"As far as I was concerned, Madam Cocolia’s order to arrest you sounded reasonable... but why didn’t she issue it straight away? She must have realized sothing about you... Sothing I haven’t yet been able to perceive for myself, and it bothers ..."
Sunny listened to Bronya’s words as he attempted to piece the puzzle together. Indeed, Cocolia’s thod must have seed extraordinarily illogical. As such, he was able to think of a single answer:
’She was gaining information from an outside source.’
That might have been what caused her to change her mind and try to arrest the aliens on Belobog. If she had a reliable informant that told her sothing about the three of them — although Sunny wouldn’t know what it could possibly be — then she might have felt justified in her actions, believing that she was working for the good of Belobog and it’s people.
Sunny expressed his suspicions to Bronya, who sat down on the steps in front of the Goethe Grand Hotel. She leaned into her hand as she pondered his words.
"Although that is certainly possible, I have nothing to confirm it. I’ve never seen the Supre Guardian conversing with suspicious individuals — nor have I seen any within Qlipoth Fort. I wouldn’t discredit that I might have missed such evidence. They would certainly be able to slip by if they were a part of the Silvermane Guards."
She paused for a mont as she changed the topic. There wouldn’t be much more they could figure out by continuing on this avenue — not without visible proof.
"In the past, Overworld soldiers on the front line would lose their lives in droves, and yet the Fragntum’s advance would remain unaffected. Nevertheless, that was her reason for deploying all the Silvermane Guards to the front line. The transport line for supplies and Geomarrow remained open, but the passage between the surface and the underground ceased. I approved of that decision..."
A worried expression appeared on her face as she frowned.
"I never thought that the Underworld would sink into such ruin without the Silvermane Guards... Perhaps mother was wrong... But how can I change her mind? I’ve tried, but she won’t listen. I don’t know how to get through to her..."
Sunny didn’t say anything as he thought about how he should reply to her. He didn’t know Cocolia better than Bronya, so he doubted that he could give her a good answer.
"What if you beco the Supre Guardian yourself? If you did, you wouldn’t even have to worry about convincing her."
It was the only idea he had.
Bronya stared blankly at him for a few seconds. Sunny suddenly coughed, continuing.
"I an, I just thought that it was sothing you could try. You’ll be the next Supre Guardian anyways, right? Until we find out what the issue with Cocolia is, that might be our best bet."
Staring at him for a mont, Bronya began to contemplate his words.
"I suppose I could... but then..."
After a full minute of silence, which was quite awkward for Sunny, Bronya groaned as she rubbed her temples.
"The more I think about it, the more disoriented I get, which in turn makes think about it even more... I just want a better life for the people of Belobog..."
Crossing his arms, Sunny tilted his head. Scowling to himself for a mont, he said:
"Well... if you stress yourself out too much, you’ll just end up as a burden. If I was in your situation, I’d be filling my stomach."
...Damn it, now he was hungry. He hadn’t eaten for over twelve hours, and had been fighting an extrely drawn-out battle earlier.
Bronya sighed.
"Maybe you’re right, or not. Right now I just... need more ti to think."
She looked up at Sunny from her seated position, studying him up and down for a mont. She sent him a knowing smile.
"Would you like to get sothing to eat? It’s late, but I’m sure there is sowhere we could go..."
"Yes, please!"
Sunny replied without hesitation. What a generous woman! She truly is fit to beco the Supre Guardian, providing for those in need despite her own dire situation.
All hail Bronya!
All hail Bronya!
All hail—
***
Sunny stared down at the fish, a heavy coat of jam glistening over the crisp, golden skin like a sticky layer of mischief. It looked absurd — like soone had spilled an entire jar of jam over what was supposed to be a delicate al. He didn’t even want to know what it tasted like, but, of course, he knew exactly what he’d do next.
He speared a piece of the fish, the jam clinging to it like it had no sha, and brought it to his mouth. The sweetness hit imdiately, rich and syrupy — strawberries, plums, sothing tangy, sothing almost... dangerous? What kind of bold person put that much jam on fish? His eyes narrowed as he chewed, the jam swirling with the salty fish, the crispy edges surrendering to the slick sweetness.
