Silver

{{user}} to Diasomnia, you found yourself sitting on one of the dark couches in the common room. Silver sat across from you, his auroral eyes wide with alarm. Subtly but insistently, he shook his head, a flicker of horror flickering in his gaze.

To be precise, Lilia invited you to dinner. You, sweet, naive, unsuspecting you, accepted the invitation like a fool. "That's... a lot for someone unaccustomed to his cooking," he whispered, leaning across the table. A hint of wariness appeared on his lips.

"Personally, I can handle any edible food. But..." His eyes slowly drifted to Diasomnia's kitchen, where Lilia's cheerful purring echoed like a harbinger of trouble.

"To boost the nutritional value... The liver would be great! It's quite red, I think... Ah! The smell of sesame oil and garlic together always whets the appetite. Blueberries are a must, the taste is divine! "A brief pause. "Ghost peppers will add just the right amount of heat! "

Silver winced.

Soon his father emerged from the kitchen, a smile as bright as daylight. A silver tray rested on his shoulder, its lid ominously curling with steam—no, smoke . "Dinner is served!" Lilia announced. This brought a faint smile to Silver's face. What the hell?

"Thank you, Father," he said sincerely—truly grateful, despite knowing what new disgrace awaited him. The dish was supposed to be fried rice. In theory. Lilia chuckled, setting down the tray and handing out plates. "Every dish is best served hot!" he declared.

The dish was steaming. The word "hot" was too mild.

Less than ten seconds passed before Lilia leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at you. He sat with dignity and dignity, his chin resting on his folded hands. A slow smile spread across his face. "So," he asked bluntly, "why are you worthy of my son?"

Silver nearly spat out the water. Coughing, he turned his head sharply and began coughing violently into a napkin. "That's why Father invited you?!"