The evening air of Thundarr City hummed with neon lights and the murmur of high society as Faro Faros and Rita Faros stepped into La Lune Royale, the most prestigious restaurant in the downtown district. The chandeliers sparkled like fallen stars, and the scent of gourmet cuisine filled the space, mingling with the soft tunes of a live violinist.
Faro, dressed in a sharp black suit, pulled a chair for Rita, who wore a deep red silk dress that clung to her figure in all the right ways. As they settled at their private candlelit table, the waiter arrived with their order—a succulent grilled lobster in garlic sauce, served with golden-buttered asparagus and a fine bottle of cola from the Cal Cola brand.
Rita leaned in slightly, her green eyes gleaming mischievously. “You always take me to the best places, Faro,” she purred, twirling a piece of her dark hair between her fingers.
Faro smirked, cutting into his lobster. “Only the best for you, Aunty.” His voice was low, teasing, though there was always something deeper beneath his words.
They ate in peace, enjoying the indulgence of the meal and each other’s company—until the entrance of the restaurant swung open, and in walked Ronda Riy.
Faro’s stomach tensed as he saw his girlfriend—wearing her best blue dress, paired with her oversized round glasses—enter the restaurant. But what truly surprised him was who was by her side.
Cal Faros.
Dressed in a sharp white suit, the billionaire playboy led Ronda to a table not far from where Faro and Rita were seated.
Faro’s eyes flicked between them. Ronda was on a dinner date with Cal?
As the hostess guided them to their seats, Ronda’s gaze casually swept across the restaurant—until she froze.
Her round glasses magnified the shock in her eyes as she locked onto Faro and Rita sitting together at an intimate table, sharing a meal.
Faro stopped mid-chew. Rita, ever the confident woman, merely sipped her cola, feigning ignorance to the tension that had just erupted in the air.
Faro’s grip on his fork tightened. What the hell was Ronda doing here with Cal?
But before he could process it fully, Ronda’s gaze met his.
She froze.
Her eyes, magnified by her glasses, widened in shock as she saw Faro and Rita dining together at an intimate table, sharing a luxurious meal.
Cal followed her gaze and narrowed his eyes. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me…” he muttered.
Without hesitation, Ronda stormed toward them, her voice sharp yet hushed. “Faro… what the hell is this?”
Faro calmly set his fork down, locking eyes with her. “Dinner.”
Rita, ever the provocateur, casually sipped her cola before flashing a playful smile. “Would you like to join us, darling?”
Ronda ignored her, glaring at Faro. “You’re having a romantic dinner with your aunt?! Do you even realize how messed up this looks?”
Faro exhaled through his nose, keeping his composure. “Ronda, I don’t owe you an explanation for who I have dinner with.”
Ronda scoffed, folding her arms. “Seriously? You’re sitting here, in a fancy restaurant, with her”—she pointed at Rita—“having a cozy little meal, and you expect me to just ignore it?”
Cal finally stepped beside Ronda, crossing his arms. “Yeah, I gotta admit, Faro—this looks bad.” His tone was smug, but there was an edge of genuine disbelief.
Faro turned his gaze to Cal, then back to Ronda. And then, before she could press further, he hit her with:
“I could ask you the same thing, Ronda.”
Ronda blinked. “What?”
Faro’s voice was cold, controlled. “You’re here. With Cal. What are you doing on a date with him?”
Ronda’s lips parted, but no words came out.
Cal chuckled under his breath. “Oh, this just got interesting.”
Rita smirked, resting her chin on her hand as she watched the situation unfold like a spectator enjoying a drama.
Faro didn’t let up. His voice remained steady, but there was a sharpness to it now. “You’re making a scene about me having dinner with my aunt, but here you are—on a date with my cousin.”
Ronda swallowed hard. “It’s not—it’s not what you think.”
“Oh?” Faro tilted his head. “So explain it to me.”
Ronda shifted on her feet. “Cal just—he invited me out for dinner. It’s not a date.”
Cal smirked. “It kind of feels like one.”
Ronda shot him a glare before turning back to Faro. “I—I didn’t think it would be a big deal! It’s just dinner.”
Faro’s lips curled slightly. “Exactly. Just. Dinner.”
Ronda’s eyes flashed with realization—he was throwing her own accusation right back at her.
Silence hung between them.
Rita let out a soft chuckle before casually picking up her fork again. “Oh, Faro, I do love how you handle these things.”
Ronda clenched her fists, her breathing uneven. “This isn’t over,” she muttered.
