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.]264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZiwtoBeA2M
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKV5ifTjXyn
[Source — human.]264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQre86HqSI2
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5ZYT9QCHWM
[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.]264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxKiWAWkdfn
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ21uHOWkImU
[Warning: rising indicators of jealousy.]264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqLLCA4Gkrf
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsu8doVkZ95
[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.]264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMnYIJrH2fV
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡp1y6HWVXSP
[Recommendation: reduce involvement.]
Maxim closed his eyes.264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDQS0NpDCIf
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYCA3fmdU9C
“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:264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡngUX1x4FPF
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡb0OZiiHj2N
“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.264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOi7uTYHy9J
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTOilze20v3
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 Intern264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkUhGZgnbQ9
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJPbBvJ3NZy
Anxiety Level: 82%264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡumyFwQY3IO
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuvPq3Eut3k
Depression Level: 69%264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlbxg7Ek5qP
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOs164vNtGR
Physical Health: low264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVuJXzhsvb5
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPpf5owCJbY
Mental Stability: unstable264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfBDjOqLRcb
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRDJ3cjlc5S
Skills:264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQ8J6nRdCVz
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuDThMH65OQ
— Empathy (elevated)264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhaB00v06og
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUJdhMVczuN
— Self-Criticism (critical)264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7ggHv3Lwhr
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcIwuUat4hR
— Pain Resistance (high)
Side Quests:264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXF8rTpup9q
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSZDFC1brzy
• Help Masha264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcw7T9iKPUY
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlZvoUvwU09
• Help the cat down from the tree264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1Am5McPHiJ
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡl5fqiAEZNb
• 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.]264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkXEGJJDC6C
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQ2SK8ZQ4VV
[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.]264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgovh7U32Yi
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCYixwWGF6e
[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.]264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4tw9GN8ZTA
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡD89PN94F5u
[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.”]264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAWgvYKTqwU
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡv1gQVCZIiC
[Subject data available.]264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlnXhPWqP5j
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeplg6y0L2B
[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)264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYGQjZEFPOH
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGi57iHM8nU
Role: Human in emotional crisis.264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaPPoxi3TNN
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡX2aJgphcZn
Psychological parameters:264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdLpnDwnqin
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwX10e4gT8l
— Anger: 74%264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtk8oalpYeO
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHvIz1xq9lU
— Disappointment: 81%264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡu6GyDq0UX1
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡg2QwSN86kl
— Hope: 19%264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJkkdRpJHLd
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9WU0ZnmAUh
— Emotional losses: unacknowledged pain, internal burnout264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEESt3esk5j
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0prlWw0yvd
Core belief: Good deeds are never repaid with good.264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4AXOf4sjzx
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMQw4mkvha5
Current state: unstable.
[Recommendation: access subject history.]264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNGenNQDtcQ
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZ4QBQ6ydDg
[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.]264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡan1m7AF9GD
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0eQ9AOrQAM
[Masha’s parameters synced with operator.]264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡT0lqSNVi0W
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHFSOrUPIXy
[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…]264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡI5tTyhqAc9
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfNCVNaLxjE
[Warning: emotional involvement may destabilize operator.]
Maxim exhaled.
“Thanks for the timely warning.”
And the light swallowed the rest.
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUj0bVONldL
and then Add to home screen.