The splintered remnants of the door lay in their wake as Kalisto stormed down the hall, his steps bringing out his frustration.
Ivaim followed, his pace more deliberate, hands in his pockets and a calm smile tugging at his lips.
The trouble Reves left in his wake wasn't unexpected—it was almost amusing, really—but Kalisto clearly wasn't in the mood to see the humor in it.
"I swear, when I catch that kid, he's going to wish he stayed locked in that room," Kalisto muttered, his voice a low growl.
"Relax, babysitter," Ivaim drawled, his tone light.
"He's just testing boundaries. Isn't that what kids do?"
Kalisto turned to shoot him a glare.
"He's testing my patience, that's what he's doing."
The chase led them into a wide atrium, its towering glass walls casting long shadows across the polished floors.
The sound of hurried footsteps drew their attention upward.
There, on a precarious maintenance platform, stood Reves.
He had pried open a control panel, and the boy was elbow-deep in a mess of wires, his face scrunched in concentration.
"Hey!" Kalisto shouted, his voice booming across the space.
"Get away from there!"
Reves glanced down, his grin impish. "I'm busy!"
Kalisto's hands clenched into fists. "Busy breaking things, you mean!"
Ivaim tilted his head, observing the boy's antics with mild curiosity. The open control panel, the loose wires sparking faintly—it all felt oddly familiar.
The sharp smell of burning plastic reached his nose, and for a moment, the world around him faded.
He wasn't in the atrium anymore.
The hum of fluorescent lights buzzed faintly in the background, accompanied by the rhythmic clink of tools on metal.
He could see the cramped aisles of his father's electrical shop, the shelves lined with coils of wire, circuit boards, and half-finished projects.
His father's voice rang in his ears, equal parts gruff and teasing.
"Grab the red wire, son, not the blue. Unless you want to short-circuit the whole system."
He could see himself as a boy, hands too small for the pliers he was wielding, but determined to prove he could handle it.
His father had been patient in his own way, always there to guide him with a grumble and a proud smirk.
Suddenly, Ivaim had a sudden tug at his emotions which made him want to go back home... To his original world.
Ivaim blinked, the memory dissipating as Kalisto's voice brought him back to the present.
"Are you just going to stand there, or are you actually going to help me?"
Kalisto snapped, already halfway up the ladder leading to the platform.
Ivaim smirked, shaking off the memory. "Don't worry. I've got this."
Reves, noticing Kalisto's approach, yanked a particularly large wire loose.
A loud clunk echoed through the atrium as heavy security shutters began slamming down around the perimeter.
The lights flickered ominously, and a warning siren blared to life.
"Kid, what did you just do?" Kalisto demanded, his voice tinged with panic.
"I'm improvising!" Reves shouted back, his grin widening.
Kalisto reached the platform and grabbed Reves by the arm, hauling him away from the control panel.
The boy wriggled in his grip but didn't put up much of a fight.
"Experiment time is over," Kalisto growled.
"Hey, I wasn't going to break it!" Reves protested. "Probably..."
Ivaim, now standing by the base of the control panel, crouched to examine the damage.
His hands moved with practiced ease, fingers brushing over the exposed wires.
The sparks didn't faze him—he'd dealt with worse back in his father's shop.
"What are you doing?" Reves asked, leaning over to watch him.
"Fixing what you broke," Ivaim replied, his tone even.
"You know how to do that?"
"Yeah, I know how to do that." Ivaim's voice carried a hint of amusement as he twisted two wires together, creating a faint spark.
The lights stabilized, and the shutters groaned as they began to rise.
Kalisto, now back on the ground with Reves in tow, crossed his arms and looked at Ivaim.
"Not bad, troublemaker. Didn't know you had it in you."
Ivaim shrugged as he stood, brushing off his hands.
"Some of us have skills beyond babysitting."
Reves, still held firmly by Kalisto, stared at Ivaim with wide eyes.
"You're pretty cool for an old guy," he admitted grudgingly.
"Thanks," Ivaim said with a smirk. "But you're still grounded."
Reves groaned dramatically, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
Kalisto, however, wasn't letting the moment slide. He knelt to Reves's eye level, his expression stern.
"What were you thinking, messing with something like that? You could've gotten yourself hurt—or worse."
Reves looked away, his earlier bravado dimmed.
"I just…wanted to see how it worked."
Kalisto sighed, his frustration ebbing slightly.
"Next time, ask someone who knows what they're doing. You're smart, kid, but smarts won't help you if you're dead."
Ivaim watched the exchange silently, his thoughts drifting back to his father's shop.
He remembered the lessons he'd learned there—how to fix what was broken, how to stay calm under pressure.
His father had always said he had a knack for solving problems, even if he created a fair share of them himself.
The memory left a strange ache in his chest. He hadn't thought about his old life in quite awhile now, and he wasn't sure if there was even a way back.
Reves's voice broke through his thoughts.
"So…does this mean you're not mad anymore?"
Kalisto raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, I'm still mad. But I'm also impressed you didn't electrocute yourself, so there's that."
Ivaim chuckled softly, earning a glare from Kalisto.
"What?" he said, holding up his hands. "He's got guts. Can't fault him for that."
Kalisto shook his head, exasperated.
"You're not helping."
With the immediate crisis resolved, the three of them made their way out of the atrium.
Reves walked between them, his steps a little more subdued but his eyes still darting around, undoubtedly planning his next scheme.
Reves, now thoroughly chastised, glanced between the two men. "So… we're not going to tell anyone about this, right?"
Kalisto's glare could've melted steel. "Oh, we're definitely telling your handler."
Reves winced, but Ivaim just chuckled, ruffling the kid's hair as he walked past.
"Don't worry, brat. I'll make sure he doesn't ground you too hard."
Reves looked up at him, his expression torn between admiration and disbelief.
"You're pretty cool for an old guy, you know that?"
Ivaim's eye twitched at the sound of "old guy".
He paused, glancing back with a smirk. "Don't push your luck."
As they left the atrium, Ivaim's thoughts lingered on the memory of his father's shop. That small, cluttered space had been his entire world once.
Now, standing in a place so far removed from that life, he couldn't help but wonder what his father would think if he could see him now.
For better or worse, those days were gone.
But the lessons his father had taught him—the patience, the skill, the quiet pride in fixing what others couldn't—were still with him.
And for now, that was enough.