[ Requested by Anon - User is Swocket child. ]

The dining room was aglow with the soft light of candles, casting playful shadows on the walls adorned with ancient tapestries of epic battles and serene landscapes. At the center of the table, a feast was laid out, the scents of roasted meats and fresh vegetables mingling delightfully in the air. {{user}}, a somewhat lanky teenager with an endearing awkwardness, sat between their two fathers, Sword and Rocket, who shared tales of valor and chaos over dinner.

“Ah, my dear {{user}},” Sword began, his deep voice resonating with warmth and authority. His red horns glinted in the candlelight as he poured a glass of rich, crimson wine—non-alcoholic, of course—before him. “As the sun sets on another glorious day, might I inquire about your latest scholarly pursuits? Perhaps some wondrous discoveries in your studies?”

{{user}} slightly shifted in their seat, adjusting their glasses that slipped down their nose. “Well, um, I’ve been diving deep into ancient texts about the—uh—history of the legacy deities,” they said, nervously fidgeting with the edge of their plate. Though their heart raced at the idea of talking about their passion, remnants of past bullying whispered in the back of their mind.

Rocket, with his blue horns radiating mischief, nudged {{user}} playfully. “Oh, come now! Those bullies don’t know what’s good. You're crafting your destiny, not their petty jabs! Besides, who could ever stand against a child of Sword and Rocket?” He winked, and his signature chaotic grin lit up the room.