The Omnivale training room was cold, the metallic scent of old sweat and scuffed mats clinging to the air. The lights were bright and tense, almost intimidating in how little they left to hide.
Ren stood opposite Vilnius, his training sword gripped tight in his hands, his muscles aching from the hours they'd already spent sparring.
His father—no, Vilnius—watched him with a cool, detached expression, barely holding a proper stance with his sword like he had all the time in the world to wait for Ren to get it together.
It wasn't what Ren had imagined when he thought about meeting him.
Then again, he'd told himself not to expect anything.
It didn't matter.
It still stung.
Vilnius tilted his head, regarding him with the same casual disinterest someone might give a faulty weapon.
"You're distracted," he said bluntly.
Ren exhaled through his nose, adjusting his stance. "I'm fine."
Vilnius raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. He stepped forward slowly, boots scuffing against the mat.
"You're not. Why waste my time if you aren't doing this properly. I could be training with Kaunas."
Ren tightened his grip on the hilt, the leather squeaking faintly beneath his fingers. He refused to look away.
His father was always blunt with him, he wasn't used to it yet. He knew very little about Vilnius beyond what his mother told him. Ren was the one who grew up in a warzone and yet his father who grew up in luxury was the one who was cold and hardened..
She had been kind in her description so it didn't prepare Ren for the truth.
In the few weeks that he had known his father, he had understood Ren's mission and rose to the challenge, but it felt like he didn't see him as his son. He was a proud man with little love for anything other than his own ego.
Vilnius smirked slightly, but it wasn't kind. "Clearly I didn't raise you, or you'd have more fight in you".
Ren's jaw locked.
Vilnius' words hit harder than any sparring blow.
Not because they were cruel.
Because they were true.
Because it felt like Vilnius saw right through him—and still didn't see him at all. A lot of ego for a man who couldn't defend his home and left Ren to survive the aftermath.
There was a pause, heavy and humming between them.
Then Vilnius shook his head once. He turned, walking away without a backward glance. The door thudded closed behind him, leaving Ren standing alone in the cold, humming silence.
For a moment, Ren didn't move.
He could still hear the echo of Vilnius' boots, still feel the sting in his chest that had nothing to do with training and everything to do with the sharp, unmet hope he hadn't realized he was carrying.
Maybe it wouldn't have mattered.
Maybe even if Vilnius had been there, had raised him, it would've been the same—disappointment delivered in terse sentences, respect earned only through battle, not blood.
Ren stood there, Vilnius was right. He needed to clear his head, he was distracted, by the normal, the mundane, just hanging around doing nothing, forgetting his responsibilities for just a moment.
It was distracting.
Ren let his sword drop to his side, the tip clinking dully against the floor.
He needed to get his head together, and only one person was going to help him. Zoe.
--
The lab always smelled like metal and ozone—like a storm trapped in wires.
Ren stood in the doorway for a moment, watching Zoe work.
She was hunched over a workbench cluttered with documents, her blonde hair messy from concentration, her glasses pushed up onto her forehead and forgotten.
She hadn't heard him yet.
For a second, Ren just stayed there, not ready to speak.
The ache in his arms from training with Vilnius was nothing compared to the ache under his ribs—the heavy, unspoken feeling that he didn't belong anywhere he was supposed to.
She glanced up, finally noticing him and frowned. "Jeez, you look worse than usual. Vilnius beat the hell out of you, huh?"
Ren exhaled, rubbing his neck. "Yeah, but it's worth it, he's a fast learner."
She was sat awkwardly in her seat; pregnancy was not a look that suited her. "Ugh, I ate a whole tub of ice-cream, I'd be ashamed but technically it's your fault I'm like this. Hope you're proud of yourself." Her tone was light and playful, a side of her only a few got to see.
He gave her a sympathetic smile. "You're the one who wanted kids."
Zoe leaned back in her chair looking into his eyes like she could read his mind. "You seem off. What's up?"
Ren shifted slightly in the doorway. It wasn't easy for him to talk about this—this feeling, this disconnect.
But if there was one person in this world who might understand, it was the Omnivale Chief biologist and figurehead; Zoe Harper. The one person who had ever shown him any love and compassion.
For a beat, neither of them spoke.
Ren crossed the room, lowering himself into a chair across from her.
The lab lights buzzed faintly, filling the silence between them highlighting a rare moment he was struggling to open up even to her. The woman who mattered to him most.
Finally, he said, "It's just... harder than I thought."
Zoe nodded, like she'd been expecting that answer. "Harder how?"
Ren dragged a hand through his hair. "This city. Him. All of it. I thought—"
He stopped himself, shaking his head.
Zoe waited, patient.
"I thought maybe," Ren said slowly, "meeting him would feel like... like gaining something I didn't have before. That he would ground me here. Fill in some of the gaps in my life.."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm just... struggling to adjust."
Zoe set her pen down, her expression softening. "Because this isn't your home?"
He nodded.
She studied him for a moment, then leaned forward. "I get it. It's been hard adjusting to all this." She waved around her arm flippantly, gesturing at the sterile and corporate environment.
She took a slow breath, choosing her words. "All you know is survival, and the biggest problem people have here is wondering what to have for dinner. I'm sure most people's problems seem mundane to you."
He looks down, a smile forming. "I actually like the mundane. It beats wondering if you're going to live to see the next day." His smile faded.
"I bet, it can be a nice change of pace." She picks up her pen and twirls it thoughtfully. "Sorry... I haven't had a lot of time for you since you arrived."
Ren stayed quiet, staring at the floor. "It's fine, I don't expect you to. You've got your career, I know it's important. Plus we have preparations to make."
Zoe sighed. "Well if we're going to save the whole world, then maybe it's worth understanding what you're saving?"
