The snow continued to fall slowly on Asgard that gray morning, partially covering the industrial rooftops, the railway lines, and the tal towers that grew ever higher above the city’s administrative districts. Even early, the distant sound of locomotives already pierced the cold winter air, accompanied by the constant noise of factories working tirelessly. Asgard never seed to truly sleep now. There were always workers toiling, trains crossing the tracks, or caravans arriving through the city’s outer gates. The monstrous expansion continued almost like a living entity growing unchecked.
Inside the main castle, however, the atmosphere was much quieter.
The enormous dining hall was partially ward by the fireplaces lit near the dark stone walls. The soft morning light stread through the tall windows while the sll of fresh coffee and hot food filled the air. For the first ti in a long ti, there was a rare sense of normalcy in that place.
Strax remained seated at the table, still wearing simple clothes after finally waking from his long period of rest. Her white hair was still partially disheveled from excessive sleep, and although she looked much better physically than days ago, there was still a noticeable weight in her expression. Nine days of sleep had helped her body, but clearly hadn’t resolved everything that had been building up in her head for the past few months.
In front of her, Scathach calmly arranged so cups while finishing serving the breakfast she had prepared.
The contrast still seed strange.
For much of Strax’s life, the image of his mother had been linked to destruction, overwhelming authority, and absolute fear. Scathach was the kind of creature whose re presence usually sent entire kingdoms into a panic. Now she walked calmly through the hall, once again wearing that absurdly provocative maid uniform, arranging breakfast plates with complete ease.
And the strangest thing was that she seed genuinely comfortable with it.
Strax observed the table for a few seconds before finally picking up his coffee cup.
It slled good.
Very good, actually. He took a slow sip as he watched Scathach finish arranging so dishes near the table.
Then he asked calmly,
"Are you alright?"
She looked up imdiately upon hearing that. For a few seconds, she seed slightly surprised by the question, as if she wasn’t quite used to soone genuinely caring about her in that way.
Then she gave a small, discreet smile.
"I am."
Her answer ca simply, but sincerely.
She slowly pulled up a chair and sat down on the other side of the table before continuing,
"Monica helped a lot."
Strax watched her silently as Scathach delicately held her own coffee cup.
"Helped how?"
She seed to think for a few seconds before answering.
"To integrate ."
The word ca out calmly, almost strangely coming from her.
Scathach partially looked away towards the window as she continued speaking,
"Honestly... I expected sothing much worse."
Strax didn’t respond imdiately.
Because they both knew exactly what she was talking about.
The incident still lingered in the mory of everyone within that castle. The mont when Scathach practically lost control and nearly killed several of them during the outburst caused by her own ntal and emotional instability.
Even now, so of the guilt clearly remained within her.
She continued speaking in a much lower tone:
"Even though it seems strange... or perhaps even humiliating to so people... working here like this..." She glanced quickly at her own uniform before giving a small, tired smile. "...it’s a dignified job."
Strax remained silent, observing her.
Scathach then held the cup with both hands before continuing:
"And honestly... after all that..." Her eyes lowered for a few seconds. "...I’m grateful for the redemption."
Silence returned to the hall soon after.
Not an uncomfortable silence.
Just heavy.
Ancient.
Like two people observing the remnants of problems that haven’t completely disappeared yet.
Strax partially rested his cup on the table before finally replying:
"I hope you don’t think I’m punishing you."
Scathach imdiately looked up.
And before he could continue, she calmly interrupted:
"I never thought that."
The answer ca firmly.
Instantaneously.
Without hesitation.
She kept her eyes fixed on him as she continued:
"Not for a second."
Strax remained quiet as she breathed slowly before proceeding:
"Again... I just want to say thank you."
There was too much sincerity in her voice to seem like any attempt to please.
It felt real.
Perhaps because it was.
Scathach probably expected to be hated, isolated, or even expelled after what happened. Instead, Monica found a place for herself within the daily workings of the castle.
Practical.
Controlled.
And surprisingly human.
That’s most likely what prevented Scathach from sinking even further into her own guilt.
Strax finally let out a small, tired smile before picking up his coffee cup again.
"Good."
She watched him for a few silent seconds before finally relaxing her shoulders slightly.
The atmosphere beca lighter.
At least partially.
Then Strax looked at the table again.
There was freshly baked bread.
Still-cooked at.
Fruit.
Tea.
Coffee.
Everything absurdly organized.
He picked up a piece of bread slowly before comnting,
"You really made a good breakfast."
Scathach smiled almost discreetly at that.