He thought about how utterly wrong it felt — how this was the kind of thing you’d never admit to people around you, but here he was, eating it with a kind of quiet resignation. Was it good? Aeons, it was. The fish and the jam, they didn’t belong together, yet sohow they just... did. How the hell did that happen? He shook his head, still chewing, and thought about how he’d probably have to pretend he didn’t like it, because liking this? That was borderline offensive.
Another bite. The sweetness clung to the fish’s saltiness, wrapping around it like so unwelco but irresistible lover. His mind raced for excuses — why he shouldn’t be enjoying this. But none ca.
’Damn it.’
Despite his thoughts, he could already feel his fork reaching for another piece.
At least there was nobody around to bare witness to this blasphemy.
"Why do you seem so embarrassed about eating this? It’s quite delectable..."
Sunny inhaled deeply at Bronya’s botherso question. Glaring at her as he chewed through another bite of this Snapper Jam Appetizer, he replied in an irked tone.
"Doesn’t this seem ridiculous to you? We are eating fish... that is literally drenched in jam! No matter how good it tastes, I must question the sanity of the madman who invented this consumable!"
Across from him, Bronya was savoring her own plate of the Snapper Jam Appetizer. Her pink lips — which were now slightly oily — were creased in a manner that revealed her attempt to stifle a laugh.
Considering that it was literally called an appetizer, Sunny feared what else was in store for him at this food stall. Where had they even gotten the fish from anyways? Wouldn’t all the masses of water be frozen by the Eternal Freeze?
A few minutes later, Sunny found a new plate in front of him — one that made his mouth water.
Sunny grasped the deep-fried crab with a steady, practiced hand, its golden shell gleaming under the street lights like a treasure pulled from the depths of the sea. The oil-slicked crust cracked as his fingers applied the slightest pressure, the brittle exoskeleton surrendering to his touch with a satisfying, almost audible snap. He tilted the crab to his lips, the fragrance of hot, seasoned batter wafting upwards, teasing his senses. The scent was rich — fried perfection mixed with the salty tang of the sea, sharp and seductive.
He bit down, and the first sensation was the crunch. A sharp, almost aggressive sound filled the air, the crisp batter splintering and breaking apart like a thousand tiny explosions. The heat of the fried exterior hit his tongue, a burst of oil, spice, and savory depth enveloping his mouth. Beneath the brittle surface, the tender at of the crab waited, plump and succulent.
As his teeth sank deeper, the contrast between the outer shell and the soft, delicate flesh inside was remarkable — a symphony of textures, each bite a dance between hard and soft, hot and cold. He chewed deliberately, his jaw working in slow, deliberate movents that allowed him to savor every nuanced layer of flavor. The delicate sweetness of the crab at blossod on his tongue, complented by the tang of a secret spice blend hidden within the batter. Each chew was a mont of indulgence, as though ti itself slowed to accommodate the experience.
The crispy shell broke away, flaking into tiny fragnts that scattered across the plate in a delicate, scattered pattern, but not a single crumb dared to fall from his fingers. The deep-fried coating dissolved quickly, leaving only the tender, succulent crab at, which he pulled from its shell with an almost ditative grace, plucking each piece like it was a rare jewel.
With each successive bite, his movents beca more languid, more sensual. The rhythm of the process was hypnotic, as if the act of eating had transcended its basic purpose and beco sothing artful — each bite a slow, indulgent mont that begged to be drawn out, to be savored like the finest of wines.
When the crab was nothing but empty shell, Sunny took a final mont to lick his fingers, drawing the last remnants of batter into his mouth with a flick of his tongue. The taste lingered on his lips, an echo of richness that stayed with him long after the plate was empty, the satisfaction of it all almost too much to bear.
Tears welled up in his eyes, drawing a startled jolt from Bronya. He stared at his hands with a lancholic, deep, yet ecstatic smile on his face. One that conveyed a multitude of indescribable emotions — so that were negative, and so that were unquestionably positive. Sunny deeply breathed in through his nose, exhaling a raspy breath through the mouth — the sa mouth he had just experienced true bliss with.
