A fire Auron raced through Novaria''s crowded streets, his green aura flaring wildly around him like a frightened animal''s fur standing on end. His head whipped back and forth as he pushed through the sea of people, darting between cars that honked angrily at his desperate flight. Every spike of terror made his powers surge out of control - green flames erupted from his hands without warning, catching the festival decorations hanging overhead. The banners blazed with an unnatural emerald glow that sent screaming civilians scattering in all directions. His panicked eyes finally landed on salvation - a maze of dark alleys threading between the old district''s buildings. He dove into the shadows, hoping to shake his pursuer in the urban labyrinth.


    Above the chaos, another Auron tracked his prey across the rooftops with predatory grace. Orange aura pulsed around his form as he used his signature energy tendrils - glowing threads of power that looked like living smoke - to swing and pull himself from building to building. Each movement flowed with practiced precision, like a spider traversing its web. With one final, powerful leap that seemed to defy gravity, he soared over the very alley where his quarry had vanished.


    The fire Auron slowed his pace, lungs burning as he tried to catch his breath. Exhaustion had carved deep lines in his face, making him look closer to forty than his actual mid-thirties. Just as relief started to creep in, a figure dropped from above with absolute silence, landing in a predatory crouch that spoke of years of training.


    Raw fear overwhelmed rational thought. The fire Auron''s hands came up instinctively, unleashing a barrage of emerald fireballs that transformed the narrow alley into a corridor of supernatural flame. Each blast radiated intense heat that turned the cool air suffocating, while the otherworldly green light painted writhing shadows on the weathered brick walls.


    His opponent moved through the deadly barrage with inhuman grace, each dodge flowing into the next like some lethal dance. His body twisted between the fireballs as if he could read their trajectories before they were even thrown. Though the flames passed near enough to make his clothes ripple in their wake, not a single blast found its mark. Then, in a coordinated flash of red and blue that seemed to materialize from nowhere, the fire Auron found himself sprawled on the ground, his head ringing from an impact he hadn''t even seen coming.


    "Finally caught you, rogue fire Auron," the orange-wreathed Auron declared, his voice carrying all the warmth of a midwinter night. As his orange glow got brighter, it showed his face clearly - he was young, not very tall, with long dark hair and a short beard that made him look older than he probably was. But what really grabbed your attention were his eyes - they glowed bright orange like burning coals as they stared down at the man on the ground.


    The fallen man''s hands started flickering with green fire again, heat rippling the air like waves over hot pavement. Before he could do anything, though, a thin beam of orange light shot past his head, hitting the ground behind him with a crack like a whip. The message couldn''t have been clearer - the next shot wouldn''t miss.


    His eyes went wide with recognition, fear making his voice shake. "You-You''re him, aren''t you?!" he stammered, trying to scramble backwards while still on the ground. "The Angel of Death!"


    The orange-eyed man''s face twitched slightly at the nickname. He took a step forward, shadows from his glowing aura dancing across the alley walls. "So, you''ve heard of me," he said, his voice low and controlled. "Then you know what happens if you choose to attack."


    "Hey, don''t tell him that, Angelo!" Red''s voice echoed in his mind, sounding excited like a kid who thinks they might miss out on a fight. "We might lose out on some action!"


    Blue cut in, his mental voice sounding like an exasperated parent, "I believe you''re missing the point, Red. As always."


    The man on the ground didn''t hear this internal argument. He pushed himself up to his knees, his voice cracking as he protested, "This...This isn''t right! You''re supposed to arrest people, not KILL them!"


    Angelo took another step forward, his orange aura flaring brighter and making the man flinch back. "You are now staring at the face of death," he said, his voice formal like he was reciting something he''d said many times before. "''If staring death in the face doesn''t change a man, nothing will.'' I''m offering you a choice - surrender, have a change of heart and reform your ways... or strike at me. But know this: if you choose to attack, you prove yourself beyond redemption."


    "Forget this dramatic nonsense," Red urged in Angelo''s mind, sounding like he could barely contain his excitement. "Just end him. You know he''s beyond saving."


    The man on the ground looked like he was having an internal fight of his own. His pride clearly stung from being lectured by someone younger than him, and for a moment, his hands clenched like he might actually attack. Angelo''s aura brightened in response, ready for anything. But when their eyes met, something in the man seemed to break. "I... I surrender," he whispered, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Just please... don''t kill me."


    His green aura flickered and went out like someone had blown out a candle.


