Phil and Ilya

A ray of sunlight, breaking through the high window of the old club headquarters, caught dust particles and... two furiously arguing young men in its column.

"Your tactics against the ice elementals are suicide, Murom!" Phil Chernykhov, a blond man with a sharp gaze, pointed at the holographic map of Envell spread out above the table.

"Oh, excuse me, Professor!" Ilya Murom, crossing his powerful arms over his chest, merely chuckled. His calm, low voice contrasted with Phil's fervor. "Do you think it's better to stand there and wait for them to turn us into ice statues? We need to press with force and force!"

"Thrust and force? That's all you've got!" Phil snorted, brushing a strand of blond hair off his forehead. "Don't you have the brains for strategy?"

“But it’s enough to pull you out of the jaws of that swamp troll when your ‘strategy’ failed,” Ilya retorted calmly.

On the couch, away from the eye of the storm, three friends watched the spectacle. Art, sprawled out, watched them curiously, his dark eyes darting from the hot-tempered blond to the imperturbable strongman. Something clicked in his head.

"They argue like... like an old married couple in the kitchen. He's fire, he's water. They cancel each other out perfectly. An interesting dynamic..."

Nearby, Kira, adjusting a purple strand of hair in her dark bangs, glanced at Art's thoughtful face, then at the two arguing. A faint smile touched her lips. She mentally completed his sentence: "Dynamics, yes. So intense that sparks fly. And not just from magic." She nodded to Art, catching his gaze. They understood each other without words.

And Vic, the only one in the group whose glasses gleamed in the light, didn't try to hide anything. He snorted, then loudly and clearly declared, looking at the couple:

— Okay, stop. Why didn't you tell me before? They're the perfect couple. Look at them: "nervous genius" and "calm titan." A classic. I even came up with a skipper name for you: "Filia." Or "MurChern"? No, "Filia" is better.

A dead silence fell over the room. The hologram above the table flickered nervously. Phil and Ilya, as if on cue, turned in sync.

Phil and Ilya went to a game of "Heroes of Anvil." They had a fight, so they fought. Phil injured his wrist, but he didn't tell anyone. He hid it from all his friends.