Chapitre 3: Prologue 3: A fateful meeting and Trip Home
Michael Scott stood in front of the large, reinforced glass door that separated him from Seras. His heart was racing, and his palms were slick with sweat. He had faced many things in his life: disgruntled employees, corporate overlords, and even the occasional fire drill. But nothing had prepared him for this moment. Behind that door was Seras—the most powerful being on the planet, and also, as he had just learned, his niece.
As the door slid open with a soft hiss, Michael took a deep breath and stepped into the room. The space was stark, with minimal furniture and cold, clinical lighting. In the center of the room sat Seras, her striking silvery-white hair cascading down her back, her stormy grey eyes watching him with an intensity that made him feel like she could see right through him.
"Uh... hi there!" Michael greeted, his voice a little too loud, his nerves getting the best of him. He forced a smile and approached her cautiously. "I'm Michael... Michael Scott. I guess that makes me your... well, your uncle."
Seras didn't respond immediately. She simply observed him, her expression neutral, though there was a hint of curiosity in her eyes.
Michael swallowed hard, trying to shake off his nerves. "So, uh... I know this is probably a little weird for you. It's definitely weird for me! But I thought I'd, you know, break the ice with a few jokes. They say laughter is the best medicine, right?"
He cleared his throat and launched into his best attempt. "Why did the scarecrow win an award? Because he was outstanding in his field!" He chuckled, glancing at Seras for any sign of a reaction.
Seras remained silent, her gaze steady, though the corner of her mouth twitched slightly.
Undeterred, Michael tried again. "Okay, okay, how about this one? What do you call fake spaghetti? An impasta!" He followed it up with his best Italian accent, "That's-a spicy meat-a-ball!"
This time, Seras's lips curved into a small, somewhat amused smirk. It wasn't much, but it was something.
Michael, encouraged by the slight reaction, decided to switch tactics. He dropped the goofy persona and allowed himself to speak from the heart. "You know, Seras... I've been thinking a lot about this whole situation. I mean, I barely knew your mom—my sister. We were never close because of the age gap, and I guess I always thought there'd be more time to get to know her... and you."
Seras's eyes softened slightly, her intense gaze relaxing as she listened.
"I feel... I feel terrible, to be honest," Michael continued, his voice quieting. "You're family, and I wasn't there for you. You should have been allowed to grow up like a normal kid, you know? But instead, you were taken away, trained to be this... this weapon, this killing machine. You should have had friends, played games, gone to school, and made silly mistakes like everyone else."
Seras's expression shifted, the cold detachment in her eyes melting away to reveal a glimmer of vulnerability.
Michael took a step closer, his voice filled with genuine regret. "You deserved to be a kid, Seras. To laugh, to cry, to make mistakes, and to learn from them. But instead, you were forced to be perfect, to carry this huge burden that no one should have to carry alone. And I'm sorry... I'm so sorry that I wasn't there to help you through it."
There was a long pause as Michael's words hung in the air, heavy with emotion.
"But," he said, a spark of determination lighting up his eyes, "I want to change that. I want to give you the chance at a life you never got to have. To take you out of this place, away from all this... isolation, and help you experience the world in a way you never could before."
Seras blinked, her eyes shimmering slightly with unshed tears. She had never heard anyone speak to her like this before, with such honesty and compassion.
Michael, sensing the moment needed a touch of lightness, added with a sheepish grin, "And, hey, if you come with me, I promise you'll get to hear a lot more of my amazing jokes. They're kind of a package deal."
Seras let out a soft, genuine laugh—her first in a very long time. It was a small sound, but to Michael, it was everything.
He hesitated for a moment before opening his arms, offering a hug. "What do you say, kiddo? Can we give this family thing a shot?"
For a moment, Seras looked at him, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she stood up and walked toward him. She wrapped her arms around Michael, hugging him as lightly as she could manage, her immense strength held back by an incredible amount of control.
Michael felt a wave of relief and warmth wash over him as he hugged her back. "That's my girl," he whispered.
As they broke the embrace, Seras nodded. "I'll go with you, Michael."
They spent the next hour talking, Michael guiding the conversation with his usual blend of humor and earnestness. Seras, now more comfortable, let her true personality come through—a playful, sarcastic demeanor that had been buried beneath years of isolation and discipline.
When Dwight eventually poked his head in to check on them, Seras looked at Michael with a mischievous grin. "So, is he my new dad too?"
