Titan Rumble Ch 26: The Thing To Be Fixed!

The morning sun filtered through the massive window panes, casting long golden beams across the floor of my oversized bedroom. I blinked a few times as I slowly sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes and letting out a groggy yawn.

"Alright Cain, you can do this," I muttered to myself, trying to hype myself up as I grabbed a clean shirt off a folded stack beside the dresser-sized headboard. My body still ached a bit from yesterday—remnants of the punishment New Existence had inflicted—but it was a manageable soreness now. I rolled my shoulders, cracked my neck, and took a deep breath. First training session as the new master of a dojo full of Alphas... no pressure, right?

Of course, I didn't just have class on my mind. My brain was still buzzing with thoughts of Yuna's sister—Aurora. That whole exchange last night over dinner? Yeah. That wasn't exactly subtle. I hadn't even known she existed until her door was in my face and her underwear-clad self was greeting me like I was a puppy someone brought home from the street.

But if what Mr. Takamura said was true, and she really was as strong—or stronger—than Yuna, then I'd be stupid not to at least try to get her involved. Not just for the dojo, but for the family too. You could practically feel the tension crackling between them. Maybe I was sticking my nose where it didn't belong, but if I could help smooth things over while strengthening our chances for future competitions... then why not?

I threw on my shirt and adjusted the hem, then walked over to the edge of the dresser where my house was nestled. Stepping out onto the dresser's wide wooden surface, I took a moment to stretch, then peered over the edge at the floor below—stories down for someone like me.

"Alright," I said, cracking a grin. "Let's go."

I took a step forward and dove. The air rushed past me as the ground rocketed upward. Just before impact, my body phased out with a quiet ripple—then reappeared softly on the floor, landing like I'd just stepped out of an elevator. I straightened up, cracked my knuckles, and turned toward the door.

Now began the real challenge.

Walking across my room.

See, when your bedroom is the size of a small gymnasium and you're about as tall as a soda can, getting from point A to point B isn't just a stroll. It's a trek. Thirty minutes of dodging fibers in the carpet, navigating around one of Yuna's stray socks (which may as well have been a collapsed tent), and stepping over the occasional hair strand thicker than my wrist.

I finally reached the base of the door—an imposing slab of wood that loomed like the gate to a temple. I ducked under the tiny gap at the bottom, brushing my fingers against the cool floor tiles of the hallway beyond. This area was quieter than usual; the house was still mostly asleep. No thunderous footsteps, no echoing voices—just the hum of morning light and the low creak of the house settling.

It took another ten minutes to get down the corridor, but eventually, I stood in front of the door. Aurora's door. Just being near it felt weird.

I craned my neck up to take in the scale of the door. I could still remember how her voice sounded from the night before—mischievous, confident, like she was trying to decide if I was a toy or a guest.

"Okay," I said to myself, placing my hands on my hips and exhaling. "Time to start the plan of getting Aurora back into the studio."

I slipped under Aurora's door with the grace of a stealthy ninja—or at least that's how I imagined it. In reality, I had to awkwardly crouch and shuffle beneath the huge slab of wood, hoping she didn't accidentally slam it while I was still halfway through.

Once I emerged on the other side, I was immediately hit with something... foul.

"Oh—ugh! What is that?" I gagged, covering my nose with both hands. It smelled like gym socks soaked in expired milk. My eyes started to water a bit as I cautiously took a few steps forward, trying to breathe through my mouth instead.

The scene before me was nothing short of apocalyptic. Mountains—literal mountains—of clothes towered in random piles across the floor like some kind of neglected laundry Everest. Some socks. Some shirts. One suspiciously lacy bra the size of a house.

Crumbs the size of boulders were scattered between the clothes like a trail of debris after a food-based war. I spotted a half-eaten sandwich off to the side, next to a chip bag big enough to be a tent for my entire house. And was that... a banana peel? Or a crime scene?

I squinted. "Was this really a girl's room?" I muttered to myself, wading through the debris field. "I thought there were rules about this kind of thing. Isn't there, like, a federal mandate that girls' rooms are supposed to smell like vanilla candles and vague anxiety?"

I stepped carefully over a dried glob of... something... and looked up.

Far above, just past the edge of the bed, a bare leg dangled lazily in the air. One toe twitched. That was the only sign of life.

Aurora was still sleeping.

And based on the low, even rhythm of her breathing, she wasn't waking up anytime soon. Her hair spilled across her pillow like a dark wave, and even from down here, I could hear a soft snore every now and then—light but distinct.

"Well," I sighed, putting my hands on my hips as I surveyed the disaster zone around me, "this is going to be a hard job."

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I imagined Yuna walking in here and taking one look before throwing a shoe at her sister's head.

"Just great," I mumbled, sidestepping a crusty french fry.

Time to figure out how to wake a sleeping giant without getting squished.