The Extra's Rise

My phone buzzed with a message just as I was finishing breakfast with Stella and Reika. The sender made me smile before I'd even read the content.

Aria: Big brother! Coffee today? Have news. Don't you dare say you're too important now 🙄

Arthur: When have I ever been too important for my little sister?

Aria: Want a list? It's long

Arthur: Funny. Where?

Aria: Le Poilte. Same place as before. For old times' sake

I stared at the message for a moment, memories flooding back. Le Poilte—the ridiculously expensive coffee shop where we'd gone eight years ago when she was fourteen and I was still a student at Mythos Academy. The place where someone had mysteriously bought us eighteen-thousand-dollar coffee, and I'd spent the entire meal calculating how much money we were consuming with each sip.

Arthur: That's expensive even for a celebration

Aria: Your treat this time 😈 You can afford it now, Mr. Second Hero

Arthur: Fine. But you're explaining what this news is that requires premium-priced caffeine

Aria: Deal. One hour?

I showed the exchange to Reika, who smiled with the kind of understanding that came from knowing how much my family meant to me.

"Go," she said before I could even ask. "Stella and I have administrative work to finish anyway. Family time is important."

"You're sure?" I asked, though I was already reaching for my jacket.

"Completely sure," she confirmed, her violet eyes warm with genuine affection. "Besides, I'm curious about this news that requires such an expensive venue."

An hour later, I stood outside Le Poilte, marveling at how the three-story building looked exactly the same as it had eight years ago. The same sleek modern architecture, the same subtle indicators of wealth and exclusivity, the same sense that walking through those doors would cost more than most people earned in a month.

Aria was already waiting at the entrance, her auburn hair catching the afternoon sun while her green eyes sparkled with barely contained excitement. At twenty-two, she'd grown into the confidence I'd seen hints of during our teenage years, though she still carried herself with the kind of playful energy that made it impossible to take her too seriously.

"Arthur!" she called out as I approached. "Ready to pay ridiculous amounts of money for liquid in a cup?"

"Ready to find out what news is important enough to justify it," I replied with dry affection.

The interior was exactly as I remembered—polished floors, ambient lighting, and patrons whose net worth probably required teams of accountants to calculate. We were shown to a private booth, the same kind of high-end seating that had made me feel out of place as a student but now seemed appropriate for someone with my current status.

"So," I said as we settled in, "what's this mysterious news that requires premium caffeine?"

Aria's grin widened to the point where she could no longer maintain any pretense of suspense. "I'm getting engaged!"

The announcement hit exactly as she'd intended. I stared at her for several seconds, processing the news and everything it implied, before breaking into a smile that matched her obvious happiness.

"Marcus finally worked up the courage?" I asked, referring to her boyfriend of two years.

"He did!" she said with obvious delight. "Three days ago, during dinner at that restaurant we went to for my birthday. He was so nervous he could barely speak coherently, but he managed to get the important words out."

"I'm happy for you," I said with complete sincerity. "Marcus is a good man, and he clearly adores you."

"He does," she agreed with satisfied confidence. "And I adore him right back, so it works out perfectly."

I gestured to the server, noting how Aria's eyes lit up with anticipation. "What's the most expensive coffee you have?"

"The Celestial Gold Reserve," the server replied without hesitation. "Twenty-three thousand, seven hundred dollars per cup. It's enhanced with rare magical ingredients and provides significant cultivation benefits."

"Two of those," I said without flinching, though I caught Aria's expression of amazed delight.

"Arthur," she said with something approaching awe, "you don't have to—"

"Yes, I do," I interrupted with a smile. "Eight years ago, someone mysteriously bought us expensive coffee here. Today, your big brother can afford to do it properly."

When the coffee arrived, it was even more impressive than the gold swirl we'd been gifted years ago. Each cup seemed to contain liquid starlight, with swirling patterns that shifted and moved like captured nebulae. The aroma alone made my enhanced senses tingle with appreciation.

"This is incredible," Aria breathed, taking her first sip. "It's like drinking concentrated happiness."

"At twenty-three thousand dollars, it should provide enlightenment and grant three wishes," I replied, though I had to admit the coffee was genuinely extraordinary.

"Thank you," she said with sudden seriousness. "Not just for the coffee, but for... this. For making time for me despite everything else you have going on."

