Human beings' temporary needs have always overshadowed their true ones. They carefully distracted their consciousness from the only real cause of their unhappiness: the lack of independent choice. This was a nearly perfected Masonic conspiracy. But the Masons were merely a handful of guides – beings who believed themselves to be the Messiah. And while one writer warned that "Annushka has already spilled the oil," the Guides used that oil as if it were olive oil. The semantic equivalent astounded the minds of the Higher Realm, let alone those of the human world.

Each Guide represented a set of specific emotions and desires – a subtle, higher force, a lifelong companion. A kind of energy cluster containing a certain program.

Formally, a person had a choice. They could take an alternative path and would even encounter alternative acquaintances and obstacles along the way. But in the end, the final constant remained unchanged. A constant value, known as fate among people and as protocol among the guides.

So, the coordinates on her watch indicated that the new patient was already at the "Sleeping Dolphin" clinic. It wasn’t a short drive, but Sophia’s stash of rock music kept her entertained. She always turned the volume up, popping chocolate after chocolate into her mouth. In the human world, they would have called her a sweet tooth, but in reality, Ephor had long studied their harmful habits, including the craving for food.

Stopping at a gas station, she noticed a boy about seven years old. He was staring at the vending machine filled with sweets, uncertainly tracing his finger across the glass from one candy bar to another.

“Need some change?” Sophia asked, approaching the boy.

“No, thank you—” he mumbled. “Mom gave me some money, but I can't choose. All the candy bars look so good.”

“Banana with chocolate seems pretty good,” she said, pointing to the middle of the shelf. “It's just sweet enough and has the right amount of syrup.”

"That’s what the advertisement claimed," she thought to herself.

“I like it too!” the boy exclaimed. “I think I'll choose that one.”

Two unhappy figures appeared near the vending machine.

“If you think about the essence of choice, our perceptions shape our desires. Every day, we have to analyze countless little things. And perhaps, in this very moment, we are drastically different from who we were just a minute ago. It feels like the day is packed with denial.” The twin girls, the same age as the boy, in light lace hooded capes, stared at Sophia with their red eyes.

Flavuses saw better in the dark and tried to hide from the light.

One of the girls pulled back her hood, revealing a face resembling a bat, with a snout instead of a nose, and shook her blonde hair, tied in braids, with hostility.

“What's your name?” Sophia asked the boy, trying to ignore his unfriendly companions.

“Lucas,” he mumbled, yawning.

“You know, Lucas, you don't have to spend so long choosing just one chocolate bar. You can grab the first one you see. Next time, you can try the one next to it. That way, you'll always have a variety of flavors,” the girl tried to encourage him.

“I don’t know, what if I don’t like it—”

“You'll end up like a product of the apricot after a worm gets into it – There's a fine line between "I want" and "I was convinced to want this,"” the blonde girl muttered.

“The road ahead isn't short, and all that will remain is your own reflection in the glass and reflection,” the second girl countered.

“Son, there you are,” an adult woman approached them. “Sorry, he’s already started gathering a line here. What are you stalling for, Lucas?”

“Oh, it’s fine, I’m not in a hurry,” Sophia replied.

“Mom, I don’t know which chocolate bar to choose. Help me.”

“You always have the same problems,” a middle-aged man in a perfectly pressed, starched white shirt rolled his dark blue eyes.

"Great. Just what I needed – Lombask here," Sophia thought, studying his chiseled Asian features.

He looked like a Japanese man with a tall, athletic build, broad shoulders, and muscular legs. But at a certain angle, his appearance was distorted, and the man with hair as black as oil resembled a crow.

“Son, I’m not rushing you, but we still have a long way to go. We need to make it before dark. You know how your dad dislikes driving at night.”

“Then help me out, Mom.”

“Why waste so much time?” Lombask said irritably, brushing his fingers through his hair and slicing through it with his sharp, long nails. “This boy can never make a quick, well-considered decision.”

“Alright, Lucas. How about we try this one this time?”

The woman pressed the button on the machine, and it spat out a candy bar in a plain wrapper with a crunch.