It had been three days since the takeout bag creature attack, and things were… not calming down. I barely had time to breathe between all the weirdness. Between the girls rotating through my apartment, the constant barrage of commentary on my every move, and the increasingly bizarre interactions with Greg at work, my life had turned into some kind of supernatural sitcom…

  And not even a good one. More like a mid-season reboot with too many new characters and not enough emotional payoff.

  The girls had started taking shifts hovering around my workplace, like supernatural Uber drivers—but for paranoia. They escorted me to and from work. They joined me for lunch. Lily even stood outside the bathroom like some kind of lingerie-clad Secret Service agent. Things had gotten... weird. I lived in the awkward zone now.

  I sat in my recliner, sipping a cold coffee-adjacent beverage and pretending to look productive while the others clustered around the living room. Despite not having any of the ladies’ direct attention at the moment, I couldn’t help but feel like a hamster in a snake cage.

  Euryale was perched on the edge of the couch, flipping through a magazine, looking ludicrously elegant as always, her blonde hair cascading down her back like she’d just walked off a runway. Lily, red-haired and effortlessly chaotic, was tossing an apple into the air with lazy precision from her perch at the kitchen counter. Elly, of course, was pacing like a wildcat in a too-small cage, her green eyes narrowed, her claws just barely visible under her hoodie sleeves.

  “So,” Elly said, finally breaking the silence with the casual tone of someone about to detonate your whole week, “we’ve got a plan, Daniel. You’re going to start working remotely.”

  “Wait, what?” I blinked. “Greg’s gonna let me do that?”

  "Remember the paperwork he dropped off two days ago? I expedited it and signed on your behalf.”

  I did vaguely remember that, but the packet had vanished the moment it entered the apartment. “Thanks?”

  She shrugged. “After all the chaos at the office, he's decided it's best to keep you out of the line of fire. The office is too dangerous right now, and it's clear you're gonna need... more supervision."

  “And I think I kind of make him uncomfortable,” Euryale added with a lazy smile, not looking up from her magazine.

  I scowled. “More supervision? I already have three of you practically living with me.”

  “Exactly,” Elly said, beaming. “Which is why we need a rotation schedule. We’ll take turns watching you. You’re a VIP now.”

  “I feel more like a royal hostage,” I muttered.

  Lily tossed the apple and caught it again without looking. “A hot royal hostage,” she added with a wink. “And if you keep making that face, Danny, we’re gonna start calling you ‘Prince Pouty.’”

  “You’re still complaining?” Elly asked, eyebrows raised. “I thought you loved attention.”

  “I don’t mind attention,” I grumbled. “But I didn’t expect to give up my personal sovereignty in the process, and the groove in my mattress, carefully worn over years.”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Euryale spoke up, still flipping through the magazine with that detached, cool elegance of hers. "I’ll take the first shift tonight. You need your sleep. The last thing you want is to be exhausted when... whatever comes after you next shows up."

  "Great. Fantastic," I muttered under my breath. "More of this."

  “You’ll get used to it,” Lily chirped as she sprawled across the couch, kicking off her shoes. “And while we’re at it—this place? We’re going to fix it.”

  I froze. “Wait. What?”

  Euryale closed her magazine with a sigh. “Honestly, Dan, we’re trying to protect you. The least you could do is not live like a depressed raccoon.”

  “She’s not wrong,” Elly added, already eyeing a stack of laundry like it personally offended her.

  “Hey,” I protested. “A raccoon’s nest can have character.”

  Before I could process what was going on, Euryale set her magazine down and stood, looking around the room as though assessing my apartment like a work of art. "You know," she began, "I think the first step in your transformation is to get rid of all... this."

  She gestured around the living room, where old pizza boxes, empty cans of soda, and clothes that looked like they'd been through a battlefield were strewn across the place.

  I stared at her, horrified. "What? No way. You’re not—"

  “Your couch has crumb fossils,” Lily said. “We’ve already ordered some things. You’ll love it.”

  And that was how it began.

  The parade of deliveries started around five. Fancy furniture. Absurd curtains. Cleaning supplies by the gallon. It was like watching my apartment be slowly absorbed by an Etsy algorithm.

  I became a background character in my own home. They pulled covers off my bed, replaced curtains, rearranged shelves. I sat on a stool in the kitchen like a toddler in time-out while my life got refurnished. To their credit, it did smell better in here. Less like cold noodles and desperation. More like cedar, cloves, and... whatever perfume Lily always wore that was probably illegal in three states.

  Lily took over the couch like it was a throne, her hair spread out around her like a fiery halo. Euryale read by the window with a book not from my shelf, her posture too regal for someone sitting on my $30 chair from Craigslist. And Elly continued pacing—still vigilant, still glaring out windows like she was daring the next problem to show up.

  I watched them, noticing the way they moved around each other. There was an unspoken rhythm, some underlying understanding I didn’t quite grasp. Elly and Euryale jabbed at each other with teasing insults, but always with a baseline of mutual trust. Lily mostly ignored them, focusing her energy on me like I was her favorite Netflix series.

  At one point, she looked up and grinned. “So, Daniel, any other secrets we should know about? Or should I just keep snooping until I find the embarrassing stuff myself?”

  I gave her a long, tired look. “You already changed my bathroom rug. You’ve seen my shame.”

  She shrugged. “You’re the one who left it fuzzy side down.”

  The truth was—Greg had offered me remote work after the incident. I wasn’t sure whether it was out of concern or just to get me out of his building. Either way, it worked for me. I’d always dreamed of working from home, and now that dream had come true. In the worst possible way.

  According to them, being a Null meant I was rare. Immune to most magic. Hard to read. Harder to manipulate. And valuable to all the wrong people.

  To the girls, I was like a blind spot in a world full of lightshows. I didn’t respond to their glamours or enchantments. I couldn’t be pulled into their illusions. I could see them clearly—and I could remember what they looked like when the spell broke.

  And they were fascinated by that.

  By me of all people.

  It made sense, in a weird way. They were drawn to me not because of what I lacked, instead of finding it repulsive.

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about being the world’s most magical null zone, but I knew one thing for sure: my life wasn’t mine anymore. Not fully. Not privately. Not quietly.

  But strangely... I wasn’t entirely upset about it.

  The walls were cleaner. The air smelled nicer. And for the first time in a long time, my apartment felt... alive.

  Maybe accepting help wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Maybe being protected, even if it came with mockery and magical redecorating, was better than being alone.

  Even if I had to give up my instant noodles to get there. At least the Master Sword stayed on the wall.