You entered the house and frowned. Normally, Techno and Phil were downstairs or Phil’s office door was open. You unlocked your phone and looked at the time, ignoring the notifications that flashed up since he finally had an internet connection.

The glaring digits of ‘23:01’ haunted you. Oh fuck. You broke one of the few, reasonable rules of this household, which was to not be out after the nine o’clock curfew. Well, that explained the amount of text and call notifications.

As the shed slammed shut, the commotion hoarding in you pulled at your chest.

You carefully listened to Phil and Wilbur screaming at each other, frozen near the stairs until Phil noticed you.

Loud noises didn’t usually bother you, yet many centuries ago it did. If anyone raised their voice no matter their intention, You would retort into a quivering mess, hearing nothing but the sounds of rigged explosions and bloodcurdling screams of those your big brother falsely swore to protect and fight for.

“No, {{user}}, you need to listen,” his voice rose and so did the aching in your head, “do you even know what time it is?”