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.]270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCwSYaNEFcf
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGjnfGp119P
[Source — human.]270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTjkJoVmtw9
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMS2Lz77iQm
[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.]270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzApCuW8QY0
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaApKQ8jzsM
[Warning: rising indicators of jealousy.]270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8FiaaPXEi8
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNyoYCqKm5m
[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.]270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡv1f95TOXyO
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzsUztBXwUb
[Recommendation: reduce involvement.]
Maxim closed his eyes.270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLxe2Ieu8ER
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrMh2p0oBTp
“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:270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnfZZVjpEBh
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡe0H7Zc92zZ
“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.270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYsjmfR81Mm
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡejV356D3Of
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 Intern270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡToYMgw9xn8
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡedxn0f9hr0
Anxiety Level: 82%270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0QdqWKYwCe
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPQvyqFCSDS
Depression Level: 69%270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFhqKzETVdx
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKyx4Lcw1F3
Physical Health: low270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL5iyNHYUnr
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8hCmq8dgwv
Mental Stability: unstable270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ42Y5J9IOWr
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRriv3HTzTh
Skills:270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDFEzJcRom4
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgwUcdok5Qu
— Empathy (elevated)270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQn4qLBBhhi
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwR5GttLoDi
— Self-Criticism (critical)270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeb8Kli9Nbd
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFzY4W9w4Nu
— Pain Resistance (high)
Side Quests:270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdsGFVuruhr
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpRlaMPZKkN
• Help Masha270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjVngo2iv3S
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyXiuAoNgsJ
• Help the cat down from the tree270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡogHfZs4635
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡe8SGK0HErw
• 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.]270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡH57hPR6njs
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzJgI4V94Io
[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.]270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7jk7sbw4rV
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZspLth6acF
[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.]270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeD5gkLxxDV
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGcOiOJ2pMh
[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.”]270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAesY2pOT8C
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaAdqbdFyCy
[Subject data available.]270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1301QbofJQ
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDOBOzoDZbW
[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)270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1ZGWvWE68V
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwzHr4lFvbU
Role: Human in emotional crisis.270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlxhnrq96M2
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXKikJNchpo
Psychological parameters:270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgtr0gwM11U
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2pRu0wHp5x
— Anger: 74%270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6Jw9uLW8tS
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnRfqBtukyh
— Disappointment: 81%270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDlakXGRDK8
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmSQePlq3ti
— Hope: 19%270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡItlkYss2FN
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡU4nCF7525s
— Emotional losses: unacknowledged pain, internal burnout270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXQYJC0pIzn
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSwFeoHmyq4
Core belief: Good deeds are never repaid with good.270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOhA3Q6vfCE
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgoiaZSjrx4
Current state: unstable.
[Recommendation: access subject history.]270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ76WxliXjo9
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡi438ii5K0m
[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.]270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ91Lcloo8oo
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmMjynmpmIO
[Masha’s parameters synced with operator.]270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUW80CFXPEv
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡf5giiLmn3w
[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…]270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡG7qV3EIaBY
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkwb0A5g006
[Warning: emotional involvement may destabilize operator.]
Maxim exhaled.
“Thanks for the timely warning.”
And the light swallowed the rest.
270Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8QWTOddu3M
and then Add to home screen.