— 1 January —
The crisp New Year's Day air bit at exposed skin, but inside Greed's Lombard Street mansion, a warm and inviting scene unfolded. The tantalizing aroma of food, a symphony of sizzling bacon and sweet cinnamon rolls, danced through the air, coaxing hungry growls from empty stomachs.
Koyuki, her dark hair cascading down her back in a loose braid, knelt on the plush carpet, her laughter echoing as little Sylvana bounced excitedly beside her. Sylvana, a whirlwind of energy in a bright pink snowsuit, had christened the enormous mixed-breed dog "Sat" in a fit of childish glee.
Sat, sensing the joyful mood, playfully cavorted around the living room, his thick tail thumping a happy rhythm against the floor.
Sylvana, perched precariously but confidently on his broad back, shrieked with delight, her infectious laughter filling the room. A tiny yellow iguana, secured with a miniature harness, clung to Sylvana's head like a living crown, its beady eyes taking in the scene with a miniature reptilian grin.
Daniel stood watch by the French doors leading to the backyard, a gentle smile playing on his lips. His gaze, filled with a mix of amusement and protectiveness, followed Sat's playful movements.
He knew that Sat, or Satan, wouldn't harm Sylvana due to his spell. Its new role as guardian instinctively compelled it to watch over her every move.
The sight of their innocent joy warmed him from the inside out, a welcome contrast to the crisp chill. Inside the mansion, the tantalizing aroma of breakfast – Envy's signature sunny-side-up eggs and sizzling bacon – wafted through the air, coaxing hungry growls from empty stomachs.
The sounds of clinking plates and laughter mingled with the soft murmur of the television playing the news of last night's fireworks and parades. It was a scene of peaceful normalcy, a stark contrast to the fantastical events that often unfolded in their lives, yet one that Daniel found himself cherishing deeply. In this quiet moment, the weight of their extraordinary world seemed to fade away.
Suddenly, a bright voice shattered the tranquility. "Will Aunt Lust, Grandpa Ragnar, and Uncle Dupont visit us today?" Sylvana asked, her face a delightful tapestry of ketchup and egg yolk.
Greed, ever the attentive guardian, chuckled and swooped in with a tissue. With practiced ease, she cleaned the little girl's face, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
Envy, catching Sylvana's question, pondered for a moment. Lust... well, her notoriously energetic celebrations often led to slower starts the next day. Ragnar, the old softie, wouldn't dream of missing a chance to see Sylvana. Dupont, however...
"Geh... this guy! He's getting better and better at using those puppy eyes," Koyuki groaned, a hint of guilt flickering across her features. The sight of Sat's quivering form and those pleading eyes chipped away at her resolve. Beside her, Envy reached out a tentative hand, her voice softer than usual, "Come here, boy. It's alright. I'm sorry... i'm just getting carried away a little"
Envy spoke with guilt as she caressed the dog head which it immediately wagged its tail. "Even so..." Envy tone hardened. "You still need to get vaccinated." She said toward Sat looking at the dog's panicking eyes.
Sat whimpered, his ears flopping dramatically, and his eyes widening at the dreaded "v" word. He looked up at Envy with a gaze that spoke volumes of canine woe. "Vaccinations?" his mournful whimper seemed to say. "Belly rubs sound much more appealing."
"Stop it, drama king. I know all your tricks." Greed chimed in as she munched on the bacon in her mouth.
As for Mammon, he's peacefully munching on his cherry tomato in his peaceful cage. It's good to be an iguana, he didn't need to get vaccinated like that unlucky Satan. Thinking about this, Mammon feels like his situation is much better as his reptilian eyes reflect amusement and pride.
At that moment, the breaking news theme blared from the television, seizing everyone's attention in the dining room. The urgent voice of the reporter reverberated through the space as the headline scrolled across the screen: "Confederacy Forces Attacking New Mexico Border."
Daniel's expression shifted from amusement to seriousness as he turned his gaze toward the screen. Envy and Koyuki exchanged puzzled glances, trying to grasp the sudden change in atmosphere. Little Sylvana, sensing the tension in the air, glanced up from her plate, her eyes widening with curiosity.
Greed set down her fork, her eyes narrowing as she focused intently on the news. Mammon, the iguana, appeared indifferent to the commotion, continuing to nibble on his food without a care. As for Sat, it was undoubtedly a stroke of luck that his masters were engrossed in the news, seemingly forgetting about his impending vaccination.
"Isn't Pride the president's daughter? Didn't she say they didn't want to be my enemy? Or is it just her and her father?" Daniel asked Envy, who was still confused by the news.
"If I had to guess... I think it's the latter, and maybe something might have happened to Pride and her father too," Envy replied, her expression reflecting concern and uncertainty.
The news flickered to life, a stark contrast to the grim silence in the room. The reporter's voice, strained with urgency, cut through the tension as the screen filled with a chaotic ballet of destruction. A vast desert battlefield stretched across New Mexico, the golden sands now stained crimson by the fury of war.
Across this desolate canvas, lumbered the Confederate's Rhino tanks – hulking behemoths, their thick armor reminiscent of history's most feared war machine, the Nazi Tiger. They churned through the sand like prehistoric beasts, leaving trails of dust that choked the desperate resistance of the border guards.
The air crackled with the staccato rhythm of gunfire, punctuated by the booming roars of explosions. The reporter, a lone figure dwarfed by the carnage, kept his voice steady as he described the scene, frustration simmering beneath his professionalism. The camera, held at a safe distance by an unseen hand, trembled slightly, capturing the raw brutality of the battle.