Observing the playful exchange between Temoshí and Phalris—evidently very good friends—Ophelia stepped forward to address the gathered visitors.
"We apologize for presuming you were trespassing on our sacred grounds. Our duty to guard this palace of Phalris is paramount," she announced in a measured tone. As she spoke, she glanced at Temoshí, who promptly adjusted her scarf and stretched, clearly lamenting the lack of any real action lately.
Temoshí responded with a light giggle, placing one palm firmly on her hip while using the other to shield her eyes from the sun. "No big deal, really," she said, her tone teasing. "You were just doing your duty, as you said. But since we've reached an understanding, can't we call it even now?" She scanned the surroundings with a playful smirk. "This place is sacred, isn't it? So unique—no wonder we can walk on water like it's solid ground." With that, she relaxed her stance, letting her arms fall naturally at her sides.
Ophelia stepped forward once more, maintaining a steady gaze as she observed them in silence for several long seconds before finally speaking.
"I understand that you've come to aid the people of Cascade Cradle. However, leaving behind the artifact we require is highly irresponsible. That artifact, tied to Phalris, is far too valuable to be forgotten. If it were to fall into the wrong hands or be stolen, it could cause problems that we otherwise could have easily avoided."
Temoshí, clearly mortified by her oversight, rubbed the back of her hip with a worried frown. "Look, I'm sure we can go back and retrieve it. It's in my room—right there on a shelf in one of the closets. The only hitch is, I have no means to contact anyone about it." She folded her arms over her chest and shot a quick glance at Ophelia.
Trice, clearly annoyed, scoffed. "How on earth did Phalris think it was a wise idea to trust you with the artifact? That's got to be one of the most absurd decisions I've ever heard."
Temoshí's face tightened, her irritation simmering. "I don't know what you're trying to imply, but just because I forgot it doesn't mean I'm a lousy caretaker!"
"You're lucky you had that desert girl covering for you," Trice grumbled, turning away in frustration. "Otherwise, I'd have taken you down myself as punishment for being so careless."
Before Temoshí could retort, Shanya stepped forward, cracking her knuckles. "Hey, Burnsy's only human—just like the rest of us. No one's perfect, damn it. I'll just go back and fetch it for you—unless you really want to settle this with fists again."
Chiaki, growing tired of the constant bickering, stepped in to break the tension. "Can we all just calm down for a minute? It's secure in his room, right? So why are we all so worked up? No one in the household—except our crew—knows about it, and I'm sure none of them would ever even think about touching or breaking it."
Returning to the household, Tarot looked downright worried that his captain had vanished this morning. He waddled over like a duck on a mission—arms swinging behind his back, eyes closed in bliss, and whistling a goofy tune—as he approached Temoshí's door.
Abruptly, he stopped his quacking melody and banged on the wooden door. "Oh, captain, it's morning already! You'd better wake up before I bust in here and start feeding you peaches instead of your royal breakfast!" he joked, his voice a mix of mock sternness and genuine concern.
When no response came, Tarot leaned forward, still with his arms behind him, and pounded on the door even harder. "Hey! Dude, it's time to wake up, I said!" he bellowed, his knocks growing more impatient by the second.
Finally, he pressed his eye to the keyhole and peered inside. With a mischievous smirk, he quipped, "Hmmm… don't get too shocked if I see you in your birthday suit when I come in!"
In seconds, unable to resist the urge any longer, Tarot flung the door open and burst into Temoshí's room—only to find it completely empty. "And there's not a soul here whatsoever!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing comically in the silent space, leaving him to wonder if he'd just been pranked by an absent-minded captain.
Tarot wandered through the room like a clueless tourist, checking under the bed, peeking behind the wardrobe, and even circling around corners in a desperate search for his captain. After what felt like an eternity, he scratched the top of his head in exasperation and let out a dramatic sigh.
Just then, Joker strolled in, shaking his head as if he'd just seen the world's worst comedy. "What in the name of all things sacred are you doing, Tarot? You're pounding on our captain's door like a maniac at a drum solo! Show some mercy—he's probably passed out from last night's debauchery," Joker chided, his tone both amused and mildly exasperated.
Tarot turned to Joker, his expression mock-serious. "Oh, Mr. Robot, clearly I'm the only one here—besides this furniture, which, let's be honest, is way too royal and shiny for my taste. It desperately needs a little transformation, don't you think?"
Not long after, Joker decided to inspect the room himself. As he looked around, his eyes caught a glimmer on a shelf. "Hey, isn't that the artifact our captain was meant to bring back? It looks pretty dazzling."
Curiosity piqued, Tarot picked it up and examined every nook and cranny with exaggerated scrutiny. "I really don't think you should be messing with that," Joker warned as he watched Tarot start tossing it around like a frisbee, wrapping it around his arms and waist as if it were a prize-winning ribbon. "I'm sure our captain wouldn't mind if I got a little sparkly action from it—after all, who can resist shiny things?"
Joker sighed dramatically. "Honestly, I still think it's best left alone—" But before he could finish, Tarot's grip faltered and the artifact slipped from his hands. His eyes widened in a mixture of horror and disbelief as he shouted, "Gah! I got it!" He lunged to catch it, palms flailing like he was trying to snatch a falling star, but the artifact slid off his skin and clothes as if it were covered in ice. In seconds, it hit the floor and shattered into pieces with the sound of a million tiny bells.
For a long, silent moment, both Joker and Tarot stood frozen in shock, their eyes bulging as if they'd just witnessed a miracle—and then a complete disaster.
"That… definitely isn't good," Joker managed to choke out, turning away as if he couldn't bear to see the remnants of their error.
Tarot, now on his knees, frantically tried to piece the shattered relic together like a jigsaw puzzle. His hands trembled as he attempted to glue shards back in place, only for them to break apart and fall again in a pathetic, echoing clatter. "I—I'm sure I can fix it!" he insisted, voice cracking with panic and sweat beading on his forehead, but every effort only seemed to underscore his complete incompetence.
The absurdity of the moment left both of them red-faced and speechless, their blunders a source of hilarity even in the dire straits of their misfortune.
Tarot gulped, forcing the most painfully awkward smile imaginable as he slowly turned to Joker. "Sooo… on a scale from 'oops' to 'we're completely doomed,' how bad do you think this is?"
Joker didn't even hesitate. He simply crossed his arms, exhaled through his nose, and deadpanned, "Start packing your bags. We're getting evicted from the crew." He tilted his head slightly. "No, actually—forget the bags. We won't need them where we're going."
Tarot's smile twitched. "A-And where exactly is that?"
Joker clapped a hand on his shoulder like a man delivering a death sentence. "The land of the forgotten. The great beyond. The abyss of 'we just screwed up so bad we might as well start digging our own graves.'"
Tarot wiped a dramatic tear from his eye. "At least we had a good run."
Joker nodded solemnly. "Yeah… a solid zero out of ten lifespan. Wouldn't recommend."
To be continued...