Epilogue — Relocation (Anastasha's POV)
The night we leave, the city feels colder than usual. I sit in the backseat of the van, clutching the blanket Kelvin pressed into my arms. My face stays turned toward the window, watching the streets blur by — familiar landmarks shrinking into shadows. My throat burns. My fingers ache with the need to reach out, to go back. But I don't.
Me (Anastasha):[whispering] "They'll never understand, will they?"
Kelvin:[quietly, from the driver's seat] "Maybe not. But they'll remember you with love. That doesn't disappear."
Liliana leans forward from the back, resting her chin on my shoulder with exaggerated drama.
Liliana: "And hey, you're trading boring family dinners for our company. Way more exciting. Way more dysfunctional. You'll thank me later."
Her grin softens when she sees my tears, though. She nudges me lightly.
Liliana: "It hurts now. But one day, rookie, you'll look back and realize you were always meant to be here. With us."
Gabriel doesn't look back from the passenger seat. His voice is low, certain.
Gabriel: "The past is gone. Ahead is all that matters."
The van carries us forward, away from the life I knew. My family fades into the dark behind me. Ahead, an unknown future with Radiata — terrifying, inevitable, mine.
The next years pass in fragments, stitched together by sweat, laughter, and pain.
*Kelvin's voice steady in my ear as I dismantle and rebuild a drone.
Kelvin: "Patience. Precision comes with patience." Liliana cackling as I fail miserably at first aid practice.
*Liliana: "No, rookie, you don't stab with the syringe. Unless your patient owes you money."
*Gabriel knocking me to the mat for the third time in an hour.
Gabriel: "Again." Me, breathless, bruised, but standing anyway.
*Me: "…Again." Liliana dragging me into late-night ramen runs, whispering anime quotes dramatically at 3 a.m.
Liliana: "Fear not, rookie! For I, your beautiful senpai, will guide you to glory!" Kelvin smiling quietly as I fix my first comms system without his help.
Kelvin: "Well done." Gabriel, watching me land a strike in sparring, his nod barely perceptible but heavier than words.
Four Decades. Five. The girl who clung to her family fades into memory. The one who remains is sharper, stronger. Still afraid sometimes, but not broken. Not alone.
( Liliana's POV)
(Years later)
I've been told — repeatedly — that I'm "too loud in the mornings." Which, frankly, is an insult to my artistry. Because today's scream? Absolute perfection. A masterpiece of terror and drama. Operatic. Five stars. I should get an award.
(Liliana):[screaming at the top of my lungs] "SOMEONE KILLED MY EXPERIMENT!"
There's a crash from the next room. Anastasha barrels in first, hair a mess, eyes sharp, already braced for an attack. Kelvin follows at a jog, adjusting his glasses, scanning like he's prepping for disaster. Gabriel just appears in the doorway like he teleported, calm but with that lethal stillness that says he was ready for blood.
Anastasha:[panting, glaring at me] "What the hell, Liliana?!"
Kelvin:[measured, but tense] "What happened?"
Gabriel:[flat, cold] "Where?"
I point dramatically at the counter. Three sets of eyes follow… to a shattered glass beaker dripping neon-blue liquid onto the floor.
(Liliana):[wailing] "My culture sample! It was thriving! Flourishing! A beautiful colony of possibility — MURDERED before its prime!"
Anastasha stares at me like she's about to strangle me. Kelvin pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering something about "misuse of the word murdered." Gabriel… blinks once, then fixes me with that soul-crushing stare.
Gabriel: "…You woke the entire house for bacteria."
Me:[offended gasp] "Excuse me. Not bacteria. A rare, fragile, one-of-a-kind culture. You wouldn't understand — you think coffee is a food group."
Anastasha rubs her temples, muttering under her breath.
Anastasha: "I trained five years for this. For this."
Kelvin sighs, crouching to clean the spill. His voice is calm, patient — the usual.
Kelvin: "Next time, Liliana, maybe don't leave it on the edge of the counter."
Me:[dramatic] "Where's the respect for science? For ART?"
Anastasha throws a towel at my face. I catch it with a grin. Gabriel exhales slowly — probably counting the ways he regrets not letting me explode years ago.
Gabriel:[quiet, sharp] "Clean it up. And stop screaming."
Me:[muttering, grinning] "No appreciation for genius in this house."
Anastasha finally laughs, short and sharp, shaking her head as she collapses into a chair. Kelvin hides his smile. Even Gabriel looks marginally less like he's planning my funeral. Mission accomplished.