Taufan was not having a good day.

"Sir? Sir, look at this foam art you've handed my son." The woman shoved the plastic cup onto the counter, tipping some of the contents. "Do you see what you've done?"

Taufan peered at the generic white and dark brown picture of a teddy bear with a bow on its ear. He hadn't drawn it – it was one of the images burned into the foam machine the stall had they used for latte or hot chocolate. If he's honest, he hadn't even been paying attention to what picture they'd used for the last fifteen or so orders.

"What's wrong with it?" he grunted. It's not like he painted alien warlord propaganda on the thing. "What did I do, exactly?"

The woman's face turned beet red, her voice rising. "It's a girl bear, you idiot!" she shrieked, stomping her foot. Her son, next to her, shrunk and pulled his hood over his face. "My son is a boy! He should be having boy bears. Remake it this instant!"

"Lady, if you aren't an entitled brat I don't know what you are," Taufan snapped, unamused. "Maybe you should go back home, look in a mirror and reevaluate your priorities."

"How dare you disrespect me?" She slammed the counter. "I demand to see your manager!"

"Like hell—"

"Tau," Gempa cut in, bottle of whip cream in hand, "what's the commotion?"

Taufan spun towards the younger, exasperated. Apparently, his current expression must be somewhat amusing towards him, as Gempa snorted into his palm when he turned around. The heat in his cheeks burned brighter. He loved Gempa, he really did... but sometimes the punk gives him a reason to throw him into the sky and pray he lands on his feet like a cat.

Seeing a new face (read: victim) to air her grievances to, she overlooked Taufan's presence to pester Gempa. Just as she opened her mouth to spew all the agenda she tried to hammer into Taufan's head, a new voice interrupted them from behind, sounding rather befuddled by the entire ordeal.

A pair of siblings stepped forward, flanking the woman on both sides. The brother sported an unzipped brown jacket over a white shirt and jeans, while his sister was wearing a sleeveless turtleneck and baggy camo pants.

The woman glared daggers at the offending customer. "Hey, Karen," she snarked, a venomous bite in her tone. "Have you really fallen so far in your life that you get off of harassing the new guys?"

"You shouldn't be making a scene, you know," said the man, removing the headphones from his ears and resting them around his neck. "Think about how your behavior is going to affect your son."

Taufan's head whipped back and forth from the pair, confusion rising in his mind. What was this strange sense of déjà vu? Also, what were their parents feeding these guys? He didn't need a height check to know that he would look like a midget compared to these two.

The woman's face turned stark white. To Taufan's surprise, she didn't even attempt to push their buttons. Instead, she grabbed her son's wrist and high-tailed from the premises, leaving the hot chocolate behind without so much of a second's hesitation. Then again, even he would hesitate when faced with them, and he's died more times than he could count.

They approached the counter, all hostility gone and in place of it was a sense of familiarity, like they'd been here many times and it'd become a second home. Taufan greeted them as he dug up a rag to clean up the counter.

"Newbies?" the man asked, tilting his head. "Don't think we've seen you around here before."

Taufan nodded. "I guess you could say that," he agreed. "We only just started today. Do you come here often?"

"Only by force," the woman muttered.

Her brother groaned. "Ignore her. She's rabid." He waved her off. "And no. We're just friends with the last guy—He didn't quit, did he?"

Gempa's eyebrow arched. "The last guy?" he quizzed, the gears turning in his head. "Hali—Halilintar?"

It was Taufan's turn to raise his eyebrow. It was either Gempa's stuttering habits had returned full force in the face of human interaction, or something else. "Hali has friends?" he joked, wiping down the counter. "Damn; never thought I'd see the day."

"You tell me." The man shrugged.

"If you're looking for him, he's off duty," Taufan informed him. "He should still be at home doing his own thing."

The woman tapped away at her phone, lips quirked in skepticism. "Playing Minecraft, that is." She swiped down, snorting. "I think Solar's beginning to regret introducing him to the game, if his Skywars losing streak is anything to go by."

"You don't say." The man's phone beeped as he fished out his own from his jacket. "We should head over. I don't think this should wait any longer if we could help it."

