Seducing the Guideverse With My System — Raising an Anomaly [BL]

Ambrose stared with utter confusion at the item he pulled out of the mystery box. It wasn’t a key again—thank the heavens.

But it was something far more unsettling.

A black mask with only spaces for eyes, nose holes and a mouth. He held it between his fingers, spinning it around gently. Feeling how cold it was against his touch.

Nothing was special-looking about it. It was just plain with rigid contours that made it appear to have been moulded perfectly for someone’s face.

... His face.

"First a key that transports me to other dimensions," he muttered, lifting it to his face cautiously. "Now a mask—do you know what it does, Aura?"

[Negative.]

Of course.

This was just like the black key.

"So you can’t fully scan anything that comes out of one of these mystery boxes." He stated rather than asking. "And somehow I’m supposed to trust you with my life."

[You and I both know you never have, sweetheart.]

True.

Ambrose forced his focus back to the mask. His head tilted slowly as his gaze traced through every edge. Curiosity was getting the better of him.

Eventually, he couldn’t hold back and carefully brought it toward his face. Simultaneously, chills ran through his spine, making him hesitate.

’What the fuck was that feeling?’ Cold sweat dripped down his forehead in small beads. ’I can’t just keep this aside. What if it’s... useful? What if it’s the next step I need in growing my chances of leveling up?’

His fingers tightened around the mask.

He’ll never know until he tries it out.

So, he continued pulling it closer to his face, his eyes fluttering shut once it began touching his cheeks. Before he could wear it all the way in, however, spatial awareness snapped.

His eyes widened as he quickly shoved the mask under one of the pillows on the sofa. He turned his neck to the bedroom doors in time to witness Orion walking out.

The little boy rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, moving groggily in those cute pajamas. "Daddy?" He blinked once with a frown. "Who are you talking to?"

Ambrose swallowed despite the calm smile curving his lips. "No one, buddy. I was just talking to myself."

"... Isn’t that kinda weird?"

The Guide’s face burned.

Fucking hell. No one mentions how brutal kids are.

"Well, little rascal." Ambrose’s smile turned to a grin. "Being weird is also fun. Talking to myself helps me... collect my thoughts. You get?"

[Watching you double down on a lie never gets old.]

’I hope you know how much I fucking hate you.’

[Why, of course. You never cease to remind me.]

"Oh." Orion nodded. "It does?"

When Ambrose gave a nod, Orion beamed— hopping to him.

"So does this mean whenever I have a nightmare I can just talk to myself in my room instead of disturbing you or Papa about it?"

Wait—what?

"Orion, no..." Ambrose took his hand, guiding him to sit beside him. "That’s not what I’m saying at all. Listen..." he paused, rubbing the bridge of his nose as his next words flooded in. "Talking to yourself is a personal thing. It just means you’ve got a good imagination and sometimes get so lost in your thoughts that you spit them out."

Seeing the attentiveness in the boy’s big golden eyes, he went on. "But having something as scary as a nightmare? You never need to keep it to yourself. Ever. Not while me and your papa are around."

"What if I don’t want to bother you?" He asked so innocently that Ambrose’s throat sealed. "I don’t want to make you worried."

Ambrose’s fingers trembled.

Now he couldn’t help but actually worry. Has he been letting his emotions pour out too often around the boy? Was that beginning to grow this idea that he couldn’t share things with him?

Or—could this be a trauma response he got from his original timeline?

Whatever it was, he hoped to end it. Right now.

"Worrying isn’t always a bad thing." He brushed his fingers over Orion’s hair. "It just means you care about the other person. And I really do, buddy. I hope you know that?"

It took a moment but Orion nodded. And for an odd reason, that took off most of the weight in his chest.

"Did you have a nightmare?" He found the need to ask.

Once again the boy nodded, lowering his head. "I didn’t want to scare you." He mumbled. "It... it was so scary. I saw you running. Everything was so dark. I–I could hear myself and Papa screaming."

Ambrose froze.

That sounded scary indeed.

But he brushed it off, ruffling Orion’s hair. "And would you look at this?" He grinned from ear to ear. "Isn’t your daddy safe and sound now?"

That brought a gentle smile to the kid’s face. Ambrose pulled him into his arms, patting his back rhythmically.

"Do you want me to sleep in your room tonight?"

Orion didn’t answer immediately. Almost as if he was actually weighing his options.

Then, "What about papa? You two are always cuddling whenever he’s here."

Warmth pulsed through the back of both the Guide’s ears. "Uhm... yes. But your papa isn’t here tonight. Don’t worry, kiddo."

His head swerved to the blank television screen just then. Suddenly he had an idea. "Would you like to watch something before going to bed?"

Orion’s eyes regained their usual giddy light. "Yes!" He nodded frantically. "Let’s watch one of those space documentaries. The one with... Kneel in the grass Tyson."

Ambrose couldn’t hold back his laugh.

"Close enough, little urchin." He poked his nose teasingly before turning on the television.

After tuning into the documentary channel, he dropped the remote, smiling when the boy lay his head on his chest. Fortunately, the exact space documentary Orion was talking about rolled in five minutes later.

As Neil’s scholarly baritone filled the living room—the screen flashing with footage of a black hole— Ambrose’s head angled to the throw pillow beside him.

The black mask peeked just slightly from underneath it. For the briefest second, he thought he sensed it calling to him.

’Withdraw to system storage space,’ he ordered internally. ’I’ll find out what it can do some other time...’

As the mask slowly disappeared, Ambrose failed to notice its empty gaze remained fixed on him.

Watching.

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