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The significance of this event was immense for Commissioner Gordon, given his workaholic nature and devotion to duty. Naturally, his only daughter Barbara refused to leave her father alone today. Out of consideration, the start of the meal was delayed, ensuring the commissioner wouldn't be upset and allowing Miss Gordon to return home. The centerpiece of the table, as tradition demands, was juicy turkey with a golden, crispy crust. Beside it stood a radiant pumpkin pie—a must-have for any autumn celebration. Cornmeal buns, caramelized sweet potatoes, and nut dessert with maple syrup waited patiently to be enjoyed. Before the feast began, it was customary to give thanks. The privilege of expressing gratitude first was mine.

"Holidays, I believe, shouldn't always be noisy and crowded—they can be warm, intimate, and filled with family in cozy colors. Thanksgiving is exactly that kind of holiday. The table is laden with traditional treats, and for that, I am grateful; I am thankful that we are together now, and thankful that, at this moment, all is well. I want to thank fate for the way things have slowly worked out.

As you know, I have lost my memory—I recall nothing of my past—but I am grateful for this year. This year, I met all of you." I looked fondly at each woman present.

"You are the best thing that has happened to me in this time. I am glad I have fallen in love with you, and grateful that you love me in return. To me, this feels miraculous—exciting and wonderful.

Our relationship is unusual, falling outside ordinary expectations, but that is irrelevant; it is our bond, and we alone are responsible for it. I am truly happy that you accepted and trusted me. No matter what happens, I promise I will not let anyone harm you, and however circumstances unfold, I will protect you."

"How could anyone not love him after that?" Barbara remarked, gazing at me, enchanted.

"Music to my ears," Silver gushed, holding her cheeks in delight.

"I wrote everything down," Victoria added, brandishing her recorder. "If anyone wants a copy, contact me directly" a true journalist, never forsaking her craft, even on a holiday.That's the source of her charm.

Bordeaux said nothing about my speech, but the upturned corners of her lips confirmed she appreciated my words. And Harley? "Can I eat now? Or is it still not allowed?" she asked, looking around—forever in her own world and unwilling to leave it, a trait I genuinely admire.

How the rest of our celebration unfolded is hardly worth detailing. The evening was a resounding success; what that means, you may infer yourself. Far better to describe how my day began.

The morning greeted me with a shrill ringing telephone—loud enough to bring on a headache. Answering was beyond my strength; even reaching the phone was more than I could manage. My nonstop training had taken its toll, and the ordeal I had forced upon myself now weighed heavily. Not even my eyelids would open. Still the phone rang on, and my irritation grew. Unable to answer, I resolved to ignore it. Yet as drowsiness began to yield to deep sleep, a deafening siren pierced my ears—it sounded like nails on glass, a neighbor's drill on a Sunday morning, the cries of countless unhappy infants—all at once. I was so startled I fell from bed; fatigue vanished instantly. Cursing, I caught sight of my phone's keychain—a gift from Pamela meant for extra communication. Normally, it resembled an unopened bud; now, the flower had blossomed and emitted such awful sounds I nearly tore it off in frustration.

"Alex," the siren stopped, and a familiar female voice spoke. "You weren't answering, so I had to reach you another way." It was Pamela.

"What was that?" I snapped at the flower. "Were you trying to kill me? You could have chosen a gentler method—maybe just strangle me in my sleep. Why go to such extremes?"

"I have an important message, and you weren't picking up. I had to get your attention. Isn't it funny?" Pamela laughed dryly.

"How does this thing work? How do you transmit sound through it?"

"That's a secret," she deflected. "For now, focus on what I'm about to say." She paused dramatically. "The super soldier serum is ready."

"Repeat that..."

"We have our first working prototype. It's untested, and we know nothing about the side effects yet, but—"

"You can stop. I'll be there soon," I interrupted, already preparing to leave. The connection ended, and the flower returned to a bud, an ordinary keychain once more.

The day I'd long anticipated was finally here. Today, I'd take a step into the future—not as an ordinary person but as a warrior deserving a place in the sun. After this change, I would not be able to abandon my path. I would join the ranks of the heroes and villains of this world. Crossing Babylon's threshold, I froze—a rush of thoughts overwhelmed me, about my fate and the path ahead. It felt foolish to dwell on purpose, but I could not help it. What awaits, for me and for the world, once I possess power that demands recognition? One thing was certain: I was on the right road.

Step by step, I approached the ampoule containing the serum. Cavito and Pamela stood nearby, explaining production details. I listened attentively, my eyes fixed on the blue liquid.

"Prepare the equipment," I broke the silence. "Today, we test your formula."

"Are you insane?" Kavita burst out.

"We haven't run any additional tests!"

"It's unpredictable how your body will respond; rejection might kill you. We must run more research," Ivy argued, worried.

"Ivy, you're concerned for me," I smiled. "Given that my presence used to sicken you, this means a lot."

"What are you talking about?" she protested. "You're just one of the few men I can stand to communicate with. I'd be sad to lose you in such a stupid way."

"I won't die," I assured her, stroking her red curls. "Your formula is perfect. I have no reason to worry. Be confident."

"How can you know that?"

"It's calling to me," I said, lifting the ampoule. "My intuition is screaming to take it. If there were any danger, I'd sense it—my intuition, like a spider's sense, warns me of threats. Now it's quiet. In fact, it urges me to act. I can't wait. Every second of delay could cost me my life. Start preparing."

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