「...Action!」

Why are you punishing a child of your resemblance, as if she had sinned? If you have a regret you cannot bear, why is it your daughter who needs to repent for you?

In this era of human civilization, where lifespans of a hundred years or more have become the norm and technological advancements have reached unprecedented heights, occurrences of genetic mutations within the human population have become increasingly common. Where humanity stands at the forefront of scientific progress and genetic evolution...

Earth. North Panacea. October, 3009.

“Eon?” A man with irises bright as the sun's color entered the room with curiosity, his complexion complimented his current mood. Full of vitality. His voice echoed throughout the empty room, his eyes resting at a table resting far at the west. Approaching the said furniture, the man caressed his hands among the things present. There is a paper scribbled with random words, a pen resting on its right side.

A lamp was located at the left side of the table, the position near the wall where its wire could be easily plugged. After his passive observation, he confirmed that the other person hasn't left for long. The man decided to wait whilst looking out of the window.

“I wonder where she went—”

“Azazel?” A woman's voice abruptly called with a pleasant surprise.

Turning around, his eyes were greeted by a youthful appearance. The young woman have a straight black hair, and soft side fringes. Her down-turned ecliptic eyes were placed with warmth.

The man named Azazel happily skipped and went around her, “Where have you been, Eon?”

A puppy. A lost one it seems.

“I met with Corentin.” Eon glanced at the other, tilting her head. Coincidentally, at the side of her vision, Eon saw someone. She waved before replying to Azazel: “The Doctor just left.”

Azazel got distracted by the woman’s actions, “If that's the case, who are you waving to?”

“Hm, someone smiling. I thought it's polite to wave back, probably one of my subordinates, she’s wearing a lab coat.”

“In here...?” Azazel mouthed. “This is not your research lab, this is our private property about to be sold.”

“...”

Eon felt goosebumps coming up from her hands.

“I’ll handle that person later, probably someone lost again because of the broken fence outside. Don’t be stressed.” Azazel comforted, “As I was saying, I can’t wait to meet them. Were they healthy?” There’s fondness on the man’s voice, brushing off the atmosphere from earlier.

“Corentin said that it's still suggested to not proceed with the traditional pregnancy, either we proceed using other ways or... discontinue. But I stood my ground.” Eon walked forward, rubbing her small bump before taking her former seat. The chair scratched the ground softly, creating noise.

“Will there be more complications if we did proceed? Although I did say that we prefer to continue the traditional pregnancy at the first check-up, if you feel even a little unwell...” Azazel  held her hand, caressing the back of it using his thumb. “...conceiving a child with mix blood in today's era-”

“Shh, don’t mind that guy. Corentin is just worrying out of his mind. He is just that type of person since we're juniors and seniors in the institution until he gained his title as ‘Doctor’ Faustus. Besides, I would like to feel them growing up.” Eon placed her forefinger on the man’s lips, silencing his words. The woman sat down with a pleased face, smiling charmingly as she spun the pen with ease between her fingers. “Anyhow, let's start the draft of this game’s story.”

“Wait.” The man stopped her from spinning the pen.

Eon patiently turned to him, “Is there a problem?”

“I'll get some desserts, it serves as mood enhancers. I don’t think it will be bad for you or them once in a while.” Azazel didn't wait for the woman to refuse, running towards the door as if he had seen a chance to spend a day with his beloved.

Eon smiled to herself, looking at the peaceful scenery outside. The room she's in were dull unlike the magnificent sky outside, hers was pure walls colored with white unlike the green grass blanketing the earth. Other than the walls, the study table was the only thing left. Their voices would echo all around the corner, signaling that the room is spacious.

The woman started tapping the white painted wood with a little boredom, “Hm...”

Somewhere, the footsteps approached her in short distance, a porcelain plate with toppings of violet icing and syrup lies in front of her face. The aroma was sweet, making Eon tempted to immediately eat it.

Azazel sighed, “Aren’t you supposed to be focusing on conceptualizing your own research, or resting instead of helping me draft a new game? Not only that, you even started designing its power system.”

Eon nodded with a firm tone, “It’s okay, it's boring in the Institution. There's nothing new to get my hands busy.”

‘What a stubborn woman, if people see they'll say I'm such a bad spouse.’

Azazel gave Eon silverware as he stated: “All right... I got your favorite flavor.”

