Black Butler: The Lich's Compass

Chapter 1

Sebastian continued his search for Marisol, weaving through the corridors of the manor. As he approached the main hall, the sounds of clattering metal, frantic shouts, and the unmistakable crash of something heavy hitting the floor echoed through the house. He stopped in his tracks and sighed. The usual chaos.

Rounding the corner, Sebastian stepped into the kitchen and found exactly what he expected. Baldroy, Mey-Rin, and Finnian were in the middle of one of their characteristic disasters.

Baldroy was standing over the stove, his latest cooking experiment going up in a plume of smoke, a charred pan dangling from his hand. "I swear, it was just a second too long!" he shouted, coughing as the smoke thickened.

Mey-Rin, frantically trying to tidy up, accidentally knocked over a stack of plates, sending them crashing to the floor. "Oh no! I-I didn't mean to!" she cried, her face turning a deep red behind her thick glasses.

Meanwhile, Finnian was holding a broom, having swept up an enormous pile of flour that somehow managed to coat every surface in the kitchen. He stood there looking sheepish, a cloud of white powder dusting his hair and face. "I-I think I used too much..." he muttered.

In the midst of this chaos stood Marisol, calmly observing the scene with her arms crossed. She didn't seem alarmed, disappointed, or even annoyed. Instead, there was a curious glint in her indigo eyes, as if she were trying to make sense of the whirlwind of activity around her.

Sebastian stepped forward with his usual grace, suppressing a sigh. "Good morning, Miss Colón. I see you've found the heart of the manor's commotion."

Marisol turned to him and smiled, completely unfazed by the pandemonium. "Good morning, Sebastian. Yes, it appears I've walked in at a rather... lively moment. How often does this happen?" Her voice was calm, but there was an undeniable hint of curiosity.

"Far more often than one might expect," Sebastian replied smoothly, casting a side glance at the three bumbling servants. "In fact, it has become something of a daily ritual. They have a unique way of... expressing their enthusiasm for their work."

Baldroy, still fanning the smoke away from his face, gave a hearty laugh. "We get it right sometimes! Ain't that right, Sebastian?"

Mey-Rin hurried to clean up the broken plates, nodding furiously. "Aye! We do our best!"

Finnian, sweeping up the flour with renewed determination, grinned brightly. "Y-yeah! Just... not today, I guess."

Marisol tilted her head, amused. "It seems you all have quite the dynamic here. You must be very forgiving, Sebastian."

Sebastian raised a brow and smiled. "Forgiveness isn't the word I'd use, but they do have their... charms. In their own chaotic way."

Marisol chuckled softly and stepped closer to the stove, inspecting the scene without a trace of judgment. She reached out and lifted the burnt pan from Baldroy's hand, examining the charred remains of whatever he had been attempting to cook. "What was this meant to be?"

Baldroy scratched his head, looking sheepish. "Uh... breakfast."

Marisol chuckled again, this time with more warmth. "I see. Well, at least you were trying."

Sebastian, ever the perfectionist, stepped in to take control of the situation. "If you would allow me, Miss Colón, I can assure you a proper breakfast in just a few minutes." He gestured toward the door. "Shall we leave the kitchen to... recover?"

Marisol nodded with a smile. "Yes, I think that's a wise idea." She cast a final glance at the three servants, who were still in the process of cleaning up. "But don't worry. I'm sure you'll get it right next time."