《The Divided Guardian - [Slow Burn Dark Fantasy]》


 Updates

    12/18/2024


    Auron Triune wasn''t as different as Trinity as I initially thought. And to be frank it didn''t grow on me. So there I was, trying to come up with a name I can get behind. Then it hit me, for the longest time I referred to Angelo as The Divided Guardian. In some early notes and other drafts of the blurb, and I always liked that phrasing for him. So I''m going with it. Hope it resonates well.


    12/17/2024


    I decided to change the novel''s name to "Auron Triune" From "Auron Trinity"


    Trinity has strong religious ties, and while I have no intention of


    dissing any religion, I also wish to avoid strong association.


    Triune means three in one, which perfectly describes Angelo, Red and Blue.


    Also the new name kinda rhymes so it got a nice ring to it lol


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.Anyways hope the change doesn''t have big drawbacks, and thanks for understanding.


    12/11/2024


    So after getting more feedback, on top of rewriting chapters to make them more


    accessible, I will start splitting older chapters so that chapters are around 2000 - 3000 words.


    Should make chapters less heavy in case someone''s reading at 1AM haha.


    12/08/2024


    Hey everyone, today there won''t be a new chapter, had to burn through all of my backlog


    for that writeathon. Expect a new chapter this Wednesday. We are reaching the the good stuff of volume 2.


    Stay tuned! Feel free to reach me out if you have any questions.


    11/28/2024


    After getting more feedback I decided rewriting all chapters,


    the dialogue seems fine to me but everything else will get simplified.


    I plan to rewrite the story so that its more accessible in terms of wording.


    Thank you for reading The Divided Guardian!


    S.O.A

 Characters Concept Art

    Here I''ll post concept art of characters that appeared in the story.


    It will be sorted by order of appearance and will be hidden under a spoiler tag.


    Chapter 0:


    Sleeser with aura off and on


    </a>


    Chapter 1:


    Angelo (Aura off/on), Red and Blue


    </a>


    Chapter 2:


    Chief RamirezThe story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    </a>


    Chapter 6:


    Albert Goldstein


    </a>


    Chapter 22:


    Force


    Chapter 23:


    Neiva


    </a>


    Chapter 26:


    Joe Sturm


    </a></a>


    Chapter 29:


    Sol Thron


    </a></a>

 0. The Divided Guardian

    Dust swirled around Angelo''s feet, just eight -years old, as he walked through the old lab. The building had been empty for seven years, and it showed - windows were broken, metal was rusted, and green moss covered the old equipment like a thick blanket. The afternoon sun peeked through the holes in the walls, creating patches of light in the darkness.


    Angelo ran his small hand along the crumbling wall as he walked, leaving finger trails in the dust. His brown eyes were red from crying as he looked in every corner and shadow, like he was searching for something important. Old papers crunched under his shoes, their words too faded to read anymore. Above him, plants had grown through cracks in the ceiling, hanging down like green curtains.


    He kicked at a piece of broken glass, sending it skittering across the floor. The sound echoed through the empty hallways, making the place feel even lonelier.


    "This place is depressing!" a voice suddenly spoke in his mind, full of wild energy. "Come on, let''s do something fun instead! I know exactly how to get back at those jerks from recess¡ª"


    Angelo stopped walking and pressed his hands against his ears, squeezing his eyes shut like he was trying to block out the voice. Fresh tears started rolling down his cheeks, leaving clean streaks in the dust on his face.


    "Don''t listen to him," another voice chimed in, trying to sound grown-up but still clearly a kid''s voice. "The other kids are only mean because you keep doing what he says. Just ignore them and¡ª"


    "You''re no fun!" the first voice shot back. "They pushed us down and laughed! We can''t just let them get away with it!"


    As the voices argued in his head, Angelo stumbled to the nearest wall and leaned his forehead against it. The wall felt cool and damp against his skin as his shoulders shook with quiet sobs.


    Behind him, a door creaked open.


    "There you are, Angelo," a gentle voice called out, making the arguing voices go quiet. "I had a feeling I''d find you here."


    Angelo quickly wiped his eyes with his sleeve and turned around. Sleeser was standing in the doorway, his spiky hair glowing orange in the sunset light. "Come on," he said, his voice kind but firm. "You''ve got more aura training to do. Can''t get stronger hiding in old ruins, now can you?"


    <hr>


    Angelo sat cross-legged in the grass behind the old lab, trying to meditate. After twenty minutes of sitting still, he couldn''t take it anymore. His eyes flew open and he scratched his head frantically, his legs bouncing against the ground like he was sitting on springs.


    "I can''t take this anymore!" He jumped up and down without even getting up, like a kid waiting in line for the bathroom. "I think I''m starting to prefer the pushups and sit-ups!"


    Sleeser leaned against a nearby tree, watching with a smile. "Now, now. The mental training is just as important as the physical training."


    "I hate this stupid training!" Angelo leaped to his feet and kicked a rock as hard as he could. It bounced across the clearing like a skipping stone. His face scrunched up like he''d tasted something sour. In his head, one voice egged him on to kick more rocks while the other tried to calm him down.


    Sleeser didn''t move from his tree, just watched calmly as Angelo stomped around. "I thought you wanted to be an Auron like me?"


    "I doooooo," Angelo dragged the word out like stretchy candy, letting his whole body droop forward dramatically. "But this is so boring! Why do I even need to do this?"


    Sleeser pushed off from the tree, his face getting serious. "Do you know what makes someone an Auron, Angelo?"


    Angelo stopped mid-stomp and shook his head, suddenly interested.


    Sleeser walked over and crouched down next to him. "All around us, there are invisible channels where energy flows, like rivers that we can''t see." He held out his hand, and orange light flickered around it like a gentle flame. "We call these ''energy connections.'' What makes Aurons special is that we can sense these channels and learn to draw energy from them."


    "Really?" Angelo''s eyes got huge, like dinner plates. Even the arguing voices in his head went quiet to listen.


    Sleeser picked up a stick and drew lines in the dirt as he explained. "Yes, but it''s not easy. That''s why we need both physical and mental training. Your body needs to be strong enough to handle the energy, and your mind needs to be focused enough to sense and control it. That''s what the meditation is for - learning to quiet your mind so you can feel these energy connections. Only then can you connect to the universe and draw from its infinite energy."The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Angelo kicked at the lines in the dirt, frowning. "I''ve seen you in action, Sleeser. I really don''t think its as infinite as you say."


    "Ah, good observation." Sleeser smiled and sat down properly. "Let me explain it this way. Have you ever seen the ocean?"


    Angelo shook his head, plopping down in the grass across from his teacher.


    "Well, imagine the biggest pool of water you can think of - so big it goes on forever. That''s like the universe''s energy - endless, infinite. Now, imagine you have a small swimming pool on a piece of land near the ocean, and you want to fill it with ocean water through a pipe."


    "Okay..." Angelo nodded slowly, drawing his own little pool in the dirt.


    "The ocean never runs out of water, right? But your pool can only hold so much. And the pipe can only move water so fast. That''s exactly how it works for Aurons. We have access to unlimited energy, but we can only control as much as our ''pool'' can hold, and we can only draw it as fast as our ''pipe'' allows."


    Sleeser created a ball of orange energy between his hands, about the size of a basketball. "This isn''t even a fraction of the energy that''s out there. But it''s what I can safely control right now. That''s why we train - to make our ''pool'' bigger and our ''pipe'' wider." He closed his hands and the light winked out.


    Angelo''s whole face lit up as it clicked. The voices in his head went completely quiet, like students absorbing a fascinating lesson. Then suddenly, he couldn''t contain his excitement anymore.


    "When I unlock my aura, I hope it''s silver!" He bounced up and down where he sat, making the grass flatten beneath him. "That would look so cool! Like a superhero!"


    "Anything but orange," one of the voices groaned in his head. "Look at Sleeser, he''s so boring! All proper and stuff. If we get orange, we might end up like that!"


    "I don''t think that''s how it works," the other voice chimed in. "Though silver would be nice..."


    Sleeser chuckled and ruffled Angelo''s hair. "The color isn''t something you can choose, you know. It''s just part of who you are."


    "Aww," Angelo''s whole body slumped for a second before he perked right back up. "Well, whatever color it is, I bet it''ll be awesome! Way cooler than orange!"


    "Hey!" Sleeser raised an eyebrow, trying to look stern but his mouth kept twitching into a smile. "What''s wrong with orange?"


    "Nothing!" Angelo said quickly, then he lowered his voice, "But silver would still be cooler."


    "Alright, alright," Sleeser laughed, standing up and brushing grass from his pants. "Less dreaming about colors, more meditation. You won''t unlock any aura at all if you don''t focus."


    This time when Angelo closed his eyes, he couldn''t help grinning as he imagined silver light sparkling all around him. The sun was getting low now, making the shadows of the trees stretch across their little clearing. Master and student sat quietly together, while behind them, the old lab loomed like a watchful guardian.


    Four years of training would follow - hundreds of afternoons like this one, filled with meditation, practice and growth. But no amount of preparation, no countless hours of training, could have readied them for what was coming.


    <hr>


    [Four Years Later]


    The setting sun painted the sky a violent crimson, its light catching on plumes of smoke that rose from burning homes. Bodies lay scattered across blood-stained streets, some still, others twitching. Aurons wreathed in ghostly auras clashed above the devastation, their powers turning the air itself into a battlefield. Each impact sent shockwaves through the town, shattering windows and crumbling walls.


    Sleeser''s fist connected with his opponent''s jaw in a savage dance of orange light and bruised flesh. The enemy Auron stumbled back, spitting blood. Without hesitation, Sleeser gathered his power, condensing it into a tight beam of pure energy that struck his opponent square in the chest. The force launched the man through the wall of a burning house, adding fresh screams of splintering wood to the symphony of destruction.


    "Sleeser!" The desperate cry cut through the chaos. He spun to find Tomas, one of the town''s elders, his face streaked with ash and terror. "Angelo - he''s escaped the shelter! The boy thinks he can help!"


    The words hit Sleeser like physical blows. His mind filled with images of his young student, barely twelve, trying to face these killers. "WHERE?" The question erupted from him with such force that his aura flared violently.


    Tomas''s trembling hand pointed toward the forest edge. "The outskirts - he ran that way!"


    Sleeser bolted without another word, his feet barely touching the ground as his aura propelled him forward. The sounds of battle grew distant, replaced by something that made his blood run colder - a woman''s terrified scream, piercing and desperate. Then came a child''s voice, high and frightened, followed by the guttural roar of a man in pain.


    He pushed himself faster, cold sweat running against his skin, muscles screaming. The trees loomed ahead, their shadows stretching like sharp fingers across blood-stained grass. Three figures came into view - one lying motionless on the ground.


    The scene that greeted him carved itself into his memory with brutal clarity. Angelo knelt in the dirt, his small frame trembling like a leaf in a storm. At his feet lay a man, face-down and motionless, an axe buried deep between his shoulder blades. The wooden handle jutted from his back like a grim marker, blood pooling dark and thick around the wound. Sleeser stumbled forward, bile rising in his throat as the details sharpened - Angelo''s hands and face were painted crimson, fresh blood stark against his pale skin.


    The boy''s head snapped up at Sleeser''s approach, and the look in those eyes stopped him cold. Gone was the quiet, determined child who''d trained with him all these years. In his place knelt something else - something broken and raw, forged in the crucible of necessity and violence.


    "I had to," Angelo whispered, his voice cracking. "He was going to... One of them told me..."

 1.1. The Angel of Death Rises

    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¡ª"


    "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?"

 1.2. The Angel of Death Rises

    The tension in Angelo''s small apartment felt heavy, almost suffocating. Sleeser pressed on and repeated himself "Is this article talking about you, Angelo? Are you this ''Angel of Death''?"


    In their shared thoughts Red''s voice echoed playfully "I get the feeling he already knows. No point in hiding it, Angie,"


    Angelo''s eyes went hard as steel, but he nodded without hesitation. "It is. I''m doing what needs to be done. I''m weeding out those who are beyond redemption."


    The words seemed to suck all the air out of the tiny apartment. Sleeser''s mind raced, but he kept his voice steady "How does one determine who is beyond redemption though?"


    "If staring death in the face doesn''t change a man... nothing will." Angelo''s answer shot back like a bullet.


    The color drained from Sleeser''s face. Those words - he''d said them himself, years ago. A memory hit him like a punch to the gut: little Angelo trembling, covered in blood, after that horrible day. He''d said those exact words, trying to comfort a scared kid who''d seen too much. But he never imagined they''d lead to this.


    For a moment, Sleeser could only stare at his former student, all his usual confidence gone like smoke in the wind.


    "What''s wrong teach?" Red leaned forward, his grin spreading wider, more sinister. "We''re just doing what you told us, like good students!" He chuckled as if he couldn''t say that with a straight face.


    "As if you ever cared for the academics." Blue sounded almost offended.


    "But this isn''t what I meant..." Sleeser whispered, barely loud enough to hear.


    "Couldn''t catch that?" Red extended his ear as if to magnify Sleeser''s voice, prompting Angelo''s disapproving gaze.


    Guilt pressed down on Sleeser like a physical weight, but he pushed it aside. He couldn''t deal with that right now. "I never meant for you to take it this far, Angelo. Not like this."


    Angelo stood like a statue, unmoved. "You said it yourself, Sleeser. But if I must repeat myself, fine. If the prospect of dying, isn''t enough to make someone change their ways. Nothing will. What''s the point of letting them go on? To wreak more havoc?"


    Sleeser looked away, running fingers through his spiky hair as frustration tied his chest in knots. "I said those words to help you make peace with a hard choice... not to lead you down this path."


    Silence filled the room like thick smoke. Sleeser pushed himself up from the chair and walked to the door, each step heavy as lead. His hand stayed on the doorknob as that old memory flashed again - that terrified little boy, shaking, his eyes huge with horror at what he''d had to do.


    The sigh that escaped Sleeser seemed to come from his very soul. "I''m sorry, Angelo. I thought I was helping you..."


    He let those words hang in the air for a moment. "Be careful. This isn''t the kind of strength I wanted for you. One day, you''ll understand what I mean."


    Then he was gone, leaving nothing but thick, heavy silence behind.


    As the door clicked shut, the apartment walls seemed to close in like a shrinking box. Angelo stood frozen, his old teacher''s words bouncing around in his head. For the first time since he''d become the Angel of Death, a tiny seed of doubt took root in his mind.


    He turned his focus inward, like looking into a dark room where he knew someone was waiting. "Blue," he called out, his voice cutting through the quiet like a knife. "You were awfully quiet during all of that. Why don''t you come out and share your opinion on the matter?"


    After a moment''s pause, blue smoke curled up from nowhere, twisting itself into another grayer copy of Angelo. Blue''s steady eyes met Angelo''s burning ones without flinching.Stolen novel; please report.


    "You''ve been silent this whole time," Angelo said, accusation creeping into his voice as he paced the room. "I want to hear what you think about all this."


    Blue stood perfectly still, calm as a frozen lake compared to Red''s wildfire energy. When he spoke, his words came out careful and measured, like someone weighing gold. "Angelo, I can''t tell you if what you''re doing is right or wrong. The world isn''t black and white. What some people think is right might be wrong to others and vice versa. Even if my opinion differed from yours, it wouldn''t matter. Who''s to say my opinion is right and who''s to say yours is wrong?"


    Angelo''s eyes flashed orange like warning lights. "Enough with your cryptic shit. What are you trying to say?"


    Red leaned against the wall, watching them argue like someone enjoying a good show. A trouble-maker''s grin spread across his face as his eyes bounced between them like he was watching a tennis match.


    Blue didn''t back down from Angelo''s glowing glare, instead his eyes lit up in kind - piercing blue "What I''m saying is, you must do what You believe is right. Every choice has its consequences. So choose the path whose consequences you can live with."


    Angelo stood there thinking for a moment, then his eyes faded back to normal. "Very well. In that case, I stand by my earlier convictions. If I let criminals who are beyond change go, one day they''ll just end up hurting people again. Then it''s on me. And that''s not something I''m willing to live with. If they call me the Angel of Death for that... so be it."


    As Blue''s form started breaking apart into smoke again, his last words hung in the air: "Just be aware, there will be times that put your convictions to the test."


    Angelo squeezed his eyes shut, his jaw set like iron. "I''m sure."


    Red''s laugh echoed off the walls as his form dissolved too. "You two are just overthinking things. Do what you believe is right, consequences be damned!"


    Then Angelo was alone in the quiet apartment, the weight of his choices pressing down on his shoulders like a heavy cloak. The Angel of Death had risen - but the real test of what that meant was just beginning.


    <hr>


    While Angelo was reaffirming his convictions, far away from Novaria''s busy streets, in the gleaming capital city of Luminia, something was shifting in the shadows, making them restless . A man stood in one of those fancy offices where powerful people make dangerous decisions. His shoes sank into thick carpets as he gripped a plain folder, trying not to show how nervous he felt. Behind him, huge windows showed the city sparkling below like scattered jewels.


    The only light came from a cigarette glowing in the darkness like a tiny red star. Its owner sat behind an expensive desk, smoke curling around her face like ghostly fingers. She had the kind of presence that made people stand straighter without being told. She didn''t speak, just waved one hand for the man to get on with it.


    He cleared his throat, papers rustling. "The monthly threat assessment, madam," he said, keeping his voice flat and professional. "We''ve identified several developments that warrant attention."


    She took a long drag from her cigarette, the ember brightening like a warning light. In the brief glow, her eyes looked ancient and knowing. She blew out a stream of smoke that danced between them like a living thing.


    "Our intelligence from the Infernian border is... concerning." He shifted his weight, papers crinkling in his grip. "Their military exercises have tripled, but what''s really troubling are these unmarked supply trucks moving around at night. And with the New Light Festival just weeks away..." He didn''t finish the thought. He didn''t have to.


    The cigarette made a soft tink as she tapped it against a crystal ashtray. "Continue."


    "Next, one of Them has started poking around our facilities." His shoulders tensed up like he was expecting a blow. "One of their stranger members. The reports say they''re not following their normal rules."


    She stabbed out her cigarette and lit another in one smooth motion. The lighter''s flame showed her face for a second - beautiful, but hard, like it had been carved from marble by years of making impossible choices.


    "Anything in Luminia?" she asked, smoke trailing from her lips.


    "There''s this... situation in Novaria." He licked his lips nervously. "They''ve got themselves a vigilante. Goes by the ''Angel of Death'' - he''s an Auron cop who gives criminals two options: surrender or death."


    Her hand froze halfway to her mouth, cigarette forgotten as smoke twisted up like a question mark. "How strong is he?"


    "That''s the thing, madam - he''s actually quite weak. Despite all the scary stories, our watchers say his power level is surprisingly low. He just handles regular street criminals, and even then, his energy output is... underwhelming."


    The silence that followed felt like the moment before lightning strikes. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft but sharp as a razor. "And yet you thought he was important enough to put in this report. Why?"


    "Because we found a... connection, madam." His voice dropped so low she had to lean forward to hear. "If he starts asking certain questions..."


    Her cigarette stopped moving toward the ashtray, hanging in the air like time itself had paused. "What connection?"


    Without a word, he pulled a thin file from his folder and placed it on her desk as if he was handling a bomb.

 2. Shadows From the Past

    Sleeser walked through Novaria''s nighttime streets, his shadow stretching long beneath the streetlights. He kept rubbing his temples, Angelo''s words from their earlier conversation giving him a headache. As he neared the police station, he watched officers trudging in and out through the heavy doors, their shoulders slumped after their long shifts.


    At the bottom of the station steps, Sleeser stopped and adjusted his vest, trying to settle his nerves. Each step up felt heavier than the last as he wondered how his once bright-eyed student had become such a controversial figure.


    Inside, the station buzzed with typical night shift activity. Officers shuffled papers at their desks while others nursed cups of coffee that did little to mask their exhaustion. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, making everyone look even more tired. At the front desk, a young receptionist glanced up from her computer screen, recognized him with a quick nod, and waved him through.


    The usual station noise faded as Sleeser approached Chief Ramirez''s office. He reached up and knocked twice on the wooden door, the sound echoing in the sudden quiet.


    "Come in," a gruff voice called from inside.


    Sleeser pushed open the door, wincing at its drawn-out creak. Chief Ramirez sat hunched over his desk, his gray hair messy like he''d been running his hands through it all day. His permanent frown deepened the wrinkles on his weathered face. Though case files covered every surface, each stack sat perfectly aligned, showing the method in the apparent chaos. A small TV mounted in the corner played silently, showing footage of Luminian soldiers patrolling the Infernian border while news updates about the upcoming New Light Festival scrolled beneath.


    Chief Ramirez set down the report he''d been reading and looked up. "Well?" His voice carried the weight of a long day. "How did it go? Were you able to talk some sense into our ''Angel of Death''?"


    Sleeser dropped into the chair across from the desk, the leather squeaking beneath him. He rubbed his face, shoulders slumping. "I''m afraid not, Chief. Angelo is... resolute in his convictions." Guilt flashed across his features as he spoke.


    The chief leaned back, his chair groaning in protest. His fingers drummed an anxious rhythm on his desk. "Damn it all. The boy''s become a vigilante, Sleeser. He''s offering criminals a choice between surrender and death. It''s not how we operate, and you know it."


    "Yes, you mentioned some of this on the phone." Sleeser''s hands fidgeted uncomfortably. "I... I fear I may have played a part in shaping his outlook. Can you give me more details about what''s been happening? How far has this gone?"


    The chief''s frown deepened as he stood up and paced behind his desk. "It''s worse than I initially told you. In the past month alone, Angelo has confronted over two dozen criminals. Most surrendered, thankfully, but three chose to fight. They didn''t survive the encounter."


    Sleeser''s eyes widened, his coffee forgotten. "Three deaths? That''s... more serious than I thought. I never intended for my teachings to lead to this."


    "It''s more than that." The chief paused his pacing to stare out his window at the city lights. "The criminals in this city are terrified. They''re calling him the ''Angel of Death.'' Some are turning themselves in before he can find them, which I suppose is a silver lining. But others are becoming more desperate, more violent. They''re scared, and scared criminals are unpredictable."


    Sleeser leaned forward, the chair creaking beneath him. "Has there been any civilian backlash?"


    Ramirez turned from the window, shadows crossing his face. "It''s mixed. Some see him as a hero, cleaning up the streets. Others are calling him a murderer with a badge. The media''s having a field day with it. Every day, there''s a new headline about the ''Angel of Death'' and whether he''s a savior or a menace."


    "And how is Angelo handling all this attention?" Sleeser asked, absently straightening the papers nearest him on the desk.


    The chief lowered himself back into his chair and dropped his voice. "That''s the most worrying part. He seems completely unfazed by it all. He''s convinced he''s doing the right thing, Sleeser. And given the laws protecting Aurons in the line of duty, there''s not much we can do to stop him."


    Sleeser nodded, his shoulders growing even heavier. "I''m afraid this situation is my fault, Chief. There''s a lot about Angelo''s past that you don''t know."


    The leather of the chief''s chair squeaked as he leaned forward, interest replacing some of his exhaustion. "Go on."


    Sleeser stood and walked to the window, gathering his thoughts. "Angelo grew up an orphan. His parents died when he was just an infant. But that''s not all." He turned back to face the chief. "For most of his childhood, Angelo heard voices in his head - Red and Blue, as he calls them now. It made him come across as... different. Isolated him from others."


    The chief''s eyebrows shot up. He set down the pen he''d been fidgeting with. "I had no idea they were once just voices. Though it explains a lot about his behavior." He leaned forward, his typical gruffness giving way to curiosity. "But these voices... they''re real now, aren''t they? I''ve seen them in action, felt their impact firsthand." He winced at his coffee mug. "Red, especially, seems to have a knack for causing trouble."


    A ghost of a smile flickered across Sleeser''s face before vanishing. He picked up a paperweight from the chief''s desk, turning it over in his hands. "Yes, they manifested physically when Angelo''s aura awakened."


    "What exactly are they, Sleeser?" The chief rested his elbows on his desk, fingers laced together. "Some kind of split personality made real? Or something else entirely?"Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    Sleeser set down the paperweight with a soft thunk. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "To be honest, Chief, I''m not entirely sure. I have a friend looking into it. But so far, we have more questions than answers. Though it has been a while since we last spoke."


    The chief sank back in his chair, processing this information. He picked up his cold coffee, grimaced at the taste, but drank anyway. "It couldn''t be the result of Angelo''s ability, could it? He isn''t evolved, after all."


    "No, it''s not that," Sleeser expression turned thoughtful. "Whatever this is, it''s something... different. Something we''ve never encountered before."


    "Anyways," Sleeser tried to set the conversation back on track, lifting a pen from the desk as if to examine it. "There''s something else you need to know about - something that happened when Angelo was 12."


    The chief settled back in his chair, waving his hand in a "go on" gesture. In the silence, the wall clock''s ticking seemed to grow louder, like a heartbeat in a quiet room.


    Sleeser''s fingers tightened around the pen as the memories surfaced. "Our town was attacked by Infernian mercenaries - soldiers for hire from across the border. It happened during the New Light Festival, when the streets were full of families celebrating." He set the pen down with trembling fingers. "Angelo saw someone in danger and tried to help. He ended up killing one of the attackers. When I found him..." Sleeser''s voice cracked. "He was just a child, Chief, shaking like a leaf and covered in blood."


    The chief''s tough-guy mask cracked, compassion softening his weathered features. But then his eyebrows drew together, like someone putting together puzzle pieces they didn''t want to see. "Hold on - you said this was during the New Light Festival? Which town?"


    Sleeser met the chief''s eyes steadily. "Ashford."


    The color drained from Ramirez''s face like water down a drain. He shifted in his chair as if it had suddenly become uncomfortable, his eyes darting to a drawer in his desk before snapping back to Sleeser. "Ashford..." The word came out like he was tasting something bitter. "I remember that mess. Nasty business." He drummed his fingers on his desk, clearly wrestling with something. "Sleeser... exactly how old is Angelo now?"


    "Eighteen," Sleeser watched the chief''s reaction carefully, like someone monitoring a pressure gauge.


    Ramirez sucked in a sharp breath. His already pale face went a shade whiter as he pressed his fingers against his temples. "This changes things, Sleeser. His methods are still wrong, but now I understand where they''re coming from." His voice took on an odd tone, like someone trying too hard to sound casual. "So just to be clear - Angelo is an eighteen-year-old orphan from Ashford?"


    Sleeser leaned forward, noting how the chief''s hands had started fidgeting with his papers. "That''s right. Is something wrong?"


    "No, no," Ramirez waved the question away, but his fingers kept shuffling the same stack of papers over and over. "Just... processing everything." He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders, his voice becoming deliberately neutral. "Well, Sleeser, you''re the one who suggested placing him here. What do we do about him now?"


    The weight of the question seemed to press down on the room like a physical thing. Sleeser got up and paced, his footsteps echoing in the tense silence. "We should limit his involvement - keep him as backup only, when regular officers are overwhelmed. Less exposure to violence might help." He stopped by the window, his reflection showing the guilt written across his face. "I never thought my teachings would lead him down this path. The responsibility for what he''s become... that''s on me."


    The chief''s chair creaked as some of the tension left his shoulders. "That could work. We can''t stop him completely, but we can try steering him in a better direction." He paused, choosing his next words carefully. "We owe him that much. And Sleeser? Don''t shoulder all the blame. Everyone makes mistakes - it''s how we fix them that matters."


    Ramirez pushed back from his desk and walked to the window, joining Sleeser in watching the nighttime activity below. City workers balanced on ladders, stringing festival lanterns across the streets. The lights from nearby buildings caught the colorful decorations, making them glow like jewels.


    "This Angelo situation has the worst timing," Ramirez muttered, his frown reflected in the glass. "Three weeks until the New Light Festival, and tensions with Infernia are at a breaking point."


    Sleeser turned from the window display, his expression grim. "The border situation is worse than people know, Chief."


    Ramirez spun to face him, surprise breaking through his careful mask. "You have inside information?"


    Sleeser nodded, lowering his voice like he was sharing secrets. "Infernia''s been unusually active lately. We''ve caught messages suggesting they might use the festival chaos as cover for something big."


    "Damn." Ramirez''s curse came out like a prayer. "I was afraid of that."


    "It''s not just random troublemakers anymore," Sleeser continued, moving back to his chair. "We think they''re planning something major during the celebrations."


    Ramirez collapsed into his seat like his strings had been cut. "And now we''ve got Angelo playing Angel of Death..."


    "Which makes everything ten times more complicated," Sleeser finished. "If he runs into an Infernian agent..."


    "It could be the match that lights the powder keg." Ramirez''s voice was heavy with worry. "We need to get this under control fast, Sleeser. Angelo''s actions are dangerous enough on their own, but with everything else..."


    Sleeser nodded, his shoulders drooping under the weight of it all. "You''re right, Chief. We can''t have a wildcard on the streets with what''s coming."


    "Exactly." Ramirez''s face hardened with determination. "We''ll put your plan in motion right away. Angelo only gets called in when absolutely necessary. We can''t risk him running into any Infernian agents during the festival."


    Outside the station, Sleeser paused on the steps, letting the cool night air clear his head. The city sprawled before him like a sea of lights, while above, festival workers continued their preparations, oblivious to the tensions building beneath the surface.


    His mind spun with worries as he started walking - how to pull Angelo back from the edge, what the chief''s strange reactions meant, and how to fix the mess his teachings had created. The coming days would test both his wisdom and his patience.


    Just as he turned the corner onto a quieter street, his phone vibrated in his pocket. The name on the screen made him stop dead - this wasn''t a call he''d expected, especially this late.


    "Commander?" His voice dropped to barely above a whisper.


    "Sleeser, where the hell are you?!" Static crackled through the speaker, but couldn''t hide the urgency in the commander''s voice.


    Sleeser''s mind raced for an excuse. "I was just-"


    "Get back here now!" The commander cut him off. "The situation''s critical. We need you - we need Sigma."


    Sleeser''s breath caught like he''d been punched. Those last words carried the weight of mountains.


    "Understood." His reply was barely audible. "On my way."


    Ending the call, he cast one last look at the police station. His worries about Angelo and the chief''s odd behavior would have to wait. Whatever was happening at the border sounded severe.


    With a heavy sigh, he started down the steps. The city lights blurred together as he picked up speed, his mind already shifting gears to face whatever crisis awaited. A distant siren wailed, reminding him of all the delicate balances he was leaving behind in Novaria.

 3. Buried Truth

    The police station felt like a ghost town. The halls that usually buzzed with activity now stretched empty and dark, like a school after everyone had gone home. An emergency across town had pulled away nearly every officer, leaving the massive building eerily quiet except for the buzz of fluorescent lights overhead. The harsh lighting cast weird shadows everywhere, making the empty desks look like strange islands in a sea of darkness.


    Angelo slumped at his workstation, clicking mindlessly through paperwork as his computer screen painted his face in an eerie blue glow. He kept hearing Chief Ramirez''s words replay in his head like a stuck record:


    <blockquote>


    "Stay here, Angelo. We need someone to man the station."


    </blockquote>


    The way the chief had said it, with that stern look that could make even the feared Angel of Death think twice about arguing, left no room for debate.


    Hours had crawled by like snails. Angelo fought to keep his eyes open as rain tapped against the windows, creating a rhythm that only made him sleepier. Red, looking exactly like Angelo but with a grayish tint, had materialized and now lay on the floor making exaggerated snow angel motions on the worn linoleum, his movements getting more dramatic by the minute. Meanwhile, Blue - another copy of Angelo but calmer and more proper - sat ramrod straight at the desk, organizing papers with the precision of a robot sorting mail.


    "This is absolute bullshit!" Red suddenly exploded, jumping to his feet and waving his arms at the rain-streaked windows. "We should be out there in the thick of it, showing those criminals what real justice looks like! Not rotting away in here pushing papers like some pathetic desk jockey!"


    Blue didn''t even glance up as he lined up another stack of papers with military precision. "Perhaps," he commented, his voice carrying its usual philosophical detachment as he aligned another stack with geometric precision. "But administrative duties are the foundation of effective law enforcement. Besides," he added with just a hint of reproach, "orders are orders."


    Angelo''s eyes drifted to the bulletin board, where a bright, colorful New Light Festival poster stood out like a sore thumb among the wanted posters and duty schedules. His face darkened as memories of Ashford flooded back, unwanted and sharp as knives. The happy decorations on the poster felt like they were mocking him, their cheerful celebration a sick joke compared to the bloodshed they''d once hidden.


    Blue watched Angelo''s face change while still shuffling papers. "Your discomfort with the festival persists," he observed quietly, his hands never pausing in their rhythmic organization of paperwork. "Though perhaps understandable, this rejection of celebration-"


    "Don''t play dumb," Angelo cut him off, his voice carrying an edge sharp enough to cut steel. "You know damn well why."


    "Indeed," Blue acknowledged, finally setting aside his current stack of papers. "However, I maintain that your correlation between celebration and catastrophe is fundamentally flawed."


    Angelo let out a laugh that had about as much humor as a funeral. "Really? Because nothing''s changed since then. Every single year brings new ''incidents.'' Maybe not Ashford-level massacres, but still. Yet people keep dancing and singing like ignorant sheep to the slaughter."


    "Consider this perspective," Blue offered, his measured tone a stark contrast to Angelo''s passion. "The moment citizens cease celebrating - that''s when terror truly triumphs. Hope and vigilance need not be mutually exclusive. One might argue they''re most powerful in combination."


    Red, who''d been unusually quiet during this exchange, suddenly sprang up like a jack-in-the-box. "That''s it! I can''t take another second of this philosophical crap!" His eyes gleamed with dangerous mischief as he edged toward the door like a kid planning trouble. "Time to show the chief exactly what I think of his ''orders''..."


    Angelo jumped up and blocked the exit, crossing his arms like a bouncer at a club. "What exactly are you plotting now, you insufferable hothead?"


    A grin spread across Red''s face that would''ve made the devil proud. "Remember last month''s little kitchen incident? The chief''s face when he took that first sip of ''coffee''?" He rubbed his hands together like a cartoon villain. "Time for a sequel!"


    "Absolutely not," Angelo''s voice carried the weight of command. "Be a good little... whatever you are, and behave. Our shift''s almost over anyway."


    Red''s laugh promised nothing but trouble. "Since when do I take orders from you?"


    Before Angelo could move, Red''s body dissolved like smoke in the wind. He streamed back into Angelo''s body only to shoot out again as a crimson mist, zooming down the hallway while his cackling echoed in their shared mind.


    "Oh no you don''t!" Angelo''s shout bounced off the walls as he chased after Red. His footsteps thundered through the empty station as he followed the trail of Red''s laughter down stairs and through dark corridors, always just a few steps behind the floating crimson cloud.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    "The kitchen''s not even that way!" Angelo yelled in frustration, which only made Red laugh harder.


    The chase ended behind the station, where Red floated triumphantly above a line of wet dumpsters like a victory flag. Cold rain pelted Angelo''s face as he glared up at his troublemaking copy.


    "Got you right where I wanted you, oh mighty Angel!" Red''s smoky form rippled like he was doing a victory dance.


    Angelo''s face scrunched in confusion. "What are you-"


    "Bye!" Red squeezed himself impossibly thin and slipped through a tiny crack in an upper window like air escaping a balloon.


    Horror dawned on Angelo''s face as he realized he''d been played like a fiddle. The whole chase had been a trick to get him as far from the kitchen as possible while leaving Red free to cause chaos. "RED, YOU BASTARD!" Orange light exploded around him as his aura activated. He spun on his heel and raced back toward the station entrance, his powers letting him move faster than humanly possible. But deep down, he knew he was already too late.


    Meanwhile, Red zoomed through the dark hallways like a kid who''d just pulled off the perfect prank, his smoky form practically dancing with satisfaction. He could hear Angelo''s angry footsteps getting closer with each second. As he looked for a shortcut, something caught his eye - a door with a frosted glass window, barely visible in the dim emergency lights.


    Red floated in front of a door, squinting at an old brass sign that read "ARCHIVES" like he''d just found buried treasure. Without hesitating, he slipped through the doorway like smoke through a keyhole. Inside, the room stretched deep into shadows, packed with rows of metal filing cabinets that reminded him of soldiers standing at attention. Everything was covered in dust so thick it looked like gray snow, and the air smelled like old books and secrets. Only a single dirty window let in light, making the dust dance like tiny stars.


    Red took solid form, his troublemaker''s grin looking extra wicked in the darkness. Those metal cabinets seemed to call to him, promising juicy secrets behind their rusted handles.


    "RED!" Angelo''s voice boomed in their shared mind like a mental megaphone. Blue jumped in right after, trying to sound calm but clearly worried: "Don''t you dare disturb those files!"


    Red responded by mentally sticking out his tongue, like a kid ignoring his parents. He looked around the pitch-black room, muttering, "Can''t see shit in this creepy tomb." His red aura lit up like a ghostly flashlight, throwing weird shadows everywhere that made the place look like something out of a horror movie. "Not great, but it''ll do."


    He started yanking open drawers like a kid ransacking a toy chest, sending dust flying everywhere in gray clouds. "Nope, boring, seen it, don''t care..." He tossed files around like confetti, getting more impatient by the second.


    "You''re going to get me fired!" Angelo''s panic echoed in their mind as they heard him running through the station''s confusing hallways, trying to find his way to the archives.


    Red snorted like he couldn''t care less, but then froze as something caught his eye. One folder looked older than the rest, its edges soft like worn paper money. "Hold up... Ashford? This is from..." His voice trailed off as he counted backwards, and for once, his usual cockiness vanished. "Eighteen years ago..."


    The folder felt heavy in his hands, like it was weighted down with dark secrets. Red''s normally steady fingers shook slightly as he opened it. His red aura grew brighter without him meaning to, lighting up the damning words like they were written in blood:


    "Laboratory explosion... two casualties confirmed... husband and wife..." Each word hit like a hammer to the chest. "Initial investigation indicates... deliberate sabotage... high probability of homicide..." His usually loud voice got quieter and quieter, until he was barely whispering. "No evidence linking specific individuals or groups, but foul play strongly suspected..."


    The door exploded open so hard the cabinets rattled. Angelo stormed in, orange light still flickering around him from his chase. His face had already gone white as a sheet from hearing Red read the report in their shared mind, but seeing the actual proof that his parents were murdered - that changed everything. His hands shook as he took the file from Red, who didn''t resist.


    Angelo''s eyes raced over the text while their combined red and orange auras made the room look like it was on fire. The air seemed to get colder as the truth sank in.


    Blue tried to be the voice of reason, though even he sounded shaken: "We must approach this rationally. This report alone doesn''t prove-"


    "IT PROVES THEY WERE MURDERED!" Angelo''s shout made dust rain from the shelves as his orange aura exploded outward, scattering papers everywhere like autumn leaves.


    Red''s face twisted from its usual mischief into pure rage. "We hunt them down," he growled, red energy crackling around his clenched fists like angry lightning. "Whatever it takes, whoever they are - they pay for this. All of them."


    Time seemed to slow down as Angelo stared at the report that shattered eighteen years of lies. When he finally spoke, his voice was cold as ice: "No one can know we found this. We investigate quietly, carefully..." His eyes met Red''s, both burning with the same fury. "And when we find them..."


    He didn''t finish, but he didn''t need to. In that dark archive lit by their angry red and orange light, they understood perfectly. The Angel of Death had just found something very personal to avenge.


    Blue turned back into smoke, automatically streaming back to Angelo through the empty halls like water finding its way home. Their shared mind buzzed with tension while Angelo and Red tore through more files like men possessed.


    "There has to be something else here," Angelo muttered through clenched teeth, yanking open another drawer so hard it almost came out. His orange light made the shadows dance crazily across the dusty cabinets. "They must have found more than this."


    "Whatever evidence exists wouldn''t be stored here," Blue''s thoughts cut in as his smoke form wound through the halls. "Archives are for paperwork, not physical evidence." His blue smoke finally reached them, melting back into Angelo like food coloring into water.


    "Maybe there are other reports hidden in here somewhere," Red said, suddenly serious as he dug through another stack of yellowed papers like a man searching for buried gold.


    Then Angelo''s radio crackled to life with a burst of static, the harsh sound cutting through their investigation like a knife - forcing them to put their search on hold, at least for now.

 4. The Angel of Death Strikes Again

    The radio''s crackle shattered the dusty silence of the archives, making Angelo jump. Through the static came a panicked voice: "The situation is getting out of hand! We need more reinforcements!" The dispatcher''s words tumbled out fast and afraid. "Another water Auron has emerged on the other side of the city, taking advantage of our forces being focused on the current incident."


    Angelo stood frozen, his parents'' murder file still clutched in his trembling hands. His orange aura flickered to life like a pilot light catching flame, casting weird shadows across the metal filing cabinets. "Let''s move," he said, his voice tight with barely controlled emotion.


    Rain drummed against Angelo''s face as he raced across Novaria''s rooftops. The city felt wrong tonight - where there should have been crowds and neon lights, there was only emptiness and the lonely wail of distant sirens. His feet barely touched each rain-slick surface before he launched himself forward again, moving like a stone skipping across water.


    The preparations for the New Light Festival made everything feel even stranger. Colorful paper lanterns hung in wet chains between buildings, swaying like ghost lights in the wind. Half-built stages and party tents dotted the parks below, their unfinished frames looking like abandoned playground equipment in the dark. The festive decorations only made the night''s chaos feel more unsettling, like finding party streamers at a funeral.


    As Angelo got closer to where the trouble was reported, Red and Blue emerged from his body. They looked like wisps of colored smoke, barely visible against the stormy sky - one blood-red, one deep blue. Without needing to speak, they split up to search, moving like fog pushed by the wind.


    Red spotted it first - streams of water shooting out from around a building''s corner, followed by people running and screaming. Through the broken window of a jewelry store, Angelo could see the water Auron at work. The criminal was taking advantage of the chaos to rob the place, festival banners reflecting in the shattered glass like twisted party lights.


    Red, always acting before thinking, didn''t wait for a plan. He streaked toward the criminal like a red comet, his smoky form almost invisible in the dark.


    "Red, wait!" Angelo''s thought-voice echoed in their shared mind, but it was too late. He and Blue raced to catch up, already knowing Red''s recklessness would cause trouble.


    Red materialized behind the water Auron like a shadow coming to life. His body became solid just long enough to charge and blast the criminal with pure energy, hitting him out of nowhere. The force sent the water Auron flying into the nearest wall hard enough to crack bricks. Festival posters rained down around him like confetti.


    "Ha! Too easy," Red''s laugh bounced off the wet buildings. "How do you like me now hahaha!"


    But his victory party didn''t last long. The water Auron pushed himself up, face twisted with rage. Stolen jewelry scattered around his feet, catching the light from nearby festival decorations as if they were fallen stars.


    "You little shit," the criminal spat, wiping blood from his lip. "You have any idea who you''re fucking with?"


    Red fired back with his own insults. The two of them traded curses back and forth like kids throwing punches on a playground, each trying to outdo the other with curses that would make the most hardened of criminals blush.


    Then something changed in the water Auron''s eyes - a look that spelled trouble. He raised his hands, and suddenly the rain around Red wasn''t just falling anymore. It changed, becoming tens of water jets, each one as thin as a pencil but moving faster than bullets. They shot through Red''s body from every direction at once.


    Red never stood a chance. His form popped like a balloon at a carnival, turning back into red smoke that rushed toward Angelo''s body on the roof, running home to safety.


    The water Auron tracked the retreating smoke up to where Angelo stood. Even through the darkness and rain, he could see Angelo clearly - orange light flickering around him like a flame in the wind, eyes burning through the darkness like hot coals. Behind him, a huge New Light Festival banner snapped in the wind like a war flag.


    The criminal''s face twitched with annoyance. He moved his hands in a quick motion, and suddenly he shot dozens of ice arrows that gleamed like glass knives in the festival lights.


    Angelo leapt above to avoid them. He jumped down to street level, landing light as a cat. Now they faced each other across the wet pavement, while puddles around them reflected festival colors like tiny mirrors.


    Angelo used his energy vision to look at the criminal''s energy - kind of like checking the fuel gauge on a car. The reading wasn''t accurate since Aurons didn''t store energy inside themselves like batteries, but it gave him a rough idea about their capabilities. This guy was strong, but not too strong. Angelo could take him.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Standing tall, Angelo stared the criminal down. "You are now staring at the face of death," his voice carried easily over the rain. "Change your heart and surrender, or attack and face the consequences."


    The water Auron laughed without any real humor. "Well, well, looks like the legends are true. The stuck-up, overly dramatic asshole known as the Angel of Death is real." His laughter grew louder, echoing off the buildings. "I honestly thought they were making it up to scare people off."


    Inside Angelo''s head, Red cursed. He was still recovering, like a battery needing to recharge after shorting out. Angelo''s eye twitched at the criminal''s mockery.


    "I advise you to take me seriously," Angelo''s voice went cold as ice. "You have two choices: surrender now or strike me."


    Blue''s calm voice floated through Angelo''s thoughts. "Come to think of it, what if they do neither? What if they don''t surrender but don''t attack us either? Do we attack them then? Will the laws protecting Aurons in the line of duty protect us if he is killed as a result? Hmm..."


    "Blue, this is really not the time," Angelo thought back, getting more irritated by the second.


    "WELL?" The water Auron''s shout bounced off the wet buildings. "What''s it gonna be? Come and get me, ANGEL OF DEATH!" He planted his feet wide, rainwater streaming down his face.


    Angelo took a step forward, his boots splashing in a puddle. Inside his head, Blue''s voice was like a teacher warning a student: "Angelo, calm down. If you attack first, we could be in legal trouble."


    Red, still smarting from getting popped like a balloon earlier, wasn''t having it. "Kill that son of a bitch! I want revenge!" His angry thoughts felt like a headache building behind Angelo''s eyes.


    Angelo pulled out his handcuffs, the metal catching the festival lights as he walked closer. Rain dripped from his hair as he called out, "If you don''t attack me, I''ll take it as a surrender." He tried to keep his voice steady despite Red and Blue arguing in his head like kids fighting over a toy.


    Red''s fury hit like a punch to the gut. "What are you talking about, you pussy! Don''t you have the balls to give this bastard what he deserves? He mocked us!"


    "That''s enough, Red." Blue''s calm cut through the rage like a cool breeze. "We both know you''re just embarrassed because he beat you."


    "Shut. The fuck. Up." Red''s thoughts burned hot as a furnace.


    Angelo got close enough to see the water droplets beading on the criminal''s jacket. "You''re under arrest¡ª"


    The water Auron''s face twisted with rage. "Under arrest? NOT ON YOUR LIFE!" he roared, charging forward with ice daggers gripped in his hands.


    Angelo jumped back smoothly, water dripping from his coat. "In that case, you have chosen death," he said, his voice turning hard and cold.


    Red''s voice surged with excitement in their shared mind. "Give him hell! Avenge me!"


    Through Angelo''s energy vision, Blue spotted the enemy shifting his stance. His warning cut through their thoughts: "Careful, Angelo. He''s going to try what he did to Red. Wait for my signal, then charge forward... Now!"


    Angelo burst forward just as streams of water shot past where he''d been standing. They smashed into the festival stage behind him, sending splinters flying and paper lanterns spinning through the air.


    "On my mark, move left just as you get close to him," Blue instructed. Angelo nodded slightly, keeping his eyes on his target.


    Angelo rushed straight at the water Auron, making it look real. At Blue''s signal, he dove left while Blue appeared on the right. The water Auron''s head snapped between them, thrown off by their split attack.


    Angelo and Blue unleashed a storm of energy blasts, orange and blue streaks hammering their enemy from both sides. Each blast alone wasn''t much, but together they started breaking through his defenses.


    The water Auron let out an angry roar. "Your circus tricks won''t save you, Angel!" His hands shot up, and the falling rain froze in place before spinning into a shield around him. The water twisted everything behind it out of shape.


    Angelo and Blue stopped firing, watching as a nasty grin spread across the water Auron''s face. His watery shield hardened to ice with a sharp crack. A thousand needle-sharp icicles hung in the air for a heartbeat, then shot outward in every direction.


    They dove for cover behind chunks of broken stage and wall. Ice shredded through the air around them, tearing into concrete and wood.


    "I''ll freeze the blood in your veins!" the water Auron snarled, catching Angelo''s reflection in a puddle. He formed a deadly ice spike behind Angelo faster than blinking.


    But Angelo had already started moving. Through Blue''s eyes across the street, he saw the attack coming. He twisted away as the ice spike smashed into concrete. At that exact moment, Blue''s blast caught the criminal in the back of the head, making him stumble.


    "What?!" The water Auron spun around, rage twisting his features. "How dare you, you fucking cockroach!"


    He started advancing on Blue, water writhing around his arms like serpents. Then a shout from above made him freeze.


    "ENERGY BOMB!"


    The criminal''s head snapped upward to see Angelo hanging from the wall by ropes of smoky orange energy, holding a blazing sphere above his head. The blast crashed down with earth-shaking force.


    The explosion rocked the whole street, setting off car alarms in every direction like a bunch of angry robots. When the dust settled, the water Auron lay in a smoking crater, his power flickering weakly around him.


    "H-HOW?" Blood trickled from his mouth as he stared up in shock.


    He tried to get up but collapsed like a puppet with cut strings, his glow fading to nothing. Blue turned back to smoke and zipped into Angelo''s body. Rain kept falling, washing away broken wood and torn festival banners.


    "Spare me..." the criminal''s voice shook, all his tough talk gone.


    Angelo looked down at him, cold as winter midnight. "You looked into death''s face, and your heart was unwavering. You are beyond redemption."


    "Wait! I... I can still¡ª" An orange beam cut straight through his heart, silencing him... forever.


    Angelo stood in the rain, his mind racing from today''s events, thinking about the file he''d found about his parents'' murder. This was just the start of a much bigger story. Around him, torn festival decorations fluttered like wounded birds, a reminder that under all Novaria''s celebrations, darkness was always waiting.

 5. Punishment

    Morning sunlight crept through thin curtains as dawn broke over the city of Novaria. The peaceful quiet shattered when the TV blasted to life, making Angelo jump straight up in bed. His heart pounded as he fought with his tangled blankets, trying to figure out what was happening.


    "What the¡ª" Angelo blinked the sleep from his eyes, his vision clearing just enough to spot Red standing by the TV. Red looked exactly like Angelo except slightly grayer, like a photo that had started to fade. A huge grin spread across his face as he watched Angelo struggle to wake up.


    "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!" Red laughed, clearly enjoying every second of Angelo''s confusion.


    Heat rushed through Angelo''s body as anger took over. An orange glow, like gentle flames, flickered to life around him as his powers responded to his emotions. "Red, you insufferable¡ª"


    "Both of you, be quiet," Blue''s steady voice cut in, stopping the argument cold. Blue emerged from Angelo''s body as wisps of blue smoke, like early morning fog, swirling near the TV before taking shape. His tone carried the patience of someone used to breaking up fights. "Listen."


    On screen, a news anchor sat at her desk, her face serious as she spoke to the camera. "...and in today''s top story, we return to the ongoing controversy surrounding the vigilante known as the ''Angel of Death''."


    Angelo''s anger vanished instantly. His whole body went still as he focused on the TV, hanging on every word. Even Red stopped fidgeting to pay attention.


    "The moniker first appeared six months ago," the anchor continued, speaking carefully and clearly, "when reports emerged of a police officer offering criminals an ultimatum: surrender or face death. Since then, public opinion has been sharply divided. Some hail the Angel of Death as a necessary force in our city''s fight against crime, while others condemn these actions as extrajudicial killings."


    The screen showed crowds of people holding signs - some supporting the Angel of Death, others condemning him. Charts flashed by showing how crime had dropped in the city, alongside numbers showing more deaths during arrests.


    "Last night, the Angel of Death struck again." The anchor''s voice grew heavier, like she carried bad news she didn''t want to share. "Vincent Morrow, a 32-year-old, a registered water Auron, was killed during an attempted robbery of a jewelry store. We go now to our field reporter, who''s speaking with Mr. Morrow''s girlfriend."


    The camera switched to show a young woman with red, swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Her hands shook as she spoke. "Vincent wasn''t a bad person," she insisted, her voice breaking. "He was rough around the edges, sure, but he had a good heart. He... he wanted to propose to me, but he couldn''t afford a ring. It broke his heart, made him feel like less of a man."


    "If that''s the case, why did he resort to crime?" The reporter asked from off-screen, his voice carrying a hint of doubt.


    The girlfriend''s face crumpled at the question. "He was desperate!" she cried, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. "But he didn''t hurt anyone during the robbery. He could have changed, could have made amends. But now... now that chance is gone forever." She covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed. The camera turned away, giving her privacy in her grief.


    As the news continued in the background, Blue changed from smoke into his solid form, becoming another grayer version of Angelo. Though his face stayed calm, his shoulders were tight with tension as he turned to Angelo. "This is one of those times your convictions will be tested, Angelo. How do you¡ª"


    The cold look on Angelo''s face made Blue stop mid-sentence. When Angelo spoke, his voice was as steady as stone. "So what?"


    Blue''s calm mask cracked for a moment, surprise clear on his face. "I... beg your pardon?"


    Angelo pushed himself out of bed and stretched, moving with the easy confidence of someone who hadn''t lost a minute of sleep over his actions. His bare feet made no sound as he walked to the small kitchen area. "Just because his girlfriend thought he could change doesn''t make it true," he said, reaching for the coffee pot like it was just another normal morning. The smell of fresh coffee filled the apartment as he poured himself a cup. "Vincent made his choice when he decided to rob that store. He chose to attack me rather than surrender. In my humble opinion, his actions speak louder than his girlfriend''s words."


    Red''s grin grew wider, his eyes bright with fierce approval. "That''s our Angelo! Cold as ice when it comes to criminals."


    Blue stood perfectly still, watching Angelo with sharp eyes that missed nothing. The room grew quiet except for the TV''s soft chatter and the gentle tap of Angelo''s coffee cup against the counter. Outside, the morning sun stretched shadows across the apartment''s worn floor, marking the start of a new day in Novaria ¨C though for Vincent Morrow, there would be no more mornings to come.


    As Angelo sipped his coffee, his phone buzzed in his pocket like an angry bee. One glance at the screen made his stomach drop - a message from the police station said Chief Ramirez wanted to see him right away.


    "Looks like the chief caught wind of your late-night adventure," Red smirked from his spot by the TV, clearly excited about the trouble brewing. His eyes sparkled with the same look kids get when watching someone else get called to the principal''s office.


    Blue took shape next to Angelo, worry clear on his face. "This doesn''t bode well, Angelo. The chief explicitly told you to stay at the station."


    Angelo''s jaw tightened as he remembered Ramirez''s order. Without a word, he put down his coffee and pulled on his police uniform, each movement sharp and quick. Red and Blue shared a worried look before dissolving into smoke and flowing back into Angelo''s body.


    The police station hummed with its usual morning buzz, but something felt off. As Angelo walked through the hallways, he could feel eyes following him. Officers whispered to each other as he passed, their voices a mix of awe and worry, like people discussing a storm on the horizon.


    When Angelo reached Chief Ramirez''s office, he stared at the frosted glass door for a long moment. It looked just like it did every other day, but now it felt as threatening as a storm cloud. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Angelo knocked.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    "Enter," Ramirez''s voice growled from inside, rough as gravel.


    Angelo stepped into the office and his heart sank. Chief Ramirez sat behind his desk, his face dark with anger like a thunderhead about to break. Newspapers covered his desk, their headlines screaming about the Angel of Death''s latest actions in bold black letters.


    "Sit down, Angelo," Ramirez ordered, his voice low and dangerous, like distant thunder.


    Angelo lowered himself into the chair, keeping his face blank as a clean slate.


    "What part of ''stay here at the station'' did you not understand?" Ramirez''s voice rose with each word, like a wave building strength. "I gave you a direct order, and you chose to disregard it completely!"


    "Sir, I¡ª" Angelo started, but Ramirez''s hand sliced through the air, cutting him off as sharp as a knife.


    "I don''t want to hear your excuses!" The chief''s roar filled the small office. "Do you have any idea what kind of mess you''ve created? The media is having a field day! We''ve got protesters outside the station right now!"


    Angelo sat silent, staring at a spot on the wall just past Ramirez''s shoulder, his body tense as a drawn bow.


    "And let''s not forget the fact that you killed a man last night," Ramirez continued, his words dripping with disappointment like bitter honey. "A man who, by all accounts, might have been redeemable. But you didn''t give him that chance, did you?"


    Inside Angelo''s mind, Red''s voice burned with anger. "Redeemable? What a load of crap! You did the right thing, Angelo. Don''t let this old fool tell you otherwise!"


    "Perhaps it''s wise to remain silent for now, Angelo," Blue''s steady voice echoed in their shared mind, calm as still water. "The chief seems beyond reason at the moment."


    On the outside, Angelo sat perfectly still, but his fingers dug into the chair''s arms so hard his knuckles went white. Tiny creases appeared in the worn leather beneath his grip.


    Ramirez leaned back in his big chair, studying Angelo like a judge about to pass sentence. When he spoke, his voice dropped to barely more than a whisper, somehow more frightening than his earlier shouts. "I''ve half a mind to kick you off the force entirely," he said. "But against my better judgment, I''m not going to do that."


    The chief''s words hung in the air like storm clouds before he continued: "Instead, you''re suspended for a week. No pay, no duties. Use this time to think long and hard about your actions and their consequences."


    Angelo''s eyes widened just a fraction, the only crack in his careful mask. "Yes, sir," he managed, the words coming out tight as a bowstring.


    "Now get out of my sight." Ramirez waved his hand like he was brushing away a fly. "And Angelo? If you pull something like this again, suspension will be the least of your worries."


    The walk out of the station felt like moving through thick mud. Every step seemed harder than the last as the weight of suspension pressed down on Angelo''s shoulders. His fellow officers watched him pass, their faces a mix of curiosity and judgment, like people watching a car crash they couldn''t look away from.


    The fresh morning air hit Angelo''s face as he pushed through the station doors. He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head, but his thoughts raced like spooked horses. A whole week stretched out before him - empty days he hadn''t planned for, hadn''t wanted. The sun beat down from high overhead now, harsh and bright on Novaria''s busy streets. Angelo let his feet carry him wherever they wanted, wandering through the city he''d promised to protect. Time slipped away like water as he tried to wrap his mind around his suspension and everything that had led to this moment.


    Back at the station, the day marched on, bringing trouble with every tick of the clock.


    Chief Ramirez''s office felt like a cave, dark and heavy with secrets. Heavy curtains blocked out the cheerful midday sun, leaving only his desk lamp to fight back the shadows. The warm glow made the room feel wrong somehow, like nighttime had come early just for this space.


    The chief sat at his big oak desk, worry lines carved deep in his weathered face. They seemed to get deeper with each passing minute as he stared at the papers spread before him. Though the station hummed with life outside his door, inside felt dead quiet except for the clock''s steady ticking.


    A sharp knock cracked through the silence. The chief looked up from his stack of reports like someone had shocked him.


    "Come in," he called, his voice rough as sandpaper.


    Officer Vivian slipped inside, her usual calm completely gone. Her hands shook as she spoke barely above a whisper: "Sir, I''m afraid I have some deeply troubling news to report."


    The chief''s whole body went tight as a spring. His eyes narrowed to slits. "Troubling news? Out with it, Vivian. What''s happened?"


    Vivian''s hands twisted together as she took a shaky breath. "It''s Officer Mike, sir. He... he''s been killed in action."


    The words hit Ramirez like a physical blow. All the color drained from his face as he stared at Vivian. "Mike? But that''s... I just spoke with him yesterday before his night patrol. How in the world...?" His voice trailed off as he struggled to make sense of it.


    After what felt like forever, he found his voice again, though it came out hoarse and raw: "Give me the details, Vivian. How did this happen? Where was he found?"


    "Sir, his body was discovered in an alley." Vivian''s voice cracked like thin ice. "I''m sorry to say, Chief, but... he was found inside a garbage container."


    Fury exploded across the chief''s face. His fist crashed down on his desk hard enough to make everything jump. "Those bastards! To treat one of our own with such disrespect!" He had to stop and take a deep breath, forcing himself back under control. "What was the condition of Mike''s body? Any clues about who did this?"


    Vivian swallowed hard before answering: "The coroner''s initial report shows multiple slash wounds, sir. But there''s something else - clear signs of injuries from high-voltage electrical discharge."


    One of the chief''s eyebrows shot up as curiosity pushed through his anger for a moment. "High voltage, you say? That''s odd, considering Mike himself was a Lightning Auron. What are the chances we''re dealing with another Lightning user?"


    "It''s certainly possible, sir," Vivian said thoughtfully. "Lightning is one of the more common aura types in general. It''s not outside the realm of possibility that we''re dealing with another Lightning Auron."


    The chief nodded, his mind clearly racing ahead. "Indeed. Now tell me, Vivian - has the press gotten wind of this yet?"


    "No, sir," Vivian shook her head quickly. "We''ve managed to keep it quiet so far. No statement has been released."


    "Good." The chief''s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "We need to keep it that way, at least for now. With the New Light Festival coming up, we can''t risk causing widespread panic. The people of Novaria need to feel safe, especially during this time."


    He pushed himself up and started pacing behind his desk. His shadow moved across the window like a dark ghost against the bright city beyond the blinds. "We''ll need to handle this very carefully, Vivian. I want you to put together a task force - our best people, but keep it quiet. Make sure they understand how sensitive this investigation is."


    Vivian straightened up like a soldier receiving orders. "Understood, sir. What about Officer Mike''s family? Should we tell them what happened?"


    For just a moment, real grief cracked through the chief''s tough exterior. "Yes, but not yet. Give me an hour to prepare what I''ll say. They deserve to hear this from me personally."


    As Vivian turned to leave, the chief called out one last time: "And Vivian? Keep an eye on Angelo. With his suspension in effect, he might try to stick his nose where it doesn''t belong. The last thing we need right now is the ''Angel of Death'' turning this tragedy into his personal crusade."