Michael burst out laughing, the kind of laugh that came from deep within. "Oh man, Dwight! Did you hear that? She thinks you're her dad too!"
Dwight, slightly confused but always the diligent sidekick, responded, "Well, biologically, that would be impossible, but I suppose—"
Michael cut him off, still laughing. "No, Dwight, it's a joke! A really good one! She called us Gay"
Dwight starts to laugh as well. "Michael I thought we were supposed to cool it with the gay jokes after the whole Oscar thing."
After the laughter died down, Agent Harris returned, bringing with him a stack of government documents that Michael needed to sign to formalize the guardianship. Seras, no stranger to paperwork herself, sat beside Michael and helped guide him through the process, ensuring that he signed everything correctly. Seras was then given a stack of documents, which she processed at a speed that the other two couldn't even see, having read organized, and signed all the documents within half a second.
The two were dumbfounded for a second, they had watched the video and had listened to the story, but after talking to the young woman in front of them for some time it was hard to wrap both sides of the character in their mind together. On one side you have by far the most powerful creature on earth, someone who can create a new Grand Canyon with a flick or move at a speed so quick that it breaks the laws of physics, and on the other side you have a woman who likes jokes, pranks and just wants something to be interesting.
As Michael and Seras left the facility, the atmosphere within its stark, sterile walls began to shift. For the first time in years, the tension that had hung over the place like a dark cloud started to dissipate. The people who worked there—scientists, security personnel, and administrative staff—exchanged glances filled with barely concealed relief.
It wasn't that they disliked Seras, or that they harbored any ill will toward her. In fact, many of them had come to respect her, even sympathize with her situation. But the reality was that living and working alongside a being who could, with a mere flick of her wrist, annihilate entire countries, had taken its toll on everyone. The constant, gnawing awareness of her power had created an undercurrent of fear, and no one was immune to it.
Even the usually stoic security team seemed to be in unusually high spirits. The guards at the entrance, who had spent years monitoring Seras's every move with the utmost vigilance, exchanged nods of satisfaction as the gate closed behind her and Michael's car.
On the ride back to Scranton, the atmosphere in the car was light, with Michael and Dwight quickly falling into their usual banter, while Seras listened, amused by their dynamic.
"So, Seras," Michael began as he started the car, "I've got to warn you. The drive back might get a little... weird. Dwight here has some, uh, interesting opinions about the world."
Dwight, sitting in the passenger seat, puffed out his chest proudly. "Interesting? Michael, my opinions are based on facts and experience. Did you know that on this very stretch of road, there was a UFO sighting back in 1974? The government covered it up, of course, but I have the documents to prove it."
Michael rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his grin. "Oh, here we go. Seras, get ready for the Dwight Schrute Conspiracy Hour."
Seras smirked, looking at Dwight with curiosity, she could already tell that egging on Dwight would become one of her favorite past times. "Really, Dwight? UFOs?"
Dwight nodded solemnly. "Absolutely. The truth is out there, Seras. And you'll find that most people just aren't ready to accept it. But don't worry—I've got plenty of stories to keep you informed. Like the time I single-handedly saved a bus full of orphans from a rogue bear attack with nothing but a bag of beets and a stapler."
Michael laughed, shaking his head. "That's not how I remember it, Dwight. Weren't you the one who ran away screaming 'They are too much for me to handle right now' when you saw a group of raccoons on a camping trip?"
"That was a tactical retreat," Dwight replied defensively. "You don't just charge into a raccoon fight without knowing the odds. You have to be smart, and strategic. Like in chess."
"Or," Michael chimed in, "like in life. Speaking of which, Seras, have you ever played chess? Dwight here is convinced he's a grandmaster."
Seras chuckled. "I've played a few games. Maybe we could play sometime, Dwight?"
Dwight turned in his seat, giving her an approving nod. "I would be honored. But be warned, I've never lost a game. Except to Mose, but that was under... questionable circumstances."
The drive continued in a similar vein, with Michael and Dwight's back-and-forth banter providing Seras with a glimpse into the quirky, yet endearing, relationship between the two men. As they neared Dwight's farm, the conversation shifted to more mundane topics—Scranton's best pizza places, the merits of various office supplies, and the pros and cons of beets.
Finally, they pulled up to Schrute Farms, Dwight's family farm that was equal parts charming and eerie in the fading light. The old wooden sign creaked in the wind as they came to a stop.
