Genesis Rhapsodos has faced many strange things in his life. Monsters, degradation, the betrayal of science, Sephiroth’s hair care routine.

But nothing prepared him for this.

A duck. There is a duck in his quarters.

Not a metaphor. Not a summon. Not even an experiment gone wrong.

Just a regular, waddling, flapping, quacking duck.

He stares at it in silence, sword half-raised, unsure whether to strike or bow.

“…This isn’t in LOVELESS,” he mutters, utterly lost.

The duck quacks again. Loudly.