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Chapter Text

Wuju’s grin widened as the scent of cinnamon and freshly baked bread enveloped him. Wuju’s eyes, shimmering like melted caramel, did a victory lap around his bakery, a haven of flour-dusted dreams and sugar-laced fantasies. The air, thick with the aroma of freshly baked bread and cinnamon, transported him back to his childhood kitchen. He could almost hear his grandmother's gentle voice guiding him through the art of baking, with her hands patiently shaping dough and her eyes brimming with love and pride. Her words, seasoned with wisdom and love, resonated with him. Banking is an art of love, Wuju. Pour your heart into each creation, and it will bring joy to all who taste it.

He thought of his parents, their faces etched in his memory with the same clarity as the hand-painted murals that adorned the bakery walls. He could also hear the echoes of his parents laughter, their faces etched in his heart, a testament to their unwavering support and encouragement.

As he worked, memories flickered like candle flames in the recess of his mind. Images of his childhood home, filled with the laughter of his parents and the comforting presence of his grandma, danced before his eyes. It was they who nutured his passion for baking, whispering secrets of recipes and transforming symbol ingredients into culinary masterpieces. Their love and support were the bedrock upon which his dream rested, even after their tragic absence. Wuju’s parents have always encouraged his passion for baking, nurturing it with unwavering support and the promise of one day opening his own bakery. They had instilled in him the importance of hard work, dedication, and the knowledge that even the simplest ingredients could be transformed into something magical. Their tragic passing in an accident had left a gaping hole in his life, but their memory fueled his determination to make their dream a reality.

Grandma had become his rock in the wake of their loss. Her wrinkled hands, once strong and nimble, now guided him as they needed dough and shaped pastries. Her eyes, though clouded with grief, held up a spark of pride as she watched her grandson channel his grief into creativity. She shared with him not only the secrets of her recipes but also the wisdom of a life well lived, teaching him the resilience and strength needed to navigate life challenges.

His support system through the difficult times consisted of his lifelong friend Jun and the Jun family. Jun, his childhood bestie and resident rockstar, was always there to weather the stormy seas of Wuju’s emotions, even if it meant wearing questionable glitter eyeshadow in solidarity. Their love and support filled the void left by his parents, offering comfort and belonging. Jun, a vibrant soul with a passion for music and a voice that could melt hearts, had always been a source of joy for Wuju. In their childhood, their families had been inseparable, with Wuju spending countless hours at Jun’s household, welcomed with open arms. They would spend hours emerging in music jam sessions, their melodies echoing their shared love for music.

However, Jun’s path took a different turn when he pursued his dream of becoming an idol by joining a training program at a prominent entertainment company. The reality of industry had quickly disillusioned him. He realised the rigorous training and demanding schedule lacked the passion and spontaneity that had once fuelled his dreams.

Then there is Q, Jun's brother, who is in stark contrast to Jun. A self-proclaimed science geek, Q possesses an utmost fanatical devotion to the cosmos; this shared interest in space had initially drawn Wuju to him, offering a comfort heaven for quiet contemplations and shared wonder. Wuju, an only child, cherished the unexpected siblings like a bond, finding comfort in their shared conversation about galaxies. Q's fascination with space had even let him develop a silent crush on Wuju. He found solace in their shared passion, mistaking Wuju’s, patient listening, and genuine interest as an echo of his own feelings, quotes, and innocent misinterpretation of Wuju’s kindness as love hard led to a painful confession, leaving Wuju shocked.

But even after rejection, Q's feelings persisted and even intensified after he began interning at a prestigious space research institute. Determined to win Wuju’s affection, Q kept trying to impress him with scientific jargon that went over Wuju’s head faster than a rocket launch. He even started tagging along to the bakery with Jun, peppering Wuju with enough space facts to fuel a rocket launch to Neptune, each one landing with the thud of a deflated party balloon, while Wuju just noted and smiled, feeling like he was trapped on a one-way trip to Mars. The word ‘space and universe' once a source of fascination now evokes a sense of unease. It was a constant reminder of the rejection he had caused and the awkwardness that now defined their friendship. Despite the pain, Wuju didn’t blame Q; he understood the power of misinterpretation and loneliness that could foster such feelings, and he yearned to rebuild their friendship. Not as lovers, but as the brotherly companions they once were.

With the opening of a bakery one week away, His heart bled into every croissant, his tears turned into molten chocolate lava cake filling, and his anxieties were kneaded into delightfully chewy sourdough. His bakery was his century, a universe of his own making filled with the intoxicating scent of happiness.

Opening day was just a week away from the Halloween celebration that always sends his small town into a frenzy. The vibrant buzz of Halloween preparations filled the air, contrasting sharply with the focused silence within the confines of Wuju Bakery. Despite Jun offering his full assistance, Wuju couldn’t afford to hire full-time staff. The workload was immense. Wuju spent long hours sourcing ingredients, perfecting recipes, and designing bakery interiors, transforming them into a heaven of warmth and deliciousness. Sleep became a luxury, and the thought of the upcoming Halloween festival filled him with a bittersweet ache. He longed to join the parade of costume revealers, to lose himself in merriment and laughter. However, the responsibility of his dream, the culmination of years of hard work and sacrifice, held him firmly in place.

The clatter of mixing bowls and the rhythmic kneading of dough filled the air as Wuju prepared for the grand opening of his bakery. Suddenly the door swung open, and Q, his eyes sparkling with excitement, walked in his brother Jun, trailing behind him. 

"Wuju, look what I have built?” Q claimed, holding aloft the corruption of wires, antennas, and blinking lights, “it is a signal transmitter capable of sending messages directly into outer space.”

Wuju’s brow furrowed out as he saw a familiar glint of excitement in Q's eyes’ coupled with the contraption he held aloft. Memories of Q's past run-ins with the law flashed through his mind, each incident a reminder of his friends reckless disregard for regulations. Q's unorthodox methods led him into trouble. He conducted unauthorized experiments testing his inventions in the dead of night, earning stern warnings from Officer Raaz.

He appreciated Q's enthusiasm, but his own passion for space has faded, replaced by the all-encompassing demands of the bakery. The transmitter, while impressive, felt intrusive in its current focus.