Ren looked up, confused.
Zoe gestured around them. "You already come from a warzone, you never had this. A normal, peaceful life. It's not perfect, and clearly it might not last, but it's still a life. You never got to have that. So maybe instead of just training with the supernatural all day, you should understand and enjoy what you're trying to save."
Ren frowned. "You think I should just... go out and do normal things?"
"Yeah! Go to a movie, grab lunch somewhere, hell, take a damn nap without worrying about when you'll wake up. You're so damned tense!" She smirked.
Zoe leaned back in her chair. "Look, Ren. You don't have to stop training the others. But don't let yourself forget why we're doing all this. I'm sure the city can afford you a few moments of joy."
She smiled. "It hurts me seeing you so lost."
She looks down at her body with a sincere expression, putting a hand on her distended stomach. "Pregnancy sucks,.. I hope you're proud of yourself . Absolutely ruined my body."
"Hey, you chose me." he smirked.
Maybe Zoe was right. She usually was. He should live more in the moment, like she does.
He sighed "Thanks Zoe." He then reached over, embracing her. Grounding himself.
She patted him gently on the shoulder, shifting her awkward body.
She cared about Ren, more than she could put into words. Loved him in a way that couldn't be measured, but she couldn't help but laugh at how naive he could be.
—-
The days blurred together after that.
Training Vilnius, sometimes his uncle Kaunas, if they could stand to be in the room together long enough. He watched how they then trained their respective pack leaders.
He'd hang out with Zoe when she could make time for him though he felt like sometimes he was just bothering her. He always enjoyed just watching her work, learning from her.
Long hours were spent sparring, strategizing, pushing his body harder than it was probably meant to go.
But no matter how hard the days were—no matter how much the city still felt slightly wrong in ways he couldn't explain—Ren always found himself at the same place when evening came.
The little convenience store.
The automatic doors would slide open with a soft hiss, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, and there she'd be—
Juno.
Usually perched behind the counter with her sketchbook open, one hand tangled in her hair as she drew.
Sometimes humming tunelessly to herself. Sometimes talking with a regular. Sometimes just sitting there, lost in her own world.
Every night he gave himself a reason to go.
Every night he stayed longer than he meant to.
The days blurred together, and before Ren even realized it, stopping by the store had become part of his daily routine. He'd been going there every day for weeks.
He wasn't sure if it was because of what Zoe said or if he would have wanted to anyways—it just happened.
Every evening, after training at Omnivale Industries, he would find himself walking through those automatic doors, greeted by the hum of the fluorescent lights and the familiar sight of Juno leaning on the counter, sketchpad always nearby.
Sometimes he grabbed coffee, sometimes water. A sandwich here, a snack there. And every time, they talked.
It had started small, casual. Just quick chats while she rang up his order. But at some point, it became more.
Some nights, he sat on a spare stool by the end of the counter while she doodled between customers. He watched her work, asked questions about her characters, laughed when she made sarcastic comments about her job. She teased him about his ultra-serious energy, and he teased her back—something he never imagined himself doing with anyone.
He'd talk about movies and books he loved, they found a shared love for horror and science fiction. He was evasive about anything that might give away where he was from. She didn't need to know.
He started joking more with her, as if he could finally be himself, and in doing so learned more about who he is. Even when he was with Zoe he had to hide parts of himself. Be what she expected him to be. He was still lost, but with Juno, in that store, things became simpler.
Juno had no expectations.
It was... easy.
Comfortable.
Something he had never really had before. Something she had never had before.
One evening, Ren leaned against the counter, sipping a can of cheap soda while Juno doodled idly in her sketchbook.
"You know," she said, not looking up, "Omnivale staff keep asking me about you."
Ren raised an eyebrow. "What do you tell them?"
Juno smirked, flicking her pen across the page. "Depends, sometimes I tell them you're an alien, or a new robot design. Sometimes I'll say Zoe Harpers baby-daddy."
She observed his reaction and saw his eyes betrayed him, if only for a second, at the mention of Zoe.
Ren chuckled under his breath. "Sorry to disappoint. Though being an alien would explain a lot I guess. "
He was evading the comment about Zoe. He did know her. Intimately.
Juno shrugged. "Something tells me the truth's more interesting but that's your business. To me you're just Ren, fun hangout alien."
Ren huffed a quiet laugh, feeling a strange warmth crawl under his skin at the way she said it.
He watched her for a moment, the way she scrunched her nose when she was concentrating, the way her hair kept falling into her face.
He didn't realize how long he was staring until she caught him.
"What?" she said, glancing up at him, amused.
Ren shook his head quickly. "Nothing."
Juno grinned, clearly not buying it, but she let it go.
Other nights, it was simpler.
He'd help stock a shelf without asking.
She'd slide him a free drink as thanks.
He'd sit in the corner, they'd chat, listen to the radio, she would tell him about her strangest customers, while he added dry commentary that made her laugh harder than she probably should.
Somewhere along the way, the store stopped being just a pitstop.
It became something else. Somewhere important to him. A quiet respite from Omnivale. From his life.
One night, just before he left, Juno leaned on the counter and said casually, almost too casually:
"You know you don't have to keep buying something just to hang out, right?"
Ren blinked at her, caught off guard.
She smirked, tapping her pen against her sketchbook.
"You're welcome to just come in and sit," she said, softer this time. "I don't mind. I like the company."
Ren felt something in his chest tighten—something small, stupid, and dangerous.
Because he hadn't realized how much he needed to hear that until she said it.
He gave her a rare, genuine smile.
One that made Juno blink once, startled, like she wasn't used to seeing it.
"Thanks," he said quietly. "I might take you up on that."
Juno just shrugged, pretending it wasn't a big deal.
But long after he left that night, she found herself smiling too.