A small smile.
But genuine.
"Monica taught ."
That made Strax raise an eyebrow imdiately.
"She taught you to cook?"
Scathach nodded naturally.
"She said I needed to learn common tasks."
"That sounds exactly like sothing Monica would say."
"She also created schedules."
"Of course she did."
Scathach took a small sip of coffee before continuing,
"At first I thought it was strange."
"And now?"
She glanced briefly at her own hands before replying,
"Now I think... it’s fine."
Strax continued watching her for a few seconds.
It was still strange to process.
Scathach seed much less unstable now.
There was still sothing dangerous about her. It would never completely disappear. The overwhelming presence was still there, hidden beneath the surface. But at the sa ti, there was a different kind of calm now.
Perhaps routine really did help.
Perhaps Monica had understood this from the beginning.
The problem was that Monica probably did that to herself too.
She turned everything into work.
Organization.
Routine.
Control.
As if stopping ant losing her balance.
Strax then took another sip of his coffee before asking:
"Speaking of which... where is Monica?"
Scathach imdiately looked away.
That alone answered half the question.
Strax narrowed his eyes slightly.
"She went back to work, didn’t she?"
Scathach imdiately raised both hands in a gesture of surrender before he even finished the sentence.
"She rested for eight days."
Strax continued to stare at her.
Scathach sighed slightly before adding:
"She ca back today."
The silence that followed was utterly revealing.
Strax slowly set his cup down on the table, running a hand over his face.
"She was supposed to be out of commission for two weeks."
Scathach gave a small, tired smile.
"I figured you’d react like this."
"Because I’m right."
"Probably."
He let out a long sigh, glancing partly at the snow beyond the windows.
Of course, Monica ca back early.
Eight days already probably felt like psychological torture for her.
Strax could perfectly imagine how it happened. First, she started by just reviewing small reports. Then she decided to organize so docunts. Then she probably showed up at so administrative district "just to check sothing."
And before they knew it, she was back managing half the city.
Sick.
Completely sick.
Scathach watched him silently before calmly comnting:
"Honestly... maybe it’s better this way."
Strax slowly glanced at her. "Better?"
She nodded.
"Leaving Monica unemployed for too long..." Scathach let out a small, low, nasal laugh. "...will make her sick."
This made Strax fall silent for a few seconds.
Because unfortunately, it made sense.
Monica clearly didn’t know how to exist anymore without working on sothing. The growth of Asgard had practically beco a direct extension of her own mind. Solving problems, organizing systems, and controlling the functioning of the entire city was probably what kept her emotionally stable.
The problem was that it was also slowly destroying her.
Strax picked up another piece of bread as he spoke:
"She needs to learn to rest."
Scathach partially rested her face on one hand before replying:
"Maybe."
"Maybe not. Definitely."
She observed him for a few seconds before asking:
"And you?"
This made Strax briefly stop moving.
"What about ?"
Scathach tilted her head slightly.
"You slept for nine days."
He let out a small, tired laugh.
"Fair point."
"You clearly don’t know how to rest either."
That elicited a short silence from him.
Because again she was right.
Maybe everyone in that city was slowly becoming the sa.
Asgard was growing too fast.
Everything constantly depended on everyone else.
There was always another problem arising.
Another territory.
Another threat.
Another crisis.
Another attack.
Another project.
Another report.
Another war.
It seed impossible to simply stop.
Strax watched the hot steam slowly rising from the coffee cup before finally answering:
"I intended to rest more."
Scathach raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Intended to?"
He let out another tired sigh.
"Sothing tells this won’t last much longer."
She seed to imdiately realize there was sothing beyond physical exhaustion behind that answer.
Her gaze shifted slightly.
More attentive.
"Does it have to do with Ouroboros?"
The question ca too calmly.
Too directly.
Strax remained silent for a few seconds before answering:
"Perhaps."
Scathach observed him carefully.
She had probably already noticed that sothing was wrong long before the others. Ancient creatures like herself were too sensitive to ignore strange changes in monstrous presences.
And Ouroboros had definitely changed.
Even if subtly.
Strax rested his arms partially on the table as he spoke in a much lower tone:
"Sothing happened in the Celestial Capital."
Scathach didn’t interrupt.
She didn’t press.
She just listened.
"For a few monts..." he continued slowly. "...she didn’t seem like herself anymore."
Silence returned to the hall.
Heavy again.
Scathach closed his eyes for a second before asking:
"Did she lose control?"
"Not exactly."
"Then?"
Strax took a mont to answer.