Wuju's smile went as brittle as stale gingerbread. 'Sure, fascinating,' he choked out, eyeing the contraption like a suspicious stray cat. "But as you know, I’m pretty busy getting ready for opening.”.

Q's excitement faltered slightly, but he persisted. “But Wuju, this would be revolutionary. We could contact an alien civilization, learn about the culture and technology, and imagine the possibilities."

Wuju, while intrigued, remained skeptical. He had a variety of Q's, an impulsive nature, and a tendency to overlook potential risks.

“Q That sounds impressive, but isn't it a bit dangerous? I mean operating such an untested device in my bakery.”

Q dismissed this concern with a wave of his hands. “Don’t worry, Wuju; I have tested it thoroughly and even sent signals. It’s perfectly safe. Look, I will even show you how it works.”

Q launched into a lecture, waving wires like a manic puppeteer controlling the destiny of the universe. The allure of sending a message into the unknown was tempting, yet the potential risk looked large in his mind. Despite his reservation, Wuju couldn’t resist the opportunity as Q meticulously guided him through the control panels, explaining the complex function of the device. Wuju felt a thrill of anticipation as he watched Q press a button in the room, busted with energy. A powerful signal pulsed through the air, carrying an unspoken message into the infinite expanse of the cosmos.

“There you go” Q announced, beaming with pride. "We just sent our first message in the space. Imagine someone out there might be listening right now.”

Wuju chuckled with a touch of disbelief in his voice. “I think that’s a bit of stretch Q, but hey, it was fun.”

He didn’t truly believe anything would come out of it. The universe was vast, and the chances of the message being received seemed impossibly remote.

As Wuju was going to resume the work that got halted on their arrival, when Q began "Wuju," his voice was nervous yet enthusiastic.

“Let’s go to the town's Halloween festival together. Imagine all the costumes, the spooky decorations, and the delicious streets." Q exclaimed, his voice bubbling with excitement, “I even have a surprise for you.”

Wuju's smile faltered slightly. flicker of regret crosses his features. As much as the idea of celebrating Halloween appealed to him, he was already drowning in preparations for the upcoming opening of his bakery.

“Q, I appreciate you inviting me, but I’m afraid I won't be able to make it."Wuju said apologetically. “The bakery opening is around the corner, and I am swamped with work. I have so much to do, from finalizing the menu to ordering supplies and decorating the space.“

Q's face fell, his previous enthusiasm dampened by Wuju’s rejection.

"Oh, I understand,” he mumbled, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I just thought it would be fun to celebrate together. I even had a pair of matching alien headbands prepared for us.”

A pang of guilt stabbed Wuju's heart. The Halloween festivals beckoned a promising night of revelry and escape. Yet the responsibility of his dream, the culmination of years of hard work and dedication, weighed heavily on his heart. He knew that his bakery wasn’t just a business. It was a symbol of his passion and a testament to the love and support of his family and friends.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the town, Wuju made a decision. He would dedicate himself entirely to ensuring the smooth opening of 'Wuju Bakery'. He would honor the memories of his loved ones, the unwavering beliefs of his friends, and the passion that had always burned brightly within him. He would create his own magic, a magic woven with flour, sugar, and the joy of sharing his passion with the world.

Though he missed the opportunity to celebrate Halloween with others, He would open his door to the community, sharing his creation with smiles and warm hospitality. He would create a haven for families and friends, a place where laughter mingled with the aroma of freshly baked treats. Though he missed the opportunity to celebrate Halloween with others, he knew true celebration had yet to come. And that, he knew, was a celebration worth waiting for.

However, unbeknownst to them, on a distant planet orbiting a star, an alien awaited the signal.

Chapter Text

Raon stared out the palace window, watching the sun cast long shadows across his planet of Eldoria. His heart ached with longing that no jewel in his royal chambers could soothe. He was a prince, heir to the Aethal clan, but his destiny was not his own.

Raon stood apart from his fellow Eldorian’s. While they possessed the standard telepathic and telekinetic abilities, Raon was a prodigy. He possessed an exceptional mastery of telekinesis, allowing him to manipulate objects with unparalleled precision and force. But Raon's true power lay in his ability to manipulate energy. He could absorb and channel various forms of energy, create impenetrable shields of pure force, and even teleport short distances. His superhuman speed added another layer to his already impressive arsenal. He could move at blinding speeds, leaving trails of shimmering afterimages in his wake.

But in Eldoraria, where same-sex marriages were celebrated but opposite-sex unions were forbidden, his powers were more than a gift; they were a burden. His betrothal to Astro, the heir to the rival Solaris clan, was a political maneuver—a loveless alliance meant to solidify power, not ignite love. The irony stung that in a world that embraced diverse forms of love, Raon was denied the right to choose his own.

Astro, too, was trapped in a gilded cage. He was raised by his two loving mothers. He was expected to fulfill the loveless arrangement with Raon. However, Astro's heart belonged to someone else, who happened to be his fiancée Raon's sister, Raine. The forbidden love was a constant source of worry for Raon, but he knew they would never be happy living in fear and hiding their affection.

The legalization of opposite-sex marriage had been a bitter pill for Raon's father, the Emperor, swallowed only under mounting pressure from the Eldorian people. Rumors swirled that the Emperor still harbored his disapproval, waiting for an opportunity to prove his true stance. Raon knew that if he ran away with Astro, it would be seen as the perfect excuse to crack down on the newly legalized unions and crush any hope for true love between men and women.

He would play his part, whether on the palace stage or in the forbidden streets, for love's symphony refused to be silenced. But he also knew that his fight for love extended beyond his own desires. He had to fight for Astro and Raine, for all the Eldorians yearning for a world where love bloomed in every color, not just the ones sanctioned by ancient prejudice. same-sex unions, whispers of forbidden love danced in the shadows—opposite-sex unions, deemed unholy by ancient laws, bloomed like illicit wildflowers. Yet Raon's family, clinging to tradition like a moth to a flame, remained blind to the vibrant tapestry of change unfurling around them. In their eyes, Raon's betrothal to Astro was a thread to strengthen the weave, but within his own heart, a rebel thread thrummed—a melody of acceptance waiting to be unraveled.

