Timothy moved slowly toward the kitchen, still carrying the weight of last night's conversation in his mind.

As he passed Anna's usual perch, he paused, studying the spider.

She seemed either asleep or deep in some hibernation, but after a few seconds under his stare, she cracked open two eyes and stared right back, silent and unblinking.

With an exasperated sigh, Timothy turned away and left her to her stasis.

The house was as silent as ever, darkness pressing against the windows.

In the kitchen, he perched on the countertop, a bottle of water in hand, letting the cool plastic sweat against his palm.

His thoughts churned, trying to sort through Anna's revelations, but the effort only yielded loops of repetition.

Instead of clarity, all he found were more questions crowding his mind.

"Tch. This is annoying," Timothy muttered under his breath.

He hopped down from the counter, planted his hands on the floor, and launched into push-ups.

Each thrust upward was driven by a growing frustration, a silent punishment he doled upon himself for failing to untangle the chaos in his head.

When his arms began to burn, he shifted to squats, then to sit-ups, each movement fevered and forceful.

Even when the system chimed to notify him that his training had registered as complete, the sense of release he craved still eluded him.

With sudden decisiveness, he flung the door open and stepped into the cool dawn air, still clad in simple casual clothes that passed for sleepwear.

Without pause, Timothy took off running.

His body lunged forward like a taut elastic released, his strides whipping him down the dark streets.

Air ripped through his lungs in ragged breaths as he pushed himself harder, faster.

He darted past vehicles that seemed to crawl in comparison, his feet striking the asphalt in relentless rhythm.

And still… his heartbeat remained annoyingly calm.

No matter how hard he pushed, his core felt steady and measured.

His arms might give out eventually.

His legs might seize and buckle.

But his heart remained a quiet, unshaken drumbeat.

It wasn't normal.

He wasn't normal and he knew it.

He barely noticed where his feet carried him, his mind slipping into scattered thoughts even as his body stayed in motion.

'What exactly am I so upset about?'

The answer was there, even if he didn't want to admit it.

It was the gnawing feeling of exclusivity or the loss of it.

The idea that he'd been unique, special.

The only one.

Now he knew others existed with systems too.

And instead of making him eager to grow stronger, the realization left a bitter taste in his mouth.

How many species are out there in the world? And how many beyond it?

Animals.

Insects.

Plants.

All of them might harbor sentient counterparts, hidden or waiting somewhere.

Anna's existence was proof enough.

She wasn't an anomaly; she was likely part of a larger truth he hadn't yet grasped.

So what does that make me? Just one in seven billion?

For a moment, his thoughts flicked to his hybrid trait, the human who'd bonded with the termite system.

It forced him to wonder: Which species does my system even belong to? Am I still human at all?

He didn't get much further.

A sudden wave of weightlessness washed over him, leaving him feeling almost boneless and untethered.

His limbs slackened, and his senses blinked into disarray.

It was then he finally noticed the bright system notifications flashing urgently before his eyes, messages he'd been too consumed to see until now.

But before Timothy could process the alerts or comprehend what was happening, the world fell away beneath him.

And in the next instant… he was gone.

More simply, He was no longer on Earth.

Meanwhile, outside Timothy's apartment, a car pulled up and parked across the street.

A bald man in a crisp, formal suit stepped out, a modest suitcase gripped in one hand.

He approached the front door and knocked twice, though the effort made his knuckles redden with pain.

The material felt sturdier than it looked.

He waited, stepping back slightly, a faint shiver running through him as he sensed the mana-dampening field emanating from the house.

A minute ticked by.

No reply.

Miebaka frowned.

It was odd.

Timothy possessed sharp perception and was usually awake early, there was little chance he'd be asleep at this hour.

With a moment's hesitation, Miebaka stepped forward and knocked again.

Still, there was nothing.

Growing uneasy, he fished his phone from his pocket and dialed Timothy's number, only now realizing he should've tried calling sooner.

He let it ring until it disconnected, then called again.

No answer.

He couldn't tell if Timothy was ignoring him, as he occasionally did, or simply hadn't seen the calls.