    Vivian nodded grimly and slipped out, closing the door with barely a sound. Chief Ramirez dropped back into his chair like a puppet with cut strings, the weight of everything pressing down on him like a mountain. As he stared at the case files scattered across his desk, he couldn''t shake the feeling that this was just the start of something much bigger and far more dangerous than any of them were ready for.

 6. Self Discovery

    The evening sun painted Novaria''s streets in shades of amber and gold, casting long shadows between the towering buildings. Angelo walked with his shoulders hunched and hands buried deep in his pockets, each step heavy with the weight of his recent suspension. Around him, the city pulsed with its usual energy - cars honking through rush hour traffic, neon signs flickering to life as dusk approached, people hurrying home from work. But Angelo barely registered any of it, lost in the storm of his own thoughts.


    Red''s voice cut through their shared consciousness like an irritated wasp: "A whole week of suspension? What are we supposed to do, twiddle our thumbs?"


    Blue''s response floated back with the calm precision of a chess master considering his next move: "Perhaps we could solve the mystery of our parents'' demise. I''m sure that won''t take more than an afternoon."


    "Can it, you overgrown blueberry," Red snapped back, his mental voice crackling with frustration. "No one asked for your two cents."


    "Oh? Were you soliciting Angelo''s opinion then?" Blue''s tone remained cool as mountain stream.


    "It was a rhetorical question, you insufferable know-it-all!" Red''s fury blazed through their shared mind like a bonfire.


    The internal bickering finally pushed Angelo past his breaking point. "For the love of- both of you, quiet!" The words burst from him before he could stop them, sharp and loud in the evening air. A young couple walking ahead turned to stare, their eyes wide with surprise at his apparent outburst at them.


    Heat rushed to Angelo''s face as he realized how he must look. "Sorry about that, I wasn''t... nevermind." Without waiting for their reaction, he channeled energy into his legs and leaped upward, orange light trailing behind him as he landed softly on a nearby rooftop. The cool breeze up here helped calm his embarrassment, though his cheeks still burned.


    "See what you''ve done?" he thought at his two other selves, annoyance coloring his mental voice. "You''ve made me look like a lunatic."


    From his elevated vantage point, the city stretched out before him like a painting coming to life. The setting sun caught on thousands of windows, turning skyscrapers into towers of flame. But the beauty was lost on Angelo as his mind churned with their predicament.


    "We don''t have any leads," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "We don''t know where to start..."


    Blue''s voice drifted through their shared consciousness like a professor offering guidance: "Perhaps a visit to the Professor''s research facility is in order. It''s been some time since our last energy donation. His wisdom, while not directly applicable to our situation, might provide a fresh perspective."


    "Oh joy, another thrilling adventure in Boringville. I can hardly contain my excitement," Red''s sarcasm dripped like acid through their mental link.


    "I mean, there are some complex machinery there to look at, that''s always fun." Angelo tried to sound encouraging, though he knew it was probably futile.


    "Sure, if you''re a hopeless nerd," Red scoffed, exactly as expected.


    Angelo''s patience stretched thin as old rubber. "Fine. Stay here and count pigeons for all I care. We''re going."


    "You know full well I''ll be dragged along for the ride!" Red''s protest carried all the indignation of a cat being forced into a bath.


    Blue''s calm voice cut through their squabbling like a knife through butter: "I''m afraid the decision''s been made, Red. We''re off to see the Professor."


    Orange energy rippled around Angelo''s form as he summoned his power. Tendrils of light, looking almost like living smoke, extended from his body to grasp nearby surfaces. Using these ethereal ropes, he began leaping from building to building, the city blurring beneath him like watercolors in the rain.


    The research complex rose before him like a mountain of glass and steel, its windows catching the last rays of sunlight. Even after countless visits, the sight of such advanced technology made Angelo''s breath catch. Sleek curves and gleaming surfaces spoke of discoveries yet to come.


    An assistant recognized him immediately, her professional smile warming with familiarity as she gestured him through. The corridors felt almost sacred, walls lined with the physical proof of scientific achievement - diplomas in heavy frames, newspaper clippings celebrating breakthroughs, awards whose gold surfaces had dulled with age. Each bore the name "Albert Goldstein" like a signature on history itself.


    The journey ended at a set of imposing doors that whispered open at their approach. Inside, Angelo found Albert hunched over an array of equipment that looked more like abstract sculpture than scientific instruments. The old scientist''s gray-white hair, still holding traces of its original brown, fell past his shoulders as he worked. When he turned, light caught his square glasses in a flash that momentarily hid his eyes.


    "Angelo, my boy!" Albert''s face lit up with genuine surprise, making the wrinkles around his eyes deepen like laugh lines. "What an unexpected pleasure. It''s rare to see you here of your own volition."


    Angelo shifted his weight from foot to foot, suddenly feeling like a schoolboy called to the principal''s office. "Well, we thought it might be time for another energy donation. For your research, of course," he offered, trying to sound casual but hearing the awkwardness in his own voice.


    Albert''s eyes sparked with interest behind his lenses as he studied Angelo''s face. "Indeed? And I suppose there''s no other motive behind this sudden burst of scientific pursuit?"


    Before Angelo could fumble for a response, Blue materialized beside him in a swirl of azure energy. His form solidified as he bowed slightly, the perfect picture of respect. "Professor, it''s a pleasure to see you again."


    Red''s mocking voice echoed through their shared mind like a bratty kid in an empty hall: "Oh, Professor, it''s such an honor, please bestow upon us your vast knowledge!" The taunt made Blue''s perfectly composed face twitch almost imperceptibly.


    Albert''s weathered features brightened further at Blue''s appearance. "Ah, Blue! Always a delight. But where''s your more... colorful counterpart?"


    Angelo rubbed the back of his neck, discomfort clear in the gesture. "Red''s... indisposed. Still nursing his wounded pride from a recent defeat, I suspect."


    As if summoned by the challenge in those words, crimson energy erupted beside them. It coalesced into Red''s form, his eyes blazing like hot coals as he materialized. "I am not!" he snarled, the words bouncing off the sterile lab walls.


    Albert''s smile grew warmer, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses like he was sharing a private joke. "Ah, there you are, Red. I was beginning to think you''d lost your fighting spirit."


    Red spun away with theatrical disgust, though the effect was somewhat ruined by how he kept glancing back to make sure they were watching. "Yeah, yeah, good to see you too, old man. Don''t get all mushy on me now."


    Albert watched Red''s dramatic display with the patient amusement of someone used to dealing with difficult students. His keen eyes studied Red''s unusually agitated movements, noting how the crimson energy around him flickered like an unstable flame. After a moment''s consideration, excitement crept into his voice.


    "It seems our fiery friend is in quite the mood today. Perhaps... yes, I think it''s finally time I shared something with you all."


    Angelo and Blue exchanged puzzled glances, curiosity sparking between them like static electricity. "Shared what, exactly?" Angelo asked, unconsciously leaning forward.


    Blue stepped closer, his usual analytical tone colored by genuine interest. "You''ve piqued our interest, Professor. What revelations have you been keeping from us?"


    Albert''s eyes lit up with the enthusiasm of someone about to share a favorite story. "Oh, nothing too earth-shattering," he said, though his barely contained excitement suggested otherwise. "Just the results of my research into your unique energies, and a little theory I''ve cooked up. It might shed some light on Red''s recent... shall we say, difficulties."


    Red''s reaction was immediate and explosive. His crimson aura flared around him like a angry bonfire, his aura seemed to vibrate with indignation. "Oh, joy. Another lecture. Just what I needed to brighten my day. Thanks, but I''ll pass."Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    Without warning, Red''s physical form dissolved into swirling crimson smoke, like a red fog caught in an invisible wind. The cloud spiraled around Angelo once before vanishing into his body, leaving only a faint red glow that quickly faded.


    Blue stepped forward smoothly, as if trying to cover an awkward moment at a dinner party. "Please, don''t mind Red, Professor. His manners seem to have retreated along with his form. We would be most interested in hearing your findings."


    Albert nodded, settling into his chair like a storyteller preparing for a tale. His expression grew serious as he began to explain. "Well, my boys, it all began when Sleeser introduced us. Do you recall that day?" His eyes grew distant with memory.


    "You might be surprised to learn that it was Sleeser who reached out to me initially. It was shortly after Red and Blue first emerged from Angelo. That old dog, he suspected there was more to your condition than met the eye. Being an energy Auron himself, he could sense something... extraordinary about your situation."


    Angelo''s eyes widened like dinner plates, his usual composure cracking. "Wait, what? Sleeser initiated this? But I always thought... I mean, I remember him being there when we first met, when you said you wanted to study our condition, but..."


    Albert''s lips curved in a knowing smile. "Yes, I''m not surprised he never mentioned it. Sleeser always did prefer to work behind the scenes. I suppose he didn''t think it was important enough to bring up."


    The old scientist straightened in his chair, his voice taking on the familiar rhythm of a favorite lecture. Excitement bubbled just beneath his words like carbonation in a shaken soda. "After that fateful meeting, you three began donating your energies for my research. And let me tell you, it was no simple task. Measuring and studying the different properties of the energy produced by each of you, comparing them to Sleeser''s energy as a control... it was like trying to solve a puzzle where the pieces kept changing shape!"


    Angelo leaned forward in his chair, his eyes fixed on Albert with the intensity of someone trying to piece together a mystery. "And what did you discover, Albert? What secrets did our energies reveal?"


    Albert''s eyes sparkled behind his glasses like a child about to share a treasured secret. "Oh, my dear boy, you have no idea how extraordinary you truly are. To understand this, we must first grasp the nature of pure energy."


    From within Angelo''s consciousness, Red''s voice groaned like a student hearing there would be homework: "Here we go again. Wake me when it''s over."


    Blue, ever eager to demonstrate his knowledge, jumped in. "Pure energy is what we energy Aurons produce, correct? Unlike elemental energies, ours lacks specific properties."


    Albert nodded, but his raised finger suggested a correction coming. "An astute observation, Blue, but not quite accurate. Let me clarify," he said, leaning forward in his chair. The movement made his lab coat rustle like paper in a breeze.


    "Pure energy, in its truest form, doesn''t exist as a physical manifestation at all. It''s a concept, a potential, constantly shifting and transforming. What energy Aurons produce is something quite extraordinary - they give physical form to something that, by its very nature, shouldn''t have one."


    He paused, letting his words sink in like rain into dry earth before continuing. "In essence, they create a physical analogue of pure energy. It''s not pure energy itself, but rather the closest thing to it that can exist in our physical world. This is what makes energy Aurons so unique and, frankly, fascinating from a scientific perspective."


    Angelo''s forehead wrinkled in concentration, like someone trying to read fine print. "Okay, so how does this relate to our... unique situation?"


    Albert''s voice dropped to an almost reverent tone, like a priest about to reveal sacred knowledge. "After extensive study, I''ve developed a new theory: ''The Components of Pure Energy.'' It posits that pure energy itself consists of three distinct components."


    Blue''s eyes lit up like stars, his analytical mind clearly racing ahead. "Interesting. And you believe this explains our condition?"


    Albert''s hands moved excitedly as he explained, painting invisible pictures in the air. "Precisely. Imagine an object, any object really, say a boulder. Now, if we could split the energy composing that boulder into its three components-"


    "-we''d create three identical replicas of the original boulder, each composed of a different energy type, yet all fundamentally the same matter. Fascinating!" Blue finished, his usual calm briefly cracking with enthusiasm.


    Albert beamed like a proud teacher whose student just solved a difficult problem. "Exactly, Blue! You''ve got it!"


    Angelo, however, looked like someone trying to read a map in another language. His brow furrowed deeper as he admitted, "I... I''m not sure I follow. How does a rock splitting relate to us?"


    Albert''s expression softened with understanding. He adjusted his glasses and tried a different approach. "Ah, I see. Perhaps another analogy might help. Angelo, think of pure energy like white light. When white light passes through a prism, it splits into a spectrum of colors."


    Albert''s hands moved through the air like he was conducting an invisible orchestra, mimicking the way light splits apart. "In the case of our boulder, instead of a range of colors, we get three distinct... let''s call them ''shades'' of energy. Just as each color in the spectrum is still light but with its own unique properties, each component of your energy is still fundamentally energy, but with distinct characteristics."


    Understanding dawned on Angelo''s face like the sun breaking through clouds. "Oh! So, Red, Blue, and I are like... different colors of the same light?"


    Albert nodded enthusiastically, his long hair swaying with the motion. "In a manner of speaking, yes. You''re all composed of the same fundamental energy, but each of you represents a distinct component of that energy. These components have different properties and behaviors, but they''re all integral parts of what was originally one unified energy."


    Blue materialized fully now, moving closer to the professor''s desk with measured steps. "So, to combine the metaphors, we''re like three boulders made of different types of energy, yet all originating from the same source?"


    "An excellent synthesis, Blue," Albert praised, his weathered hands spreading across his desk. "That''s precisely it. These energy types aren''t just expressed differently - they''re fundamentally distinct, yet intrinsically linked parts of a whole."


    Angelo sank back in his chair, the leather creaking beneath him as the implications hit home. "That''s... a lot to take in. But why? How did this happen to us, Albert?"


    The old scientist''s face fell like a shadow passing over the sun. "That... I do not know. As far as I''m aware, these components don''t exist naturally."


    Blue stepped forward, amused curiosity etched in his expression. "And these energies, the three components, are they different in any way? This could explain why Red is so... well, Red."


    From within Angelo''s consciousness, Red''s voice snarled like an angry cat: "Fuck off."


    Albert pushed himself up from his desk, moving to stand before a complex array of equipment that hummed softly in the background. His voice carried the quiet excitement of someone sharing a long-studied secret. "My extensive testing and calculations have led me to a fascinating conclusion. The composition of pure energy is far from uniform. When split, these energies exhibit a remarkable property - they actually repel each other."


    He turned back to face them, his glasses catching the lab''s fluorescent lights. "These findings are key to understanding your unique condition. Based on these properties, I''ve classified the energies into three distinct types:"


    Albert raised a finger, counting off each point like items on a checklist. "First, we have Neutral energy. This comprises 50% of pure energy and forms the core of your being, Angelo. It''s why you are, for lack of a better term, the ''main body''."


    A second finger joined the first. "Next, there''s Negative energy, making up 25% of the total. This, Red, is the essence of your existence."


    The third finger completed the count. "And lastly, Positive energy, also 25% of the whole. Blue, this is what constitutes your form."


    Angelo leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he processed this information. A hint of amusement crept into his voice as a thought struck him. "Wait," he said, lips twitching. "Is Red''s energy negative because he''s... well, Red?"


    The question hung in the air for a heartbeat before Red''s indignant voice exploded through their shared consciousness: "Ha, ha, really funny, Angelo. Fuck you too."


    Albert chuckled, the sound warm and rich in the sterile lab. "No, no. The names imply the level of repulsion. Neutral repels Negative and Positive energies equally. However, in my testing, Red''s negative energy and Blue''s positive energy showed a much higher level of repulsion."


    Blue stepped closer to the professor''s desk. "Professor, if I may... Does this theory explain our physical limitations compared to other Aurons?"


    The question fell like a stone into still water. Angelo''s shoulders tensed visibly, and even Red''s presence within their shared mind seemed to recoil. Old memories flickered through their collective consciousness - playground taunts, failed training sessions, the constant struggle to keep up with their peers.


    Albert''s voice gentled, like someone breaking difficult news. "Indeed it does, Blue. My tests show that Angelo''s energy output is roughly 50% of what it should be, compared to a normal energy Auron like Sleeser. This deficiency extends to physical strength as well. Which means that Red is-"


    Crimson energy erupted in the center of the lab as Red materialized, his face twisting with barely contained fury. "That''s bull! There''s no way I''m weaker than Angelo!" His aura flickered wildly around him like an angry flame.


    Forcing a laugh that sounded like broken glass, Red continued, "And what... 25%? HA! Don''t make me laugh. I''m not a weakling! There''s no way I''d ever believe this bullshit!"


    Angelo stepped forward, one hand raised placatingly. "Red! That''s enough-"


    But Red was beyond reason, his aura pulsing with each angry word. "NO! Shut your stupid face! Why should we believe anything he says?"


    Blue moved between them, his voice cutting through the tension like a cool breeze. "Red. Enough. He just confirms what we''ve long suspected-"


    Red whirled on Blue, his energy crackling dangerously. "Shut it, blueberry! Don''t you get it?! If I''m this weak, the same goes for you!"


    The silence that followed felt heavy enough to touch. Then, Blue turned to Albert, his voice carrying carefully controlled calm. "Professor, might I request use of the training field? I believe a practical demonstration is in order."


    Albert blinked, clearly caught off guard by this sudden shift. "Of course, but... to what end?"


    Blue''s response came out like a riddle. "All will become clear soon enough. Angelo, shall we? I would like a sparring match."


    Red''s aura flickered with a mix of anger and curiosity as he watched this exchange. "Oh, this I gotta see. The walking, talking encyclopedia thinks he can prove something with his fists? This''ll be rich."


    Albert rose from his chair, adjusting his glasses as scientific interest visibly overtook his concern. "Well, this is an unexpected turn of events. Do be careful, boys. And if you don''t mind, I''ll observe. This could provide some fascinating data."


    Angelo nodded, his mind already racing with implications as they headed for the exit. The tension in the air felt thick enough to cut with a knife as they made their way through the gleaming corridors. Whatever Blue had planned, it was clear this would be more than just a simple sparring match. It would be a test - of strength, of will, and of the very nature of their unique existence.


    The empty training field waited ahead like an arena, ready to host their unconventional experiment in self-discovery. The setting sun painted the sky in shades of fire, as if nature itself was setting the stage for what was to come.

 7. Sparring Down Memory Lane

    The tension from their earlier conversation with Albert lingered like a heavy blanket as Angelo and Blue made their way through the sterile corridors of the research facility. Their footsteps echoed off polished floors that seemed to stretch endlessly ahead, each step carrying the weight of revelations about their shared condition.


    Behind them, Red hung back with Albert, muttering under his breath just loud enough for the old scientist to hear. "What''s that blue bastard plotting now?" Albert''s eyebrows lifted slightly at Red''s grumbling, but he kept his thoughts to himself, watching the interplay between his unusual test subjects with keen interest.


    The group emerged into bright sunlight as they reached the training field. Years of supernatural combat had left their mark on the reinforced concrete - deep gouges and scorch marks telling silent stories of countless battles and experiments. The air itself seemed to crackle with leftover energy, making the hair on their arms stand up as they breathed in the electric atmosphere.


    Blue and Angelo took up positions in the center of the vast space, facing each other like duelists at dawn. Angelo''s brown eyes darted about uncertainly, muscles tensed as he tried to anticipate what Blue had planned. Though they shared the same face, their stances couldn''t have been more different - Blue''s calm and measured, Angelo''s coiled like a spring.


    From the sidelines, Albert and Red watched with contrasting interest. The old scientist''s eyes gleamed with academic curiosity behind his glasses, while Red crossed his arms tightly, impatience radiating from his rigid posture.


    Blue turned to Albert with characteristic composure. "Professor, if you would be so kind as to commence our match."


    Albert straightened his lab coat, nodding as he composed himself. "Very well. Gentlemen, are you ready? Begin!"


    The air shimmered like a heat mirage as both fighters activated their auras - ethereal energy fields that surrounded them like ghostly flames. Angelo wasted no time, closing the distance in a blur of motion. His left hook cut through the air with devastating force, but Blue moved like water around the strike. In one fluid motion, he redirected Angelo''s momentum, sending him flying across the field.


    Angelo''s body carved a path through the dust as he slid, but he was already retaliating. Energy blasts shot from his hands like glowing orange tennis balls. Yet Blue dodged each one with grace, as if he''d memorized their trajectory before they were fired. His counter-attack came in the form of precise two-fingered energy shots, striking key points on Angelo''s body - forehead, chest, joints. While not powerful enough to cause serious damage, their precise placement amplified their effectiveness.


    Shaking his head to clear it, Angelo sprang back to his feet. His face set with determination as he tried a more creative approach. Two energy tendrils - like ghostly ropes made of glowing smoke - shot from his body toward the wall behind Blue. Using them like grappling lines, Angelo launched himself forward, legs extended for a devastating kick.


    Blue waited until the last possible moment before jumping slightly, meeting Angelo''s charge with perfectly timed straight legs to the stomach. The impact drove the air from Angelo''s lungs in an audible "Gah!" But even winded, he refused to let up. His hands locked around Blue''s legs as they fell, using the momentum to throw his opponent away. Blue crashed but recovered with cat-like grace, rolling back to his feet in one smooth motion.


    "Not bad," he said simply, his calm tone a stark contrast to the intensity of their exchange.


    From his position on the sidelines, Red''s eyes widened in disbelief. "What the actual hell?" he muttered, confusion and reluctant admiration warring in his voice.


    The battle continued with increasing intensity. Angelo''s fists glowed orange as he pressed his attack, throwing a punch with one hand as a feint. When Blue twisted away as expected, Angelo tried to capitalize with a point-blank energy blast from his other hand. But Blue was already moving, his elbow finding Angelo''s ribs before the blast could form.


    This pattern repeated itself - Blue reading and countering each move, using Angelo''s own force against him like a master martial artist. Frustration mounted on Angelo''s face with each failed attack.


    "Stand still, damn it!" he growled, his voice rough with exertion.


    "And make it easy for you? I think not," Blue replied, an unusual smirk playing across his normally stoic features.


    Desperation finally drove Angelo to more drastic measures. He leaped backward, putting distance between them as his aura flickered violently. Energy began to coalesce between his palms, building like a miniature sun. Blue recognized the shift in tactics, jumping back to gain his own space. To everyone''s surprise, he too began charging an attack.


    Red watched the mounting energy with growing frustration. "I don''t get it. What''s the point of all this?"


    Albert kept his eyes fixed on the impending clash, responding softly, "What do you mean, my boy?"


    "It''s obvious now that Blue wanted to show me that raw power isn''t everything," Red''s voice grew more agitated even as his gaze remained locked on the battle. "But here he is, charging an attack of his own. I don''t understand."


    Before Albert could respond, Angelo''s voice rang out across the field: "This ends now! ENERGY BOMB!" The massive blast of orange power lit up the training ground like a second sun, its brilliance forcing everyone to shield their eyes.


    As the light faded, they caught a glimpse of something unexpected - Blue was smirking. Instead of meeting the attack head-on, he fired his own blast at the ground, kicking up a massive dust cloud that obscured him completely. When Angelo''s energy bomb pierced the cloud, Blue was already gone.


    "What the-" Angelo''s confused exclamation cut off as Blue materialized at his side, landing an energy-enhanced punch that caught him completely off guard.


    "Always be aware of your surroundings, Angelo," Blue stated calmly as his opponent went flying. Angelo''s aura flickered out like a snuffed candle as he hit the ground, marking the clear end of the match.


    As the dust settled, Blue walked with measured steps toward Red and Albert. The old scientist''s face showed impressed surprise, while Red''s expressions cycled rapidly - confusion, anger, and finally a grudging respect he couldn''t quite hide.


    Angelo pushed himself up, shaking off the effects of the final blow as he made his way over to join them. His pride was clearly bruised, but there was something else in his eyes - a spark of understanding beginning to take hold.


    Blue addressed Red with characteristic composure. "I trust you''ve grasped the lesson here, Red. Raw power, while impressive, isn''t everything. A strategic mind can often overcome brute force."


    Red crossed his arms and turned away with an exaggerated huff. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. You''re a regular genius. Whatever." His eyes darted to Angelo as he approached. "Hey, hotshot! Don''t think you''re off the hook. If Blue can take you down, I sure as hell can. You''re fighting me next!"The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    A competitive fire lit in Angelo''s eyes, mixing with lingering irritation from his defeat. "Oh yeah? Maybe Blue caught me off guard, but don''t think you''ll have it so easy." His voice dropped almost to a whisper, "I won''t make the same mistake twice."


    Angelo glanced at Blue, who responded with a subtle nod and gentle smile. Sighing in resignation, Angelo squared his shoulders. "Okay, you insufferable hothead. Let''s go."


    As Red moved to square off against Angelo, Blue and Albert stepped back to observe from a safe distance. The air soon filled with the sounds of combat - Red''s battle cries, the impact of supernatural blows, and small explosions that peppered the training ground like fireworks.


    Albert turned to Blue, a knowing smile playing across his weathered features. "That was quite the performance, Blue. Beneath that cool exterior, you''ve got quite the soft spot for those two, don''t you?"


    Blue''s expression remained carefully neutral. "Is that so? I just thought it was about time Red made peace with his existence."


    Albert''s brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean, my boy?"


    Blue''s gaze seemed to look past the ongoing sparring match, focusing on some distant point in their shared past. "Angelo isn''t the only one who had it rough growing up. Yes, we used to communicate with him before we could emerge. Our minds, like his, were developing as well. We were children, just like him."


    Albert listened intently as Blue continued, his voice carrying a rare emotional weight. "We didn''t know about possible repercussions. We never imagined it would make Angelo come across as weird, different... a freak. Adults feel the need to get away from such individuals... but other children..." His voice trailed off, the memory clearly painful even for someone usually so composed.


    Albert finished the thought gently, "Children can be cruel in the most innocent of ways."


    Blue paused, his usual composure wavering slightly. "Indeed. Red and I, we weren''t mere spectators to Angelo''s suffering. We lived it with him, felt every cruel word cut deep, every physical blow land as if on our own bodies. The isolation... it wasn''t just Angelo''s burden. It was ours too, a shared loneliness that seemed to stretch on forever."


    Albert felt his chest tighten at Blue''s words, the weight of their collective suffering almost tangible in the air between them.


    Blue''s gaze dropped to the scuffed concrete, his voice barely above a whisper. "It''s easy to view Angelo as the sole victim in this tale, Professor. Our presence undeniably caused him immense pain. But Red and I... we bore our own unique torment." He looked up, his eyes reflecting years of buried pain. "Imagine being a prisoner within your own body, aware yet unable to act. We could communicate with Angelo, yes, but we were ultimately powerless to change anything. We shared in his suffering, yet were condemned to be mere observers of our shared existence."


    Albert''s hand trembled slightly as he reached out, almost touching Blue''s shoulder before stopping himself. The weight of their collective anguish seemed to fill the air between them, heavier than before, a silent testament to the complexity of their shared past.


    Blue''s gaze drifted back to the ongoing sparring match, but his mind seemed far away. "When Angelo unlocked his Aura, Red and I could feel that energy being drawn to us as well. It coursed through us, growing stronger until we had enough to materialize."


    Albert leaned forward, scientific curiosity temporarily overriding the emotional gravity of the moment. "Fascinating. And when you did materialize?"


    Blue''s expression darkened. "When we did, Red came to a conclusion. He decided Angelo was too weak to stand up to the others, too weak to protect us all. So he... he tried to take over."


    Albert''s eyes widened in shock. "Take over? I''m not sure I follow, Blue."


    Blue met Albert''s gaze steadily. "No, professor, it''s exactly as you imagine. Red wanted to swap places with Angelo, to become the ''main body'' himself."


    Albert shook his head, bewilderment clear on his face. "But, but that''s impossible. Nothing in my research suggests such a thing could happen. The energy composition, the fundamental structure of your beings..."


    "I know," Blue nodded, a hint of a sad smile playing on his lips. "But how could we have known that then? How could Red have known? Our very nature was as much a mystery to us as it was to Angelo."


    Albert''s brow furrowed in thought. "I see. And I assume this attempt..."


    "Failed, yes," Blue finished. "Red lost to Angelo that day, and he''s never managed to best him since. It''s likely the root of his antagonistic behavior towards Angelo. Though, knowing Red, he''d probably be troublesome regardless."


    Albert nodded slowly, processing this new information. "It sounds like a coping mechanism, a way to deal with feelings of inadequacy perhaps." His gaze shifted to Blue, a knowing look in his eyes. "Perhaps the same could be said about you, my dear boy."


    Blue closed his eyes, considering Albert''s words. After a moment of thoughtful silence, he simply said, "...maybe," his tone suggesting volumes left unspoken.


    Meanwhile, Angelo dodged another of Red''s wild attacks, his mind already incorporating lessons from his defeat by Blue. Each move now came with more calculation, more precision. ''Blue beat me with strategy, not just power,'' he reflected as he wove between Red''s energy blasts. ''I need to be smarter, not just stronger.'' The lesson from his loss was already reshaping his approach to combat.


    Suddenly, Red''s voice shattered the tactical moment. "Hey, Angelo! Think fast!" A barrage of energy projectiles lit up the field like crimson fireworks. While most targeted Angelo, a few stray blasts hurtled toward Albert and Blue.


    Albert''s eyes widened in panic, but Blue reacted with lightning speed. His aura flared to life as he sidestepped, simultaneously using his energy tendrils to pull Albert safely out of harm''s way.


    As the dust settled, Albert released a shaky breath of relief. Blue turned toward Angelo and Red, his gaze sharp with disapproval.


    Angelo''s face fell, guilt written across his features. "H-hey, don''t look at me like that! It was this loose cannon that nearly barbecued you, not me!"


    Red''s voice rang out, defiant as ever. "Oh, don''t be such a crybaby. It''s not my fault you can''t take the heat. A real fighter would stand their ground!"


    Blue addressed them both, his voice stern as a disappointed teacher. "Your recklessness nearly injured the professor. Both of you need to exercise more caution."


    Angelo and Red exchanged guilty looks, with Angelo rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "Sorry about that, Albert. We''ll be more careful."


    To everyone''s surprise, when Red spoke again, his voice carried an uncharacteristic calm. "Yeah... my bad. Let''s move further away, Angelo. Can''t have the old man getting caught in the crossfire, can we?"


    As the sun began its descent toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the training field, Angelo and Red''s sparring match reached its conclusion. They landed simultaneous blows that forced a tie - Red reverting to smoke form and retreating to Angelo''s body while Angelo''s aura flickered out like a dying flame.


    The group lingered until Red could materialize again. As they prepared to leave, Albert asked the three to emerge one final time. There they stood - Angelo, Blue, and Red - a trio born of extraordinary circumstances, their identical faces marked by the day''s revelations and battles.


    Albert''s eyes shimmered with emotion as he addressed them. "Well, my boys, it''s been quite the enlightening day. I hope to see you all again soon. As always, it''s been a pleasure." Without warning, he gathered the three of them into a group hug.


    For a moment, all three felt a shared sense of embarrassment... and beneath it, a warmth they rarely allowed themselves to acknowledge.


    "Alright, alright, enough with the mushy stuff," Red grumbled, but there was no real bite to his words.


    When Red''s embarrassment reached its peak, he dissolved into red smoke, retreating back into Angelo like mist being drawn into a bottle. Angelo and Blue said their farewells before leaving, the weight of the day''s revelations and confrontations hanging between them like an invisible thread.


    As they disappeared into the gathering twilight, Albert stood alone on the field, lost in deep thought. His voice, barely above a whisper, carried the weight of a profound ethical dilemma.


    "I wanted to tell them more... but I just couldn''t. I''m not sure if I should. If they are split, then in theory, it might be possible for them to become whole again. But then, what will become of Red and Blue? This is an unprecedented ethical dilemma..."


    He sighed heavily, the weight of knowledge and responsibility pressing down on his shoulders like a physical thing. "Half of me wants to forget this possibility and not pursue it. The other believes that it''s my duty as a scientist to pursue any scientific lead I come across..."


    With a heavy heart, Albert retreated to his facility, the echoes of the day''s events still ringing in his mind. The path ahead was uncertain, fraught with questions of ethics, identity, and the very nature of existence itself. As the lights of his lab flickered on, casting their sterile glow across his equipment, Albert knew that the choices he made in the coming days would have far-reaching consequences for Angelo, Red, Blue, and perhaps the entire world of Aurons.

 8. Mentorship

    The morning sun had climbed high over Novaria''s skyline, its rays piercing through the gaps in Angelo''s curtains. The city outside hummed with life, but inside his modest apartment, Angelo remained oblivious to the world, deep in slumber. His suspension from duty had stripped away any urgency to greet the day.


    The shrill ring of Angelo''s phone cut through the tranquil atmosphere, but even this failed to rouse him from his deep sleep. Blue materialized beside the bed, his form a perfect mirror of Angelo''s. His eyes darted between the insistently ringing phone and Angelo''s sleeping form.


    "This presents quite the dilemma," Blue mused, his usual composure tinged with uncertainty. "Do I wake Angelo and risk his irritation, or..." He glanced at the caller ID and his eyes widened. "It''s the chief. Perhaps I should answer in Angelo''s stead?"


    As Blue wrestled with indecision, Red''s mischievous voice echoed in his mind. "Oh, let me take this one. It''ll be absolutely hilarious!"


    With a resigned sigh, Blue reached for the phone. "I shudder to think what chaos you''d unleash," he muttered, then cleared his throat and adopted his best imitation of Angelo''s casual tone. "Good morning, sir," he answered, trying to sound natural.


    Chief Ramirez''s gruff voice crackled through the speaker, laced with suspicion. "Took you long enough to pick up, Angelo. Don''t tell me you''re still in bed. Has this suspension already made you soft?"


    Blue could practically feel Red''s glee radiating through their shared consciousness. Steeling himself, he responded, "Not at all, sir. My apologies for the delay. I... misplaced my phone momentarily."


    The chief grunted, seemingly satisfied with the excuse. "Alright, listen up. I''ve got some important matters to discuss with you."


    Blue, treading carefully, replied, "Of course, sir. What seems to be the issue?"


    "Well, it''s been two years since you joined the force through the special training and recruitment program for promising Aurons. Now that you''re 18, it means you''ve officially graduated," Chief Ramirez began, his tone a mix of pride and something else Blue couldn''t quite place.


    Blue, unsure of the chief''s direction, responded cautiously, "Yes, I''m aware, sir. The graduation ceremony is still fresh in my mind. May I ask why you''re bringing this up now?"


    "Don''t get ahead of yourself, I''m getting there," the chief chided, his gruff voice softening slightly. "Every two years, we welcome a new generation into the program. Your group has just graduated, and after a few months of rigorous candidate selection, we''re ready to usher in the next batch."


    Blue, attempting to mimic Angelo''s enthusiasm but falling short, replied, "That''s fantastic news, chief! I''m thrilled to hear it." His imitation of Angelo''s casual demeaner was painfully unconvincing.


    Chief Ramirez paused, his brow furrowing at the odd response. After a moment, he continued, "Right... Well, here''s where it becomes relevant to you. Starting today, you''ll be guiding one of these new candidates. They''ll undergo training at the station from 8 AM to 4 PM, and then from 5 PM to 8 PM, they''ll be shadowing one of you experienced officers - in this case, you."


    Blue, caught off guard by this revelation, stammered, "Is that so? I don''t recall being paired with a mentor from the previous generation when we joined, I mean, when I joined," he hastily corrected, realizing his slip.


    "Yeah, we are trying a new approach. I called to let you in on the details and another thing."


    There was a pause on the other end of the line, and when Chief Ramirez spoke again, his tone had shifted to one of deadly seriousness. "Now listen here, Angelo. This is important. While you''re mentoring this new recruit, I don''t want to see a hint of that ''Angel of Death'' nonsense. You stick to what you were taught, understood?"


    Blue hesitated for a split second before replying, "Absolutely, sir. I understand completely." Then, almost despite himself, he added, "Does this mean my suspension has been lifted?"


    The chief''s laughter was short and humorless. "Nice try, kid. You''re still very much suspended. Consider this mentorship part of your punishment."


    "Ah, good thing you jogged my memory," Chief Ramirez said, his tone shifting to a more official cadence. "Per department protocol, before you can resume active duty, you''re required to complete a refresher course. I''m sending the video link to your phone as we speak. You''ve got some flexibility on when to watch it - could be today, tomorrow, or even a week from now. Just make sure you''ve gone through it before you set foot back in this precinct, understood?"


    Blue, sensing the conversation drawing to a close, replied with carefully measured relief, "Certainly, sir. I''ll make sure to complete it promptly. Is there anything else you need from me?"


    The chief paused, mentally running through his checklist. After a moment, he added, "Yes, one last thing. Don''t forget your rendezvous with your assigned junior officer in the town square. Kid''s name is Bill. Tall fellow, got a mop of curly brown hair on his head. You can''t miss him."


    With a final exchange of formalities, Blue and the chief concluded the call. As the line went dead, Blue closed his eyes, his normally composed features betraying a hint of stress as he grappled with the weight of the unexpected responsibilities thrust upon them.


    After ending the call, Blue stood motionless for a moment, processing the weight of the new responsibilities thrust upon them. He turned his gaze to Angelo''s still-sleeping form, then addressed Red. "I noticed you were uncharacteristically silent throughout that entire exchange."


    Red''s laughter rang out in Blue''s mind. "And ruin such prime entertainment? Not a chance. Watching you squirm was far too amusing."


    An hour later, after Blue and Red had finally roused Angelo and brought him up to speed, all three stood facing each other in the small living room, fully materialized. Angelo''s face was a mask of disbelief and frustration.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    "You agreed to WHAT?" Angelo exclaimed, his voice rising with each word. "How could you just accept all of that without consulting me?"


    Blue met Angelo''s heated gaze calmly. "Given our current suspended status, I doubt protest would have been a prudent option. Unless, of course, your goal is outright termination from the force."


    Angelo turned his frustrated gaze to Red. "And you? Why didn''t you step in and stop this madness?"


    Red''s lips curled into a mischievous grin. "Oh, I tried. Told Blue to let me handle the call. He refused. Not my fault he''s such a stick in the mud."


    Angelo paused, a look of horror flashing across his face as he imagined the chaos that would have ensued had Red answered the chief''s call. Shaking off the thought, he let out a resigned sigh.


    "What''s done is done, I suppose," Angelo conceded, his voice tinged with frustration. "So, we''re expected to meet this new recruit at 5 PM, is that right?"


    Blue nodded, his tone matter-of-fact. "Indeed. And don''t forget, we also need to watch that refresher course video. The chief sent a link to your phone."


    Angelo ran a hand over his face, fatigue and annoyance evident in his gesture. "Right, of course he did. Well, that can wait for another day. I was hoping to start pursuing some leads today. We''re at square one here, and I have no clue where to begin. We went to Albert''s yesterday for advice, and we completely got sidetracked."


    Red''s voice cut in, his tone dripping with mock disapproval. "Oh yes, you should be ashamed of yourself. Tsk tsk."


    Blue, ever the voice of reason, interjected, "We still have nearly seven hours before our appointment. That should provide ample time to formulate a starting point and perhaps even begin our investigation."


    Angelo''s expression hardened with determination. "I think our first move should be to uncover more about our parents. That''s where this all began, after all."


    Red chimed in, a rare note of thoughtfulness in his tone. "You know, come to think of it, we don''t really know much about them, do we? Or was I not paying attention all this time?" he turned his gaze towards Blue.


    Blue closed his eyes, recalling what little information they had. "We were mere infants when they passed. Our home was destroyed, and we spent the majority of our childhood years in the orphanage. Those we questioned either knew little or were unwilling to share. By the time we came of age, we discovered our former home had been demolished and the property sold to another family. I''m afraid we have precious little to work with, Red."


    Angelo''s brow furrowed as he continued, "The only information we were ever given was that they died in some sort of lab accident. This would mean our parents were likely scientists, engineers, or perhaps chemists of some sort."


    Red fell silent for a moment, then suggested, his voice uncharacteristically thoughtful, "You know, maybe we should consider returning to Ashford. There might be someone there who knew our parents. We''re adults now - I''m sure they''d be more willing to talk to us."


    As Red spoke, unwelcome images of Ashford flickered through their shared consciousness. The memories were far from pleasant, and among them, the face of a particular child surfaced unbidden.


    Angelo shook his head vigorously, as if trying to physically dislodge the thoughts. "I don''t think that''s a good idea, Red," he said, his voice strained.


    Blue, ever perceptive, interjected softly, "Perhaps the true reason for your reluctance is that you wish to avoid encountering Har-"


    "No!" Angelo cut him off abruptly, his voice sharp with barely contained panic. "This has absolutely nothing to do with that. I just don''t see any point in revisiting Ashford." Despite his forceful words, nervousness was evident in his demeaner.


    Seizing upon a sudden realization, Angelo added hastily, "Besides, we can''t possibly leave for Ashford until we''ve completed our obligation to Bill. We''re required to meet with him daily at 5 PM." The inconvenience of their new mentorship duty had suddenly become a convenient excuse.


    Blue, maintaining his characteristic calm, replied, "Very well. Once we''ve fulfilled our duties with Bill, we''ll request a few days'' leave from the chief to investigate in Ashford."


    Angelo''s eyes widened in alarm. "And what, we just sit on our hands regarding our parents until then?"


    Blue responded evenly, "Not necessarily. We may be short on ideas at the moment, but should inspiration strike, we can set a plan in motion immediately."


    Red, unable to resist the opportunity to needle Angelo, chimed in with a smirk, "Oh, Angie, you were so close to wiggling out of it."


    Angelo slumped onto his worn couch, resignation etched on his face. "Well, I might as well get this refresher video out of the way," he muttered, reaching for his laptop.


    Red''s face contorted in disgust. "Yeah, hard pass on that snooze-fest. I''m going for a walk. Who knows? Maybe I''ll stumble upon another juicy lead like I did in the archives." His lips curled into a mischievous grin. "Could be fun, eh?"


    "Oh no, you don''t¡ª" Angelo started, but before he could finish, Red had already transformed into his smoky form, rushing back into Angelo''s body only to re-emerge as an intangible mist. With a wisp of crimson, he slipped through the cracks in the window and vanished into the Novarian air.


    Angelo''s eyes flashed orange, his fists clenching in frustration. "Blue," he said, his voice low and controlled, "Go after him. Make sure he doesn''t cause any trouble. If he does..." he paused, a hint of steel in his tone, "destroy his body."


    "I heard that!" Red''s indignant voice echoed in their shared consciousness.


    "Can it!" Angelo snapped back verbally, his patience wearing thin.


    Blue, ever composed, raised an eyebrow. "And what will you do?"


    Angelo''s eyes faded back to their normal hue as he sighed. "I''ll stay here and suffer through that stupid video," he grumbled.


    With a nod, Blue mimicked Red''s exit, leaving Angelo alone in the quiet apartment.


    Settling in front of his work-issued laptop, Angelo clicked the link Chief Ramirez had sent. The video began to play, revealing a woman with an overly enthusiastic smile that made Angelo cringe.


    "Hello there, officer!" the woman chirped, her voice dripping with artificial cheer. "You''re about to embark on an exciting journey with Luminia''s finest!"


    Angelo groaned, already regretting his decision. As the video droned on, covering mundane topics like dress code and proper radio etiquette, he found his attention drifting. His eyelids grew heavy, and he had to shake himself awake more than once.


    Just as he was about to nod off completely, the topic shifted to something that piqued his interest.


    "Now, let''s discuss our collaboration with other regions," the woman continued, her enthusiasm undiminished. "Luminia works closely with Geovale, Zephyria, Infernia, and Maridian through the International Police. This body handles cases that cross regional boundaries and provides aid in complex situations worldwide."


    The woman''s smile widened even further, if that was possible. "And did you know? We''re proud to host both the International Police and the United Regions Headquarters right here in Luminia, in our beautiful capital city of Lumecent!"


    Angelo sat up straighter, his mind racing with the possibilities this information presented. The proximity of such a powerful organizations could be significant. Could this be relevant to his own investigation?


    The video went on to cover the integration of Aurons and non-Aurons in the force. "Remember," the woman said, her smile impossibly wide, "we''re all equal here! The only difference is in task allocation based on our unique abilities."


    She then delved into the specifics of when Aurons were typically called to action - primarily for Auron versus Auron scenarios and specialized rescue operations.


    As the video neared its end, Angelo found himself torn between boredom and frustration at the oversimplified presentation of complex issues. Occasionally, he could hear Red''s exasperated groans echoing in his mind, a reminder that he wasn''t suffering through this alone.


    After what felt like an eternity, the hour-long video finally concluded. Angelo leaned back, massaging his temples. While most of it had been mind-numbingly dull, he couldn''t shake the feeling that some of the information might prove useful in his quest for answers about his parents. The mention of the International Police Headquarters in Lumecent, in particular, stuck in his mind as a potentially valuable lead.

 9. Enlightening Encounters

    The afternoon sun hung low over Novaria''s bustling town square, casting long shadows across the cobblestones. The air buzzed with excitement as locals and visitors alike milled about, enjoying the lively atmosphere. Colorful banners announcing the upcoming New Light Festival fluttered in the breeze, and the tantalizing aroma of street food wafted through the air.


    Angelo weaved through the crowd, his eyes darting from face to face as he searched for Bill. The chief''s vague instructions echoed in his mind, adding to his growing frustration. Despite his reluctance to take part in this junior program, he couldn''t deny the relief it brought - a perfect excuse to avoid returning to Ashford, at least for now.


    Red, ever restless, emerged from Angelo in his smoke form, swirling around like a mischievous crimson mist in search of this Bill. His voice piped up in Angelo''s mind, "Hey, Angie! You smell that? It''s pizza! We haven''t had a slice in forever. Let''s ditch this Bill kid and grab some grub. I''m starving!"


    Angelo rolled his eyes. "Seriously, Red? You can¡¯t even eat.¡±


    Red snickered, "Yeah, but you can. And when you eat, I get to taste it too. And I¡¯d love me some pizza right about now.¡±


    Blue''s calm voice cut through their banter. "Gentlemen, perhaps we''re missing an opportunity here. As his seniors, we could invite Bill for pizza, you know. It might be a good way to break the ice and start this mentorship on the right foot."


    Angelo''s exasperation was evident in his voice. "Are you serious right now? He''s barely two years younger than us! What are we going to do, give him life advice over a pepperoni slice? ¡®Listen up young whippersnapper, let me tell you about the good old days of 24 months ago¡¯?"


    Red burst into laughter. "Oh man, I can see it now. Angelo, the wise old sage, dispensing pearls of wisdom between bites. ''Back in my day, we had to walk uphill both ways to catch criminals!''"


    Blue sighed, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. "While your comedy routine needs work, we should probably focus on finding Bill first. We can figure out how to navigate this mentorship later. Who knows, maybe your two years of additional experience will prove invaluable."


    As they continued their back-and-forth, a commotion down the street caught their attention. A man''s voice rang out, passionate and urgent, rising above the general hubbub of the square.


    "Citizens of Novaria, open your eyes!" the man shouted, his face red with exertion. "The Enlightened Society isn''t what you think! Their godlike powers are a siren''s song, luring you into a false sense of security! They stand by, indifferent to our suffering, while possessing the power to reshape our world!"


    Angelo turned to look, curiosity piqued. The guy was a mess - disheveled hair, wild eyes, gesturing like crazy as he ranted.


    Red groaned internally. "Great, another nutjob with a megaphone. Just what this lovely evening needed. Can''t a guy enjoy some pizza-sniffing without a sermon?"


    Blue''s response was dry. "My, my, Red. I thought you''d appreciate the entertainment. Isn''t this right up your alley? Or would you prefer to be the one causing the commotion?"


    Red snorted. "Please, I''ve got way more style than this amateur. Now, if you want to see some real chaos..."


    "Don''t you dare," Angelo warned. "I¡¯m in enough trouble as it is already.¡±


    Before their internal chat could continue, two cops from the non-Auron division approached the shouting man. They each grabbed an arm, looking more tired than anything else.


    "Orin, buddy, we''ve got to stop meeting like this," one cop sighed, his voice a mix of exasperation and familiarity. "Third time this week, isn''t it? People are going to talk."


    The other cop chimed in, his tone weary but not unkind, "Yeah, Orin, you''re becoming a regular. We should start a frequent flyer program for you at this rate."


    Orin struggled against their grip, still yelling. "Unhand me, you blind fools! Can''t you see the truth? The Enlightened Society is-"


    The first officer cut him off, rolling his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, we know. They''re all-powerful, all-corrupt, and probably kick puppies for fun. How about we discuss this over a nice cup of coffee back at the station? I hear they''ve got a new blend that''ll blow your mind."


    As they led Orin away, his shouts fading into the distance, Angelo couldn''t help but wonder aloud, "What was that all about?"


    A guy at a nearby food stall shook his head. "That there''s a tragedy walking on two legs," he said, sounding genuinely sad. "Poor Orin lost his family not too long ago. Word is, one of those Enlightened types was around but didn''t lift a finger to help. Guy''s been on a rampage ever since, preaching about the Enlightened Society every chance he gets."


    Angelo''s brow furrowed. "Enlightened? Why does that sound familiar?" He directed the thought inward. "Blue, you know anything about this?"


    Blue paused before answering. "The term does ring a bell, but I can''t quite place it. It''s as if we''ve encountered it in passing, but the context eludes me. Perhaps it wasn''t significant enough at the time to warrant detailed memory storage."


    Red chimed in, "Oh great, here comes the lecture. Professor Blue is about to bore us with his theories on memory and cognition. Can we skip to the part where something actually happens?"


    Blue ignored the jab. "If I may suggest, we passed an internet cafe on our way here. It might be prudent to conduct some research on this ''Enlightened'' concept. Knowledge, after all, is power." He then emerged out of Angelo in his blue smoke form, and headed over to that internet caf¨¦.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    As Blue materialized near the cafe entrance, startling a few passersby, Red''s dismissive "Nerd Alert!...Nerd Alert!" echoed in their shared mind.


    Blue settled in front of a computer and started searching. After a few minutes, he reported back. "Gentlemen, I believe I''ve uncovered something of interest. It appears there''s a hidden state to our aura, known as ''Enlightened Mode.'' Achieving this state requires one to undergo a process of enlightenment."


    Red yawned loudly in their mind. "Wow, Blue. You''ve really outdone yourself this time. I''m on the edge of my non-existent seat. Please, do go on about this thrilling discovery."


    Blue continued, undeterred. "You might want to pay attention, Red. This mode isn''t just some minor power-up. It represents a profound connection with the cosmos itself, granting those who unlock it power beyond our wildest dreams. These individuals are known as ''The Children of The Cosmos.'' And here''s something to tickle your dramatic sensibilities - when an Auron enters Enlightened mode, their eyes become literal windows to the universe."


    Angelo''s interest was piqued. "Okay, I''ve gotta admit, that does sound pretty cool. Maybe we should look into this Enlightened Mode thing."


    Blue''s tone turned cautious. "I wouldn''t recommend it, Angelo."


    Angelo frowned. "What? Why not? Sounds like it could be useful."


    Red chimed in, "Yeah, Blue. What''s the catch? There''s always a catch with this kind of stuff."


    Blue explained, his voice serious, "The catch is significant. There''s a group called the Enlightened Society or ES for short. Once you achieve Enlightenment, you have to join them... or perish."


    Angelo''s mental voice was incredulous. "Wait, what? If these Enlightened are so tough, who could even threaten them?"


    Blue responded matter-of-factly, "Other Enlightened, obviously. They send at least two members to ''recruit'' new Enlightened. And there''s more. Even though a lot about the ES is a mystery to outsiders, we do know some things. They have this rule called the Non-Intervention Law or NIL."


    "Which means...?" Angelo prompted.


    Blue elaborated, his tone grave, "It means they believe humanity must face its own challenges without interference. Natural disasters? They''ll step in. But wars, famines, plagues caused by human folly? We''re on our own. And if an Enlightened dares to intervene in human affairs, It''s a death sentence. No exceptions."


    Red whistled internally. "Well, damn. No wonder that Orin guy was losing his marbles. Sounds like these Enlightened folks aren''t exactly the heroes of the people."


    Blue concluded, "There''s one more piece to this puzzle. ''Enlightened'' isn''t just a state of being - it''s also a rank in the global Auron Ranking System. Those who achieve this rank are considered to be on par with the actual Enlightened, at least in terms of power. That is how that rank got its name."


    A look of recognition flashed across Angelo''s face, his eyes lighting up with sudden understanding. "Wait a sec, now I remember where we heard about that Enlightened stuff before. It was during that boring orientation when we joined the force, right? They went on and on about Auron rankings."


    Before they could dive deeper into the memory, Red''s voice cut through their shared consciousness, tinged with a mix of excitement and mischief. "Hey, heads up, guys. I think I just spotted our fresh meat."


    Blue''s response was immediate, his tone carrying a note of exasperation. "Really, Red? ''Fresh meat''? Must you always be so crude? He''s our junior, not some target for your pranks."


    Through Red''s vision, they could see a tall, skinny teenager weaving through the crowd. He wore an officer uniform that hung loosely on his lanky frame, clearly designed for trainees rather than full-fledged officers. The oversized clothes made him look even younger and more out of place amidst the bustling square. His curly brown hair bounced with each step, and a soft, almost naive smile played on his lips as he bobbed his head to whatever was playing through his earphones. His eyes were closed in quiet enjoyment, giving him an air of carefree innocence that seemed utterly at odds with the chaotic energy of the square.


    Red snickered, his tone dripping with anticipation. "Oh, this is gonna be fun. Kid looks greener than grass. Bet I could scare him right out of his oversized pants."


    Angelo''s annoyance was palpable in his mental voice. "Knock it off, Red. Let''s just go say hi and get this whole mentorship thing over with." His reluctance to engage in this duty was still glaringly evident.


    Guided by Red''s line of sight, Angelo made his way through the crowd towards Bill, meanwhile Blue reverted to his smoke form back in the caf¨¦ and flew all the way back to Angelo¡¯s body. As they came face to face, the contrast between them was striking. Bill''s youthful, open expression was a stark counterpoint to Angelo''s sharp, displeased look ¨C a look that Angelo himself was unaware of, but which made him seem more like a disgruntled drill sergeant than a mentor.


    "You Bill?" Angelo asked, his tone flatter than week-old soda. "I''m Angelo. Looks like I''m stuck mentoring you this week."


    The name hit Bill like a ton of bricks, triggering a recent memory. Earlier that day, he had overheard some fellow trainees gossiping.


    <blockquote>


    "God, I hope I get Jack as my mentor," one of the female trainees had gushed. "He''s such a dreamboat, and I heard he''s like the rising star of the last batch."


    Another trainee had butted in, "Yeah, if you don''t count Angelo. Though he''s more like a falling star ¨C you know, the Angel of Death and all that jazz."


    </blockquote>


    Bill''s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, a mix of awe and terror washing over his face. "A-A-Angelo? As in, the A-Angel of Death?"


    Angelo raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the kid''s reaction. "Uh, yeah? What''s with the stuttering? I''m not gonna bite your head off or anything."


    Red, never one to pass up an opportunity for a prank, materialized in front of Bill. His smoky form coalesced into a grayer version of Angelo, complete with a wicked grin. "BOO!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the square.


    Bill yelped, stumbling backward and landing hard on his backside. Red doubled over with laughter, slapping his knee. "Oh man, did you see his face? Priceless!"


    Angelo groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Real mature, Red. Really living up to that ''senior officer'' title, aren''t we?"


    Bill scrambled backward, his eyes darting between Angelo and Red. "W-What the hell? There''s two of you? What kind of crazy is this?!"


    Blue, ever the voice of reason, materialized with a disapproving frown. He shook his head at Red and Angelo. "Honestly, you two. Is this how we treat a new colleague? Shameful." He turned to Bill, extending a hand. "My apologies for my... counterparts. Let''s start over, shall we?"


    Bill looked up, and the scene before him was something straight out of a fever dream. One Angelo stood gazing sideways, looking like he''d rather be anywhere else. Another grayer Angelo was still chuckling at his own prank. And right in front of him, a third grayer Angelo was offering him a hand up, wearing an expression of polite concern.


    As Bill stared up at the three identical yet distinct faces, each wearing a different expression, he realized that his training was going to be far from ordinary. The New Light Festival preparations continued around them, but for Bill, Angelo, and his two counterparts, a new and unpredictable chapter was just beginning ¨C whether they liked it or not.

 10. Slices of Life

    The sun hung low over Novaria''s bustling town square, casting long shadows across the cobblestones. The air buzzed with excitement as locals and visitors alike milled about, enjoying the lively atmosphere. Colorful banners announcing the upcoming New Light Festival fluttered in the breeze, and the tantalizing aroma of street food wafted through the air.


    Amidst this vibrant scene, the neon sign of Pizza Zap flickered to life, its electric blue glow a stark contrast to the warm hues of the setting sun. Inside, the retro-styled pizzeria hummed with the chatter of patrons and the sizzle of fresh pies emerging from the oven.


    In a corner booth, an unlikely group had gathered. Bill, still reeling from his encounter with his intimidating new mentor, found himself seated across from not one, but three identical versions of Angelo. The oversized slices of pizza before them steamed gently, their edges hanging off the plates like cheesy waterfalls.


    Angelo took a deliberate bite of his slice, the stringy cheese stretching comically. Red''s eyes lit up with exaggerated pleasure. "Oh man, that''s the stuff!" he exclaimed, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Nothing beats a good slice after a long day!"


    Bill''s gaze darted between the three Angelos, his expression a mix of fascination and bewilderment. Before he could voice his confusion, Angelo turned to Red, his tone laced with exasperation.


    "We get it, Red. You''re a pizza fanatic," Angelo said, rolling his eyes. "But why are you even here in physical form? You can make these comments without materializing, you know."


    A mischievous grin spread across Red''s face. "Oh, but you see," he said, leaning in conspiratorially, "this makes Billy boy here uncomfortable, and I''m most comfortable around those who aren''t comfortable. So, I''m getting comfortable by making Bill uncomfortable."


    Angelo and Bill exchanged looks of disbelief, momentarily united in their bewilderment at Red''s twisted logic. The silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant sizzle of the pizza oven and the muffled chatter of other patrons.


    "You''re a psychopath," Angelo muttered, shaking his head.


    Red''s grin only widened. "Well, well, Angie," he drawled, "if I''m crazy, what does that make you? After all, I''m just another side of your charming personality."


    Blue, who had been observing the exchange with growing irritation, finally stepped in. His voice cut through the tension like a cool breeze on a summer day. "That''s enough, Red," he said firmly. "The Professor already explained how our condition works. Stop playing your mind games."


    Blue''s gaze softened as it shifted to Bill, who looked like he was trying to solve a particularly complex puzzle. The young recruit no longer seemed terrified, which Blue considered progress. Perhaps Red''s antics, as grating as they were, had served some purpose after all.


    Deciding to offer some clarity, Blue addressed Bill directly. "I imagine you have quite a few questions right now," he said, his voice taking on a gentler tone.


    Bill let out a nervous chuckle, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his napkin. "That''s putting it mildly," he admitted. "I feel like I''ve stepped into some kind of bizarre dream."


    Blue nodded understandingly. "I can see how this might be... overwhelming," he acknowledged. "Allow me to explain. In essence, the energy that forms our physical being has been divided, resulting in three distinct entities that share a profound connection."


    Bill''s furrowed brow deepened, clearly struggling with the concept. Seeing this, Angelo decided to step in with a more down-to-earth explanation.


    "Look, kid," Angelo said, leaning forward, "think of it this way. We''re like three pieces of the same pizza. Different slices, same pie. That''s why Red here can taste what I''m eating without taking a bite himself."


    On cue, Red let out an exaggerated moan of culinary ecstasy. "Mmm, speaking of which, this pizza is top-notch," he drawled, his eyes closed in theatrical bliss.


    A tentative smile tugged at Bill''s lips as the absurdity of the situation finally started to sink in. "Okay, I think I''m starting to get it," he said slowly. "But if that''s the case, why can''t Red just eat his own slice? Why does he have to, uh... experience it through you?"


    Angelo sighed, his expression a mix of annoyance and resignation. Explaining the intricacies of his condition was clearly not his favorite pastime. "It''s because Red''s body isn''t exactly real," he explained. "It''s more like a projection of energy. If he tried to eat that pizza and then reintegrated with me, we''d end up with a mess of half-chewed pizza on the floor."


    Red''s eyes gleamed with mischief. "Ooh, now that sounds like a fun experiment," he said, reaching for a slice. "Want to see me try it?"


    Angelo reached out slapping Red¡¯s hand away with a warning glare. "Don''t even think about it," he growled.


    As the banter continued, Bill found himself relaxing, his initial fear giving way to genuine curiosity. "So, if I''m understanding this right," he ventured, "Red and Blue aren''t some kind of superpower you have, but actually part of who you are? Like, a condition?"


    Angelo and Blue exchanged surprised looks, impressed by Bill''s quick grasp of the situation. "That''s... actually spot on," Angelo admitted, his stern expression softening slightly.


    Emboldened by this small victory, Bill leaned in, his eyes shining with excitement. "Is this what makes you such a formidable Auron? This teamwork you have with yourself? I''ve heard stories about the criminals you''ve taken down. You must be incredibly powerful ¨C Veteran rank at least, right?"Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Angelo blinked, caught off guard by the sudden enthusiasm. "Uh, to be honest, I don''t really keep track of all those rankings," he confessed. "Is Veteran considered high?"


    Bill''s face lit up like the New Light Festival decorations outside. "Oh man, do I have a lot to teach you!" he exclaimed. "Okay, so let''s start from the beginning. The first rank is Novice, right?"


    Red let out a dramatic groan that could rival the most petulant teenager. "Oh great, here we go. Another lecture. Just what this pizza party needed."


    Ignoring Red''s protests, Bill forged ahead with his explanation, his words tumbling out in a rush of excitement. "After Novice, you''ve got Adept, then Elite, and then Veteran."


    Blue, his interest piqued, chimed in. "Interesting. So Veteran is the fourth tier? That does indeed sound like high praise, Angelo."


    Bill nodded enthusiastically, nearly knocking over his glass of soda in the process. "Absolutely! There are eight ranks in total. The first four are considered the lower tiers, and the last four are where things really get intense. Veteran is the highest of the lower ranks. After that, you''re in the big leagues, starting with Arch rank."


    Angelo''s eyes glazed over slightly, his mind drifting to Albert''s assessment of his abilities. "Right, I suppose that is pretty impressive," he muttered, remembering that his powers were always about half as strong as they should be.