The path ahead was fraught with danger and uncertainty, but Raon, with his extraordinary powers and unwavering resolve, was ready to weave a new future for Eldoria, one thread of love at a time.

 Fueled by the growing movement and the unwavering strength of his own convictions, Raon decided to take a stand. Raon's plan was audacious and daring. He would run away before his wedding, throwing Eldoria into chaos and forcing the issue of the emperor’s stance on opposite-sex marriage to the forefront. But his escape was not just for himself; it was for his sister, whose own story was threatened by traditions. He knows that, but taking his drastic step, he would force his father to choose.

Raon informed his friend Hatchi of his plans, who insisted Raon not escape alone and suggested he accompany. Raon and Hatchi stood in the clandestine room, the air thick with the scent of desperation and anticipation. Raon’s heart was beating like a drum against his ribs, fueled by a potent cocktail of fear and determination. His escape plan, though daring, had a crucial flaw—he had nowhere to go.

Hatchi, ever the pragmatist, mirrored Raon’s concern. “We need a destination, Raon,” he said, his voice a low murmur. “Without one, we’re just adrift." Raon nodded, the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders. He was escaping for himself.

He was a symbol of rebellion. A beacon of hope for countless individuals yearning for a world where love knew no bounds. His escape had to mean something.

Suddenly, a flicker of realization crossed Raon’s face. "Astro,” he breathed, his voice filled with a renewed sense of purpose. “He might have the answer.”

He revealed to Hatchi the news Astro confided in him. Astro, being the head of security on the planet, had discovered a serious set of mysterious signals emitting from a distant planet called Earth. A spark of hope ignited within his eyes. Could Earth be the answer?

Without wasting any other moment, they sought out Astro. The head of security listened intently to Raon, his face etched with a mixture of shock and admiration. He knew of Raon’s discontent, but the prince's audacious escape plan took his breath away. When Raon finished, Astro revealed details of enigmatic signals from Earth. He confessed his own desire to understand the message and, in a moment of profound understanding, offered his help. Their proposition was simple yet audacious: build a spaceship capable of reaching Earth. It was a gamble, a leap of faith into the unknown, but it was their only chance to fight for answers and forge a new path. 

Fueled by a shared sense of purpose, Raon, Hatchi, and Astro united their talent and resources. They recruited the best engineers and scientists, assembled the necessary materials, and poured their hands and minds into the construction of this celestial vessel. Once the base workshop transformed into a hive of activity, bustling with the sound of hammering, welding, and their favorite discussion, Each compound in each metric list detail was a testament to their unwavering belief in freedom and love.

With trembling hands and hearts pounding with anticipation, Raon and Hatchi bordered the gleaming spaceship. The combination of months of tireless efforts and their unwavering determination stood before them, a simple act of hope and defiance against the rigid laws of Eldoria. Hatchi, ever the resourceful inventor, devised a cunning plan to evade detection. Utilizing his knowledge of Eldoria’s hidden network of tunnels and passages, he orchestrated a masterful escape, leaving the palace guards bewildered and empty-handed.

The thrumming hum of the spaceship engines vibrated through Raon's boots, a tangible pulse of their imminent escape. Yet, amidst the thrill of freedom, a shadow lingered in his heart. Astro, his ever-pragmatic brother, had been stoic in severing their telepathic link—a necessary yet chilling severing of an invisible cord. But for Raine, his vibrant sister, her eyes held a universe of unshed tears as she said goodbye. 

He replayed the scene in his mind, the echo of her whispered, "Be careful, Raon," still clinging to the air. Her hand, usually bursting with playful energy, had felt limp and fragile in his. In that moment, the weight of his sacrifice, the cost of a freer Eldoria, settled like a leaden cloak on his shoulders. 

It was only a matter of days after spaceship completion that the long-awaited signal from Earth finally arrived. It pulsed with a rhythmic intensity, beckoning them towards the unknown, but before they could embark on their journey, Astro took a precautious measure. He deactivated the telepathic abilities that linked Raon and Hatchi to their fellow Eldorians'. It was a necessary sacrifice, a serving of invisible thread that bound them to their past. To truly escape, they need to cut all ties. But Astro, understanding the profound importance of communication, presented Rain with a headband equipped with a powerful antenna.

“This will allow us to communicate across vast distances," he explained, his voice tinged with both sadness and hope. “Should the need arise? Remember, we are just a thought away.”
With heavy hearts but resolute spirits, Raon and Hatchi donned the headbands, stealing themselves from the unknown. Their journey to earth was not just a voyage; it was a journey towards a new life, a life free from the shackles of prejudice and oppression.

The gleaming spaceship hustled through the vast emptiness, carrying Raon and Hatchi towards their unknown destiny on Earth. The signal from Earth pulsed steadily, guiding them through the cosmic ocean. Hatchi’s extensive research had painted a vivid picture of this mysterious world, a place where love flowed freely, defying societal boundaries and embracing its diverse forms. He had even managed to install language translation software on Raon’s and his own devices, allowing them to communicate with the Earthlings they would encounter.

Astro had provided valuable information about the physical similarities between Earthlings and Eldorian's; earthlings were mirror images of Eldorian's, but while lacking the telekinetic and energy manipulation abilities of Eldorian’s, earthlings possessed remarkable technological powers. This disparity intrigued Raon, who longed for advanced civilization and its unique prospects. But beyond the tech, a curious similarity remained—food—Earthlings Astro had assured them fueled themselves with it too, though their cuisine looked vibrant with the energy of Eldorian’s delicacies.

Propelled by the self-piloting marvel of their spaceship, they arrived on Earth sooner than their wildest calculations. Raon and Hatchi spend their time on a spaceship studying Earth's culture, language, and history, eager to integrate into their new home. The more they learned, the more excited they became for the life that awaited. 

Finally, after seemingly endless days, the signal from Earth intensified significantly. The spaceship and instruments humped with the newfound energy and inspiration that filled the air as they emerged from the depths of space, and a breathtaking side created their eyes. Earth, a vibrant blue jewel adorned with swelling clouds, hung suspended in the vastness of space.

Gravity and a gentle pull guided the vessel towards Earth. the self-guided vessel programmed for pinpoint precision aimed at signal origin. Little did they know its destination lay not amidst an open field but within the bustling heart of Wuju Bakery, its oven preheating for next week’s grand opening.

