The smell of fried oil was almost homely—if not for the fact that it reminded Maxim of a childhood where “home” had long ceased to exist. At the stove, Andrei looked less like a man cooking eggs and more like someone on a military operation. His T-shirt was skewed, his hair a mess, one sleeve unevenly rolled up.
Maxim sat at the table, resting his head on his hand.
“You never gave me a real answer. Did you even sleep at all?” Andrei asked, flipping an egg.
Maxim stayed silent. His friend clicked his tongue in irritation.
“Maxim, you can’t go on like this. That’s a straight road to a heart attack.”
He set a plate in front of him—eggs, bread, a mug of coffee. Simple, but… it all felt very normal.
Maxim hesitated before picking up his fork.
“What? I didn’t poison it,” Andrei said, sitting across from him.
“I’m just… not used to it,” Maxim replied. “Having someone cook for me.”
“Get used to it.” Andrei sipped his coffee. “Everyone needs care sometimes. And I’m planning to keep providing it for a while.”
Silence. Only the faint hiss of oil still in the pan, and the clink of forks against plates.
Maxim ate slowly, but for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel humiliated by it.
[Emotional state: stable.]209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUlgaYsIGUk
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcJMhwcGXYS
[Source — human.]209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRqaojeWnJN
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDs4BqQPV7g
[Recommendation: reinforce the pattern ‘shared morning.’]
He blinked automatically. The system shimmered pink at the edge of his vision, half-transparent, almost lazy.
“Yeah, another minute and you’ll start advising me on who I should have breakfast with,” he muttered.
“What?” Andrei frowned.
“Nothing.”
He smiled—awkward, but genuine.
Andrei studied him a bit closer, as if he wanted to ask something, but his phone buzzed loudly on the table. The name on the screen made him flinch.
“Masha,” he said shortly, almost apologetically. “Give me a second.”
Maxim nodded.
Andrei moved to the window, pressing the phone to his ear. His voice softened, gentler.
Maxim looked away. He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but it was impossible not to hear.
Fragments of phrases, half-tones. “Yeah, I’m fine… no, I’m not angry… I’ll tell you later…”
There was something unusual in Andrei’s tone. Tired, but carrying a warmth that felt unbearable to listen to.
Maxim stood, started clearing the dishes.
One step—and the system stirred to life.
[Observation: subject “Maxim” shows drop in inner tone.]209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlqT7CUYoc4
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAJRWB58mlG
[Warning: rising indicators of jealousy.]209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYZ3Znux0WV
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqRFE8iePxY
[Analysis: emotional breakdown possible in 12 minutes.]
He froze.
“Seriously?” he whispered. “Jealousy? Where the hell would that even come from?”
[Answer: any strong feeling counts as a parameter.]209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6LD12GJZ0P
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ964XZVibif
[Recommendation: reduce involvement.]
Maxim closed his eyes.209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3db6xzfBqG
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfYaEwtOdsp
“Reduce involvement…”
If only he knew how. And what exactly there was to reduce.
Meanwhile, Andrei ended the call. He turned back, looking faintly guilty.
“Sorry. I have to go out. She asked me to meet her—just for a few minutes. Says it’s nothing serious.”
“Of course,” Maxim said calmly, though everything inside him already itched. “Go.”
“You sure?”
“What, do you want me to sign a note of permission?”
Andrei gave a crooked smile, awkward.
“Alright. I’ll be quick.”
He grabbed his jacket, checked his phone, and at the door added:209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡt0dWBxUkJ1
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhQUYpMlqK0
“If anything, just pull the door shut, don’t lock it.”
Maxim nodded.
The door clicked shut.
Silence fell over the room again.
He stood in the middle of the kitchen, staring at the empty table. Then he walked to his laptop and switched it on.
The screen flickered—the familiar desktop loaded with a soft chime.
“Physics… exams… law of conservation of momentum,” he muttered, opening folders.
And then the screen darkened. Froze.
From its depths, a window surfaced:
[SYSTEM: UPDATE AVAILABLE.209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWKFSDZhMk5
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡib5MxcEDQ9
Apply now? [YES] [LATER]]
He narrowed his eyes.
