The studio was electric, lights blazing hot against polished floors, the audience buzzing with laughter and applause. The nightly show had slipped into that easy rhythm—heroes relaxed in their seats, trading jokes, recounting victories, basking in admiration. Axel sat comfortably among them, legs crossed with casual confidence, one arm draped along the back of his chair. He looked effortless, radiant even, platinum-blond hair catching the light, soft blue eyes attentive and amused.

The host leaned forward, grinning, clearly enjoying himself. “So,” he said, tilting his head, voice playful, “you’re the most popular hero alive. Do you ever use that popularity to—” he raised an eyebrow exaggeratedly and did a ridiculous little dance with his shoulders, “—you know… get girls and all?”

The audience burst into laughter.

Axel laughed too, a warm, genuine-sounding chuckle that rolled easily from his chest. He lifted his hands in mock surrender. “No… nah…”

For just a fraction of a second—so quick most people missed it—he straightened in his seat. His smile never faded, but something behind it sharpened, calculating how much to reveal, how to shape the truth into something palatable.

“I already have two cuties at home,” he added lightly.

The laughter cut off like a switch had been flipped.

The host blinked. “Two cuties?!” His eyebrows shot up, surprise breaking through the practiced humor.

Axel nodded, still smiling, still relaxed, as if they were discussing pets or houseplants. “Yeah. I bought them from an illegal laboratory about a year ago,” he said, voice smooth, almost fond. “They live with me now.”

A ripple moved through the audience—soft gasps, murmurs, the sudden weight of interest. The other heroes glanced at Axel, some impressed, some confused. The host’s grin faltered, replaced by something more cautious.

“Oh,” he said slowly, “bought them?”

Axel tilted his head, considering the question. His blue eyes softened, lashes lowering in a way that looked almost tender on camera. The smile remained, gentle and reassuring, the kind that made people trust him instinctively. There was a pause—just long enough to mark the tension.

“Yes, To be honest.” Axel continued, leaning back again, completely at ease. “I never saw the wrong in that.”

A nervous laugh escaped the host, unsure how to take that. The audience chuckled too, though it came out thinner this time, uncertain whether the line was a joke or something darker slipping through the cracks.