"I remember telling them I'd get back to them," Miebaka muttered under his breath.

A faint sound from inside the house broke his thoughts.

He turned sharply toward the door but heard nothing more, the silence pressing in around him like thick air.

For a moment, he wondered if he was imagining things.

He was still standing just outside the dampening field when another soft skittering noise reached his ears.

This time, he was sure of it.

He stepped forward, knocked lightly once more, and called out:

"Is anyone in there?" His voice was low but clear enough to carry inside.

No reply came, but he wasn't expecting one.

His hand closed around the doorknob, twisting gently. He half-expected resistance, Timothy's door usually locked itself automatically if engaged.

Instead, the knob turned freely, and the door swung open, causing Miebaka to stumble forward in mild surprise.

The door hadn't been locked.

Miebaka blinked but quickly regained his composure.

Leaving the door slightly ajar behind him, he stepped in, weaving in and out of the mana-dampening zone of the door

His instincts screamed caution.

Timothy was nowhere to be seen, the door had been left open, and he'd heard skittering sounds inside.

He wasn't armed, but he trusted his abilities against most threats and this was still a public neighborhood.

There were reasons he left the door open behind him.

He scanned the living room, noting that it looked untouched since his last visit.

No signs of a struggle or intrusion.

He filed that detail away.

Next, he moved toward the kitchen and saw Timothy's phone resting on the counter, the screen still faintly glowing.

Miebaka stepped closer, noticing his own missed calls displayed on the screen.

He rolled his eyes, briefly annoyed at the nickname Timothy had saved him under, but made a mental note to complain about it later.

He was just about to move toward Timothy's bedroom when he noticed something odd.

The door to the room was slightly open.

He distinctly remembered it being closed a second ago.

Miebaka approached the door cautiously, leaning in to peer through the gap.

At first, he saw nothing unusual.

He kept his feet planted outside the threshold as he nudged the door wider.

And then he saw it: a massive ball of white and pink, bristling slightly, four glittering eyes fixed directly on him from the far end of the room.

Miebaka held his breath, instantly recognizing the creature. Anna.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Anna's gaze dropped from Miebaka's face to the suitcase clutched in his hand, her eyes narrowing slightly in eerie, silent curiosity.

Miebaka followed her stare down to the case, feeling a sudden discomfort crawl up his spine.

He tried to push the thought away.

Of course, she could sense it; she was a monster, and most monsters had perception that could outclass the average hunter's.

"Fuck it," he muttered under his breath, deciding to brave the encounter.

"I'm looking for your..."

He cut himself off.

He'd been about to say master, but he remembered Timothy telling him the relationship between himself and his termites was more like family.

Whether that extended to Anna or not, he couldn't be sure, but the spider didn't seem overtly hostile.

"…I'm looking for Timothy," Miebaka said finally, his voice steady as he met her eyes.

Anna kept staring at the suitcase for several seconds before turning her attention back to Miebaka.

He started wondering if perhaps she didn't actually understand human language, and that maybe Timothy used some other means to communicate with her.

It wouldn't have been far-fetched.

But then, to his surprise, she gave a slight shake of her head.

That did little to truly answer his question, so he pressed on.

"No… he's not around? Or no, you haven't seen him?" Miebaka asked, misjudging how willing she might be to engage in conversation.

Anna, however, didn't move from her spot, merely keeping her eyes trained on him.

Two of those eyes shifted again to glance at the suitcase.

Miebaka, realizing he wasn't going to get a spoken answer, tried another approach.

"I mean… he was here earlier today, right?"

The spider gave a small nod.

"So he went out?"

She nodded again, this time slower.

Miebaka quickly caught on to how the conversation could work: only yes or no questions.

He briefly considered taking advantage of this to ask more, but he knew there was always the possibility she might lie about anything important especially if she was a sentient creature.

Despite the uncertainty, he concluded Timothy had to be somewhere nearby.

Summoners, as a rule, rarely left their summoned creatures far from them and Timothy would know better than to abandon a dungeon creature alone in the house.