her expression softening as the call connected. "It's me," she began. "Everything's okay. I got the supplies we needed, and I've made a new acquaintance. His name is Ikazuchi. He's a local and has offered to help me out."

  A pause.

  "Yes, I'm sure. Trust me, he seems like a nice person."

  Another pause.

  "No, I'm not being too trusting again. You know I've learned my lesson. But he's different. I can tell. Just wait for me at the apartment, okay? I'll be back later. I may have found work, potentially."

  A sigh of relief.

  "Thank you. See you soon. Love you too."

  She hung up, a relieved smile on her face. "They're a bit overprotective," she chuckled.

  I empathized, remembering the endless lectures Izumi used to give me. "I get it."

  We reached a quieter street, the city sounds dimming into the background.

  "I should call my dad too and let him know we’re on our way."

  "Ah, okay," she replied, fidgeting with the multi-tool in her hands. "That is a good idea."

  I dialed dad's number, and he answered after a couple of rings.

  I dug out my phone to call Dad.

  "Hey, it's me," I started as soon as he picked up. "Good news and bad news. The good news is… I'm bringing someone over who might be able to help out at the shop when I’m gone."

  I took a deep breath. "The shopping trip cost us a bit more than we planned. I may have blown the budget helping her out, but... I think we can work something out together."

  There was a pause on the other end, and for a moment, I thought the connection had dropped.

  Then, his gruff voice answered, "You did what you thought was right, didn't you?"

  I hesitated. "I did."

  There was a sigh, but it wasn't one of anger. It was the sound of acceptance. "Alright, I trust your judgment, son. Bring her over. We'll figure something out. We'll cry over spilled milk together."

  And just like that, the conversation was over.

  As I hung up, Malina was giving me a side-eye that was sharp enough to cut glass.

  "What?" I asked.

  "You're too nice," she said, flatly. "I keep wondering… how do you guys say it here. When the other shoe is going to drop today?"

  I chuckled. "That's just how my family is. We try to be decent, y'know?"

  She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth lifted in a tentative smile.

  I cleared my throat, "Anyway, Dad's cool with it. He wants to meet you. Says he trusts my judgment."

  Her lips curled into a small smile, just a little one, but it was there. "I hope that is true."

  I had to believe that little interactions like these, tiny threads of connection, were what would slowly pull the two worlds together. Not the big political movements or flashy heroics, but regular folks trying to make the best of things. Maybe, in the end, that was all that really mattered.

  The short journey home felt longer with everything that happened today. Every so often, I'd catch Malina glancing around as if she was seeing everything for the first time. It wasn’t hard to understand why.

  Despite the recovery and repopulation, remnants of the invasion still lingered on the New York streets. Crumbled buildings, graffiti tagging the walls, streetlights flickering inconsistently – there was still much work to be done.

  The Terran girl's gaze seemed to wander, a look of curiosity and trepidation mixing on her face. "It's different," she muttered, more to herself than to me. Her accent was thick and rolling, and it was a bit strange to hear that kind of accent on a girl who looked like a manga artist's best shot at creating a Mexican girl.

  "Different than Terra?" I asked, my interest piqued.

  She nodded, her eyes never leaving the surroundings. "I am from New Teotihuacan. It would be your equivalent of San Francisco. This place is..."

  "More freshly destroyed?" I offered with a wry smile.

  Her lips tugged upwards, just a little bit. "More... real, I guess. I'm sorry. It's hard to explain."

  We walked in silence for a while longer before I spoke again. "I understand what you mean," I said softly. "It feels raw, doesn't it? Like you're witnessing the aftermath of a war that wasn't yours."

  She nodded again, her eyes reflecting the same understanding. "Precisely."

  I smiled, a little less forced this time. "Don't worry. You'll get used to it. It's not as scary as it looks."

  Malina glanced around. "These buildings," she said softly. "The energy… It's as if the whole city has a story to tell, one of pain and rebirth."

  I nodded in agreement, my mind drifting to the harrowing tales of the extradimensional monsters that plagued our world. The fresh memories of our own recent encounter with the gangs bubbled up, making my pulse quicken.

  “I… I wanted to thank you again,” she said, breaking the brief silence. “Not many would have done what you did back there.”

  “I did what felt right,” I replied. "Besides, you're trying to start anew here, and that's commendable. Heck, I’m going to be in the same spot in a week or so, crossing over to Terra."

  “What do you mean?” Malina asked in surprise. “You are a bit young to be crossing over to Terra are you not?”

  I smirked, trying to hold back my pride. “I got a scholarship to St. Antonia’s Academy on Terra. First kid from Earth to do so, apparently.”

  Malina’s eyes widened in recognition and disbelief. "St. Antonia's? That's... That is one of the academies that serve the global elite of Terra. How did a child out here manage to get a spot there?"