    Undeterred by Angelo''s lack of enthusiasm, Bill continued his impromptu lesson, his voice filled with the passion of a true enthusiast. "Then comes Master rank, followed by Enlightened rank."


    Red perked up at this, his interest momentarily overcoming his disdain for the lecture. "Hey, we just learned about that one, didn''t we?" he interjected.


    Blue raised an eyebrow, his analytical mind already working on the implications. "Indeed, but I''m curious. I had assumed Enlightened would be the pinnacle, given its association with the actual Enlightened individuals. It''s said that Aurons of Enlightened rank can rival true members of the ES in terms of power."


    A knowing smirk played across Bill''s face, reminiscent of Red''s earlier mischievous grin. "Ah, but what if I told you there''s something even beyond that?" he said, clearly relishing the moment. "There''s one more level ¨C the stuff of legends, literally. It''s the Legendary rank!"


    Angelo''s irritation was palpable, but he held his tongue, his fingers absently tracing patterns in the condensation on his glass. Bill, oblivious to Angelo''s discomfort, pressed on, his voice filled with awe.


    "They say that Lu-Min, the founder of Luminia, was a Legendary Auron," Bill said, his eyes shining with admiration.


    Blue tilted his head thoughtfully, his analytical mind already processing this new information. "Interesting. We had always assumed that was more of a figurative description ¨C that she was simply an Auron of great renown, not necessarily that she belonged to a specific ''Legendary'' classification."


    As the conversation lulled, Angelo turned his attention back to his pizza, savoring each bite in silence. Red, having lost his audience for his antics, settled back contentedly, basking in the secondhand enjoyment of Angelo''s meal. The pizzeria buzzed with the chatter of other patrons and the sizzle of fresh pies in the oven.


    Blue, ever observant, noticed Bill''s lingering excitement about the ranking system. He leaned forward, his voice gentle with curiosity. "Bill, you seem quite enthusiastic about the Auron rankings. Is there a particular reason behind your interest?"


    Bill''s cheeks flushed slightly as he glanced down at the table, suddenly self-conscious. "Well," he began, his voice a mix of embarrassment and barely contained excitement, "I''m actually a huge fan of Pro Aurons. There are these amazing tournaments where they compete, and it''s absolutely thrilling to watch. The divisions are all based on the ranking system - you''ve got your Novice division, Adept division, and so on, all the way up to Arch division."


    Angelo, who had been silently brooding over his pizza, finally spoke up. His voice carried a hint of sarcasm as he asked, "What, they don''t have divisions for the Master to Legendary ranks?"


    Blue shot Angelo a quick, concerned glance, noting the underlying bitterness in his tone.


    Bill, either missing or choosing to ignore Angelo''s sarcasm, eagerly continued his explanation. "Well, Legendary Aurons are incredibly rare," he said, his eyes shining with admiration. "And to be honest, Aurons at that level are just too powerful for regular competitions. I can''t imagine they''d be interested in fighting for entertainment. Although," he added, his voice dropping to an awed whisper, "it would be absolutely mind-blowing to see."


    Red, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, suddenly perked up. A wicked grin spread across his face as he chimed in, "Oh man, can you imagine the carnage? Now that''s my kind of show!"


    Bill, emboldened by the conversation, turned to Angelo with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. "So, Angelo, what''s your rank?"


    Angelo met Bill''s gaze, his expression hardening. After a moment of tense silence, he responded flatly, "I don''t have one."


    Bill''s eyes widened in shock, his jaw dropping. "Wait, what? Are you saying you''ve never taken the ACE test?"


    Angelo turned away, his gaze fixing on a point in the distance. "Never saw the need," he muttered. "A rank doesn''t change what I can do in the field."


    Bill''s voice dropped to a near-whisper, as if he was sharing a secret. "But... don''t you know about the perks? We just found out today that your rank can affect your salary."


    Red''s reaction was instant and explosive. He leapt to his feet; his eyes wide with disbelief. "Hold up, what?! You''re telling me we could be making more money?"


    Angelo reached out and forcefully pulled Red back into his seat, his face a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance. "Sit down and be quiet," he hissed. "It doesn''t matter. We''re not exactly prime candidates for a high rank."


    Bill looked at Angelo with a mixture of confusion and awe. "But why not? You''re always taking down criminals. Surely you''d at least make Adept rank."


    Angelo slumped back in his seat, fatigue etched into every line of his face. "It''s not that simple," he sighed. "Look, let''s use non-Aurons as an example. Most people don''t work out regularly, right? Only a small percentage actually hit the gym consistently. Those dedicated bodybuilders could easily overpower the average person."


    Bill nodded slowly, trying to follow Angelo''s logic.


    "Now, think about the Auron community," Angelo continued. "Most Aurons are content with the natural boost their aura provides. They don''t push themselves further. Someone like me, who actively trains and fights, might seem impressive compared to them. But when you look at Aurons who really dedicate themselves to training?" He paused, his voice dropping low. "I''m probably at the bottom of the barrel."


    The weight of Angelo''s words settled over the table, heavy with implications. The bustling atmosphere of the pizzeria seemed to fade into the background as the reality of Angelo''s situation sank in. His unique condition, while granting him extraordinary abilities, also served as a limitation, holding him back from reaching his full potential.


    As the conversation about Auron rankings died down, an uneasy silence fell over the group. Angelo''s face was a mask of conflicted emotions, his eyes distant as he absently toyed with the crust of his half-eaten pizza.


    Suddenly, a distant boom echoed through the air, causing the windows of Pizza Zap to rattle slightly. The chatter in the pizzeria died down as patrons looked around in confusion.


    Angelo was on his feet in an instant, his posture tense. "That wasn''t thunder," he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he gazed out the window.


    Another boom followed, louder this time. The sounds of distant screams began to filter through the evening air. The other diners in the pizzeria began to murmur nervously, some moving towards the windows to see what was happening.

 11.1. The Infernian Assault

    The tranquil evening in Novaria''s bustling town square shattered like glass as screams pierced the air. Panicked citizens scattered in all directions, their faces contorted with fear. Inside the quaint pizzeria, wide-eyed employees ushered customers towards the relative safety of the kitchen, their voices urgent and strained.


    A young waitress, her uniform splattered with tomato sauce, approached Angelo and Bill. Her eyes were wide with panic, darting between them and the chaos outside. "For the love of all that''s holy, you four need to get to safety!" she pleaded not noticing the bizarre scene in front of her, her voice cracking with fear. "The kitchen, now!"


    Angelo''s eyes narrowed, his posture shifting from relaxed to alert in an instant. He turned to Bill, his voice low and steady, but with an undercurrent of steel. "Bill, I need you to head to the kitchen. I''m going to assess the situation."


    Bill''s face hardened, a look of determination replacing his initial shock. He squared his shoulders, meeting Angelo''s gaze unflinchingly. "With all due respect, sir, that''s not happening," he said, his voice firm. "I didn''t sign up for this program to cower while others are in danger. I''m coming with you, come hell or high water."


    A ghost of a smile flickered across Angelo''s face, pride and concern warring in his eyes. "Brave words, rookie," he said, his tone softening slightly. "But bravery without caution is just foolishness. You stay behind me, follow my lead, and don''t so much as breathe without my say-so. Clear?"


    Bill nodded sharply, his voice filled with resolve. "Crystal clear, sir. Lead the way."


    They burst out of the pizzeria, the cool evening air carrying the acrid scent of destruction. The once-vibrant square had transformed into a scene of apocalyptic chaos. Three Aurons, their auras pulsing with malevolent energy, tore through the area like vengeful deities. Shops crumbled, stalls splintered, and the ground was littered with debris and, more horrifyingly, the broken bodies of innocent bystanders.


    Angelo''s aura exploded to life, a fierce orange inferno that matched the fury in his eyes. Beside him, Bill stood frozen, his face ashen as he took in the carnage.


    Blue materialized next to them, his usual calm demeanor strained. "Bill," he said softly, placing his hand on the young officer''s shoulder. "I know it''s overwhelming, but we need you focused. Activate your aura. If we''re ambushed, you''ll need every ounce of protection you can muster."


    Bill nodded mechanically, his light brown aura flickering to life. His eyes, once a warm brown, now glowed with an otherworldly light.


    One of the Aurons, his voice dripping with hatred, shouted across the square. "Feast your eyes, Luminian scum!" he roared, his face twisted in a grotesque sneer. "This is but a taste of the reckoning that awaits you! Soon, Luminia will crumble, and Infernia will reclaim what was stolen!"


    With a cruel laugh that echoed off the ruined buildings, he unleashed a bolt of lightning that struck a nearby shop. The explosion sent debris flying in all directions, the shockwave rattling windows for blocks.


    Angelo and Bill crouched behind an overturned fruit cart, the smell of singed fruit mingling with the smoky scent of destruction. Angelo''s eyes glowed as he used his energy vision to assess their foes. His face darkened as he processed what he saw.


    "Infernian terrorists," he muttered, his voice tight with barely contained rage. "And they''re no garden-variety thugs. These bastards mean business."


    Suddenly, five officers from the Auron division arrived on the scene, their auras blazing. "In the name of Luminia, stand down!" one of them bellowed, his voice carrying across the square. "You''re surrounded, outnumbered, and out of options!"


    The Infernian Aurons, far from intimidated, gathered in a tight formation. Their eyes gleamed with malicious anticipation, like predators sizing up their prey.


    Red materialized next to Angelo, his usual mischievous demeanor replaced by a cold fury. "Angelo, we can''t just sit here with our thumbs up our asses," he hissed, his fists clenching and unclenching. "Let''s show these Infernian dogs what happens when they bring their fight to our doorstep!"


    Angelo bit his lip, conflict evident in his eyes. "Damn it, Red, you know we can''t," he said, the words seeming to physically pain him. "We''re still suspended, or did you conveniently forget that little detail?"


    Bill''s eyes widened in disbelief. "Hold up," he gasped, looking between Angelo and Red. "You''re suspended? Since when? And why the hell are we out here if that''s the case?"


    Red rounded on Angelo, his face twisted with rage. "Are you fucking kidding me right now?" he snarled, gesticulating wildly at the chaos around them. "Open your eyes, Angelo! The city''s burning, innocent people are dying, and you''re worried about some bureaucratic bullshit? Where''s your sense of justice now, ''Angel of Death''?!"


    Angelo looked torn, his gaze shifting to Blue. The calmer entity shook his head slightly. "I can''t make this choice for you, Angelo," he said softly, his voice tinged with sadness. "If you choose to fight, I''ll be right there beside you. But if you decide to wait, I''ll understand that too. Perhaps the officers can handle this. Whatever you decide, we''re with you."Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    As Angelo grappled with his decision, the battle erupted in full force. The Infernian lightning Auron unleashed a barrage of crackling bolts, forcing the officers to dodge and weave. Those who leapt upwards found themselves buffeted by powerful gusts from the Infernian wind Auron, sending them crashing to the ground with bone-jarring force.


    The third Infernian Auron, his muscles rippling beneath his clothes, charged at the downed officers like a rampaging bull. One managed to roll away at the last second, but another wasn''t so lucky. The force of the punch sent him flying into the wall of a nearby shop, the brickwork crumbling around his limp form.


    "Force aura," Angelo muttered, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed the brutish Auron''s movements. "Reminds me of someone..."


    Blue''s voice was grim. "This is far from an ideal matchup. We''re at a significant disadvantage here."


    Red, however, wasn''t deterred. His eyes gleamed with a mix of excitement and bloodlust. "Disadvantage, my ass! We can take these clowns if we play it smart. Come on, Angelo, where''s that tactical genius of yours?"


    Angelo hesitated for a moment longer before nodding sharply. "Alright, we''re going in," he said, his voice filled with resolve. He turned to Bill, whose face was a mix of fear and determination. "Bill, what''s your aura type? Bill? Bill! Don''t tell me you''re out already."


    Bill, startled out of his daze, stammered, "N-no sir! It''s wind. Like that one..." He gestured towards the Infernian wind Auron, who was currently sending an officer flying with a concentrated blast of air.


    Angelo nodded, his mind already formulating a plan. "Good. That could be useful. Here''s what you''re going to do: stay back and provide support. If you see an opening to throw them off balance, take it. But your primary objective is keeping yourself in one piece, got it? No heroics."


    Blue interjected, his tone urgent. "Angelo, I have a strategy that might tip the odds in our favor. But it''s risky, and we''ll need perfect coordination."


    Angelo met Blue''s gaze, his eyes hard. "I''m all ears, Blue. But let''s get one thing straight: these bastards crossed a line. Whatever we do, they''re not walking away from this."


    Red''s grin was feral, his teeth gleaming in the chaotic light of the battle. "Music to my ears! Let''s make them regret ever setting foot in our city!"


    Blue sighed, his expression pained. "I understand your anger, Angelo, but think for a moment. We need them alive. If you kill them, the consequences will be severe. They might have information that could prevent future attacks. We need to be smart about this."


    Angelo paused, conflict evident on his face. Finally, he growled, "Fine. But I''m going to make sure they feel every ounce of pain they''ve inflicted today. What''s your plan, Blue?"


    Blue nodded, his expression serious. "Here''s the plan: Red and I will initially draw the attention of the Force Auron. He seems to be their heaviest hitter. Red will provoke him and lead him away. Once they''re at a safe distance, Red will turn to smoke form and rejoin you, Angelo."


    Angelo''s brow furrowed. "And then what?"


    Blue continued, "I''ll stay behind and keep the Force Auron occupied. While I''m distracting him, you, Red, and the remaining officers will focus on subduing the other two. Once they''re dealt with, we''ll regroup to take down the Force Auron together."


    Red''s eyes lit up with mischievous glee. "Oh, this is going to be fun. I get to play bait and then join the main fight? It''s like two presents in one!"


    Angelo looked skeptical. "Are you sure you can handle that brute on your own, Blue?"


    Blue''s lips curved into a small, confident smile. "I may not match him in raw power, but I believe I can evade him long enough for you to finish the others. Remember, I don''t need to beat him, just keep him busy."


    Angelo considered the plan, then nodded. "It''s risky, but it might just work. How are you going to get his attention?"


    Blue''s smile widened slightly. "Leave that to Red. If there''s one thing he excels at, it''s being irritating."


    "Hey!" Red protested, before grinning. "Actually, no, that''s fair. I''ll make that oversized grape so mad he won''t be able to see straight."


    As the remaining officers regrouped, forming a ragged defensive line against the relentless Infernian assault, Angelo rose to his feet. His aura blazed around him like a furious inferno, casting dancing shadows across the ruined square. With a powerful leap that cracked the pavement beneath him, he landed in front of the beleaguered officers, his eyes locked on the Infernian terrorists.


    "Well, well," the force Auron sneered, his muscles rippling as he sized up Angelo. "Looks like we''ve got ourselves a wannabe hero. Come to join your friends in the grave, little man?"


    The wind Auron''s eyes roved over Angelo appreciatively, a predatory gleam in her gaze. "My, my, what a handsome face," she purred, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "It''s almost a shame we''ll have to rearrange it. Almost."


    One of the officers behind Angelo let out a relieved sigh. "I can''t believe I''m saying this but... Thank the cosmos you''re here, Angelo," he said, his voice strained but grateful. "We were about to become Infernian target practice."


    Without turning, Angelo acknowledged him, his voice low and determined. "Glad to see you''re still breathing, Jack. Now let''s make sure it stays that way." Then, his voice dropping to a deadly calm, he addressed the Infernian Aurons. "Listen closely, because I''m only going to say this once. You''re staring into the face of your own demise. You have one chance ¨C one ¨C to surrender and atone for your crimes. Otherwise?" His lips curled into a grim smile that didn''t reach his eyes. "Well, let''s just say I''m hoping you choose the second option."


    The Infernians burst into raucous laughter, their faces twisted with cruel mirth. "Oh, this is rich!" the lightning Auron chortled, wiping a mock tear from his eye. "The little Luminian lapdog thinks he can play with the big boys!"


    The wind Auron''s laughter subsided into a predatory grin that sent chills down Bill''s spine. "He is rather adorable, isn''t he?" she purred, her eyes never leaving Angelo. "I do so enjoy breaking the pretty ones."


    The force Auron''s massive frame shook with laughter, the ground trembling slightly beneath his feet. "Adorable indeed. Shorty here playing at being a hero. This''ll be over before it even begins."


    Suddenly, Bill''s voice rang out from his hiding place, indignation overriding his caution. "You arrogant morons!" he shouted, his face flushed with anger and a hint of fear. "Do you have any idea who you''re dealing with? That''s the Angel of Death himself! You''re not just screwed, you''re already six feet under!"


    Realizing his mistake, Bill clapped a hand over his mouth and ducked back into cover, muttering curses under his breath. Angelo closed his eyes for a moment, frustration etched on his face at the blown cover.


    The lightning Auron''s laughter redoubled, echoing off the ruined buildings. "Oh, this is too much!" he wheezed, clutching his sides. "The ''Angel of Death'' comes with his own little cheerleader! How precious!"


    Angelo''s eyes snapped open, his gaze burning with an intensity that could melt steel. When he spoke, his voice was cold enough to freeze fire. "You''ve made your choice, then," he said, each word dripping with deadly promise. "Don''t say I didn''t warn you. Prepare to face judgment..."

 11.2. The Infernian Assault

    The lightning Auron''s aura crackled dangerously, matching Angelo''s ferocity. Arcs of electricity danced between his fingertips as his face twisted into a snarl. "Enough of this farce," he growled, his voice like rolling thunder. "Time to send you to meet whatever pitiful god you worship, Luminian dog."


    In that instant, Red materialized behind the force Auron, delivering a swift kick to his rear that would have felled a lesser man. The massive Auron stumbled forward, more surprised than hurt, his face a comical mix of shock and outrage. Red leapt back with inhuman agility, landing beside Blue on a nearby rooftop.


    "Hey there, big guy!" Red called out, his face split in a manic grin. "Nice muscles! Compensating for something, are we? Maybe a little shortcoming in the brain department?"


    The force Auron''s aura flared a deep purple, a vein throbbing dangerously in his forehead. "You miserable little insect," he growled, his voice dripping with venom. "What manner of freak show reject are you supposed to be?"


    Red''s laughter echoed across the square, high and mocking. "Aww, is the big bad Auron getting his feelings hurt? Don''t strain yourself trying to come up with a comeback, buddy. We wouldn''t want you to pull something important... if there''s anything important left to pull, that is!"


    He paused for a moment, his eyes gleaming with mischief, before adding, "You know, with that purple face and those bulging muscles, you''re looking more and more like an angry bunch of grapes. What''s the matter, Grape Ape? Feeling a little pressed?"


    The force Auron''s face contorted with rage, his muscles bulging even more prominently. "I''ll crush you like the insignificant pest you are!" he roared, his voice shaking with fury.


    Red''s grin only widened. "Ooh, struck a nerve, did I? Don''t get your stems in a twist now. Come on, you overgrown fruit basket, let''s see if you can catch me!"


    With a powerful leap that shattered the pavement beneath him, the force Auron launched himself at Red and Blue. The two entities used their energy tendrils with balletic grace, propelling themselves away in a dizzying display of aerial acrobatics. They leapt from building to building, always staying just out of reach, with the enraged Auron in hot pursuit.


    "That''s right, you overgrown turnip!" Red''s voice echoed back, dripping with gleeful mockery. "Follow the bouncing smartass! Bet you can''t catch me!"


    "Red, perhaps antagonizing him further isn''t the wisest-" Blue''s admonition was cut short as they narrowly dodged a chunk of masonry hurled by the pursuing Auron.


    "You insolent little shits!" the force Auron bellowed, his voice shaking windows. "When I get my hands on you, you''ll be begging for death!"


    As Red and Blue led the force Auron on a merry chase across the rooftops, the battle in the square reached a fever pitch.


    "That hot-headed fool," the lightning Auron muttered, his eyes narrowing as he watched his comrade disappear into the maze of buildings. But before he could turn his attention back to Angelo, a orange blur was all he saw before a devastating blow connected with his stomach-area. The impact sent him flying backward, his body carving a deep furrow in the ground as he skidded to a stop.


    Angelo pressed his advantage, leaping high into the air with his fist cocked back for another punishing blow. But a powerful gust of wind from the female Auron caught him mid-leap, sending him tumbling through the air like a leaf in a hurricane.


    "Ah ah ah," she cooed, wagging a finger as if scolding a naughty child. "Didn''t your mother ever teach you it''s rude to ignore a lady? I''m not done playing with you yet, handsome."


    Angelo righted himself mid-air with a burst of energy, landing in a three-point crouch that cracked the pavement beneath him. He fixed the wind Auron with a piercing glare, his orange eyes burning with intensity.


    She merely smiled wider, a predatory gleam in her eyes. "Ooh, I just love those scary faces you make," she giggled, her voice a disconcerting mix of playful and menacing. "Come on, sugar, don''t disappoint me now. Show me what the big, bad ''Angel of Death'' can really do!"


    Without warning, she unleashed a barrage of condensed air waves at him, each one capable of slicing through steel. Though invisible to the naked eye, Angelo''s energy vision highlighted the rushing winds, allowing him to dance between the deadly currents with preternatural grace.


    "Is that all you''ve got?" Angelo taunted, his voice steady despite the exertion. "I''ve felt stronger breezes from a desk fan!"


    The wind Auron''s playful demeanor cracked for a moment, revealing a flash of genuine anger. "Oh, honey," she purred, her voice dropping an octave, "I''m just getting warmed up!"


    Meanwhile, the lightning Auron had struggled to his feet, his face contorted with rage and humiliation. Electricity arced across his body in violent, unpredictable patterns as he lunged at Angelo with a roar of fury.


    "You uppity little pissant!" he snarled, his voice crackling with power. "I''ll fry every last nerve in your body!"


    But before he could connect, a wall of earth erupted between them. Jack, his arms encased in rocky gauntlets, stood defiantly beside his improvised barrier.


    "Not on my watch, spark plug," Jack growled, his voice strained but determined.


    The lightning Auron''s fist connected with the earthen wall, sending cracks spider-webbing through its surface but failing to break through entirely. "You think this pebble can stop me?" he laughed, mad glee in his eyes. "I''ll reduce it to sand, and you with it!"


    As the lightning Auron focused his assault on Jack''s barrier, Angelo seized the opportunity. He charged towards the wind Auron, zigzagging to avoid her attacks. Just as he was about to reach her, he feinted left, then dropped low, sweeping her legs out from under her with a low kick.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    The wind Auron, caught off guard, began to fall. But even as she descended, she managed to unleash a powerful gust that sent both of them flying in opposite directions.


    Angelo crashed through the remnants of a market stall, wood splintering around him. He rolled to his feet, shaking off the impact, only to find himself face-to-face with the lightning Auron, who had finally broken through Jack''s defenses.


    "No more games," the lightning Auron growled, his body crackling with barely contained power. "Time to end this!"


    He thrust both hands forward, unleashing a devastating beam of pure lightning that illuminated the entire square with its blinding radiance. Angelo, caught flat-footed, had no time to dodge.


    In that split second, as the lightning raced towards him, time seemed to slow to a crawl. Angelo could feel the hair on his arms standing on end, could smell the ozone in the air. This was it, he thought. This was how it ended.


    But then, a blur of motion caught his eye. Bill, his face set with determination, had leapt from his hiding place. With a cry of effort, he thrust his hands forward, summoning a powerful gust of wind that slammed into Angelo from the side, pushing him out of the lightning''s path at the last possible moment.


    The lightning blast streaked past, missing Angelo by mere inches. It struck a nearby building, the resulting explosion sending debris raining down across the square.


    Angelo hit the ground hard, rolling to absorb the impact. As he came to a stop, he looked up to see Bill standing there, his chest heaving with exertion, a mix of fear and pride on his face.


    "Nice save, rookie," Angelo managed, a ghost of a smile on his lips.


    Bill''s answering grin was shaky but genuine. "Just returning the favor, sir."


    Their moment of relief was short-lived, however. The lightning Auron let out a bellow of frustration, his aura flaring to new heights of intensity.


    "Enough of this!" he roared, his voice barely human. Arcs of electricity began to dance wildly around his body, growing larger and more violent with each passing second. "I''ll reduce this entire square to ashes, and you with it!"


    Angelo''s eyes widened as he used his energy vision to assess the situation. The amount of power the Auron was gathering was staggering, far beyond anything he''d encountered before.


    "He''s going all out," Angelo muttered, his mind racing for a solution.


    As if in answer to his thoughts, Red''s voice suddenly echoed in his mind, urgent and excited. "Angelo! I''ve got an idea, but we need to move fast. We need to hit him with everything we''ve got, right now!"


    "Are you insane?" Angelo thought back, even as he began to gather his own energy. "You heard Albert. My power is always cut in half. We can''t match a normal Auron in raw power, let alone this maniac!"


    Red''s response was tinged with desperation and a manic sort of glee. "Trust me on this one! This guy''s tough, sure, but he''s no elite. Together, we''re at 75%, right? That should be enough to at least stall him. We don''t have time to argue!"


    Feeling the urgency in Red''s thoughts and seeing no other option, Angelo made his decision. "Alright, let''s do this. But if we die, I''m going to kill you."


    "That''s the spirit!" Red laughed in his mind.


    They took up position, each extending a hand behind them. Two orbs of energy ¨C one red, one orange ¨C began to form, slowly merging into a swirling vortex of unstable power that grew larger with each passing second. The air around them began to warp and distort from the sheer energy they were gathering.


    The lightning Auron, seeing their preparations, let out a laugh that bordered on hysteria. "You think you can challenge ME?" he roared, his voice barely audible over the crackling of his own power. "ENOUGH! DIE, YOU MISERABLE INSECTS!"


    He thrust both hands forward, and all the electricity he had amassed converged at a single point before his palms. With a sound like booming thunder at point blank, a blinding beam of pure lightning erupted towards Angelo and Red, so bright it turned night to day.


    They responded in kind, bringing their hands forward in perfect unison. "You want power?" they shouted as one, their voices melding into a single, powerful roar that shook the very foundations of the square. "THEN TAKE THIS! ENERGY WAVE!"


    The unstable orb of mixed energy followed the path of their hands, erupting into a beam of swirling orange and red that met the lightning Auron''s attack head-on. The two forces collided in a cataclysmic explosion of light and sound, sending arcs of energy and lightning dancing across the ruined square. Windows shattered for blocks around, and the very air seemed to vibrate with the intensity of the clash.


    As the two attacks pushed against each other, Angelo felt himself being driven back, his feet carving furrows in the ground. "This isn''t working!" he growled through gritted teeth, sweat beading on his brow from the effort. "What now, genius?"


    Red''s response was maddeningly calm. "Now, I''m going to let go, and you''re going to hold him off on your own for a second."


    Angelo''s eyes widened in disbelief. "Have you lost your mind?" he shouted, both aloud and in his thoughts. "We''re barely holding on together! How am I supposed to do this alone?"


    "Just trust me!" Red insisted, his voice filled with an excitement that bordered on mania. "Push harder! Ready... Now!"


    Before Angelo could protest further, Red''s presence vanished, transforming into smoke and reintegrating with Angelo''s body. The full force of the lightning Auron''s attack slammed into Angelo, driving him back even further. His feet carved deep trenches in the ground as he struggled to hold his position, the edge of the lightning beam inching closer with each passing second.


    "Is this it?" Angelo thought, his arms trembling with the effort of maintaining the energy wave. "Is this how it ends?"


    But Red wasn''t done. His smoky form erupted from Angelo''s back, unnoticed by the distracted Infernians, and streaked towards the lightning Auron like a crimson comet. In an instant, Red materialized behind their opponent, wrapping his arms and legs around the surprised Auron in a full-body grapple.


    The effect was immediate and dramatic. The pressure on Angelo''s energy wave lessened significantly, allowing him to push back against the lightning beam. The Infernian Auron struggled violently, trying to shake off Red while maintaining his attack, but his concentration was shattered.


    "Get off me, you son of a bitch!" he roared, electricity arcing wildly around his body in chaotic, destructive patterns.


    Red''s laughter was manic, filled with a joy that bordered on madness. "Oh? If I''m a son of a bitch, that makes me a dog, right?" Without warning, he sank his teeth into the Auron''s ear, eliciting a howl of pain and rage that echoed across the devastated square.


    "I''LL KILL YOU!" the lightning Auron screamed, his attack faltering as he tried to pry Red off his back.


    Angelo, seeing his chance, knew he had to end this now. With a scream and a final, mighty push that sent pain lancing through every fiber of his being, he poured every last ounce of his will to draw more energy into the beam. The energy wave surged forward, growing in size and intensity as it overtook the lightning.


    In the split second before impact, Angelo saw the lightning Auron''s eyes widen in disbelief and fear. Then, the energy wave engulfed both Red and the Infernian Auron in a blinding explosion that sent vibrations throughout the ground.


    As the dust began to settle, revealing the extent of the devastation, Angelo fell to one knee, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Through bleary eyes, he saw the lightning Auron lying unconscious amidst the rubble, his ear a mangled mess where Red had bitten it. Red''s physical form had been destroyed in the blast, his essence retreating to Angelo in a wisp of crimson smoke.


    Nearby, Jack stood victorious over the fallen wind Auron, his rocky fists stained with blood and a look of grim satisfaction on his face.


    But this wasn''t over, not yet...

 11.3. The Infernian Assault

    The acrid smell of ozone hung heavy in the air as Angelo and Jack allowed themselves a brief moment of respite. Their chests heaved with exertion, bodies battered but spirits unbroken. The unconscious forms of the lightning and wind Aurons lay at their feet, a testament to their hard-won victory.


    However, their relief was short-lived. Blue''s voice, tinged with urgency, echoed in Angelo''s mind. "Well done, you two," he commended, his tone a mixture of pride and concern. "But I''m afraid our work here isn''t finished just yet."


    Across the devastated town square, Blue was engaged in a deadly dance with the remaining Infernian threat - the force Auron. The brute''s massive fists shattered the ground with each missed strike, sending tremors through the ruined landscape.


    "Stand still, you slippery little rat!" the force Auron bellowed, his face contorted with rage. His purple aura pulsed violently, each flare leaving cracks in the nearby buildings.


    Blue, his form flickering in and out of corporeality, nimbly avoided another earth-shattering punch. "Perhaps you should work on your aim," he retorted, his calm voice a stark contrast to the chaos around him. "Or is it that your muscles have overtaken what little brain you had to begin with?"


    Angelo''s brow furrowed as he observed the exchange through their shared consciousness. "Why are you goading him like that?" he thought back to Blue. "You''re only going to make him more dangerous."


    Blue''s response came swiftly, laced with a hint of strain. "I can handle this brute''s temper tantrums. The angrier he gets, the sloppier his attacks become." There was a pause, and when Blue continued, there was a note of concern in his mental voice. "However, his attacks are creating shockwaves that are slowly eroding my form. I''m afraid I won''t be able to keep this up much longer."


    Angelo nodded grimly, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Got it," he replied. "I just needed to catch my breath. Red is out of commission, but Jack and maybe Bill can still help. We''ll be there soon."


    Turning his attention back to the physical world, Angelo deactivated his aura, allowing his body a moment to recover. He surveyed the area, noting the destruction that had befallen the once-peaceful square. Debris littered the ground, and the air was thick with dust and the lingering energy of their recent battle.


    "Alright, listen up," Angelo addressed Jack and Bill, his voice carrying the weight of command. "Blue''s holding off that brute, but he can''t keep it up forever. We need to move."


    Jack, his earth aura flickering off, nodded in grim agreement. "No time to waste," he said, his voice tight with urgency. "That monster took out two of my squad with one hit. We can''t afford to lose anyone else."


    Bill, the rookie wind Auron, stepped forward. His uniform was torn and dirty, but his eyes blazed with determination. "I... I don''t know how much help I''ll be with just my wind," he admitted, a tremor in his voice betraying his nervousness. "But I''ll do whatever I can, boss!" The respect in his voice was palpable, clearly influenced by the recent confrontation with the Infernian Aurons and Red''s last-ditch effort, which must have seemed like a stroke of genius to the young officer.


    Angelo allowed himself a small, approving smirk. "That''s the spirit. Now, let''s move¡ª"


    His words were cut short as new figures entered the scene. Chief Ramirez strode into view, his face a thundercloud of anger. He was accompanied by several officers who immediately began tending to the injured civilians and fallen comrades scattered around the square.


    "What in blazes is going on here?" Chief Ramirez bellowed, his face flushing an alarming shade of red. "I want answers, and I want them now!" His furious gaze locked onto Angelo and Jack. "And you," he spat, jabbing a finger at Angelo. "You''re supposed to be suspended! Yet here you are, right in the middle of this mess!"


    Bill tensed visibly, fear etched across his features. Angelo straightened, meeting the Chief''s gaze unflinchingly. "Sir, I can explain¡ª" he began, but Jack swiftly interjected.


    "Chief," Jack''s voice rang out, firm and resolute. "My squad and I engaged the enemy forces as per protocol. Angelo only stepped in after my team was overwhelmed. Without him, this could have been much worse."


    The Chief''s gaze swept over to the two remaining conscious members of Jack''s squad. They nodded vigorously, backing up their leader''s account. Chief Ramirez''s expression softened marginally, the fire in his eyes dimming ever so slightly.


    In that moment, Red''s voice echoed in Angelo''s mind, urgent and tinged with frustration. "Angelo, we don''t have time for this bureaucratic bullshit. Blue needs us, now!"


    Seizing the momentary lull, Angelo spoke up. "Sir, I understand your concerns, but we''re not done here. There''s still one more Infernian terrorist out there, and Blue''s keeping him busy. We need to take him down before he does any more damage."


    Chief Ramirez paused; conflict evident in his eyes as he glanced towards the other two incapacitated Infernians. After what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his voice heavy with resignation. "Fine. I''ll let this slide for now. But don''t think for a second we''re done here, Angelo."


    Angelo nodded, determination blazing in his eyes as his aura flared to life once more, bathing him in a brilliant orange glow. He turned to Jack and Bill, who mirrored his actions, their own auras springing forth. "Let''s go," he commanded, and the three of them sprinted towards the ongoing battle, leaving behind a visibly conflicted Chief Ramirez.


    As they approached the epicenter of the destruction, they took cover to assess the situation and formulate a strategy. Jack, ever the tactician, began to outline what they knew about their formidable opponent.


    "Alright, here''s what we''re up against," Jack stated, his voice low and serious. "Force Aurons are known for their insane offense and defense."


    Bill nodded eagerly, his earlier fear giving way to a mix of excitement and nervousness at being included in such a high-stakes operation. "But they''ve got to have a weakness, right?" he asked, his voice hopeful. "Something we can use against him?"


    Jack nodded approvingly at the rookie''s astute question. "They do," he confirmed. "Their big weakness is long-range attacks. They can''t make projectiles - all their energy goes straight into raw force. That''s why they''re so damn tough up close."


    Bill''s eyes lit up with understanding. "Hold on," he mused aloud, his voice gaining confidence. "We can all do ranged attacks. Doesn''t that give us an edge?"


    Angelo shook his head grimly, tempering the young officer''s enthusiasm. "It''s not that simple," he explained, his voice tinged with frustration. "Yeah, we can hit from a distance, but this guy''s defense is no joke. Small attacks won''t even scratch him. All he needs to do is get in close, and any one of us is toast." Angelo''s expression darkened further. "And if he knows what he''s doing, he can use that force aura to boost his speed. We can''t underestimate him."


    The gravity of Angelo''s words hit Bill hard. "So... what do we do?" he asked, his earlier confidence wavering. "How can we possibly take this guy down?"


    A heavy silence fell over the group as the gravity of their situation sank in. In the background, the sounds of Blue''s evasive maneuvers and the force Auron''s frustrated attacks served as a constant reminder of the ticking clock they faced.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    After a moment of intense contemplation, Angelo spoke up, his tone measured but with an undercurrent of determination. "I might have an idea," he began, careful not to oversell his plan. "It''s risky, but it might be our only shot."


    Jack and Bill leaned in, their faces a mix of hope and apprehension. "Let''s hear it," Jack urged. "What''ve you got in mind?"


    Angelo took a deep breath before outlining his strategy. "We hit him with everything we''ve got, all at once. We need to take him out in one shot. The tricky part is charging up without him noticing. We need to get close, but stay hidden until we''re ready to strike."


    Jack nodded slowly, his mind already working through the logistics. "It''s a long shot," he mused. "But how do we pull it off?"


    Angelo''s eyes gleamed with a mix of determination and uncertainty. "I''ve got one idea, but I''m all ears if you''ve got anything better," he said, turning to Jack. "You''re the Earth Auron. Think you can make a wall to hide us? I''ll charge up behind it, then blast right through when we''re ready."


    Bill''s brow furrowed in confusion. "But Angelo," he interjected, "how will you aim if you can''t see him?"


    A ghost of a smile played across Angelo''s lips. "That''s where Blue comes in," he explained. "He''s out there keeping our target busy. I can sense where he is, clear as day. As long as Blue stays between us and that force Auron, I can use him to line up my shot, even without seeing it directly."


    Jack and Bill exchanged impressed glances, a spark of hope igniting in their eyes. "Well, I''ll be damned," Jack muttered, a hint of admiration in his voice. "That''s not half bad."


    Bill''s enthusiasm bubbled over. "This is awesome!" he exclaimed, his earlier fears all but forgotten. "Let''s do it! We can take this guy!"


    Angelo held up a hand, his expression somber. "Hold on, there''s something you both need to understand," he cautioned, his voice grave. "This plan isn''t foolproof. If it fails, we''ve blown our cover and wasted our chance. To be honest, we might not get another shot at this."


    The weight of Angelo''s words settled over the group, tempering their budding optimism. Jack nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of their situation.


    Suddenly, Jack''s eyes lit up with an idea. He stood up, quickly surveying their surroundings. "I think I see our chance," he said, his voice low but charged with excitement. "There''s a good spot over there for the wall. And look - the big guy''s got his back to it."


    Without waiting for a response, Jack sprang into action. His hand moved in a swift, precise motion, manipulating the earth with practiced ease. In a matter of seconds, a solid earthen wall rose from the ground, effectively closing off a section of the square before the force Auron could notice the change in his surroundings.


    Angelo''s eyebrows shot up in surprise, clearly impressed by Jack''s quick thinking and even quicker action. "Nice work, Jack," he said, a note of admiration in his voice. "That''s given us the cover we need. If you don''t mind, I want to build on that plan. Let''s not put all our eggs in one basket."


    Angelo quickly outlined his strategy. "While I''m charging up my attack behind the wall, you two should prepare your own strikes. Jack, how about a big, dense boulder? And Bill, see if you can compress air for a powerful blast. Once I hit him with my initial attack, he might be off balance. That''s when you two go for his head with your attacks. It''s our best shot at taking him down for good."


    Jack and Bill nodded in agreement, their faces set with determination. "Sounds like a solid plan," Jack affirmed. "Let''s make it happen."


    As one, the three Aurons moved into position behind Jack''s newly erected wall, each focusing intently on their role in the upcoming assault. The air around them crackled with tension and the promise of unleashed power. In the distance, Blue continued his deadly dance with the force Auron, buying them the precious seconds they needed to prepare.


    Angelo began to concentrate, drawing energy into his palms as an orange glow started to form. Jack placed his hands on the ground, slowly but surely compressing the earth into a dense, formidable boulder. Bill held his hands close together, his face scrunched in concentration as he worked to compress the air between his palms into a potent, focused blast.


    The final confrontation was at hand, lives hung in the balance. Angelo, Jack, and Bill steeled themselves for what could be their final, decisive strike against the Infernian threat, their combined attacks poised to unleash devastation upon their unsuspecting foe.


    The air behind Jack''s hastily erected wall crackled with building energy as Angelo, Jack, and Bill prepared their decisive strike. Angelo''s hands glowed with the growing power of his "Energy Bomb," while Jack and Bill strained to compress their respective elements to their utmost density.


    However, the Force Auron''s instincts began to prickle. Something felt off. His eyes darted towards the newly formed wall, catching glimpses of light seeping through its cracks. If he were to attack now, their entire plan would crumble.


    Blue, observing the brute''s growing suspicion, knew he had to act fast. Channeling his inner Red, he called out, his usually calm voice taking on an uncharacteristic taunt, "H-Hey, you overgrown grape! Over here!"


    With a burst of speed, Blue launched himself at the Force Auron, aiming a kick at the brute''s face. But the Infernian was ready. His massive hand shot out, enveloping Blue''s leg in a vice-like grip.


    "Ha ha ha!" the Force Auron bellowed, triumph gleaming in his eyes. "Finally caught you, you little pest. Now, let''s hear those bones shatter!"


    The brute began to squeeze, however, something unexpected happened. Instead of screams of agony, Blue''s leg simply exploded into a shower of azure energy particles. The glowing mist swirled momentarily before rushing towards Angelo''s body behind the nearby wall.


    The Force Auron blinked in confusion, his grip now empty. His gaze fell upon Blue, who was somehow still standing, albeit on one leg. Where the other should have been, there was only a soft blue glow and drifting particles.


    "Wh-what in the hell are you?!" the brute stammered, his confidence shaken for the first time.


    Blue, seizing the opportunity to buy more time, responded with an eerie calm. "I am a ghost, a demon sent from the underworld. Destroy my body, and you''ll be cursed for all eternity."


    The Force Auron''s face flushed with anger, his earlier bravado returning. "You... you take me for a fool?!" he roared. "You''re not even real! I''ve been toyed with by some kind of puppet! When I find your real body, I''ll tear your actual limbs off one by one!"


    "No, no, I assure you, I''m quite real," Blue insisted, a hint of sarcasm creeping into his voice. "A real ghost, honest."


    The brute''s frustration mounted. "Ghosts aren''t real! What kind of idiot do you think I am?!"


    Blue couldn''t resist one last jab. "Well, I believe my red counterpart referred to you as ''an angry bunch of grapes.'' I don''t usually share his sense of humor, but I must admit, that one was rather amusing."


    The Force Auron''s face turned a shade of purple to match his aura, rage consuming him. "You insignificant pissants! DIEEEE!" he bellowed, lunging at Blue with outstretched hands, ready to choke the life out of him.


    Using his energy tendrils and remaining leg, Blue nimbly leaped over the brute, positioning himself between the wall and his attacker. As the Force Auron whirled to face him, Blue transformed into smoke, soaring above the wall.


    In that instant, the earthen barrier shattered. A massive orb of orange energy burst through, slamming into the unsuspecting Force Auron. The resulting explosion sent shockwaves through the ground, rattling windows for blocks around.


    As the dust began to settle, Angelo''s voice rang out, "Now!"


    On cue, Jack and Bill unleashed their attacks. A dense boulder and a compressed air blast struck the dazed Force Auron square in the face, sending him crashing to the ground.


    Bill leaped into the air, his fist raised in triumph. "Alright! We did it!"


    But Blue, materializing on a nearby rooftop, quickly tempered their celebration. "This isn''t over! Attack!"


    True to Blue''s warning, the Force Auron''s purple aura still flickered, though greatly diminished. As he slowly opened his eyes, he found himself surrounded by four determined Aurons, all poised to strike.


    What followed was a relentless barrage of attacks from all sides. Energy blasts, boulders, air cannons. The onslaught was merciless, each hit chipping away at the last vestiges of the Force Auron''s formidable defense.


    When the dust finally settled, the once-mighty Force Auron lay spread-eagled on the shattered pavement. His body was a canvas of bruises and abrasions, his purple aura extinguished. The threat that had seemed so insurmountable mere moments ago now lay defeated, a testament to the power of teamwork and strategic thinking.


    Angelo, Jack, Bill, and Blue gathered around their fallen foe, their chests heaving with exertion but their eyes bright with the light of victory. The battle was over, but as they surveyed the devastated square, they knew that the larger conflict was far from resolved.


    The wail of approaching sirens filled the night air. Blue reintegrated with Angelo as Jack and Bill caught their breath nearby. Around them, the devastated square bore silent witness to the intensity of their battle.


    "Red''s going to be pissed he missed the finale," Angelo muttered, his orange aura fading as he deactivated it. In their shared consciousness, Red''s indignant grumbling confirmed his assessment.


    Bill opened his mouth to speak, but the thundering voice of Chief Ramirez cut through the night air. "Nobody move! I want these Infernians secured immediately!"


    As police units swarmed the area, Angelo exchanged knowing looks with Jack and Bill. There would be consequences to face, reports to file, and questions to answer. But for now, at least, the immediate threat had been neutralized.


    The battle was over, but Angelo couldn''t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something much larger. He kept that thought to himself, however, as the clean-up operation began around them.

 12. The Weight of Duty

    The aftermath of battle lingered in the devastated town square like a heavy fog. Debris littered the ground, and the acrid smell of scorched stone and earth hung in the air. Under the harsh glare of emergency floodlights, Angelo and Jack stood before Chief Ramirez, delivering their report. Though Angelo had shown restraint¡ªchoosing to capture rather than kill the Infernian terrorists¡ªRamirez''s expression remained thunderous, his disapproval evident in every line of his face as police units worked around them to secure the unconscious attackers.


    "So let me get this straight," Ramirez growled, his voice barely containing his anger. "Not only did you directly disobey orders by engaging while suspended, but you dragged a rookie into a life-or-death situation?"


    "With all due respect, sir," Jack interjected, stepping forward. "If Angelo hadn''t intervened when he did, we''d be counting bodies instead of taking statements."


    The chief''s glare could have melted steel. "That''s not the point, and you know it, Jack."


    The questioning seemed to stretch endlessly under the flickering emergency lights, but finally, near midnight¡ªfour hours past their scheduled end time¡ªAngelo and Bill were released. The chief''s final order cut through the night air like a knife: "Angelo, escort Bill home. Make sure he''s recovered from today''s... excitement. And don''t think for a second we''re done discussing this."


    The streets of Novaria had quieted, though evidence of the earlier chaos remained in the occasional debris or scorched wall. Angelo and Bill walked in silence, their footsteps echoing off the buildings. Bill kept stealing glances at his mentor, trying to read the serious expression etched on Angelo''s face, but thought better of interrupting whatever deep contemplation occupied his thoughts.


    They had covered more than half the distance when Angelo finally broke the silence. "How''re you holding up after all that, kiddo?" he asked, his gruff voice softening slightly as he glanced at his young charge. "First time in real combat isn''t easy."


    Bill drew a shaky breath, his shoulders tense as he processed the evening''s events. "I''m..." he started, then swallowed hard. His next words came out stronger, though a slight tremor remained. "I''ll manage. Has to be strong, you know? That''s what being an officer means." He lifted his chin, trying to project more confidence than he felt. "Isn''t that right, boss?"


    Blue materialized beside them in a swirl of azure smoke, his presence no longer startling to Bill. "Strength comes in many forms," he offered, his measured tone carrying quiet wisdom. "Including knowing when to acknowledge that what we''ve witnessed today would shake anyone." His eyes met Bill''s. "You performed admirably under extraordinary circumstances."


    A tentative smile crossed Bill''s face at the praise. Blue studied him thoughtfully before asking, "Though I must admit to some curiosity¡ªwith your evident passion for Pro Aurons, why choose this path? Why not pursue that arena?"


    Red''s derisive voice echoed in their shared consciousness, "Really, Blue? The kid nearly got offed today, and you''re asking about his career choices? Besides, look at him¡ªhe couldn''t hack it as a Pro."


    "That ''kid'' saved our lives tonight," Angelo shot back mentally. "Show some respect."


    Bill''s gaze drifted to the distance, a wistful smile playing on his lips. "The Pro scene..." He shook his head, chuckling softly. "Sure, I''ve dreamed about it. Who hasn''t? But..." His expression grew more serious, his voice taking on a quiet intensity. "My father¡ªhe showed me what real heroism looks like. He was an officer in the Auron division, and watching him..." Bill''s eyes found Angelo''s. "The way you moved tonight, the fury in your eyes when those terrorists hurt innocent people¡ªit was like seeing him again. That same burning need to protect others, to stand against injustice..."


    Angelo looked away, uncharacteristically discomforted by the raw emotion in Bill''s voice. "There''s more to tell about your father, isn''t there?"


    A shadow passed over Bill''s features. "Three years ago," he said softly, each word weighed with grief. "He fell in the line of duty. Mom¡ªshe begged me not to follow the same path. But she understands why I have to. Why I need to carry on what he started."


    The revelation brought a heavy silence. Even Red''s usual snark was subdued. Finally, Blue spoke, his voice gentle, "We know something of loss ourselves, kid."


    Bill looked between them, recognition dawning in his eyes. "You¡ªyour..."


    "Save your sympathy," Angelo cut in, his voice rough. "My situation''s different. Can''t miss what you never knew. Never even met my parents." He quickened his pace slightly, as if trying to outrun the conversation.


    They walked in contemplative silence before Bill spoke again, his voice thoughtful. "I had you all wrong, you know that? The stories about the Angel of Death... they paint you as this heartless executioner. Someone who kills for the thrill of it. But that''s not who you are at all, is it?"


    They approached a modestly-sized house, and Angelo squinted at the nameplate, grateful for the change of subject. "Hold up¡ªDealer? Your last name is Dealer?"


    "Oh, that," Bill said, rubbing his neck sheepishly. "Family legend says my great-great-grandfather was some kind of legendary merchant. I guess you could say it''s not that big of a..." he winced, "...deal."


    "Oh come ON!" Red''s indignant voice boomed in their shared consciousness. "That was MY line!"


    Before they could reach the door, it burst open with enough force to rattle the hinges. A woman rushed out, her face a mask of fear and relief as she enveloped Bill in a fierce embrace. "Oh thank goodness," she breathed, her voice thick with emotion. "When I heard about the attack¡ªwhen they said Auron officers were involved¡ª"If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "Mom, please," Bill wheezed through the crushing hug, "I''m okay. Really. Just need to... breathe..."


    "Tell him something sympathetic," Blue prompted internally. "Show some emotional intelligence for once."


    Suppressing a sigh, Angelo offered, "It''s natural for her to worry, Bill. Tonight was... intense."


    Mrs. Dealer finally released her son, rounding on Angelo with the ferocity of a mother bear. "You''re the mentor?" she demanded, her eyes blazing. "The one who''s supposed to be teaching my son?"


    Angelo straightened, maintaining his composure. "Yes, ma''am. That would be me."


    "Then explain to me," she said, her voice rising with each word, "just what possessed you to let my son participate in a battle with terrorists?"


    "Mom, wait¡ª" Bill started, but she silenced him with a raised hand.


    "Bill Dealer, don''t you dare interrupt me!"


    Angelo drew a measured breath, choosing his words with care. "Ma''am, I gave Bill clear orders to evacuate with the civilians. He chose to stay. Said he hadn''t joined the program to hide when danger threatened the people he''d sworn to protect."


    Her face flushed with fury. "And you LISTENED to him? You''re his superior officer! You''re supposed to be the voice of authority, not enabling his¡ªhis reckless heroics!"


    Angelo met her gaze steadily, and something in his eyes¡ªperhaps the echo of the night''s battles¡ªmade her words falter. "You''re absolutely right," he said, his voice calm but carrying an undercurrent of steel. "I am his superior officer. And I don''t regret my decision for a single moment."


    "How dare you¡ª" she began, but Angelo''s next words stopped her cold.


    "Your son saved my life tonight."


    The declaration hung in the air like a physical thing, heavy with implications. The distant sounds of the city seemed to fade away as mother and son absorbed the weight of those six words.


    Angelo turned to leave, but paused, his voice softening just slightly. "You''ve raised a good kid, Mrs. Dealer. His heart''s exactly where it needs to be."


    His orange aura flared to life, illuminating the night like a sudden sunrise. With a powerful leap, he took to the rooftops, energy tendrils helping him skid from building to building until he disappeared into the darkness, leaving mother and son to process the events of this extraordinary day.


    Through their shared consciousness, Red''s voice drifted up: "Show-off."


    But there was a note of pride in the accusation that even he couldn''t quite hide.


    Across the city, in the police headquarters, fluorescent lights hummed overhead as Chief Ramirez entered his office, their harsh glow casting deep shadows across his weary face.


    Though the midnight hour had come and gone, this matter couldn''t wait until morning¡ªand it demanded absolute privacy.


    Officer Vivian startled at his entrance, nearly dropping the files she''d been organizing. "Sir?" Her voice carried a note of concern. "I wasn''t expecting you at this hour."


    Ramirez''s usually commanding voice had grown soft with exhaustion. "Burning the midnight oil, Vivian?"


    "Are you alright, sir?" she asked, noting the unusual strain in his features.


    He waved off her concern with a heavy hand. "Just watching everything go from bad to worse."


    "The terrorist attack was deeply troubling," Vivian offered, but Ramirez shook his head.


    "And Angelo being there..." He leaned against his desk, shoulders slumping. "As if we needed that complication."


    Recognition flickered across Vivian''s face. "Exactly what you were trying to prevent."


    A bitter smile twisted Ramirez''s features. "It''s worse than that. For some unfathomable reason, he showed restraint this time. Didn''t kill them, though he had every opportunity." He let out a harsh laugh. "And may God help me, but I almost wish he had."


    Vivian''s eyes widened. "Sir?"


    "Think about it," Ramirez explained, running a hand over his face. "This will only boost his public image. Make it that much harder to reform his methods." He straightened suddenly, his expression hardening. "But that''s not why I''m here. Get me the eastern district chief on the line. Immediately."


    "Yes, sir!" Vivian hurried from the office, her footsteps echoing down the empty corridor.


    Minutes later, the phone rang. "Connecting you now, sir."


    A woman''s voice, younger and almost playful, filled the line. "Well, well, if it isn''t Ramirez! What brings you calling at this ungodly hour?"


    Ramirez gripped the phone tighter, forcing patience into his voice. "Chief Lyla, I need to make an urgent request. We need to raise Novaria''s threat level. We need Evolved Aurons¡ª"


    "Funny," she cut in, her tone knowing. "I don''t recall any incidents involving Evolved Aurons in your jurisdiction lately."


    "Chief, there''s been¡ª"


    "A terrorist attack?" The amusement in her voice made his jaw clench. "Oh, I''ve read the report quite thoroughly. Three non-Evolved attackers, subdued primarily by an unranked, un-Evolved eighteen-year-old officer. Hardly justifies what you''re asking."


    The fight seemed to drain from Ramirez. "The details are accurate, yes. And I know this goes against protocol. But if we don''t act now..." His voice dropped to a near-whisper. "I fear something catastrophic is coming."


    "Come now," Lyla chuckled. "You''re talking like Novaria''s about to become the next Outlaw''s Oasis."


    "The next... what?"


    "Outlaw''s Oasis¡ªit''s what they''re calling Geovale''s Rest these days. Do keep up, old man." Her tone grew sharper. "Now that''s a place deserving its high threat level."


    "Sir, with all due respect, I fail to see how the naming conventions of distant regions have any bearing on Novaria''s current security needs¡ª"


    "Perspective, Ramirez." All playfulness had vanished from her voice. "Yes, you took a hit today. But there are other areas in Luminia requiring more attention." She paused, letting her words sink in. "Evolved Aurons are regional assets, primarily reserved for military operations. With tensions rising along the Infernian border, there are none to spare¡ªprotocol or no protocol. I''m sorry, but my hands are tied."


    Ramirez''s face darkened. "So we stand alone."


    "For what it''s worth," Lyla''s voice softened slightly, "I am truly sorry."


    "No..." Ramirez straightened, steel entering his voice. "I understand. If the region can''t provide advanced support, then I''ll make sure my officers are trained harder than ever. We''ll be ready for whatever''s coming."


    "That''s more like it!" The cheerfulness returned to Lyla''s voice. "Now then, goodnight Ramirez. Always a pleasure!"


    The line went dead, leaving Ramirez alone in his dimly lit office. He placed the phone back in its cradle with deliberate care, his movements heavy with the weight of responsibility. Through his window, the lights of Novaria twinkled beneath the midnight sky - the city he''d sworn to protect, now potentially facing threats he couldn''t even request backup for.


    The events of the day played through his mind: the devastating attack, Angelo''s unexpected restraint, and now Lyla''s refusal of support. The pieces were moving, but toward what end? He couldn''t say. Running a tired hand over his face, Ramirez gathered his coat and keys. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, and his officers - Evolved backup or not - would need to be ready.


    As he locked his office door, the empty corridors seemed to echo with the lingering question that had haunted him since the terrorist attack: what force could drive three Infernian Aurons to such a brazen assault on Novaria? And more importantly, were they just the beginning?

 13. Triple Trouble

    The early morning sun filtered through the threadbare curtains of Angelo''s modest apartment, casting long shadows across the cluttered floor. The peaceful silence was shattered by the blaring television, its volume cranked to maximum as Red, ever the instigator, huddled close to the screen with childlike enthusiasm.


    Angelo bolted upright in bed, his hair a disheveled mess and eyes blazing with murderous intent. "For the love of¡ª Red, I swear by everything holy, sometimes I wish you could actually die just so I could have the satisfaction of killing you myself!" The words came out as a guttural growl, thick with sleep and frustration.


    Red, lounging in his materialized form on the worn couch, responded with infuriating calm, a smirk playing at his lips. "Oh, come on now, Angie. If you''re really that desperate to see me dead, there''s a simple solution staring you right in the face." His voice dripped with mock sweetness. "Just do yourself in. After all, you''re the almighty ''Main Body,'' aren''t you? When you go, we all go... or so the theory goes."


    Angelo rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful, slumping back against his pillow. Blue''s voice drifted through their shared consciousness, dry as desert sand, "Well, well... it seems our dear Red has finally come to terms with his permanent role as a supporting character. Should we commemorate this breakthrough in self-awareness?"


    "Why don''t you materialize and say that to my face, Blueberry?" Red shot back internally, his attention fixed on the screen with almost manic intensity.


    Angelo dragged himself into a sitting position, rubbing his bleary eyes. "What''s got you glued to the news at this hour anyway? Since when do you care about the news?"


    A gleam of anticipation lit Red''s eyes. "They should be talking about yesterday''s mess any minute now. No way I''m missing them talking about us kicking those Infernian bastards'' asses!"


    "How curious," Blue''s calm voice held a sharp edge. "You were there for the entire thing, but I suppose the news will offer some groundbreaking insight that escaped your attention?"


    A knowing grin spread across Angelo''s face as realization dawned. "Oh ho, now I get it. Our little Red is dying to hear himself praised. How Adorable."


    Embarrassment colored Red''s face, clashing hilariously with his crimson aura. "S-shut that smug mouth of yours! And wipe that stupid grin off your face before I do it for you¡ª"


    "Both of you, silence," Blue interrupted sharply. "The segment we''ve been waiting for is beginning."


    The room fell silent as the news anchor''s polished voice filled the space. Her professional demeanor contrasted sharply with the chaos she described. "Breaking news from yesterday''s shocking incident in Novaria''s town square, where three Infernian terrorists launched an unprecedented attack in broad daylight. The devastating assault left ten dead and seven others fighting for their lives in critical condition. Thanks to the swift response of our Auron division''s newest squad, led by the distinguished Officer Jack Sawn¡ª"


    "You''ve got to be kidding me!" Red exploded, his aura flaring like a supernova. "Those media vultures are completely writing us out of the story¡ª"


    "For heaven''s sake, contain yourself," Blue cut in with razor-sharp precision. "Let''s hear the full report before you burst a blood vessel you don''t actually have."


    The anchor continued, her voice maintaining that practiced neutrality that seemed almost absurd against footage of such destruction. "As the situation escalated, two officers from the initial response team were incapacitated in the line of duty. It was at this critical moment that another officer intervened¡ªAngelo, a name that might be more familiar to our viewers as ''The Angel of Death.''"


    The screen flickered with grainy phone footage, the shaky images somehow making the violence more immediate, more real. Every blast of energy, every thunderous impact between Angelo and Jack''s coordinated assault against the wind and lightning Aurons, played out in stark detail.


    "Through their combined efforts," the anchor continued, her voice steady despite the chaos displayed behind her, "Angelo and Jack successfully neutralized two of the hostile forces. The third terrorist was reportedly drawn away from the main conflict by unknown individuals, though eyewitness footage of this confrontation remains elusive. For more on this developing story, we turn to our field reporter, Jim Martinez, who''s gathered some fascinating firsthand accounts. Jim?"


    The scene shifted to the devastated town square, where yellow police tape fluttered in the morning breeze, marking off the worst of the destruction. The field reporter, maintaining his professional calm despite the grim backdrop, stood with two civilians who still carried the wide-eyed look of those who''d brushed too close to death.


    "Thank you, Alexandra. I''m here with two residents who witnessed the entire incident from their vantage point in one of these adjacent buildings. Not only did they observe the event, but they actually managed to capture some footage on their phones. Tell me," he turned to his guests, "weren''t you terrified, recording such a dangerous situation?"


    The woman practically vibrated with nervous energy as she spoke. "Terrified doesn''t begin to cover it! But you couldn''t look away, you know? Especially when The Angel of Death showed up¡ªI mean, everyone''s heard the stories about him, how he deals with criminals. But this time... this time was different! He showed mercy, and thank heavens he was there. Without him stepping in..." She shuddered, leaving the dark possibility unspoken.


    The reporter, noting her companion''s deepening frown, pivoted smoothly. "Sir, I couldn''t help but notice you seem to have a different perspective on events?"


    The man''s response came measured and precise, like he''d been rehearsing it. "Look, credit where credit''s due¡ªthe situation could have been much worse. But am I the only one who noticed how he held back until after those first officers were taken down? If you ask me, he was waiting in the wings for his moment in the spotlight. Classic showboating, if you ask me. And in a crisis? That''s just plain irresponsible."


    Red''s face contorted with rage, his crimson aura flaring violently. "Oh, this is rich! You want to know why we waited? Because someone got himself suspended! If it wasn''t for this stupid suspension, we could have jumped in right away! But no, we just had to play by the rules until things got desperate¡ª"If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "Your misplaced blame game is as productive as ever, Red," Blue''s exasperated voice cut through their shared consciousness. "Perhaps we could watch the remainder of the broadcast without your running commentary?"


    Red, lacking a materialized Blue to focus his fury on, shot Angelo a glare that could have melted steel.


