The sun was gentle this afternoon—its rays spilling across the porch like a warm invitation. A soft breeze stirred the curtains, carrying the faint rustle of leaves and the scent of earth after last night's rain.
[Mother] stood at the door, arms crossed, a serene look on her face.
[Mother]
"House was pretty peaceful today."
Then—
Honk! Honk!
The sound of the school bus echoed down the street.
[Mother]
(Sighing softly)
"Little demon is back."
The gate creaked open.
[Tobey]
"I'm home!"
[Mother]
"Welcome back, honey."
[Tobey]
"Today was fun!"
[Mother]
"Oh yeah? What did you do?
First go change your clothes, then come to the living room. We'll talk after."
Tobey nodded, already trotting off toward his room.
The house was quiet again for a brief moment—only the distant ticking of the hallway clock and the low chirping of birds outside kept it company.
A few minutes later, Tobey returned, now in clean, comfy clothes.
He launched into a dramatic retelling of his school day—complete with exaggerated hand movements and suspiciously convenient sound effects.
[Father]
(From the front door)
"I'm home."
[Mother & Tobey]
(in sync, cheerful)
"Welcome home!"
They both turned toward him with sparkles in their eyes.
[Father]
(Grinning)
"Yes, yes. I haven't forgotten.
Let me take a bath first, then I'll go to the supermarket."
[Tobey, curious]
"What's that book you're holding?"
[Father]
"Oh, this?"
(Lifts the book like a trophy)
"1,000 Rules Not to Break in Biology.
Written by yours truly—along with fifty-six scientists."
[Tobey]
"But… you're not a scientist."
[Father, raising an eyebrow]
"But who said I can't write?"
[Tobey]
"Fair."
[Mother, walking by]
"The bath's ready. You both can go."
[Father]
(Smirking)
"May we?"
[Tobey, mock-serious]
"Yes, sir."
The bathroom was warm and slightly foggy. A faint smell of eucalyptus from the soap drifted in the air. The quiet splash of water echoed gently in the tiled room, broken only by the occasional plip as drops fell from the faucet into the tub.
Steam curled upward like lazy clouds, wrapping the space in sleepy calm.
[Father, scrubbing Tobey's back]
"Did you read any books?"
[Tobey]
"Yeah, I finished one. It's super easy—anyone could understand it."
[Father]
(Chuckling)
"That's my boy.
Hmm… your skin feels... unusual."
[Tobey]
"You're seeing things."
[Father, squinting suspiciously]
"…Okay. Now it's your turn."
[Tobey]
"Yes!"
After the bath, both dressed and refreshed—
[Father]
"Let's go now."
[Tobey]
"Yesss."
[Mother, peeking from the kitchen]
"Can I come too?"
[Father]
(Putting on his jacket)
"Yes. Who's stopping you?"
The narrator cuts in—
[Narrator]
Of course he said yes.
Like he'd dare say no to the true Empress of the household.
He knows better.
They stepped out into the mellow afternoon.
Tobey's eyes lit up as they walked through the sliding doors.
[Tobey]
"This supermarket is huge!"
[Father]
"You've never been to one before?"
[Tobey]
"Let's roam around!"
[Mother]
"Just don't wander off, okay?"
[Tobey]
"Yes!"
[Mother, waving as she walks off]
"I'm heading to the ladies' clothing section. You two behave."
The supermarket's AC hummed a low, mechanical lullaby. The scent of floor polish mixed oddly with garlic bread from the bakery aisle. Fluorescent lights flickered like the gods were blinking.
[Narrator, whispering like a sports commentator]
And just like that, our man [Father] has been abandoned in hostile territory. A battlefield of neon signs, aggressive shopping carts, and impulse buys at eye level. He's now trapped in the wild aisles of Discounts, Chaos, and Child Supervision.
[Father, sighing]
"Let's go to the food section. But before that…"
A shadow crossed his face. The cheerful hum of the store dulled for a moment, replaced by tension.
[Tobey noticed]
[Tobey]
"…Yes?"
(He rarely saw that face on his dad—calm, but calculating. Like a beast waking up.)
Then it happened.
The stranger emerged from the end of the aisle.
Two men locked eyes.
The tension was thick enough to butter toast with.
They moved toward each other. Not a word. Not a blink.
Hands raised—not in peace, but in precision.
And BAM!—their fists collided with each other's stomachs. One on [Father], one on the stranger.
The sound? Not flesh hitting flesh.
It was like punching a reinforced lunchbox.
A clink. A thud.
A clear "ow-that's-not-human" kind of hit.
[Stranger, wincing]
"Shit, it hurts, fx-spider."
[Father, smirking, pulling a frying pan from under his shirt]
"Ohh, yeah. 777."
[Narrator, impressed]
The fact this man had a pan under his shirt the whole time and didn't rattle while walking is a talent in itself. What else is he hiding? A toaster oven? A bazooka?
[777, chuckling]
"As always… ten steps ahead."
[Tobey]
"Who is he, Dad?"
[777, smug]
"Is this your kid, fx-spider?"
[Father]
"You heard it. And no adult jokes near my kid. Or I'll hang you from the supermarket signboard, legs up."
[777, hands raised]
"Okay, okay. You can drop your guard now."
[Father, calmly deadly]
"I never put my guard up when you're around. Heck… I can only put my guard down when you're around."
[Narrator]
Translation: "You're the only idiot I trust to screw things up the right way."
Tobey looked at both of them like they were walking, talking puzzle cubes.
[777]
"How's life?"
[Father]
"Still undercover."
[777]
"What's the mission?"
[Father]
"To gather proof the company I'm working for is doing shady things."
[777]
"Classic."