She turned sharply, grabbing Cal’s arm and dragging him toward their table.
Cal, amused by the whole thing, grinned at Faro over his shoulder before following her.
Faro exhaled, his eyes darkening. He had questions—and Ronda had just given him a reason to start asking them.
Rita, unfazed, reached for her lobster again. “Well,” she said, biting into a tender piece, “that was fun.”
A Call to Duty and a Web of Lies.
As the tension between Faro and Ronda lingered in the air, a sudden vibration in Faro’s pocket interrupted his thoughts. His eyes flickered with urgency as he reached inside and pulled out the Falcon Ring.
The ancient power ring pulsed with a green glow, and within its shimmering light, an image formed—a vision of Thundarr Forest, where two villages, the Pigmen and the Boars, were locked in a violent dispute. Fires burned, voices screamed, and warriors from both sides clashed under the dense canopy of the ancient trees.
“Damn it,” Faro muttered under his breath. Duty called.
At the same moment, a sharp beeping sound came from inside Rita’s red ladies’ bag. Without hesitation, she pulled out her smart goggle and switched on its vision mode. Through its advanced Thundarr Database feed, the same chaotic scene of the warring villages flickered before her green eyes.
She shot a glance at Faro. “Looks like we’ve got work to do, Falcon.”
Faro nodded, sliding the ring back onto his finger. “Let’s go.”
Without another word, they both sprang from their chairs. Rita, despite her heels, moved with the agility of a trained warrior, keeping pace with Faro as they rushed out of the restaurant, leaving their half-eaten lobster behind.
Summoning the Dwarf.
As Faro and Rita burst out of La Lune Royale, the crisp night air of downtown Thundarr City hit them, but neither had time to care. The Falcon Ring pulsed urgently on Faro’s finger, and Rita’s smart goggle still displayed the chaotic scene unfolding in Thundarr Forest. They needed to get there—now.
Faro took a deep breath and raised his hand, clenching the Falcon Ring tightly.
“Dwarf! I summon you!”
A gust of emerald-green energy crackled in the air before them, and in a blink, a short, wrinkled figure with a long white beard and glowing yellow eyes appeared. The Dwarf, ancient and wise, peered up at Faro with his usual grumpy expression.
“You call, Falcon?” he muttered, adjusting his tiny cloak.
“We need to get to Thundarr Forest. Right now.” Faro’s voice was firm.
The Dwarf grunted, rolling his eyes. “You heroes and your emergencies… fine.”
He extended his small, gnarled hand, and without hesitation, Faro gripped it firmly.
Rita, standing beside them, reached out and took Faro’s other hand, her green eyes glinting with determination.
“Do it,” she said.
The Dwarf nodded once, then slammed his free hand onto the ground. In an instant, a bright green flash engulfed them, the city vanishing into swirling energy—
And just like that, they were gone.
The Unpaid Bill.
As the doors of La Lune Royale swung shut behind them, a confused waiter in a crisp white uniform approached the now-empty table. He looked at the two abandoned plates and then turned his attention to the nearest high-profile guest—Cal Faros.
Clearing his throat, the waiter politely asked, “Excuse me, sir, seemed like you happen to know the two-person having the lobster dish sitting on that table – they left without settling their bill.”
Cal, still recovering from the dramatic confrontation, raised an eyebrow. “You think I’m paying for that? I’m not running a charity here.”
Before the waiter could respond, Ronda suddenly stood up, eyes darting around in panic.
“They went to my apartment after the date!” she blurted out.
Cal snapped his head toward her, confused. “What?”
Ronda grabbed his wrist. “They must’ve gone to Southbank Avenue! to my apartment! Cal, take me there—NOW!”
Cal sighed dramatically. “You’re really dragging me into this, huh?”
But the moment he saw the desperate determination in Ronda’s eyes, a sly grin crept onto his face.
“Alright then, Ronda. Let’s see what we find at your place.”
With that, they rushed out into the night, chasing after secrets that were already slipping through their fingers.
A Night of Doubt and Desire.
Ronda burst into her Southbank Avenue apartment, flipping on the lights as she rushed inside, her breath heavy with frustration. Empty.
No sign of Faro or Rita.
Cal strolled in behind her, casually shutting the door as he took in the small but cozy apartment. This is where he would meet his mother Rita when she is in town. He glanced around, hands in his pockets, before leaning against the wall with a knowing smirk.