“I didn’t install anything.”
[The update concerns you.]
“Yeah, I figured. Thanks.”
The window didn’t vanish.
With a sigh, Maxim clicked “YES,” just to get rid of it.
The monitor froze, then lit up again.
But instead of the desktop, a pink panel appeared, like a game menu.
At the top, a blinking title: Character: Maxim.
He held his breath.
A list of stats slid up on the screen:
[Status: Angel Intern209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0uGUEABkEm
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ583f0wwPSO
Anxiety Level: 82%209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbJBxSIfMNz
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNzV8RRDSme
Depression Level: 69%209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk80oHHaJRc
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpAj6H3hYfE
Physical Health: low209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKlpogjovYX
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoRKBTUKz3s
Mental Stability: unstable209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbgy6SY7veT
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡddTjbtUUha
Skills:209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡS1zfaZOIsM
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7CW1wEOk6I
— Empathy (elevated)209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9RxFEQmBp0
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzzTSIlmsRu
— Self-Criticism (critical)209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYe4v1DY8oU
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxCGQ18gUag
— Pain Resistance (high)
Side Quests:209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCkEAvq3Gtw
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡURgVgvf4es
• Help Masha209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuisEJzkU0F
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLsnzkWfBNb
• Help the cat down from the tree209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡn8t2yOmAvn
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVc7VEbWFIk
• Make the “skuf” happy]
Maxim stared.
“What the… skuf?”
[Definition: “skuf” — a man older than you, prone to gloomy reflections.]
He rolled his eyes.
“Perfect. So now my mission is to ‘cheer up a depressed middle-aged man.’ Like I’m not already in that club.”
The system stayed silent, but faint laughter drifted from the speakers.
His fists clenched.
“Laugh it up. We’ll see who cheers up who.”
The interface blinked. The last line—“Help Masha”—began to flicker until the others faded out.
[Selected quest: Help Masha.]
“Wait—what? I didn’t choose that!”
[Choice confirmed by system.]
“Of course. No consent, as usual.”
The screen returned to normal. Just his open physics file and the cursor blinking, waiting. As if nothing had happened.
Except at the corner of his vision, a faint pink trace lingered, like a fingerprint.
Maxim leaned back, running a hand over his face.
“‘Help Masha’… Perfect. Maybe explain how?”
[Method: spontaneous intervention. The system will select the optimal moment.]
“Of course it will,” he muttered. “Right when I finally think I can just live in peace.”
No answer.
He turned on music, opened his notes, tried to return to formulas.
But one thought kept hammering in his head—stupid, irrational, stubborn:
Why Masha?
He pushed it away. Closed his eyes. His fingers trembled—he wasn’t even sure whether from exhaustion or anticipation.
Then a soft, almost tender notification bloomed across the screen:
[Mission active.]209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ62VDrPXmS5
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUUMwt9fV69
[Target: Masha. Time begun.]
Maxim didn’t notice the faint current run through his fingertips, as if someone traced his skin from the inside.
[Update installation complete.]209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzASBXJbH4p
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbkKgsQ7H6d
[Transformation process initiated.]
“What transformation—?!” he gasped, but didn’t have time to move.
A pink glow exploded in his vision. At first gentle, like sunrise through blinds, then stronger, heavier, until the world vanished, leaving only a ringing in his ears and the sensation of being pulled upward, turned inside out.
“No, no, no, don’t—!” he shouted, but the words drowned in light.
Click.
The world returned.
Maxim stood in the middle of a stranger’s room—spacious, with a full-length mirror, a stack of scripts on the desk, and a mug labeled Drama Queen.
He froze.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
From the mirror, something stared back: a boy of about eighteen, disheveled hair, eyes wide with horror, dressed in that ridiculous outfit the system had forced on him before—short pink skirt, stockings, ruffled crop top, and white wings twitching at every breath.
“I… no… this… is not serious,” he groaned, clutching at the skirt. “Again?! Why?!”
[Angel Intern form activated.]209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYoz8rzqjGb
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ03zHGFkhEs
[Disguise for ordinary humans: invisibility enabled.]