The sincerity in her voice touched something deep in my chest. "Aria, you're my sister. There's nothing more important than that."

"Sometimes I wonder though," she said, her tone shifting to something more contemplative. "What it's like being you. Having that much power, that much responsibility. Does it ever feel... lonely?"

The question caught me off guard with its perceptiveness. Aria had always been more observant than she let on, apparently noticing things about my situation that I'd thought I was hiding successfully.

"Sometimes," I admitted, because lying to her felt wrong even when the truth was complicated. "Power creates distance. People treat you differently when they know you could reshape reality if you wanted to."

"But not family," she said with the kind of certainty that made something in my chest tighten. "We still think of you as just Arthur. Our Arthur."

The irony was almost painful. Aria believed our family was normal, that the only extraordinary thing about our household was my own development. She had no idea that our mother was a cosmic entity whose true nature operated on scales that transcended normal understanding.

"That's what makes family important," I said carefully. "Having people who see you as a person rather than a position."

"Exactly," she agreed with obvious satisfaction. "Which is why I wanted to tell you about the engagement personally. Because you're my brother first, and everything else second."

The weight of unspoken truth settled between us like a physical presence. Aria's trust, her genuine affection, her belief in our family's normalcy—all of it built on foundations that weren't quite what she believed them to be.

"When are you planning to tell Mom and Dad?" I asked, partly to change the subject but mostly because I was genuinely curious.

"Tonight, at dinner," she said with growing excitement. "Marcus is coming over, and we're going to make the announcement together. He's terrified of Dad, which is adorable."

I smiled at that, remembering my own nervousness during early interactions with Douglas Nightingale. The reality of our father's background was complicated enough that I could understand Marcus's intimidation.

"Dad likes him," I assured her. "And Mom thinks he's perfect for you."

"I know," she said with obvious happiness. "But there's something special about making it official."

As our conversation continued over impossibly expensive coffee, I found myself appreciating how these moments of normalcy had remained constant despite everything that had changed. Aria still teased me about being overprotective, still delighted in getting me to spend ridiculous amounts of money on her, still treated me like the big brother she'd always known rather than the legendary figure I'd somehow become.

"You know," she said suddenly, studying my face with growing concern, "you look troubled. Is something wrong?"

"Just thinking," I replied, which was technically accurate while avoiding the complex realities I couldn't easily explain.

"About what?" she pressed with sisterly persistence.

I looked at her for a long moment, weighing how much truth I could share without destroying the sense of normalcy that clearly meant so much to her. The knowledge of our mother's true nature was a burden I wasn't sure Aria was ready to carry.

"About how much you mean to me," I said finally, which was completely true even if it wasn't the whole truth. "About how important it is that you're happy."

"I am happy," she said with obvious sincerity. "Happier than I've ever been. I have a man who loves me, a family that supports me, and a future that looks bright. What more could anyone want?"

The simple contentment in her voice made my decision for me. Whatever cosmic complexities defined our family situation, Aria had found genuine happiness within the framework she understood. Disrupting that happiness to satisfy my own discomfort with deception seemed cruel and unnecessary.

"Nothing," I said with a smile that carried all the protective love I felt for her. "Nothing at all."

"Will you be my best man?" she asked suddenly, her tone shifting to something more serious.

"Of course," I replied without hesitation. "I'd be honored."

"Good," she said with obvious relief. "Because having the Second Hero as your best man should guarantee that nothing goes wrong with the wedding ceremony."

"Or ensure that if something does go wrong, it gets fixed quickly," I added with dry humor.

"Even better," she laughed, the sound carrying all the joy and confidence that made protecting her happiness feel like the most important responsibility I'd ever accepted.

As we prepared to leave, finishing the last of our celestial coffee, I reflected on how some things remained beautifully constant. The setting was the same, the dynamic between us unchanged, but now I could afford to properly spoil my sister without worrying about the cost.

"Same time next year?" Aria asked as we stood to leave.

"Same time next year," I confirmed. "Though hopefully the next occasion will be less expensive to celebrate."

"Don't count on it," she replied with a grin that promised future adventures in premium-priced sibling bonding.

Some traditions, I reflected as we walked out into Avalon City's afternoon bustle, were worth maintaining regardless of how much they cost.