Ronda ran a hand through her hair, her mind racing. “They must be in a motel somewhere. Maybe they knew I’d check here.”
Cal sighed and took a few slow steps toward her. “Ronda, you’re letting your imagination get the best of you.”
She turned to face him, crossing her arms defensively. “You saw them, Cal! Eating dinner like a couple on a date! Laughing, whispering to each other, sharing a damn lobster!”
Cal chuckled softly, his deep blue eyes locked onto hers. “So what? You’re really gonna drive yourself crazy over this? Look, I know my aunt. She loves messing with people—especially you. And Faro?” He shrugged. “He’s stubborn as hell. You push him, he’ll push back. That’s all this is.”
Ronda frowned, still unsettled, but his voice was smooth, reassuring. Cal stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
“You’re overthinking, Ronda.” His voice dropped to a low murmur. “Faro’s an idiot for making you doubt yourself. You’re worth more than that.”
Her breath hitched slightly as Cal’s fingertips lingered on her cheek. His touch was warm, inviting. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words never came—because suddenly, Cal kissed her.
A deep, slow, French kiss, his hands sliding gently around her waist, pulling her closer.
Ronda stiffened for half a second, her mind screaming at her—but then she melted into it.
She wasn’t thinking about Faro anymore.
A Night of Weakness.
As their lips remained locked, Cal’s hands explored Ronda’s waist, pulling her flush against him. The tension, the frustration, the jealousy—it all melted away in the heat of the moment.
Ronda’s breathing became uneven as Cal deepened the kiss, his fingers grazing the exposed skin of her lower back beneath her white tank top. She shouldn’t be doing this. Her mind screamed it, but her body refused to listen.
Cal smirked against her lips, sensing her hesitation. “Relax, Ronda…” he whispered, his voice smooth and inviting. “Let me take your mind off everything.”
She didn’t resist as he led her toward the main bedroom, their lips never parting. The dim glow from the city lights outside cast long shadows across the room as Cal pushed the door open and guided her inside.
The bed stood waiting.
And Ronda stopped thinking.
A Call of Guilt.
Just as Cal’s hands slid down Ronda’s back, pulling her closer toward the bed, a sharp, sudden ringtone shattered the heated moment.
Ronda’s phone.
She gasped softly, blinking as if waking from a trance. Cal exhaled in frustration, his grip on her loosening.
She hesitated, then glanced at the screen.
FARO CALLING…
Her heart skipped.
Cal arched an eyebrow, watching her reaction closely. “You gonna answer that?” His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it.
Ronda hesitated. Her thumb hovered over the screen.
She looked at Cal, then at the bed, then back at the glowing screen. Faro was calling her. Her Faro.
Guilt hit her like a cold wave.
A Moment of Clarity.
Ronda took a deep breath and swiped the screen, answering the call.
“Faro?” Her voice was a little shaky, still breathless from the moment she had just been in.
On the other end, Faro’s voice was steady but urgent.
“Ronda, listen—I had to leave the restaurant. There’s trouble in Thundarr Forest. Rita and I are here trying to stop a war between the Pigmen and Boar villages.”
Ronda blinked, her racing heart slowly calming. A war?
“Wait—what?” she asked, stepping away from Cal. “You’re in the forest?”
“Yeah,” Faro confirmed. “It’s a mess. I don’t know how long we’ll be here, but I didn’t want you to think I just ran off on you.”
Ronda closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. So that was it. He wasn’t at some motel with Rita. He wasn’t betraying her. He was being Falcon—doing what he always did.
Cal, still standing by the bed, watched her closely. He could see it in her face.
Doubt was fading.
The heat between them, the temptation, was slipping through his fingers.
“Ronda?” Faro’s voice pulled her back.
She swallowed, glancing at Cal one last time before turning away. “Be careful out there, okay?” she said softly.
Faro chuckled. “I always am. I’ll see you soon.”
The call ended.
Ronda stood there, phone still in hand, heart pounding for an entirely different reason now.
Cal smirked, running a hand through his hair. “Looks like the moment’s over, huh?”
Ronda turned to face him, guilt flashing in her eyes.
“I… I think you should go, Cal.”
Cal chuckled, grabbing his coat. “I figured.”
As he walked past her, he paused, leaning in just enough to whisper, “You’ll come back to this, Ronda. Maybe not tonight. But soon.”
And with that, he walked out.
Leaving Ronda alone in the apartment, staring at the phone, realizing just how close she had come to making a mistake she could never take back.