[Tobey, not letting it go]
"You still didn't answer my question."
[Father]
"This is 777. And 777, meet Tobey, my son."
[777]
"Bad idea to share the name of your kid."
[Father, smirking]
"Like you'd hurt him."
[Tobey, thinking]
"Another day, another version of Dad unlocked."
[Tobey]
"The security cameras can hear us."
[Father]
"Don't worry. 777 already handled that."
[777, proud]
"I'm on holiday, but I'm not on break."
[777, with a curious tilt]
"How's patient 104… or should I say, your wife?"
[Father, voice colder now]
"She's better. And she has a name."
[777, nodding with guilt]
"Right… habit. Sorry. You know how we get."
[Father]
"Okay Tobey, this guy's my old partner in justice."
[Tobey]
"Wait… partner in what now?"
[777]
"He means we worked together in the good ol' spy days. Do you know your dad's a spy?"
[Tobey, deadpan]
"I suspected it from the beginning."
[777]
"Rick, you didn't tell him?!"
[Father]
"Didn't want to blow my cover with a five-year-old."
[777]
"Fair point."
[Father]
"Let's have dinner together."
[777]
"Sure, do."
[Father]
"We'll get supplies. Come on."
[777]
"Let's hit the spy section."
[Tobey, blinking]
"This supermarket has a spy section?"
[Father]
"Of course."
[Narrator, muttering]
Some stores have secret candy aisles. This one has clearance tags and classified weapons.
They entered the elevator. Rick input a code. The panel flashed.
[777]
"We're here."
[Tobey, unimpressed]
"Looks the same. Where's the cool stuff?"
[777]
"Same thought."
[Father]
"This place is new. Supplies come later."
[777]
"Right."
Back to the food aisle.
[Tobey]
"Why do you call Dad fx-spider?"
[777, grinning]
"Spy tags. We don't use real names. Fx for fox—he's always ten steps ahead. Spider, because once you're in his trap, you can't get out."
[Tobey]
"Makes sense… explains the wall-pinning."
[777, eyebrow raised]
"With what?"
[Tobey]
"Fountain pen."
[777, pausing mid-step]
"…Fountain pen. That's new. Might be a custom trick. I've been pinned by axes, fan blades, knives… even frozen shrimp once. But fountain pens? That's poetic."
[Tobey, smirking]
"Glad to know I'm not the only one."
[777, laughing]
"You're not."
[Tobey]
"What about your tag—why 777?"
[777]
"Your dad gave it to me. I always survive deadly situations. Pure dumb luck."
[Father, dryly]
"Last time you fell in a river on the way to Sector A, I tossed a lifeguard in after you. Not luck. Just me saving your ass for the 777th time."
[777]
"…That's cold, Rick."
[Tobey, giggling]
Then…
[Tobey, curious again]
"What about Mom?"
[Tobey]
"What about my mom?"
[777]
(Straightening slightly, voice quieter now—almost respectful)
"She was… one of the many test subjects of a mad scientist in Russia. All the other subjects died during the experiments. Your mother… she was the only one who survived."
The supermarket lights above them buzzed softly, one flickering faintly like a failing heartbeat.
[777, continuing]
"Your father… he took down the entire organization. Alone. For someone he didn't even know. At that time, your mother was just a civilian."
[Tobey, lips parting slightly, blinking]
"What was the scientist doing?"
[777, his voice now lined with old weight]
"He was trying to create the perfect human being. Not through inspiration. Through death. Torture. Brutality."
Silence.
Only the creaking sound of a cart's wheel echoed down the aisle. Distant chatter faded beneath fluorescent hum.
[777, lowering his voice]
"Your father and I—we tried to destroy all of it. But he stopped me. Said if that research could be completed without blood… maybe it could change the world."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
[777]
"So we told the organization everything was lost. Destroyed. But it wasn't. We secretly gathered 56 trusted scientists to finish it… but they all gave up."
He gave [Rick] a knowing look.
[777]
"The entire thing was in a language no one understood."
[Tobey, quietly]
"…I think I've read some of those books."
[Rick, eyes wide]
"Tobey, noooooooo—"
[777, calmly placing a hand over Rick's mouth]
"Let me guess…"
(looks at Tobey, one brow raised)
"You couldn't read what was written on the research papers, right?"
[Tobey]
"Yeah… but I understood the 'Advanced Biology' books. And a few others."
The silence returned—but heavier now. Like it was pressing on their backs.
[Rick, muttering once 777's hand is off his mouth]
"I… I didn't plan for this."
[Narrator, from somewhere far above the cereal aisle, deadpan]
A spy, a rogue agent, and a five-year-old child casually understanding research that baffled fifty-six scientists. This is either a miracle… or the beginning of something terrifying.
[777, eyes flicking between father and son, amused but cautious]
"Rick… you've got some explaining to do."
[Rick, sighing, rubbing his temple]
"Yeah. That… that wasn't part of the plan."
[Tobey, in his mind]
"Another day, another reason to question everything I thought I knew."
And so they continued shopping—like it was just another errand. Like life hadn't just twisted into something unrecognizable.
As they walked down the long, humming aisle toward the checkout, fluorescent lights buzzing faintly above, Tobey stayed a step behind.
The shopping cart creaked.
The lights flickered once, like a blink from the heavens.
[Tobey, whispering to himself]
"If Mom was a test subject… and Dad was the hero…"
He paused.
His small hands clutched the edge of the cart, knuckles pale.
"…Then what… am I?"
The supermarket radio played a soft, offbeat loop.
A children's jingle, warped slightly. Slowing down like a music box winding out.
[Narrator, low and whispering, like a question bleeding through the static]
And that, dear reader, is a very, very good question. and hit that plus icon