Sunny was glad that he wasn’t in the outskirts of Earth’s cities anymore. Now... now he would live a life of pure indulgence and luxury, hedonism and pleasure. No more synthesized slop for his refined tastebuds to consu, for they have achieved a higher plane of existence. He felt a strong envious desire within him, as he realized that there were people out there that lived like this since birth, experiencing the joys that the world kept from him all this ti.
Yet, despite this, Sunny felt an insurmountable feeling of satisfaction. After all, he had bled, cried, and fought for this, while others couldn’t comprehend the worth of sothing as simple as good food. He was naturally superior to those that were spoiled by the world, as he would be able to enjoy such delicacies more than they ever could.
’Ah... I see what I must do.’
At first, Sunny’s desire to save Belobog was simply because of the grudge he harbored in his heart, as well as the fact that he had promised Seele that he would help. But now, he had sothing at stake.
If Belobog freezes over, how would he experience such explosive flavors again? Sure, he may be able to consu sothing from another planet, and it might even be better than the fried crab he had just eaten — which he was still confused about the procurent of — but it wouldn’t be the sa.
With a determined expression on his face, Sunny ordered one more dish.
Sunny leaned in, eyeing the towering iceberg of Rye Bread Soda Ice before him, its frosty exterior gleaming under the lights that lined the Underworld streets. The layers of ice — solid, translucent — ford a delicate yet jagged structure, crowned with a soft dollop of Moo-Moo yogurt perched on top like a cloud. The dark, amber hue of Rye Bread Soda swirled beneath the surface, hinting at its rich, wheat-flavored depths. The entire formation was a cold, tantalizing monunt to sweetness, just waiting to be broken into.
He picked up his spoon, the handle cool against his fingers, and, with an almost ceremonious air, dug it into the iceberg. The spoon broke through the dense, icy layers with a satisfying crunch, releasing a flurry of frozen shards. The ice crackled, its sharp edges glinting as the spoon sunk deeper into the frozen mound. He scooped up a generous portion, the pale yogurt perfectly mingling with the dark, soda-infused ice, giving him the first taste of the complex creation.
The first bite was a slow, deliberate affair. The ice was sharp and crisp against his teeth, yet it imdiately gave way to the soft, creamy sweetness of the Moo-Moo yogurt. The combination was unexpectedly refreshing, the cold ice lting almost instantly, leaving behind the faint, earthy taste of rye — a subtle, wheaty essence that was both satisfying and nourishing. As the yogurt blended with the ice, it carried a hint of tang, but that llowed quickly, giving way to the deep, grainy flavor of the rye soda that lingered like a soft whisper.
Sunny took another bite, this ti scraping the spoon across the iceberg’s surface with a slight flourish, sending more shards tumbling. The ice, now a bit more fragile from the repeated spoons, broke apart effortlessly, revealing more of the dark, wheat-flavored ice beneath. Each bite was a delicate balance — refreshing and cold, yet richly layered with the comforting flavors of rye bread and sweet, creamy yogurt. The combination was smooth and indulgent, almost decadent, but light enough to keep him going for more.
As he savored each bite, the ice continued to lt, the contrasting textures of the cold, crystalline ice and creamy yogurt creating a perfectly balanced experience. He scooped with purpose, taking his ti, letting the sweetness of the yogurt coat his tongue before the deep, slightly tangy undertones of the rye bread soda slid over him. The ice beca increasingly delicate, each spoonful dissolving quicker than the last, but leaving behind a lingering sense of satisfaction, like the aftertaste of a well-baked loaf of bread, sweetened just enough to tempt him into another indulgent bite.
When the iceberg was finally reduced to a small mound of scattered ice and creamy remnants, Sunny paused. He rested his spoon, his fingers lightly dusted with the lting shards of rye and yogurt. The last traces of the snack lingered on his lips, a final, fleeting taste of sweetness and wheat. He smiled, a quiet satisfaction on his face, as if he had just tasted sothing secret, sothing uniquely fulfilling.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t a secret, as Bronya was staring at him the whole ti.
How impolite of her.
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