Trent walked into his home on Stawward Avenue after school, only to find it eerily quiet. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Usually, the house was bustling with activity, but today it felt like a ghost town.
Trent's heart began to race as he slowly made his way through the empty rooms. Something was definitely wrong.
"Mom!" Trent called , his voice tinged with worry. There was no answer. He set his backpack by the front door and walked towards his room, exhausted from the day. As he collapsed onto his bed, a strange noise from the next room startled him.
"Mom?" he called once more, his voice more uncertain this time. He rose slowly to his feet, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as he approached the door to his mother's room. The hinges creaked as he pushed the door open and peered inside.
As Trent stepped into the room, he saw his cat, Audrey, scampering around the floor. She let out a meow and pranced over to him, nuzzling his leg affectionately. It was a relief to see her, but it didn't explain the strange noise he had heard. He looked around the room, half-expecting something to jump out at him. But everything was still, quiet, and empty. He let out a sigh of relief. Whatever it was, it must have been his imagination.
As Trent petted Audrey, his eyes drifted to the floor, where he noticed a small envelope. It had been partially torn open, as if the cat had been scratching at it.
Curious, Trent bent down to pick it up, and found that it was addressed to his mother. Was this the mysterious source of the strange noise he had heard? He carefully tore open the envelope and found a single folded piece of paper inside.
He carefully unfolded the piece of paper and found a faded photograph. The picture was old and a bit worn, but he could still make out the image of a man in a Russian military uniform.
Could this be his father? Trent had never seen a single photograph of his father, thanks to his mother's refusal to talk about the past. His heart raced as he studied the photo. Was this finally a clue about his father?
Suddenly, the front door creaked, and a few moments later, his mother, Diane, entered the room. She seemed exhausted, her eyes red and puffy, as if she had been crying. Her gaze fell upon the photo, and she froze, her eyes widening in shock. "Trent, where did you get that?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Diane had been an American woman who had fallen in love with a Russian man. They had been so happy together, planning a life and a family. But then, tragedy struck. On the day Trent was born, his father had died defending his country. It was a wound that had never healed for Diane, and she had never spoken about him to Trent. In fact, she had forbidden him from engaging in anything related to the military. Now, seeing that photo brought back all the pain and grief she had carried for so many years.
"Who is that man?" Trent asked, tears welling up in his eyes. He had waited so long to know about his father, and now he was finally close to finding the truth. But his mother didn't answer, instead snatching the photo from his hand and turning to leave the room. "Please, mom is that dad?," he pleaded, tears streaming down his face.
Diane simply nodded, her own tears welling up in her eyes. She watched as her son ran out of the room, grabbing his backpack and leaving the house. She tried to call out to him, but he was already out the door. She sank to the floor, sobbing, clutching the photograph to her chest. In that moment, she felt like she had lost a loved all over again.
* * * * *
The Doxons were one of the most respected families in Stawward, a small town known for its close-knit community and friendly residents. Barbara, their only child, was a beautiful young woman with long orange hair and piercing red eyes. At just 17 years old, she had already made a name for herself as a kind and generous soul, and she was beloved by everyone who knew her. Despite her family's wealth and influence, she was humble and down-to-earth, always putting others before herself.
Barbara was in her room, doing what she loved best - playing video games. She was an avid gamer, and had even won a few local tournaments. She was determined to one day become a professional gamer, but for now, she was content to enjoy the games she loved.
As she played, she could hear her mother downstairs, still crying. She felt a pang of guilt, knowing she had upset her mother by returning home late. But she knew she couldn't stay dependent on her parents again not when her whole life was about to change.
"Ugh, I almost had it!" Barbara groaned, throwing the gamepad down on her bed in frustration. Suddenly, she heard a thud from the balcony outside her window. She jumped up and went to investigate, worried that something had happened. Peering out the window, she saw a small bag on the balcony floor. How had that gotten there? And what was it?