    The reporter pressed on, his professional curiosity clearly piqued. "Now, there''s been quite a bit of speculation about the other incident¡ªthe two mysterious figures who drew away the third terrorist. Our footage shows them clearly engaging the hostile force before leading him away from the main battle. Did either of you get a clear look at these individuals?"


    The witnesses exchanged meaningful glances before the man cleared his throat. "Well, despite the distance¡ªwe were a good fifty feet up, mind you¡ªthere was something... peculiar about those two. The resemblance to The Angel of Death was uncanny. Almost like looking at triplets, if you catch my meaning."


    A pregnant pause hung in the air before the reporter leaned in. "Are you suggesting some sort of ability at play here? Perhaps similar to the projection techniques we''ve seen from light Aurons?"


    The woman jumped in, shaking her head with surprising vehemence. "No, no, that''s not right at all. I''ve seen enough Aurons in action to know their types. When he was going toe-to-toe with that lightning Auron? Clear as day¡ªhe''s an energy Auron, through and through."


    "That''s exactly what makes it so bizarre," the man added, his forehead creasing thoughtfully. "Energy Aurons don''t typically have those kinds of abilities, unless..." he paused, glancing at his companion, "unless he''s Evolved. But from what we''ve seen of his fights, he doesn''t seem to be..."


    The reporter''s eyes gleamed with the scent of a story. "Well, folks, it seems our Angel of Death continues to be a source of intrigue and speculation. Back to you in the studio, Alexandra."


    The broadcast continued, delving into speculation about the Angel of Death''s rising popularity among Novaria''s citizens and the swirling mysteries surrounding his abilities. But the trio''s attention had already shifted inward, their shared consciousness buzzing with their own concerns.


    "It seems people are starting to take notice of Red and myself," Blue''s measured voice echoed in their minds. "Perhaps we should consider the implications of this development."


    Red sprawled deeper into the worn couch cushions, waving a dismissive hand. "Oh, spare us the worry routine. Who gives a damn if they know about us? Let them wonder!"


    Blue, pointedly ignoring Red''s crude dismissal, directed his attention to their third member. "And you, Angelo? What are your thoughts on the matter?"


    Angelo leaned back against his headboard, running a hand through his still-disheveled hair as he considered the question. After a moment, his lips quirked into a slight smile. "You know what? I''m actually with Red on this one."


    "Interesting. Please elaborate," Blue prompted.


    "Think about it," Angelo continued, gesturing absently as he organized his thoughts. "Even if people figure out there are three of us, what then? They''ll never guess the true nature of our condition. We''d probably just become another urban legend, lost in the sea of theories about my abilities. Why waste energy hiding something that''ll only confuse people anyway?"


    A thoughtful silence filled their shared consciousness as Blue weighed Angelo''s logic. "You make a valid point. Perhaps I''m overthinking this. Very well¡ªI''ll try not to dwell on these public speculations."


    The tension of the morning seemingly forgotten, Angelo swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched. A small grin played at his lips as he directed his thoughts inward. "How about some breakfast? Red, if you help with the prep, you can choose what I eat."


    Red''s entire demeanor transformed at the offer, his earlier irritation giving way to excitement. "Well, well! Finally making good decisions for once!" He bounded toward the kitchenette, his crimson aura flaring to life. Energy tendrils materialized from his form, dancing through the small space as they yanked open drawers and cupboards with enthusiasm that bordered on chaos. The clatter of pans and rustle of packaging filled the apartment, a mundane symphony that somehow made their extraordinary existence feel almost normal.


    <hr>


    Lumecent, the crown jewel of Luminia, sparkled beneath the midday sun. Its pristine streets teemed with life, and nowhere was this energy more evident than at the prestigious Luminian Tower, where a constant stream of suited figures flowed through its gleaming glass doors like blood through arteries.


    Yet this vitality seemed to dim as one ascended to the building''s upper floors. Here, in a corner office that commanded a panoramic view of the capital, the air hung thick with cigarette smoke and unspoken tensions. Sunlight filtered through floor-to-ceiling windows, creating stark shadows across imported carpets and mahogany furniture.


    Behind an imposing desk sat a woman whose very stillness commanded attention. Her eyes remained fixed on the monitor before her, barely acknowledging the cigarette that smoldered between her fingers. When a knock echoed through the room, she didn''t so much as glance up.


    "Proceed," she said, her voice carrying the weight of absolute authority.


    A man entered, his polished appearance betraying only the slightest hint of nervous energy. "Madam, there have been significant developments in Novaria that require your attention."


    The woman continued studying her screen, smoke curling around her like a serpent. The silence stretched until she finally broke it with razor-sharp precision. "Does this concern your pet project, Lector? That ''Angel of Death'' you seem so fixated upon?"


    Lector shifted almost imperceptibly. "Yes, Madam, though not exclusively. There was an Infernian attack in Novaria''s town square. The Angel of Death was instrumental in neutralizing the threat."


    The rhythmic click of keys ceased as she finally stilled her hands. "Lector," her voice carried a note of warning, "I believe I made myself clear regarding this boy. No resources are to be wasted on someone of such negligible threat level, regardless of his... connection to us."


    "Of course, Madam," Lector hastened to explain, a bead of sweat forming at his temple. "This information emerged naturally from our Infernian surveillance. The subjects merely intersected."


    Irritation flickered across her features. "And I suppose this development warrants my attention because...?"


    "The morning news coverage prompted me to dig deeper," Lector pressed on, his professional demeanor masking his growing unease. "Based on our intelligence and incident footage, the Infernians initially held a clear advantage. Yet they were defeated. The force Auron alone incapacitated two members of the five-man response squad before his own defeat. This... this contradicts our analysis of Angelo''s capabilities."


    The woman''s silence encouraged him to continue, though his next words came carefully measured. "There''s more. Eyewitnesses report seeing three distinct versions of Angelo during the incident."


    Her eyes narrowed fractionally. "Explain."


    "That''s just it, Madam. Our intelligence confirms Angelo is an un-Evolved energy Auron. His abilities should be limited to basic energy manipulation. While skilled energy Aurons can create humanoid shaped energy projectiles, eyewitnesses insist these were three distinct entities. Something about this situation doesn''t align with our understanding."


    Smoke coiled around her head as she contemplated his words. After a long moment, she spoke with calculated precision. "Very well, Lector. Your instincts have served us well before. However," she fixed him with a penetrating stare, "given this remains merely a potential concern rather than an active threat, resources will remain minimal. Monitor him if you must, but understand this clearly ¨C even if he achieves Arch Auron rank, it means nothing to us unless he begins showing interest in our organization. Only then will I consider a more... direct approach."


    The implication hung heavy in the smoke-filled air.


    "Will that be all, Lector?"


    He drew a careful breath. "Yes, Madam. Crystal clear. I''ll take my leave."


    Her attention had already returned to the monitor, dismissal clear in every line of her posture. "Dismissed."


    As the door clicked shut behind him, she reached for another cigarette, her movements deliberate and controlled. The sun continued its arc across the sky, casting new shadows across an office where decisions that could reshape lives were made with the casual flick of an ash.

 14. Not That Grim...Or Is It?

    The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across Novaria''s town square, its golden rays glinting off the police barricades that still cordoned off the epicenter of yesterday''s battle. Workers methodically cleared debris while city officials assessed the damage, the sounds of reconstruction mixing with the usual bustle of evening crowds. Between the scaffolding and barriers, crews had begun hanging festive decorations, a determined reminder that the New Light Festival would proceed despite recent events.


    Angelo leaned against a worn stone pillar, watching the passing crowds with mild disinterest. The true identity of the Angel of Death remained hidden behind his unremarkable appearance - just another young officer in a sea of faces.


    A familiar voice cut through the evening air, making Angelo wince internally.


    "The Enlightened Society must fall!" The impassioned cry drew scattered attention. "Their tyranny masquerades as wisdom! Wake up, sheeple!"


    "Oh joy," Red''s voice dripped with sarcasm in their shared consciousness. "Looks like our resident prophet is delivering today''s sermon. Ten bucks says the boys in blue show up in three... two..."


    Right on cue, two officers approached Orin with practiced weariness. "Come on, buddy," one sighed, gently taking his arm. "Let''s go cool off at the station. Again."


    As they led the still-protesting man away, a lanky figure in an oversized uniform emerged from the crowd, practically bouncing with enthusiasm. Bill''s face lit up as he spotted Angelo, waving with the kind of energy that made Red groan internally.


    "So," Bill bounced on his heels with barely contained enthusiasm, "what are we doing today?"


    Angelo''s brow furrowed in thought. "Well, they didn''t really give me specific instructions about¡ª"


    "Fool!" Blue''s sharp rebuke cut through his mind. "You can''t admit such things to your underling!"


    "What?" Angelo''s mental voice rose defensively. "Then what am I supposed to¡ª"


    "Sir?" Bill''s voice seemed distant.


    "Maintain your authority!" Blue pressed. "The specifics are irrelevant."


    "But the chief literally didn''t tell us what to do!" Angelo''s internal frustration mounted.


    "Boss?"


    "He told us what Not to do," Blue reminded him tersely. "Focus on that."


    "That''s not helpful!" Angelo''s mental tone edged toward exasperation.


    "Boss!" Bill''s raised voice finally penetrated the internal debate.


    Angelo snapped back "What?! Oh..." He ran a hand through his hair, embarrassment coloring his features. "Sorry. Blue and I were... discussing something."


    Blue materialized beside them, his expression apologetic. "My apologies, Bill. Our internal conversations can become rather... absorbing."


    A grin spread across Bill''s face. "Happens often, does it?"


    "More than I''d like," Angelo admitted with a rueful smile. "Red and Blue have a special talent for being thoroughly distracting."


    "Must keep life interesting," Bill observed, fascination evident in his voice.


    "Yeah," Angelo sighed. "Never a dull moment..."


    Blue''s gaze swept the area. "I notice Red has made himself scarce."


    "Got bored the moment Blue started lecturing," Red''s disembodied voice drawled. "There''s only so much nagging a guy can take."


    "That was barely a minute into the conversation," Blue noted dryly.


    "Yeah. You two are just that boring."


    Angelo shook his head. "Never a dull moment indeed."


    As they began walking through the square, Bill''s curiosity finally got the better of him. "So what exactly is this condition of yours? If you don''t mind me asking."


    Angelo measured his words carefully. "We''re not entirely sure ourselves. But we have a scientist friend who''s been studying it, developed a theory about what might be happening."


    "Oh? Anyone I might know?"


    "Albert Goldstein. I just call him Albert, though."


    Bill stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widening comically. "Wait - THE Albert Goldstein?"


    Now it was Angelo''s turn to look surprised. "Wait, do you know Albert?"


    "Are you kidding? He''s only the most famous scientist in the field!"


    Angelo turned to Blue, bewilderment plain on his face. "Is he really that famous?"


    Blue considered this. "I was aware of his renown, though perhaps not the full extent of his reputation."


    "So what''s this theory he came up with?" Bill asked, practically vibrating with excitement.


    Angelo shifted uncomfortably. "It''s called the, uh... the theory of... Blue?"


    "The Components of Pure Energy Theory," Blue supplied smoothly, a hint of amusement in his voice.


    "That''s the one," Angelo nodded, while Red''s mental groan echoed in their consciousness.


    "And what does it say?" Bill pressed, his eyes bright with curiosity.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Blue stepped in, his tone taking on a scholarly quality. "In essence, pure energy''s composition includes three components: Neutral energy comprising fifty percent, with Positive and Negative energies each making up twenty-five percent. The professor theorizes that the energy composing Angelo''s body somehow split along these lines."


    "Allegedly," Red''s skeptical voice cut through their shared mind.


    "Something wrong, boss?" Bill asked, noting Angelo''s darkening expression.


    Angelo''s gaze drifted to the distant horizon. "This theory... it confirmed something we''d long suspected. Something... unpleasant."


    "What do you mean?"


    "My physical form," Angelo''s voice grew tight, "it''s always operating at half strength. This condition... it''s been holding me back all along."


    Bill''s face lit up unexpectedly. "But that means you''ve just got to work twice as hard! The universe''s energy is infinite, right? So you can still reach any height - it''ll just take twice the effort!"


    Blue shook his head gently. "I''m afraid it''s more complex than that. The mathematics suggest a fourfold disadvantage, not merely double."


    Both Bill and Angelo turned to him, confusion evident on their faces.


    "Consider this logically," Blue explained, his voice carrying that precise, analytical tone he was known for. "When you factor in both base capabilities and aura enhancement, the mathematics begin to make sense. The aura''s power multiplier is halved, yes, but so are Angelo''s baseline physical attributes. The compounding effect means he''s actually operating at approximately twenty-five percent efficiency - a reduction closer to seventy-five percent when compared to a standard Auron."


    Angelo''s shoulders slumped as the full implications sank in.


    "Well..." Bill''s voice wavered slightly, "four times isn''t that much more work, right? Just means you need to train a bit harder, that''s all..."


    The weak attempt at optimism fell flat as Angelo''s expression grew more defeated.


    But then something shifted in Bill''s demeanor. His voice grew stronger, more certain. "No, you know what? This is actually amazing! Think about it - everything you''ve accomplished, every criminal you''ve faced, every victory you''ve achieved - you did it all while working at a quarter of normal capacity! Think about it, The Angel of Death''s reputation? You built that with both hands tied behind your back while hopping on one leg!"


    Angelo looked up, startled by this perspective.


    "And you''re not doing it alone," Bill continued, his enthusiasm building. "You''ve got Red and Blue. Yesterday proved what you can accomplish together! Who needs raw power when you''ve got partners who literally share your thoughts? Maybe this condition isn''t a weakness at all - maybe it''s what makes you special!"


    A profound silence fell over the group. Even Red''s usually quick sarcasm was nowhere to be found.


    Blue''s smile held a hint of pride. "You know, Bill, you have a remarkably refreshing way of looking at things."


    As the setting sun painted the sky in brilliant oranges and purples, its light catching the half-hung festival decorations, Angelo found himself considering Bill''s words. Perhaps what he''d always seen as a limitation was actually the source of his greatest strength. The Angel of Death might be feared throughout Novaria, but his true power lay not in raw force, but in the unique bond he shared with his other selves.


    The revelation settled over him like a warm cloak as they continued their patrol, the bustling square a testament to the city''s resilience - and perhaps, to his own as well.


    In a different part of Novaria, where the evening shadows grew longer and the festive preparations seemed a world away, Chief Ramirez sat behind his desk, surrounded by the weight of mounting concerns. The lamp on his desk cast harsh shadows across the stack of files before him, each one a grim reminder of the growing darkness in his city.


    "Let''s go over all of the incidents again, Detective," Ramirez said, his voice heavy with the burden of unsolved cases. "Perhaps we''ve missed something..."


    Detective Plare stood by the window, his weathered face reflected in the darkening glass. He turned to face the chief, exhaustion evident in every line of his features. "Fine," he sighed, the word carrying years of cynicism. "Though I doubt another review will suddenly illuminate what we''ve missed in the previous dozen."


    Despite Plare''s reluctance, Ramirez''s steady gaze compelled him to continue. With practiced movements, the detective retrieved his folder, its edges worn from frequent handling.


    "First incident," Plare began, his voice falling into the familiar cadence of report-giving. "Officer Mike, lightning Auron. Found dead in a dark alley. Multiple slash wounds, accompanied by injuries consistent with high-voltage discharge."


    Ramirez''s eye twitched at the details, though he''d heard them many times before.


    "Second victim - Officer Diana, fire Auron." Plare''s finger traced down the page. "Body discovered in a secluded area of Oliver''s Park. Slash marks again, with severe burn trauma." He paused, his expression darkening. "This was where the cards started appearing. Each one bearing the same message: ''Another putrid soul claimed by the Grim Reaper.''"


    The words hung in the air like a curse. Ramirez winced visibly.


    "Third victim - Officer Jackie, water Auron. Construction site. Same pattern of slash marks. Body thoroughly saturated, and of course..." Plare''s voice trailed off, the presence of another calling card going without saying.


    Suddenly, the detective slammed the folder shut. "For heaven''s sake, Ramirez! The pattern couldn''t be more obvious if it was painted on the precinct walls!" He pulled out a cigarette with slightly trembling fingers, the flame of his lighter briefly illuminating his frustrated features. "One thing''s crystal clear - we''re dealing with an Evolved Auron."


    "We can''t be certain!" Ramirez shot back, his voice rising. "This could be the work of multiple Aurons, each targeting¡ª"


    "A group job?" Plare took a long drag, the smoke curling around him like specters. "Sure, it''s possible. A team of killers, each matching their victim''s aura type to muddy the waters. Make us think it''s one Evolved Auron with some kind of throwback ability..." He exhaled slowly, watching Ramirez''s hopeful expression. "It''s not a terrible theory, Chief. But it doesn''t fit."


    "But why¡ª" Ramirez began, only to be cut off by Plare''s words.


    "Because groups leave traces," the detective said, his voice carrying the weight of decades of experience. "More people mean more chances for mistakes, more loose ends, more potential weak links. This..." he gestured at the folder with his cigarette, "this has all the hallmarks of a lone operator. The precision, the consistency, the careful selection of isolated targets."


    Ramirez slumped in his chair. "If you''re right, if this is an Evolved Auron, our job just got ten times harder. I''ve already spoken with District Chief Lyla - they can''t spare any Evolved officers at present."


    "Then we catch them with their aura down," Plare said grimly. "It''s our only shot."


    "That would require knowing their identity first!" Ramirez''s fist struck his desk. "And we''re no closer to that than we were when this nightmare began!"


    A distant look crossed Plare''s face. "Times like these, we could use Detective David Thron..."


    The name sent a visible shock through Ramirez. "Now there''s a ghost from the past. Whatever became of him?"


    "Nobody knows for certain," Plare took another contemplative drag. "My gut says he dug too deep, got too close to those... ghosts." His eyes narrowed. "If this were a group operation, they''d have to be operating like those phantoms did..."


    "N-nonsense!" The tremor in Ramirez''s voice betrayed his fear. "It couldn''t be them!"


    Plare fixed the chief with a weary stare. "Then we''re back to our Evolved Auron theory."


    Conflict played across Ramirez''s features as he wrestled with which scenario frightened him more. Finally, he exploded, "First the Angel of Death, now this Grim Reaper - what kind of circus has my city become?!"


    Plare crushed out his cigarette with deliberate slowness, the sound unnaturally loud in the tense office. "There''s always the bait approach," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "Risky, sure. Could go sideways fast. But it might be our last card to play." He moved toward the door, pausing with his hand on the handle. "That Angel of Death of yours - he''d make perfect bait. Someone with his reputation? The Reaper wouldn''t be able to resist."


    The suggestion struck Ramirez like a physical blow, leaving him speechless in his chair.


    "You know where to find me when you make up your mind," Plare said, offering a casual wave without turning back. The door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving Ramirez alone with his thoughts and the growing shadows.


    The chief sat motionless, his mind racing between impossible choices. Outside his window, the last rays of sunlight faded from Novaria''s skyline, as if the city itself was being claimed by an encroaching darkness.

 15. Baiting The Reaper

    Night loomed over Novaria, casting long shadows across the police station''s empty corridors. In his office, Chief Ramirez sat hunched over his desk, the weight of recent events bearing down on his shoulders. The dim light from his desk lamp cast harsh shadows across his face, deepening the lines of worry etched there.


    "What an absolute mess," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. His thoughts had been circling for hours until he could no longer tell if he was thinking or speaking aloud. "This Reaper, making puppets of us all, dancing to their tune while we scramble to catch shadows... and now our only solution might put Angelo right in the crosshairs." His hands clenched into fists. "If anything happened to that boy... haven''t I done enough to him already..."


    His restless mind shifted tracks, anger rising in his voice. "And these Infernian bastards!" The word came out as a snarl. "Strutting around with their diplomatic immunity, each one condemning the attack with practiced speeches while their hands drip with our blood!" His fist struck the desk, making his coffee cup rattle. "They think we''re blind? That we can''t see the puppet masters behind their terrorist pawns?"


    His face twisted with disgust. "And these fanatics they''ve sent - captured but unbroken, wearing their silence like armor. Their damned loyalty makes them twice as dangerous. Won''t give up their masters, won''t break no matter what we throw at them. Like trying to interrogate statues..."


    "Chief Ramirez?"


    Officer Vivian''s voice cut through his bitter musings, making him start. She stood in the doorway, concern evident in her features. "When was the last time you actually slept, sir?"


    Ramirez straightened, trying to gather his scattered composure. "Vivian... I''m fine. Just thinking out loud." The words sounded hollow even to his own ears.


    She studied him for a moment before stepping into the office, closing the door with deliberate care. "With all due respect, sir, that''s not what ''fine'' looks like. Not even close." Taking a seat across from his desk, she leaned forward. "You''ve been carrying this burden alone long enough. Let someone help shoulder the weight before it breaks you."


    The chief shifted uncomfortably in his leather chair, the familiar creaks emphasizing his unease. Years of command warred with the exhaustion evident in every line of his face.


    "Sir," Vivian pressed gently, "the department needs its chief whole, not worn to pieces. Whatever''s eating at you - let me help. We''re facing enough enemies without you battling yourself too."


    Her words struck him like a physical blow. He straightened, as if physically pulling himself together piece by piece. "Damn it all, you''re right," he admitted, some of his old strength returning to his voice. "We won''t solve anything by losing our minds over it. It''s just... Plare''s proposed solution to our Reaper problem. The cost might be higher than I can bear to pay."


    "What kind of solution has you this rattled?" Vivian''s brow furrowed with concern.


    Ramirez inhaled deeply, the words seeming to pain him. "He wants to set a trap. Using bait our killer couldn''t possibly resist - bait that could get someone killed if we''re not careful."


    Understanding dawned in Vivian''s eyes. "Angelo," she breathed, the name hanging heavy in the air. "You''re thinking of using the Angel of Death himself as bait?"


    "His reputation would draw our killer like a moth to flame," Ramirez confirmed grimly. "The Angel of Death - perfect prey for the Grim Reaper. It''s almost poetic, in a twisted way."


    Vivian''s analytical mind was already racing ahead, pulling apart the plan''s weaknesses. "Sir, the logistics alone... how would you even execute something like this? We can''t just station Angelo somewhere like a piece of cheese in a mousetrap." Her frown deepened. "More importantly, how would we even signal his location to our target without broadcasting it to the entire city?"


    Ramirez''s hand froze halfway to his phone, her words hitting him like a bucket of ice water. "Son of a..." He snatched up the receiver, punching in Plare''s number with sharp, angry movements.


    After what felt like an eternity, Detective Plare picked up.


    "Have you made up your mind already, Ramirez?" Plare''s gravelly voice carried a hint of amusement. "I thought you might."


    "Your brilliant ''bait the Reaper'' plan has a gaping hole in it big enough to drive a truck through," Ramirez snapped. "How exactly do you propose we communicate the bait''s location to our killer? Should I put out a press release? ''Attention murderer: your target will be here, signed, the police?''"


    A long pause followed, broken only by the sound of Plare exhaling cigarette smoke. When he spoke again, there was a smugness in his voice that made Ramirez''s teeth grind.


    "Tell me, Chief, what''s the most powerful force in Novaria?" Before Ramirez could answer, Plare continued, "Rumors. We let the whispers do our work for us."


    "Speak plainly, damn it. I''m not in the mood for riddles."


    "We seed the story of the Angel of Death''s secret training ground," Plare explained, his voice carrying the patience of someone explaining something obvious. "Somewhere remote, isolated - perfect for an ambush, not to mention the target area of choice for the Grim Reaper. Then we wait with our welcome party."This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    "Welcome party?" Ramirez''s voice rose sharply. "You''re talking about putting officers in the line of fire. How many lives are you planning to risk on this gamble?"


    "Ten should do it," Plare replied with maddening casualness. "Against an Evolved Auron''s tenfold power boost, anything less would be suicide anyway."


    "Ten-!" Ramirez exploded, making Vivian jump. "Have you lost your mind? Do you have any concept what pulling that many Auron officers would do to our division? To our ability to protect this city?"


    "Less damage than letting this Reaper continue turning our officers into corpses," Plare countered, his voice turning to steel. "But by all means, keep wringing your hands while we die one by one. The longer this drags on, the longer my contract runs, the more I get paid."


    The silence that followed was thick enough to cut. Vivian watched the war play out across her chief''s features before he finally spoke, each word seeming to cost him.


    "You cold-hearted bastard," he ground out. "Fine. We''ll try it your way. I''ll have my people start working on the rumor mill."


    "Look at it this way," Plare''s voice softened fractionally. "At least Angelo himself won''t be in the crosshairs. Just the rumor of him."


    "Unless he catches wind of these whispers himself," Ramirez shot back. "Did that possibility cross that calculating mind of yours? What happens when the Angel of Death decides to investigate reports about his own secret lair?"


    "Then your officers play dumb. They''re on routine assignment, never heard any rumors, complete ignorance." A pause, then, "Everything in our line of work carries risk, Chief. But doing nothing? Standing still while a predator stalks your people? That''s not risk - that''s surrender."


    After the call ended, Vivian voiced what they were both thinking: "Sir, every instinct I have is screaming that we''re walking into something terrible."


    "The voice in my gut is shouting the same warning," Ramirez admitted, suddenly looking every one of his years. He stared at the phone as if it might bite him. "But we''re running out of options, Vivian. And our people are running out of time."


    Vivian nodded gravely, rising from her chair. "I''ll start making the arrangements, sir."


    As she left, Chief Ramirez turned to the window, watching the last stars fade from the night sky. Soon, they would begin their dangerous gambit. But for now, all he could do was wait and pray they weren''t making a terrible mistake.


    Morning crept over Novaria, the first rays of sun painting the sky in delicate shades of pink and gold. As early risers began their daily routines, a different kind of awakening was taking place - the careful cultivation of whispers, each one planted with deliberate precision.


    The first murmurs started in a bustling coffee shop downtown, where conversations flowed as freely as the espresso. A barista leaned across the counter, her voice pitched just loud enough to catch nearby ears.


    <blockquote>


    "I shouldn''t even be talking about this," she confided to her regular customer, masterfully feigning reluctance. "But my brother''s friend - you know, the one in construction? He swears he saw something incredible out by that old factory complex on the outskirts."


    Her customer''s eyes widened with interest, coffee forgotten. "The abandoned one? Past the city limits?"


    "Exactly," the barista nodded, glancing around conspiratorially. "Says he saw someone training there - someone whose aura lit up the whole place orange. And get this - he was throwing energy blasts all around. Like in the videos."


    "Wait," another customer chimed in, unable to resist. "You don''t think..."


    "The Angel of Death," someone whispered, the name spreading through the shop like wildfire. "He has an actual lair?"


    </blockquote>


    The whispers grew legs, racing through social media and text messages, each retelling adding new layers of intrigue. By midday, the rumor had evolved into something with a life of its own.


    <blockquote>


    "Did you see what''s trending?" A teenager nudged his friend, showing his phone screen. "People are saying they''ve found where the Angel of Death trains!"


    "No way!" His friend grabbed the phone, scanning eagerly. "That''s insane! We should check it out!"


    "Are you crazy?" A third friend interjected, face pale. "What if we actually find him? What if he''s really there?"


    "Relax," the first teen laughed, though his voice wavered slightly. "He only goes after criminals. We''d be fine... probably."


    </blockquote>


    The rumor continued to spread, each conversation carrying it further, reaching into every corner of Novaria. It infiltrated business lunches, taxi rides, and social gatherings, growing more elaborate with each telling.


    This was also true in one of Novaria''s most exclusive neighborhoods, where manicured lawns stretched between stately homes, a different kind of gathering was taking place. The afternoon sun streamed through tall windows into an elegantly appointed sitting room, where a group of society women had gathered for their regular tea.


    "Speaking of local excitement," one woman said, delicately stirring her Earl Grey, "have you heard the latest about our mysterious vigilante? Apparently, someone''s discovered where the Angel of Death conducts his... business."


    Across the table, a striking blonde woman looked up, ice-blue eyes catching the light with unusual intensity. "Is that so?" Her voice was honey-smooth, but something sharp lurked beneath the sweetness. "Do tell, Maggie. What has the gossip mill churned out this time?"


    "They''re saying he has some sort of training ground," another woman eagerly supplied. "In that old industrial complex outside the city. Though really, Jill," she added with a playful smile, "I wouldn''t have thought you''d be interested in such... violent characters."


    The blonde - Jill - laughed, the sound like wind chimes in winter. "Oh, you know me, Clara. I find all sorts of things... fascinating." She took a careful sip of tea, her perfect smile never quite reaching her eyes. "Though the Angel of Death? Isn''t he rather young for my tastes?"


    "That''s never stopped you before," Clara teased, oblivious to the dangerous glint in Jill''s eyes.


    "Perhaps not," Jill conceded, her laugh light and musical. But something flickered behind her carefully maintained smile- a hunger that had nothing to do with afternoon tea. "Though really, who puts much stock in rumors these days? They''re so often... disappointing."


    The conversation drifted to other topics - charity galas and social scandals - but Jill''s attention seemed elsewhere, her thoughts clearly running deeper than neighborhood gossip. Her smile remained fixed in place like a beautiful mask, but beneath it lurked something predatory, something that saw the threads of this rumor for exactly what they were.


    As afternoon faded toward evening, the bait had been well and truly cast. The question now was not whether it would draw attention, but what kind of hunter might be circling, studying the trap even as it was laid. In offices and homes across Novaria, people continued to spread the tale of the Angel of Death''s secret sanctuary, unaware they were playing their parts in a deadly game of cat and mouse.


    Yet in that elegant sitting room, behind that perfect smile and those ice-blue eyes, calculations were already being made. The trap had been recognized - but who, exactly, was trapping whom?


    The stage was set, the pieces in motion. Now all that remained was to see what manner of predator they had invited to their carefully orchestrated performance - and whether those who had set the trap truly understood what they were calling into their midst.

 16. On Rumors Pursuit

    The midday sun beat down on Novaria''s bustling streets, its rays catching on shop windows and casting sharp shadows across the cracked pavement. The air hummed with the whir of delivery drones overhead and the steady pulse of traffic below. Half-finished New Light Festival decorations dangled from lampposts, their colors muted in the harsh light. Angelo walked alone among the crowd, his thoughts drifting to loose ends left dangling in the wake of recent chaos.


    "Everything''s been such a mess lately," Angelo reflected, weaving between hurried pedestrians. "We haven''t made any progress on finding out the truth about our parents."


    Red''s smoky form twisted lazily through the air elsewhere. "Hard to make progress when someone gets cold feet every time Ashford comes up. Face it - we''re stuck because of you."


    "That''s not fair!" Angelo''s internal voice crackled with indignation, his scowl deep enough to make a young mother hurry her child to the other side of the street. "We have other obligations. We still need to do the mentorship with Bill¡ª"


    "The rookie?" Red''s essence rippled with dark humor. "Oh yes, let''s drag him into our family drama. Sounds fun."


    Blue''s analytical tones cut through their exchange. "Your gift for creating complications never ceases to amaze, Red."


    "Such kind words from our resident scholar," Red''s smoky form performed an elaborate spectral bow. "Listen to that, Angelo - even Blue knows brilliance when he sees it."


    "That was hardly a compliment," Blue noted with characteristic detachment, though his dry observation only fueled Red''s amusement.


    Angelo pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering just loud enough to draw curious stares from passersby. "Maybe real insanity would be an improvement. At least normal hallucinations might give me a moment''s peace."


    "Now there''s a thought!" Red''s essence swirled with renewed mischief. "Why stop at just us? The more voices the better, I always say. Though I do wonder if we''d get to enjoy the extra company..."


    "And this," Angelo''s mental tone sharpened with frustration, "is exactly why we never get anything done. Every single conversation spirals into¡ª"


    Red''s form suddenly went rigid, his attention caught by a cluster of teenagers in disheveled school uniforms. Their animated conversation carried across the busy street, drawing both Red and Angelo''s focus.


    <blockquote>


    "...just imagine being the ones to actually find it," one teen was saying, practically bouncing with excitement. "The Angel of Death''s actual training ground!"


    "You''re out of your mind," his friend replied, fear edging his voice. "This is the guy who took down those terrorists. You really want to risk running into him?"


    "Come on, he only goes after criminals," another chimed in. "After what he did to those Infernians, he''s basically a hero!"


    The skeptical teen rolled his eyes. "Right. Because ''the Angel of Death has a secret base in some abandoned factory'' doesn''t sound completely made up. What''s next - he flies around in a cape fighting crime?"


    </blockquote>


    Their laughter faded as they moved down the street, leaving Red''s smoky form hovering in their wake.


    "What did they just say?" Angelo stopped abruptly, nearly causing a collision with a harried businessman. His mental voice carried clear bewilderment.


    "Sounds like schoolyard gossip to me," Blue offered, his tone measured and analytical.


    Red''s essence swirled with suspicion. "My gut says there''s more to it than that."


    "Because your gut has such an impressive track record," Blue''s dry response carried layers of sarcasm.


    "Think about it!" Red''s form twisted with agitation. "Those kids looks like ditchers to me. I bet they didn''t hear this at school."


    "Ah yes, Red the social analyst strikes again," Blue''s detachment carried a sharp edge.


    "Better than being a stuck-up bookworm!" Red shot back, his smoky form billowing. "At least I understand how real people work, you overgrown blueberry!"


    "That''s enough!" Angelo''s mental command cut through their bickering. "Red actually has a point for once. We should look into this."


    "Finally embracing social media?" Blue asked with uncharacteristic bite. "Never thought I''d live to see the day of your return."


    Angelo''s grimace spoke volumes. "God no. The cringe was bad enough to make me delete everything. No, we''ll do this the old-fashioned way - ask around. If this rumor''s big enough to reach beyond a single school, someone else must have heard it."


    "Finally, someone listens to reason," Red''s smug satisfaction rolled through their shared consciousness.


    "Shut it," Angelo thought as he approached a nearby toy shop, his heart already beginning to race at the prospect of social interaction. He rarely had reason to enter such establishments, but it seemed as good a place as any to start gathering information.


    Inside the toy shop, bright colors and cheerful displays contrasted sharply with Angelo''s growing discomfort. A young employee was restocking shelves, music faintly leaking from her earbuds as she worked.


    "Excuse me?" Angelo''s voice came out smaller than intended. When she didn''t respond, he cleared his throat and tried again. "Um, could I ask you something?"


    The worker pulled out an earbud, turning with a practiced retail smile. "Hi there! Need help finding anything?"


    Angelo''s pulse quickened as reality crashed in - he was about to ask a toy store employee about vigilante rumors. His palms began to sweat.


    "Feel that spike in his heart rate, Blue?" Red''s gleeful voice echoed in their shared consciousness. "Our boy''s in love! Talk about love at first sight!"


    "Amazing," Blue replied with perfect disinterest.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "I... well... it''s not actually about toys," Angelo stammered, his face warming. "This might sound strange, but..."


    Understanding dawned in the worker''s eyes. "Oh! Oh... I''m so sorry, but I have a boyfriend..."


    "Poor Angelo," Red''s essence practically vibrated with delight. "She might have given you a chance if she wasn''t already taken. Sure, you''re short, but you''ve got that brooding charm going for you!"


    "Shut the fuck up, Red." Angelo''s mental voice strained with mortification.


    "Don''t give up now! Show some initiative - steal someone''s girl! I believe in you!"


    Fighting to ignore Red''s commentary, Angelo rushed to correct the misunderstanding. "No! That''s not... I just wanted to ask if you''d heard any rumors about the Angel of Death lately?" The words tumbled out in an awkward rush.


    "Smooth," Red snickered.


    The worker blinked, clearly thrown by this conversational whiplash. "Oh, is that all? Yeah, actually. The break room''s been buzzing about it. Something about a secret hideout in that old factory complex outside the city. It''s all over social media too."


    "Impressive," Red mused. "First try and we struck gold!"


    "Thank you," Angelo muttered, turning to flee the store before his dignity could erode further. Outside in the familiar bustle of the street, he collected his thoughts. "So this rumor''s widespread enough that even toy store employees are talking about it."


    "The question becomes," Blue''s analytical tone cut in, "whether this is mere gossip or something more carefully orchestrated."


    "Would regular gossip spread this far this fast?" Angelo wondered aloud, drawing odd looks from passersby.


    "Only one way to find out!" Red''s form swirled with excitement. "Let''s check out this factory!"


    "That would be unwise," Blue countered. "If we''re spotted there, we''d validate these rumors. And if this is indeed a trap..."


    Angelo nodded slowly. "Good point. The chief would have warned me if something was up, right?"


    "Why not call and verify?" Blue suggested.


    Angelo''s expression tightened at the thought of facing the chief''s mood after their latest interactions. "Your points make enough sense. No need to bother him. Checking out the factory probably wouldn''t tell us much anyway."


    "Pussy," Red''s disdain was palpable.


    The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of information gathering, Angelo carefully collecting scattered pieces of the rumor from conversations and overheard snippets. As five o''clock approached, he made his way toward the town square. He could continue his investigation while staying close to his meeting spot with Bill.


    The town square bustled with pre-evening activity as Angelo waited at the designated meeting spot, festival decorations catching the late afternoon light. His investigation had revealed the rumor''s impressive reach, but its origin remained frustratingly elusive. The implications made him uneasy, but before he could pursue that troubling line of thought, Red''s alert cut through his contemplation.


    "Look who''s getting the usual escort," Red''s smoky form drifted higher for a better view. "Hold up... those aren''t Orin''s regular handlers."


    Before they could investigate further, a commotion erupted through the square. Hats and papers scattered in a sudden gust as a figure practically flew through the crowd, his wind aura leaving chaos in his wake.


    "Not bad form for a rookie," Angelo observed as Bill''s approaching figure became clear.


    "Boss! Boss!" Bill''s enthusiasm carried clearly across the square as he bounded forward with puppyish energy.


    "Take it down a notch," Angelo called when Bill was within earshot. "You''re giving the pigeons a heart attack."


    "But sir, I have to ask - everyone at the station''s been talking about it all day!"


    "The rumor reaches yet another corner of Novaria," Blue noted clinically.


    Angelo''s lips twitched. "Let me guess - something about my secret training facility?"


    "Exactly!" Bill''s eyes shone with barely contained excitement. "The other trainees kept grilling me about it, but I had no idea what to tell them!"


    Angelo pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. "Come on, Bill. You''re not seriously buying into this gossip?"


    Bill''s shoulders slumped, his earlier enthusiasm deflating visibly. "Yeah... guess you''re right. Just a stupid rumor after all."


    "Way to crush the kid''s spirit," Red cackled. "Real mentor of the year material!"


    Ignoring Red''s jab, Angelo pressed on. "Besides, why is everyone so obsessed with where I train? It''s hardly headline news."


    "Well," Bill brightened slightly, shifting into analytical mode, "people love celebrity mysteries. The whole Angel of Death persona, all the questions around you - it''s catnip for rumor mills. They eat this stuff up."


    A heavy pause settled between them.


    "People are weird," Angelo muttered.


    "No argument here," Red chimed in.


    "Quite," Blue concluded.


    The rare moment of trilateral agreement hung in the air before Angelo broke it. "Since you''re so invested in this mystery, why not help me investigate? We can track down where it started, figure out the why."


    Bill''s face lit up like a festival lantern. "Really? You''ll teach me actual investigation techniques?"


    His raw enthusiasm caught Angelo flat-footed. "Uh, yeah, sure..."


    "And where exactly did you acquire these investigative skills?" Blue''s inquiry sliced through their shared consciousness.


    "Last I checked, we just punch the bad guys," Red added with unholy glee.


    "Both of you, shut it!" Angelo''s internal voice crackled with annoyance. "I prefer you at each other''s throats rather than mine!"


    Without another word, Angelo stormed off, leaving a bewildered Bill to scramble after him. They spent the next hour canvassing the square, questioning shopkeepers, pedestrians, and even the oddly twitchy officers who usually handled Orin''s daily removals. The latter seemed particularly nervous when questioned, though perhaps it was guilt over losing track of their regular charge.


    Their search eventually led them to a familiar gift shop they''d passed countless times on patrol. The bell chimed softly as they entered, but the shop appeared empty.


    "Hello?" Bill''s voice echoed through the quiet store.


    "Just a minute!" A woman''s voice called from behind the counter, followed immediately by a solid thunk. "Ow!"


    An impressive afro emerged first, followed by its wincing owner as she carefully extracted herself from beneath the counter.


    "Are you... alright?" Angelo asked, watching her gingerly touch her head.


    "Good thing she''s got a built-in helmet," Red snickered in their shared consciousness. "Nature''s own safety equipment!"


    Angelo and Blue''s collective mental eye-roll was practically audible.


    "Oh, I''m fine," the shopkeeper laughed, patting her impressive hair. "Natural cushioning, you know?"


    "Told ya!" Red crowed triumphantly.


    Angelo forced himself to focus. "Ma''am, if we could ask you a few questions?"


    Recognition flickered in her eyes as she noticed their uniforms. "Oh dear, am I in some kind of trouble?"


    "No, nothing like that," Angelo assured her. "We''re from the Auron division, looking into these rumors about the Angel of Death."


    "What kind of information?" Her earlier nervousness gave way to curiosity.


    Bill leaned forward eagerly. "We''re trying to track down where it started. Have you heard anything about its origin?"


    "Sorry, not much help there," she shook her head. "Just picked it up from some friends before opening up today." Her gaze sharpened with interest. "But why is the Auron division investigating rumors? Isn''t that more detective territory?"


    Irritation flashed across Angelo''s features. "It''s relevant to me personally."


    "Oh?" Her eyebrows rose. "How so?"


    "Because I''m the one they call the Angel of Death," Angelo bit out, his patience with the conversation wearing visibly thin.


    The shopkeeper''s face went slack with shock as recognition hit her. How many times had she seen him patrol past her shop, never realizing she was mere feet from the infamous Angel of Death?


    Bill, picking up on her sudden tension, jumped in with a reassuring smile. "Don''t worry! He''s not nearly as scary as the stories make him sound."


    "What''s that supposed to mean?" Angelo''s annoyance shifted targets. "Never mind. Another dead end. Sorry to bother you, ma''am. Have a good evening. Let''s go, Bill."


    "Right behind you, boss! Good evening!" Bill offered a cheerful wave as they left the increasingly flustered shopkeeper behind.


    As the bell chimed their departure, color slowly returned to the woman''s face. "Well, I''ll be damned," she murmured, already imagining her friends'' reactions to this encounter. "He really wasn''t so terrifying after all."


    The sun had begun its descent toward the horizon as Angelo and Bill emerged onto the street, casting long shadows across the square. Their investigation had revealed the rumor''s impressive reach but left its source as mysterious as ever. Something about the whole situation left an uneasy feeling in Angelo''s gut - one that even Red''s constant commentary couldn''t quite dispel.

 17. A Wolf Among Sheep

    Sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows of Clara''s sitting room, painting the hardwood floors in soft golds and ambers. The nearly daily gathering of Novaria''s elite ladies was in full swing, with delicate china teacups and silver trays laden with pastries arranged between them.


    Clara practically vibrated with excitement as everyone settled in with their tea. Before anyone could raise another topic, she took a quick sip and burst out:


    "Girls! You have no idea who came to pay me a visit yesterday!"


    The ladies exchanged amused glances. Maggie''s eyes sparkled with mischief as she adjusted her designer dress.


    "Oh dear, was it that singer again?" she teased. "The one you swear passed by your shop - what was his name? Joe?"


    Laughter rippled through the group. Clara''s cheeks flushed pink, but she joined in their amusement.


    "I''m telling you, he really did stop by that day!" she protested, then waved her hands dismissively. "But no, this is even better - it was the Angel of Death himself!"


    The laughter cut off abruptly. Several teacups clattered against their saucers.


    "The Angel of Death?" Maggie leaned forward, nearly spilling her tea. "Clara, you can''t just drop something like that! Tell us everything - what was he really like?"


    Clara settled back, clearly savoring their rapt attention. "Well, the rumors about his age are true. He''s quite young, though that beard of his adds years." She chuckled. "But here''s the thing - he''s not nearly as frightening as everyone makes him out to be. He had this handsome young officer with him, must have been his underling since the boy kept calling him ''boss'' every other word."


    "That young and he has an underling?" one of the ladies interjected. "How does that work?"


    "Maybe it''s one of those special programs," another suggested. "You know how the police have been recruiting more Aurons lately."


    The conversation flowed freely now, with theories and questions bouncing back and forth. Only Jill remained silent, her ice-blue eyes fixed on the festival decorations swaying beyond the window. Her untouched tea grew cold beside her.


    "Jill?" Maggie''s voice carried a note of concern. When no response came, she tried again more firmly. "Jill!"


    "Oh?" Jill turned, her movement carrying an unnaturally fluid grace. For a split second, something predatory flickered behind her perfect smile before vanishing beneath her carefully maintained facade. "I''m sorry, darlings. Long night - barely had a wink of sleep."


    "You poor thing," Clara cooed. "Was it the cold? These autumn nights can be dreadful without proper heating."


    "Something like that," Jill murmured, her manicured fingers tapping a slow rhythm against her chair. Her head tilted slightly, like a predator considering its prey. "Though I must say, Clara darling, you''ve left us hanging on the most intriguing part - why exactly did the infamous Angel of Death grace your shop with his presence?"


    "Oh?" Clara blinked, then let out a tinkling laugh. "Oh heavens, you''re absolutely right! How could I forget the best part? He was actually investigating that rumor that''s been circulating about himself." She waved her hand dismissively. "Just a wild goose chase, if you ask me. The poor dear seemed quite frustrated about the whole thing."


    "I suppose this settles it then, it was only just a rumor." One of the ladies said with a playful tone.


    Outside, festival lanterns rustled in the strengthening breeze. Inside, the ladies continued their animated discussion, none noticing how intently Jill absorbed every detail - or how her perfect smile masked something far more sinister.


    As teacups emptied and conversation waned, the ladies began gathering their belongings with promises to meet again soon. Jill lingered, watching with calculated patience as the others filed out. Only when the last echo of goodbye faded did she approach Clara, who was adjusting her jewelry in front of an antique mirror.


    "Darling," Clara caught Jill''s reflection as she struggled with an earring, "not that I don''t adore these little after-party chats, but I really must dash to the shop soon."


    "Speaking of your shop," Jill''s voice dripped sweetness like poisoned honey, "I couldn''t help but notice your casual mention of our local celebrity making regular appearances. The Angel of Death himself, a regular fixture in your corner of Novaria - how absolutely fascinating."


    "Isn''t it though?" Clara gave a nervous laugh, her fingers fumbling with the earring. "Who would have thought? Someone with his reputation, walking among us mere mortals, so close you could reach out and..."


    Something dark flickered across Jill''s face - a split-second fracture in her perfect mask that made Clara''s words die in her throat. Jill quickly smoothed her features, replacing the predatory glint with an expression of urgent concern.


    "Clara, dear," Jill stepped closer, her voice dropping to an intimate whisper, "I know this may sound terribly odd, but I desperately need a favor. There''s something of utmost importance I must discuss with him face to face. These rumors he''s investigating - I believe I might have crucial information."


    She laid a perfectly manicured hand on Clara''s arm, her grip just a fraction too tight to be friendly. "Would you be an absolute angel and pass along my address? Tell him it''s vital we speak."


    Clara instinctively tried to step back, though Jill''s grip held firm. "Jill, you''re starting to worry me. What exactly have you gotten mixed up in? What did you-"


    The look Jill gave her could have frozen hell itself. Those ice-blue eyes held volumes of unspoken threats, even as her lips maintained their perfect smile.


    "I..." Clara swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper. "Of course. I''ll tell him. Just... please tell me you haven''t done anything reckless, Jill. These aren''t the sort of waters one should wade into lightly."


    "Oh, precious," Jill''s gratitude seemed genuine, which somehow made it more terrifying. "Let''s pray neither of us finds ourselves in over our heads." She finally released Clara''s arm. "Thank you, darling. You''ve been absolutely invaluable."


    As Jill''s heels clicked away down the hallway, Clara couldn''t shake the feeling that she''d just signed something in blood. The festival lanterns outside cast shifting shadows through the windows, and for a moment, they looked almost like prison bars.


    Clara rubbed her arm where Jill had gripped it, wondering if she''d just helped arrange a meeting between the Angel of Death and something far worse.


    <hr>


    Novaria''s town square pulsed with renewed life, the cordoned section damaged by the Infernian terrorists finally reopened to the public. Workers atop ladders hung fresh festival decorations, their efforts slowly erasing the last visible scars of the attack.


    Red''s crimson smoke form drifted lazily between passersby, his essence swirling with familiar mischief. "Hey guys, is it just me, or is it weirdly quiet today?" his voice echoed in their shared consciousness.


    "What the hell are you on about now?" Angelo''s mental tone dripped with exasperation. "The place is practically bursting with noise."


    "I''m talking about our daily entertainment!" Red''s form performed an elaborate spectral swoon. "No Orin ranting about the Enlightened Society! Without his dramatic performances, how will I ever find meaning in life?"


    "Just when I think you couldn''t sink any lower," Blue''s dry response cut through their mental link, "you manage to surprise me. Though perhaps I shouldn''t be surprised anymore."


    Angelo spotted Bill approaching through the crowd, bouncing along to whatever played through his earphones. The rookie''s curly hair bobbed in time with his steps, his face wearing that same carefree smile that made him look even younger than his years.


    "Thank sweet merciful god," Angelo thought privately, grateful for any distraction from his other selves'' bickering.


    "Hey boss!" Bill''s enthusiasm could have powered half the city. He pulled out his earphones, practically vibrating with energy.


    "Good to see you''re on time," Angelo replied, already starting to walk. "Let''s move."This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    As they began their patrol, Bill could barely contain himself. "So? Did you find anything about that rumor?"


    "Nope," Angelo shrugged, affecting an air of complete disinterest. "Think I''m just gonna let it drop."


    "What? Why?" Bill''s eyes widened with dismay. "After everything we heard-"


    "Look," Angelo cut him off, "if it was something sinister, we''d know by now. Probably just someone''s idea of a joke."


    They continued their rounds, with Angelo carefully steering conversations away from his Angel of Death persona as Ramirez had ordered. Instead, he focused on sharing what he could remember from police training. Eventually, the discussion turned technical.


    "Say," Bill ventured, his eyes lighting up with curiosity, "I''ve been meaning to ask - that smoky rope technique Red and Blue used to escape the Infernian Force Auron? I''ve never seen anything like it."


    Angelo''s expression darkened at the memory of Sleeser''s words. "Yeah," he grumbled, "apparently it''s not very ''combat viable.''"


    "And you worked so hard on it too!" Red''s mental voice dripped with mock sympathy. "Such dedication, wasted on glorified beer-fetching!"


    "Its utility applications are undeniable," Blue interjected analytically. "It''s become one of our most frequently employed techniques. Moreover, simply mastering it demonstrates remarkable control and focus."


    "Yeah, if you''re looking to become a master bartender," Red snickered.


    "Apparently?" Bill prompted, oblivious to the internal exchange.


    Angelo sighed heavily. "Yeah, turns out most energy Aurons don''t even bother with it. My master neglected to mention that little detail until after I''d already mastered the damn thing."


    "But why not?" Bill leaned in, practically radiating curiosity. "It seems incredibly useful!"


    "You really want to get into the technical details?" Angelo raised an eyebrow. "You''re a wind Auron - what good will this do you?"


    Bill''s expression softened, taking on an almost wistful quality. "My father always said we can draw inspiration from unexpected sources."


    Angelo''s retort died in his throat. How could he argue with that? Especially given everything Bill''s father had sacrificed.


    "Fine," he conceded with another sigh. "But I''m keeping this brief. The energy tendril technique works by creating particles so small they don''t have the capacity to detonate. You press these particles against objects and since they stick to each other, that lets you manipulate things. That''s what lets me use them for mobility too."


    "That''s amazing!" Bill''s genuine enthusiasm made Angelo uncomfortable. "So why do you seem so frustrated by it?"


    "Two reasons," Angelo held up fingers. "First, they''re incredibly fragile. Any real resistance shatters them instantly. Second," his expression grew more complex, "controlling multiple tendrils requires constant focus-switching. Something I only learned because of my... unique situation."


    "Incredible!" Bill was practically bouncing again. "Have you developed any other techniques yourself?"


    "W-Well, yes," Angelo shifted uncomfortably, "but I rarely get to use it..."


    "What?" Bill grabbed his arm in excitement. "You''re only telling me this now? Is it some kind of ultimate technique? Something too powerful to use casually?"


    "His fanboying is getting painful to watch," Red commented as he eavesdropped on nearby conversations.


    "Cease your invasion of privacy," Blue''s disapproving tone carried through their link.


    Angelo ignored them both. "It never came up before. Besides, I don''t use it much since I usually fight alongside Red and Blue."


    Bill''s forehead wrinkled in confusion. "I don''t understand."


    "It''s called ''Aura Area,''" Angelo explained reluctantly. "Similar principle to the tendrils, but I spread the particles around my body. Makes it look like my aura''s expanding. Anything that touches those particles, I can sense - gives me perfect 360-degree awareness in combat. In that area at least."


    Understanding dawned on Bill''s face. "But with Red and Blue watching your back-"


    "Exactly why it rarely sees use," Angelo finished. "Just something I developed after mastering tendrils. The foundation was already there, so..." He trailed off with a shrug.


    An awkward silence descended between them, broken only by the bustling sounds of the square and the distant echo of festival preparations.


    They were passing the gift shop when the door burst open with enough force to rattle the window display.


    "Wait!"


    The shout sent Bill nearly jumping out of his skin. They turned to find the shop owner rushing toward them, her impressive afro bouncing with each hurried step, threatening to achieve orbit.


    "Can we help you, ma''am?" Angelo asked, watching her catch her breath.


    She bent over, hands on her knees, taking a moment to collect herself. "It''s... it''s about what you asked yesterday. I think I can help you after all."


    Angelo and Bill exchanged puzzled looks. "What exactly changed between then and now?" Angelo''s tone carried a hint of suspicion.


    "I told my friends about our encounter," she straightened up, wringing her hands. "One of them... she says she knows something about the rumor. Says she needs to tell you in person." Clara''s voice dropped. "She seemed really worried. I''ve never seen her like that."


    "What do you think?" Angelo directed inward. "Worth looking into?"


    "I find myself supremely indifferent to the matter," Blue''s detachment could have frozen helium.


    "Hey, beats walking in circles all day," Red''s essence swirled with mild interest. "Maybe we''ll get lucky and something exciting will happen."


    Bill watched Angelo''s distant expression with knowing patience, having grown used to these momentary pauses when his mentor consulted his other selves.


    "Alright," Angelo finally nodded. "I''ll meet with your friend."


    Clara''s hands trembled slightly as she pulled out a piece of paper. "This is her address. Her name is Jill..." She seemed unable to meet his eyes.


    "Something''s got you spooked, ma''am," Angelo observed, studying her anxious movements. "What aren''t you telling us?"


    "I just..." she wrapped her arms around herself. "I''m worried she''s mixed up in something dangerous. And now the Angel of Death is going to her house..." She shuddered. "I can''t shake this awful feeling."


    "It''s just a conversation," Angelo assured her, keeping his voice steady. "I''ll ask my questions and be on my way."


    They turned to leave, but Clara''s hand shot out, catching Angelo''s sleeve. "Please," her voice cracked. "Be gentle with her. She... she lost her son last year. He was about..." Her eyes drifted to Bill. "About his age."


    She collected herself, "I know she puts a brave front, but I know how hurt she is inside. I can''t help worrying..."


    "Don''t worry," Bill stepped in, offering his most reassuring smile. "I''ll make sure the boss behaves himself." He cast a nervous glance at Angelo, who responded with an amused smirk that did nothing to settle Clara''s nerves.


    "Right then, rookie," Angelo''s orange aura flared to life as he pulled out his phone, entering the address. "Let''s move - it''s getting late. Try to keep up."


    "Red, time to move." Angelo shot at Red internally.


    "Yeah, yeah, I heard ya." Red shot back. Rushing to Angelo''s location.


    Energy tendrils erupted from his body, latching onto nearby rooftops. They pulled taut, launching him skyward with practiced ease. Bill followed close behind, his wind aura giving him natural advantages in speed and altitude. Together they bounded across Novaria''s rooftops, leaving a very worried shop owner staring after them.


    As Clara watched them disappear into the growing dusk, she couldn''t shake the feeling that she''d just set something terrible in motion. The festival lanterns swayed in the evening breeze, casting strange shadows that seemed to whisper warnings she couldn''t quite hear.


    <hr>


    They landed softly before the designated address, their auras dissipating like morning mist. Angelo''s finger had barely touched the doorbell when the door opened, revealing a woman whose beauty seemed almost crafted - blonde hair catching the last rays of sunset, ice-blue eyes that somehow managed to be both welcoming and unnervingly intense.


    "Good evening," her voice carried the softness of silk hiding steel. "Are you..." She left the question hanging delicately.


    "The Angel of Death," Angelo finished, trying to keep his tone casual. "Though Angelo works just fine."


    "Angelo..." She repeated his name as if tasting it, her mind clearly somewhere else.


    Angelo and Bill exchanged glances, a wordless conversation passing between mentor and student.


    "I''m Jill," she finally continued, her voice finding firmer ground as she offered them a smile sweet enough to cause cavities.


    "Something''s wrong," Red''s voice carried an unusual edge of warning. "Every instinct I have is screaming danger."


    Angelo pushed the warning aside. "I understand you have information about the rumor that''s been circulating?"


    "I..." Jill''s eyes darted nervously. "I''m not sure I should be discussing this..."


    "Are you kidding me?" Red''s voice practically vibrated with frustration. "She asks us here then plays coy? This reeks worse than month-old cheese!"


    "Stop it, Red," Angelo snapped internally before addressing Jill. "Whatever it is, you can tell us. We''re here to help."


    She met his gaze with perfectly crafted vulnerability. "Okay..." her voice barely above a whisper.


    "I''m telling you, she''s bad news incarnate!" Red insisted.


    "Enough, Red," Blue''s analytical tone cut in. "She''s clearly just a distressed civilian. Is this your idea of entertainment?"


    "Does this sound like my usual bullshit, you oversized blueberry?!" Red snarled. "When have I ever been this serious about a warning?"


    "Blue''s right," Angelo intervened. "This isn''t like you at all, Red. Since when are you the voice of caution?"


    Jill''s confession spilled out like rehearsed poetry. "I''m responsible for the rumor... Someone paid me to spread it. It seemed harmless enough at the time, I didn''t see the point, but the money..." She managed to look both guilty and innocent simultaneously.


    "Who was it?" Bill burst out, earning a sideways glance from Angelo.


    Jill shook her head, guilt etched in every perfect feature. "They were masked. I can only tell you where we met, though I doubt it matters now. They''re long gone."


    "Please," Angelo urged, "any detail could help. Even the smallest clue..."


    "You''re walking right into her web, you absolute moron!" Red''s voice dripped venom.


    "What is your problem? Got something against housewives?" Angelo demanded internally.


    "It''s not about her being a housewife, you fucking idiot! It''s HER specifically that sets off every alarm bell I have!"


    Her voice cut through their internal argument like a blade through silk. "It was Wine Street - that abandoned construction project from four years ago. The one they never finished..."


    Angelo nodded silently, already pulling out his phone. His orange aura flared to life as Bill''s wind aura stirred around him.


    "Boss," Bill ventured as they prepared to leave, "it''s nearly 8 PM. Visibility will be terrible."


    "True," Angelo acknowledged, "but evidence doesn''t age well. I''ve got a flashlight, and our auras can provide decent illumination - Blue''s especially, though Red''s is about as useful as a black light at a funeral. Head home if you''re concerned about getting back late, you''re officially off duty."


    Bill''s grin could have lit up the street by itself. "Not a chance! I''m with you all the way!"


    As they bounded across rooftops toward Wine Street, Red''s voice echoed one final time: "I''ve got a real bad feeling about this. That woman... something''s seriously wrong there."


    But his warning went unheeded as they raced through the deepening twilight.


    The festival lanterns throughout Novaria flickered to life as night fell, their cheerful glow a stark contrast to the darkness gathering in the shadows of Wine Street - shadows that waited hungrily for the Angel of Death''s arrival.

 18.1. Angel Vs Reaper

    The moon hung over Novaria like a watchful eye, its pale light catching on the festival lanterns strung between buildings. Against this backdrop, two figures bounded across rooftops with supernatural grace - Angelo propelling himself with glowing orange tendrils that moved like living smoke, while Bill rode currents of wind that swirled around him like invisible wings. Their muscles prickled from half an hour of sustained movement, fatigue clearly started building.


    Red''s presence erupted in Angelo''s mind like a firecracker. "Un-fucking-believable!" his voice crackled with frustration. "That perfectly polished housewife just sent us on a wild goose chase to the ass-end of nowhere! And you two idiots are just happily playing along!"


    The constant criticism frayed Angelo''s already strained nerves. "Will you shut up?" he snapped aloud, the words escaping before he could stop them. Bill shot him a concerned glance, worry creasing his young features.


    Red''s essence swirled with sarcastic energy. "Oh, I''m sorry, am I interrupting your lovely evening stroll to literally the other side of town? Please, don''t let my completely reasonable concerns stop you from walking right into whatever this is!"


    Blue''s calming presence cut through their shared consciousness like a cool breeze. "Your sudden development of common sense is both fascinating and suspicious," he observed with clinical detachment. "Though perhaps these insights might have been more valuable fifteen minutes and several miles ago."


    His timing proved impeccable as Angelo and Bill touched down at Wine Street''s entrance, their feet stirring up clouds of dust from neglected pavement that sparkled in the moonlight. The abandoned development stretched before them like a forgotten movie set - half-finished houses stood in various states of decay, their empty windows staring out like hollow eyes. The few working streetlights cast sickly yellow pools that seemed to emphasize the darkness rather than banish it.