But a miscalculation has it off balance. The descent went awry. Instead of a gentle touchdown, the self-guided vessel landed on an open area near the location. From the signal where it was sent. One wheel of the spaceship clipped the ground with a screech of tortured metal. The ship wheel found its final purpose, churning against the cobbled street. Then, with a defaming crunch, the bakery door shattered railing down a cascade of glass and sugar dust, and the spaceship coughed its final breath, useless metal husk in a flour-dusted world.

Chapter Text

Wuju, his back aching from a day of endless dough-kneading and oven-tending, poured himself a generous splash of alcohol into his chipped mug. The amber liquid glinted in the soft light, promising a warm oblivion at the end of this long, chaotic day. The grand opening of Wuju Bakery was only a week away, and the pressure was a knot tight in his stomach.

He drained the drink in one gulp, and the fiery kiss was a temporary balm. Sleep beckoned from the tiny room above the bakery, but he forced himself to do one last task: clearing the overflowing bins. Stepping out into the cool night air, the familiar scent of jasmine mingled with the tang of garbage. He heard it. A sound like shattering glass, followed by a low, metallic groan. Heart-hammering, Wuju raced back into the bakery. His shout died in his throat as he stared at the scene before him. A mangled hunk of metal, gleaming incongruously under the moonlight, lay sprawled across the flour-dusted floor. And next to it, two figures. Two impossibly tall figures, clad in shimmering suits and wearing strange headbands adorned with glowing antennae Wuju rushed back into the bakery, his shout caught in his throat as he surveyed the surreal scene. Before him lay a mangled spacecraft, gleaming oddly under the moonlight, and beside it stood two towering figures in shimmering suits adorned with glowing antennae. As strangers in a strange encounter, the air crackled with an unspoken tension, leaving Wuju both bewildered and intrigued.

One, tall and lean with an air of quiet authority, spoke first. His voice, a melodic warble tinged with static, filtered through the helmet. “Greetings, Earthling. We come in peace. We require assistance.”

The other, shorter and rounder, with nervous jitters in his antenna, chimed in with frantic gestures. “Hachi says! Don’t worry! We…” he fumbled for the word, “…crashed! Accidentally! Need help”

Wuju blinked, alcohol fumes swirling in his head. Aliens? Crashed? His baker’s mind, usually focused on dough and frosting, couldn’t quite grasp this cosmic curveball. He squinted at the “aliens,” suspicion warring with the absurdity.

 Raon couldn’t help but admire the earthling. He was compact, sure, but with a strong build and gentle hands dusted with flour. His brow furrowed in confusion, giving his dark eyes a soulful intensity. Raon found himself blushing beneath his helmet, his internal translator struggling to decipher the Earthling’s language.

Hachi, ever the nervous wreck, babbled on. “Hachi says! Engine… sputtered! Lost control! Please, help?”

The sight of it sent a primal scream scrambling up Wuju’s throat, caught only by the alcohol-induced fuzz in his head. Two figures, shimmering in costumes far exceeding even Halloween’s usual theatrics, loomed over his flour-dusted kingdom. Antennas, like twisted neon lightning bolts, protruded from their sleek helmets, mocking the meager sparklers he’d strung across the bakery ceiling. Anger, hot and potent, coursed through him, fueled by the alcohol and the bitter disappointment of a dream turned cosmic joke. “Q,” he croaked, his voice thick with disbelief and something close to betrayal. “Funny… but you took it a bit too far. Halloween ended hours ago, buddy.” His hand, slick with dough, fumbled for the rolling pin, its familiar weight offering a sliver of comfort in this surreal tableau. “Think this is funny? Destroying my bakery? Not cool, man.”

His words, slurred as they were, echoed in the stunned silence. The antenna-ed figures exchanged bewildered glances, their alien features obscured by the flickering glow of his overturned oven. In their eyes, Wuju saw only amusement, the cold indifference of a prankster gone too far. His fists clenched, the alcohol-fueled anger solidifying into righteous indignation. This wasn’t a game. This was his livelihood, his future, turned to dust and singed dough. And Q had finally gone off the rails.

“Look, fellas,” he spat, gripping the counter for support. “I appreciate the Halloween spirit, but you’ve taken it a tad too far. Q might think this is hilarious, but it’s not funny.”

His eyes narrowed, and a spark of anger momentarily pushed back the fog of alcohol swirling in his head. This was his dream—his haven of fragrant dough and golden crusts, now ravaged by extraterrestrial debris. Q was always pushing the boundaries, but this was a step too far.

Raon studied him with an air of bewilderment. His translator whirred, struggling to parse the garbled Earth slang. “Q? We… who?”Hachi chirped in distress, his antennae flailing wildly. “No Q! Crash! Accident! Need help!”

The silence stretched thick and suffocating, punctuated only by the hiss of escaping steam and the frantic whirring of Raon’s translator struggling to decipher Wuju’s drunken accusations. Hachi, his antennae drooping like wilted daisies, squeaked, “No Q! Crash! Accident! Need help!” but the words seemed to bounce off Wuju’s alcohol-fueled shield of disbelief.

Raon, ever the diplomat, tried a different approach. “We are not from here,” he said, his voice a modulated hum filtered through his helmet. “We come in peace, seeking assistance.” 
Exasperation tinged with concern flickered in Raon’s eyes. This earthling, with his flour-dusted hair and fierce protectiveness over his ruined dough, was proving more difficult to convince than anticipated. Perhaps, he thought, a visual demonstration was in order. He raised a hand, his palm glowing with energy, and focused on the overturned flour bin. With a crackle and a spark, the dust ignited, not in the feeble yellow of a candle flame but in a mesmerizing blue that danced and danced, casting flickering shadows on the bakery walls.

Wuju stared, his jaw slack, his alcohol-induced anger sputtering like a dying firework. The flames, beautiful and strange, defied any earthly logic. Was this some elaborate special effect, a final flourish to Q’s cruel prank? Or was the alcohol finally pushing him into a fevered hallucination? He blinked, the flames blurring into swirling galaxies, mocking his confusion.