They bid Taufan a quick goodbye, then promptly walked in the direction towards their house. The door opened for them, and it was a surprised Air who greeted them at the entrance.

If they were really who they said they were, then there's nothing to be alarmed of. It's Halilintar. He could handle himself against two random strangers in the case of a robbery, but for some reason they looked familiar...

Taufan turned back to Gempa, arms crossed. "So. About last night."

Daun yawned into his palm, having freshly awoken by unfamiliar footsteps travelling down the hall, accompanied by equally foreign voices.

"That was a kid, right? Two kids? Did he get tired of Karens and decide that bratty children were a better alternative?"

"I—walk quicker, would you?"

He froze in place, fist clenching the blankets over him. For a terrifying second, a brief vision of whips and branding irons flashed in his vision, the phantom pain and scorching heat searing his skin. New voices meant a new day of punishment. New punishments meant new faces replacing the old. New faces replacing the old meant—

Cahaya turned in his bed, shuffling underneath his covers. It was a small motion, but it was enough to snap Daun out of his trance. He found himself stone cold, his clothes and back drenched in cold sweat.

"At this ghastly hour?" Cahaya seethed, muttering to himself as he pulled the blankets over his head. "I was under the impression that human households are only occupied by the host's immediate family members."

Daun stared at him. "What?" he rasped, still breathless and reeling in from the shock. He heard none of Cahaya's murmurs.

"Humans are strange," Cahaya summarized in his typical fashion. "Forever thankful that I wasn't born as one."

"There's nothing to talk about," Gempa deadpanned, shutting down Taufan's train of thought before he could continue. "I don't know how much you heard, but—"

"I hear everything," Taufan reminded him, "and I heard everything."

Gempa bit down the urge to roll his eyes while he emptied out the junk pitcher. Anytime they'd screw up a recipe or order, they'd have to dump it and start over, which in turn wasted tons of raw materials and time, that also led to many unhappy customers. Tok would not be proud. They helped out at the stall when they were younger, but muscle memory can only take you so far when there's a bajillion new machines they barely know the name of, let alone maneuver.

Working in customer service was difficult, but talking about one's feelings was a monumental task. He knew this was coming sooner or later – Taufan's not the type to let things slide without addressing them first, not if he could help it.

Gempa chewed his lip. "It's not polite to eavesdrop on people."

"You know I can't help it." Taufan pouted. "The way you two were screaming – it's like you want to be heard."

"It's not a cry for help, that's for sure," Gempa muttered dryly. "You don't need to be wrapped up in our melodramatics for no reason. You can drop it."

He knew Taufan wouldn't. He rarely "let things slide" when his mind was set to it, especially when it concerned his brothers. Gempa thought he and Halilintar were stubborn enough, but apparently bullheadedness was part of their shared heritage.

It was actually a wonder how they managed to tolerate each other for so long. Then again, they hadn't spoken to Halilintar in years, so maybe that was why.

Taufan counted the spare change they had in the register, taking notes in the yellowing ledger with several crossed-out lines and heck lot of X's. "Hmm." He flicked through the fivers, frowning. "Can't say I didn't see it coming."

Gempa glared at him. "See what coming?"

The wind elemental cocked an eyebrow. "Everything?" he questioned, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I told you it'd be a bad idea sending those four here. You know just how much he hates aliens and space stuff. Matter of fact, he hates it so much that he'd rather eat a rat with rabies alive."

"He won't."

"Ah tata, there's where you're wrong."

Gempa scowled. "Are you on his side, or mine? And don't act like we had a choice. It was between blowing the station all the way to Pluto or coming to him." He spat the last word from his mouth like it was bitter poison, his expression darkening as the thought sickened him to his stomach.

Taufan stared at him with a blank face, remaining silent.

Gempa hated that look – it made him feel like the immature and reckless one, but in reality it was the exact opposite. He was one of the youngest Lance Corporals in TAPOPS and Sunnova. He had two kids under his watch, both in dire need of guidance and care. He was the pillar that everyone turned to in times of danger. He was supposed to be the responsible one, but here he was, getting riled up because of a brother who hadn't even bothered to be worried for them when they were out in the galaxy risking their behinds.

