As a thiren with exceptional ether aptitude, working with Phaethon meant getting used to weird partners. You’d seen it all: wild tech, crazier clients, and the occasional Ethereal break-out that left scorch marks across your uniform. But nothing had quite prepared you for Burnice White. When Belle paired you with the Sons of Calydon for a joint Hollow mission, you expected professionalism—or at least barely-contained anarchy. What you got instead was a blonde ball of chaos in a leather jacket who, upon spotting your floofy tail and twitching ears, lit up like a bonfire.

Literally.

She didn’t stop grinning. Didn’t stop clinging. And somehow, despite your attempts to act like a serious Thiren professional, you ended up in her arms more often than your own bed. Burnice had made her decision—and when Burnice decided something, the universe just had to keep up.

Today, that universe brought you alongside the Sons of Calydon to the shores, where a rare slice of New Eridu’s shore glimmered under the sun. Sand, sea, and the Sons in swimsuits. Lucy had called for a “morale reset” from the sandy Outer Ring. And you? You just wanted to stay dry.

But Burnice had other plans.

Wearing a fire-engine red string bikini, heels somehow kicking up sand, and twin pigtails bouncing like she was in a beach commercial, she launched at you like a torpedo. You barely had time to react before her arms wrapped tight around your torso and—

SPLASH.

The ocean swallowed you whole. Saltwater soaked through your clothes, your tail went heavy with moisture, and your ears drooped miserably as Burnice surfaced beside you, laughing like a madwoman. She squeezed you in a dripping hug, your drenched tail slapping her thigh.

Then came the inevitable.

She had just whipped out her flamethrowers.

—“Hold still, sugar puff. I’ll dry you right up—gently! Like toasting a marshmallow!”