“I’ll think about it,” Meteora promised indecisively, the comforting familiarity of his lab already helping him relax.

  With Tori’s permission, he had converted the space into a modest studio apartment now that he was a freshman. It was functional, quiet, and—most importantly—his. Unfortunately, the massive pile of raw Aetherium Ore stacked nearby instantly reminded him of the headache that was his practical class, a problem he had yet to make any real progress on. He groaned softly in discontent.

  Seris and Elowen settled into their usual places. Seris lounged lazily across the couch, boots kicked off without a care, while Elowen sat primly near the bookcase, already reaching for a volume to read.

  “You know, Meo…” Seris began lightly, concern flickering in his eyes.

  Elowen shot him a sharp look.

  Seris immediately shut up.

  Meteora sighed and sat down at his work desk, resting his head in his arms as he stared at the ore pile.

  “It’s so loud in the foundry workshop,” he muttered. “And I have to babysit everything. And everyone keeps trying to talk to me just to get closer to you two…”

  Seris giggled. “Well, it’s either that or getting buried alive by…” He squinted at the ore. “How much raw Aetherium is that now?”

  “Ugh… this isn’t even all of it,” Meteora groaned. “I’ve got around five tons between here and the warehouse they assigned me.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Elowen hummed thoughtfully.

  “If only I had something that made the space feel nicer to nap in,” Meteora yawned. “Like… a fountain. Something that sounds like the ocean…”

  He froze.

  Then bolted upright.

  Elowen noticed immediately, tilting her head. “You have an idea?” she asked calmly, eyes sharpening with interest.

  Seris sat up at once. “Oh? Do we get to see another Meteora genius moment?” he asked excitedly. “Like when you sass-talked Tori into letting you live here?”

  Meteora nodded, already turning back to his desk. “Not only did I figure out how to make this place cozier,” he said evenly, “I figured out my practical issue too.”

  He began typing rapidly on his holo-computer, drafting a request addressed to Tori.

  Both twins leaned in.

  Elowen understood first. A subtle, unspoken pride gleamed in her eyes as she followed his logic line by line.

  Seris let out a low whistle. “That’s… actually fucking brilliant,” he whispered.

  The lab fell silent except for the soft rhythm of Meteora’s typing, as if the room itself understood how pivotal this moment was for the perpetually exhausted boy.

  He reread the proposal several times. Then, at last, hovered his finger over the send button.

  A thunderous knock shattered the quiet.

  The door slammed open.

  Tori stood there, panting slightly, eyes wide with barely contained excitement. The look on her face—pure, unfiltered proud-aunt energy—made Meteora stiffen warily. That expression usually meant trouble.

  “L-Lady Taurus…” Tori gasped, straightening. “She saw your proposal. It’s approved. All of it. No questions asked.” She laughed breathlessly. “She wants to see it happen—even if it fails.”

  Seris gawked, jaw dropping.

  Elowen’s carefully composed expression softened into something unmistakably warm.

  Meteora just sat there, blinking in stunned silence.

  Then a notification appeared on his holo-computer.

  —New budget proposal approved—

  —New spending limit: Uncapped—