“Well, at least that,” he muttered, then scowled. “But I can still feel these stupid wings!”
He shook his shoulders; the wings only ruffled, sulky.
He took a step—and realized he had no idea where he was.
A bright living room. At first he thought it was just a bedroom—floral curtains, shelves of books, a few photos. In one of them, Andrei stood beside a laughing girl with wavy hair.
Masha.
And from the next room came a sharp voice, trembling with anger:
“Andrei, are you even listening to me?!”
Maxim flinched.
He stepped closer, into the doorway.
Masha stood with hands on her hips, blue eyes blazing. A T-shirt reading Theatre is truth, hair tied in a messy ponytail.
Andrei stood opposite, by the wall.
“Masha, please, I just wanted—”
“You always ‘just wanted’!” she cut him off. “To help everyone, to pity everyone, to save everyone! Do you even realize you end up with nothing in your hands?!”
Maxim froze, hardly believing the system had dragged him here.
Her voice trembled, not from tears but from wounded pride:
“Because of your kindness, you lost your job! Because you defended some random guy! And now—him again, right? Another victim you’ve picked up?”
Andrei lowered his gaze.
“He’s not a victim, Masha. He’s… just a person who’s hurting.”
“Everyone’s hurting!” she snapped. “But you don’t have to save the whole world!”
Maxim wanted to cover his ears. He felt like an intruder in someone else’s private life.
And then—another window.
[Mission active: “Help Masha.”]209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHvh9UDTrvd
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOikEFqbPPr
[Subject data available.]209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7Y6HUobZRG
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgiBPXNt29N
[View profile?]
He sighed.
“Well, since you dragged me here in a skirt, might as well,” he muttered, and confirmed.
A profile opened before his eyes:
Subject: Masha (19)209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCK8fm7vg5B
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUBoDpQymk9
Role: Human in emotional crisis.209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBgl6fFf9sV
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgC24NIrkJB
Psychological parameters:209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNwQ91MdB9L
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPFS9356Cqb
— Anger: 74%209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKAjP5M2T8u
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOX7BwqwsNP
— Disappointment: 81%209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtMcg4pB2IO
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3mvotNyfTn
— Hope: 19%209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEpsSdwqqah
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnuTKQGm1nE
— Emotional losses: unacknowledged pain, internal burnout209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3rsSqcV9bo
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡglrPUjI3FS
Core belief: Good deeds are never repaid with good.209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡe3Ad5yRBTU
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsIZhM3kriA
Current state: unstable.
[Recommendation: access subject history.]209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡI1htxODFn3
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuhj2USKEoO
[Open? [YES] [NO]]
Maxim rubbed his face.
“Great. Now I’m her personal psychoanalyst. In a skirt. With wings.”
He looked back at Masha—she’d turned away, her voice softer:
“I’m just tired, Andrei. Do you get that? You’re good. But that’s the problem with good people—everyone climbs onto their shoulders.”
Andrei stayed silent.
Maxim felt something sharp twist in his chest, as if her pain had slipped straight into him.
He inhaled—and the system chimed:
[Empathic resonance activated.]209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrQ9wyAXzJd
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8CSqYrNZlv
[Masha’s parameters synced with operator.]209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoX9TzQAiJF
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ84ApaYQ5ea
[Option: access subject history.]
He clenched his fists.
“Fine, fine,” he whispered. “Show me her story. Just… no special effects, okay?”
The system gave no answer.
The screen inside his head filled with light.
The sounds of the room vanished.
He saw Masha—not here, not now. A small girl, maybe ten years old, standing on a stage before an empty hall.
The world stitched itself together from fragments, like old film. Maxim couldn’t tell where her past ended and his own thoughts began.
But he couldn’t look away.
Pink light engulfed everything.
And through it came the voice of the system:
[Subject history loading…]209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlRFWyw5SHr
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡg2mUHxJOCv
[Warning: emotional involvement may destabilize operator.]
Maxim exhaled.
“Thanks for the timely warning.”
And the light swallowed the rest.
209Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6f4WXtIITv
and then Add to home screen.