Simple. It was the lack of awareness.
Maybe this was what the earliest ancient humans felt like when they had no idea that sothing called oxygen existed.
It was there—vital, all around them—but they just...didn’t know.
And right now, Ollie was that ancient human. Because he had gone from sunshine to soggy pudding in under ten minutes.
It wasn’t a sudden crash. More like a slow-motion collapse. A withering.
Luca noticed the drop in mood after they’d marveled at the miracle crop—that one that his father hadn’t managed to kill—and the trays upon trays of lettuce that would be ready for harvest soon. It was even from the aquaponics do that his brother had worked on with his own hands. So it should’ve been a celebratory mont.
And yet, Ollie’s steps lagged. His brightness dimd.
Luca, understandably alard, turned to his brother. "Brother, are you alright? Are you feeling sick? Or perhaps...are you hungry?"
"Oh, I’m alright, brother!" Ollie said.
Then imdiately sighed.
Luca blinked. "But brother, how can you be alright...when you’re like that?"
All un-Ollie-like.
The blonde hesitated, looked around, and leaned in. "It’s just...Rember when I told you about pining?"
Luca nodded solemnly. That had been a very bad day. Well, initially. But even now, he still rembers the feeling of that.
"Well," Ollie continued, his voice dropping, "I think I’m like that now. It’s too much. I saw him just a bit ago, but it’s like it wasn’t enough! I need more."
A sense of crisis blood in Luca’s chest. He understood.
"That’s not good, brother. Did you tell him?"
"Tell him?! But brother—it hasn’t even been a day! What if he thinks I’m crazy? Or too needy?" Ollie’s walk slowed until Luca had to practically tug him along like a lost balloon.
"I don’t think he’d react that way," Luca said carefully. "Xavier told that if sothing like this happens, it’s best to talk about it. That way, you can co up with solutions together."
"Solutions? Are there solutions for this?" Ollie asked like soone glimpsing forbidden magic.
Luca nodded; he also didn’t think there would be. However, he’d like to believe that he has been doing much better since those thods were implented and since he changed his mindset. "Yes. He helped . I used to feel like that too, but we figured out little ways to make it easier."
Ollie perked up. "Then, brother—what did you do?!"
Luca flushed. "Well...Xavier writes little notes."
"Notes?" Ollie tilted his head before the realization set in, calling for an all-encompassing gasp, "Are they threats to work faster?!"
"?!"
"What?! No! They’re encouraging notes! Things like ’Don’t forget to eat,’ or ’You’re doing amazing,’ or ’One hug-break later?’"
They were usually more than just that. Those handwritten letters could be found in his work area, and sotis they’d have words he couldn’t possibly share with others!
"Wait, seriously? He writes those?!" Ollie’s voice cracked.
Luca nodded. "Sotis even in Tessarian."
"Not threatening letters?"
"No. And... sotis he leaves his handkerchief with . Or we swap ties. Or he leaves things I can hold onto."
"Wow. Xavier allows that?"
The golden-eyed guide wasn’t sure why his brother thought that Xavier wouldn’t allow for such a thing when his husband was such a generous person who would even give the shirt off his back when needed.
But who could bla the little wife who thought the best of the suited wolf?
For if normal people like Kyle or Jax heard this, they would have checked themselves into the dical bay for upset stomachs. Because this would only be possible if you were nad Luca Soren Kyros. And last they heard, he was married to the grumpy prince.
"Mn. And well, there’s also the pictures, brother."
"Pictures?"
"Ah, yes!" Luca initially hesitated, but then pulled up his terminal and changed the permissions so that his brother could see.
Ollie looked.
And gawked.
"BROTHER. That’s—that’s XAVIER?!" he screeched, clutching Luca’s arm like he’d seen a ghost. Because in the photo was soone who clearly looked like Xavier, but had the expression of soone who couldn’t possibly be the sa guy.
"Why does he look... like that?!"
Luca simply smiled, thinking that Ollie also thought that Xavier was just impossibly handso, for he also had a similar reaction.
