Page 19 of Galactic Sentinels, Vol. 1 (Chronicles of Pherebos #1)

“It’s not bad,” Wingo says, suddenly stepping into the room.

“Wingo!” I scold, startled.

“Yes? What’s wrong?”

“You can’t just walk in like that while I’m getting dressed!”

“Oh? Why not?”

“I could’ve been naked!”

“So? I’m naked too, remember! And I’ve seen Pherebos naked plenty of times! ”

I can’t help but think of Wingo’s comment about Pherebos’s “small but cute” trunk. My beautiful Asgarnian. I blush and giggle at the same time. I can only imagine how furious he’d be if he knew how Wingo described him.

“Oh, that’s good! You two are definitely weird,” Wingo concedes with a playful tone. “I’ll be sure to ask next time!”

“Thank you!” I reply, still a little flustered.

“C’mon! Pherebos made pancakes. And I wasn’t allowed to touch them before you woke up!” he grumbles.

“You’re eating pancakes?” I ask, following him toward the food court.

“Yeah, and don’t think you’re getting my share.”

Pherebos is busy working around a container set on a solar plate. When he sees us approaching, he lifts his head and gives me a look—critical, but clearly appreciative—as he takes in the outfit I’m wearing.

“I asked Akifumi to bring us a couple of Confederation outfits,” he says. “They’re thermoregulated and super comfortable.”

“I know them,” I reply. “I wore them on BN-35.”

“That’s perfect,” he says. “He should be able to get your measurements from your file. For now, let’s just get comfortable. There are pancakes and biloa infusion. Biloa grows fast on terraformed worlds. Deep roots, great for soil health—and it tastes amazing when it’s fresh.”

“Just be careful with the biloa,” Wingo warns. “It makes me really bloated! ”

I chuckle again. Wingo always says exactly what’s on his mind. Pherebos notices my amusement and gives me a curious look.

“Let’s try these crêpes,” I say. “I’ve never had the chance. Not even at the Governor’s parties.”

I take a bite. The warm, fluffy pancake is soft, slightly sweet, and comforting. My two companions watch me closely, waiting for my reaction.

I wink and grab another. That’s all Wingo needs—he pounces on his plate and devours his portion in record time.

By the time we’re done eating, it’s dark outside. The composite walls glow faintly, holding onto the last light of the day. Wingo slumps onto the cushions in the relaxation area, already half-asleep.

I head to my room for my first night on MyFaS.

I wake up feeling... relaxed. For the first time in years, I’ve slept through the night without waking up in a panic. No jolts of fear for Prianka. No guilt gnawing at me over what I did to Henri. Just deep, uninterrupted sleep. And now, I feel completely refreshed.

Maybe I’m finally out of the woods.

The walls let in a soft, fragile light. Morning’s been here for a while.

I get up, get dressed, and head toward the common area.

Pherebos is already there, cooking something. He’s only wearing a pair of loose pants, his long hair tied back casually. My eyes are immediately drawn to his sculpted chest. He’s... stunning.

“Hey, did you sleep well?” he asks, his voice warm and smooth.

“Uh... yes... I think so,” I stammer, caught off guard by his barely-there outfit and the sudden heat rising in my cheeks.

“You think so?” he says with a wink.

“Aren’t you going to get dressed?”

If he stays like this, flaunting that dream body in front of me, I’m not sure I’ll be able to focus on anything else.

“What do you mean, ‘dressed’?” he grins. “I am dressed. You’ll see—the temperature rises fast on MyFaS. The AI heats the air under the dome to trigger condensation and early morning rain cycles. Around here, I go for comfort—hope you don’t mind!”

Does it bother me? Yes. No. I mean… it’s not exactly helping me stay focused.

My tormentor—well, my chef—walks over to the table and pours a steaming mix of cooked vegetables onto our plates.

“After lunch, I’ll show you around the rest of the living area,” he says. “Come eat—it’s ready.”

“You’re cooking?” I point out, a little surprised.

“Always when I’m on MyFaS. On board the SIL, we have to make do with nutrition bars. But here, thanks to a few gadgets I picked up on the black market, I can manage some basic meals.”

“Okay then! ”

I sit down across from him and take a bite of the vegetable mix. It’s warm, tender, and surprisingly flavorful. It melts in my mouth.