As she stared at the mysterious package, she felt a hand cover her mouth from behind. Before she could scream, she was grabbed by a pair of lean but strong arms, and she felt herself being pulled back away from the window. She struggled against the grip, but it was no use.
"Don't make a sound," a voice hissed in her ear. She froze, her heart pounding in her chest. Who was this person, and what did they want with her?
"It's me, Trent," the voice said, and Barbara felt a flood of relief. But then she realized that he was still holding her tightly, and she couldn't speak. "Oh, sorry," Trent said as he released her. "I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to keep you from screaming." Barbara took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice trembling slightly.
"I have nowhere to go," Trent said, his head hanging low in shame. Barbara's eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, what? You live just a few blocks away," she said, pointing in the direction of his house. "Why would you say you have nowhere to go?" Trent looked up at her, his eyes red and puffy. "Because... I'm not welcome there anymore," he said quietly. Barbara bit her lip, feeling a pang of sympathy for him.
"Let's go inside," Barbara said, closing the balcony door behind them. She turned to Trent, concern etched on her face. "Now, tell me what happened," she said, her voice gentle but firm.
"I just found out who my father is," Trent said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"That's a good thing, isn't it?" Barbara asked, genuinely confused.
"And I found out that he was part of the military," Trent continued, his voice shaking. Barbara's eyes widened, and she took a step back. "The military? But... that's not possible," she stammered.
A million thoughts raced through Barbara's mind. How could Trent's dad be a military when his mother despised the military? She thought it was impossible but as much as she didn't want to ask Trent any more questions, she was eager to know more.
"How did your dad turn out to be a military when your mum is not actually in support of the army?" she asked, trying get Trent to say more. "I mean, your mom isn't exactly a fan of the military."
"I know, it's complicated," Trent said, a look of frustration crossing his face. "But I think she has her reasons.
"So, what's your plan now that you've discovered your dad's role as a military" she inquired. "Considering your father's role in the Russian military, it seems like you might have a unique opportunity to fulfil your dream as a Russian hero, doesn't it
" You mean a Xepo?" Trent's words trailed off, and he suddenly looked unsure of what he said. Barbara let out a loud laugh, which seemed to echo through the room. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand, realizing how loud she had been. Trent shot her a panicked look, motioning for her to be quiet. Her parents might hear them!
"Why were you laughing?" Trent asked, looking a bit hurt. Barbara stifled another chuckle and said, ."I'm might not be as smart as you, but I never forget a lesson that easily." Trent still looked confused, his eyebrows furrowed in a way that made Barbara smile.
"Miss Gwen pronounced it as 'Gero,' not 'Xepo,'" Barbara asserted confidently. Trent simply shrugged. "I actually preferred it pronounced as 'Xepo,'" he admitted."
"Come on, Twigs, let's head to bed. You'll need to leave early tomorrow, or my parents will freak out if they find you here," Barbara said, her cheeks tinted with a blush.
"You can sleep on the couch," Barbara said, pointing to a long, plush piece of furniture near the window. "I'll get you some pillows and blankets."
"Thanks, I appreciate it," Trent said, grateful for her hospitality.
"Good night, Twigs," Barbara said, settling into her own bed. It was a large, pink monstrosity that matched the rest of the room's décor.
"Good night, Barbara," Trent said, trying to get comfortable on the couch. He couldn't help but wonder if he'd be able to sleep at all.
.
.
.
It was early the next morning at the Wales Industries headquarters, and Mr. Yuan and Mr. John Wales were hard at work on the Naerse technology. They were testing out Prototype 23-B, a full-body suit that was designed to protect humans from the harmful effects of cancer, space travel E.T.C. They had just attempted to use the suit on a human subject, but the test results were negative and the body had completely disintegrated.
"We need to fix this by next Thursday," Mr. Wales said sternly, his face etched with a deep frown. "The deadline is fast approaching, and we're not nearly ready."