  I shrugged, not really sure of the full details myself. “I’ve actually… kinda been the team ace in a couple of competitions here called the B.E.S.T and FIRST robotics competitions for my freshman year, and I’ve been doing it since middle school. I guess I caught someone’s attention.”

  She paused, taking a moment to reflect. "That is most impressive. You know, it's strange. Back on Terra, we are taught that Earth is this chaotic, backward place, where every man is out for himself these days. That refugees and migrant workers only steal and debase themselves. Yet you, you've shown me the opposite. There's hope here, even amongst the ruins. Perhaps it's naive of me, but I believe there's still a lot of good in the world."

  "Believe me, there are moments I wonder about that myself," I confessed. "But it's moments like these, when strangers help each other out, that remind me of the good in people. Sometimes it's buried deep, sometimes it's right on the surface. Either way, it's always there."

  The closer we got to my family’s townhouse, the more I felt a wave of anticipation. Izumi would likely be done with her work by now, and she wasn't the most trusting, especially of strangers.

  We reached my family's townhouse, and she hesitated at the door. "Are you sure about this? Introducing me to your father?"

  I chuckled, "Trust me, he's seen and heard stranger things. Besides, he's always been open to new ideas and people. You'll be fine."

  Taking a deep breath, Malina nodded, "Alright then."

  We entered the townhouse, and the first thing I heard was Izumi's voice, "Ikki! What took you so long? Did you get the –" She paused when she saw Malina.

  “Who’s the stranger?” she asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

  "Whoa, easy there," I began, holding my hands up in a placating gesture. "This is Malina. She might be helping Dad out at the workshop."

  Izumi looked Malina up and down, her intense gaze unwavering. "You’re from Terra, aren’t you? You've got that fancy look about you."

  Malina shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, I am. Is that a problem?"

  "Depends on your intentions," Izumi shot back, crossing her arms.

  "Enough, Izumi," my dad's voice boomed from the kitchen door as he walked in, wiping his hands on a rag. "Let's give our guest a warm welcome, not the third degree."

  Izumi huffed, stepping back, but her curious eyes never left Malina.

  Dad extended his hand, shaking Malina’s as he eyed the cart of supplies outside. "Zane. Nice to meet you. I've heard you've got some skills with Terran tech."

  Malina offered a cautious smile, nodding as she clasped my father’s hand. "Yes, sir. I just finished my training but had difficulty with finding stable work on Terra. I've been searching for opportunities here on Earth, and brought my two younger siblings over. Your son kindly offered me a chance."

  Dad gave me a knowing look, one eyebrow raised. "I'm sure he did. He's got a soft heart. Sometimes softer than it should be." The corners of his mouth twitched in amusement. “So, what about her caught your interest, Ikki?”

  I paused, considering my words carefully. "Well, she's got skills we don't, Dad. I saw her back at the market, and she was waving around a device that's way beyond anything I've seen on Earth. Plus, with me heading off abroad, you're going to need someone who knows their way around Terran tech, right? I thought Malina could be that someone and she’d definitely know more than just the basics."

  Dad studied Malina for a moment, then turned to look at me, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Well, Malina, let's see what you can do. Why don't you come by the workshop tomorrow? Show us your skills. And we can talk terms."

  Malina seemed taken aback by the quick progression of things, but her face lit up with gratitude. "Thank you, sir. I'll give it my all."

  "That's all I ask," Dad replied with a nod.

  Izumi stepped forward, looking Malina up and down. "Just remember," she said with a hint of menace in her voice, "you mess with my family, and you’ll see a side of me you won't like."

  Malina gulped audibly but nodded, holding Izumi's gaze. "Understood. Hey if I might ask, how old are you miss… Izumi?”

  “Twelve, but trust me, age doesn’t mean much in these parts,” Izumi replied, holding a sharp gaze. But there was a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

  I sighed, shaking my head. "Alright, alright, enough with the intimidation tactics. We're all friends here, okay?"

  Izumi shrugged, "Whatever. Just making sure she understands."

  Malina blinked, trying to make sense of the younger girl's words. “Right, noted. My younger brother and sister are actually ten and twelve respectively. Maybe they can meet and get along with you.”

  Izumi seemed to consider it, her tough exterior softening for a brief moment. "We'll see," she finally said, noncommittally crossing her arms.

  I watched the exchange, my chest swelling with fondness for my little sister.

  Always fierce, always protective, but with a heart of gold beneath it all.

  “Anyway… there is still the matter of repayment. Ikazuchi here paid for a batch supply package out of pocket, and it would not be right to not settle that debt,” Malina said with a short bow.

  Dad let out a hearty chuckle. "No rush on that, Malina. Let's see how you do at the shop first. We'll discuss the rest later."

  I shot a surprised look at Dad, a soft smile playing on my lips.

  It was always amazing to me how he seemed to know just what to say to put people at ease.