“Hey, what’s the deal with these veggies?” I ask, curious.

“On MyFaS, there’s a wide variety of vegetables and plants,” Pherebos explains.

“Not much fruit yet—the trees haven’t reached maturity.

But we do have a few shrubs that produce some really tasty berries.

Right now, it’s mostly insects, which Wingo is very happy about.

No fish, birds, or other animals for now.

They’ll be introduced once all the domes are connected. ”

“I get it,” I say. “It’s like Jaga-18, actually.”

“You’re right,” he nods. “On Jaga-18, the settlers didn’t arrive until much later—after the small animals had found their place in the ecosystem.

Terraforming a dead star takes time. MyFaS’s already come a long way, even if there’s still work to do.

For now, we make do with what’s naturally available and what I bring back from the bases I pass through. ”

He gives me a reassuring look. “I’ll show you which berries are safe to eat and which ones to avoid. As soon as you’re ready, let’s go!”

Outside, the scent of damp earth and blooming flowers is rich and intoxicating. The air is thick with humidity—it must’ve rained while we were having breakfast. Pherebos has swapped into shoes, but he’s still shirtless. Honestly, I almost envy him, given how warm it is out here .

I follow him along a loosely marked path that leads toward the edge of the dome.

“What happens if I cross that border?” I ask, a little uneasy.

“It’ll be freezing cold, and there’s no air out there. You’d have a really bad time. The force field won’t protect you. You could stick a finger through just to feel it, but I really wouldn’t recommend it.”

I laugh nervously. “Okay, I’ll take your word for it.”

As we walk along the perimeter, Pherebos points out which fruits and berries are safe to eat or cook with. I can tell how much this place means to him—it’s his private sanctuary.

Every now and then, a blur of fur zips past us. Wingo seems to love it here too.

I hope I’ll find my own space here—somewhere I can finally breathe, rest, and feel at peace.

The terrain is fairly flat, but I still spot the small lake Pherebos mentioned earlier. Just looking at it calms me.

“Is it deep?”I ask, turning to my guide.

“No idea, and I don’t plan on finding out. It’s about three hundred feet across.”

“I can’t wait to dive in!”I say, excited.

“Absolutely not,”Pherebos snaps, his tone sharp.

“What? Of course I will—unless you tell me it’s dangerous. But you said there were no fish, no animals of any kind.”

“There aren’t. But it’s still dangerous. You’ll stay away from it,”he insists .

This is ridiculous. What exactly is he afraid of?

“Pherebos, I appreciate that you care about my safety, but in this case, your fear isn’t justified.

On BN-35, I’d never seen that much water in one place.

But when we arrived on Jaga-18, we had access to a huge lake.

We went there often—it helped Prianka feel better, and we never worried about her getting hurt while swimming.

That’s where we both learned. It’s actually really nice, you know. ”

“MY base, MY rules!”he snaps, clearly unmoved by my explanation.

His eyes flash—not just with anger, but something else. Fear?

He might actually be good at swimming, but now I’m wondering… does he even know how? And if he doesn’t, would it be okay for me to offer to teach him?

“What if I just stay near the edge?” I try to bargain.

“You’ll stay away from that water. Is that clear?”

I stare at him, stunned. We lock eyes for a moment, then I turn and walk back toward the complex.

I’m disappointed. In the end, Pherebos is just like Henri. He thinks that because he helped me, I should just do whatever he says. I really thought he’d be different.

Just as I’m about to reach the complex, Wingo appears, tumbling in belly-first like he’s been rolling downhill.

“ What happened?” he asks .

“Oh, nothing. That stubborn Asgarnian guy is acting like a dictator, laying down rules like he built the place himself!”

“Are you sure? Pherebos usually isn’t like that. He’s pretty chill most of the time.”

“He banned me from the lake! Just for wanting a swim! Can you believe it?”

“Ah, the lake,” Wingo says knowingly.

“What? I can swim!” I say, a little defensive.

“It’s not about you. Pherebos has a thing with water. Or more precisely, with being submerged. It’s an old trauma. But it’s not my story to tell.”

I’ve been through my own share of pain. So… I’ll let it go. Just this once.