    Angelo stepped forward carefully, letting his own aura fade along with the orange glow in his eyes, revealing their natural brown. His movements were slow and controlled as he put the handcuffs on, trying not to show how tired he felt. In his mind, this was a victory - the Angel of Death had scared another criminal straight without having to spill blood. These quiet wins meant the most to him.


    As the excitement wore off, the normal sounds of Novaria at night started filtering back in. The city was settling into its nighttime rhythm, all lit up like a jewel in Luminia''s crown. Modern skyscrapers towered overhead, their windows blazing with light, a strange contrast to the old-style buildings that told stories of the city''s long history.


    Festival lanterns hung on strings above the streets, swaying gently in the cool night breeze. These weren''t just decorations - they meant something important. They announced the coming New Light Festival, when Luminia celebrated breaking free from Infernia. The festival always brought mixed feelings to Novaria. While most people buzzed with excitement about the celebrations, there was also tension in the air, especially near the Infernian border where old hatred still burned hot.


    <hr>


    Angelo trudged home after dropping his prisoner at the police station, his boots scuffing against the sidewalk. Most people had gone to bed, but Novaria never really slept, especially with the festival coming up. Music thumped from nearby bars, and drunk laughter echoed down the streets as night owls stumbled between late-night spots without a care in the world.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "I still can''t believe you let this guy go. You''re getting soft, Angie," Red''s voice bounced around in Angelo''s head, dripping with mockery.


    Blue''s response came quick and sharp, like a teacher correcting a problem student: "In what universe does arresting a criminal count as ''letting him go''? Do enlighten us, Red."


    Angelo dragged his hand down his face, too exhausted to keep their argument in his head. "Would you two just drop it..." he muttered out loud, making a couple walking past give him odd looks.


    Red and Blue kept at it as Angelo climbed the creaky stairs to his apartment, his legs feeling heavier with each step. When he reached his floor, he stopped dead. Someone was leaning against his door - someone whose spiky yellowish-orange hair stuck straight up like it was reaching for the ceiling. The man''s brown fur-lined vest and blue shirt looked exactly like Angelo remembered, right down to that weird pendant he''d started wearing after joining the army.


    "Sleeser?" Angelo blinked hard, like his old teacher might be a tired hallucination.


    Sleeser pushed off from the door, his confident smile as familiar as ever. "From the look on your face, it''s as if you didn''t want to see me," he said, grinning wider. "I''m hurt. Can''t a guy visit his old student every now and then?" Though he was joking, concern flickered in his eyes like a candle flame.


    Angelo''s mouth opened and closed a few times before words came out. "No, no, nothing like that... It''s just, I thought you were still with the army in the eastern provinces."


    Sleeser''s face almost seem to twitch "Things stabilized quicker than anticipated at the eastern border. And so, here I am!" His casual tone didn''t match how carefully he was studying Angelo. "It''s been so long, I barely recognized you with that beard. If I hadn''t heard you talking out loud to your... companions, I might have mistaken you for a burglar." He winked, making Angelo look away like an embarrassed kid. "Though I must say, that beard makes you look like you''re trying too hard to be intimidating. It''s cute."


    "Ha ha," Red''s voice echoed mockingly through their shared mind.


    "Ha, ha," Angelo''s dry laugh mimicked Red''s as he pushed forward and unlocked the door "Hilarious." He finished as the two of them entered his apartment.


    The difference between Angelo''s tiny apartment and the glittering city outside felt like stepping into another world. Just a worn-out couch, a basic kitchen setup, and some old posters of famous Aurons peeling off the walls. Sleeser sprawled across the couch like he owned it, but his relaxed pose couldn''t hide how intensely he watched Angelo.


    "So, Angelo, you''ve been with the police for what? Two years now? In that... special program?" Sleeser asked, picking at a loose thread on the couch.


    Angelo leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed. "Why are you asking? It was your idea in the first place."


    "Is that right? Must have slipped my mind," Sleeser chuckled, though his eyes said he hadn''t forgotten anything. "And have you improved your skills since I last saw you?"


    Pride crept into Angelo''s voice as he stood a little straighter. "Of course. I''ve been working hard on my combat skills, aura control, and energy techniques. I even mastered that energy tendril thing you once mentioned."


    Sleeser''s eyebrows shot up so fast they nearly disappeared into his spiky hair. His smile could not hide his amusement "What? That thing? Really? No energy Auron bothers with that. It''s too weak for battle, not to mention difficult to master."


    "Well... I did it nonetheless," Angelo said, looking away as his shoulders tensed defensively.