    The metallic click of Angelo''s flashlight cut through the silence like a gunshot. A small smile tugged at his lips as an idea formed. "Wanna see something cool?" he asked Bill, rare pride coloring his voice. An energy tendril materialized from his body like orange mist shaped like a rope. He mounted the flashlight at its tip, creating a floating beacon that swept across the skeletal buildings.


    Bill''s eyes lit up with undisguised wonder. "Holy shit, that''s amazing!" he exclaimed, watching the dancing beam with childlike fascination. "And here you were downplaying this technique earlier. Man, what I wouldn''t give to do something that precise." He demonstrated by creating a small whirlwind in his palm, the air visibly distorting like heat waves. "Wind''s great and all, but try getting it to hold still for more than half a second. It''s like trying to nail jelly to a wall."


    Angelo shrugged, though pleasure at his student''s enthusiasm warmed his chest. "Give it time, rookie. Maybe your aura will evolve into something that can pull off party tricks like this."


    They picked their way through the construction graveyard, Angelo''s floating flashlight casting dancing shadows across broken walls and exposed beams. Bill kept stealing glances at the hovering light, his earlier exhaustion forgotten in childlike fascination.


    "That''s seriously cool," he said, gesturing at the energy tendril setup with undisguised admiration.


    Angelo allowed himself a small smirk. "Eh, it has its moments."


    Blue''s measured thoughts cut through their shared consciousness like a teacher calling attention. "Angelo, while I hate to interrupt this charming exchange, I feel compelled to point out that your investigative approach lacks... strategic efficiency."


    "Oh really?" Angelo''s mental voice dripped with exaggerated patience. "Please, Professor Blue, enlighten us with your superior investigative wisdom."


    "Consider the psychology of clandestine meetings," Blue pressed, ignoring the sarcasm with his usual detachment. "If you were arranging a secret rendezvous, would you conduct it in the middle of an exposed street where any passerby could witness it?"


    "Under normal circumstances, no..." Angelo began internally, "... Unless you do it in an abandoned street!" The words exploded from him with enough force to make Bill jump.


    Red''s presence surged through their shared mind, tension making his usual playful energy sharp as broken glass. "For fuck''s sake, there''s nothing here but rats and rubble! We''re being played morons!"


    "Well, well," Angelo prodded, trying to lighten the oppressive atmosphere. "Look who finally rejoined the conversation. Getting scared of the dark, Red?"


    Instead of his usual biting comeback, Red merely grumbled something unintelligible. The uncharacteristic response sent chills down Angelo''s spine - Red being serious was like seeing a cat enjoying a bath.


    The beam from Angelo''s suspended flashlight cut through the darkness like a sword, but the shadows seemed to grow deeper with each passing moment, as if the night itself was gathering around them. Their bickering died as the light caught something - a dark shape that drank light like a black hole.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "Wait." Red''s voice sliced through their shared consciousness, every trace of his usual playfulness burned away by dread. "Light that bench again..." His tone carried such raw fear that Angelo''s stomach clenched like a fist.


    The beam swung back, revealing a figure that seemed born from the shadows themselves. They sat motionless on the bench, wrapped in a black robe that absorbed what little light touched it, hood drawn forward to hide their face. Bill''s heart plummeted as his wind aura flared defensively around him like a shield.


    Angelo''s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits as the figure rose with unnatural grace, their movement fluid as water. The hood tilted up, and delicate hands reached to pull it back, revealing Jill''s perfect features caught by the flashlight beam.


    "Shit," Angelo muttered, the word heavy with sudden understanding.


    "Don''t wanna say I told you so, but..." Red''s ominous thought trailed off, for once finding no satisfaction in being right.


    Jill''s smile remained fixed in place like a porcelain mask, more terrifying than any snarl could have been. The silence stretched between them tight as a tripwire, waiting to snap.


    "Alright," Angelo broke the tension, his energy vision scanning her form like a living radar. Her power signature registered deceptively low - the kind you''d expect from someone who''d never thrown a punch, let alone fought an Auron. "You''ve successfully lured me here. But something doesn''t add up. How did you beat us here?" His orange eyes glowed as he studied her, like a detective spotting inconsistencies. "You''re clearly an Auron, that much is obvious. But the speed required-"


    "I don''t usually converse with my prey," Jill interrupted, her melodic voice making the word ''prey'' sound like a lover''s endearment. Her perfect smile widened a fraction, like a predator baring its teeth. "But you... you''re special. I want to savor your reaction..."


    Bill edged closer to Angelo, his voice barely above a whisper. "Boss, I really don''t like where this is going."


    "Me neither." Angelo''s response was hard as stone. "Bill. When I give the word. Run." The command carried the weight of absolute authority.


    Jill continued as if they hadn''t spoken, her voice taking on a dreamlike quality that made the hair on the back of Angelo''s neck stand up. "I had a son... he was seventeen... he died a year ago..." Her expression shifted like ice cracking, beauty fracturing to reveal something monstrous beneath. "Because of you!" Her finger stabbed toward Angelo like a physical weapon.


    "That''s impossible!" Angelo shot back, trying to recall anything of the sort. "I''ve never crossed someone that young!"


    "Not you specifically!" Her composure shattered like glass, rage twisting her perfect features into something inhuman. A red-pink aura exploded around her like a bloody sunrise, her eyes igniting with an unnatural pink glow that pierced the darkness like laser beams. "The police! My boy fell in with the wrong crowd, yes. Their influence led him to that chase. But it was the police who killed him! They wield their power without consequence, deal death without repercussion!" Her voice rose to a fever pitch that echoed off abandoned walls. "That officer went home to his family while mine was destroyed! Though ''went'' is the operative word now."


    Her cackling bounced off the buildings like broken bells, setting Angelo''s teeth on edge. His orange aura flared in response to the growing threat, casting wild shadows across decaying structures.


    "You..." Angelo''s voice shook with barely contained fury as realization hit him like a train. "Are you saying..."


    "I took my revenge," she purred, satisfaction dripping from every word like honey mixed with poison. "And I kept going, delivering judgment under the mantle of The Grim Reaper. Reaping your putrid souls - it''s exactly what you deserve."


    The revelation struck Angelo like a physical blow, his aura intensifying until it lit the street like a miniature sun. Bill cast increasingly worried glances between his mentor and the monster wearing a housewife''s face, backing away on instinct.


    "You''re lying!" Angelo''s denial carried desperate hope. "We would have heard about this!"


    Jill''s laughter cut through the night like shattered crystal. "Oh, but you did! I left a calling card each time. Your superiors just kept it quiet - too ashamed to admit they couldn''t catch one grieving mother!"


    "No... that''s impossible," Angelo''s voice grew hoarse as his last hopes crumbled like dried leaves. "A civilian can''t possibly overpower trained Auron division officers..."


    Her chuckle turned dark and predatory, like a wolf''s growl dressed in silk. "A civilian? No, they couldn''t." She clenched her fists, muscles tensing like coiled springs. "But you see, when my son died..." Her aura began to shift and writhe, transforming from a simple glow into what looked like living flames of pink-red energy. The color deepened as the flames danced around her form, each flicker seeming to bend reality like heat waves over hot pavement. With a grunt of effort that seemed almost pleased, she released a shockwave that kicked up dust and debris in a perfect circle. When it cleared, her transformation was complete - and any trace of the grieving mother had vanished like morning dew.


    "Evolved..." The word fell from Angelo''s lips like a lead weight, reality crashing down around him.


    "Angelo, we need to abort - NOW!" Blue''s voice cracked through their shared consciousness like breaking ice, his usual analytical calm shattered by genuine panic. "This situation has escalated far beyond our capabilities!"


    "God, I want to tear her apart so badly..." Red''s essence vibrated with violent desire before deflating like a punctured balloon. "But fuck me, we''re completely outmatched here. We stay, we die."


    "That''s how she beat us here..." Bill''s voice quavered as understanding clicked into place. His eyes darted between Angelo and the transformed monster before them, pupils dilated with fear. "Boss, what''s the play?!" The desperate question bounced off abandoned buildings like a frightened bird.


    Jill''s perfect features twisted into something inhuman, her smile stretching too wide for her face. "Oh, what a glorious night this has become!" She raised her arms skyward in mock celebration, and the air itself seemed to shiver. Metal conjured around her skin like twisted vines, forming skeletal gauntlets that ended in wickedly sharp talons. "The Angel of Death himself, soon to join my collection of putrid souls!"


    The metal continued to grow and shift like living mercury, coalescing into a massive scythe that she caught with practiced grace. The weapon''s blade caught what little light remained, its edge promising nothing but pain. Combined with her flowing black robes and skeletal gauntlets, the transformation was complete - the grieving mother had become death incarnate.

 18.2. Angel Vs Reaper

    There she stood, the grieving mother was nowhere to be found, in her place a monster born from evolution, death itself - The Grim Reaper.


    Angelo''s mind raced through options like flipping through pages in a burning book. "Can''t outrun an Evolved Auron - she''d catch us before we made it three blocks. Only shot is keeping her focused on me." His voice hardened with resolve like steel being tempered. "Bill, the second she''s fully engaged with me, you run. That''s not a suggestion, it''s a direct order!"


    Bill swallowed hard, visibly torn between loyalty and terror. The raw fear in his eyes made him look even younger than his sixteen years.


    "Red, Blue," Angelo''s thoughts cut through their shared mind like a blade through darkness, razor-sharp with focus. "She doesn''t know about you yet. That''s our only advantage. We play this like with the Infernian Force Auron."


    "A distraction is needed while we charge the attack," Blue''s analytical mind was already mapping possibilities like a general plotting strategy.


    "Exactly. I''ll keep her busy. Once you''re materialized behind one of these buildings, hit her with everything we''ve got. If we''re lucky-"


    The thought shattered as Jill launched herself forward like a released arrow, moving faster than any human eye could track. The scythe''s blade sang through the air where Angelo''s head had been a heartbeat earlier. His energy tendril had already latched onto a nearby building like a grappling hook, yanking him and Bill backward in a movement more spider than human.


    Jill''s eyes narrowed at the unnatural escape, curiosity flickering across her perfect features. "Interesting trick."


    "NOW!" Angelo''s command crashed like thunder. In the same instant, three figures scattered like startled birds - Bill vanishing behind one half-finished house while Red and Blue''s smoke forms slipped behind another. The coordination was perfect, each movement flowing into the next like a practiced dance.


    Angelo rose to his full height, orange aura blazing around him like a living flame. "Time to see if this technique has any merit after all." His aura expanded outward, forming a sphere of misty energy that wrapped around him like a protective cocoon.


    Jill''s response was immediate and brutal. With a flick of her wrist, nearby lampposts tore free from their concrete bases, whipping toward Angelo like metal serpents. But something impossible happened - he dodged attacks he couldn''t possibly have seen coming, his body twisting between strikes that should have crushed him like paper.


    "Clever boy," Jill breathed, genuine surprise coloring her voice. Her fingers splayed wide, and the air filled with spinning metal blades that screamed through the night like angry wasps. Yet somehow Angelo danced between them, moving with impossible precognition as if he could see attacks before they happened.


    Behind their chosen building, Red and Blue materialized, immediately thrusting their hands forward. Energy - crimson and azure - poured from their palms like liquid light, swirling together in a violently unstable sphere. "Don''t let up, Angelo," Blue muttered through clenched teeth, "Just a little longer..."


    "Stay focused on your attack!" Angelo''s thought cut through their concentration like a whipcrack. "I''ll handle her!"


    Meanwhile, Bill crouched behind decaying walls, his phone''s screen casting an eerie glow across his determined features as he frantically typed messages calling for backup. His hands trembled slightly, but his jaw was set like iron. He couldn''t abandon his mentor - not like this. The air between his palms began to compress like an invisible balloon being squeezed, just as they''d done against the Force Auron. The unfinished buildings offered perfect sightlines through their skeletal frames, like windows into a deadly theatre. All he needed was the right moment...


    Angelo''s dance with death continued, his Aura Area technique letting him sense attacks from every direction like an invisible radar. Each dodge seemed to defy physics itself, his body moving just ahead of strikes that should have been impossible to anticipate.


    Blue''s thoughts cut in "Almost there Angelo, when I give you the sig-"


    BOOM


    Hope turned to ashes in his mouth as a thunderous explosion rocked the street. His heart plummeted as Red and Blue''s unstable energy detonated prematurely, their smoke forms rushing back to Angelo''s body like scattered mist being sucked into a vacuum.


    "Fuck!" Red''s essence roiled with frustration like a stormy sea. "We had one shot, and we blew it! We are so monumentally screwed!"


    Blue''s usual cool crumbled like sand. "Angelo, I... we..."


    Jill leaped toward the explosion''s source like a predator pouncing, her scythe raised high. "Show yourself!"


    Angelo seized the moment of distraction, gathering every ounce of energy he could control until it felt like his body might burst. "Let''s see how you handle THIS! ENERGY WAVE!" The beam that erupted from his hands lit up the street like artificial dawn, orange power condensed into a beam of pure force.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    Jill turned back to face him, her smile turning predatory as a wolf spotting wounded prey. One gauntleted hand stretched out almost lazily, and Angelo''s world tilted sideways - his energy didn''t strike her, it was being consumed. The skeletal gauntlet drank in his orange power like a black hole, beginning to glow with his stolen light.


    "How..." The word escaped him in a horrified whisper, his confidence evaporating like morning dew.


    Jill''s laughter echoed through the abandoned street like broken wind chimes. "Oh, this little thing?" She admired the glowing gauntlet with mock modesty, turning it this way and that. "I call it ''Void Metal'' - though really, it''s just a very peculiar sponge. It does love drinking up energy attacks." Her smile turned razor-sharp. "But the real fun part? It doesn''t just absorbs..."


    Her arm snapped forward like a striking snake, and Angelo''s own energy rocketed back at him with devastating force. His tendrils barely yanked him clear as his attack carved a glowing path through the night like a comet''s tail.


    "Shit," Angelo muttered, bitter irony twisting his mouth. "I literally just mentioned this to Bill. Some mentor I turned out to be..."


    The night had only begun to show its teeth, and already their options were running out like sand through an hourglass.


    "Any brilliant ideas would be really appreciated right now!" Angelo''s thoughts carried rising panic as he ironically faced down death itself, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Because fighting solo clearly isn''t working out!"


    "You''re not fighting alone, dumbass!" Red''s voice carried an unusually warm undertone that caught Angelo off-guard, like sunshine breaking through storm clouds. "When everything went to hell with Blue, I noticed something weird about that angry energy mass. Managed to shift to smoke at the last possible second."


    "That''s fantastic, but we''re still severely lacking in the ''not dying'' department!" Angelo''s mind raced as he watched Jill''s predatory stance, her body coiled like a serpent ready to strike.


    The Grim Reaper pressed a metal-clad hand to her cheek, drinking in Angelo''s mounting desperation like fine wine. "Oh yes," she purred, her voice dripping with twisted delight. "That look of dawning horror - it''s absolutely perfect! Give me more!"


    "This witch is completely off her fucking rocker!" Red''s voice dripped with disgust like oil on water.


    "Focus!" Blue''s voice cracked with uncharacteristic panic. "We need a strategy, now!" The guilt in his tone was obvious as the image of their failed attack flashed through their shared consciousness again, a reminder of their dwindling options.


    The memory sparked something in Angelo''s mind like flint striking steel. "Wait - Albert''s theory! Our energies naturally repel each other!"


    "Fascinating scientific principle," Blue shot back, his usual analytical calm fracturing under stress like thin ice. "But how exactly does that prevent us from being eviscerated?!"


    "We hit her together - me and Red! If she absorbs both our energies, maybe they''ll destabilize like they did with you and Red!"


    "That''s... actually brilliant," Blue''s confidence flickered back to life like a rekindled flame.


    "Better move fast," Red warned, eyeing Jill''s increasingly predatory posture. "Because our resident psychopath looks ready for round two!"


    Red''s crimson smoke poured from Angelo''s body like blood in water, twisting and coalescing into his physical form. The sight stopped Jill dead in her tracks, her perfect features twisting with confusion as two identical figures faced her down.


    "What manner of trickery is this?" she hissed, uncertainty cracking her composed mask for the first time.


    They seized the moment of confusion, unleashing a devastating barrage of orange and crimson energy blasts that lit up the night like fireworks. Jill drove her scythe into the ground like an anchor, both gauntleted hands stretching wide to catch their assault. The void metal began to glow with an ominous dark orange light, like metal about to melt.


    "Yes, feed me your power!" Jill crowed, her voice rising with manic glee. "Every attack only makes me-" Her voice faltered as something shifted in her gauntlets, the metal beginning to vibrate like a tuning fork struck too hard. A high-pitched whine filled the air, setting teeth on edge.


    The explosion that followed lit up the street like daybreak. Void metal shattered into glittering shards as opposing energies tore each other apart, the force launching Jill backward like a ragdoll. Her scythe went spinning away, embedding itself in the skeletal framework of an unfinished house with a metallic shriek.


    "Now''s our chance!" Angelo shouted, his hand shooting backward in a practiced motion. Red mirrored him perfectly, their synchronized movements fluid as water as they began charging their ultimate technique - the same devastating blast that had felled the Infernian lightning Auron.


    But Jill rose like a vengeful spirit, one hand extending imperiously toward her lost weapon. The scythe ripped free from the building''s embrace as if called home, returning to her grip like a loyal pet. She launched forward with terrifying speed, the weapon''s blade singing through the air like a metal banshee.


    Angelo and Red''s voices rang out in perfect unison: "Mixed Energy Wave!" The combined blast lit up the night like a newborn sun, orange and crimson power merging into a beam of devastating force.


    But Jill had learned from her earlier mistake. Instead of trying to absorb the attack, she brought her scythe around in a perfect arc. The blade split their energy wave cleanly in two, the halves shooting sideways hitting the unfinished structures.


    Time seemed to crystallize into perfect clarity. Angelo saw the attack coming but his body wouldn''t move fast enough - like trying to run in a nightmare. Red lunged sideways, throwing his shoulder into Angelo''s ribs to shove him clear - and the scythe carved through Red''s materialized form like he was made of tissue paper. But Angelo wasn''t completely unscathed; the blade''s tip opened a deep gash across his chest, blood immediately soaking his shirt in a spreading crimson stain.


    Jill''s eyes gleamed with triumph as she raised her scythe for the killing blow, the blade catching moonlight like a promise. This time, there would be no escape.


    "VACUUM CANNON!"


    The shout came from behind one of the houses, followed by a sound like all the air being sucked from the world. Jill''s eyes widened in genuine surprise as she was catapulted sideways by an invisible force, her body smashing through walls with devastating impact. The entire structure groaned like a dying beast before collapsing inward, burying the Grim Reaper under tons of concrete and steel.


    Angelo turned toward the source of his salvation, his movements sluggish with pain and shock. There stood Bill, his uniform coated in gray dust, hair disheveled, eyes wide and unfocused as he fought to stay upright. His chest heaved with exhaustion, and his aura flickered and died like a candle in strong wind, completely spent from channeling such power.


    The rookie''s eyes met his mentor''s across the rubble-strewn street, carrying equal parts triumph and bone-deep weariness. He had refused to run, and in doing so, might have just saved the Angel of Death himself.

 19. I Believe In You!

    The last rays of sunset had long since faded from Chief Ramirez''s office window, leaving only the harsh fluorescent lights to cast their unforgiving glow across his weary features. His hand was halfway to the light switch when a commotion erupted in the hallway - running footsteps and urgent voices growing louder by the second.


    The door burst open with enough force to rattle the plaques on his wall. Vivian stumbled in, her usually composed demeanor shattered, followed by two officers whose faces had gone chalk-white. The fear radiating from them made Ramirez''s blood run cold before they''d uttered a single word.


    "Sir!" Vivian''s voice cracked with barely contained panic, her hands trembling as she gripped the doorframe. "The Grim Reaper - we''ve confirmed it! An Evolved Auron! They''re facing off against Angelo and his trainee right now!"


    The color drained from Ramirez''s face as his worst fears crystallized into horrifying reality. His coffee cup slipped from nerveless fingers, shattering against the floor. Neither he nor his officers even flinched at the sound.


    "WHAT?!" The word exploded from him as he surged to his feet, his chair slamming backward. "How in God''s name did this happen?!"


    "There''s no time for details!" Vivian pressed, desperation making her usually professional tone sharp with urgency. "His trainee managed to get a distress call out - they need immediate backup!"


    Ramirez''s fist struck his desk hard enough to make his name plate jump. "Where?!"


    "Wine Street!"


    "Wine Str-" The chief''s eyes widened with dawning horror. "That''s on the other bloody side of the city!" His voice rose to a roar that made the windows vibrate.


    "Exactly!" Vivian''s composure cracked completely. "Sir, we need orders, NOW!"


    The chief''s training kicked in, pushing aside his shock as he barked rapid-fire commands. "Every available officer, mobilize immediately!" He jabbed a finger at the ashen-faced officers behind Vivian, sending them scrambling into action. "Contact our people at the factory - tell them it was a setup! Redirect to Wine Street, maximum speed!"


    Vivian spun toward the door, but Ramirez''s voice cracked like a whip: "Wait!"


    She froze mid-step as the chief''s next words carried deadly weight: "Alert all non-Auron officers in the vicinity - weapons free, full tactical response."


    "Sir!" Vivian whirled back, horror evident in her features. "Standard firearms against an Evolved Auron?! That''s suicide!"


    "If it''s a low level Auron, there might be a chance," Ramirez''s voice carried the weight of command decisions that could cost lives. "Now GO!"


    As Vivian''s footsteps faded down the corridor, Ramirez turned to face his reflection in the darkened window. The fluorescent lights cast deep shadows across his face, aging him a decade in moments. His whispered curse carried the weight of a prayer: "Damn it all to hell..."


    He snatched his hat from its hook with enough force to send the stand toppling, but he was already striding through the door, leaving only silence and scattered papers in his wake.


    <hr>


    For one glorious moment, hope flared in the ruins of Wine Street as Bill''s devastating wind attack sent Jill crashing through concrete and steel. The unfinished house groaned and collapsed, burying the Grim Reaper under tons of debris. Dust billowed outward like fog, coating everything in a fine gray powder.


    "You absolute idiot!" Angelo''s voice cracked with a mix of fury and fear as he rounded on Bill. Blood from his chest wound had already soaked through his uniform, turning the fabric a dark crimson. "I gave you a direct order to run!"


    Bill stood his ground despite his trembling legs, his wind aura completely spent. "I couldn''t just leave you to die!" The raw emotion in his voice echoed off the abandoned buildings.


    "Congratulations," Angelo snarled, "now we can both die together! Is that what you wanted?!"


    "But look, she''s still down!" Bill''s defiant response was overshadowed by Red''s panicked voice slicing through their shared consciousness.


    "WHAT ARE YOU TWO MORONS STANDING AROUND FOR?! FUCKING RUN!"


    Angelo''s eyes widened as reality crashed back in. "Oh shit, right!" He lunged forward, ignoring the burning pain across his chest as he grabbed Bill. Energy tendrils erupted from his body, launching them away from the collapse.


    Behind them, a scream of pure rage shattered the night. The sound was followed by an explosion that lit up the street like daybreak as Jill''s evolved power obliterated the wreckage entombing her. Chunks of concrete rained down around them as they fled.


    "Fuck," Angelo muttered, yanking Bill into one of the skeletal houses. His aura winked out instantly, plunging them into darkness. One hand clamped over Bill''s mouth as they both tried to control their ragged breathing. The rookie''s heart hammered so hard Angelo could feel it through his palm.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    "WHERE ARE YOU, YOU LITTLE WORM?!" Jill''s voice carried a twisted sing-song quality that made their skin crawl.


    Blue''s measured tones whispered through their shared mind, "If she moves in the opposite direction, we might have a chance to slip away under cover of darkness..."


    "I KNOW YOU''RE AROUND HERE!" Her words echoed off empty buildings before her voice dropped to something almost playful. "Fine. I know exactly how to flush out little weasels like you."


    The air itself seemed to vibrate as she raised one skeletal gauntlet. Metal coalesced above her palm, growing and writhing until it formed a massive sphere that gleamed dully in the weak streetlight. The wrecking ball hung suspended, promising nothing but destruction.


    "Oh fuck me," Angelo breathed, his whisper barely audible.


    The sphere crashed through the first house with devastating force, reducing it to splinters and dust. "Not here," Jill''s voice dripped false disappointment. The ball retracted only to smash through another building. "No, not there either. What about... here? Or here?"


    Each impact drew closer to their hiding spot, the destruction methodical and inevitable. Finally, Jill''s silhouette appeared before their refuge, her perfect features twisted into something inhuman as she smiled.


    "Time''s up," she purred.


    The wrecking ball screamed toward them. Angelo''s aura exploded to life as he burst from cover, the sudden movement throwing Bill clear. The rookie tumbled behind a pile of rubble as Angelo fell to his knees in the middle of the street, chest heaving as he faced down death incarnate.


    "Hehehe, finally found you," Her voice carried the satisfaction of a cat cornering its prey.


    Desperation drove Angelo to action. With a cry that was half defiance and half fear, he unleashed an energy beam at mid range. Jill''s response was almost lazy - her scythe swept up in a graceful arc, drinking in his attack until the weapon glowed with stolen orange light.


    "Now now," she chided, as if speaking to a particularly slow child, "know when to admit defeat." Her eyes gleamed with twisted joy as she savored every moment of his growing despair.


    The situation had deteriorated beyond Angelo''s worst fears. His uniform, torn and bloodied, clung to him like a second skin as he crouched before The Grim Reaper. Each breath came in ragged gasps, sending sharp jolts of pain through his ribs where Jill''s scythe had carved a path across his torso. Blood dripped steadily from the wound, each crimson drop a stark reminder of his mortality.


    With both Red and Blue''s physical forms destroyed, forced to retreat within him to recover, Angelo felt more alone than he had in years. From his peripheral vision, he could see Bill''s terror-stricken face peeking out from behind a chunk of debris, his mentor''s desperate situation etched into every line of his young features.


    Jill''s laughter echoed through the devastated street, a sound that held no trace of sanity or mercy. She twirled her scythe with deadly grace, the orange glow of Angelo''s absorbed energy dancing along its blade.


    "Look how far the mighty have fallen," she taunted, her voice rising with manic glee. "The feared Angel of Death, cowering like a wounded animal! Don''t worry - I''ll make sure they engrave something fitting on your tombstone. ''Here lies another corrupt officer, reaped like the worthless chaff he was!''"


    "Come on, think!" Angelo''s desperate thought echoed in their shared consciousness. "There has to be a way out of this."


    Red''s response blazed with fury. "That evolved witch! One lucky break and she thinks she''s invincible. If I could just materialize again¡ª"


    "Focus!" Blue''s mental voice cut through with razor precision. "We need to create distance. In our current state, close combat is suicide."


    Jill stalked closer, her footsteps deliberate and predatory. "I heard you give criminals an ultimatum. What''s wrong, Angel? No righteous speeches about justice? No final judgments to pass?" Her lips curled into a cruel smile. "How disappointing. I expected more from Novaria''s most infamous executioner."


    Panic surged through Angelo''s thoughts. "We''ll never outrun her in this condition! Other options, now!"


    But it was too late. Jill''s muscles coiled like a serpent about to strike. "Die knowing you failed, ''Angel.'' Just like all the others!" She launched forward with explosive force, her weapon singing through the air with lethal intent.


    Angelo braced for the killing blow that never came.


    When his eyes snapped open, the world seemed to swim into focus with cruel clarity. There stood Bill, his young frame somehow looking smaller than ever in his oversized uniform, with Jill''s scythe protruding grotesquely from his chest.


    The weapon''s handle slipped from Jill''s suddenly nerveless fingers. "No," she whispered, stumbling backward. "No, no, NO... not again... not like him..." Her brilliant aura flickered and died as she retreated, her earlier bloodlust replaced by horror.


    "BILL!" Angelo''s scream tore from his throat as he lunged forward, catching his falling prot¨¦g¨¦. "Stay with me, rookie. That''s an order!"


    Blood bubbled at Bill''s lips as he fought to speak. "I really... messed up my first week... didn''t I, boss?" He attempted a weak laugh that turned into a wet cough. "Mom''s... mom''s gonna kill me..."


    "Don''t talk like that!" Angelo''s voice cracked with desperation. "MEDIC! SOMEBODY GET A DAMN MEDIC HERE NOW!"


    Bill''s trembling fingers clutched at Angelo''s shirt. "Listen... please..." Each word seemed to cost him tremendously. "You showed me... what it means to be strong. Not just... powerful, but strong... inside..."


    "Save your strength," Angelo begged, tears falling freely now. "Please, Bill. You''ve got so much to live for..."


    Through the pain and encroaching darkness, Bill''s voice grew fainter but more urgent. "Promise me something... you''re not bound by your limits... You can reach the top... even the Arch Tournament... show everyone... what the Angel of Death... really means..."


    "Stop it!" Angelo''s voice broke. "You''ll tell them yourself! You hear me? That''s another order!"


    Bill''s bloodied lips curved into that same earnest smile he''d worn since day one. "Sorry, boss... but this time... I''ve got to disobey..." His grip weakened. "I believe... in you..."


    The fingers gripping Angelo''s shirt went slack. Bill''s eyes drifted closed, that unwavering smile still on his face - the same expression of carefree innocence he''d shown on their first meeting. Even in death, he looked like nothing more than a rookie excited about his first day on the job.


    In their shared consciousness, Red and Blue remained utterly silent, their usual banter replaced by a heavy, grief-stricken quiet. Behind them, Jill''s broken murmuring continued, lost in her own private hell of memories and regret.

 20. The Angel of Death Evolves

    Angelo knelt in the debris-strewn street, cradling Bill''s lifeless form as memories crashed over him in merciless waves. He saw Bill''s first terrified reaction to Red''s materialization, heard the echo of their charged conversation over pizza, felt the surge of pride when the rookie had saved his life during the terrorist attack. Every patrol, every lesson, every moment of their brief time together played out in crystal clarity, each memory now tainted with the knowledge that there would never be more.


    "Three times you saved my life," Angelo whispered, his voice raw with grief as tears fell onto his prot¨¦g¨¦''s peaceful face. "And in the end, I couldn''t do a damn thing for you..."


    The world beyond his grief began to intrude - Jill''s fractured voice carrying on the wind. "Not like this... not another child... I didn''t mean..." Her broken mumblings pierced through Angelo''s consciousness like shards of glass.


    Each word from her lips made his stomach heave, bile rising in his throat as white-hot fury began to replace his sorrow. His teeth ground together with such force that pain shot through his jaw, but he barely noticed. Red and Blue''s usual chatter had gone silent in his mind - or had it? It was unclear. Everything seemed distant, muffled, as if he were underwater. The world blurred again, not from tears this time, but from rage so pure it threatened to consume him.


    Jill spun to face him, her eyes wild with renewed madness. "This is what you bring!" she screamed, her voice rising to a hysterical pitch. "Everything you officers touch turns to death! You''re the real monsters here! YOU MADE ME DO THIS!" Her aura flared back to its evolved brilliance as she raised her blood-stained scythe.


    But the moment her gaze met Angelo''s, she froze. Though he remained on his knees, still clutching Bill''s body with desperate tenderness, his face had transformed into something terrible. The grief was still there in the tears that streamed down his cheeks, but it was overshadowed by an expression of such primal fury that it seemed to distort the very air around him.


    "Monsters?" The word escaped through Angelo''s clenched teeth, each syllable dripping with barely contained rage. "I''ll show you a real monster."


    His aura began to flicker erratically as nausea gripped him. Heat coursed through his body like hot oil in his veins, building to unbearable levels. With his arms still cradling Bill, the pressure of his rage demanded release. Six energy tendrils erupted from his body, their smoky forms whipping through the air with violent, unfocused fury, striking uselessly against concrete and steel.


    Then, something shifted.


    The change began subtly - his flickering aura taking on a different quality, like a candle''s flame transforming into an inferno. The orange glow intensified, consuming the very air around him as the sound of his tendrils'' impacts changed, each strike now resonating with physical force. Before Jill''s disbelieving eyes, the ethereal appendages began to solidify, growing denser with each passing second.


    "No... impossible..." Jill breathed, her perfect composure shattering as the truth dawned on her. Her grip tightened around her scythe with white-knuckled intensity, ready to attack¡ªto stop this at all costs. However, the writhing mass of tendrils left no path to strike, each wild, unpredictable arc carving savage paths through concrete and steel like molten whips.


    The appendages twisted with mechanical precision, as if guided by a mind consumed by fury rather than conscious thought. They bore the weight of physical mass behind them, transforming what had once been ghostly extensions into weapons of devastating force. A scream tore from Angelo''s throat - raw, primal, filled with grief and rage and power. The now-tangible tendrils, glowing like molten metal, crashed against the street and surrounding buildings. Concrete cracked, steel buckled, each impact leaving craters and sending spiderweb cracks racing across the ground in expanding circles around Angelo''s kneeling form. The destruction spread in an ever-widening circle as he unleashed his newborn power on everything within reach.


    Jill stumbled backward, every instinct screaming at her to flee. She recognized what was happening - how could she not? She had undergone the same transformation, her own evolution born from the same bitter cocktail of loss and fury. But as she watched Angelo''s transcendence, a chilling realization struck her: in her attempt to punish what she saw as corrupt authority, she had created something far more terrifying.


    "What have I done?" The words escaped her in a horrified whisper as the Angel of Death rose before her, transformed by the very pain she had inflicted.


    With infinite tenderness that belied the inferno raging within him, Angelo lowered Bill''s body to the sidewalk, positioning him as if the young officer had simply fallen asleep on duty. Jill remained frozen, her eyes tracking his every movement like prey watching an apex predator''s approach.


    Angelo''s expression transformed into something beyond mere coldness - a void so absolute it burned. He raised his arm with deliberate grace, and an energy tendril spiraled upward in response. As he closed his fist, the ethereal appendage underwent a stunning metamorphosis - condensing and crystallizing until it resembled a tentacle of flowing molten metal that pulsed with inner light.


    "I see," he murmured, his voice carrying an unsettling calm as he opened his palm, watching the tendril dissolve back into smoke. "The power to forge energy into solid form... ''Forged Energy'' then,"Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    When he turned to face Jill, his eyes blazed with a hatred so pure it seemed to distort the air around him. "Two can play at your game," he declared. Forged Energy rippled outward, weaving itself into robes that glowed with an inner fire. The hood cast deep shadows across his features, while above his head, a perfect ring of solidified energy materialized - a halo that promised not salvation, but judgment. With a gesture that split the night itself, he conjured a scythe of pure Forged Energy, its blade drinking in what little light remained.


    The Angel of Death and The Grim Reaper faced each other in the ruined street, a twisted mirror of divine retribution.


    "You now gaze upon the messenger of justice," Angelo intoned, his voice resonating with terrible purpose. "You shall be judged. For your crimes, I hereby sentence you to death." The words fell like hammer blows in the darkness - no choice offered, no mercy extended. The Grim Reaper had proven herself beyond redemption''s reach.


    Terror finally broke through Jill''s paralysis. She spun and fled, but Angelo''s pursuit was inexorable as fate itself. His evolved power let him close the distance with terrifying ease, each step carrying the weight of inevitable judgment.


    Their scythes met in a shower of sparks and screaming metal. "NO!" Jill''s cry held the desperate edge of prey realizing escape was impossible. Angelo''s gaze bore into her with the weight of mountains, as an enormous gauntlet of Forged Energy materialized around his arm. The construct closed around her throat with crushing force, lifting her into the air as life itself began to fade from her eyes.


    In desperation, she clawed at the energy construct with her void metal gauntlets, seeking to drain its power - but the Forged Energy remained solid and unyielding. Only a wild slash of her scythe finally severed the gauntlet''s grip, sending her crashing to the ground. She barely rolled clear of Angelo''s retaliatory strike, scrambling to her feet with a shriek of pure terror, she yelled, "Get away from me!" as she ran.


    Energy tendrils erupted from the ground before her like the teeth of some ancient beast, forcing her to hack desperately through their writhing mass. Angelo gathered his power without a word, unleashing an energy wave that turned night to day. Jill spun to face it, arms spread wide to absorb the attack - only to watch in horror as the energy solidified mid-flight into a massive tendril that slammed her aside before coiling around her like a constrictive serpent.


    Angelo approached with measured steps, each footfall marking the countdown to her execution. In a final burst of desperate strength, Jill conjured a storm of metallic projectiles that shredded her bonds - but Angelo was already airborne, his scythe describing a perfect arc through the night. Their weapons met one more time in a clash that shook the street. For a moment they stood locked in deadly embrace - until crystalline sharp tendrils of Forged Energy erupted from the underground behind Jill, punching through Jill''s body like she was made of paper.


    Blood fountained from her lips as her scythe slipped from nerveless fingers, the weapon crumbling into smoke as it fell and hit the ground. Her aura guttered and died as she met her executioner''s gaze one final time, acceptance replacing terror in her eyes. Then she crumpled, nothing more than another soul claimed by the Angel of Death.


    <hr>


    His newfound power finally ebbed, his aura flickering and dying like a candle in a storm. As distant sirens pierced the night, Angelo''s legs gave out beneath him. He crashed to his knees among the wreckage of Wine Street, his body a canvas of cuts and bruises beneath his shredded uniform.


    Medics swarmed around him immediately, their voices a distant buzz as they worked to stabilize his injuries. Through the chaos, his gaze drifted inexorably to where another team of medics huddled around Bill''s body. They were drawing a sheet over him with practiced efficiency, and before his face was covered, he saw Bill''s smile one last time - that same earnest smile still etched upon his features, now frozen for eternity. That expression, once so full of life and admiration, now served as a crushing reminder of Angelo''s hollow victory. He had evolved, had claimed vengeance, had grown stronger than he''d ever dreamed possible - and none of it meant anything in the face of that still-smiling visage.


    Chief Ramirez''s car screeched to a halt at the scene, its emergency lights casting alternating shadows across his horror-stricken face. The tableau before him was a nightmare made manifest - Angelo on his knees, surrounded by medical personnel, with two bodies lying in the street like discarded dolls. The only small mercy was that one of those bodies belonged to the Grim Reaper rather than his young officer.


    With leaden steps, Ramirez approached Angelo''s hunched form. The young man''s shoulders shook with silent sobs, his gaze fixed on the ground as if it might swallow him whole.


    "Are you alright, son?" Ramirez''s voice carried none of its usual gruffness, replaced by a gentleness that somehow made everything worse.


    Angelo''s shoulders shook as he stared at his bloodied hands. "I evolved..." his voice cracked with bitter irony. "I got stronger... and he still..." A ragged breath tore from his throat. "Chief, I- I couldn''t save him. Bill, he- he just wanted to help me, and I let him die!" His fists clenched until his knuckles went white. "What kind of mentor am I?!"


    "Angelo-" Ramirez started, but Angelo wasn''t finished.


    "He believed in me!" The words erupted from him like physical blows. "Right until the end, he kept saying he believed in me! And I failed him! I FAILED HIM!" His voice rose to a hoarse shout that echoed off the ruined buildings.


    Ramirez knelt beside his broken officer, removing his hat with trembling hands. When he spoke, his voice carried the weight of command decisions that would haunt him forever. "No, Angelo. The failure was mine. I knew..." He had to pause, steadying himself. "I knew about the Grim Reaper."


    Angelo''s head snapped up, tears cutting clean tracks through the grime on his face. "What...?" The single word carried volumes of disbelief.


    "I thought I could use you as bait," Ramirez admitted, each word seeming to age him further. "Set a trap for the killer who''d been taking my officers by spreading those rumors... And in my arrogance, I..." His voice finally broke. "I got that boy killed. His blood is on my hands, not yours."


    "Chief..." Angelo''s voice was barely a whisper.


    "You might blame yourself for tonight," Ramirez said, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, "but I''m the one who''s going to have to tell that boy''s mother why her son isn''t coming home." He placed a heavy hand on Angelo''s shoulder. "That burden is mine to bear, son. Not yours."


    The sirens continued their mournful song as mentor and superior sat in shared grief, each carrying a weight that would never truly leave them. That night, two souls were claimed by the Angel of Death - mother and son, united in tragedy. The grieving parent who became a monster died by his sword, while the earnest rookie who dreamed of being a hero died as his shield. In the end, they were not so different - both lives cut short by the unforgiving hand of lady justice, their stories forever intertwined in the dark legends of Novaria''s streets.

 21.1. Grim Reality

    Through half-lidded eyes, I gaze across an endless desert that stretches like a frozen ocean beneath a star-strewn sky. The air carries the metallic tang of discharged energy, thick with tension and the remnants of battle. In the distance, jagged mountains tear at the horizon like obsidian teeth, their peaks silhouetted against a blood-red moon.


    All around me, the night erupts in a symphony of chaos. Aurons clash in mid-air, their auras painting the darkness in a dazzling array of colors. Each collision sends shockwaves rippling through the sand beneath my prone form, the vibrations thrumming through my bones. Explosions bloom like deadly flowers, their light casting writhing shadows across the dunes.


    I try to push myself up, the cool desert air raising goosebumps along my arms. My hands catch my attention - they''re encased in unfamiliar gauntlets, their surface drinking in what little light reaches them. Something feels wrong, out of place. My aura flares to life, but instead of its usual orange, it blazes with golden radiance. The sight triggers something in my mind, a memory just out of reach. Ah, yes. Now I remember.


    My body moves with liquid grace as I surge to my feet. In the space between heartbeats, I close the distance to my opponent - the one who had knocked me down. Our exchange of blows defies human limits, each strike generating concussive force that makes the very air shudder. I can feel the impacts reverberating through my entire being, raw power threatening to tear reality apart.


    Time slips through my fingers like desert sand. An unspoken understanding passes between us, and we leap apart in perfect synchronization. I bring my palms together, feeling multiple streams of energy coalesce between them. The power compresses, warps, forming a sphere of such intense darkness that it seems to devour the starlight. The gravitational force is immense - I can feel it trying to pull my hands together, to crush everything into its infinite depths.


    Through the corner of my eye, I see their attack approaching. The words tear from my throat, resonating with power that makes the mountains tremble:


    "THEORY OF POWER!"


    The black orb detonates, reality itself seeming to bend as blinding light consumes everything...


    <hr>


    Sleeser''s eyes snap open, a gasp of pain escaping his lips as consciousness crashes back. The harsh white ceiling of the hospital room spins above him before slowly steadying into focus. Every inch of his body pulses with agony beneath the sweat-soaked bandages that wrap his torso and limbs. The desert dream clings to his thoughts like fine sand, refusing to be brushed away despite his return to waking.


    "Just a dream..." he mutters, his voice rough as sandpaper. The words leave a coppery taste in his mouth, making him grimace.


    Through the half-open door drift fragments of urgent voices and hurried footsteps, the unmistakable rhythm of a hospital in crisis. Gritting his teeth, Sleeser forces himself to sit up. Pain lances through him like lightning, drawing a sharp hiss as his muscles scream in protest. Cold sweat beads on his forehead from the effort.


    He leans forward, peering into the fluorescent-lit hallway. The harsh overhead lights cast deep shadows across his face, making the lines of exhaustion more prominent. A stretcher rushes past in a blur of motion, and Sleeser''s heart seems to stop mid-beat. That hair splayed across the pillow ¨C though disheveled and matted with dark blood ¨C is achingly familiar. The same shade he''s watched grow from boyhood to youth, the same color as his student Angelo''s.


    A staff member stands nearby, worry carving deep lines around his eyes as he watches the urgent movements of the medical team. Sleeser reaches out instinctively, his hand trembling not just from his injuries but from rising fear.


    "What happened?" The question comes out as barely more than a whisper, his throat too tight to manage more.


    The worker startles at the unexpected voice, spinning around. Recognition dawns in his eyes as he takes in Sleeser''s bandaged form propped in the doorway. "What? Oh ¨C it''s the Angel of Death." He shakes his head, disbelief evident in his expression. "Took on an Evolved Auron, if you can believe it."


    The bottom drops out of Sleeser''s world. "What¡ª" A violent cough tears through him before he can finish, feeling like shards of glass in his lungs. His eyes remain locked on the distant stretcher as it disappears around a corner, dread clawing at his chest.


    "What''s his condition?" The words carry unmistakable urgency despite his weakened state, his knuckles white where they grip the doorframe.


    The worker''s eyes narrow slightly, catching the personal undertone in Sleeser''s voice. "He''ll make it," he assures, though his guarded expression suggests he''s choosing his words carefully. "Got a nasty gash across his torso. Passed out from blood loss, but he''s stable."


    Relief floods through Sleeser with such force that his knees nearly buckle. He takes an unsteady step toward the operating room''s waiting area, but the worker''s hand shoots out to block his path.


    "Where do you think you''re going?" The worker''s tone leaves no room for argument, firm as a hospital regulation. "In your condition, the only place you''re headed is back to bed."This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Exhaustion settles over Sleeser like a weighted blanket, his body trembling visibly from just these few moments of standing. After a brief internal struggle that shows in his clenched jaw, he allows himself to be guided back to his room. But as he lies there in the darkness, sleep dances just out of reach. His mind spins between the dream''s vivid images and worried thoughts about Angelo, weaving an anxious tapestry that refuses to let him rest.


    The night stretches endlessly before him, marked only by the steady electronic beeping of monitors and the distant symphony of a hospital working to save lives. Somewhere in this sterile maze of corridors lies the young man he had trained, now paying the price for walking the path Sleeser had helped set him upon. The thought weighs heavier than any physical pain, keeping him company through the long hours until dawn.


    <hr>


    The morning sun crept through the hospital window like a shy visitor, casting long fingers of golden light across the room''s sterile white walls. The air held that distinct hospital smell - a mix of disinfectant and stale coffee that made Sleeser''s nose wrinkle. Down the corridor, nurses'' shoes squeaked against polished floors and breakfast carts rattled past, their wheels catching on tile seams. Medical equipment created a steady symphony of beeps and hums, the heartbeat of the hospital itself.


    Sleeser gripped the metal railing of his bed, muscles trembling as he forced himself upright. Every injury screamed in protest - the cracked ribs from that devastating blow, the deep bruises that painted his torso in shades of purple and black, the dozen smaller wounds that together felt like being hit by a truck. But he had to move. Had to check.


    A rough laugh cut through his concentration. "Well, look who thinks they''re ready for a marathon."


    In the next bed over, Axel watched him with knowing eyes, his signature cocky grin somehow intact despite everything. The man was a study in contrasts - spiky black hair with those rebellious blue-dyed tips that no amount of battle seemed to mess up, face marked with fresh cuts, bandages wrapping his muscular frame like a fighter''s hand wraps. Even beaten half to hell, Axel managed to look more amused than injured.


    "What''s got you moving like your pants are on fire?" Axel asked, shifting to get a better look and immediately wincing as the movement pulled at his wounds.


    Sleeser tried for his usual confident smile, but it came out more like a grimace. Every facial expression tugged at the cuts scattered across his features. "Just need to handle something, Axel. Won''t take long."


    Axel''s eyebrow shot up skeptically, reopening a fresh cut above his eye. A drop of blood beaded at the edge. "Must be pretty damn important if you''re willing to crawl there."


    "Give it a rest, Axel." The gentle rebuke came from across the room, where Force sat propped against a mountain of pillows. His long emerald hair cascaded around his face in tangled waves. Despite his shorter stature, Force''s compact frame radiated barely contained power - like a compressed spring or a coiled snake. Those gentle lime-green eyes and perpetual soft smile seemed at odds with his warrior''s build as he added, "Though he''s not wrong, Sleeser. You''re pushing awful hard for someone who could barely move yesterday."


    Sleeser turned to face them both, carefully controlling his expression as fire raced along his nerve endings. He could feel sweat beading on his forehead just from standing. "Since when did you two join the worry-warts club?" He tried to inject some humor into his voice, but the underlying tension made it shake. "I''ll survive. There''s just... someone I need to see."


    Before they could protest further, he slipped out into the hallway like a ghost escaping its grave. Each step felt like walking on broken glass, but he forced himself forward. The information desk nurse took one look at his battered face and pointed him in the right direction with sympathetic eyes. He followed the room numbers like breadcrumbs, each one bringing him closer to his goal.


    When he finally reached the right door, the sight beyond it stole his breath more effectively than any punch to the gut. Angelo lay motionless on pristine white sheets, looking impossibly young and vulnerable. Cuts and bruises mapped constellations across his face, while stark white bandages peeked out from beneath the thin hospital gown. His skin had taken on the pale, waxy look of someone who''d lost too much blood. Only the steady drip of the IV and the shallow rise and fall of his chest proved he still lived.


    The plastic chair by the bed protested loudly as Sleeser lowered himself into it, but he barely noticed the discomfort. All his attention was fixed on his former student''s still form.


    "Someone''s here," Red''s voice echoed through their shared consciousness, alert even in sleep.


    "A visitor perhaps?" Blue''s tone carried measured curiosity.


    "Angelo..." The name escaped Sleeser''s lips like a prayer, heavy with guilt and relief.


    "Hold on..." Red''s mental voice sharpened with recognition. "Sleeser? Is that really him?"


    "The timbre matches," Blue confirmed, ever the analyst.


    "Hey! Wake up! Our boring old teacher''s here!" Red''s voice rose to a mental shout that seemed to bounce off the walls of their shared mind. "ANGELO!"


    "Have you lost what little sense you possess?" Blue''s usually calm voice cracked with irritation. "He needs rest to heal!"


    Sleeser watched Angelo''s face contort, clearly caught in some internal struggle even while unconscious. It hurt to see him like this - so different from the determined young man he''d trained. "Even unconscious, you can''t catch a break, can you?" he murmured, guilt settling on his shoulders like a lead weight. "The universe really does have it out for you, kid..."


    "RISE AND SHINE, SLEEPING BEAUTY!" Red''s mental voice reached a crescendo.


    "I swear by all that''s logical¡ª" Blue''s protest was cut short.


    "WAAAAAKE UUUUUP!" Red''s mental scream reverberated through their shared consciousness like a thunderclap.


    Angelo''s eyes snapped open, body jerking upright on instinct. "WHAT THE¡ªARGH!" The sudden movement pulled at his wounds, sending visible waves of agony across his face. He doubled over, one hand clutching at his bandaged chest as if trying to hold himself together. "RED! What the hell is wrong with you?!"


    "You have a guest," Red replied with infuriating casualness. "Just trying to be helpful."


    Angelo''s head whipped to the side, eyes widening as they landed on his former master. Sleeser sat frozen, his own considerable injuries temporarily forgotten in the face of this explosive awakening.


    "Sleeser?" Angelo''s voice cracked like thin ice, fingers unconsciously twisting in the cheap hospital sheets. Morning light carved deep shadows under his eyes, highlighting both old scars and fresh cuts across his features.

 21.2. Grim Reality

    Angelo lay in his hospital bed, evidently surprised to see his old master merely hours after everything that transpired. And even more surprising, dressed in hospital attire himself.


    Sleeser attempted a reassuring smile, but worry made it wobble at the edges. "Quite a night you had, from what I hear." He tried for his usual playful tone, but concern bled through like water through paper. "Taking on an Evolved Auron and living to tell about it? That''s something else, kiddo." The forced lightness in his voice couldn''t hide the fear etched into the lines around his eyes.


    Angelo''s gaze dropped to his hands, now clenched into white-knuckled fists atop the blanket. "I..." His voice caught in his throat like something sharp and painful. "I lost him, Sleeser. My trainee. I got him killed." The words fell between them like stones, each one heavy with guilt and grief.


    The color drained from Sleeser''s face, his own injuries momentarily forgotten in the face of this revelation. "Your what?"


    The story poured out of Angelo like a breaking dam - every detail crystal clear despite his exhaustion. He spoke of Bill''s earnest smile and unwavering faith, painting a picture of a young man whose enthusiasm for life had been infectious. His voice grew hollow as he described following seemingly harmless rumors through Novaria''s streets, only to walk straight into the Grim Reaper''s trap. When he reached the deadly dance of combat and Bill''s final, devastating sacrifice, his words became clipped and clinical - as if emotional distance was the only way he could bear to relate it. Even describing his evolution, triggered by overwhelming loss and rage, came out like a medical report rather than the life-changing moment it had been.


    Sleeser sat motionless in the hard hospital chair as Angelo''s story unfolded, his eyes closed against the harsh morning light. Pain etched deep lines in his face that had nothing to do with his physical wounds. Sunlight caught the traces of gray threading through his usually vibrant hair, making him look older and more vulnerable than Angelo had ever seen. When he finally spoke, his voice came out barely above a whisper. "An emotional evolution," he murmured, the words hanging in the antiseptic air like mist. "Those are rare... usually it takes being at death''s door to trigger such a change. That''s how it happened to me."


    Angelo''s head snapped up so fast the room spun, his vision swimming with black spots. His eyes went wide as the implications hit him like a physical blow. "You''re... you''re an Evolved Auron?" The words started as a shocked whisper but rose quickly, disbelief giving way to hot anger that brought color flooding back to his pale cheeks. "Then why weren''t you there?! If you''d been investigating the Grim Reaper, Bill would still be¡ª" His voice cracked and shattered like thin ice, the possibilities too painful to voice. The mere thought of how things might have been different felt like reopening a fresh wound.


    "Angelo..." Sleeser shifted in his chair, the movement cautious and controlled. For the first time, Angelo truly saw the extent of his mentor''s injuries - the way he held his torso rigid to protect cracked ribs, the layers of bandages visible beneath his borrowed hospital clothes, the tiny grimaces of pain that flickered across his face with each breath. "I wasn''t around. These injuries..." He gestured at his battered body with a wince. "They tell their own story."


    Shame crashed over Angelo like a wave, weighing him down until his hands trembled against the thin hospital blanket. "What do I do, Sleeser?" The question came out as barely more than a breath, raw desperation making his voice shake. "How do I keep going after this?"


    Sleeser''s stern expression softened, new worry lines etching themselves around his eyes as he chose his next words with visible care. "That''s not an easy question to answer, kiddo." He leaned forward despite the pain it clearly caused him. "I can''t truly know your pain, but..." His voice caught, thick with emotion. "The thought of losing you? It helps me understand. At least a little."


    Angelo looked up sharply, caught off guard by the naked feeling in his usually composed mentor''s voice.


    "But you have something many others don''t," Sleeser continued, his tone growing firmer, more purposeful. "You heard his last words, his final wishes. That''s a gift, Angelo, though it might not feel like one right now." He paused, weighing each word like precious stones. "And there''s something else - something you need to do, even though it''ll be one of the hardest things you''ve ever faced. You need to visit his mother."Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    Angelo''s breath caught in his throat like a physical thing, his chest tightening around the mere thought.


    "I know Chief Ramirez has already been there," Sleeser pressed on gently but firmly, "but she needs to hear from you too. Needs to hear her son''s last words from the person who was there. If you don''t..." His voice grew softer, understanding tempering the steel. "It''ll eat at you, bit by bit, until there''s nothing left but regret."


    "He speaks wisdom," Blue''s measured tones resonated through their shared consciousness like ripples in still water. "Mrs. Dealer deserves to hear how her son died a hero."


    Angelo stared at the blank hospital wall, his mind a storm of conflicting emotions that played across his face like shadows. Sleeser watched the internal battle rage before slowly, painfully pushing himself to his feet. "I''ll be in room 404 if you need me. After you''ve spoken with her..." He left the invitation hanging in the air as he made his way to the door, each step careful and measured like a man walking on broken glass.


    "He''s right," Angelo whispered to the empty room, the words barely stirring the still air. Moving sent spears of pain through his torso, but he forced himself through the motions - removing the IV with practiced care, changing into his street clothes despite protesting muscles. His orange aura flickered to life like a guttering candle, a tendril of smoky energy reaching out to ease the window open. Moments later he found himself on the streets of Novaria, each step a careful negotiation with his injured body.


    "This is going to take forever," he thought, frustration mounting as pain forced him to maintain a civilian''s slow pace.


    "Let us help," Red''s voice carried an unusual gentleness that made Angelo pause. "Activate your aura. Give us a chance to recharge, and we''ll carry you there."


    Angelo''s orange aura sprang to life around him like a protective cocoon, though the effort made his wounds throb in protest. They paused in a small park where morning dew still jeweled the grass. Red emerged in a swirl of crimson smoke that coalesced like gathering storm clouds.


    "Finally!" Red stretched dramatically, his form seeming to drink in the freedom of materialization. "Being cooped up like that, felt like being trapped in a box for centuries!" His face split into that characteristic wild grin as he turned to Angelo. "But now? Now I get to try something new!"


    Red''s crimson aura erupted around him like a sunrise, but there was something different about it - something more. The energy writhed and grew until it resembled living flames, raw power radiating from him in waves that made the air itself vibrate.


    Angelo''s eyes widened as understanding struck. "You can evolve too?"


    "It''s logical," Blue''s analytical voice cut through their shared consciousness like a knife through fog. "Our forms are perfect replicas of yours, sharing even injuries. Evolution should be no different."


    "Time for a test drive!" Red''s grin turned wicked as a tendril of forged energy - solid and real as any physical thing - wrapped around Angelo''s waist like a safety harness. "Buckle up!"


    "Wait, this is a terrible ideAAAAH!" Angelo''s protest transformed into a startled yelp as Red launched them both skyward, his newly evolved power letting them soar over buildings like birds taking wing.


    <hr>


    The Dealer house stood before them like a mountain Angelo had to climb. Every detail from their last visit stabbed at his heart - the neat flower beds Bill''s mother tended with such care, the brass nameplate that had sparked playful jokes just days ago, the green door where they''d last seen her standing as Bill bounded off to what would be his final patrol. The morning light cast the modest home in gentle colors that felt like a mockery of his grief.


    Angelo''s raised fist trembled in the cool air, knuckles frozen inches from the door. Behind him, Red bounded away toward a nearby park, his newly evolved power crackling around him like bottled lightning as he sought distraction. The departure left Angelo truly alone with his task, each breath feeling like lifting weights as he finally forced himself to knock. He found himself silently bargaining with the universe, pleading that no one would answer.


    The door''s hinges creaked softly, the sound echoing through his bones like a funeral bell. Mrs. Dealer stood in the doorway, her appearance a testament to a mother''s grief - eyes red and swollen from endless tears, dark shadows beneath them speaking of a night spent in sleepless anguish. The sight hit Angelo harder than any physical blow. She studied him for a long moment, sorrow etched into every line of her face, before stepping aside without a word. The invitation in her gesture was clear as daylight...

 21.3. Grim Reality

    Angelo crossed the threshold into a home that felt both foreign and achingly familiar. Family photos lined the hallway walls, while the air carried that indefinable scent of a place filled with love and memories. His heart clenched tighter with each detail his eyes absorbed. When the door clicked shut behind him, it sounded final as a jail cell closing.


    "I was hoping you would come," she said, her voice rough like someone who had screamed their grief into pillows until her throat was raw.


    "Mrs... Mrs. Dealer, I-" The words caught in his throat, sharp as broken glass.


    "Please," she interrupted with unexpected gentleness, "call me Miriam."


    That simple kindness shattered something inside him. "I don''t understand," he burst out, composure cracking like thin ice. "You should hate me! You should be screaming, throwing things, blaming me! It''s my fault that... that..." His voice died as his throat closed around the awful truth.


    Without speaking, Miriam pulled out her phone, fingers shaking slightly as they navigated to a saved message. The timestamp showed last night, and Angelo''s heart seemed to stop beating entirely.


    "Mom... I have to be quick." Bill''s voice filled the hallway, slightly tinged with static but unmistakably, heartbreakingly him. Chaos roared in the background - destruction and that awful laughing that raised goosebumps on Angelo''s arms. "Me and Angelo, we''re in a tight spot. He ordered me to run, but I..." The pause carried the weight of destiny. "I can''t leave him to die, Mom! He reminds me so much of Dad, and... he''s like the big brother I never had!"


    Tears blurred Angelo''s vision until the hallway became a watercolor painting. Each word from the recording stabbed deeper than any wound.


    "Mom, listen - if something happens to me... you can''t blame Angelo for this, I forbid it! And if something does happen... I''m so sorry, Mom... I love you." The message ended with devastating finality, followed by a cascade of increasingly desperate messages from Miriam that would forever go unanswered.


    When Angelo managed to lift his gaze, he found Miriam''s eyes swimming with an ocean of pain, but completely devoid of the hatred he had expected - had perhaps hoped for, as fitting punishment for his failure.


    "My son saw a brother in you," she said, voice steady despite the tears trailing down her cheeks. "To hate you or blame his passing on you would dishonor his sacrifice and go against everything he believed in."


    Outside in the park, Red stood unnaturally still, his usual manic energy snuffed out as he listened through their shared connection. His evolved aura flickered and died like a flame in strong wind.


    "If you were a brother to him," Miriam continued, eyes closing as fresh tears escaped, "then you are a son to me. Those were his wishes..." Her voice caught like a snag in fabric. "And they are mine as well."


    Something deep inside Angelo - some wall he''d built brick by brick around his grief - came crashing down all at once. Tears spilled freely as he covered his eyes with his sleeve, shoulders shaking with the force of silent sobs. In that moment, all his carefully constructed identities fell away - he wasn''t the fearsome Angel of Death, wasn''t an evolved Auron with newfound power, wasn''t even an officer of the law. He was just a lost boy who''d never known a mother''s love, drowning in grief for a brother he hadn''t realized he needed until it was too late.


    Miriam stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, enveloping him in warmth that felt like everything he imagined home should be. The sensation was so foreign, so achingly unfamiliar, that it only made his tears flow faster. They stood there together, two broken hearts finding solace in shared loss, while morning light painted shifting patterns across the floor through their tear-blurred eyes.


    "I heard about your evolution," she said softly, still holding him like something precious. "They say emotional evolutions like yours are incredibly rare... that they come from pain so deep the body changes just to survive."


    Angelo could only nod against her shoulder, not trusting his voice to hold steady.


    "He must have meant so much to you," she whispered, the words gentle as a lullaby.


    "He did," Angelo managed, voice rough as sandpaper as they finally separated. "I''d never met anyone like him before. His positivity, his courage, his energy... No one had ever..." He swallowed past the lump in his throat. "He really was like a little brother to me."