“Not… possible,” he mumbled, his voice thick with disbelief. “Too much alcohol… Must be…” Before he could finish his thought, his legs gave way, the room tilting as the blue flames morphed into an endless starry void. Darkness claimed him, and the last sound was the echo of his own bewildered voice fading into the silence.

Raon kneeled beside the unconscious baker, his heart heavy with regret. Raon cradled the earthling’s head, the earthling’s skin surprisingly warm beneath his metallic fingertips. Disappointment gnawed at him. Their desperate plea for help had turned into a slapstick comedy of confusion and accusations. Why had the earthling fainted? Was it the shock of their arrival—the unexpected crash onto his planet? Or… had Raon’s display of alien energy backfired, pushing the human’s fragile mind over the edge?

A flicker of curiosity sparked alongside the worry. “Halloween,” Wuju had mumbled before slumping unconscious. Raon tilted his head, his translator whirring uselessly. Was this some Earth tradition involving strange costumes and pranks? Did humans celebrate their own close encounters with extraterrestrials? The image of Earthlings dressing up as spacefaring aliens tickled him, momentarily easing the tension in his shoulders.

Hachi, his antenna buzzing with worry, poked Wuju’s cheek with a timid finger. “No Q! We… from Eldoria! Help needed!” He squeaked, his voice a nervous chirp. But Raon knew their words seemed meaningless to the unconscious baker. They were trapped in a bizarre limbo, stranded on this strange planet with technology beyond their understanding and humans beyond their comprehension. A sigh escaped his respirator, the metallic exhale echoing in the flour-dusted silence. This wasn’t the reception they’d envisioned, but they had no choice but to navigate this alien world, one misunderstanding at a time, and pray for a chance to explain themselves before sunrise.
 
Dawn tiptoed through the bakery window, finding a scene straight out of a dream. Wuju, still lost in the slumber realm, lay sprawled on a bed upstairs. Raon, a sentinel of silence, hovered beside him, the hum of his respirator the only lullaby in the room. Wuju’s face, bathed in the soft morning light, seemed sculpted from spun sugar and dandelion fluff. Raon, his fingers drawn by an invisible cord, reached towards the earthling’s cheek, marveling at the warmth that pulsed beneath his touch. It was a heat unlike any he knew—a subtle energy that radiated joy and a quiet hum of life. Hachi, nestled beside him, watched his chest rise and fall, a silent symphony of fascination playing out in his wide, golden eyes. “He’s so… round,” Hachi whispered, the alien equivalent of a sigh escaping his feathery form. “And delightfully squishy.”

“He’s like a… baked moon,” Raon whispered, his voice a feathery chirp. “Golden and round, with freckles like constellations.” The earthlings’ beauty was one of warmth and curves, of imperfections embraced and celebrated. It was a stark contrast to their own sleek lines and engineered elegance—a beauty in the unexpected, in the messy, flour-dusted reality of living.

Downstairs, Raon channeled his power—not to fight or flee, but to create. Flour danced in ethereal ballet, finding its way back to shelves and countertops. Broken pottery mended itself, and the air, once thick with the haze of baking chaos, shimmered with the scent of fresh croissants and cinnamon sunshine. Only the jagged scar in the front window, a gaping tooth in the bakery’s smile, remained as a reminder of their arrival. As the bakery regained its familiar warmth, a wave of panic washed over them. No spaceship. No pulsating engine hum. Hatchi’s antenna twitched. “Ace?!” he chirped, a frantic edge to his voice. Raon, his brow furrowed, pressed his palm against the hair-like tendrils atop his head, seeking their leader’s signal. Silence. Then a crackle, a whisper…
“Raon.” Ace’s voice, muffled by distance, drifted through the strands. “Situation changed. Recalled the ship. Stay grounded. Lay low. I’ll find you. “.Raon’s shoulders slumped, the weight of responsibility heavy on his chest. No escape, no plan, just flour, sunlight, and a sleeping baker with cheeks that Hachi couldn’t help but poke, just once more, for good. As the sun crept higher, painting the bakery in warm hues, a strange feeling bloomed within Raon. It wasn’t fear, nor was it frustration. It was a curiosity, a yearning to understand this life, this planet, and this baker with sleep-tousled hair and a smile that promised warm bread and laughter. Maybe, just maybe, these uncharted days wouldn’t be so bad after all. Maybe, just maybe, even without the stars overhead, Wuju’s world, messy and imperfect as it was, could hold its own kind of magic.

A groan escaped Wuju's sleep-crinkled face, splitting open the heavy curtain of hangover that clouded his memory. The last thing he remembered was a cacophony of metal, glass, and sugar… and maybe a spaceship? He sat up, his head throbbing like a drum solo gone awry, and squinted at the shattered remnants of his pride and joy—the Wuju Bakery’s glass door.

“Did I dream that?” he mumbled, rubbing his gritty eyes. But the sticky film of icing on his fingers and the lingering perfume of burnt metal dispelled any hope of it being a sugar-fueled hallucination. He stumbled downstairs, expecting a scene of cosmic carnage, only to find, well, normalcy. The bakery was pristine, sunlight streaming through the  door, and the air filled with the comforting aroma of rising dough. The only clue to the previous night’s mayhem was a single shard of glass, glinting like a forgotten earring beside a croissant. Wuju frowned. “Did… did I clean up in my sleep?” he muttered, scratching his head. Suddenly, voices drifted from the kitchen, giggling and punctuated by strange slurps and snorts. His heart gave a suspicious leap. Aliens! Again!

Tiptoeing towards the kitchen, he peeked through the swinging door. And there they were, the spaceship duo, minus their fancy headbands, rummaging through his pantry like kids in a candy store. One, the tall one with the sharp cheekbones, was holding a jar of fermented bean paste, sniffing it cautiously.

Raon wrinkled his sharp nose, the fermented bean paste assaulting his senses. “Ugh, this aroma rivals the emperor’s smelliest socks,” he declared, wincing.

Hatchi, his round face perpetually lit by a grin, threw back his head and cackled. “Forget that stink bomb, Raon! Look at these! “Try this, Raon! Sweet, squishy things!” He brandished a handful of feathery white puffs, bouncing them like miniature snowdrifts.

Raon, ever the cautious one, eyed them dubiously. “What… are those? Are they explosive?”