Eon chuckled, taking the fork as it slowly pierced the soft bread. She then mumbled, “I’ve noticed that you really like green utensils, from cups to plates it never leaves your hands. Importantly, it's all plastic. Don't you have a hard time washing it?”

“No,” The man pulled another white chair near their position. Leisurely sitting side by side. “I like light plates instead of those. It’s quite heavy when moving around and it easily breaks.” He pointed at the plate on Eon's hands.

Eon turned away, teasing. “What a stubborn person.”

“Excuse me?” Azazel defended.

Who’s really stubborn here, woman?

“Excuse yourself,” Eon answered with a mocking grin.

“Eon...” He puffed with a surrendered face, there was a subtle pout forming on his lips,  “I don't really like that plate, it's too much work when I accidentally break it. The only reason why we still have those is because of you, I was kind enough to keep it.”

The woman laughed, “I like those plates because the stains in it are easier to rinse off, also I can slap someone with it and make them bleed to death.”

Azazel flinched, looking around. “We... We're the only ones here y'know? There's no ‘them’ or whatsoever.”

“Exactly.” Eon then pointed out.

Azazel, “...” You want to slap it to me?

He’s not going to get murdered tonight, right?

Eon, “Haha.”

Azazel gulped.

Two people stared at each other before giggling with amusement, their small laughs playing for a while. Not long after, an idea then popped up inside Eon’s head, “...it can be an ammo for handguns and snipers.”

The man also stopped laughing and snapped his fingers, looking at the scribbled paper, “I was thinking about frisbees but that works too.”

Eon leisurely commented, “We do have entirely different perspectives...” The woman's hand grabbed the pen and started writing, there was no time to waste. “Weapons will be nice too, modern era but with old weapons upgraded mechanically. Shooting!”

“What if, there's two main characters, there's a dialogue that goes: Even if you’re there, as long as there’s a threat left to shoot, my bullet will pierce only them.” Azazel created a motion as if blowing a smoke on top of the gun's muzzle. “Both main damage dealers I say. For the main characters I mean.”

Wow, what a cliche.

“That's a good one.” Eon created notes at the side regarding their discussion, taking a bite from the cake from time to time. “Apocalypse?”

“What?”

“That would be good, it’s the most popular genre today.”

Azazel looked at the woman.

「...apocalypse?」

Eon became giddy, excitedly writing on another paper with small illustrations and descriptions about the game's mechanics. “For an indefinite and very long period of time, often a period exaggerated for humorous or rhetorical effect—Eons. Someone must break the cycle for her to stop going back in time.”

There's lore already??

Azazel started reading the little notes left unsaid, creating a small ‘o’ with his mouth.

“Why are you using pens and paper?” The man opened his device and swiped a blank electronic note towards the woman. “Use these instead.”

“Shh, shh, I'm writing this down. My head is surging with ideas!”

Azazel, seeing his partner starting to focus, looked with dote. He was surprised when the woman suddenly grabbed his forearm.

“Think of any titles! You're very creative...” Eon shook him, eyes full of hope.

Being questioned so suddenly, Azazel suggested a bland name.

“Plates and Guns...?” Azazel murmured.

Eon, “Oh wow, exceptionally creative.”

Azazel, “No wait.”

“Hm?”

“Plate... Apocalypse?”

Eon carefully assessed the man's expression. Nodding, “It sounds straight to the point and... a little unusual.. ‘Plate Apocalypse’ sounds like a comedy.”

“But by the looks of your papers, I don't think this would be even an inch near to comedy.” Azazel said, taking one of the papers from the table.

Eon lightly chuckled, “Players will also ask, why does it have plates?”

Azazel replied leisurely, landing a soft peck on the woman's lips. “Because we said so.”

The woman, on the other hand, caressed the man’s hair, each strand felt by her fingertips had the same color of amber. Once their eyes gazed at each other, it was as if the world slowed down and became even more tranquil.

One had the sun in his eyes. Bright, and ethereally radiant. And the others have the night as its center, surrounded by a ring of a lighter color.

But, nothing ever peaceful lasts forever...

Azazel, “Finish your sweets, I'm going to check for the person you saw.”

...any of the game’s development halted not even two months after.

Author's Note:

This series updates every Wednesday and Saturday, 6:00 AM PST. Thank you for reading!