    Gathering what remained of his composure like scattered autumn leaves, Angelo straightened his spine. "Mrs. Deal-- Miriam... I need to tell you his final words. It wouldn''t be right if you didn''t hear them."


    She went perfectly still, giving a small nod of permission, bracing herself like someone preparing for a physical blow.


    Angelo drew in a shaky breath that made his injured ribs protest. "He... he thought of you, even then. Knew how much this would hurt you. But he was still himself until the end - said you were ''gonna kill him'' for this." They shared a smile that held more pain than joy. "Then he told me I wasn''t bound by my limits, that I could reach the top - wanted me to compete in the Arch Tournament, I think." Miriam''s hand flew to her mouth as fresh tears spilled over her fingers. "He told me to show everyone what the Angel of Death truly means... said he believed in me..."


    She took a moment to compose herself, though tears still traced silent paths down her cheeks like rain on a window. "Thank you, Angelo," she said softly, then hesitated. "Could... could I ask you for a favor?"


    "Of course," Angelo replied, nervous energy making him shift his weight from foot to foot. "Anything."


    "Your evolved aura - would you show me?" The request hung in the air, seemingly at odds with the heavy emotion of the moment.


    Angelo blinked in surprise but nodded. "S-sure..." He stepped out into the morning light, each movement still carrying the stiffness of his injuries. Drawing a deep breath that made his wounds throb, he called forth his aura. The orange energy flickered around him like a living flame, growing more intense as he channeled more power. With a final grunt of effort that pulled at his healing wounds, he transformed - his evolved state casting dancing shadows across the front yard like a miniature sunrise.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "I''m an energy Auron," he explained, forming a sphere of pure power between his palms. "My evolved ability lets me do this..." The energy shifted visibly, its fundamental nature changing before their eyes. The glow remained constant, but something about it altered in a way that defied easy description. "It''s called ''Forged Energy'' - it becomes tangible, like solidified energy..." He demonstrated by reshaping it into a shield on his arm, feeling awkward under her intense scrutiny.


    To his alarm, Miriam burst into fresh tears.


    "What''s wrong?" Angelo asked, panic rising in his chest like a tide. "Did I-"


    "Don''t you see?" she interrupted, voice thick with emotion. "This forged energy... it''s Bill." Her words struck him like summer lightning. "He''s become your shield, protecting you wherever you go..."


    Angelo stared at the crystallized energy on his arm, understanding dawning in his eyes as a bittersweet smile spread across his face. "Yeah... I think you''re right."


    "One last thing," Miriam said, wiping at her tears with the edge of her sleeve. "When they ask to interview you - and they will - please say yes. Tell everyone about Bill''s heroism. Let his memory and legacy live on in their hearts."


    Angelo nodded solemnly, the weight of this new responsibility settling across his shoulders like a mantle. "I will. I promise."


    As he turned to leave, her hand caught his arm with gentle urgency. "Please visit sometimes," she said softly, her voice carrying hope beneath the grief. "You could... you could even live here if you wanted. Chief Ramirez told me about your family. This way..." her voice wavered like a candle flame. "This way neither of us would have to be alone."


    The offer hit Angelo like a physical blow, knocking the air from his lungs. His sparse apartment - the only home he''d known since leaving the orphanage - flashed through his mind. The concept of family had been nothing more than a distant dream for so long, something that happened to other people. Now here it was, being offered freely, and he didn''t know how to process it.


    "That''s..." Words scattered like startled birds, leaving him grasping at empty air.


    "You don''t need to answer now," she assured him, managing a watery smile that held echoes of Bill''s warmth. "Just think about it. I know you blame yourself, but... my door is always open for you."


    "Thank you, Miriam," he managed, the simple words feeling hopelessly inadequate against the magnitude of her offer. "I''ll consider it."


    As he walked away to meet Red in the park, his heart felt like it was being pulled in opposite directions - lighter from a forgiveness he hadn''t dared hope for, heavier with the responsibility of honoring Bill''s memory and the unexpected gift of a potential home. The morning sun stretched his shadow long across the dewy grass, but for the first time since Bill''s death, that darkness trailing behind him didn''t feel like an accusation. Instead, it felt almost like a companion, walking with him into whatever came next.


    <hr>


    Evening shadows crept like cautious cats across the hospital walls when Angelo first heard them - the eager murmur of voices behind his door, feet shuffling against polished floors, camera shutters clicking like mechanical crickets. He''d known this was coming, had been steeling himself for it since his promise to Miriam. Each movement pulled at his healing wounds as he pushed himself up from the bed and approached the door.


    The scene beyond hit him like a wall of sound and motion - reporters packed shoulder to shoulder, held back only by the stern-faced nurses who formed a human barrier. Cameras and microphones jutted forward like spears, while notepads fluttered in anxious hands like nervous birds. The moment Angelo appeared in the doorway, silence dropped over the crowd as if someone had thrown a heavy blanket over them all.


    Then chaos erupted. Questions burst forth like water from a broken dam, voices climbing over each other until the words melted into meaningless noise. Fluorescent lights caught camera lenses and made them glitter like predators'' eyes in the dark, all fixed on him with unwavering focus.


    Angelo''s eyes flashed orange like signal flares. "Silence," he commanded, his voice carrying a weight that had nothing to do with volume. The effect rippled through the crowd like a stone dropped in still water - reporters falling quiet as one, bodies unconsciously straightening as if called to attention.


    When his eyes returned to their natural brown, that same authority remained in his bearing. "I will tell you everything," he said, words cutting cleanly through the hushed corridor. "No questions. Just listen." The reporters exchanged uncertain glances before nodding agreement, microphones tilting toward him with trembling anticipation.


    He stood with his back against his door, using it like a shield to hide his room number - one last piece of privacy in this moment of public testimony. Red recording lights winked at him from dozens of cameras like dying stars in the artificial hospital lighting. Yet despite all those eyes pressing in on him, Angelo felt oddly calm. The words rose from somewhere deeper than thought, carried on the strength of his promise to a grieving mother.


    "My name is Angelo," he began, each word dropping into the silence like stones into still water. "Some know me as the Angel of Death. Two years ago, at sixteen, I joined the police through a special program for promising Aurons. After training, I earned my place in Novaria''s Auron division. Almost a week ago, I was assigned to mentor a new recruit - Bill Dealer." His voice softened on the name like someone handling something precious.


    "Neither of us knew we were walking into a trap set by the serial killer known as the Grim Reaper - perhaps chosen as a mockery of my own given title. In the confrontation that followed, Bill lost his life." Angelo paused, eyes closing briefly as if against physical pain. When they opened again, they blazed with fierce pride.


    "Bill Dealer was the bravest person I have ever known. He saved my life three times - first against Infernian terrorists, then twice more against the Grim Reaper herself. A sixteen-year-old rookie saved his superior officer without hesitation, without fear." His voice grew stronger with each word, carrying the weight of sworn testimony. "I want every household in Novaria to know what a hero this earnest, enthusiastic young man was. I want his name remembered not for how he died, but for how he lived - with unwavering courage and unshakeable faith."


    Angelo''s voice softened to something intimate, as if he''d forgotten the cameras entirely and was speaking directly to a ghost. "Bill, I will never forget you or your smile. Thank you for everything, and rest in peace... my brother."


    Without another word, he turned and walked away through the parting crowd. Questions exploded behind him like fireworks, but they felt distant and meaningless. His mind was already reaching ahead - to old mysteries about his parents still waiting to be solved, to new promises that demanded keeping.


    He had awakened this morning to a reality grimmer than any he''d known, to bitter truths and an abyss of despair that had seemed bottomless. But his conversations with Miriam and Sleeser had given him something unexpected - not just purpose, but permission to live, to grow, to honor the memory of the one who had believed in him until the very end.


    Tomorrow would bring new beginnings. Tomorrow, he would start walking the path that Bill had believed he could travel - not just as the Angel of Death, but as something more. Something worthy of a brother''s sacrifice and a mother''s grace.


    As night settled over the hospital like a gentle blanket, Angelo closed his eyes, feeling his evolved power thrumming through his veins like a second heartbeat - Bill''s final gift, his eternal protection. Tomorrow would come with its own challenges, but for now, he let himself rest in the knowledge that somewhere, somehow, Bill was still smiling that earnest, unwavering smile.


    And maybe, just maybe, that was enough to light the way forward.

 22. New Beginnings

    The sun rose over Novaria, the jewel in Luminia''s crown bathed in early morning light. The city buzzed with mounting excitement as the New Light Festival preparations entered their final week. Colorful banners and lanterns adorned every street corner, the decorations transforming even Bazel Hospital''s austere facade into something more festive, with delicate paper ornaments hanging in the entrance hall and along the corridors.


    Angelo woke with determined energy coursing through him, his injuries protesting but unable to dampen his newfound resolve. The starched hospital sheets rustled as he rose, his movements carrying purpose born from fresh goals and the will to achieve them. The antiseptic smell of the hospital surrounded him as he navigated the maze-like corridors, searching for a specific room number.


    "Your wounds have barely begun to heal," Blue''s voice carried measured concern through their shared consciousness. "Are you certain you''re ready for the rigors of training?"


    Angelo''s steps remained steady, his conviction evident in his voice. "We don''t have the luxury of waiting. If I''m going to reach the level of an Arch Tournament champion, I need to push beyond normal limits." He closed his eyes, memories of Bill''s final words lending weight to his resolve. "Whether it takes four times the effort or eight - I''ll do whatever it takes."


    "Your determination is admirable," Blue conceded, his analytical tone tinged with worry. "But there''s a fine line between pushing limits and self-destruction. Reopened wounds could set your training back by weeks."


    A cunning smirk played across Angelo''s features as his bandages pulled tight with each step. "That''s the beauty of our evolved state - Forged Energy can seal any wounds instantly. Besides, you and Red can''t bleed out. If I push too far, you can always drag my unconscious body back here."


    "Clever exploitation of our unique circumstances," Blue acknowledged with philosophical resignation. "Though perhaps tempting death''s attention isn''t the wisest training strategy."


    Angelo''s voice echoed softly in the empty corridor, his frustration evident. "This condition already holds me back enough - might as well take advantage of its few benefits."


    Their conversation was interrupted by Red''s disgusted mental cry. His smoky form, wandering as usual, had discovered the less appealing side of hospital operations. "Sweet merciful cosmos - you would not believe the horrors lurking in this kitchen! And they call this place sanitary?"


    "Consider it karma for your trespassing habits," Angelo thought with dry amusement. "Let that mental image haunt you."


    "Joke''s on you," Red snickered, his mental voice dripping with mischief. "You do realize those nightmares end up on your dinner tray, right? Besides, you''re hardly one to talk about trespassing - what exactly are you doing prowling these halls?"


    Angelo''s footsteps echoed against the polished floor as he countered, "There''s a slight difference between walking through public corridors and your explorations of restricted areas." His eyes caught sight of his destination. "Here we are."


    Room 404 loomed before him, the numbers gleaming dully in the morning light. Taking a deep breath that made his healing wounds twinge, Angelo pushed open the door.


    "So there I was," Axel''s eyes gleamed with mischief as he leaned forward, "the commander screaming what sounded like his mom''s secret recipe on my right, a whole pack of enemies doing their best angry hornet impression on my left... and me? All I had were two blades that couldn''t even cut through warm butter! But I-"


    The scene that greeted him was unexpectedly animated. Axel''s voice cut off mid-story, his scarred face lighting up with curiosity. "Well, what have we here? An unexpected visitor?"


    Sleeser''s familiar chuckle filled the room, his spiky yellowish-orange hair catching the light. "Ah, perfect timing for introductions. Axel, meet my most challenging student to date. Angelo, this is Axel - one of the finest warriors in my squad, though don''t let him hear me say that."


    "The infamous student himself!" Axel''s enthusiasm radiated as he grinned. "Sleeser''s told us plenty about you - though he neglected to mention you were more than just trouble!"


    Angelo shifted uncomfortably under the attention, feeling suddenly out of his depth. "I... appreciate the welcome. Though I''m sure Sleeser exaggerates."


    "Angelo," Force''s gentle voice carried its usual quiet strength. "It''s good to see you standing again. Recent events had us concerned."


    "Force," Angelo acknowledged, surprised to find the calm warrior here as well. "Good to see you too."


    Squaring his shoulders, Angelo tried to focus on his purpose. "Sleeser, there''s something important I need to discuss-"


    "Discussions can wait!" Axel interrupted, gesturing enthusiastically to a nearby chair. "You''ve got perfect timing - I was just getting to the good part of this story. Trust me, you''ll want to hear how this ends!"


    Angelo''s eyes sought Sleeser''s, finding amused approval in his mentor''s nod. With barely concealed reluctance, he moved toward the offered chair, his original purpose temporarily derailed by hospital room camaraderie.


    The morning light filtered through the hospital window as Axel regaled them with increasingly outrageous stories from his service, his animated gestures and infectious laughter filling the sterile room with warmth. His tales gradually shifted from epic battles to good-natured roasting of his squad leader.


    "Say Angelo," Axel leaned forward conspiratorially, his eyes gleaming with mischief, "bet you didn''t know Sleeser isn''t even his first name. It''s actually Ju-" He cut off abruptly as Sleeser''s expression transformed into something Angelo had never witnessed before - a look so stern it could have frozen fire.


    "My whole life has been a lie!" Angelo exclaimed, his own troubles momentarily forgotten in the face of this revelation. "Come on, now I really have to know!" His eyes darted between mentor and squad member like a spectator at a tennis match.


    Sleeser ran a hand down his face, his usual confidence cracking slightly. "Axel..." His voice carried a warning edge. "We had an agreement about this."


    "Oh come on," Axel''s grin widened as he gestured toward Angelo. "The kid''s practically family at this point, right?"


    Angelo nodded eagerly, trying not to look too much like an excited puppy.


    A deep sigh escaped Sleeser, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "It''s... Julius," he muttered, the name seeming to pain him physically.


    Red''s laughter exploded through their shared consciousness with enough force to make Angelo wince. "HAHAHA JULIUS SLEESER! You can''t make this shit up! It''s like something out of a bad historical drama!"


    "Julius?" Angelo repeated, tasting the unfamiliar name. "Julius Sleeser?"


    "Yes, yes," Sleeser waved a hand dismissively, his spiky hair seeming to droop with his embarrassment. "I know it sounds like something from those ancient nobility chronicles. Hence why I go by Sleeser."


    "Have you considered, um..." Angelo searched for a diplomatic way to phrase it, "legally modifying it?"


    Sleeser''s expression softened, a hint of fondness creeping in. "It''s my grandfather''s name. Mother would be heartbroken. Besides," he added with a wry smile, "she doesn''t need to know most people just call me Sleeser."


    The conversation might have continued, but movement caught Angelo''s eye - Red''s crimson smoke was seeping through the window cracks like blood through water. His essence coalesced behind Axel''s chair, taking on solid form with predatory grace.


    "Axel, behi-" Angelo''s warning died in his throat as Axel''s deep blue aura erupted to life with devastating speed. In the space between heartbeats, Red''s materialized form was cleaved in two, his essence dissolving back into smoke that rushed toward Angelo like a crimson tide.


    Axel''s entire demeanor had transformed, his earlier joviality replaced by lethal focus. His aura crackled with barely contained power as he scanned the window. "Stay sharp," he commanded, his voice carrying the weight of battlefield experience. "We''ve got company."


    Sleeser and Angelo exchanged knowing looks before their gazes drifted to Force, who merely offered his characteristic gentle smile in return.


    "Actually..." Angelo cleared his throat awkwardly, "there''s nothing to worry about. Well, unless you count Red''s wounded pride."


    Axel''s confusion was evident in the way his aura flickered. "Come again?"


    "That was... partially my fault. Though Red really should know better by now." Angelo''s attempt at explanation only deepened Axel''s bewilderment.


    With a resigned sigh, Angelo gestured for Axel to power down. "Just deactivate your aura. It''ll be easier to show you." Once Axel complied, Angelo spoke again: "Blue?"


    Azure smoke spiraled up beside him, condensing into another gray-tinted version of Angelo. The sight made Axel''s jaw drop.


    "What in the name of..." Axel blinked rapidly. "So this was just some failed prank attempt?"


    "I''m afraid the situation is rather more complex," Blue replied, his cultured tones so different from Angelo''s that Axel did a double-take. "I am Blue, and it''s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. The entity you dispatched with such impressive efficiency was Red, our more... spirited counterpart."If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Axel turned to Sleeser, his expression helpless. "I am completely lost here."


    Sleeser''s laughter filled the room. "Now this is priceless! Red, wherever you are, you''ve accomplished something I thought impossible - you''ve actually confused Axel!"


    "I live to serve," Red''s mental voice dripped with theatrical humility as his essence performed an elaborate salute that only Angelo and Blue could sense. "Though I must say, some appreciation for my sacrifices is long overdue."


    Angelo cut through the moment, wanting to clear up Axel''s obvious confusion. "Look, the short version is that my body''s energy somehow split into three distinct parts - myself, Red, and Blue. We share an existence, and they can manifest independently at will. Red just happens to use that ability primarily for chaos and pranks. Though," he added with grudging admiration, "I don''t think any of us expected that level of reaction speed."


    "No kidding!" Red''s internal voice carried genuine awe. "I didn''t even get to my signature ''BOO!'' before he turned me into a smoke show. Talk about stealing my thunder!"


    Sleeser seized upon the moment of levity, clearly grateful for any distraction from his name revelation. "Speaking of impressive displays," he said, steering the conversation in a safer direction, "what actually brought you here this morning? Something tells me it wasn''t just to uncover my true identity."


    The morning sunlight caught the determination in Angelo''s eyes. "Right. I need to take my training to the next level. Figured you''d know the best approach."


    Sleeser''s posture shifted subtly, his playful demeanor giving way to the measured authority of a seasoned instructor. "Now that you''ve evolved, your priority should be acclimation. Think of your evolved state as a new baseline - it needs to become as natural as breathing."


    "I don''t follow," Angelo frowned, his bandages pulling tight as he leaned forward. "I''ve already got the hang of my Forged Energy. The applications are practically second nature."


    Blue interjected. "I believe you''re missing the underlying principle," he observed, his voice carrying its characteristic analytical energy. "Consider our battle with Jill - the fight was relatively brief, yet you collapsed immediately after victory. Blood loss was certainly a factor, but the rapid stamina depletion from your evolved state was equally significant."


    "Full marks, Blue," Sleeser''s eyes gleamed with approval. "Couldn''t have explained it better myself."


    Understanding dawned in Angelo''s expression. "So there''s a way to reduce the stamina drain? To make it more efficient?"


    "Exactly," Sleeser nodded, his spiky hair catching the light. "With proper training, you can optimize your evolved state until it demands no more energy than your standard aura. That''s when it truly becomes your new normal." He paused for dramatic effect, a mischievous glint returning to his eye. "And the method to achieve this is... meditation!"


    Sleeser''s theatrical revelation fell flat as Angelo merely raised an eyebrow, prompting a look of betrayal from his mentor. "What happened to the kid who''d throw a fit at the mere mention of sitting still?"


    "Police training involved plenty of meditation," Angelo shrugged, his mature response clearly throwing Sleeser off balance. "I''m not that impulsive kid anymore."


    "You''re taking all the fun out of this," Sleeser pouted, though pride flickered beneath his disappointment. "But there is a crucial difference here. You''ll need to maintain your evolved state during meditation - let your body adapt to its new potential. And don''t neglect your physical training," he added, his voice taking on a sterner edge. "Spiritual growth without physical foundation is like a house built on sand."


    "Right," Angelo nodded, rising from his chair with newfound purpose. Then a smirk played across his face. "Thanks for the guidance... Julius."


    Sleeser''s eye twitched at the name, the power dynamic between mentor and student shifting palpably. "I''m already regretting this day," he muttered, running a hand through his spiky hair.


    Blue''s form began to dissolve into azure mist. "It has been enlightening," he offered politely before streaming back into Angelo''s body.


    "See you around," Angelo''s farewell carried a hint of playful threat as he turned to leave. The morning sun painted long shadows across the hospital floor as he made his way to check out, his mind already mapping out training scenarios. His injuries still ached beneath their bandages, but the pain seemed distant compared to the burning drive that pushed him forward.


    <hr>


    Sunlight washed over Angelo as he stepped through the hospital''s main doors, the crisp autumn air refreshing after the sterile atmosphere inside. He paused, fishing his phone from his pocket as an important detail surfaced through his eagerness.


    "Can''t exactly reach Arch rank if I don''t know where I''m starting from," he muttered, thumbing through the ACE test scheduling app. His shoulders tensed slightly at the thought of the results, but determination won out over apprehension. "There''s a slot tomorrow morning..."


    Red''s voice echoed through their shared consciousness with characteristic mischief. "Put me down for ''Novice'' in the betting pool."


    "Keep pushing it and you won''t get to recharge for a week," Angelo threatened mentally, his finger hovering over the scheduling button.


    "Ha!" Red''s smugness radiated through their link. "That would mean no training for you either, dumbass!"


    Angelo''s mental groan carried his grudging defeat. "...point taken."


    Their bickering ceased as a figure approached through the morning crowd. She moved like someone carrying an invisible weight, her stunning red hair catching the sunlight in stark contrast to the cloud of melancholy that seemed to surround her. Brilliant green eyes refused to meet Angelo''s gaze directly, though they held a depth of pain that made him unconsciously straighten.


    "E-Excuse me," her voice barely carried over the bustle of the morning crowd moving past the hospital grounds. "You''re Angelo, aren''t you?"


    Angelo shifted his weight, suddenly acutely aware of his healing wounds. "Yes... can I help you with something?"


    "Could we talk privately?" She gestured toward a small grove of trees where benches sat empty, sheltered from the morning bustle. "If... if that''s okay," she added hastily, her confidence seeming to waver.


    "Last private chat request didn''t end so well," Angelo''s voice carried an edge of dark memory. Internally, he reached out. "What''s your read on this one, Red?"


    "She''s legit," Red replied with uncharacteristic directness.


    "What happened to your hyper-vigilant paranoia? You were throwing red flags left and right with Jill."


    "This one''s different - not like that psycho bitch with her perfect makeup and fake-ass smile. She looks miserable as hell but at least she''s not trying to hide it."


    Angelo studied the girl for a moment longer, making her fidget uncomfortably under his gaze. She dropped her eyes to the ground, hands clasped tightly in front of her, before his nod finally broke the tension. "Alright, I''ll hear you out."


    Relief flickered across her features as they moved to the benches. The trees cast dappled shadows across them, creating an oddly intimate atmosphere in the middle of the busy hospital grounds. Angelo sat, gesturing for her to continue.


    "My name is Neiva," she began, gathering her courage like a shield. "And I want to join your team."


    Angelo stared at her, momentarily struck speechless. "Team? What team? I''m not recruiting."


    "Please, just... hear me out," Neiva shifted her weight, autumn leaves crunching beneath her feet. "If you knew my reasons, you might think differently."


    Angelo leaned back against the bench, curiosity winning out over dismissal. The morning air carried the antiseptic smell of the hospital mixed with the earthier scents of fallen leaves.


    "Four years ago, when I was thirteen," Neiva''s voice grew distant, lost in painful memory, "an Auron broke into our home. My father - he was an Auron too, but before he could even activate his aura..." Her voice cracked, hands clenching at her sides. "My mother hid me, tried to lead the intruder away. She confronted him..." The words died in her throat, the memory too raw to voice.


    Shadows from the overhanging branches played across her face as she continued. "I lost everything that day. And he escaped - they couldn''t catch him." Bitterness crept into her tone, making her sound far older than her seventeen years.


    "After that, everything just... stopped mattering. Chess club, Auron training, even tennis..." A ghost of pride flickered across her features. "I could have gone pro, you know? But I couldn''t find the will to continue. I dropped out of school, shut down completely." The aura of gloom around her seemed to intensify, making even the morning sunlight feel dim. "The psychologists, the social workers - they all tried. Eventually, even they gave up on me."


    "Then four months ago," her eyes sparked with the first real life Angelo had seen in them, "I saw the news. The Angel of Death had claimed another victim." Her hands trembled slightly as she pulled out her phone, pulling up a screenshot. "Kim Kenver," she turned the screen toward Angelo. "The man who murdered my parents."


    The image showed a balding man with round glasses, his face unremarkable except for the knowledge of his crimes.


    "Oh yeah, the fat bastard," Red''s bloodthirsty glee echoed in their shared mind. "That one was especially satisfying."


    Angelo''s eyes narrowed at the image. "I remember him. Offered him a chance at redemption. He didn''t even pause to consider it."


    "You see?" Neiva''s voice carried desperate hope. "You''re the only light I''ve found in all this darkness. Please, let me join you!"


    "Most guys would kill for this kind of attention," Red snickered internally.


    Blue''s measured tones cut through. "I don''t believe romance is her motivation, Red."


    "Sorry," Angelo''s voice was firm but not unkind. "I got my last partner killed. I won''t risk that happening again."


    "I don''t mind," Neiva''s response carried a chill that seemed to drop the temperature around them.


    "Besides," Angelo pressed, "you''re not even an Auron. How could you contribute?"


    The words struck like physical blows, but Neiva refused to go down. "You could train me! Help me finish my Auron training. Then I could help bring justice to others like me!"


    "I''m not a teacher."


    "Please! I''ll do anything! I''ll prove my worth!"


    "Anything?" Angelo snapped, frustration breaking through. "Then maybe you can find a lead on my parents'' case!"


    "Your parents'' case?"


    Angelo cursed internally, looking away - he hadn''t meant to reveal that.


    "No, really," determination blazed in Neiva''s eyes. "What happened? Let me help!"


    "Let her try," Blue''s calm voice cut through Angelo''s resistance. "If she fails, she''ll leave us alone. If she succeeds, we finally have a lead. There''s no downside."


    "Sending her on an impossible mission, huh?" Angelo thought back, then addressed Neiva. "Fine. One chance. But if you fail, I don''t want to hear about joining me again. Clear?"


    "And if I succeed, you''ll let me join?" Her eyes sparked with desperate hope.


    "If you succeed," Angelo emphasized. "Don''t get your hopes up."


    "Tell me everything you know," she pressed, satisfaction creeping into her voice. "I can''t investigate without details."


    Angelo''s expression darkened. "Almost eighteen years ago, in Ashford, my parents died in a lab accident - in their basement lab. According to recently discovered police files, it wasn''t an accident at all. No evidence pointed to any specific group. That''s all I know."


    "We should exchange contact information," she said, her earlier meekness giving way to barely concealed satisfaction. "How else will I report my findings?" The false innocence in her voice made it clear she''d been maneuvering toward this outcome, though her underlying desperation remained evident.


    They exchanged contact information, Neiva''s earlier gloom replaced by fierce determination. "I''ll find something, no matter what it takes!" She practically bounced in place. "Don''t forget our promise!" She called over her shoulder as she ran off, leaving Angelo to wave half-heartedly after her.


    "Well, you''ve at least brightened her day," Blue observed. "That counts for something."


    "Whatever," Angelo dismissed, settling onto the bench. "Doubt we''ll hear from her again. Might as well use this spot for meditation." His aura flickered to life, his oranging eyes closed as he reached for his evolved state. Pain prickled through his healing wounds, but he pushed through it. The orange glow intensified around him, casting strange shadows on the hospital grounds.


    "Yes... excellent! Soon these chains shall shatter and I will rain chaos upon this unsuspecting world! MUAHAHAHA!" Red''s theatrical villainy echoed through their shared mind.


    "I''m trying to concentrate here," Angelo''s mental voice carried exasperation. "Blue, he''s your problem once he recharges. Consider yourself promoted to babysitter."


    "I must protest this arbitrary assignment," Blue replied with dignified offense. "Why should I be responsible for his... recreational activities?"


    "Because I need to focus, and you''re the only one with nothing better to do." Angelo''s tone brooked no argument as he settled deeper into meditation, leaving his two counterparts to sort out their new dynamic.


    As hospital life continued around him, Angelo focused on mastering his evolved state, while somewhere in the city, a determined girl began her search for answers about a tragedy nearly two decades old.

 23. The ACE Test

    The harsh electronic shriek of Angelo''s alarm pierced the pre-dawn silence of his modest apartment, its insistent beeping echoing off bare walls. Through half-closed blinds, the first hints of morning painted thin stripes of pink and gold across his rumpled sheets. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest from yesterday''s evolved state training as he fumbled blindly for the source of the noise.


    "Ugh... everything hurts..." Angelo groaned into his pillow, his voice thick with exhaustion. "Just fifteen more minutes..." The words slurred together as consciousness began slipping away again, the weight of his healing injuries dragging him back toward blessed oblivion.


    A wisp of azure smoke curled up from Angelo''s prone form, coalescing into Blue''s familiar silhouette. The gray-tinted duplicate regarded his sleeping original with what might have been exasperation, if his usually stoic features could express such an emotion. His aura flickered to life, casting dancing shadows across the spartan room as he grasped the bed frame with deliberate precision.


    The world tilted sideways as Blue smoothly lifted one side of the bed. Angelo had just enough time for his eyes to snap wide before gravity claimed him, sending him crashing to the floor in a tangle of sheets and limbs. The impact sent jolts of fresh pain through his barely-healed wounds.


    "WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" Angelo''s roar of outrage was amplified by the small space, his orange aura flaring to life in response to his fury. In their shared consciousness, Red''s cackling laughter provided an inappropriately cheerful soundtrack to the scene.


    Blue''s aura dissipated as he straightened his posture, looking for all the world like a professor about to deliver a lecture. "Your repeated requests for ''fifteen more minutes'' have proven historically ineffective," he stated with maddening rationality. "Direct intervention produced immediate results. Additionally, we are not, as you seem to believe, your personal timekeeping service."


    Angelo untangled himself from the sheets, wincing as his muscles protested. "You two don''t even need sleep!" he shot back, gesturing accusingly. "The least you could do is help me maintain a proper schedule!"


    "I believe I just did," Blue replied with devastating calm, his measured tone carrying just a hint of satisfaction.


    "Oh man," Red''s mental voice dripped with unholy glee, "Our resident stick-in-the-mud is actually trolling! This is better than those hospital soap operas!"


    Blue''s expression remained carefully neutral. "Your ACE evaluation begins in less than two hours. The testing facility is on the opposite side of the city. Perhaps we should focus on preparation rather than your sleeping habits?"


    Angelo hauled himself to his feet, trying futilely to massage the deep ache from his shoulders. "Fine, fine, I''m up," he conceded with bitter resignation. "Red, since you''re enjoying this so much, you can handle breakfast while I shower. Let''s at least be efficient about this nightmare of a morning."


    "Do I look like your personal chef?" Red''s indignation echoed through their link.


    "Please?" Angelo''s voice carried equal parts exhaustion and desperation. "I really can''t afford to be late for this."


    Crimson smoke poured from Angelo''s body, taking shape in the small kitchenette. "Whatever," Red grumbled, though his materialized form practically vibrated with poorly concealed excitement. "But I''m picking the menu!"


    "Thanks," Angelo managed through gritted teeth as he limped toward the bathroom, leaving his duplicates to their respective tasks.


    The morning passed in a blur of hot water, hastily consumed breakfast, and roof-hopping across the awakening city. Before Angelo fully processed the transition, he found himself standing before an architectural marvel that seemed to defy gravity. The ACE facility rose like a chrome and glass sculpture against the morning sky, its sweeping lines and gleaming surfaces making the surrounding buildings look dull and antiquated by comparison. The stylized letters "ACE" crowned the structure, their metallic surface catching the sunlight like liquid silver.


    "Wow..." The word escaped all three aspects of his consciousness simultaneously, though each imbued it with different meaning - Angelo with determination, Red with anticipation of chaos, and Blue with analytical appreciation.


    "This is it," Angelo breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. Internally, his thoughts carried a fierce pride tinged with grief: "Watch me, Bill. I''ll show everyone exactly what you saw in me." For once, both Red and Blue remained respectfully silent, sharing in the weight of the moment.


    The reverent atmosphere shattered as his phone''s cheerful chime cut through the morning air. Angelo''s expression soured as he saw the caller ID. "Neiva..."


    "Angelo!" Her voice burst through the speaker with enthusiasm that bordered on manic. "I''m diving into the investigation today! I need more details!"


    "I told you everything I know," he replied, trying to keep the irritation from his voice.


    "But what about the lab itself?" She pressed on, undeterred. "Was it professional-grade equipment, or more... improvisational?"


    Memory rose unbidden - fractured images of the ruined laboratory where he''d spent countless childhood hours. Steel tables corroded by time, sophisticated equipment reduced to rust and rubble, walls that still held ghostly outlines where instruments had once hung.


    "Comparing it to Albert''s facility..." Angelo chose his words carefully. "It was definitely professional. High-end equipment, proper setup."


    "Albert? Who''s that?"


    "Never mind. Just - yes, it was professional."


    "Perfect! Thankies!" Her voice carried a sing-song quality that set his teeth on edge. The call ended with an electronic chirp.


    "You know," Red''s mental voice dripped with suggestion, "she''s kind of cute when she''s not drowning in depression. You two gloomy souls would make an adorably miserable couple."


    "Not now, Red," Angelo growled. "I''ve got bigger concerns than your matchmaking attempts."


    "Die a virgin then!" Red cackled. "More fun for me to watch anyway!"


    "If I may," Blue interjected with philosophical calm, "her improved demeanor is noteworthy. Your presence appears to have provided her with much-needed purpose. That alone is a positive outcome."


    "Whatever," Angelo muttered, checking the time. "It''s almost eight. Let''s get this over with." As he strode through the facility''s automated doors, Red''s smoky form was already darting off to explore restricted areas, leaving Angelo to deal with registration while steadfastly ignoring whatever trouble his more chaotic aspect might discover.


    The reception area gleamed with the same futuristic aesthetic as the exterior, all clean lines and subtle lighting. After confirming his appointment, Angelo accepted a flyer and settled into one of the ergonomic waiting chairs, trying to focus on the information rather than Red''s distant mental commentary about "boring" security systems and "hilariously obvious" surveillance blind spots. Some things, he decided, were better left unknown.


    <blockquote>


    Auron Capability Evaluation (ACE) Test


    <h2 style="text-align: center">Official Information Flyer</h2>


    <h3 style="text-align: center">Overview


    The ACE Test is a standardized evaluation designed to measure an Auron''s core capabilities and determine their ranking within the Auron Power System (APS). Through precise measurement of key metrics, we can accurately assess your current power level.


    <h3 style="text-align: center">Understanding Measurement Units


    <h2 style="text-align: center">Energy Unit (EU)</h2>


    The base unit of energy measurement in the Auron system. One EU is defined as the amount of energy required to lift a 1 kg object 1 meter off the ground using aura abilities.


    <h2 style="text-align: center">Aur (A)</h2>


    The standard unit for Power Level calculations:


    1 Aur (A) = 1,000 Energy Units (1K EU)


    <h3 style="text-align: center">Test Components


    <ol style="text-align: center">


    <li>Energy Control Capacity (ECC) Test


    <ul>


    <li style="text-align: center">Measures maximum energy you can control at a given moment</li>


    <li style="text-align: center">Utilizes Energy Quantification Device (EQD) for precise measurement</li>


    <li style="text-align: center">Results reported in EU (Energy Units)</li>


    </ul>


    </li>


    <li>Energy Draw Rate (EDR) Test


    <ul>


    <li>Measures energy draw rate per second</li>


    <li>Conducted over 60-second intervals</li>


    <li>Results reported in EU/s (Energy Units per second)</li>


    </ul>


    </li>


    </ol>


    <h3 style="text-align: center">Safety Measures


    <ul style="text-align: center">


    <li>All tests conducted in specially reinforced facilities</li>


    <li>Multiple EQDs available for high-power measurements</li>


    <li>Medical staff on standby during evaluation</li>


    <li>Testing can be halted immediately if needed</li>


    </ul>


    <h3 style="text-align: center">What to Expect


    <ul style="text-align: center">


    <li>Complete testing takes approximately 20 minutes</li>


    <li>Wear comfortable clothing suitable for energy manipulation</li>


    <li>Bring water and light snacks for recovery periods</li>


    <li>Plan rest time afterward as testing can be physically demanding</li>


    </ul>


    <h3 style="text-align: center">Results & Ranking


    Your Power Level will be calculated using the formula:This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    PL = min(EDR ¡Á 2s, ECC)


    Based on your Power Level,


    you will be assigned one of the following ranks:


    <ul style="text-align: center">


    <li>Novice Auron: PL < 10 A</li>


    <li>Adept Auron: 10 A - 100 A</li>


    <li>Elite Auron: 100A - 1000 A</li>


    <li>Veteran Auron: 1000 A - 10k A</li>


    <li>Arch Auron: 10k A - 100k A</li>


    <li>Master Auron: 100k A - 1m A</li>


    <li>Enlightened Auron: 1m A - 100m A</li>


    <li>Legendary Auron: > 100m A</li>


    </ul>


    <h3 style="text-align: center">Additional Information


    <ul style="text-align: center">


    <li style="text-align: center">Retesting available upon request</li>


    <li style="text-align: center">Mandatory retesting after significant power increases</li>


    <li style="text-align: center">All results strictly confidential</li>


    <li style="text-align: center">Special accommodations available if needed</li>


    </ul>


    To schedule your ACE Test or for additional questions, please contact the Auron Evaluation Department.


    Now available on the app!


    "Measuring potential, empowering progress"


    </blockquote>


    Angelo''s eyes glazed over as he attempted to process the dense wall of text before him. The flyer''s crisp pages crinkled in his tightening grip as equations and technical jargon swam before his vision like particularly aggressive fish.


    "Nope," he muttered, folding the flyer with perhaps more force than necessary. "Not dealing with this."


    "Wait!" Blue''s protest rang through their shared consciousness. "That information is crucial to understanding the evaluation process!"


    "Then by all means," Angelo drawled, stretching his arm out dramatically, the flyer dangling from his fingers like bait. "Be my guest."


    Azure smoke curled through the air, coalescing into Blue''s familiar form. He snatched the flyer with barely concealed eagerness, settling into the adjacent chair with the intensity of a scholar discovering ancient texts. "Your aversion to technical knowledge continues to astound me," he commented, already absorbed in the document''s contents.


    Angelo pulled out his phone, hoping to distract himself from Blue''s running commentary. But his duplicate''s enthusiastic murmurs of "Fascinating!" and "The implications!" kept dragging his attention back.


    "Angelo, this is remarkable!" Blue''s eyes practically sparkled behind his serious expression. "They''ve developed devices capable of quantifying energy manipulation! The EQD can measure both control capacity and draw rate, creating a comprehensive power level calculation through¡ª"


    "NERD!" Red''s gleeful accusation echoed through their link.


    "Fascinating," Angelo replied looking away with all the enthusiasm of someone discussing paint drying.


    "Indeed it is fascinating!" An unfamiliar voice cut through their exchange. A young man in a pristine lab coat approached, his carefully styled blonde hair and designer glasses screaming ''academic elite.'' His smile carried the particular brand of confidence that came from multiple advanced degrees. "Always wonderful to meet another appreciator of the sciences."


    His eyes darted between Angelo and Blue, a pleased expression crossing his features. "Ah, twins! Let me guess - the classic dichotomy? One blessed with brawn, the other with brains?"


    "Yep, you nailed it," Angelo deadpanned, suddenly finding the waiting room''s modernist art installation absolutely riveting.


    The scientist''s smile widened as he adjusted his glasses with practiced precision. "Steven Eagleprince, rising star in Auron physics. Currently conducting research at this cutting-edge facility." He paused expectantly.


    "Angelo," came the minimal response.


    Steven''s eyes narrowed briefly before widening in recognition. "Wait a moment... that interview yesterday... You''re him, aren''t you? The Angel of Death?"


    Angelo and Blue exchanged loaded glances, volumes of silent communication passing between them.


    "What if I am?" Angelo''s tone carried a careful edge.


    "Extraordinary!" Steven''s enthusiasm doubled. "The Angel of Death has an academically inclined twin! The implications for nature versus nurture studies alone..."


    "You''re too kind," Blue interjected smoothly. "I''m Blue, and I must admit, I''m fascinated by the sophisticated approach your facility takes to Auron evaluation."


    Steven''s expression lit up like a child on festival morning. "Oh, but ranking is merely a beneficial side effect of our true work! The real excitement lies in understanding the fundamental nature of Auron abilities."


    "Do tell," Blue leaned forward, genuine curiosity evident in his posture.


    "Consider the energy connections Aurons utilize," Steven began, his hands moving in elaborate gestures. "While superficially similar to wormholes¡ª"


    "In theory," Blue corrected automatically.


    "Precisely!" Steven beamed. "These connections facilitate pure energy transfer between points in space-time. Some theorize they function as simple conduits, but I postulate they''re more akin to quantum bridges, creating direct links between¡ª"


    Angelo''s groan of pure suffering harmonized perfectly with Red''s mental equivalent.


    "Fascinating!" Blue''s eyes shone with intellectual fervor. "Would different theoretical frameworks affect our understanding of how Aurons interface with these connections?"


    "Oh would you look at the time!" Angelo practically leaped from his chair, his sudden movement making both academics jump. "Got an evaluation to attend. Please, continue your discussion about... whatever this is. Without me. Far away from me." He backed away with the desperate energy of someone fleeing an incoming natural disaster.


    Angelo rounded the corner, trying his best to tune out the enthusiastic discussion still playing through their shared consciousness. Blue and Steven''s voices carried on about quantum mechanics and energy theory with unwavering enthusiasm, like a particularly academic radio station he couldn''t turn off.


    "I swear," Red''s mental voice dripped with suffering, "if I have to hear one more word about quantum whatever, I''m going to materialize just to bang my head against a wall."


    "You''d still hear it," Angelo thought back miserably as Steven launched into what promised to be a lengthy explanation of field harmonics. They both tried to focus on literally anything else, knowing that complete escape was impossible as long as Blue remained thoroughly engaged in his scientific discussion.


    <hr>


    The elevator ride to the top floor felt longer than it should have, each floor''s gentle chime doing nothing to settle Angelo''s growing nerves. When the doors finally opened, he was ushered into a vast chamber that made his footsteps echo ominously. The room was almost entirely empty save for what looked like an instrument of medieval torture - a sleek but menacing device bristling with tubes and sensors, its polished surface reflecting the harsh overhead lights.


    "You''re absolutely certain this is safe?" Angelo eyed the apparatus warily, memories of less pleasant laboratory experiences flickering through his mind.


    "Don''t be such a wimp!" Red''s enthusiasm cut through their shared consciousness, providing a stark contrast to the distant murmur of Blue''s ongoing scientific discussion with Steven. "This is gonna be awesome!"


    A technician in a pristine white coat stepped forward, her professional demeanor somehow making the device seem less threatening. "Completely safe," she assured him, her voice carrying the patience of someone used to nervous test-takers. "Let me walk you through the Energy Control Capacity test."


    She gestured to two circular openings in the device. "Place your hands here. You''ll gather energy as if preparing your strongest attack, but aimed away from the equipment." Her hands traced the path of the tubes. "The sensors will measure energy flow until you reach your maximum controllable threshold - like hitting your limit during weight training. The key is to approach that edge without crossing it."


    Angelo nodded, trying to process the technical details through Red''s running commentary about ''fancy science toys.''


    "For evolved Aurons," she continued, "you must maintain your evolved state, but without manifesting your specific element. Standard energy only." She studied his face. "Any questions?"


    "Just one - can we get started?" Angelo shifted his weight impatiently, the constant drain of his evolved state already beginning to tax him.


    The technician''s smile carried understanding as she directed him to marked positions on the floor. Despite its intimidating appearance, the device allowed surprisingly natural movement. Angelo''s eyes tracked upward to a massive circular opening in the ceiling - clearly designed for safely venting energy attacks into the sky.


    "Free light show for the whole city!" Red''s mental voice bubbled with anticipation.


    "Ready!" Angelo called out, watching the technician retreat to a reinforced observation booth. Her thumbs-up signal started the test.


    Orange light blazed around Angelo as his aura evolved, the familiar drain on his stamina kicking in immediately. He brought his palms together, focusing his energy into a sphere that grew steadily larger. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he pushed harder, the orb of power expanding until it dwarfed his body.


    "More..." he growled through clenched teeth, feeling the familiar precipice approaching - that razor''s edge between control and chaos. "Maximum!" The word burst from him as his arms trembled with effort.


    "Hold steady!" The technician''s voice crackled through speakers. "Three... two... one... release!"


    The energy bomb rocketed skyward, its light briefly turning night to day before disappearing into the atmosphere.


    "Excellent," the technician called out as the device whirred and repositioned, automatically adjusting Angelo''s stance. "Now for the Energy Draw Rate test - sixty seconds of continuous energy projection."


    "What''s happening?" Angelo fought down a spike of panic as the machine moved around him.


    "Just maintain a steady beam upward," she explained. "We''ll measure your energy output per second."


    "Fine," Angelo muttered, fatigue from his evolved state making him irritable. "Let''s finish this."


    Another signal, and Angelo projected a continuous stream of energy toward the opening. The minute seemed to stretch endlessly, though his stamina held steady against the familiar drain of evolution.


    "And... done!" The technician emerged from her booth, tablet in hand. Her eyes widened slightly as she studied the readout. "Your Energy Control Capacity is 100,000 EU - that''s 100 Aur. And your Energy Draw Rate..." She tapped the screen, double-checking the numbers. "12 Aur per second."


    She quickly performed the calculation, her smile growing. "That gives you a Power Level of 24 Aur. Well now, this is interesting... Congratulations!" Her professional mask cracked into genuine enthusiasm. "You''ve achieved Adept rank!"

 24. True Power

    Angelo stepped into the elevator, pressing the lobby button with perhaps more force than necessary as his mind reeled from the test results. The sleek metal box began its descent, each floor passing marked by a soft chime that seemed to mock his troubled thoughts. As he descended, he could sense Blue still engaged in animated conversation with the young scientist in the lobby below, their voices carrying through their shared consciousness like a distant radio broadcast echoing up the elevator shaft.


    "I must say," Blue''s cultured tones resonated with genuine enthusiasm, a rare crack in his usually stoic demeanor, "discussing these matters with you has been remarkably refreshing. Outside of the professor, I rarely encounter minds capable of engaging at this theoretical level." He adjusted his posture in the modernist chair, its ergonomic design a perfect match for the facility''s cutting-edge aesthetic.


    Steven Eagleprince leaned forward, his designer glasses catching the light as his eyes lit up with intellectual curiosity. "The professor you mention - who might that be?"


    "Ah," Blue''s lips curved into a slight smile, "I speak of Albert Goldstein." The words fell into the space between them with deliberate casualness, but their effect was immediate and electric.


    "Albert Gold-" Steven''s voice cracked with barely contained excitement, his professional composure crumbling like a sandcastle in high tide. "THE Albert Goldstein? Here in Novaria?" He gripped the arms of his chair, knuckles white with tension. "I''ve been trying to schedule a meeting with him for months! His facility might as well be a fort for all the success I''ve had getting in."


    Blue''s expression carried knowing amusement. "Yes, quite. I can imagine why." The subtle emphasis on ''imagine'' spoke volumes about Albert''s notorious selectivity with visitors.


    Steven leaned closer, his eagerness making him forget proper scientific decorum. "Please, you must tell me - what''s your connection to him? How did you manage to gain access to his inner circle?"


    Through their shared consciousness, Red''s sardonic voice cut through like a knife through butter. "Don''t do it, Blueberry. The nerd''s head might actually explode."


    "Your concern is noted and ignored," Blue responded internally with clinical precision before addressing Steven. "What I''m about to tell you may seem... difficult to accept. First, I should clarify that Angelo and I are not, in fact, twins."


    "But..." Steven''s brow furrowed in confusion, the perfectly maintained arch of his eyebrows betraying his puzzlement. "The resemblance is uncanny. You''re practically identical."


    "Indeed," Blue nodded, his tone taking on the measured pace of a lecturer approaching a complex topic. "That''s because, in a very real sense, we are the same person. Or rather, we emerged from the same person. Imagine, if you will, the energy composing your physical form split into three distinct yet interconnected entities..."


    The light streaming through the facility''s vast windows seemed to pause as Steven processed this information. Then, professional courtesy winning out, he let out a polite laugh that didn''t quite reach his eyes. "Ah, I see! Quite the jest. Your wit matches your intellectual prowess!"


    Blue''s expression remained unchanged. "I assure you, this is no joke. We three share sensory input, consciousness, even memory. For instance, I can tell you with absolute certainty that Angelo has just completed his ACE evaluation. An Adept ranking, specifically - 100 Aur Energy Control Capacity and 12 Aur Energy Draw Rate." He gestured toward the elevator. "In fact, he''ll be joining us momentarily."


    As if on cue, the elevator doors slid open with a soft pneumatic hiss, revealing Angelo. The timing was so perfect it made Steven''s scientific mind rebel against the implications.


    "I see you''ve been sharing our little secret," Angelo commented dryly as he approached, his footsteps echoing off the polished floor.


    "You did mention it was hardly a secret," Blue replied with philosophical calm. "Besides, Steven''s intellectual curiosity deserves satisfaction."


    Steven''s composure cracked completely, his scientific skepticism warring with the evidence before his eyes. "This... this is impossible. You expect me to believe..." He trailed off, his worldview visibly reshaping itself around this new reality.


    "A demonstration, perhaps?" Blue suggested, his tone carrying the patient enthusiasm of a professor about to conduct an experiment. "Angelo, if you would be so kind as to turn around? Our young friend can test our shared perception."


    Angelo sighed with the weariness of someone who had performed this party trick far too often. "Really, Blue?" But he complied, turning his back to Steven while maintaining their mental link.


    "Now then," Blue addressed Steven with scholarly precision, "if you would hold up any number of fingers, Angelo will tell you the exact count without seeing them. Feel free to change the number as often as you like."


    Steven''s scientific skepticism warred briefly with his curiosity before he raised a trembling hand. His eyes darted between Angelo''s turned back and Blue''s serene expression as he began the test.


    "Two," Angelo called out immediately.


    Steven changed his count, mouth falling slightly open as Angelo responded instantly: "Three."


    "One... five... none..." Each correct answer came without hesitation, matching Steven''s increasingly frantic changes. The young scientist''s breath caught in his throat as the impossible accuracy of their shared perception became undeniable.


    Angelo turned back, irritation evident in his posture. "This is ridiculous. Why don''t we just take him to Albert and let him explain the whole thing? Save us all some time."


    The suggestion hit Steven like a physical force, his scientific excitement briefly overwhelming his skepticism. "You mean... you''d actually introduce me to Albert Goldstein?"


    "Indeed," Blue nodded, satisfaction evident in his tone. "The professor has been studying our unique condition for years. His ''Components of Pure Energy Theory'' provides a fascinating framework for understanding our situation." He rose from his chair with fluid grace. "Shall we?"


    "Wait," Steven''s eyes darted between them. "You mentioned three entities. Where''s the third?"


    Angelo''s expression turned guilty. "Red is... conducting his own exploration of the facility."


    Internally, he reached out to their missing third. "Red, wrap it up. We''re heading to Albert''s."


    "Not a chance!" Red''s mental voice carried theatrical horror. "I''d rather gargle acid than listen to more quantum theory babble!"


    "I''ll buy pizza..." Angelo offered, knowing his counterpart''s weaknesses.


    A moment of internal silence, then: "...fine. But I want extra cheese!"


    <hr>


    The morning sun had risen higher as they stepped outside, the ACE facility''s chrome and glass exterior creating rainbow refractions in the air around them. Steven reached for his phone, already pulling up a ride-sharing app. "Shall I call us transportation?"


    The look of abject horror on Angelo''s face made him pause mid-motion. "An Auron? Taking a cab?" Angelo''s orange aura flared to life, tendrils of forged energy coiling around him like living molten metal. "We travel in style. You''re welcome to join us, or take your chances with traffic."


    Blue''s aura ignited next to them, his more controlled energy patterns taking on an almost crystalline quality. "I would be honored to ensure your safe passage, Steven. The experience is quite exhilarating, I assure you."


    Steven swallowed hard, his adam''s apple bobbing nervously as he looked between them. "You... you''re certain this is safe?"


    "Absolutely," Blue''s calm assurance carried real warmth. "My forged energy provides complete security. Though I should warn you - the ride can be somewhat... dynamic."


    Before Steven could properly process his decision, Blue''s energy tendrils had already wrapped around him in a secure cocoon. The young scientist''s startled yelp echoed off nearby buildings as they took to the air, leaving the ground and conventional physics far behind.


    The city blurred beneath them as they bounded from rooftop to rooftop, Steven''s initial terror giving way to breathless wonder. The morning air rushed past them, carrying the mingled scents of the awakening city - fresh bread from corner bakeries, the sharp tang of industrial districts, the green freshness of scattered parks. When they finally touched down before Albert''s facility, Steven''s perfectly styled hair was in complete disarray, but his eyes shone with the joy of discovery.


    The pristine halls of Albert''s facility gave way to lush greenery as Angelo and his companions were escorted through a series of high-security doors. The laboratory garden was a stunning fusion of nature and technology - delicate orchids grew alongside humming analysis equipment, while climbing vines wrapped around polished steel supports. The air carried a unique blend of antiseptic cleanliness and organic life.


    Albert stood at a pristine workstation, his weathered face a mask of concentration as he measured precise amounts of iridescent chemicals. His white hair caught the filtered sunlight streaming through the transparent ceiling panels, creating a halo effect that seemed oddly appropriate given his status in the scientific community.


    "Albert!" Angelo''s casual greeting shattered the laboratory''s reverent atmosphere. The old scientist started, nearly dropping his carefully measured solutions before recognition softened his features into genuine warmth.


    "My boy!" Relief colored Albert''s voice as he set down his work with trembling hands. "I''ve been sick with worry since I heard the news!"


    Angelo''s eyebrow arched skeptically, his posture radiating accusation. "Worried enough to send a text? Make a call? Maybe stop by the hospital?"


    A flash of guilt crossed Albert''s face as he suddenly found his equipment fascinating. "I... that is... I thought you might need space to process recent events." The words rang hollow even to his own ears.


    "Right," Angelo''s tone could have frozen nitrogen. "Nothing to do with being lost in research again?"


    The silence stretched like taffy before Albert''s shoulders slumped in defeat. "Guilty as charged," he admitted with a rueful smile. "Though I did call the hospital! Once I knew you were stable, I thought... well..." He gestured vaguely, his usual eloquence deserting him.


    Angelo''s expression softened slightly at the genuine remorse in the professor''s voice. Blue stepped forward smoothly, his cultured tones dispelling the awkward moment. "Always a pleasure, Professor. I trust your research progresses well?"


    Before Albert could respond, Steven practically vibrated with barely contained excitement. "Professor Goldstein! I''m Steven Eagleprince - your paper on quantum harmonics in Auron energy fields changed my entire understanding of theoretical physics!"


    Angelo recognized the telltale signs of an impending scientific discussion. "And that''s my cue," he announced, already backing toward the door. "Red and I will be on the training grounds if anyone needs us."


    "Now you''re speaking my language!" Red chimed in.


    The training ground stretched before them like an arena, its reinforced walls bearing the scars of countless previous battles. Red emerged from Angelo''s body in a swirl of crimson smoke, materializing with his back turned in an exaggerated display of theatricality.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    "Angie, my eternal nemesis..." Red''s voice dripped with mock menace as he slowly rose from his crouch, turning to face Angelo with glowing crimson eyes. His aura erupted around him like a bloody sunrise. "At last, we meet again!"


    Angelo stared at his duplicate with withering disdain. "What''s gotten into you lately? Trying to land a role in the Novarian Theater?"


    Red dismissed the jab with a dramatic wave. "Today, I shall finally have my REVENGE!" His evolution exploded outward in a devastating display, crimson energy particles showering the arena as a shockwave of pure power rippled through the air. The very ground seemed to tremble beneath the force of his transformation.


    Angelo''s own aura answered the challenge, orange light blazing to life around him as he forced his evolution. The competing energies made the air itself feel thick and heavy, like trying to breathe underwater. Red dropped into a predatory crouch, forged energy crystallizing around his arms to form wickedly sharp claws that gleamed in the morning light. He launched forward with explosive force, but Angelo was ready.


    The Aura Area expanded outward from Angelo''s body like a sphere of pure awareness. Through this enhanced perception, he sensed Red''s attack coming several meters out - each shift in air pressure, every minute change in energy patterns painted a perfect picture of the incoming threat. But Red''s movements defied conventional physics, his claws raking through the air in impossible patterns that somehow felt both random and perfectly calculated.


    Angelo manifested a shield of forged energy just in time to block Red''s latest slash, the impact sending orange sparks cascading across the training ground. "Close," Red''s grin turned feral, "but no cigar!" Eight massive tendrils of crimson forged energy erupted from his body, each one moving with terrifying independence as they whipped toward Angelo from every conceivable angle.


    "How in hell is he controlling that many?!" Panic edged into Angelo''s thoughts as he desperately tried to track the multiple threats.


    Red''s mental voice cut through their shared consciousness with sadistic glee: "Because I''m better than you, Angie!"


    "Stop listening to my thoughts, you cheating bastard!" Angelo''s fury manifested in waves of orange energy that made the reinforced walls groan.


    With a roar that seemed to shake the foundations of Albert''s facility, Angelo summoned his evolved signature weapons. Forged energy coalesced into the flowing robes of the Angel of Death, while the massive scythe materialized in his grip, its blade drinking in the morning light. He settled into his iconic pose, weapon resting casually on his shoulder as he glared at his duplicate with menacing intent.


    "Oh please," Red''s theatrical voice dripped sarcasm as he clutched his chest. "Let me guess - ''Change your heart and find redemption, or strike at me and get fucked?'' HAHAHA!" His mocking imitation of Angelo''s serious tone made blood vessels throb in the original''s forehead.


    Angelo''s embarrassed rage transformed his expression into something both twisted and deadly. Without a word, he extended his arm and released the scythe. The weapon hung suspended in the air for a heartbeat before beginning to spin. Faster and faster it rotated until it became a disc of pure cutting force, its blade howling through the air as Angelo sent it screaming toward Red like a giant circular saw.


    "Oh shit!" Red''s eyes widened as the improvised buzzsaw of death closed the distance. He manifested a crimson shield of forged energy, but the spinning scythe tore through it like tissue paper. Though he managed to mostly dodge, the blade caught his right arm, shredding it into particles of crimson energy that dissipated like smoke in a strong wind.


    "Got you now!" Angelo''s triumphant roar echoed off the training ground walls.


    Red''s face twisted from rage to something far more sinister as forged energy began collecting around the glowing wound. The crimson light pulsed and solidified, forming a completely new limb that glowed with internal power. His predatory grin promised violence as both duplicates launched themselves forward, their collision sending shockwaves of competing orange and crimson energy rolling across the reinforced field.


    The true battle was only beginning.


    <hr>


    While combat raged on the training grounds, a very different but equally intense exchange was taking place in Albert''s laboratory garden. The three intellectuals sat surrounded by humming equipment and blooming orchids, their discussion having reached a fever pitch following Albert''s explanation of his latest theory.


    "Absolutely astonishing!" Steven''s eyes gleamed with academic fervor behind his designer glasses, nearly bouncing in his ergonomic chair. "The theoretical implications alone are revolutionary!" His hands moved in excited gestures as he processed the information. "And to think that Angelo operates at 50% potency - the applications for understanding power distribution in Aurons could reshape our entire field!"


    "Actually," Blue interjected with practiced precision, "recent calculations suggest a mere 25% efficiency rate." His tone carried the weight of academic certainty. "Consider: if Angelo''s physical capabilities are reduced by 50%, and the amplification factor from his aura is similarly halved, the compound effect results in approximately 25% operational capacity compared to a standard Auron."


    Albert and Steven exchanged glances heavy with scientific skepticism. Steven''s "May I?" followed by Albert''s "By all means" caused Blue''s face to twitch almost imperceptibly - a crack in his usually perfect composure.


    Steven leaned forward with the enthusiasm of someone about to share a profound secret. "Let me explain how Auron energy really works," he began, his eyes bright with academic passion. "Imagine you''re trying to fill water balloons for a fight - this analogy will help explain both Energy Draw Rate, EDR, and Energy Control Capacity, ECC."


    He gestured to the holographic display, which shifted to show his improvised analogy. "ECC - is like the size of your water balloon. It determines the maximum amount of energy you can hold at once. While EDR - is like the speed of your faucet, how quickly you can fill that balloon."


    "Now here''s the critical part that most people misunderstand," Steven continued, warming to his subject. "Let''s say we have two people in our water balloon fight. Person A has a huge water balloon - that''s high ECC - but a tiny trickle of a faucet - that''s low EDR. Person B has a smaller balloon but a powerful faucet that fills it almost instantly."


    Blue watched intently as Steven manipulated the hologram to demonstrate. "In a fight, Person B will dominate. Why? Because they can quickly fill and throw multiple balloons while Person A is still trying to fill their first big balloon. In Auron terms, high EDR means you can quickly gather and use energy, which is far more valuable in combat than simply having a high capacity."


    "Here lies your misconception," Steven continued, his eyes gleaming with academic passion. Even Angelo and Red paused their fight to listen in, "Every Auron automatically allocates a portion of their Energy Draw Rate to enhance their natural abilities. Think of it like a power grid distributing electricity to different systems in a city. A percentage of your total EDR is constantly being channeled into three key attributes: offensive power, defensive capability, and movement speed."


    He manipulated the holographic display to show a diagram of energy flow. "The fascinating part is that this distribution isn''t equal. Some Aurons naturally channel more energy into speed, while others might have a higher allocation to defense. It''s part of what makes each Auron unique."


    "More experienced Aurons," Steven added, his voice dropping as if sharing a trade secret, "can actually control this distribution. They can consciously reduce the percentage of EDR allocated to their enhancements. It''s a risky technique - like diverting power from your shield generators to your weapons in a sci-fi spacecraft. You can charge attacks faster by reducing your defensive enhancement, but it leaves you vulnerable."