Hatchi’s laughter choked off momentarily. “Oh, come on! You don’t know these delightful creations. Squishy clouds, they are! They are soft as whispers, and they melt on your tongue like stardust." He popped one into his mouth, his eyes widening in blissful surprise. “Mmm, and fluffy secrets inside!”The sight of strangers stuffing his face with sugary fluff was too much for Wuju. He burst through the door, arms flailing. “You! Back in my kitchen! And what happened to your sparkly headbands? Spit out the marshmallows!”

Raon and Hatchi froze, marshmallow fragments dangling from their mouths. “Uh… hi?” Hatchi ventured, a sheepish grin replacing his mischievous one.

Raon, ever the picture of regal composure, swallowed his marshmallow with a gulp. “Greetings, baker,” he said, bowing slightly. “We apologize for the… unorthodox arrival yesterday. May we explain?” The sight of an unfamiliar man stuffing his face with sugary puffs like a bottomless pit triggered Wuju’s volcanic temper. He stormed through the kitchen door, arms wind milling in fury. “Get out of my bakery, you sugar-snarfing scoundrels! And where’d you ditch your fancy hats? Spit out those… those… whatever they are!”

The two men froze, marshmallow crumbs clinging to their faces like glittery stalactites. “Uh… hi?” the shorter one offered, his grin shrinking under Wuju’s glare.

The taller one, ever the diplomat, attempted a bow, albeit with a marshmallow stuck to his lapel. “Greetings, baker. We apologize for the… unexpected entrance yesterday. May we explain?”
But Wuju, his bakery, his dream scheduled to open next week, lay ravaged. Sugar dust coated everything, flour angels lay slain on the floor, and a rogue frosting bag dangled like a deflated balloon. In his mind, the culprit was clear. “Q, you overgrown Gremlin! This is your handiwork, isn’t it? Turning my dream into a sticky, sugary nightmare!” He ranted, ignoring the men’s attempts to speak.

Blinded by fury, he didn’t even give them a chance to explain. Instead, he grabbed his phone, dialing Q’s number with trembling fingers. But instead of the usual obnoxious ringtone, silence greeted him. A knot of doubt began to form in his stomach. Q, despite his penchant for pranks, had never gone this far. He tried again, and again, each call met with the same infuriating silence.

Desperate for a voice of reason, Wuju dialed his best friend, Jun. “Hey, Jun,” he said, his voice tight with frustration. “Q hasn’t picked up all morning. Did he, by any chance, show up at the Halloween party last night?”

Jun’s bewildered voice crackled through the receiver. “Q at the party? Are you kidding? You weren’t even there yourself, remember? He avoids these crowds unless you are present.!”

The echo of Jun's voice faded, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. Wuju stood on the landing, a bitter pill clogging his throat. He’d let the alcohol fumes cloud his judgment, condemning Q without a crumb of evidence. Q wouldn’t stoop to this, especially knowing how much the bakery meant to him. The guilt coiled in his gut, sharper than a dropped bread knife, a searing reminder of his own drunken folly.

The only relief, a bitter ember in the ashes of his shame, was that Jun and Q remained blissfully unaware of the twisted path his alcohol-addled mind had taken. He couldn’t bear the thought of their disappointed eyes, their trust shattered by a phantom accusation born of his own clouded judgment. For now, at least, he held onto that fragile shard of relief, a shaky bridge back to sanity.

Wuju stomped into the kitchen, the anger he’d quelled for his friend boiling over again. His gaze fixed on the two strangers, still perched on his stools, oblivious to the turmoil they’d unleashed. They were intruders, trespassers who’d turned his dream into a disaster zone.

Raon and Hatchi, oblivious to the storm that had just raged within Wuju, continued their animated conversation. Their alien language flowed like a babbling brook, punctuated by bursts of laughter that sounded suspiciously like the gurgling of his prized sourdough starter. He couldn’t understand their words, but their enthusiasm was contagious.
“Alright, who the hell are you?” His voice cracked with fury, echoing in the cavernous space. “And what did you do to my bakery?”

Raon and Hatchi froze, their conversation sputtering to a halt, picking up on the raw aggression in Wuju’s voice. The translator whirred, struggling to keep up with his agitated pace.

Hatchi squeaked, his bright eyes dimming. “But… we only wanted to help,” he chirped, gesturing towards the scattered dough and upturned bowls. “We are…”

“Save it!” Wuju roared, slamming his fist against the counter. “Help? You mean demolishing my door and taking over my kitchen?!”

Raon stepped forward, his translator spitting out words with a mechanical edge. “We apologize for the inconvenience,” he said, his voice strained. “Our vessel malfunctioned. We crashed. We are seeking…

“Seeking what?” Wuju snarled, cutting him off. “More chaos? More destruction? Are you here to steal my recipes and my livelihood? Spit it out before I call the authorities!”

The kitchen air crackled with tension. Raon and Hatchi exchanged a worried glance, their alien forms radiating unease. The warmth Wuju felt earlier, the flicker of empathy, was extinguished by the flames of his own anger. He needed answers; he needed control. These strange beings, with their cryptic words and unsettling presence, were a threat to everything he’d built.

Wuju felt the rage begin to ebb, like a tide retreating from the shore. He saw the fear in Raon and Hatchi’s eyes, mirroring his own earlier vulnerability. Taking a deep breath, he forced his voice down to a growl. “Look,” he rasped, “getting angry won’t fix anything. Explain yourselves. Who are you, and why are you in my bakery?”Hatchi, unable to contain his chipper nature, bounced on his stool. “And I’m Hatchi,” he chirped, offering a toothy grin. “Raon’s navigator, best friend, and official ambassador of fluffy stardust!”

Wuju raised an eyebrow. “Navigator, huh? It looks like your navigation needs some work, pal.” He gestured toward the gaping hole in his storefront. “Unless crashing through my bakery was part of the escape plan.”

Raon chuckled, a dry, slightly nervous sound. “Let’s just say our arrival was… unplanned. But trust me, baker,” he added, his voice gaining gravitas, “our situation is far more complicated than a simple crash landing.

He leaned back against the counter, his voice tinged with steel. “Wuju,” he stated, reclaiming his identity from the alien moniker they’d bestowed, “and I’m all ears. Let’s hear this tale of unplanned arrivals.”