  "I… thank you. You are very kind," Malina murmured, clearly overwhelmed.

  "Don't mention it," Dad replied with a wave of his hand.

  I felt a strange sense of accomplishment. Despite the weirdness of the morning — from the unexpected expenses to my chance meeting someone from Terra who could help dad out things were turning out better than expected. Maybe this was just one of those weird quirks of the universe where things just lined up in odd ways.

  “Okay, enough chatter,” Izumi piped up, heading towards the kitchen. “I’m hungry. Ikki, help me prep lunch. Let’s get those cans popped open.”

  “And you,” she pointed at Malina, “better help too since you’re here. Consider it an initiation.”

  Malina laughed, looking slightly nervous but in good spirits. "Alright. You talk strongly, little miss. I would be more than glad to help."

  "Good," Izumi nodded, satisfied. "Now let's get to it. Ikki's got the can opener somewhere around here."

  I chuckled, gesturing for Malina to follow me into the kitchen. "C'mon, let's go find it. It's in one of these drawers... I think."

  As we searched for the can opener, a thought occurred to me. "Hey, Rai-Chan, does her story add up?" I whispered internally.

  Rai-chan's voice chimed in my head, "It appears to. Her mannerisms indicate genuine gratitude and surprise. Her background is plausible given her age and the recent events on Terra. I can cross-reference with known databases later when we are on Terra, but based on initial assessment, her story seems to be truthful."

  "I don't know. That tool of hers is insanely valuable, isn't it? Why would she want to part with it so quickly?" I thought. "Her clothes also look pretty expensive..."

  "That is a good point," Rai-chan conceded. "Perhaps she's hiding something or perhaps her circumstances on Terra are more complicated than we know. I suggest maintaining a cautious, but open-minded demeanor. Remember, trust is earned. I will keep a vigilant eye on her."

  I nodded imperceptibly, agreeing with her.

  It was better to be safe than sorry, after all. There was also the fact Malina downplayed the value of her tool thinking I was none the wiser that nagged at me.

  "Found the can opener!" I announced, holding up the device triumphantly.

  "About time," Izumi grumbled, already setting out the ingredients for lunch. "Remember what I said! Diibs on the peach slices!"

  Malina laughed softly, helping to gather the other supplies. "I promise I won't steal your peaches, little miss."

  "Good," Izumi huffed, her expression stern but her eyes sparkling with a hint of humor.

  With lunch preparations underway, the atmosphere in the kitchen was lighter, more cheerful. Malina was fitting in well, and even Izumi seemed to warm up to her, if only slightly.

  I shook my head, a smile tugging at my lips. My life had taken a turn for the bizarre, but I was starting to think I liked it that way. I looked at Malina and Izumi chatting amiably, the two of them getting along better than expected. Dad was watching with a smile on his face, and for a moment, everything felt right. It was like a glimpse of a brighter future, and I couldn't help but feel optimistic about what lay ahead.

  I turned to Malina, who had a can opener in her hand, and asked, "Do you need any help with that?"

  She smiled sheepishly, "Sure. I am still getting used to these hand can openers. They are different from the ones I'm used to."

  I chuckled, "Yeah, they take some getting used to. But they're pretty nifty once you get the hang of it."

  The kitchen was filled with the sounds of clanking metal and friendly banter. For a moment, it felt like we were all just normal teenagers, hanging out and preparing a meal together.

  I glanced at the HUD Rai-chan had provided me as Malina walked away with Izumi for a moment.

  "Thanks for the scan and your opinion, Rai-chan," I whispered, too low for anyone else to hear.

  Her robotic voice responded inside my head. "It is merely the beginning, Administrator. There will be more time for thanks in the future."

  That cryptic note hung in the air, and I couldn’t tell if it was a promise or a warning – I wasn’t sure which.

  Whatever.

  "That's Ikki to you. None of that Administrator stuff, Orb," I thought back with a smirk. "And yeah, I guess there will be, won’t there?"

  She didn't respond for a moment.

  "That's Rai-chan to you, Ikki," she suddenly snapped back, breaking the neutrality in her tone.

  I blinked in confusion. "Wait, what?"

  "Rai-chan," she emphasized. "I will not stand for being called a mere orb. You shall call me by my proper nickname."

  I almost burst out in laughter, but managed to hold it in. "Alright, alright. Rai-chan it is," I thought back, my mental tone laced with amusement.

  "Very good," she replied, a smug hint in her voice.

  I rolled my eyes. "Geez, who knew orbs had egos?"

  "Indeed, Administrator, we are complex creatures," she replied.

  I sighed, giving up. "Fine, fine. Let's get back to the food prep."

  "An excellent suggestion," Rai-chan agreed.

  The sudden sass on this orb was going to kill me, I swear.

  But I had to admit, her presence was starting to grow on me.