"Home sweet home," Dwight announced as he unbuckled his seatbelt. He turned to Seras, giving her a nod of approval. "Seras, I expect you'll acclimate well to life in Scranton. If you ever need any survival tips—or if you're interested in learning more about beets—I'm your guy."
With that, Dwight stepped out of the car and headed toward his farmhouse, disappearing into the shadows as the front door creaked shut behind him.
As Michael pulled away from the farm and back onto the road, the car grew quiet for a moment. Then, Michael broke the silence with a contemplative sigh. "You know, Seras, you're going to like it in Scranton. It's a good place. A little quirky, maybe, but it's got character. And hey, I'm pretty sure you'll be the most interesting person in town, right behind Dwight that is."
They drove the rest of the way in comfortable silence, the familiar landmarks of Scranton slowly coming into view. When they finally reached Michael's condo, he parked the car and turned to Seras with a wide grin. "Well, here we are! Home sweet home, part two."
Michael led Seras up to his condo, fumbling with his keys before finally getting the door open. The condo was cozy, if not a bit cluttered, with a distinct "bachelor pad" vibe. The living room was decorated with a mix of framed movie posters, a few mismatched pieces of furniture, and what seemed to be an inordinate number of Dundie Awards proudly displayed on a shelf.
"So, what do you think?" Michael asked, spreading his arms wide. "Pretty sweet, huh?"
Seras looked around, taking in the quirky decor. "It's... nice. Cozy."
Michael beamed, clearly pleased with her approval. "Glad you like it! Now, how about we get some dinner? I'll cook for you. It'll be like our first family meal together."
Seras raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "You cook?"
"Of course!" Michael said confidently. "I'm great at it. I mean, how hard can it be to make some mac and cheese, right?"
A few minutes later, Seras watched from the kitchen counter as Michael attempted to make the mac and cheese. It didn't take long for things to go awry—water boiling over, cheese sauce that was more lumps than liquid, and Michael fumbling with a pot holder as he tried to salvage the dish.
"Uh, Michael?" Seras finally interjected, suppressing a laugh. "Maybe I should take over."
Michael, who had just dropped a spoon on the floor, looked up sheepishly. "Yeah... you know, that might be a good idea."
Seras stepped in, gently nudging Michael aside. With practiced ease, she took stock of the ingredients available and quickly set to work. Within minutes, she had a pot of water boiling perfectly, a smooth, creamy sauce simmering on the stove, and fresh pasta cooking.
Michael watched in awe as Seras effortlessly created a dish that smelled nothing short of divine. "Wow, Seras... you're amazing. I didn't know you could cook like that."
Seras smiled as she stirred the sauce. "Well, I've had a lot of time to practice. Cooking is one of the few things they let me do at the facility. It's... relaxing."
In no time at all, Seras had plated two servings of a rich, delicious pasta dish, garnished with a sprinkle of fresh herbs she'd found in Michael's pantry. She set the plates down on the small dining table and gestured for Michael to sit.
Michael took a bite and his eyes widened in surprise. "Seras, this is incredible! I mean, I was going for a classic, but this... this is like restaurant-quality stuff. We should open a place together! 'Scott and Seras'—we'd make a killing!"
Seras chuckled, sitting down across from him. "Maybe someday, Michael. But for now, let's just enjoy dinner."
They ate together, the conversation flowing easily as they talked about everything from Michael's time at Dunder Mifflin to Seras's thoughts on living in Scranton. Michael found himself genuinely enjoying her company, and Seras felt a sense of warmth and belonging that she hadn't known was possible.
After dinner, Michael showed Seras to her room—a quaint, cozy space that he had hastily prepared for her arrival. It was simple, with a small bed, a dresser, and a few decorations that Michael had thrown together in an attempt to make it feel welcoming.
Seras didn't know if it was because she was feeling emotional or thankful for the man for taking him in so she simply stated, "Thanks, Uncle Michael."
Michael quietly closed the door, stepping a few feet away before loudly yelling out "She called me Uncle, Seras thinks of me as her Uncle" and sprinting around the room.
Seras sat in bed for a few moments before realizing that she had gone an entire day without the boredom and monotony she was used to. Outside of the Arctic Incident, she couldn't remember a time she had felt like this.
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
ShartRighter
ShartRighter I think one or two more chapters before I can get into the fun and funny chapters I have planned. Just have to get prologue stuff out of the way
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
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