    Blue''s eyes widened with understanding. "So if an Auron has 10 EDR, and they normally allocate 30% to enhancements, they''re working with 7 units for active abilities. But they could potentially lower that enhancement allocation to 20%, giving them 8 units for attacks at the cost of reduced natural enhancement?"


    "Precisely," Steven nodded approvingly. "Though few Aurons ever discover this level of energy manipulation. Most operate on instinct, letting their bodies maintain a fixed enhancement distribution. But those who master this technique gain a significant tactical advantage, able to shift their power allocation based on the situation."


    Blue''s face showed dawning comprehension. "So when Angelo''s test showed 12 Aur per second EDR..."


    "Exactly," Steven nodded. "And since his energy is split, that 12 Aur actually manifests as 6 Aur of usable power. It''s like having a water faucet where half the water evaporates before it can fill the balloon."


    Red''s mental voice cut through their shared consciousness like sandpaper on silk, dripping with smug satisfaction. "Well, well, well... looks like our resident genius isn''t quite as brilliant as he thought. How''s it feel to be schooled, Professor Blue?"


    Blue''s teeth ground together audibly, his pride visibly wounded. "Shut. Up." The words escaped through clenched teeth as the laboratory''s ambient sounds seemed to mock his discomfort. The usual steady beeping of monitoring equipment felt like it was counting off the seconds of his humiliation.


    Relief washed over Angelo like a cool breeze, the weight of perceived weakness lifting from his shoulders. Understanding that his power limitations weren''t as severe as Blue had feared ignited a spark of renewed determination in his chest.


    "If EDR is the key," he began, excitement coloring his thoughts, "Blue, ask them how to increase EDR , then maybe we should focus our training on¡ª" His strategic planning cut off abruptly as Red''s crimson form blurred toward him, evolved aura blazing with manic intensity. "Red, wait! STOP¡ª!"


    In the laboratory, Blue pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ignore the chaotic feedback bleeding through their shared consciousness. He turned to his colleagues, scholarly curiosity overriding his concern for Angelo''s predicament.


    "Might I inquire about EDR enhancement?" Blue''s measured tone carried genuine eagerness beneath its usual calm. "What would a focused training regimen entail?"


    Steven''s eyes lit up with academic fervor, practically bouncing on his heels. "Brilliant question! Think of it like progressive overload in weight training," he explained, gesturing enthusiastically. "EDR development requires pushing just beyond your current limits in controlled bursts - like sets in the gym. Each day, you force yourself to draw energy slightly faster than your comfortable maximum. The energy connections adapt, just like muscle fibers!"


    "The same principle applies to ECC," he continued, fully in his element. "You gather energy until you hit your capacity, then push to hold just a bit more. Maintain that edge of discomfort as long as possible. Consistent daily practice yields steady improvements in both metrics."


    Blue''s eyes widened with fascination. "The implications of energy connections responding like biological tissue..."


    Their theoretical discussion faded into the background as chaos erupted on the training ground. Red had undergone a grotesque transformation - every severed limb replaced by constructs of pulsing crimson forged energy. His legs had become wolf-like appendages of crystallized power, while one arm ended in wickedly sharp energy talons. The other had morphed into a whirring buzzsaw of pure destructive force.


    High-pitched, maniacal laughter echoed off the reinforced walls as Red crouched like a predator about to pounce. His evolved aura cast everything in a blood-red glow, making the scene look like something from a nightmare.


    "Look at yourself!" Angelo shouted, barely evading another frenzied assault. "You''re completely out of control!"


    Red''s only response was more deranged laughter as he unleashed a barrage of attacks that seemed to defy both physics and sanity. Each strike carried enough force to leave gouges in the reinforced ground, his movements becoming increasingly erratic and unpredictable.


    Angelo''s expression hardened as he realized this had gone too far. "Time to end this madness!" Forged energy coalesced around his arm, forming a gauntlet that hummed with barely contained power. As Red launched himself forward in another berserk charge, Angelo saw his opening.


    With precise timing born from countless battles, Angelo shifted just enough to let Red''s attack whistle past. In the same fluid motion, he drove his reinforced fist deep into Red''s midsection. The impact sent shockwaves across the training ground as Red''s physical form exploded into a cloud of crimson particles that streaked back into Angelo''s body.


    As his aura faded, Angelo felt Red''s essence settle within him, radiating something that felt suspiciously like smug satisfaction. The chaos of their battle gave way to quiet determination as Angelo''s mind raced with possibilities for their new training regime. The knowledge gained today would change everything - they just had to survive Red''s enthusiasm long enough to implement it.


    <hr>


    The late afternoon sun painted long shadows through Albert''s laboratory windows as the group prepared to depart. The day''s revelations hung in the air like a tangible presence, each person touched by new understanding and possibility. Albert''s weathered face carried an unusual intensity as he turned to address Angelo and Blue one final time.


    "My boys," the old scientist''s voice carried a weight that made both duplicates pause. "If I might make one last request..." His fingers absently traced the edge of a nearby workstation, betraying an uncharacteristic nervousness.


    Angelo and Blue exchanged glances, their shared consciousness rippling with curiosity. "What is it, Albert?" Angelo asked, noting how the professor''s usual casual demeanor had shifted to something more formal.


    "The ''Components of Pure Energy Theory'' has been my life''s work for longer than I care to admit," Albert began, drawing himself up to his full height. His eyes blazed with scholarly determination - a look that somehow made Angelo feel like a child again, despite his recent evolution. "I believe it''s finally ready for publication. With your blessing, of course."


    "Oh!" Angelo shifted his weight, caught off guard by the request. His voice carried a hint of uncertainty as he considered potential ramifications he might be missing. "Yeah, sure... I don''t mind..."


    "Splendid!" Albert''s enthusiasm burst forth like sunshine through clouds. "You''ll be credited as a contributor, naturally. Your unique condition made this breakthrough possible."


    Blue seemed to hesitate before speaking, his usual confidence tempered by politeness. "If I might be so bold..." he began, choosing his words carefully. "Given our shared contribution to your research, perhaps Red and I could also be acknowledged?"


    Through their mental link, Red''s dismissive voice cut through: "I literally don''t care." But Blue maintained his composure, pointedly ignoring their more chaotic third''s input.


    Albert''s face softened into genuine warmth, crow''s feet crinkling at the corners of his eyes. "My dear boy, of course you''ll be included! All three of you contributed equally to this discovery." Albert''s weathered hand patted Blue''s shoulder affectionately. "Forgive an old man''s oversight - I should have made that clear from the start."


    The rare smile that crossed Blue''s usually stoic features made him look startlingly human.


    Steven, who had been practically vibrating with contained excitement, finally burst forth: "Professor, please consider me at your disposal! My expertise in current energy theory could provide valuable insight as you prepare for publication!"


    "I shall certainly keep that in mind," Albert replied diplomatically, though his eyes sparked with interest at the young scientist''s enthusiasm.


    As they exchanged final farewells, each carried away something beyond mere theoretical knowledge. They parted ways beneath the setting sun, each carrying new goals that would shape not just their futures, but potentially the entire field of Auron research. The day''s revelations would echo far beyond Albert''s laboratory walls, though none of them could yet guess just how far those ripples would spread.

 25. Complications

    Sunlight streamed through the gaps in Angelo''s apartment blinds, painting thin stripes of golden light across his rumpled sheets. His muscles screamed in protest as consciousness dragged him from sleep, every movement a sharp reminder of yesterday''s sparring match with Red.


    "Everything hurts... again," Angelo groaned into his pillow, forcing himself to sit up despite his body''s vehement objections. His newly issued uniform hung on the closet door, still carrying the crisp scent of fresh fabric - a stark contrast to his previous one that had ended up shredded and blood-soaked.


    Blue''s measured voice echoed through their shared consciousness, carrying the weight of gentle reproach. "Perhaps engaging in combat exercises with Red was ill-advised, given your injuries have barely begun to heal." The words hung in their mental space like a professor''s disappointed sigh.


    "Funny how you weren''t protesting when you had the chance," Angelo shot back, fighting down a wince as he adjusted his collar. The fabric scratched against the barely-healed wound beneath.


    "I was occupied with matters of far greater intellectual significance than your physical altercations or resulting injuries," Blue replied with clinical detachment that somehow managed to sound both precise and dismissive.


    Angelo let the comment slide, his mind drifting through the whirlwind of recent events. In just one week, his world had transformed completely - gaining and losing a partner, battling terrorists, confronting a serial killer, achieving evolution. The invitation to live with Bill''s mother still weighed heavily on his thoughts, each memory tinged with bittersweet complexity. It felt like a fever dream, yet the aches in his body confirmed its reality.


    The morning routine passed in a blur of muscle memory, and soon Angelo found himself soaring between Novaria''s towers. His evolved forged energy tendrils gleamed orange in the morning light as they latched onto passing buildings, each leap carrying him closer to the station. Other Aurons traversed the city similarly, the sight of their varied auras painted the cityscape like an artist''s palette.


    Finally, his boots touched down before the precinct''s imposing facade. The building''s architecture spoke of authority and permanence, its stone walls weathered by years of service. Angelo''s gaze lingered on the entrance, memories of that stormy night flooding back - Vincent Morrow, the rogue water Auron, whose death may have set everything in motion. Or perhaps fate would have found another catalyst; there was no way to know.


    The moment Angelo stepped inside, conversation died like a candle in vacuum. The usual bustle of police work ground to a halt as every eye turned toward him. The weight of their stares pressed down like a physical force, making even the infamous Angel of Death shift uncomfortably. The air grew thick with tension, broken only by the soft whir of ceiling fans and distant ringing phones.


    Near the center of the room, a cluster of officers had gathered around someone like moths to a flame. But even their attention diverted, heads turning to track Angelo''s entrance with a mix of wariness and curiosity. A deep voice cut through the silence, filled with casual authority.


    "What''s the holdup? Move aside." The crowd parted, revealing a figure that seemed more suited to a rock concert than a police station. He wore a leather jacket adorned with gleaming metal spikes, a skull with yellow eyes emblazoned across his black undershirt. His torn jeans and spiked boots completed the rebellious image, while his dramatic haircut - long enough to cover one eye - added a final theatrical touch. Every detail of his appearance seemed calculated to provoke, from the perfectly distressed leather to the precise angle of his hair.


    "And you might be?" The newcomer''s voice carried the easy confidence of someone used to commanding attention. His posture radiated casual superiority as he looked down at Angelo - both literally and figuratively.


    Red''s voice crackled through their shared consciousness like static electricity. "This wannabe rock star is getting on my last nerve. Show him what''s what, Angelo!"


    Blue''s response manifested as a soft mental snort, his silence speaking volumes about his opinion of the situation.


    Angelo''s eyes shifted to burning orange as he sized up the stranger, his energy vision revealing impressive power flowing beneath the theatrical exterior. Several nearby officers flinched at the transformation, but the newcomer held his ground, meeting Angelo''s gaze with unwavering confidence. The air between them seemed to crackle with unspoken challenge.


    "I''m Angelo," he replied, his voice carrying the chill of a morgue. "Though some know me as the Angel of Death. And you would be...?"


    "Joe," the taller man drawled, his stance radiating practiced nonchalance. "Rock star by day, Evolved Auron by night. Or something like that." His lips curved into a smirk that suggested he was used to recognition following his introduction.


    Red''s derisive laughter echoed through their link. "Famous? Never heard of this poser!"


    "As if you follow current cultural trends, Red," Blue interjected with philosophical disdain.


    "Who asked you, blueberry?!" Red''s indignation flared hot enough to make Angelo''s temples throb. "Whose side are you on?"


    "I maintain no allegiance beyond objective truth," Blue replied with desert-dry precision.


    "Cat got your tongue?" Joe''s voice carried a hint of triumph, mistaking Angelo''s internal dialogue for hesitation.


    "Will you two shut up?" Angelo thought furiously at his counterparts. "Your bickering is making me look worse!" Aloud, he kept his tone carefully measured: "No, I was simply trying to recall if I''d heard of you. Strange... nothing comes to mind."


    A muscle twitched near Joe''s eye, the first crack in his cool facade. The tension in the room shifted as officers watched the verbal sparring match between the infamous Angel of Death and their apparent celebrity guest. The stalemate might have continued if Red hadn''t materialized behind Joe, mischief radiating from every particle of his being.


    "Red! Stand down - I know that''s you!" Chief Ramirez''s commanding voice boomed from above. All heads turned to see him standing on the upper level, arms crossed and expression sharp enough to cut glass. Joe spun in surprise, finding himself face-to-face with another Angelo who had frozen mid-motion, clearly caught in the act of something dubious.


    Angelo met the chief''s stern gaze as his eyes faded back to brown. "The three of you, wait right there," Ramirez ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.


    As Chief Ramirez descended the metal stairs, his footsteps echoing through the suddenly emptying space, Joe''s eyes fixed on Red with a mixture of disbelief and professional curiosity. The morning light streaming through the windows caught the metallic spikes on his jacket, sending tiny reflections dancing across the walls.


    "What exactly am I looking at here?" Joe gestured toward Red, his carefully maintained rock star indifference cracking slightly.


    "None of your business, rock boy!" Red shot back with characteristic aggression, causing Joe to blink rapidly as if trying to reset his vision. For once, Angelo felt a surge of satisfaction at Red''s attempted disruption - seeing the self-assured musician''s composure slip brought him an unexpected pleasure.


    Chief Ramirez approached their small group, his weathered face carefully neutral. "Angelo... it''s good to have you back," he said, his gruff voice carrying the formal politeness of someone addressing a necessary but troublesome asset.


    "Liar," Red''s accusation echoed through their shared consciousness, picking up on the underlying tension between Angelo and his superior.


    The chief gestured toward their leather-clad companion. "This is Joe Sturm, one of the Evolved Aurons assigned here in response to Novaria''s elevated threat level." The fluorescent lights overhead made Joe''s carefully styled hair gleam like polished obsidian.


    "He doesn''t look anything like an officer!" Red burst out indignantly, his words slightly muffled as Angelo caught him in a swift headlock. "Look at him - he belongs at a concert, not a police station!"


    Joe''s eyebrow arched elegantly at the sight of Angelo apparently wrestling with himself.


    "Please, ignore him and continue, Chief," Angelo managed, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity while restraining his more volatile aspect.


    To his surprise, Chief Ramirez seemed almost amused by the display. "Actually, Red makes a valid observation," he said, his tone shifting to something more formal. "Joe isn''t a traditional officer. Evolved Aurons - or Advanced Aurons, as they''re also known - can enter into contracts with the government through the Triple A - the Advanced Aurons Association."


    The chief began pacing slightly, his polished shoes clicking against the floor. "The arrangement is quite comprehensive. Monthly salaries, benefits packages, vacation deals - but in exchange, they''re on call when the Association needs them. Now that you''ve evolved, Angelo, it''s an option worth considering."


    Joe''s eyes narrowed as he reassessed Angelo. "Wait - this guy''s actually evolved?" Disbelief colored his voice as he gestured dismissively. "I thought he was just some weird anomaly with a split personality disorder."


    "Why you-!" Red renewed his struggle against Angelo''s grip, his fury practically radiating heat.


    "He was talking about me, not you!" Angelo hissed, trying to maintain control of the situation.


    "Actually, I meant both of you freaks," Joe replied with casual disdain, examining his spiked rings as if bored by the whole exchange.


    Red''s fury exploded at the insult, his violent thrashing nearly breaking Angelo''s hold. "LET ME AT HIM!" he snarled, his rage making their shared form vibrate with barely contained violence. "I''LL SHOW THIS POMPOUS PRETTY BOY WHAT A FREAK CAN DO!"


    "ENOUGH!" The chief''s voice thundered through the station, making both Angelo and Red snap to attention like cadets at inspection. "Yes, Angelo recently evolved, and you''d do well not to underestimate him. He''s proven his capabilities repeatedly - sometimes to my considerable dismay." The last words carried a hint of grudging respect.


    "Chief..." Angelo murmured, caught off guard by the unexpected praise.


    "Whatever," Joe waved a hand dismissively, his multiple rings catching the light. "You wanted to discuss my arrangement?"


    "Indeed. Let''s continue this in my office." The chief''s expression grew serious as he turned back to Angelo. "For now, resume your regular duties. But understand this," his voice took on an ominous edge that made the air feel heavy, "Evolution changes things. When an Evolved Auron is involved in a fatal confrontation, it triggers an investigative committee. There can be serious consequences. Consider yourself warned."


    As the chief and Joe ascended the stairs toward his office, their footsteps fading into the general buzz of the station, Angelo felt something cold settle in his chest. "Tch," escaped through his clenched teeth.


    "Is this truly such a significant concern?" Blue''s analytical voice cut through their shared consciousness. "Do you find yourself so driven to deal death?"


    Angelo''s internal response crackled with frustration. "I''m not like Red - I don''t kill for pleasure! My actions serve a purpose. Those beyond redemption will only return to their crimes once released. If I spare them, innocent people die later. In the grand scheme, there''s blood on my hands either way - I''d rather it be the criminal''s blood than that of future victims''."


    "Simple solution - just fight without evolving," Red suggested, his bloodthirsty eagerness palpable in their shared mind.


    "I suspect mere possession of evolved abilities is sufficient to trigger committee oversight," Blue countered with philosophical precision.


    Angelo moved through his day mechanically, but the weight of this new reality pressed down on him like a physical force. The mundane tasks of police work - filling out reports, reviewing case files, conducting routine patrols - all seemed to blur together as his mind grappled with the implications of these new restrictions on his evolved powers. The familiar halls of the station felt somehow different now, as if the very air had changed with his understanding of his new limitations.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    <hr>


    Evening painted Novaria''s skyline in deep purples and oranges as Angelo prepared to leave the station. The day had passed without a single criminal incident - a fact that left him with an uneasy feeling about his future as an evolved Auron. Just as his aura began to flicker to life around him, his phone''s sharp ring cut through the quiet. The name on the screen made him sigh.


    "Her again? What is it this time..." he muttered, thumb hovering over the answer button.


    "Um... Hello, Angelo? You there?" Neiva''s voice carried a nervous energy that immediately set him on edge.


    "Yeah, what now?" He couldn''t keep the exasperation from his voice.


    "I, uh... I need your help." Her words came out in a rush, pitched higher than normal with anxiety.


    "Why, what did you do?" Suspicion colored his tone as he imagined what trouble his self-appointed investigator might have found.


    "It''s a long story..."


    <hr>


    [Yesterday Morning]


    Sunlight streamed through Neiva''s apartment window, catching dust motes that danced above her cluttered desk. "Perfect! Thankies!" she chirped into the phone before hanging up, determination blazing in her emerald eyes. Her fingers flew across her laptop''s keyboard, the gentle tapping mixing with the distant sounds of city life floating up from the street below.


    "Okay Neiva, think this through," she coached herself, pulling her brilliant red hair back into a messy bun as she dove into her research. Multiple browser tabs opened in rapid succession as she pieced together information about Ashford.


    "Small town... near Ashen Forest..." she murmured, clicking through satellite images. "The mountainous terrain forces you to circle around to reach it. That''s not particularly helpful." Maps and local history articles covered her screen as she tried to understand the scope of Angelo''s hometown.


    Her brow furrowed in concentration, connecting dots. "A simple town like this... a sophisticated laboratory seems out of place, especially hidden in a basement." She tapped her pen against her desk rhythmically, mind racing through possibilities.


    Suddenly, she sat up straighter, excitement lighting up her features. "That''s it! A project like that would need specialized contractors - permits, equipment, expertise. The pool of companies capable of building a professional research facility can''t be that large!" Pride colored her voice as she followed this new lead. "Find the contractor from 18 years ago, trace it back to who commissioned it, and there''s our breakthrough!"


    The day slipped by as Neiva pursued this angle, her coffee going cold beside her keyboard. Multiple dead ends only fueled her determination. Finally, as afternoon shadows lengthened across her desk, she found something promising - the Construction Projects Agency, a well-established firm with over six decades of matching clients to contractors. Their website boasted of handling specialized construction needs across multiple regions.


    She scheduled an appointment, carefully crafting her cover story as she did so.


    <hr>


    Back in the present, Angelo found himself genuinely intrigued despite his initial skepticism.


    "An interesting approach, I must admit," Blue''s analytical voice resonated through their shared consciousness.


    "I would never have thought of that," Red acknowledged.


    "That''s because you have no concept of how the real world operates," Angelo thought back.


    "Hate to break it to you, but neither do you, Angie," Red''s mental snicker carried his usual sass.


    "Hello? Are you still there?" Neiva''s voice pulled Angelo back to the present moment.


    "Yes, sorry," he replied, surprised to find himself actually curious about her progress. His original assumption that this was an impossible task seemed less certain now. "So you made an appointment. What did they tell you?"


    "About that..." Her voice carried a weight that suggested complications ahead.


    <hr>


    [This Morning]


    The Construction Projects Agency headquarters rose like a gleaming monolith against the midday sky, its polished glass facade reflecting clouds and sunlight in equal measure. Neiva''s reflection stared back at her as she approached the revolving doors, her borrowed business attire making her look older than her seventeen years. The lobby''s marble floors echoed with her careful steps as she approached the reception counter, her heart hammering against her ribs.


    The waiting area exuded corporate luxury - leather chairs, artwork that probably cost more than her apartment, and the soft murmur of filtered air conditioning. Neiva crossed and uncrossed her legs, silently mouthing her rehearsed story while trying not to fidget with her borrowed briefcase.


    "Diana?" The receptionist''s crisp voice cut through her nervous reverie. "The agent will see you now."


    "Thank you," Neiva managed, proud that her voice didn''t shake as she rose and followed the indicated path to a corner office.


    Jimmie proved to be a man who seemed designed for his role - perfect smile, immaculate suit, and an enthusiasm that bordered on aggressive. His office smelled of leather and expensive cologne, diplomas and certifications covering one wall while architectural models decorated glass shelves along another.


    "Welcome! I''m Jimmie, and I''m here to make your construction dreams reality!" His handshake was firm but not overwhelming, practiced to perfection like everything else about him.


    "H-Hello Jimmie, I''m Diana," Neiva replied, channeling every business meeting she''d ever seen in movies. Her borrowed heels clicked against the hardwood floor as she took her seat.


    "How can we help you today?" His smile remained bright and unwavering.


    Neiva launched into her prepared speech, each word carefully chosen. "I represent a pharmaceutical company seeking to commission a new laboratory facility. My superior sent me to explore our options." She was grateful for the hours spent practicing in front of her mirror.


    Jimmie''s enthusiasm somehow increased. "Excellent choice coming to us! We maintain partnerships with dozens of contractors specialized in state-of-the-art laboratory construction. Whatever field you''re working in, we can-"


    "Actually," Neiva interrupted, trying to keep her voice steady, "there''s something specific I need to ask about." She watched his expression carefully as she continued. "My boss mentioned visiting a colleague''s basement laboratory in Ashford, about eighteen years ago. Though it''s gone now, he was quite impressed. Would you happen to know who constructed it?"


    The question caused a barely perceptible crack in Jimmie''s professional facade. His smile flickered for just a moment before recovering. "That''s... quite specific, and not something I was prepared to address today. This laboratory must have been truly remarkable to prompt such a specific inquiry."


    "It was, from what I understand," Neiva leaned forward slightly, playing up her innocent curiosity. "Would your records possibly go back that far?"


    Jimmie''s fingers drummed once on his desk before he caught himself. "We do maintain extensive records, not just of our direct projects but also projects from other companies, for market research purposes..." He trailed off, clearly weighing his options. "I would need to consult with management about accessing such dated information. Perhaps we could focus on current contractors that I know could meet your needs?"


    Neiva felt sweat forming under her blazer but pressed on. "My superior was very specific about researching this particular facility first. What if we scheduled a follow-up after you''ve had time to check those records? If nothing turns up, we can explore other options then?"


    "A week from today?" Jimmie suggested, his tone carrying a hint of resignation mixed with professional courtesy.


    "Perfect," Neiva stood, offering what she hoped was a confident smile. "I look forward to hearing what you find." She added a small wink as she turned to leave, immediately cringing internally at her attempt at corporate flirtation.


    <hr>


    "So you''re meeting him again next week?" Angelo asked, his voice carrying both curiosity and skepticism.


    "N-Not exactly..." Neiva''s nervous laugh crackled through the phone, suggesting there was much more to the story.


    <hr>


    Neiva''s footsteps echoed softly against the corporate bathroom''s tile as she paced the small stall, her borrowed heels long since discarded. "A week? They might reject me anyway. I need those records now!" The fluorescent lights hummed overhead as she settled in for a long wait, checking her phone''s dimming screen periodically as the building slowly emptied.


    Hours crawled by, marked only by the occasional flush from other floors and the steady drip of a leaky faucet. Finally, when the silence outside grew thick enough to suggest abandonment, she emerged from her hiding place. Her legs protested as she stretched, pins and needles shooting through her feet as circulation returned. The bathroom mirror reflected her determination as she smoothed her rumpled clothes and peered into the darkened hallway.


    Like a shadow, she crept through the building''s maze of corridors. Security lights cast eerie patterns across the walls, and the soft whir of climate control seemed deafening in the emptiness. Every corner held the potential for discovery, every distant sound froze her in place until her heart resumed beating.


    Then she saw it - a room lined with filing cabinets and shelves groaning under the weight of countless folders. "Bingo," she breathed, her whisper seeming too loud in the silence. The door clicked shut behind her with what felt like thunderous finality.


    A computer sat on a nearby desk like a beacon of hope in the darkness. "These physical records would take forever to search," she muttered, approaching the workstation. "There has to be a digital database..."


    The login screen''s pale glow illuminated her face as hope turned to frustration. "Damn it!" Her fingers hovered uselessly over the keyboard. "There has to be a password somewhere. People always write these things down..."


    She began searching the desk with increasingly desperate energy, rifling through drawers and checking under mousepads. The sound of papers shuffling and drawers sliding seemed to grow louder with each passing moment. Her breath caught in her throat as the door handle suddenly rattled.


    Neiva dove behind a filing cabinet, her heart threatening to burst from her chest. Every breath felt like it might give her away as footsteps entered the room.


    "Hello? Anyone in here?" A security guard''s flashlight beam cut through the darkness, sweeping across the room. "Must be those pigeons again, always pecking at the windows..." The beam retreated, followed by the sound that would haunt Neiva''s nightmares - the definitive click of a door being locked from the outside.


    The blood drained from her face as the implications sank in. She was trapped, and calling for help would only land her in more trouble than she could imagine.


    <hr>


    "And that''s how I ended up here..." Her voice carried the hollow tone of someone who had thoroughly processed their own idiocy.


    Angelo had been holding his face in his palm so long it left marks. "Let me get this straight - you broke in, and now you''re locked in their records room?"


    "That''s... yeah, pretty much," she admitted, shame coloring every word. "Please, I really need help..."


    "I like her!" Red''s enthusiastic declaration echoed through their shared consciousness.


    "Naturally you''d be drawn to someone with such a talent for creating chaos," Blue observed with desert-dry sarcasm.


    Angelo''s sigh seemed to come from his very soul. "Fine... Send me your location. I''ll get you out of there."


    "My hero!" Her relief was palpable even through the phone. "Sending it now. Please hurry!" The call ended with a soft click, followed immediately by a location pin dropping into his messages.


    Twilight had fully descended over Novaria as Angelo''s orange aura illuminated the base of the towering office building. His phone''s screen cast a ghostly glow on his face as he typed:


    <blockquote>


    Angelo 7:23PM: I''m here. Use your flashlight to signal your window.


    </blockquote>


    The response came almost immediately:


    <blockquote>


    Neiva 7:24PM: Okay! ??


    </blockquote>


    Angelo''s eyes rolled so hard they practically auditioned for the circus. "Red, locate the signal and extract her. I''ll handle any complications down here."


    Red''s crimson essence separated from Angelo like smoke from a dying flame, spiraling upward around the building''s glass. The dark windows reflected his ascent until he spotted it - a faint flickering light near the top floors. His smoky form slipped through microscopic gaps in the window frame, the darkness of the room absorbing his red essence completely.


    Neiva stood alone in the records room, periodically flashing her phone''s light. Red materialized behind her, his crimson aura suddenly painting the room in bloody light. She caught his reflection in the window and spun around, heart leaping into her throat.


    "A-Angelo?" she gasped, confusion evident in her voice. "I thought your aura was orange..."


    Red''s predatory grin gleamed in the darkness as his energy tendrils worked the window''s latch. "Hey sugar-tits, ready for a midnight ride?"


    Down below, Angelo''s palm met his face with audible force. "Why did I send him..." he muttered into his hand.


    "E-Excuse me?" Neiva''s indignant sputter was cut short as Red lunged forward, scooping her up before she could protest. Her scream echoed off the surrounding buildings as they plummeted from the window.


    The building''s entrance doors swung open, spilling light onto the sidewalk as an elderly gentleman emerged. His carefully maintained mustache twitched as he spotted Angelo staring upward. Following Angelo''s gaze, the man''s eyes widened in alarm.


    "Good lord! Thieves!" he exclaimed, his mustache practically vibrating with outrage.


    Angelo turned smoothly, maintaining his professional demeanor despite his internal panic. "Is there a problem, citizen?"


    "You''re an officer!" The man''s voice carried the particular volume of someone used to being listened to. "That red Auron - he just fled from my building!"


    "I''ll investigate immediately," Angelo replied with practiced authority, his orange aura blazing to life as he launched himself upward.


    "Blue, stay here. Make sure he doesn''t call this in," Angelo''s thought carried clear command. Blue''s essence remained behind, hovering near the agitated gentleman for a few minutes before materializing from behind a corner.


    "Sir," Blue addressed the man, perfectly mimicking Angelo''s voice. "I''ve investigated the disturbance. Simply another Auron using the building as a traversal point. Nothing suspicious to report."


    "Oh... well then," the man''s mustache settled as his concern deflated. "Thank you, officer."


    "Have a pleasant evening," Blue offered before disappearing around the corner, his form dissolving back into smoke to rejoin the others.


    Several blocks away, Red landed on a rooftop with his unwilling passenger. "There you go, you''re welcom-" The crack of Neiva''s palm against his face echoed across the rooftop.


    "How dare you!" she practically vibrated with fury. "I wasn''t ready! And that crude comment-"


    "Relax, that wasn''t me," Angelo''s voice cut through her tirade as he landed beside them.


    Neiva''s eyes darted between the two identical figures, her brain struggling to process the impossibility before her.


    "Hahaha, that look never gets old!" Red''s cackle only deepened her confusion.


    Without warning, Angelo manifested a blade of forged energy, cleaving through Red''s neck in one fluid motion. Neiva''s horrified shriek mixed with Red''s laughter as his form dissolved into smoke and streamed back into Angelo''s body, his amusement still echoing through their shared consciousness. "What''s wrong, hit a nerve?" Red''s mental voice dripped with satisfaction.


    Blue''s azure smoke reached Angelo and reintegrated with him, then he emerged and solidified beside them, his calm aura casting a steadier light across the rooftop than Angelo''s flickering orange.


    "My sincere apologies for the confusion, Neiva," Blue''s measured tones seemed to deflate some of the tension. "I imagine you have questions."


    "What... how are there more of you?" Her voice trembled slightly as she tried to make sense of what she''d witnessed.


    "How did you put it earlier? It''s a long story..."


    The city lights sparkled below them like earthbound stars as they prepared to explain their unique existence to yet another bewildered observer. Somewhere in the distance, a clock tower began to toll, marking the end of another extraordinary day in Novaria.

 26. The Angel of Death Is Back

    The last rays of twilight painted Novaria''s skyline in deep purples and blues, the city''s festival lanterns beginning to flicker to life far below the rooftop where they stood. Wind whipped around them, carrying the mingled scents of cooking food from street vendors and the metallic tang of approaching rain. Neiva hugged herself against the chill as she tried to process what she''d just witnessed, her eyes darting between Angelo and Blue as they explained their unique existence.


    The pristine concrete of the office building''s roof formed a stark backdrop for their impossible conversation. Blue''s azure aura cast dancing shadows across their faces while Angelo''s orange glow pulsed gently, their competing light sources creating an otherworldly atmosphere that seemed fitting for such an extraordinary discussion.


    "This is..." Neiva''s voice trailed off as she shook her head, her brilliant red hair catching the mixed light of their auras. "I mean, I want to believe you, but the implications are staggering. Three distinct consciousnesses sharing one body? It defies everything we know about Auron abilities."


    Angelo''s jaw tightened, a muscle twitching beneath his skin as familiar frustration welled up. His evolved aura flickered more intensely, reflecting his agitation. "Believe what you want," he said, his tone carrying the weariness of someone who''d had this conversation too many times. "My reality doesn''t depend on your acceptance of it."


    "Angelo," Blue interjected, his cultured tones carrying the patience of a long-suffering mediator. "Her skepticism is both natural and logical. Even you would question such an extraordinary claim without evidence." His perfectly maintained posture and careful gestures provided a stark contrast to Angelo''s barely contained irritation.


    "I suppose," Angelo conceded grudgingly, his boots scuffing against the rooftop as he shifted his weight.


    Blue''s expression brightened slightly as inspiration struck. "Consider this - Professor Goldstein''s recent publication of the ''Components of Pure Energy Theory'' provides empirical validation of our condition. We''re credited as the primary subjects of his research."


    "Wait, what?" Angelo and Neiva spoke in perfect unison, then exchanged startled glances. A distant rumble of thunder punctuated the moment as Angelo added, "I''d completely forgotten about that."


    Neiva''s fingers flew across her phone''s screen, the device''s glow illuminating her face as her eyes widened. "It''s true! You''re actually mentioned by name - all three of you! To think you''re the focus of Albert Goldstein''s groundbreaking research..." Her voice filled with genuine awe.


    A blush crept across her cheeks as she lowered her phone, hesitation evident in her posture. "So that red one earlier, the one who..." She trailed off, clearly uncomfortable with the memory of Red''s crude behavior.


    "Red," Angelo supplied, his expression darkening. "Our third aspect. And no, we have no explanation for his... personality quirks. I''d say he was dropped on his head as a baby, but that''s technically impossible." His dry tone carried equal parts exasperation and resignation.


    "Aw, you''re making me blush!" Red''s sardonic voice echoed through their shared consciousness, making Angelo''s eye twitch visibly.


    "When you..." Neiva swallowed hard, forcing herself to continue, "when you beheaded him... did you actually...?"


    "Kill him?" Angelo finished, shaking his head. "Unfortunately not. They can''t die - their forms just reconstruct when I use my aura. They don''t sleep either. In fact," his expression soured further, "Red''s commenting on this conversation right now."


    "That''s..." Neiva appeared to struggle for words, her understanding of Auron abilities clearly failing to account for their situation.


    "Perhaps we should return to more pressing matters," Blue suggested diplomatically, his aura casting steady light across the rooftop. "Were you able to obtain any useful information during your... investigation?"


    Neiva''s shoulders slumped as embarrassment colored her features. "No," she admitted, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I couldn''t crack their security. I was looking for written passwords, like in movies and games..." She trailed off, realizing how naive it sounded.


    "Why would they-" Angelo started to ask, then caught himself with a weary sigh. Instead, his expression shifted to something more calculating. "Fine. Tomorrow I''ll send Red back in. He can observe in smoke form until someone enters their password."


    "What?!" Blue and Neiva''s shocked exclamations echoed off nearby buildings.


    "You can do that?" Neiva breathed, fascination overtaking her previous embarrassment.


    "This is completely unethical!" Blue protested, his usual composure cracking. "You''re an officer of the law!"


    Angelo turned to face his more logical aspect, his orange eyes blazing with sudden intensity. "I''m an Auron division officer," he corrected, his voice dropping to something dangerous and cold. "My job is stopping Aurons who abuse their power to terrorize innocent people. I never swore an oath to uphold every letter of the law." The festival lanterns below cast shifting shadows across his face, making his expression seem carved from stone.


    "I agree with Angelo," Neiva''s voice had transformed, matching his coldness. The frightened girl from the records room was gone, replaced by someone harder. "The law didn''t protect my parents. It didn''t catch their killer. Sometimes justice requires... alternative methods." The wind picked up around them, making her borrowed business attire flutter like dark wings.


    Blue studied them both for a long moment, his analytical nature clearly wrestling with their perspective. "It is not my place to judge, but I cannot endorse your methods," he finally said, his tone carrying philosophical resignation. "But I understand the pain that drives them." His form dissolved into azure smoke, streaming back into Angelo''s body as the first drops of rain began to fall.


    "Come on," Angelo said, his evolved aura brightening as he extended a tendril of forged energy. "Let''s get you home. Unlike Red, I''ll at least give you warning before we jump."


    "I''d appreciate that," Neiva managed a small smile, though her eyes still carried shadows of darker thoughts. "Red''s a bit... intense."


    "Ungrateful brat," Red''s mental voice dripped with theatrical offense as Angelo secured Neiva with his energy construct. Together they stepped off the roof, descending into the glittering maze of Novaria''s festival-decorated streets, leaving behind the stark reality of their conversation for the dizzying freedom of Auron travel.


    Festival lanterns strung between buildings blurred past as Angelo''s forged energy tendrils carried them through Novaria''s nighttime skyline. The autumn wind whipped through Neiva''s hair, carrying the sharp bite of approaching winter. Despite the exhilarating sensation of flight, a shadow seemed to hang over her thoughts.


    "I suppose this means I failed you," she said quietly, her words nearly lost to the rushing air. The borrowed business attire fluttered around her like dark wings as another of Angelo''s tendrils adjusted its grip. "I couldn''t get you that lead..."


    Angelo''s evolved aura pulsed steadily as they arced between towers, his movements carrying the fluid grace of someone who had made the city''s rooftops his domain. "Don''t write it off just yet," he replied, his voice carrying unexpected warmth. "Tomorrow will give us our answer."


    "But it won''t be me finding it," Neiva protested, guilt evident in her tone. "If you and Red discover something..."


    "Who said you had to be the one to physically uncover it?" Angelo cut in, his orange eyes flickering briefly toward her. "Our agreement was that you''d help me find a lead. This approach - targeting old construction records - that was your idea. If we find something tomorrow, it''s because of your thinking." The logic seemed to lift some weight from Neiva''s shoulders, a small smile playing across her lips.


    The moment shattered as Angelo''s police radio crackled to life, static-filled desperation cutting through the night: "Any...one... C..n Anyone... ear... me..."


    Angelo''s reaction was instant. His tendrils latched onto the nearest rooftop, bringing them to an abrupt halt that made Neiva''s stomach lurch. She hung suspended in the air, wrapped securely in glowing orange energy as they listened.


    "I need reinforcements!" The voice fought through waves of static.


    Angelo snatched his transceiver, his evolved aura intensifying with tension. "Copy, what''s your location? Over."


    More static crackled before: "East of town square... please hurry, I don''t know how long-" The transmission died in a burst of white noise.


    "Shit," Angelo''s curse carried the weight of painful memory as he spun mid-air, forged energy tendrils launching them toward town square. The festival decorations that had seemed cheerful moments ago now felt like mocking witnesses to another potential tragedy.


    The attack site announced itself with a column of thick smoke rising against the star-studded sky, lit from below by the eerie glow of clashing auras. Angelo touched down in a street that had become a battlefield - shattered windows and scorched walls telling silent stories of violence. A police officer lay crumpled nearby, while in the distance two luminous figures traded devastating blows that lit up the night like deadly fireworks.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Angelo rushed to the fallen officer, his own aura casting orange light across the man''s ashen features. "Talk to me!" he demanded, checking vitals with practiced urgency.


    The officer''s eyes flickered, barely focusing. "Angelo..." blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he spoke. "Stop him... he already... mother and child..." His trembling hand pointed to the side, where two still forms lay twisted on the pavement, their silence more devastating than any scream.


    Rage transformed Angelo''s features into something terrible as he rose, forged energy robes materializing around him as he took his first step toward the distant battle. But Blue''s azure form materialized before him like a voice of reason given physical form.


    "Have you lost your mind?!" Blue''s usually measured tone cracked with urgency. "You brought Neiva into this chaos!"


    The words hit Angelo like a physical blow. He spun around to find Neiva still suspended in his energy tendril, her face pale with fear and confusion. "You finally noticed," she managed, her attempt at indignation barely masking her terror. "You haven''t responded to anything I''ve said..."


    "Damn it," Angelo''s fury warred with responsibility on his face. "Blue, protect her. I''m ending this." His evolved scythe began to materialize in his grip.


    "Look out!" Blue''s warning came with action as he shoved Angelo aside. A beam of purple energy tore through Blue''s materialized form, forcing him back into smoke that streamed into Angelo''s body.


    The source of the attack approached with measured steps, his purple aura crackling around him like contained lightning. The raw power radiating from him made the air itself feel thick and heavy. Angelo carefully set Neiva down, his expression hardening into the mask of the Angel of Death.


    "Neiva," his voice carried deadly calm as he positioned himself between her and the approaching threat. "Get the officer to safety. I''ll handle this." He caught her eyes for just a moment, his next words carrying absolute conviction: "I won''t let anything happen to you."


    The purple Auron halted within earshot, his aura crackling around him, casting twisted shadows across broken glass and scorched concrete. Behind him, the bodies of his victims lay as silent testament to his brutality.


    "You''ve got a special kind of nerve," Angelo''s voice carried the chill of a morgue, his evolved aura pulsing with controlled fury. The orange glow of his forged energy robes seemed to intensify with each word. "Tell me something - are you genuinely brave enough to challenge an Evolved Auron, or just too stupid to know better?"


    His opponent''s response came as a guttural snarl, deep voice filled with the kind of malice that spoke of a mind long since abandoned. "Cut your crap, boy!" The purple Auron''s aura flared wildly, his sneer revealing teeth bared like a feral animal. "You think I can''t see energy levels? That fancy orange glow doesn''t fool me - I can see exactly how weak you are. You''re nothing but dead meat walking!"


    The festival lanterns above dimmed in comparison to their competing auras - Angelo''s steady orange radiance against the purple Auron''s crackling fury. The air between them grew heavy with the promise of violence as two very different kinds of monsters prepared to clash in the heart of festival-decorated Novaria.


    Angelo finally opened his mouth "If staring death in the face doesn''t change a man... nothing will. And now, now you are staring straight into the face of death. Change your heart and surrender. Or attack, and seal your fate." The purple Auron looked at Angelo, his face twitching. Finally he spat at Angelo''s direction.


    The purple Auron''s defiant gesture hung in the air like a challenge. Without warning, he lunged forward with murderous intent. Angelo settled into a combat stance, his scythe humming with barely contained power as forged energy tendrils erupted from his body like living weapons, each one moving with lethal precision.


    Their clash lit up the night like a contained supernova. The purple Auron unleashed a devastating combination - one hand projecting a beam of concentrated energy at Angelo''s scythe while the other launched a punch wreathed in crackling power. The beam caught Angelo''s weapon in a deadlock, purple energy grinding against orange forged energy with enough force to make the air between them distort and shimmer. The sound was like a thousand pieces of glass being crushed simultaneously. Angelo''s grip tightened on his scythe, but the beam held it immobile, the competing energies creating spider-web patterns of light in the air between them.


    The punch came next, enhanced by concentrated energy, but Angelo''s forged energy gauntlet met it with equal force. The impact sent shockwaves rippling through the ground, rattling any windows that had somehow survived the earlier exchange.


    "Almost ready to join the party, Angie!" Red''s anticipation crackled through their shared consciousness.


    "Stay out of this," Angelo''s mental response carried deadly focus. "He''s mine." His energy tendrils whipped through the air like living weapons, forcing his opponent to break away or be eviscerated. Each tendril left trails of orange light in its wake, creating a deadly dance of illumination.


    "Time to end this," Angelo''s cold declaration carried absolute certainty. "ENERGY WAVE!" The attack erupted from his hands like a river of pure destruction, turning night to day as it screamed toward its target.


    But the purple Auron stood his ground, matching the attack with his own energy beam. Their collision point exploded into a nexus of competing power, creating a shockwave that sent festival decorations flying in all directions. The air itself seemed to groan under the pressure as purple energy began to push back orange, the difference in raw power becoming devastatingly clear. Even with evolution on his side, Angelo''s fractured nature put him at a disadvantage in pure energy output.


    "Raw power isn''t the answer here," Blue''s warning cut through the chaos.


    Angelo ignored the advice, his eyes locked on his opponent with grim determination. "Energetic fissure," he whispered, and the street beneath them came alive. Energy coursed through the ground like liquid lightning before two tendrils erupted like twin geysers of forged energy that caught the purple Auron''s arms, yanking him skyward. The sudden restraint broke his concentration, leaving him helpless against Angelo''s energy wave. The impact created an explosion that lit up half the street, but when the light faded, their opponent remained conscious - battered but still radiating defiance through his flickering aura.


    "Yes! Finish him!" Red''s bloodthirsty glee pulsed through their link.


    "Angelo, don''t!" Blue''s measured voice carried urgent warning. "Remember the consequences!"


    Two more tendrils of forged energy joined the first pair, wrapping around the purple Auron''s legs and tightening their grip. The criminal struggled against his bonds, his aura flaring wildly as he tried to summon more power, but his injuries had taken their toll. His desperate attempts at resistance only made the restraints constrict further.


    Red and Blue''s opposing urgings created a war in Angelo''s consciousness until a dark epiphany struck him - if death was forbidden, perhaps there were fates that would make death seem merciful.


    The energy tendrils began to glow with ominous intensity, their grip inexorably tightening. The sound of straining joints filled the air as Angelo slowly stretched and crushed his opponent''s limbs. The purple Auron''s scream of agony echoed off nearby buildings.


    "STOOOOP!" The plea carried raw terror.


    "You will taste a fate worse than simple death," Angelo''s voice resonated with cold purpose, his evolved aura casting everything in shades of orange and shadow. "Surrender now, or I will make you beg for oblivion."


    "I SURRENDER!" The words burst from the purple Auron between screams as the pressure increased. "PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP!" The sickening sound of cracking bones punctuated his desperate cries.


    "Deactivate your aura." The command carried no mercy, no emotion - just the absolute certainty that compliance was the only path to survival.


    After an agonizing moment filled with the sounds of straining joints and cracking bones, the purple aura finally flickered and died. Angelo''s tendrils released their prey, letting the broken man collapse into a whimpering heap on the cracked pavement. As he secured the subdued criminal, the night seemed to exhale around them, as if even the city itself had been holding its breath.


    The Angel of Death had delivered his judgment - not through execution, but through a demonstration that some fates could be worse than the grave.


    Angelo''s evolved form dissolved like morning mist, the forged energy robes and halo dissipating into particles of orange light that faded into the night air. His movements were methodical as he secured the handcuffs around his groaning opponent''s wrists, the metal clicking with grim finality. He sensed rather than saw Neiva''s approach, her footsteps hesitant on the cracked pavement behind him.


    "You probably think I was too harsh," Angelo said without turning, his voice carrying a weight of pre-emptive defense against expected judgment. Festival lanterns swayed gently overhead, their cheerful light seeming obscene against the tragedy that had unfolded beneath them.


    Neiva''s gaze drifted to where the mother and child lay, their stillness more devastating than any violence. Her expression hardened like ice forming over deep water. "No... He deserved it." Her voice carried an edge that made her sound older than her years. "Maybe you weren''t harsh enough."


    The cold approval in her tone made Angelo turn, their eyes meeting in a moment of shared darkness. Something passed between them - a recognition that they both understood how justice and mercy weren''t always compatible. The moment stretched until Angelo finally broke away, turning back to his secured prisoner.


    "We''ll wait for the police to arrive," he said, his voice softening slightly. "Then I''ll take you home. Okay?"


    "Okay..." Her reply carried the exhaustion of someone who had seen too much reality in one night.


    The aftermath unfolded with practiced efficiency - police cars and ambulances arriving with their competing lights painting the street in alternating red and blue. Medical teams moved with gentle urgency around the injured officer while others performed the grimmer duty of attending to the night''s innocent victims. Through it all, Angelo and Neiva stood in silence, witnesses to the routine of tragedy.


    Their journey back to her apartment was equally quiet, the city''s festival preparations continuing below them as if nothing had happened. When they finally landed, Angelo''s forged energy tendril lowered her to her doorstep with surprising gentleness.


    "Tomorrow," he said, breaking the long silence. "Where should we meet before getting that information?"


    Neiva blinked in surprise, clearly thrown off balance. "Y-You still want my help? But how? Red''s doing all the actual work..."


    "Red can barely operate a smartphone," Angelo replied with matter-of-fact directness. "We need someone who knows what they''re looking for - someone to guide the operation." The effect of his words was immediate and dramatic.


    Joy bloomed across Neiva''s face like sunshine breaking through storm clouds. "Really? You mean it?" Her earlier darkness vanished beneath pure enthusiasm, making her look her age again.


    "I... yes," Angelo managed, slightly taken aback by her transformation. "You probably understand the records better than we would." He paused thoughtfully. "Well, Blue might help, but he''s taking a moral stand on this one."


    "That is correct," Blue''s internal confirmation carried philosophical disapproval sharp enough to cut glass.


    "You got it, boss!" Neiva was practically bouncing with excitement, but she froze mid-motion as Angelo''s expression suddenly transformed. "What''s wrong?"


    "Please..." His voice carried an echo of recent grief. "Don''t... don''t call me boss." The weight of memory seemed to press down on his shoulders like a physical force.


    "Oh..." Understanding flickered across her features as she remembered the news about his fallen trainee. "Right, um... how about 5PM tomorrow? You can pick me up here?" Her attempt to redirect the conversation was obvious but welcome.


    "That works," Angelo nodded, grateful for the change of subject. "Good night, Neiva." He turned and launched himself into the night sky, his orange aura briefly illuminating the street before he vanished between buildings.


    As he traveled home through the festival-decorated city, his mind churned with the day''s events - Neiva''s attempted infiltration, the brutal fight, the darkness he''d seen in her that matched his own. But most of all, that word - ''boss'' - echoed in his thoughts, carrying with it memories of an earnest smile and unwavering faith that would never greet him again.


    The moon hung low over Novaria as another day drew to a close, while somewhere in the city''s heart, festival preparations continued for a celebration that seemed increasingly distant from the reality of their world.

 27. Mission is A GO!

    Dawn crept through the gaps in Angelo''s apartment blinds, painting thin stripes of golden light across the worn hardwood floors. The familiar scents of coffee and dust motes mingled in the air, remnants of his morning routine that had survived his brief suspension. Though "brief" felt like an understatement - amazing how quickly life could transform in just one week.


    The television''s artificial glow cast flickering shadows across the sparse living room, where Red lounged on their secondhand couch, his materialized form sprawled with casual disregard for proper posture. Some mindless daytime show droned on, its dialogue mixing with the distant sounds of early morning traffic filtering up from the streets below. Festival preparations had begun in earnest across Novaria, and even from this height, the metallic clanking of workers hanging decorations carried clearly through the crisp autumn air.


    Angelo stood before his bedroom mirror, adjusting his freshly pressed uniform. The fabric still carried that distinct new-clothes scent, a constant reminder of how his previous one had ended up shredded and blood-soaked. But beneath the professional exterior, something else churned in his gut - anticipation, maybe even hope. After eighteen years, they might finally uncover some fragment of truth about his parents'' murder.


    "I see you''re still committed to this ethical transgression," Blue materialized near the window, his azure form catching the morning light as he studied the street below. His cultured tones carried carefully measured disapproval.


    "If by ''ethical transgression'' you mean getting information from an office building, then yeah," Angelo replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he finished lacing his boots. "I''m practically history''s greatest monster."


    "The semantics of the location hardly mitigate the moral implications," Blue countered, his posture radiating scholarly disappointment. "As an officer of the law-"


    "As an officer who wants answers," Angelo cut him off, snatching a misplaced remote from his desk. Without warning, he hurled it at Red''s head with precise force.


    Red''s hand shot up, catching the projectile without even glancing away from the television. "You do realize I can see that coming through your eyes, right?" he drawled, his tone suggesting Angelo had interrupted something fascinating. "Shared sensory input and all that?"


    "Didn''t think you could focus enough to translate my perspective into your movements," Angelo admitted, genuine curiosity coloring his voice. "That''s actually impressive coordination."


    A predatory grin spread across Red''s face. "That''s my secret, Angie - chaos is just another form of awareness."


    "How poetic," Blue''s dry response could have dehydrated an ocean. "Though perhaps we could focus on the ethical implications of-"


    "Save the lecture," Angelo interrupted, checking his phone''s time display. "Red, you know what you need to do. The longer you observe that records room, the better chance of catching someone''s password entry."


    The transformation in Red''s demeanor was immediate and dramatic. His previous smugness evaporated like morning dew under a blowtorch. "Oh god," horror crept into his voice as realization dawned. "You mean I have to just... sit there? And wait? Like some kind of... office ghost?!"


    "Unless you don''t want to find out who murdered our parents," Angelo''s voice carried deadly serious weight as he moved toward the door. The morning light caught his aura as it flickered to life, casting orange shadows that seemed to emphasize the gravity of his words.


    Red''s groan of despair could have awakened the dead. "...fine. But I''m not happy about it."


    "Noted," Angelo stepped into the hallway, his evolved state coming easier now, more natural with each passing day. The familiar drain on his stamina felt manageable, testament to his meditation practice paying off. As he soared between Novaria''s towers, festival preparations in full swing below, his mind turned toward the station and whatever new challenges awaited.


    The precinct''s imposing facade greeted him with its usual stoic presence, though something felt different in the air. Perhaps the other officers had finally adjusted to Joe''s dramatic presence, or maybe the rock star Auron had found somewhere else to perform his attitude. Either way, a new day of possibilities stretched before him - both official and otherwise.


    The morning sun painted stark patterns across the polished floor of the precinct as Angelo checked his watch - 10 AM. "Time to earn your keep, Red. That password isn''t going to steal itself," he thought through their shared consciousness.


    "Don''t remind me," Red''s essence departed with theatrical sulkiness, slipping away like crimson smoke through invisible cracks just as Vivian approached, her heels clicking purposefully against the polished floor.


    "Angelo," she greeted, her usual professional demeanor softening around the edges. "How are you holding up? After everything..." The festival preparations outside cast shifting shadows across her face as she searched for the right words.


    "Taking it day by day," Angelo managed, forcing lightness into his tone. "Keeping busy helps."


    Vivian nodded, understanding flickering in her eyes. "The chief asked to see you," she added, smoothing her uniform reflexively. "Though he seemed more... contemplative than usual."


    "Perhaps he''s finally recognized your unique talent for creative limb rearrangement," Blue''s mental voice carried scholarly mockery.


    As Angelo climbed the familiar stairs to Ramirez''s office, he allowed himself a moment of optimism. "My new Adept ranking should at least mean better compensation," he mused, knuckles rapping against the heavy oak door.


    "Enter," Ramirez''s gruff voice commanded. The office beyond felt smaller than usual, morning light filtering through half-drawn blinds to illuminate dancing dust motes. The chief himself sat behind his imposing desk, reading glasses perched low as he studied a thick folder with unusual intensity.


    "You requested my presence, sir?" Angelo kept his tone carefully neutral, studying his superior''s uncharacteristically tense posture.


    Ramirez removed his glasses with deliberate slowness. "I''ve been reviewing yesterday''s incident report," he began, his usual commanding presence somehow diminished. "The medical evaluation makes for disturbing reading. Multiple compound fractures, severe tissue trauma..." He tapped the folder meaningfully. "The review board has expressed serious concerns about the level of force employed."


    "Classic bureaucratic bullshit," Red''s distant thought carried bitter frustration. "They probably wanted us to ask nicely for him to stop murdering people."


    "Sir, with respect," Angelo chose his words carefully, "subduing him required exceptional measures. His combat capabilities were far beyond standard parameters."


    "Yes... his professional background certainly complicated matters," Ramirez conceded, shifting in his chair with unusual discomfort. "The treatment facility warned us about his deteriorating condition, but the scope of yesterday''s tragedy exceeded all projections..."


    Angelo''s phone vibrated against his hip - a notification he couldn''t check, not with the conversation taking this delicate turn. Something in the chief''s manner set off warning bells in his mind.


    "Perhaps it''s time I offered some context," Angelo ventured, deciding a calculated revelation might strengthen his position. "About Red and Blue, and why I can''t always exercise... restraint."


    The change in Ramirez''s posture was subtle but immediate - a tightening around the eyes, a slight straightening of his spine that seemed almost rehearsed.


    "Something''s off with him," Red''s warning cut through their shared consciousness, sharp with unusual concern.


    "What do you mean?" Angelo thought back, studying his superior''s face with renewed intensity.


    "Can''t explain it," Red''s response carried frustrated certainty. "Just wrong. Like he''s playing a part."


    "I suppose I have wondered about their nature," Ramirez offered carefully, his words carrying an odd formality. "These... aspects of yours are rather unique."


    "Professor Goldstein spent years studying our condition," Angelo began, watching the chief''s reactions closely. "His research revealed something extraordinary - we''re essentially a single being whose energy separated into three distinct yet connected components. The implications are still being debated in the scientific community."


    Ramirez waved a hand dismissively. "Spare me the theoretical physics, son. What''s the practical impact?"


    "Simply put, we''re three separate manifestations of the same person," Angelo explained, noting how the chief''s eyes narrowed at certain details. "We share consciousness, sensory input, everything - but we''re distinct entities."


    "So they''re not simply part of your abilities," Ramirez ventured, an odd note in his voice.


    "No, sir. It''s more fundamental than that - a condition I always had. Though they only emerged physically when my aura first manifested-" Angelo caught himself as Ramirez tensed almost imperceptibly.


    "Yes, I recall hearing about that," the chief interjected too quickly. "Sleeser mentioned it during our preliminary discussions about your recruitment."


    "He''s lying," Red''s certainty echoed through their link. "Don''t know how I know, but he is."


    "Did he now?" Angelo kept his tone neutral despite growing suspicion. "Well, there''s another side effect of my condition beside Red and Blue that impacts my combat capabilities."


    "Your face is a side effect!" Red''s mental outburst carried his characteristic irreverence.


    "Because our energy is divided," Angelo continued, ignoring his counterpart''s commentary, "my maximum power output is permanently reduced to fifty percent of normal capacity. This means that in combat situations, especially against tougher opponents, holding back isn''t just risky - it''s potentially fatal."


    "I trust this explanation provides sufficient context for my methods," Angelo rose from his chair with practiced nonchalance, studying the chief''s bewildered expression. "Unless there''s something else you need to discuss?"


    Ramirez looked like a man trying to solve a complex equation without numbers. "No, that''s... that will suffice," he managed, his usual authoritative presence crumbling around the edges.


    Angelo slipped out before his superior could recover, allowing himself a small smirk once safely in the hallway. "Watching him squirm like that - almost worth sharing our secret," he thought with satisfaction.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    "Truly a masterclass in deflection," Blue''s response dripped scholarly sarcasm. "Perhaps you missed your calling in theatrical performance."


    "There was something else though," Red mused as his essence drifted through the corporate maze. "He was feeling tense at times like- DAMN IT ALL, WHERE IS THIS BLASTED ROOM?!" His mental voice crescendoed with mounting frustration.


    "Shall I draw you a map?" Blue''s cutting response could have sliced granite. "Or perhaps a series of colorful arrows? Though I suspect even that might exceed your navigational capabilities."


    "Watch it, you walking talking blueberry!" Red''s crimson form twisted with agitation as he circled the building for the third time. "Not all of us memorize floor plans for fun!"


    "Someone''s feeling particularly acidic today," Angelo observed, noting Blue''s unusually sharp tongue.


    "Merely providing perspective," Blue redirected smoothly. "And speaking of perspective, only Red seems to sense anything amiss with the chief. I observed no concrete signs of duplicity."


    "Neither did I," Angelo admitted, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. "But after what happened with Jill... maybe Red''s instincts deserve more credit."


    "A difficult concession to make," Blue acknowledged with clear reluctance.


    Angelo''s phone vibrated against his hip, drawing his attention. His breath caught at the name on the screen: "Miriam..." The message unfurled before him:


    ''Dear Angelo, I hope this finds you well. I''ve been thinking about our conversation, about my offer. Whether or not you''ve reached a decision, I''d love to have you for dinner this evening. No pressure, just good food and company.''


    Angelo froze several doors down from the chief''s office, tension radiating through his frame. "How do I even begin to respond to this?"


    "You could start by accepting," Blue suggested, his typically analytical tone carrying unexpected warmth.


    "You can''t be serious," Angelo''s mental voice strained with barely contained anxiety. "A family dinner? With us?"


    "The stability of a home environment could prove invaluable to your psychological well-being," Blue pressed gently.


    "It would be a disaster," Angelo protested weakly. "Red would have her questioning her sanity within days."


    "I can control myself, you know," Red''s voice cut through their debate with unusual solemnity. "At least... under her roof. I''d make the effort."


    The sincerity in Red''s tone left both Angelo and Blue momentarily stunned. "Are you running a fever?" Angelo finally managed. "Can you two even get fevers?"


    Red''s essence vibrated with sudden volatility. "What, I can''t show basic human decency?!" he snapped, before his voice softened to something raw and honest. "She''s hurting enough without us adding to it. If you''d just listened earlier... if I''d pushed harder about my suspicions..." His words trailed into painful silence.


    "Not this again," Angelo''s shoulders sagged beneath invisible weight. "We all carry that burden."


    "Yeah, well," Red''s anger dissolved into something more vulnerable. "Some burdens feel heavier than others. Damn it all, but I actually miss that earnest little rookie!" The confession struck them all like a physical blow.


    "Lets stop talking about it," Angelo''s mental voice hardened to ice. "Right now, we focus on dinner. Are we in agreement?"


    "A logical course of action," Blue''s response carried carefully constructed calm.


    "Whatever," Red mumbled, his usual fire dampened to embers.


    Angelo''s fingers moved across his phone screen, crafting an acceptance to Miriam''s invitation. Outside, festival preparations filled the air with the sounds of construction and celebration, their cheerful cacophony a stark counterpoint to the heavy silence that had settled over their shared consciousness.


