Elliot began clawing at a metal door off to the side of the cabin, drawing Winter's attention away from the window.
"Hold up—when did that door get there?" Winter asked, brow furrowed in confusion.
"Oh, that!" Kyo perked up. "I installed it earlier today while you were out hunting. I'm planning to build a small lab back there."
Winter pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're just... modifying the cabin now?"
"Well, yeah!" Kyo replied with unbridled enthusiasm. "Should be done in about a week. The wiring's already set up, just need to get the workbenches and equipment arranged."
"Unbelievable," Winter muttered, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice. "You know what? Fine. Do whatever you want."
"Really?" Kyo's eyes lit up. "Thanks! I've got so many ideas for experiments and—"
"Maybe that meteorite gave you a bigger brain along with the lightning powers," Winter quipped, cutting off Kyo's excited rambling.
"Hey!" Kyo protested, but he was grinning. "Actually... that would explain a lot."
"Actually," Kyo began, his voice losing its usual pep. "This isn't the first time I've tried something like this."
Winter raised an eyebrow, setting aside his initial annoyance. "Oh?"
"Yeah, my dad was an engineer too," Kyo said, a small smile playing on his lips. "He was always tinkering with gadgets, building robots, you name it. He even built a whole train set in our backyard—it was incredible!"
As Kyo continued to talk about his father's accomplishments, his smile gradually faded, replaced by a melancholic expression. Winter watched as Kyo's usual bright demeanor dimmed, his eyes clouding with sadness.
"He always encouraged me to follow my dreams," Kyo continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "He said I had a natural talent for engineering, that I could build anything I set my mind to."
Winter recognized the familiar signs of grief etched across Kyo's face. The unspoken words hung heavy in the air—his father was no longer alive.
"Kyo," Winter said softly, his voice filled with genuine sympathy. "I'm sorry for your loss."
Kyo looked up, startled by Winter's unexpected display of emotion. "Thanks," he mumbled, wiping away a stray tear. "It was a long time ago, but... I still miss him."
He reached up and adjusted the orange jacket he always wore, a faint smile returning to his face. "This jacket... and these goggles," he said, gesturing to the aviator glasses perched on his head. "They were his. I wear them to feel closer to him, to remember everything he taught me."
The room fell silent for a long moment before Winter spoke, his voice unusually soft.