"For the past century, human emotion has been our greatest disturbance."

  "Sweating before a crucial interview? That single moment of panic could cost you your dream career.”

  “Nervous on an important date? One slip of the tongue, and she walks away forever."

  "A soldier's fear on the battlefield is only human, of course.”

  “But we don't want human weakness. We want victory."

  "That is why we at the Humanis Corporation have introduced the world's first emotion-suppression pills."

  "A complete pharmaceutical set designed for the human psyche, allowing you to deploy the exact emotion you need, exactly when you need it.”

  “Buy your set today, and take control."

  Daniel pressed the button on the remote, turning the TV off. The screen faded to black.

  "Boring," Daniel muttered.

  "Actually, I think it's magnificent," the Prince mused, leaning against the edge of the table, though his weight didn't crease the leather booth.

  "Absolute control over the human heart."

  The Prince turned to Daniel. "Think about it, Daniel. Soldiers who don't feel fear or pain."

  Daniel scoffed, shaking his head. "Yeah. Robots with blood."

  A drunk man stumbled over from a nearby table. "Hey, I was watching that."

  "Sorry, didn't realize you were still alive," Daniel said without looking at him.

  "What did you say to me, little boy? You want a fist in your face?"

  "Man, just shut up," Daniel sighed.

  The drunk's face flushed red. He raised a heavy fist to strike, but Frank stepped in, catching the man's wrist mid-air.

  "Sorry, he didn't know you were watching," Frank said calmly.

  The drunk glared at Frank for a second.

  Then, his eyes dropped to Frank’s waist, catching the unmistakable shape of a black handgun tucked into his belt.

  The man swallowed hard, backed away, and returned to his table.

  Frank picked up the remote and turned the TV back on.

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  The broadcast had shifted from the commercial to a live interview.

  "So, Doctor S, how did you develop this groundbreaking medicine?" the interviewer asked.

  "Well, it wasn't my work alone. It was the work of my entire team," a calm voice replied.

  "They spent countless nights testing formulas and adjusting the atomic structures to ensure it was one hundred percent safe."

  "Does that mean it's safe for children to use?" the interviewer pressed.

  "I don't see why a child would need to use it, but yes, it would be perfectly safe for them."

  "But Doctor, you know that kids and teens are in a crucial developmental phase.”

  “Wouldn't messing with their emotional chemistry destroy their psychological growth?"

  "That's a great question. Basically, the answerrrrrrrrr—"

  The TV froze, the audio glitching into a harsh, repeating mechanical stutter.

  A second later, the screen flickered, cutting abruptly to a generic game show.

  Frank sat down next to Daniel, frowning at the screen before turning his gaze to him. "'Doctor S' ... I feel like I've heard that name."

  Daniel took a slow sip of his beer. "It's the man whose wife the Prince killed... back in the Glass World."

  "Didn't he say the guy went mad?" Frank asked, raising an eyebrow.

  "Well," Daniel muttered, staring at the cheerful game show on the screen. "It seems he got over it."

  Just as Daniel was finishing his beer, the bar door swung open. It was Arthur and Jean.

  Frank looked back and let out a heavy sigh.

  He stood up from the booth.

  Beside him, Daniel drained the last of his glass, dropped a few bills on the counter to settle his tab, and stood up as well.

  Daniel rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck.

  As his posture changed.

  Together, they walked out of the bar into the cool night air.

  "So, how did it go?" the Prince asked, waiting for them on the street.

  Arthur sighed. "He told me to get away before the others come.”

  “He said if I've made my choice, he won't force me to stay."

  Arthur looked down at the pavement. "Then he started saying things like... California will be better for my education. And that if I ever need help, or just a hug... he'll always be available."

  "Well, the guy is a cool dad, to be honest," the Prince said.

  "So, we're really leaving?" Frank asked, looking at Arthur.

  "I've got my things and Jean's things," Arthur muttered. "On my end, we're ready."

  "Are you sure?" Frank pressed.

  "You're throwing away your last chance to say a proper goodbye to them."

  The Prince rolled his eyes. "Frank, Angel already told him to leave.”

  “Dragging it out would just be a disaster to deal with."

  "And did you think about the disaster for Angel?" Frank snapped back, glaring at the Prince.

  "That he has to explain to the rest of the family why Arthur is gone?"

  "The guy is a lawyer. He can deal with it," the Prince replied, adjusting his cuffs.

  Beside them, Arthur sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his trembling hand.

  "Arthur, are you okay?" Jean asked softly, resting a gentle hand on his back.

  "Yeah," he choked out, his voice trembling. "I'm okay."

  Frank let out a heavy sigh. "I'll go get the others."

  "I'm coming with you. You're already too weak to hold a glass, old man," the Prince said.

  The two of them climbed into the car, leaving Arthur and Jean standing alone on the asphalt.

  As the taillights faded from sight, Arthur finally broke.

  His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the hard pavement.

  Jean dropped down beside him.

  She patted his shoulder gently before pulling him into a tight embrace, letting him sob uncontrollably into her arms.

  They were right outside the busy bar. The neon-lit streets were packed with pedestrians laughing and walking by.

  Yet, no one stopped.

  A few strangers cast them a passing, pitiful glance, but in a city so full of people, not a single soul paused to help the shattered teenager stand back up.

  Three hours later, the rest of the group had gathered their things.

  Arthur—after chain-smoking three cigarettes and viciously snapping at Jean for daring to hold him earlier, finally dragged his bags into the terminal.

  "So, what should we watch on the plane?" the Prince asked him.

  "I don't know," Arthur muttered, staring at the floor. "Something comedic."

  "But comedy is trash," the Prince replied. "Drama is better."

  "My tank is full of that for the next three years," Arthur shot back.

  "Is the Prince seriously telling you to watch a drama right now?" Frank asked, overhearing them.

  "Yeah," Arthur sighed.

  Frank just shook his head, looking up at the departure board to check the time.

  A few seats away, the older siblings were entirely oblivious to the tension.

  "I would say that cream cheese is the best type of cheese," Lucy declared.

  "No way you're actually saying that, sis. I thought you were smarter," Sally scoffed.

  "I would say drinking straight milk is much better," Sam chimed in.

  "Shut up, Sam. Nobody cares," Sally and Lucy snapped in unison.

  While Sam fumed in his seat, Sophie was in full panic mode nearby.

  "Black bag, check. White bag, check. Frank’s watch, check. My watch, check..."

  "You've been doing this for an hour, Sophie. Relax, we didn't miss anything," Frank said, stepping over to her.

  "And what if we did miss something?”

  “Would someone come and get it for us from New York?" she fretted.

  "No, we'll just buy another one. And if it's really that important, Arthur can get it for us the next time he visits his family," Frank said calmly, plucking the checklist from Sophie’s hand.

  "Darling, relax. You've been stressing yourself out."

  Sophie stayed silent for a moment, letting out a long breath. "You're right. I'm just worried. Can you get me something to drink before the pla—"

  "Flight 31 to California is now boarding. All passengers, please proceed to Gate 42."

  Sophie just sighed.