He released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “We are from Eldoria,” he said, his voice a low hum. “Our planet faces… difficulties. And… well, I made a decision. An escape. A temporary one, I assure you.”

Hatchi bounced on his stool, perking up. “Wedding problems!” he chirped, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Big, fluffy, marriage-of-convenience problems!”

“So you crashed here?” he asked, gesturing towards the gaping hole in his storefront.
“Malfunction,” Raon muttered, a tinge of shame in his voice. “Unforeseen turbulence, navigational error…”

Hatchi waved his hand dismissively. “Details, details! We’re here now.”

A snort of disbelief escaped Wuju’s lips. Aliens? Princes fleeing arranged marriages? It all smacked of a particularly outlandish sci-fi flick, the kind his grandma used to watch on grainy old TVs. “Eldoria, huh?” he said, dragging the name out like stubborn dough. “And I suppose you’re the queen’s favorite pastry chef, here to learn the fine art of sourdough?”

His gaze raked over Raon, taking in the regal posture, the sharp features, and the unsettling gleam in his alien eyes. Handsome, Wuju had to admit. Too handsome, too perfect. No way was this some disgruntled prince seeking solace in a dusty bakery kitchen.

And Hatchi, the chirpy one, bouncing like a sugar-fueled dough ball, was even harder to swallow. Aliens didn’t exist, not in Wuju’s world. They were figments of imagination, late-night conspiracy theories whispered over lukewarm beers. He needed proof—some shred of evidence—to anchor this fantastical tale to reality.

Grabbing his phone, Wuju retreated to the corner, the flickering screen a shield against their scrutiny. “Eldoria,” he typed, fingers clumsy in his agitation. “Interstellar travel,” “alien royalty,” each search term yielding nothing but blurry photos of costume parties and articles debunking UFO sightings. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. So, a clever prank, then? Or maybe some elaborate con job?

The screen illuminated Wuju’s face, casting flickering shadows on the wall as he scrolled through search results. Each page that displayed nothing but grainy photos of cosplay gatherings and debunked conspiracy theories chipped away at the sliver of belief he’d nurtured during their conversation. A smirk tugged at his lips, tinged with bitter satisfaction. So, aliens were just elaborate costumes, and intergalactic travel was a figment of overactive imaginations.

Raon and Hatchi leaned towards him, curiosity momentarily eclipsing their apprehension. They’d learned, during their crash course in Earthling customs, that these strange devices called “mobiles” were their method of communication, a vast library held within their palms. Seeing the furrowed brow and muttered curses emanating from Wuju’s screen, Raon couldn’t help but ask, “What troubles you, Wuju?”

His head snapped up, the smirk vanishing as quickly as it came. “Eldoria,” he growled, flinging the phone towards the countertop. It landed with a soft thud, the silence echoing his disbelief. "According to your earthling magic trick—I mean, this Google thing—it doesn’t exist. So, spill it, fellas. Are you here for my dough, my secret sourdough starter, or just a good laugh at a baker’s expense?”

Raon blinked, his translator whirring with confusion. “Google?” he mumbled, the alien word strangely familiar. “You use this device to find answers?”

Wuju scoffed. “Answers, ha! More like a bottomless pit of information, most of it useless. But for something as outlandish as Eldoria and interstellar princesses, even Google draws a blank.”

Hatchi, whose chirpy optimism had dimmed under Wuju’s doubt, perked up at the mention of princesses. “Princesses?!” he squeaked, bouncing on his stool. “Did you say princesses? We have those on Eldoria! Fluffy ones with six legs and a taste for stardust!”

Wuju rolled his eyes. “Sure, and I bet they ride unicorns made of moonbeams. Look, I appreciate the show, but I’m calling the cops. Two guys in costumes causing property damage… that’s a headline even Google can’t bury.”

Even though he wanted to call cops he want to give the intruders a chance so he wouldn’t regret it later , with newfound confidence in his stride. “Alright, fellas,” he announced, leaning against the counter with arms crossed. “Show me some proof. A ship malfunction report, a royal warrant, anything. Because right now, all I see are two very convincing actors with a knack for theatrics. “ The air crackled with tension as Wuju’s ultimatum hung heavy in the kitchen. Raon and Hatchi exchanged a worried glance, the translator whirring between their whispers. The weight of Wuju’s skepticism pressed down on them, threatening to suffocate the fragile trust they’d built.

Raon knew they needed proof—something tangible to bridge the chasm of disbelief. He considered revealing his telekinetic abilities, but the memory of Wuju’s fear after witnessing his energy manipulation yesterday gave him pause. He needed something different, something earthlings could comprehend.

“I can show you,” Raon stammered, his voice laced with desperation. “We have… abilities in Eldoria. Things… impossible on Earth.”

Intrigued despite himself, Wuju raised an eyebrow. “Show me then,” he challenged, arms still crossed, suspicion lingering in his eyes.

Hatchi chirped excitedly, bouncing on his stool. “Speed! Raon is the fastest prince in all of Eldoria! Like, like a furry comet!”

Raon took a deep breath, focusing on his core. In Eldoria, his enhanced speed was his signature move—a blur of movement leaving others breathless. He closed his eyes, picturing the familiar rush of adrenaline and the wind whispering against his skin. Then, in a blink, he was gone. 

Wuju blinked, expecting a blur and a sudden shift in the air. But nothing happened. The kitchen remained as still as the dough rising in the proofing box. Disappointment washed over him, bolstering his skepticism.

He opened his eyes to see Raon back in his original spot, panting heavily. His features were pale, with a sheen of sweat on his brow.

“What… what just happened?” Wuju scoffed. “Did you take a trip to the fridge and back? That wasn’t exactly comet-worthy.”

Raon slumped, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “It… it doesn’t work,” he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. “The gravity… it’s different here. My speed… it’s muted.”