    "Okay, okay, it is a little impressive, I won''t lie," Sleeser admitted, holding up his hands in surrender. "I guess you can grab a beer from afar now. Maybe I''ll consider mastering it myself."


    The playful moment passed as Sleeser''s face grew serious, like clouds covering the sun. "Your training wasn''t limited to just fancy skills though, right?"


    Angelo shifted his weight, suddenly finding the floor very interesting. "Of course..." Then his head snapped up like he''d just remembered something important. "Since you''re here, there''s actually something I''ve been wanting to ask about. It''s been on my mind for weeks now." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Just... don''t laugh at me for this, okay?"


    Sleeser straightened on the couch, his stern expression melting into curiosity. "What''s troubling you, kid? You know you can ask me anything."


    Unable to stay still, Angelo paced the cramped room, his boots scuffing against the floor. "It''s my aura - sometimes it just... burns out way faster than normal. And lately..." He paused by the window, sunlight casting shadows across his troubled face. "I''ve been getting nosebleeds when I use it. Not every time, but enough to worry me. They only happen when I''m channeling power. That can''t be normal, right?"


    "I was wondering when you''d bring this up," Sleeser said, his bright blue eyes following Angelo''s restless movement. "Tell me something - have you been pushing yourself past your limits lately?"


    Angelo raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I mean, maybe? I don''t really know what counts as ''too far'' anymore. Why - is that what''s causing this?"


    A knowing smile crossed Sleeser''s face. "Remember when I used to teach you about energy flow? That ocean metaphor I used?"


    "You mean the one with the pool and the pipe?" Angelo stopped pacing, recognition sparking in his eyes.


    "Exactly!" Sleeser nodded, warming to the topic.


    "Now that was an elegant metaphor," Blue commented in their shared mind, earning an exasperated groan from Red.


    Sleeser leaned forward intently. "Those limits aren''t just arbitrary rules, Angelo. Think about it - what would happen if you tried forcing too much water through that pipe? Or kept pouring water into a pool that''s already full?"


    Angelo''s brow furrowed as he worked through the implications. "I guess... the pipe would burst? And the pool would overflow?"


    "Precisely." Sleeser''s voice grew serious as he delivered the key lesson. "And when an Auron pushes past their natural limits like that, there''s always a price to pay. Want to guess what takes the damage?"


    Before Angelo could venture an answer, Sleeser finished grimly: "It''s your stamina that pays the toll. Every single time."


    A small smile tugged at Sleeser''s mouth as he stood up. Without warning, his blue eyes blazed orange and power exploded out of him like a miniature sun. The air got so thick with energy it felt like trying to breathe underwater.


    "Let me explain something fundamental about an Auron''s stamina," Sleeser said, his voice cutting through the light show. "Your stamina depletes steadily just maintaining your aura. Push past your limits, and your stamina drains faster. Push too hard..." His aura went crazy for a moment, like a fire catching then dying down "... And your body will pay the price." He finished with a heavy breath, like he''d just run up several flights of stairs.


    "But if the energy is unlimited—"


    "That''s the irony of being an Auron isn''t it," Sleeser cut in, leaning against the wall. "We have access to unlimited energy... but only for a limited time. And that time?" His aura winked out like someone had flipped a switch, his eyes fading back to blue. "That depends entirely on your stamina."


    "So that''s why..." Angelo sank onto the couch, everything finally clicking into place.


    As Sleeser finished his lecture about stamina, something emerged out of Angelo. Red smoke leaked out like a slow-moving fog, gathering and shaping itself until it solidified into what looked like a grayer copy of Angelo standing there in the cramped apartment.


    Red planted himself in front of Sleeser, his face shifting into a trouble-maker''s grin. "Well, well, well, if it isn''t our old teacher. What, you missed boring us to death with your lectures?"


    Sleeser just kept smiling, like a parent used to dealing with a difficult child. "Ah, Red, I see you haven''t lost your charm. I was wondering how long you could endure this. I have to say, waiting for the lesson to be over before coming out? Impressive."


    Red''s grin got sharper as he started pacing the small room like a caged animal. "Yeah, yeah, let''s cut to the chase, hm? What really brings you here?"


    The playful mood died as Sleeser pulled a crumpled newspaper from his pocket. His fingers smoothed it out carefully as he read: "''The Angel of Death: Hero or Vigilante?'' There''s an article describing a police officer taking a different approach with criminals. It doesn''t name you specifically, but I have to ask. Is this talking about you, Angelo?"