Because he still couldn’t explain it exactly.
"It seed..." He breathed slowly. "...as if sothing else was looking through her."
Scathach’s expression hardened subtly.
Very subtly.
But Strax noticed.
She imdiately understood the gravity of it.
Creatures of that level were not easily influenced.
If sothing had actually managed to temporarily seize Ouroboros...
Then that was a gigantic problem.
Scathach slowly set his cup down on the table before asking:
"Does she know?"
"I think so."
"And she’s hiding it."
"Yes."
Silence returned once more.
Outside, the distant sound of a locomotive partially pierced the air as snow continued to fall slowly over Asgard.
The city continued to grow.
Expanding.
Consuming everything around it.
And in the midst of all that, new problems slowly began to erge.
Problems that were perhaps far worse than monsters, wars, or monarchs.
Scathach then looked directly at him again.
"And what are you going to do?"
Strax remained for a few seconds observing his coffee before finally answering:
"First?"
He took another slow sip.
"I’m going to finish my coffee." Strax remained for a few seconds observing the coffee before finally answering:
"First?"
He took another slow sip.
"I’ll finish my coffee."
Scathach let out a small, low laugh at that, partially resting her face on her hand as she observed him with a calmness very different from the overwhelming presence she used to carry in the past. The atmosphere remained silent for a few monts, filled only by the distant sound of locomotives crossing Asgard outside and the soft crackling of wood burning in the fireplaces of the hall.
Then Strax finally looked directly at her again.
More specifically at her outfit.
He narrowed his eyes slightly.
Because now, after waking up properly and montarily stopping thinking about Ouroboros, monsters, dead monarchs, political crises, and uncontrolled industrial growth, his mind finally managed to register an extrely important detail.
That outfit was absurd.
I an, technically it still looked like a maid uniform.
But only technically.
The black dress was too short. Too tight. The neckline clearly existed for criminal intent. The dark stockings accentuated her legs even more, while the white apron seed almost decorative, it was so small. Honestly, it looked more like so kind of indecent costu than a minimally functional cleaning uniform.
Strax stared silently for a few seconds before finally asking,
"...Why exactly are you wearing that outfit?"
Scathach blinked once.
Then she slowly looked down, analyzing her own uniform as if genuinely reflecting on the question.
Then she looked back at him.
"Isn’t that clear?"
Strax raised an eyebrow slightly.
She replied as calmly as possible,
"I want to sleep with you."
The silence that followed was so absolute that even the distant sounds of the factories seed to disappear for a mont.
Strax just stared at her.
Without imdiate reaction.
Because honestly, after months dealing with continental wars, cosmic entities, ancient dragons, exploding industrial cities, and creatures capable of destroying kingdoms, his brain still wasn’t prepared for soone to simply state that with the nonchalance of soone comnting on the weather.
Scathach continued holding her coffee cup calmly before adding,
"I just put this here for you."
She took a small sip of coffee.
Then she added in a perfectly casual tone,
"I literally told all the employees to take the day off today."
Strax remained silent for a few seconds.
Processing.
Very slowly.
Then he finally ran a hand over his face while letting out a low, incredulous laugh.
"You kicked the entire castle staff out?"
"I didn’t."
She tilted her head slightly.
"I gave them paid ti off."
"That sohow makes it worse."
"Monica said employee benefits increase productivity."
That made him look at her again imdiately.
"Did you discuss this with Monica?"
"Not the part about sleeping with you."
"Thanks for clarifying."
"You’re welco."
She calmly rested her elbow on the table as she watched his tired expression slowly crumble into a mixture of ntal exhaustion and utter disbelief.
The worst part was that Scathach seed completely serious.
No sha.
No embarrassnt.
She had actually arranged the whole thing as if it were just another logical task of the day.
Strax looked at her outfit again.
Then at her.
Then at the outfit again.
"...This really looks more like lingerie than a maid’s outfit."
Scathach observed her own body for a mont before calmly replying:
"Yes."
"You say that with too much pride."
"Because it looks good."
"That’s not the problem."
She arched a slight eyebrow.
"Then what is the problem?"
Strax opened his mouth.
Closed it again.
Because honestly, at that mont he didn’t even know exactly which part of the situation was the main problem.
His mother was wearing an absurdly provocative maid costu.
She had seemingly emptied the entire castle.
She had prepared breakfast.
And casually announced that she wanted to sleep with him while serving coffee, as if they were discussing household managent.
It was all so absurdly surreal that for a few seconds he simply gave up trying to ntally organize it.
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