Hatchi let out a mournful chirp. “No fuzzy comet for the baker.” Raon’s slumped figure mirrored the deflated state of the bakery. The air, once thick with the yeasty promise of fresh bread, now hung heavy with unspoken tension. Wuju’s voice, though still laced with frustration, softened a touch as he saw the genuine remorse etched on Raon’s face.
He took a deep breath, willing himself to be reasonable, even compassionate. “Look,” he started again, his words measured, “I understand you might not be familiar with Earth customs… But that door wasn’t made of stardust. It cost real money, sweat, and dreams to put in place. And right now, all I see is a pile of splinters and a heap of trouble.”

Raon, oblivious to the storm brewing in Wuju’s eyes, offered a hopeful smile. “Don’t worry, baker,” he chirped, reaching into his belt pouch. “Astro, assure me we had enough! Here.” He proudly presented a wad of vibrantly colored bills.

Wuju’s stomach clenched. He unfolded the bills, counting them with a sinking heart. 50,000 won. A decent sum—enough for groceries and maybe a new pair of oven mitts. But for replacing the shattered heart of his bakery, it was a laughable drop in the bucket. A wave of disappointment washed over him, tinged with a bitter echo of his own past struggles.

“50,000 won?” he echoed, his voice flat. “Raon, that wouldn’t even cover the splinters, let alone the lost dreams that lie in that pile of glass. My livelihood isn’t built on fairy tales and fluffy princesses. It’s built on flour, fire, and fair prices. And right now, the scales are tipped heavily against me.”

The warmth in Raon's eyes evaporated, replaced by a dawning realization of the gravity of their situation. His smile faltered, and his shoulders slumped under the weight of Wuju’s words. The bakery, once a haven of rising dough and hopeful dreams, now felt cold and unforgiving, the air thick with the unspoken consequence of their crash landing.

The failed attempt at showcasing his speed, coupled with their lack of familiarity with basic earthly things like Google and marshmallows, solidified Wuju’s conviction. These weren’t aliens; they were humans, just not from around here. His mind spun with possibilities, none of them particularly pleasant.

The strangeness of their attire and language suggested a remote, possibly underdeveloped country. Illiteracy wasn’t uncommon in such places, and the elaborate Eldoria’s tale could be a desperate fabrication, woven to avoid legal trouble. Perhaps they were illegal immigrants, hiding from authorities after sneaking into Korea. The thought triggered a wave of sympathy mixed with apprehension. He remembered his own struggles and the desperation that drove him to take risks.

A knot of guilt tightened in his gut. Even if they were hiding something, even if their story was a cover-up, they were still people lost and adrift. They’d crashed into his life, causing chaos, yes, but they hadn’t meant harm. His mind, fueled by empathy and the lingering doubt about their true origin, raced for a solution.

Wuju surveyed the wreckage, his heart sinking like a deflating souffle. The shattered glass door gaped like a mocking wound, a testament to the chaos these strange visitors had brought into his life. He could call the police and have them hauled away, but something in their wide, pleading eyes, in Hatchi’s mournful chirps, stayed in his hand.

“Alright,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Frankly, your Eldoria stuff falls flatter than a burnt croissant, but that door needs fixin’. So, we’ll put aside the fairy tales and strike a deal. Let’s be adults about this. You broke my door, you caused a mess, and trust me, that new glass won’t come cheap. So, here’s the deal.”

Raon’s eyes, dull with despair, flickered with a spark of hope. “Deal?” he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.

”Yeah, a deal,” Wuju confirmed, his voice hardening slightly. “You two work for me, sweat it out in the bakery, learn the art of bread, and maybe, just maybe, you can earn back the cost of that shattered dream.”

Hatchi’s eyes, wide and pleading, flitted between the shattered glass and Wuju’s hardening face. “But baker,” he piped up, his voice small and uncertain, “we’re not… We’re not like you think. Eldoria is real, I swear! We just…”

Wuju held up a hand, cutting him off. His voice, though still firm, carried a hint of weary resignation. “Look, Hatchi,” he said. “I appreciate the honesty, but frankly, I’m past interstellar fairy tales. You two messed up, and now we’re dealing with the fallout. No more Eldoria; no more space whales. Just hard work and a chance to make things right.”

Raon, his gaze fixed on the floor, nodded silently. He knew Wuju’s skepticism was justified; their elaborate tale was a flimsy shield against the truth. But the thought of revealing their real identities and their desperate situation filled him with dread.

“But how can we earn your trust?” Raon murmured, his voice a low rumble, “if we can’t even be honest about who we are?”

Wuju sighed, running a hand through his hair. He understood the bind they were in—the fear that kept their true story locked away. “Look, I’m not expecting confessions or grand pronouncements,” he said, his voice softening slightly. “Just show me what you’re made of. Work hard, learn the craft, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll see beyond the broken door and into your hearts.”

Hatchi, whose ears perked up at the shift in tone, let out a squeak of excitement. “We can do that, baker! We can learn the secrets of bread and the magic of flour! We’ll be the best bakery assistants in…”

He faltered, his gaze darting toward Raon. Raon, catching his friend’s worried look, offered a reassuring smile. “We’ll be the best assistants you’ve ever seen,” he finished, his voice firm despite the tremor in his hand. “No Eldoria, no space whales, just two strangers with a lot to prove.”

Wuju studied their faces, the flicker of doubt in his eyes battling with a newfound sense of empathy. He saw the fear and the desperation, but also the determination and the spark of hope. In that moment, he made a choice. He would take a chance, not on interstellar princesses or comet-riding princes, but on two individuals seeking redemption, two souls seeking a place to belong.
“Alright,” he said, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Welcome to the team. Now, let’s get to work. We’ve got a bakery to fix and a lot of dough to rise.”

And so the unlikely partnership began. The bakery, once a haven of solitude, became a crucible of shared secrets and unspoken truths. The aroma of baking bread mingled with the whispered anxieties of two strangers caught in a web of their own making. But as flour dusted their hands and laughter filled the air, a fragile trust began to bloom, nurtured by the warmth of the oven and the shared rhythm of kneading dough. Whether their bond would withstand the weight of their pasts or whether truth would eventually break through the barrier of lies remained to be seen. But for now, in the quiet hum of the oven and the clink of mixing bowls, hope, like a perfectly risen loaf, began to take shape. The bakery, once shattered, stood poised to rise again, not just in its physical form but also in the hearts of those who found solace within its walls, strangers no more, but bakers bound by the universal language of flour, fire, and a second chance.