"Forget it," Gempa fumed, scrubbing away at an already-clean counter. "This isn't going anywhere."

Taufan glanced at a group of teenagers on the way to the counter. "Oh, it's going somewhere," he grunted to himself, a vein bulging from his forehead with creased eyebrows. "Not anywhere I'd like to be, though."

Halilintar had his arms crossed, eyes narrowing at the enlarged picture on his laptop. Thunderstorm and Quake stood on both flanks, shifting uncomfortably as they waited for Solar's analysis on the end of the call.

"I've never seen anything like this," Solar's voice permeated through the speakers, confused and lost. "Not in any reports or news – Earth or otherwise. Halilintar, I'd think you have a better shot than I have."

Halilintar shook his head. "I can only tell you that it's one of the more primitive models." He pointed at the picture depicting a blurry image of a spaceship. "And it's meant for transport, not combat – but I have a feeling you already know that."

Quake threw his arms up in exasperation. "Come on," he complained. "Just a few days ago a literal alien mercenary robot jumped Thorn and Solar in broad daylight. Now we have a whole ship on our tails?"

"Maybe they come in peace?"

Three pairs of eyes turned to the video call, glaring daggers. In the video feed, Solar raised his hands in surrender, turning in his chair.

Halilintar sighed, massaging his temples. "Where and when was this picture taken exactly? Do we have more information on this vessel?"

Thunderstorm's eyes flashed red for a brief moment. "Last night, 9:14PM," she supplied before Solar could speak up. "I can't find the exact location, but it's somewhere along Mercury's orbit. And no – this is the only picture I can find in every immediate database I can access, so either they've already left, or they have a cloaking device."

Around 9PM, huh. That's when he and Gempa had that falling out. Halilintar fell back in his chair, grunting at the memory.

"Mercury?" Quake repeated, surprised. "I don't know much about astrology, but isn't that right next to the sun?"

"Astronomy," Solar and Thunderstorm voiced at the same time.

Halilintar covered his face. "Mercury, huh." There was only one active base he knew that was situated smack dab in Mercury's orbit, and he didn't like where this was going. "Where is this ship right now?"

"Somewhere around Neptune," Solar supplied.

That's not very far. Halilintar would know from personal experience how fast spacecrafts could go – even with the older models, they could transverse the entire solar system in three hours flat at their highest speed.

"Do we have evidence that this is a hostile entity?" Thunderstorm asked. "There's still a chance that they're only passing by or attempting to make contact with Earth."

"No sane alien comes in peace," Halilintar groused. "Trust me. The good ones are either traitors, off-the-rails, or are suffering from amnesia."

"I'm afraid I have to agree," Solar piped up. "The first rule of research is to keep an open mind... but I'm getting sick of random aliens and their whack technology trying to wipe us off the face of the galaxy for no reason."

"These two? World's ending," Quake grumbled.

"You try dodging exploding arrows at the cost of the destruction of your favorite coffee place," Solar snapped. "My only alternative is Starbucks, and I hate pumpkin spice lattes!"

Halilintar uncapped his water bottle. "That sounds like every other day, honestly."

"And you could finally cut off your caffeine addiction," Thunderstorm chimed in. "Maybe you'd be less insufferable."

"Maybe you two should shut up."

Both Halilintar and Thunderstorm looked ready to retaliate, but they were stopped when Quake held up a hand, a finger pressed to his lips. Someone's coming, he mouthed, pointing to the door behind them jammed by a wooden chair underneath the knob.

True to his prediction, they heard footsteps barreling down the hall and the knocks that followed. "Mister Halilintar?" Daun's voice sounded. "Um, Cahaya just broke his fuse, and uh—the sun is weird?"

What.

Halilintar suppressed the heavy urge to sigh. He turned to his team, motioning them to continue their research while he dealt with it. Thunderstorm and Quake couldn't speak, but a muffled ping from the laptop got their attention.

carbonmoronxide: So, are we going to talk about the kids, or?