Ollie looked from the terminal to his brother in awe. "I—I’ll ask Kyle for one too!"
Maybe the impossibility of obtaining the photo was what made it so powerful!
He was fired up now. Determined.
But then Luca added thoughtfully, "Hmmm... but brother, if it’s about motivation, what actually helps the most is thinking that—if I can solve the problems quickly—then maybe Xavier won’t have to attend so many etings."
"...What?"
"If we fix the pilots and contamination issues," Luca explained, "then wouldn’t that an less work and more ti for other things?"
The blonde chanic stared.
He could feel his already skewed worldview tilting even more.
Was...was this what it ant to be a responsible partner?
More importantly, was it even possible to fix problems that spanned generations?
But this was Luca. His brother. If anyone could do it, it was him.
"Y-you’re right, brother," Ollie whispered, awestruck. "If we lessen the problems, then...then there’ll be more ti!"
Luca nodded.
"Then we should really go and fix them!" Ollie declared, fist clenched in fiery determination.
He had three minutes of ti now.
But by the gods, he would earn an hour.
Or so he thought.
Because by the ti he earned a minute of ti with Kyle, he would’ve lost ten years of his remaining lifespan.
He was right. It was a problem that was too difficult to solve. And while his brother seriously looked like he could, Ollie wasn’t Luca.
At best, he was his brother’s toenail.
Oh, but he was a happy toenail, especially after realizing that the cha Master Quinn was practically the big toe!
Thud!
The sound ca from one of the chanics who had fallen straight onto his butt.
His eyes were locked on a single number on the screen in front of him—Calibration Fidelity: 63%.
Gasps echoed through the workshop.
Honestly, that number alone could’ve triggered a parade. A 63% CF was sothing people would sell their limbs for. So auctions had brawls break out over 55% parts. And here? They were actually able to make one?
To the team who had only just started wrapping their heads around Luca’s polishing technique, this felt like enlightennt. Transcendence, even.
But that high didn’t last long.
Because just as they were about to rejoice at their teammate’s success, the heir to the house tapped on the side of another crate and opened it, preparing to store the parts he had previously made while everyone was in the middle of practicing.
But what spilled out of his inventory wasn’t just parts.
Well, they were, but to the chanics who saw it, they just couldn’t be placed in the sa category.
They might as well be heirlooms. A-grade, obviously polished—each gleaming with Calibration Fidelity of 80%. And it wasn’t just one with that value. They were all of it.
The part labels were small. But with enhanced eyes like theirs, who wouldn’t be able to see such staggering numbers?
Even cha Master Quinn, who had been observing with crossed arms and eternal dignity, clutched at his chest like he’d just witnessed the second coming of the divine schematic.
Ollie, anwhile, was vibrating.
Because he recognized that part.
He helped make it. As in the base part. The thing that his brother would then polish.
And yet it nearly broke him despite not even daring to polish.
"..."
But his thoughts took a backseat when Luca made an announcent, delivered with his usual cheerfulness that masked catastrophic consequences.
"We’ll all be learning how to make these."
The silence was instant. Total.
Ollie could hear the blood drain from his ears.
He could feel it.
No.
NO.
His stomach flipped, and he reached for sothing solid, anything, but all he got was the edge of a crate filled with despair.
"We’ll—what?!" soone finally croaked.
Luca, ever patient, nodded with a smile. "We’ll make chas using these, because I think we’d be able to give them the best we currently could if we produce and use quality parts."
One of the junior chanics whimpered. Another blessed himself. They were joyful.
Because they didn’t know.
But Ollie? Ollie was swaying on his feet, thinking of how much finesse it took to refine just one part to that level.
His fingers trembled.
And his soul quietly left his body.
The baseline was the upper limit.
He was going to die.
If he knew it would be like this, then maybe—just maybe—he should have said yes to Kyle’s generous offer of becoming a stay-at-ho wife if he ever got too tired.
He was tired.
He was very tired.
And they hadn’t even started.
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