    "There," Blue''s voice carried sudden urgency before catching himself. "


    Red, the records room - you just passed-" He cut off abruptly, remembering his ethical objections to their entire operation.


    "Heh, thanks blueberry," Red''s crimson essence backtracked and slipped through the doorframe. The empty room greeted him with the soft hum of a locked computer and the musty scent of old files. "And now we wait..." His mental voice dripped misery.


    The minutes crawled by like hours as Red studied every detail of the room - the neat rows of filing cabinets, the slightly crooked blinds, the coffee ring on a nearby desk. Finally, his patience shattered. "I''M LOSING MY MIND IN HERE!"


    "Try making some noise," Angelo suggested through their link. "Might draw someone in to investigate. If they check the computer-"


    "Brilliant plan, genius," Red''s sarcasm could have stripped paint. "Maybe you forgot I can''t affect anything in smoke form? And if I materialize, I''m stuck solid unless I want to shoot straight back to you! Real helpful!"


    "Ah... right," Angelo''s mental voice carried embarrassment. "What about patrolling outside? Try catching someone''s eye, guide them toward the room?"


    "Ugh, fine. Better than counting ceiling tiles." The next hour devolved into Red''s increasingly frustrated attempts at human herding. "This way... no, not the break room, you caffeinated sheep! THE RECORDS ROOM!"


    Finally, someone meandered into the room, heading straight for the file shelves. Red''s essence rushed in behind them, hope rising - only to watch in horror as they ignored the computer completely.


    "NOOOOO!" His mental scream made Angelo wince mid-patrol. "The computer''s RIGHT THERE IDIOT! USE IT!"


    The employee sighed heavily, rifling through folders. "Won''t find it here... should check the database."


    "YES! FUCKING FINALLY!" Red''s excitement bubbled through their link. "Type that password, you beautiful office drone!"


    "If I could just remember the password..." The man muttered.


    "CURSE THIS ENTIRE BUILDING!" Red''s despair would have been funny if it wasn''t so earnest.


    "Hey, anyone remember the archive password?" The man called out suddenly.


    A distant voice responded: "2244!"


    "Two... two... four... four?" Red''s essence practically vibrated with indignation. "THREE HOURS OF MY LIFE FOR FOUR DIGITS?!"


    "Not exactly high level security," Blue observed with scholarly amusement.


    "Well done, Red," Angelo cut in. "Return to base. We''ll send you back when we meet with Neiva-"


    "Oh no," Red''s mental voice took on a dangerous edge. "This place owes me some entertainment."


    "Red, don''t you dare-"


    "Can''t hear you over the sound of impending chaos!"


    What followed was thirty minutes of pure mayhem. Red materialized in the kitchen, methodically swapping every food container with its identical neighbor - coffee with decaf, sugar with salt, creating culinary landmines throughout the break room. He systematically emptied every printer he could find, scattered paper clips like confetti, and terrorized the women''s restroom with phantom knocking that sent screams echoing through the halls.


    His reign of petty terror came to an abrupt halt when an employee did a double-take, staring at his unfamiliar face. "Hey, who are-" Recognition dawned in her eyes. "HEY! STOP!"


    Red dove into the nearest empty office as footsteps thundered behind him. When the door burst open seconds later, the room contained nothing but dancing dust motes and the lingering sense of mischief accomplished.


    <hr>


    The evening sun cast long shadows across Novaria''s streets as Angelo touched down in front of Neiva''s house. She was already at the window, her face lighting up at his arrival. Before his knuckles could even graze the door, she burst out with barely contained excitement.


    "Angelo!" Her enthusiasm practically radiated off her. "I can''t believe this is actually happening!"


    Angelo ran a hand through his hair, uncomfortable with her eagerness. "It''s just information gathering. Try not to get too worked up about it."


    "But if we find something good, you''ll let me join your team!" She bounced on her heels like an overexcited puppy.


    "Team?" Angelo''s brow furrowed. "That sounds weird. More like... taking you under my wing or something."


    "Call it whatever you want!" Her smile could have powered half the city.


    Angelo opened his mouth to respond, but Red''s cackling laughter cut through their shared consciousness. Through Red''s eyes, Angelo saw a memo posted on a bulletin board: "WARNING: Recent break room incidents include swapped sugar/salt containers and emptied milk cartons. Exercise caution - further pranks possible."


    "Got that out of your system?" Angelo muttered aloud, earning a curious look from Neiva.


    "What did he do?" she asked, eyes sparkling with interest.


    Ignoring her question, Angelo pressed Red mentally. "Focus up. We''ve got that dinner later - need to wrap this up quick."


    "Yeah, yeah, I hear ya." Red''s satisfaction dripped through their link as he squeezed into the archives, materializing before a computer terminal. "Two, two, four, four," he input the password with obvious disdain. "Security''s really gone downhill. Uh, now what? Just got some weird database thing."


    Angelo relayed the situation to Neiva. "Red''s in. Computer''s unlocked, but we''re looking at some kind of database program."


    "Your intel-gathering potential is incredible!" Neiva''s eyes lit up with dangerous enthusiasm. "Have you ever considered espionage as a career path?"


    "An intriguing observation," Blue materialized beside them, causing Neiva to jump with a startled squeak.


    "Parents first, career changes later," Angelo cut in dryly. "Neiva, what''s Red looking for here?"


    Slipping into what she clearly imagined was a spy-movie operator mode, Neiva straightened. "Right! That guy hinted at potential project commission data. We should start by establishing a timeline - sometime before their..." she faltered, then continued more gently, "When did your parents move to Ashford?"


    Frustration darkened Angelo''s features. "I know pathetically little about them. Just their names, really..."


    "What were their names?" Neiva asked softly.


    Angelo paused, then shrugged. No reason to hide it. "Cyrus and Nova Ashworth."


    The way Neiva''s expression shifted made his stomach drop. "What?"


    "Angelo..." Her voice carried gentle concern. "Those names... they''re Infernian."


    "That''s impossible," Angelo protested. "Ashworth - they were from Ashford, that''s all."


    Blue stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps that was precisely the point - choosing Ashford to make the name seem natural, hiding their Infernian origins in plain sight."


    "Can we focus?" Angelo''s voice carried an edge of desperation. "This has nothing to do with what we''re looking for."


    "Consider the implications," Blue pressed. "If they were Infernian agents, Luminian intelligence might have-"


    "Seriously?" Angelo cut him off. "You''re letting Neiva''s spy fantasies get to you. What kind of Infernian agents bring their baby on an infiltration mission?"


    "Hmm." Blue''s tone remained measured. "Perhaps that theory was... overzealous. Though not entirely impossible."


    "So I''m just supposed to stare at this monitor while you all have story time?" Red''s voice crackled with irritation. "Because I can think of way more entertaining uses for my time. That break room''s practically begging for more chaos."


    "Focus, Red," Angelo snapped back to the task at hand. "Neiva, the database?"


    "Right, sorry!" Neiva straightened, slipping back into mission mode. "We can''t pinpoint when the lab was built, but we can search projects by time and location."


    "He can hear you directly," Angelo noted. "Red?"


    "Yeah, yeah, I got it." Mouse clicks echoed through their shared consciousness. "Got filters for location... and date range... Bingo."


    "Found it," Angelo relayed to Neiva.


    "Perfect! Let''s search Ashford projects from before eighteen years ago."


    Red input the parameters, his usual manic energy temporarily contained by focus. "Well, well... Not exactly slim pickings, but not overwhelming either."


    Angelo scanned the results through Red''s eyes. While there was no direct mention of their parents'' lab, something else caught his attention. "Here," his voice dropped to a whisper that made Neiva lean in closer. "Project comment about labs in Ashford''s school. Commissioned to a local resident."


    "A lead!" Neiva could barely contain herself. "We have to interview them in person!"


    "Oh ho ho!" Red''s essence practically vibrated with dark glee. "No wiggling out of this one, Angie! Maybe we''ll even run into our old pal Harry. Bet that arrogant prick hasn''t evolved ¨C perfect chance for some payback!"


    The name hit Angelo like a physical blow, memories of past defeats rising unbidden. After a long moment, he exhaled slowly. "Fine. We''re going to Ashford."


    "And I''m coming too, right?" Neiva attempted puppy-dog eyes that wouldn''t have fooled a blind man.


    "Yeah," Angelo''s dry tone couldn''t quite hide his amusement. "You''ve earned it."


    "I''m in the team! I''m in the team!" Neiva broke into an impromptu victory dance that drew a rare chuckle from Blue.


    "We need to go," Angelo cut in. "But pack camping gear. Ashford isn''t exactly a tourist hotspot ¨C no inns or motels."


    "Wait, what?" Neiva''s celebration screeched to a halt. "Where would we sleep?"


    "The woods, obviously. Why do you think they call it Ashford?" His attempt at reassurance fell somewhat flat. "Look, it''s almost winter, so bears aren''t an issue. Besides, Red and Blue never sleep. They''ll keep watch."


    "O...kay..." Neiva''s enthusiasm dimmed several watts.


    Blue offered a formal farewell before dissolving back into Angelo. As they turned toward Miriam''s house, their minds raced with new possibilities ¨C and old fears. The sun had finally set, painting Novaria''s sky in deep purples and blues. But for Angelo, the darkness ahead felt different now. Something was waiting in Ashford ¨C answers about his parents, a confrontation with his past, and perhaps the truth about his own identity.


    The evening air carried a hint of wood smoke, reminding him of the town whose very name now raised so many questions. Ashford. Once it had been just another Luminian town with a dark history. Now it felt like the key to everything ¨C his parents'' secrets, their Infernian heritage, and the mysteries that had shaped his entire existence.


    As they soared through the darkening sky toward Miriam''s house, Angelo couldn''t shake the feeling that they were crossing a point of no return. The truth about his parents ¨C and himself ¨C waited in Ashford. The only question was: would he be ready for what they found there?


    Red''s voice, unusually subdued, echoed through their shared consciousness: "Hey, whatever we find there, we face it together, yeah?"


    "Indeed," Blue added solemnly. "As we always have."


    Angelo said nothing, but his silence carried its own answer as they flew through the gathering night, toward dinner with the mother who had forgiven him, and beyond that ¨C to the town that held the secrets of the parents he had never truly known.

 28. Family Ties

    The dining room of the Dealer residence spoke volumes about the family that had once filled it with life and laughter. A mahogany table dominated the space, its polished surface reflecting the warm glow of an overhead chandelier that cast intimate pools of light across place settings meant for four but now arranged for just two. Family photos lined the walls, their frozen smiles watching over mother and guest like silent guardians of happier times. The autumn wind whispered against the windows, carrying with it the faint sounds of festival preparations from the city beyond.


    Angelo sat rigidly in his chair, his untouched plate a stark testament to his discomfort. The aroma of home-cooked comfort food - roasted chicken, herb-infused potatoes, fresh vegetables - only seemed to heighten the surreal nature of the moment. His police uniform felt suddenly constrictive, as if even his professional armor couldn''t shield him from the raw intimacy of this maternal concern.


    "The food''s getting cold," Miriam observed softly, her voice carrying the gentle authority that only mothers seem to master. Worry lines creased her forehead as she studied his untouched plate. The past week''s grief had etched new shadows beneath her eyes, but couldn''t dim the innate warmth in her gaze.


    Angelo released a breath he hadn''t realized he''d been holding. "I just..." he began, fingers tracing invisible patterns on the tablecloth. "This feels wrong, somehow. When we first met, you had every right to blame me for putting Bill in danger. Now you''re treating me like..." The words stuck in his throat, too laden with meaning to escape.


    Understanding softened Miriam''s features. "You never knew your mother, did you?" The question hung in the air between them, gentle but penetrating.


    Angelo''s head dipped lower, his response a barely perceptible shake. The chandelier''s light caught the tension in his shoulders, casting shadows that seemed to emphasize his isolation.


    "That''s what mothers do," Miriam explained, her voice carrying years of maternal wisdom. "We rage against anything that threatens our children - it''s instinct, pure and simple. But we also recognize pain when we see it, especially in those our children cared about."


    "I understand," Angelo managed, though his voice suggested otherwise.


    Miriam leaned forward slightly, attempting to bridge the emotional distance. "You know, Bill couldn''t stop talking about that incident in town square - the Infernian attack. He was so proud of your squad''s response." A ghost of a smile touched her lips. "The news coverage was impressive too. Are you the squad leader?"


    Confusion flickered across Angelo''s features. "My... squad?" The words tasted foreign on his tongue.


    "Oh yes," Miriam''s eyes lit with remembered enthusiasm. "The way he described your team''s coordination - he made it sound almost supernatural."


    "I believe she''s referring to us," Blue''s measured tones resonated through their shared consciousness. "Bill likely simplified our nature to avoid complicated explanations."


    "The kid was fanboying about us even to his mother?" Red''s mental voice carried equal parts exasperation and hidden pride.


    Angelo''s internal conflict played across his face as he struggled with the weight of truth versus comfort. "It''s... complicated," he managed, fingers drumming nervously against the table''s edge.


    "Shall I assist with the explanation?" Blue offered internally.


    "She''ll panic!" Angelo''s mental response crackled with anxiety.


    "Then prepare her properly," Blue countered with philosophical patience. "Or would you prefer to handle this yourself?"


    Angelo''s muttered acquiescence drew a questioning look from Miriam. He straightened, gathering his courage like a shield. "What I''m about to tell you... it''s going to sound impossible."


    A gentle laugh escaped her. "Oh, sweetheart, at my age-"


    "I''m literally split into three people," Angelo interrupted, the words tumbling out with the grace of a toppling bookshelf.


    Miriam''s fork paused halfway to her mouth. "I''m sorry?"


    "The squad Bill mentioned - they''re all me. Different aspects of me." Angelo''s attempt at clarification only seemed to deepen her confusion.


    "You mean like brothers? Triplets?" Hope brightened her features. "I would have set places for them too!"


    "Not exactly." Angelo shifted uncomfortably. "Imagine taking one person and splitting them into three identical copies, each with their own personality but sharing the same consciousness."


    Comprehension struggled across Miriam''s face. "I''m not quite sure I follow..."


    "Would it help if..." Angelo hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "If I showed you?"


    Understanding dawned in her eyes. "You can make this happen? Right now?"


    At Angelo''s nod, azure smoke began to pour from his form like morning mist from a still lake. It coalesced in the chair beside him, taking shape with elegant precision until another Angelo sat there - this one slightly grayer, his posture carrying scholarly dignity.


    "Mrs. Dealer," Blue''s cultured tones carried gentle formality. "I''m honored to properly make your acquaintance. I am Blue, and I must apologize for any alarm my appearance may cause. Angelo was supposed to prepare you more thoroughly, though his explanation skills leave much to be desired." His pointed glance at Angelo drew an exasperated gesture in response.


    Miriam''s hands clasped together on the dining table as she processed what she''d witnessed, the chandelier light casting gentle shadows across her weathered features. Her gaze darted between Angelo and Blue like someone trying to solve a particularly complex puzzle. "So what Angelo told me is true? But what exactly are you?" The question carried no fear, only genuine curiosity tinged with maternal concern.


    Blue settled into his chair with scholarly grace, his posture reminiscent of a professor about to deliver a fascinating lecture. "That very question plagued us for years, Mrs. Dealer," he began, folding his arms thoughtfully as his eyes closed in contemplation. "However, Professor Albert Goldstein''s recent research has illuminated much about our unique condition."


    As Blue explained their nature in carefully chosen terms, the tension gradually melted from Miriam''s shoulders. The distant chime of festival bells filtered through the windows, providing a surreal soundtrack to this impossible conversation. Family photos watched from their perches on the walls as another version of her guest explained concepts that seemed to belong more in science fiction than her dining room.


    "Well," Miriam said finally, her smile carrying the warmth of acceptance, "I may not grasp all the scientific details, but I know a good heart when I see one - or three, in this case." Her words drew a gentle smile from Blue, his usually stoic features softening. "Though, didn''t you mention a third? Where is he?"


    "Red?" Angelo called out, his voice carrying expectation that quickly turned to confusion when nothing happened. "Red, come on out."


    "I''m fine where I am, thanks," Red''s mental voice carried none of its usual swagger or bite.


    Angelo''s brow furrowed in frustration. "What do you mean ''fine''? She wants to meet you!" His outburst drew a questioning look from Miriam, who was witnessing only half the conversation.


    "Is something wrong?" she asked, maternal instinct detecting the underlying tension.


    Angelo ran a hand through his hair, bewilderment evident in his features. "This isn''t like him at all. Usually we can''t stop him from materializing and causing chaos."


    "Can he hear me?" Miriam asked, her voice taking on the gentle tone mothers reserve for coaxing reluctant children.


    "Indeed," Blue confirmed, his scholarly demeanor softening slightly. "We share all sensory experiences."


    Miriam straightened slightly, addressing the apparently empty air with surprising naturalness. "Would you come out, dear? I''d very much like to meet you properly."


    A moment passed where only the tick of the grandfather clock marked time. Then, like blood in water, crimson smoke began to curl through the air. Red materialized in the remaining chair, his usual predatory confidence nowhere to be seen. "H-Hi..." he managed, his gaze fixed firmly on the tablecloth. "I''m Red."


    The transformation in Angelo and Blue was immediate and dramatic. Their jaws went slack, eyes widening in perfect synchronization as they stared at their normally boisterous counterpart. Through their shared vision, Red could see his own uncharacteristically meek posture, which only served to heighten his discomfort.


    "What are you staring at?!" he burst out, but the words carried more embarrassment than anger, like a cat trying to maintain dignity after a graceless fall.


    "It''s lovely to meet you, Red," Miriam''s voice carried such genuine warmth that Red''s eyes finally lifted to meet hers. Something passed between them in that moment - an understanding that seemed to lift a visible weight from his shoulders.


    Miriam glanced at her other guests'' dumbfounded expressions with barely concealed amusement. "Is something wrong?"


    "Wrong?" Angelo''s voice cracked with disbelief. "This is Red we''re talking about - chaos incarnate! How did you manage to... to..."


    "The psychological implications are fascinating!" Blue''s analytical mind was already racing ahead. "Perhaps maternal presence triggers some form of-"


    "Oh, shut it, both of you!" Red finally exploded, though something vulnerable lingered beneath his outburst. "If you could feel what she''s feeling right now, you wouldn''t be laughing!"


    The room plunged into sudden silence, interrupted only by the soft gasp that escaped Miriam''s lips. The chandelier light seemed to dim, as if even it sensed the gravity of Red''s accidental revelation. The weight of unspoken grief and understanding hung in the air between them, more tangible than any of their manifestations could ever be.


    Angelo''s discomfort radiated like physical heat as he stumbled over his apology. "Mrs. Dealer, I''m so sorry, we were completely out of line..." The chandelier light caught the flush of shame on his face, making the moment feel somehow more exposed.Stolen novel; please report.


    Miriam waved off his concern with a gentle gesture that seemed to encompass all three versions of her guest. "Please, don''t apologize." Her fingers traced the edge of her water glass, gathering thoughts like precious stones. "Red sees clearly, doesn''t he? But you know what I''ve learned about grief?" The question hung in the air like autumn leaves before a fall. "The truest way to honor those we''ve lost is to keep living - really living. Not just existing in the shadow of their sacrifice."


    Her gaze drifted to the family photos on the wall, where her husband and son''s smiles seemed to affirm her words. "My husband, and Bill - they gave their lives to make others'' better, safer. That wasn''t spite or carelessness. It was love, pure and simple." Tears gathered in her eyes but didn''t fall, like rain caught in sunlight. "They''d want joy for us, not endless sorrow. Their memory should lift us up, not drag us into darkness."


    "Profound wisdom," Blue murmured, his scholarly demeanor softened by genuine respect.


    "You three," Miriam''s voice carried warmth that seemed to fill the room like golden light, "you''ve given this grieving mother something precious - a moment of brightness in the dark." Her gratitude made them shift in their chairs, unused to such naked emotion.


    The atmosphere lightened perceptibly after that, like clouds parting after rain. Conversation flowed as naturally as wine into glasses, ranging from police work to festival preparations. Even Red contributed, his uncharacteristically polite responses making Angelo do double-takes that drew knowing smiles from Miriam. The empty plates before them told their own story of comfort found in shared meals and open hearts.


    "This evening has been..." Miriam''s voice carried the satisfaction of someone who had accomplished something important but subtle.


    "Your culinary expertise is remarkable, Mrs. Dealer," Blue offered with formal grace.


    Confusion flickered across her features. "But you haven''t eaten anything - you said you couldn''t..."


    "Ah, but remember our shared experiences," Blue explained, a hint of pleasure in his scholarly tone. "We experienced every delicious bite through Angelo. Red was particularly enthusiastic about the seasoning."


    "Oh!" Understanding brightened her face. "Well then, I''m delighted you all enjoyed it." Her expression shifted to something more hopeful as she began gathering dishes. "You''ll stay the night, won''t you? I couldn''t bear to send you out so late."


    Before anyone could respond, Red''s crimson aura flared to life like a sudden sunrise. "Allow me," he said, smoky energy tendrils materializing with surprising grace to collect the plates. They wove through the air like sparkly mist, carrying dishes to the sink with delicate precision.


    Angelo watched with undisguised admiration. "That''s some control you''ve got there - managing all those tendrils at once." The ghost of a smile that touched Red''s features seemed somehow more genuine than any of his usual grins.


    "Well?" Miriam''s gentle prompting carried hope barely contained. "Shall I prepare the guest room?"


    "Say yes," Red''s mental voice carried unusual softness. "You can feel how much this means to her."


    "I... that is... um..." Angelo floundered like a fish in air.


    "He would be honored to stay," Blue intercepted smoothly, ignoring Angelo''s internal protests about overriding his autonomy.


    "This isn''t about your comfort," Blue''s mental response carried gentle rebuke. "Consider what she needs."


    Later, moonlight painted the guest room in shades of midnight blue, casting long shadows across walls that had probably once echoed with Bill''s laughter. Angelo lay still, absorbing the unfamiliar sensations of being part of a real home. The orphanage had provided shelter, yes, but this - this felt different. The house seemed alive with memories and possibility, each creak and settling sound speaking of lives lived fully, of love given freely.


    Through their shared consciousness, he sensed Red''s unusual calm and Blue''s quiet satisfaction. The night air carried the distant sounds of festival preparations through the slightly open window, mixing with the gentle tick of a hallway clock and the soft whisper of curtains in the breeze. It felt, Angelo realized with a start, like belonging.


    Family photos watched over his rest like benevolent guardians, their faces holding secrets about what it meant to be truly connected. As sleep began to claim him, Angelo wondered if this was what coming home really felt like - not just a place to stay, but somewhere your heart recognized, even if it had never been there before.


    Morning sunlight spilled through Novaria''s streets like liquid gold, catching the dew on freshly hung festival decorations. The Dealer residence stood warm and inviting behind Angelo as he stepped onto the front path, a carefully packed lunch held in his grip - the weight of maternal care made tangible.


    "Don''t be a stranger!" Miriam called from the doorway, her silhouette framed by the morning light. The scent of coffee and breakfast still lingered in the air around her. "And remember, there''s always a bed here for you." The offer carried the weight of hope barely contained.


    Angelo turned back, his expression softer than usual. "Thank you for everything," he said, genuine warmth coloring his voice. "It really was wonderful." His aura ignited with practiced ease, the evolution process sending ripples through the morning air like heat waves off summer pavement. Orange energy coalesced around him in patterns that resembled living flame, each tendril casting dancing shadows across the dewy grass.


    "Time to inform the chief about our little vacation," Angelo thought as he soared between buildings, festival preparations visible in every direction below.


    "Finally got the guts to face Harry, eh Angie?" Red''s mental voice carried its familiar mischievous edge, his usual personality seemingly restored by a good night''s rest.


    "Ah, there''s the Red we know and... well," Angelo let the thought trail off meaningfully.


    "Real comedian you are," Red shot back with theatrical dryness.


    The precinct loomed ahead, its stone facade catching the morning light at angles that made it look more imposing than usual. Chief Ramirez''s familiar figure approached the entrance, steam rising from his ever-present coffee cup like signals in the crisp autumn air. Angelo adjusted his trajectory, touching down with practiced grace beside his superior.


    "Good morning, sir," Angelo offered, falling into step with the casual formality that marked their professional relationship.


    Ramirez studied him over the rim of his coffee cup. "You''re early today, son." His experienced eyes noted something different in his officer''s bearing. "And looking considerably less brooding than usual."


    "Am I?" Angelo''s response carried genuine surprise as they entered the building together. "I see Joe hasn''t attracted his usual crowd of admirers yet."


    "I believe you''ve misunderstood his role here," Ramirez corrected, coffee steam curling around his words. "The Triple A arrangement means he''s not actually an officer - more like a contracted specialist. We''ve brought in several Advanced Aurons specifically for the festival."


    Both men''s expressions darkened at the mention of the celebration, like clouds passing before the sun. "Something troubling you, son?" Ramirez inquired, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.


    "Just... not particularly enthusiastic about the festival," Angelo admitted, his words carrying the weight of memory.


    "Makes two of us," Ramirez sighed, age showing in the lines around his eyes. "Sometimes I wonder if the economic boost is worth the security nightmare."


    Their shared moment of understanding carried them to the chief''s office door. Ramirez paused, finally registering Angelo''s continued presence. "Did you need something?"


    "Yes, sir," Angelo shifted his weight slightly. "I need to request a few days'' leave. Personal matter."


    Ramirez''s brow furrowed as he settled behind his desk. "That might be complicated, given your recent absence..." Angelo''s heart sank, but the chief continued, "However, with our evolved reinforcements in place, we should manage. One less Evolved Auron won''t compromise festival security."


    "This means missing the festival entirely," Blue''s analytical observation cut through their shared consciousness.


    "That''s a bonus, not a drawback!" Angelo''s internal response carried genuine relief. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate it."


    "One more thing," Ramirez''s voice halted Angelo''s retreat. "Night shift today - and I mean actual station duty. No heroics. If anything comes up, we''ll deploy one of the Advanced Aurons."


    "Understood," Angelo managed, though the words tasted like defeat. Through the office windows, festival banners fluttered in the morning breeze, their cheerful colors seeming to mock his temporary confinement to desk duty.


    The precinct buzzed with morning activity around them, officers moving with the practiced efficiency of a well-oiled machine. But something in the air felt charged, as if the upcoming festival cast an invisible tension over everything - a sentiment that both chief and evolved officer seemed to share.


    Night settled over the precinct like a heavy blanket, streetlights casting long shadows through half-empty offices. The skeleton crew''s quiet murmurs echoed through corridors that felt too large without their usual daytime bustle. Angelo sat at his desk, the computer''s harsh glow highlighting his features as he tried to focus on paperwork rather than the whispered conversations around him.


    Blue''s materialized form moved with mechanical precision, organizing files with scholarly dedication. Their shared hearing caught fragments of officer chatter:


    <blockquote>


    "Must be nice," one whispered, casting envious glances at Blue''s efficient paper sorting. "Having a copy of yourself to handle the grunt work."


    </blockquote>


    Angelo''s jaw tightened, but he kept his eyes fixed on his screen, refusing to acknowledge the commentary. Meanwhile, Red''s crimson essence drifted through the station''s darkened halls like blood in water, seeking entertainment in the hollow building.


    "This is what I''ve been reduced to," Red''s mental voice dripped with theatrical suffering as he explored. "Me, a being of pure chaos, reduced to floating through empty-" His internal monologue cut off abruptly as he noticed something odd - the archive room''s door stood ajar, spilling a thin line of light across the darkened floor like a crack in reality.


    Red''s essence slipped through the opening, and what he found would have made his physical form grin with predatory delight. A figure dressed entirely in black moved with practiced efficiency through the filing system, their movements suggesting both purpose and familiarity.


    Angelo and Blue launched from their chairs in perfect synchronization, their sudden movement drawing startled looks from the few remaining officers. "Red, hold position," Angelo commanded as they sprinted toward the archives. "We need to assess-"


    "Shouldn''t we alert the others?" Blue''s analytical mind raced ahead even as they ran.


    "They''re not Auron division, we can''t risk-" Angelo''s thought cut off as his feet caught something solid. The trip wire sang as it snapped taut, sending him sprawling across the polished floor.


    Red''s laughter exploded through their shared consciousness just as their target burst into motion, silver aura igniting like starlight as he fled.


    "Red, WHAT ARE YOU DOING? After him!" Angelo''s mental roar carried fury as he scrambled up, his evolved aura exploding outward with enough force to rattle nearby windows.


    Their pursuit carried them across rooftops and through alleyways, festival decorations blurring past as three evolved auras - orange, azure, and crimson - hunted their silver prey. Festival decorations blurred past as they bounded between buildings, forged energy tendrils leaving trails of light in their wake. Angelo''s evolved capabilities gave him the edge in urban traversal, and soon they had their quarry cornered in an alley. Their energy constructs rose like predatory serpents, Red''s tendrils slashing through the air with particular menace.


    Their quarry''s face remained hidden behind a tactical bandana, only his eyes visible as he assessed his situation. "Perhaps we could discuss this civilly?" he ventured, his tone carrying unusual composure for someone surrounded by three evolved Aurons.


    The suggestion made Angelo hesitate - exactly as planned. In the space between heartbeats, the silver Auron unleashed a devastating combination. Three different attacks manifested simultaneously: silver flames roared toward Angelo, lightning crackled at Blue, and pure energy screamed toward Red. As they defended and dodged, their target bolted.


    "Darkness Auron..." Angelo''s recognition carried grim understanding. "Energetic Fissure!" The ground beneath them came alive as forged energy tendrils erupted in orange geysers, blocking their target''s escape. Red and Blue struck in perfect coordination, and moments later, Red''s energy constructs had their prey thoroughly restrained, one tendril coiled around his throat like a crimson serpent.


    His silver eyes met Red''s crimson, hungry and bloodthirsty eyes.


    "''If staring death in the face doesn''t change a man... nothing will,''" Angelo''s signature ultimatum carried the weight of countless encounters. "Surrender and find redemption, or resist and face judgment."


    Their captive''s groan carried surprising resignation. "Of course it would be the Angel of Death. Just my luck." Something in his tone set him apart from common criminals, catching Angelo''s attention.


    "I know how this looks, but I''m not what you think. We should talk."


    "Talk is for the weak!" Red snarled, his tendrils tightening until their captive wheezed.


    "Red, enough!" Angelo''s command cut through the night. "Who are you? What were you searching for?"


    "Interesting that you don''t ask how I knew where to look," their prisoner''s words made Blue''s analytical mind race with implications. "Those archives aren''t exactly public knowledge."


    "Answer the question." Angelo''s voice promised consequences for evasion.


    "Very well," the silver Auron''s aura died like a snuffed candle. "But first, have your friend release me. See? No resistance."


    After a silent exchange of glances and nods between Angelo and Blue, the command came: "Red, let him go."


    "You''re killing my fun here," Red growled, but his tendrils unwound with reluctant grace.


    The man reached up and pulled away his mask, revealing features that seemed to catch the festival lights from nearby streets. Young, handsome, with silver-white spiky hair - he could have been Angelo''s age.


    "I''m Solomon Thron - Sol if you prefer. And I''m the son of David Thron."

 29. Sympathy & Empathy

    "Who the hell is David Thron?" Angelo asked, no recollection of the name whatsoever.


    "He was a brilliant private detective here in Novaira, solved quite troublesome cases before... before he mysteriously disappeared 10 years ago..." The pain in Sol''s voice was tangible.


    "What happened to him?" Red asked


    "He just told you he mysteriously disappeared, Red. Do you know what mysteriously means?" Blue shot at Red with cutting sarcasm.


    "You want a piece of me? Huh?!" Red spat.


    "Enough," Angelo shot at the two before addressing Sol "I''m very sorry to hear and all, but what does that have to do with you breaking into the archives?"


    "To truly understand we have to go 10 years back..." Sol said closing his eyes, recalling that fateful day.


    <hr>


    [10 Years Ago]


    The morning light filtering through their front windows did nothing to soften the scene unfolding in Sol''s childhood home. He stood frozen behind his mother, watching her world collapse as she fell to her knees before the police officer at their door. Her hand flew to her mouth, trying to contain sobs that seemed to shake her entire frame. The officer''s grim expression and formally pressed uniform felt like an invasion in their normally peaceful entryway.


    The words around Sol blurred into meaningless sound, as if he were underwater, until his mother''s voice cut through with devastating clarity: "But how?! Where could he have gone?! Who could have done this?!" Her desperate questions echoed off the walls, transforming their home into something alien and wrong.


    The officer shifted his weight, discomfort evident in every carefully controlled movement. "I''m sorry, ma''am, but at present we don''t have answers to these questions," he explained, his practiced gentle tone somehow making everything worse. "All contact with David was lost this morning, and we''ve been unable to track his movements. I need to be clear - while we don''t typically make this announcement so quickly, he''s been declared MIA."


    Something twisted in Sol''s gut, an instinct screaming that this wasn''t right. He fled to his room, unable to bear another moment of this shattered reality. But that night, driven by the same instinct that had been gnawing at him all day, he found himself creeping into his father''s study.


    The room still carried his father''s presence - case files meticulously organized, the lingering scent of his favorite coffee, even the way moonlight caught the edges of his desk exactly as it always had. Sol knew exactly what he was looking for - the forbidden file, the one his father had specifically warned him never to touch. He''d always respected that boundary, but tonight... tonight was different. The file''s location was no mystery; he''d caught glimpses of his father accessing it often enough. What he found inside, however, changed everything.


    <hr>


    In the present, festival lights still painted the alley in warm colors that seemed at odds with Sol''s dark recollection. Angelo leaned forward, completely caught up in the story. "What... what did you find?"


    "Nothing." Sol''s response fell between them like a stone in still water.


    Red''s materialized form practically vibrated with frustrated anticipation. "Are you kidding me? All that build-up for nothing?!"


    "No, you don''t understand," Sol''s voice carried the weight of old revelations. "The nothing was everything. The file I''d seen my father handle so many times - it had been twice as thick. Half its contents had vanished, as if they''d never existed." His blue eyes hardened with conviction. "That''s when I realized the truth. The police knew. They knew my father was hunting someone dangerous enough to make him disappear. That''s why they declared him MIA so quickly. They knew he''d been silenced... and they were too terrified to do anything about it."


    The bitter accusation hung in the air between them as Sol continued, his voice growing stronger. "Months passed before I found anything else - just a single misplaced memo. But that memo mentioned something called GHOST." His silver aura flickered to life, casting ethereal shadows across his determined features. "Right then, I made my choice. I would train, study, investigate - whatever it took to uncover the truth about GHOST and what happened to my father. And if revenge presented itself along the way..." His voice trailed off meaningfully.


    The words struck a chord in Angelo and Red, resonating with their own history of loss and pursuit of justice. The festival preparations continuing in the distance seemed surreal against such dark revelations.


    Blue finally chimed in, his scholarly curiosity evident. "What did your investigation uncover?"


    "Not much beyond dark web whispers," Sol admitted, running a hand through his silver-white hair. "But the pattern is clear - GHOST appears to be an organization of elite professionals. They handle everything from theft to intelligence gathering... to assassination." His voice dropped lower. "Their trademark? Perfection. No evidence, no witnesses, no leads. They might as well be actual ghosts."


    "Sounds like classic conspiracy theory material to me," Red scoffed, though his usual bravado seemed forced.


    "The perfect crime does make for an impossible investigation," Blue observed analytically.


    "Exactly - like chasing shadows," Sol agreed grimly.


    Angelo''s mind raced as pieces began falling into place. "No evidence..." he muttered, the words carrying terrible possibility.


    Blue''s azure form stiffened with sudden understanding. "You don''t think...?"


    Sol looked between them, confusion evident. "What is it?"


    "My parents were murdered eighteen years ago," Angelo explained, his voice tight with controlled emotion. "The report confirmed foul play but found nothing - no evidence, no leads, nothing to point to any specific person or group."


    "Wait, are you suggesting-" Sol began, his silver eyes widening.


    "GHOST could be behind both cases," Blue finished, his scholarly tone unable to hide his growing certainty.


    "Oh come on," Red''s crimson essence swirled with agitation. "You''re really buying into this? Based on some dark web ghost stories?"


    "Your skepticism is noted," Sol countered, "but there''s more. My father''s other case files - the ones not in that main folder - they tell a story when pieced together. He scattered them deliberately, knowing they seemed innocuous individually. But together..."


    "What do you mean?" Angelo pressed, his evolved aura pulsing with intensity.


    "Every case shared the same void - no evidence, no witnesses, nothing but open questions. And here''s the crucial detail - there were always at least two cases per location, spread across multiple cities. Not just in Novaria." Sol''s voice carried the weight of absolute conviction. "Put it all together, and the pattern becomes clear. GHOST''s signature is the complete absence of signatures. The lack of evidence becomes the evidence itself."


    Sol''s silver eyes caught the festival lights as he paused, choosing his next words carefully. "I''d planned to wait until after the New Light Festival, but today felt different. Something told me I was ready..."


    <hr>


    [Earlier Today]


    Afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows of Sol''s apartment, painting long shadows across a table where he stood, shoulder bag packed and ready. His fingers traced the edges of an envelope with unusual tenderness, while his gaze drifted to a family photo on the wall. The image captured a moment frozen in amber - three smiling faces without a hint of the tragedy that would soon tear their world apart. His father''s proud stance, his mother''s gentle smile, and his own younger self, eyes bright with innocence long since lost.


    "Sorry, mom," he whispered, placing the envelope beside his phone with deliberate care. The gesture carried the weight of a choice that couldn''t be unmade.


    Hours later, Sol crouched in a small tent hidden within the park nearest to the police station. The canvas walls rustled softly in the autumn breeze as he studied his hand-drawn map - created from memories of following his father through those halls years ago. Though the details had faded with time, the archive room''s location remained etched in his mind. Beside him lay two carefully crafted trip wires, insurance against surprise visitors. One wrong move by any pursuer would give him the precious seconds needed for escape.


    <hr>


    Back in the present, understanding dawned in Angelo''s eyes. "So that''s what happened with the trip wire earlier."


    "But why target the archives specifically?" Blue asked, his scholarly curiosity evident. "Were you expecting to find explicit mentions of GHOST in police reports?"


    Sol adjusted his tactical mask, which now hung loose around his neck. "Something like that. It was a long shot, I know, but it seemed like the logical first step."This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    "And what''s step two?" Red''s crimson form practically vibrated with morbid interest.


    "Still working on that part," Sol admitted with a weak smile that made Red''s predatory grin widen. "But considering we''re both might be hunting GHOST, our goals clearly align."


    Angelo''s orange aura flickered with surprise. "Are you suggesting we work together?"


    "I must advise caution," Blue interjected, his azure form radiating disapproval. "His methods are ethically questionable at best."


    "Like I''m one to judge," Angelo countered, making Sol''s eyebrows rise. "I literally just had Red doing something similar in those corporate archives."


    "Yeah, and not to mention we found out about our parents murder when I snooped around the police''s archives back then," Red added with obvious satisfaction.


    Blue''s sigh could have frozen helium. "I sometimes forget who I''m dealing with."


    "So what do you say?" Sol''s silver eyes reflected determination as festival lights danced overhead. "Two heads are better than one... or in your case, four." The last comment drew a snort from Red.


    "I''ll need time to think it over," Angelo replied, his tone carrying careful consideration.


    "No pressure." Sol pulled out his phone, quickly sharing his contact information. His silver aura faded like morning mist as he turned to leave. "You know how to reach me when you''ve decided." He offered a casual wave that somehow carried the weight of shared purpose, then vanished into the festival-decorated streets of Novaria.


    The trio watched him disappear, their minds churning with possibilities. The distant sounds of celebration preparations seemed to mock the gravity of their situation - while the city prepared for festivities, they stood on the brink of uncovering a conspiracy that stretched back decades. The implications of Sol''s offer hung in the air between them like smoke, refusing to dissipate even as festival lanterns cast their cheerful glow across the empty alley.


    Morning light filtered through Neiva''s bedroom window, catching dust motes that danced in the air as Red rummaged through her belongings with characteristic restlessness. The room reflected its owner''s investigative nature - cork boards, psychology textbooks inherited from her mother scattered across shelves, and the lingering scent of coffee from an oversized mug on her desk. As Angelo finished recounting the previous night''s encounter, Neiva''s eyes lit up with unexpected amusement.


    "Man, that guy''s good!" Her enthusiasm drew blank stares from all three versions of her mentor.


    Blue materialized more fully, his scholarly demeanor carrying well-practiced patience. "Could you elaborate on that assessment?"


    "You guys really don''t know much about psychology, do you?" Neiva''s voice carried the particular excitement of someone about to share specialized knowledge.


    Red paused his exploration of her bookshelf to scoff. "Oh, and I suppose you''re a masterclass expert?"


    A shadow passed across Neiva''s features. "Not really. My mom was though. She used to share insights about the field constantly - she was so passionate about it..." Her voice softened with memory before she visibly pulled herself together. "But that''s not the point. Your mysterious friend pulled a classic psychological maneuver on you."


    Angelo shot to his feet, his eyes glowing orange with sudden tension. "What are you talking about? What maneuver?"


    "Think about it," Neiva leaned forward, clearly warming to her subject. "He redirected your thought process from ''Should I arrest this guy?'' to ''Should I join forces with him?'' By presenting that alternative, he ensured both outcomes worked in his favor."


    "That manipulative son of a bitch!" Red''s crimson form practically vibrated with outrage. "Everything he said was probably fabricated!"


    "I disagree," Blue interjected, his analytical mind visibly processing the implications. "Sometimes the most effective deception is wrapped in absolute truth."


    Neiva shot Blue an appreciative glance that spoke of shared academic understanding.


    "Besides," Blue continued, fixing Red with a pointed stare, "haven''t you appointed yourself our resident lie detector lately? Well? Was Sol being truthful?"


    Red''s agitation visibly deflated as he dropped into a chair. "Tch. No, I couldn''t feel any lies. But that just proves how good he is at deception!"


    "Wait," Neiva''s breath caught as excitement bubbled in her chest. "What do you mean you couldn''t feel him lying?"


    "What''s got you so worked up?" Something about what Red just said sent shiver''s down her spine.


    Angelo started to intervene. "She isn''t getting worked up. She just asked a question, Red. You could at least-"


    "No, he''s right again!" Neiva cut in, her smile carrying such knowing satisfaction that it gave both Angelo and Blue pause.


    "Care to explain?" Blue inquired, his scholarly curiosity clearly piqued.


    "He correctly identified my emotional state!" she explained, while Angelo and Blue exchanged meaningful glances and Red looked away with obvious discomfort.


    "I''m not following the significance," Angelo admitted.


    "Blue mentioned Red being a lie detector ''lately'' - has he successfully identified other deceptions?" Her enthusiasm made her practically bounce in place.


    The memory of Jill''s perfect housewife facade hit all three of them like a physical blow. Angelo closed his eyes against the pain of remembered consequences. "Yes... we encountered the Grim Reaper. She presented herself as this innocent woman caught up in events beyond her control. Red insisted she was lying..." Bill''s final smile flashed through his mind, making him wince. "We paid dearly for ignoring his warnings."


    Blue attempted to redirect the conversation''s heavy turn. "Did you formulate a theory about Red''s good intuition, Neiva?"


    "I don''t think it''s just good intuition," her expression carried barely contained revelation as she suddenly called out: "Red!"


    He jumped, clearly uncomfortable with her focused attention. "What?"


    "What am I feeling right now?" she demanded. Angelo and Blue watched with growing fascination as Red''s expression shifted.


    "There''s... pressure in your chest... it''s rising... getting stronger- why are you-" Red''s description cut off as Neiva leaped up with an excited shriek that made them all flinch.


    "That''s exactly right! Don''t you understand what this means?"


    They stared at her, uncomprehending, until Blue finally asked, "Please, enlighten us."


    Neiva''s face split into a triumphant grin. "Red is an empath!"


    A long silence settled over Neiva''s bedroom as they processed her declaration. The morning light filtered softly through her window, illuminating psychology textbooks scattered across shelves and newspaper clippings pinned to cork boards.


    "What exactly is an empath?" Angelo finally asked.


    Neiva shifted forward eagerly. "You know how telepaths can read thoughts? An empath reads emotions - they can actually feel what others are feeling."


    "That seems impossible," Blue''s analytical nature taking over. "Red''s form is made of energy. We can only experience physical sensation through Angelo''s body."


    "Then that''s probably the key," Neiva''s eyes lit up with understanding. "Angelo''s body acts as the receiver, picking up emotional signals that Red''s consciousness interprets."


    "... The theory has merit," Blue conceded thoughtfully.


    "So what the hell does that mean for me?!" Red''s outburst carried unusual edge.


    "It means you have the ability to sense others'' emotional states," Neiva explained, though something in Red''s posture suggested this wasn''t helping.


    "What''s wrong?" she asked, looking between them for clarification.


    Red turned away in disgust. "Oh, this is just perfect. Blue gets to be the martial arts prodigy who can actually outfight Angelo, and what do I get? Feelings?" His laugh carried no humor. "Because this fractured existence wasn''t already enough of a cosmic joke!"


    The others exchanged concerned glances. "Well..." Neiva ventured carefully, "if it helps, this probably makes you better at manipulation than Sol."


    Red didn''t turn to face her, simply asked weakly. "How so?"


    "Think about it - with psychological techniques, you''d have a massive advantage. You''d know immediately if your approach was working because you''d feel their emotional response. You could adjust tactics on the fly based on direct emotional feedback."


    They could practically see the possibilities clicking into place as Red''s trademark wicked grin spread across his face. "Yes... oh yes, you''re absolutely right!"


    "Neiva!" Blue''s scholarly composure cracked with alarm. "Red creates enough chaos without adding psychological manipulation to his repertoire!"


    "Too late, blueberry," Red''s satisfaction dripped from every word as he rubbed his hands together with theatrical glee. "This particular cat is out of the bag."


    Angelo and Blue shot Neiva matching looks of exasperation, drawing a sheepish laugh as she scratched the back of her head. The morning sun caught the guilt in her expression, though it couldn''t quite hide her academic satisfaction at having solved the mystery of Red''s unique abilities.


    "Okay, enough about Red''s newfound talents," Neiva straightened, smoothing her hair. "We need to get ready for Ashford tomorrow..." Her voice trailed off as realization struck. "Oh no - the New Light Festival starts tomorrow! We''ll miss the whole thing!"


    "Yeah... tragic, isn''t it?" Angelo''s deadpan response couldn''t have been less convincing.


    "It actually kind of is," Neiva slumped forward, her brilliant red hair falling to hide her expression. "I haven''t experienced the parades since... since before everything happened."


    "Were you elsewhere during the festivities?" Blue inquired, his scholarly interest piqued.


    Red snorted from his perch on her desk. "Like it matters where she was? They shove this festival down everyone''s throat across Luminia."


    "No, nothing like that," Neiva''s voice carried a weight that made them all pause. "I just... couldn''t bring myself to celebrate anymore. But this year felt different. For the first time, I actually looked forward to it."


    "You know, you don''t have to come with us," Angelo offered carefully.


    "Absolutely not!" The force of her response made them all start. "How could I enjoy myself knowing you''re out there hunting for answers without me?" She looked away, clearly embarrassed by her outburst.


    "Well, well," Red''s predatory grin widened. "Neiva and Angelo sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-"


    Before he could finish, Angelo''s evolved energy shot through Red''s form, dissolving him into smoke. His sing-song voice continued in their shared consciousness: "-I-N-G! What''s wrong, Angie? Truth hurts?"


    Neiva''s horrified gasp cut through their internal exchange. "The floor!"


    They all stared at the hole Angelo''s forged energy had punched in the wooden boards. While it hadn''t pierced all the way through, the damage was impressive.


    "Damn it," Angelo muttered as his energy dissipated. "I swear I''ll pay for repairs..."


    "And here I thought Red was our impulsive one," Blue''s disapproval radiated like winter frost.


    "Don''t worry about it," Neiva said softly, though her eyes kept drifting to the damage.


    "Look," Angelo pinched the bridge of his nose. "Neiva, could you please explain to Red that you don''t view me in a romantic way?"


    "He''s right," she began carefully. "I don''t see you that way at all."


    "Finally," Angelo directed at Red. "Now maybe we can-"


    "But it''s more complicated than that," she continued, cutting him off. "I can''t imagine my life without you anymore. Does that make sense?" She studied her hands intently. "You gave me back something I thought I''d lost forever - hope."


    "I understand the sentiment," Blue''s scholarly detachment carried unexpected warmth. "But building your entire world around another person isn''t healthy. You need to find your own light."


    "I know that, logically," Neiva''s voice carried quiet determination. "But this is the first time in years I''ve felt... alive. Maybe by walking beside you for a while, I''ll remember how to walk on my own..." She quickly added, "If you''ll let me try."


    The silence stretched until Angelo broke it with an exaggerated stretch. "You know what? That''s definitely a conversation for another day. Right now, we''ve got more immediate problems." He gestured at the floor. "I''ll cover the repairs - after we get back from Ashford."


    A genuine smile touched her lips. "Deal."


    "Now then," Angelo clapped his hands together. "Let''s make sure we haven''t forgotten anything important. The last thing we need is to reach Ashford and realize we left something crucial behind."


    They settled into reviewing their preparations, the damaged floor temporarily forgotten. Somewhere in the city, Sol waited for their answer, adding another layer of complexity to their mission. But for now, they focused on getting ready for whatever answers - or new questions - Ashford might hold.

 30. Missing The New Light Festival!

    Morning sunlight crept through Angelo''s apartment curtains in thin golden stripes, one of which Red was gleefully redirecting straight into his sleeping original''s face using a dusty mirror he''d discovered in a drawer.


    "Red, this isn''t funny," Blue''s voice carried the particular strain of someone dealing with an unruly sibling. "You could actually damage his eyes." Through their shared senses, both duplicates could feel the irritating heat against their own eyelids.


    Red''s materialized form bounced on his heels like an excited child. "Aw come on, he needs to wake up anyway. We''ve got a train to catch!"


    "If you''re so concerned about the schedule," Blue''s words dripped with scholarly disapproval, "perhaps you could assist with preparations instead of tormenting him?"


    "What, and miss this entertainment?" Red''s grin widened as Angelo''s face twitched. "Besides, I''m doing him a favor. He should be thanking me for-"


    Angelo shot upright with a yelp that cut through Red''s gloating. His eyes snapped open, immediately finding his crimson duplicate. "RED! I swear I''ll kill you!"


    "We''ve been over this, Angie!" Red''s satisfaction practically radiated through their shared consciousness. "You want me dead that badly, just off yourself!"


    "Don''t tempt me," Angelo growled, rubbing his throbbing eyes. "Spending eternity with an idiot like you makes that option more appealing every day."


    "While I hesitate to interrupt this charming exchange," Blue materialized form interjected with freezing calm, "we do have preparations to complete." His materialized form gestured toward their packed bags with pointed significance.


    Angelo''s anger deflated with a heavy sigh. "Fine. I''m up." He reached for his phone, only for Blue to smoothly intercept it.


    "I''ll contact Neiva," Blue offered, already dialing. "Someone should ensure she''s preparing as well."


    Neiva''s voice carried the particular grogginess of someone still half-lost to dreams. "Hello... oh, good morning, Angelo."


    "Good morning, Neiva. This is actually Blue," he corrected gently. "I''m calling to verify your preparation status. Our train departs at noon."


    Red flopped onto the couch with dramatic flair, flipping through channels as Blue spoke quietly into the phone. The television droned with endless festival coverage, each station showcasing some aspect of Luminia''s upcoming celebration.


    "Every damn channel," Red complained, finally settling on a historical segment. The screen showed an enthusiastic historian gesturing at ancient maps.


    "...celebrating Luminia''s 104th birthday!" the historian declared with infectious energy. "Our ancestors fled Infernia during the hundred-year war, finding homes in Geovale, Maridian, and Zhypheria! When they finally returned to establish Luminia, they brought more than memories - they carried the customs of every nation that sheltered them. These traditions merged with their Infernian heritage, transforming into something entirely new and uniquely Luminian! Today we celebrate-"


    Red jabbed the power button with excessive force. "Booooring!" He twisted toward Blue with exaggerated innocence. "What, no lecture about my uncultured tastes?"


    "Your expectation of criticism says more about you than me," Blue replied without looking up from his methodical equipment check. "Besides, I find such simplified historical accounts equally tedious."


    By eleven, they stood at Angelo''s doorway, the massive backpack settling across his shoulders with crushing weight that made him grit his teeth. After one final glance around the apartment, he let out a frustrated sigh and reluctantly activated his evolved aura. Orange energy flickered to life around him, and suddenly the burden became bearable - though the fact he needed supernatural power just to carry luggage didn''t improve his mood.


    The familiar route to Neiva''s apartment played out like a half-remembered dream, his mind too preoccupied with their upcoming journey to really notice the surroundings.


    The sound of struggle reached him before he even rounded the final corner - determined grunts echoing down the stairwell that led to Neiva''s floor. He arrived to find her locked in an undignified battle with an absolutely enormous bag, trying to wrench it through her apartment doorway while muttering what might have been curses under her breath.


    "I think you might have overpacked," Angelo called out, making her jump.


    She released the bag with a huff, blowing stray hair from her flushed face. "You clearly don''t understand how girls pack, Angelo."


    Red materialized beside them, grinning wickedly. "Cut him some slack - our resident virgin isn''t exactly an expert on women."


    Angelo''s arm shot up reflexively, but Neiva''s sharp cry stopped him. "Don''t you dare! My floor''s already got one hole - I don''t need you putting any in the walls!"


    His evolved aura flickered with irritation as he lowered his hand. "Need help with that?" he asked instead, nodding toward her stranded luggage.


    "Please," she admitted, stepping aside.


    Angelo studied the stuck bag for a moment before letting his aura flow. Like steam rising from hot coffee, thin orange strands of energy drifted out from his body. These ghostly tendrils slipped easily through the tiny gaps where the bag was wedged in the doorframe, reaching spots no hand could get to. His aura brightened as he called on his evolved power, and the smoky strands turned solid, now glowing like melted metal in the morning light. Using these newly hardened energy arms, he got a good grip on the bag and pulled. With one careful tug, the stubborn luggage finally came free.


    The trip to the train station passed in unusual silence, Angelo''s typically dry commentary conspicuously absent. Even as they cleared security and found their platform, he remained lost in thought, arms crossed as he sat rigid on the metal bench.


    Neiva finally broke. "Okay, what''s wrong? You''ve barely said two words since we left."


    "Nothing," Angelo muttered, his gaze fixed on the distant tracks. "Just tired."


    Red materialized beside Neiva, making her edge closer to Angelo. "He''s been looking for excuses to delay this trip since I suggested it last week. Pretty obvious he doesn''t want to face Harry again-"


    "Maybe save the psychoanalysis for the train?" Angelo cut in sharply. "It''s a three-hour ride - plenty of time to dissect my issues then."


    The argument died as their train rumbled into the station, its gleaming sides reflecting the morning sun. Angelo rose with the stiff formality of someone walking to their execution.


    "Let''s go," he muttered, hefting their bags with evolved strength. But his rigid posture and carefully controlled expression suggested this journey meant far more than a simple trip home. Something waited in Ashford - something that made even the infamous Angel of Death approach with evident dread.


    The train''s narrow booth barely contained their massive bags, the luggage compartment straining against bags meant for a much longer journey than their trip warranted. Angelo slumped against the window while Red sprawled beside him, leaving Neiva to settle across from them. The morning sun painted shifting patterns across their faces as the train prepared to depart.


    Blue''s azure form materialized with characteristic precision, his scholarly presence a stark contrast to Red''s casual sprawl. "May I?" he gestured to the empty seat beside Neiva, his formal politeness making her smile.


    "Of course," she replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You don''t need to ask."


    "How wonderful, the whole family''s here," Angelo muttered toward the window, his reflection showing barely concealed tension.


    Red''s arm shot around Angelo''s shoulders as he attacked his original''s hair with playful knuckles. "Lighten up, Angie! This is gonna be great!" They looked almost normal in that moment - just brothers horsing around, if you ignored the fact that they were identical save for Red''s grayer tint.


    As the train lurched into motion, Neiva propped her phone against the window. The screen showed an empty podium decorated with festival banners, the background filled with the distant murmur of an gathering crowd.


    "The opening ceremony," she explained when Blue gestured curiously at the stream. "They never start on time, but I thought we could at least watch the speech since we''re missing the parades." Her voice carried careful neutrality, but something wistful flickered in her eyes.


    She turned to Angelo, whose gaze remained fixed on the passing landscape. "So what''s the real story with Ashford? Why the long face?"


    His sigh seemed to come from somewhere deep and painful. "Just... bad memories. Growing up there wasn''t exactly easy."


    "So this Harry person Red mentioned? An old bully?"


    "Not exactly," Angelo''s voice carried an edge that made her pause.


    Blue''s measured tones cut through the growing tension. "Our relationship with Harry was... complex. We were both unique, but in very different ways." He studied Neiva''s confused expression with scholarly patience. "We explained our condition, but not how it affected our early life."If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    The mood in the booth shifted as Blue continued, all three versions of Angelo wearing matching expressions of old pain. "Before Angelo manifested his aura, Red and I couldn''t materialize. We could only communicate internally."


    Understanding dawned in Neiva''s eyes as the implications sank in. "So to everyone else..."


    "Angelo appeared to be hearing voices," Blue confirmed gently. "You can imagine how that went over in a small town."


    Angelo''s reflection showed a carefully blank expression, but his white-knuckled grip on the armrest spoke volumes.


    "Everything changed when Angelo''s aura manifested at eleven," Blue continued. "Red and I discovered we could emerge, take physical form-"


    "And holy shit, what a trip that was!" Red cut in, gesturing wildly. "Try to imagine looking at yourself looking at yourself looking at yourself - it''s like some infinite mirror nightmare! Talk about a mind-fuck!"


    "That sounds... intense," Neiva managed, clearly trying to wrap her mind around the concept.


    "While Red''s explanation is somewhat crude," Blue adjusted his posture with scholarly disapproval, "the experience was indeed overwhelming at first."


    Red''s face split into a wicked grin. "Oh man, remember my favorite trick? I''d materialize and watch a clear path to make Angelo walk straight into a wall! The look on his face every time-"


    "I''m done with this," Angelo stood abruptly, his movement sharp with suppressed emotion.


    "Where are you going?" Neiva asked as he reached for the door.


    "Roof. Might as well get some meditation practice in." The door clicked shut behind him with quiet finality.


    Blue''s expression shifted to something grimly practical. "Red, go with him. Make sure he doesn''t get blown off the train."


    "Yeah, yeah." Red''s form dissolved into crimson smoke that slipped through the door''s edges.


    They heard muffled protests from other passengers as Angelo made his way to the rear exit. His orange aura blazed to life as he launched himself upward, forged energy tendrils materializing mid-leap to anchor him against the wind. He settled into a meditation pose on the train''s roof, trying to lose himself in the rhythm of his evolved state rather than dwell on the conversation continuing below.


    "You mentioned Harry was unique too," Neiva prompted gently once Angelo had left. Her fingers traced abstract patterns on the table as she spoke, curiosity warring with sympathy. "What made him special?"


    Blue settled back, his scholarly demeanor softening slightly. "Like Angelo, Harry''s true nature became apparent later after his aura manifested. He possessed a force aura, but it worked differently than any we''d seen before. Where most force Aurons gain balanced offensive and defensive capabilities, Harry''s power focused purely on attack strength."


    "Oh!" Neiva straightened, recognition lighting her features. "Like a glass cannon in video games - all offense, no defense?"


    "Precisely," Blue nodded, appreciating the analogy despite his unfamiliarity with gaming terms. "But that was just the beginning. Have you ever heard of dual auras?"


    "The term sounds familiar, but I don''t really know what it means," she admitted, leaning forward with interest.


    "It''s an extraordinarily rare phenomenon where an Auron can switch between two distinct aura types." Blue''s voice took on the careful patience of a teacher explaining something complex. "In Harry''s case, his force aura was split in two - a devastating red offensive form with almost no protection, and a blue defensive form that could absorb massive damage but barely scratch an opponent."


    "That''s incredible," Neiva breathed, the implications sinking in.


    "Indeed. While we were dismissed as circus freaks, Harry was celebrated as a once-in-a-generation prodigy." Blue''s usual composure cracked slightly on the word ''freaks.''


    "That must have been awful for Angelo..." Neiva''s gaze drifted to the door he''d left through.


    "Hmph, wasn''t exactly fun for us either," Red''s distant grumble carried through their shared consciousness.


    "She can''t fully grasp our situation, Red," Blue responded internally.


    "Then tell her!" Red''s frustration bubbled through their link.


    "I won''t stoop to your level of pettiness." Blue''s mental reply carried firm finality.


    "Blue?" Neiva''s voice pulled him back to the present. "You were saying about Harry?"


    "Ah yes, forgive me - Red was being... Red." Blue adjusted his posture, gathering his thoughts. "We sparred against Harry countless times during those years." His voice dropped lower, carrying old pain. "We never came close to victory."


    "Was he really that powerful?" Neiva asked, remembering how effortlessly Angelo had handled the purple energy Auron just days ago.


    "Our condition severely limits our strength," Blue explained carefully. "Angelo operates at half power, while Red and I function at quarter capacity." He felt Red''s essence twitch in shared irritation at this admission. "We usually compensate through coordination - our shared perception eliminates blind spots, letting us focus on evasion and precise strikes. But against Harry..." He trailed off, searching for words.


    "Why didn''t that work?" Neiva prompted.


    "Because he was like an advancing wall of absolute force," Blue''s scholarly tone took on an edge of remembered frustration. "His defensive form was impenetrable - our attacks couldn''t even scratch it. And he wielded both forms masterfully, switching to defense just before impacts then closing in with overwhelming offensive power. Red and I..." he paused, "One solid hit was all it took to dispel our forms."


    "It''s like rock-paper-scissors," Neiva observed thoughtfully. "Except he had paper and scissors, and you only had rock."


    Blue suddenly shot to his feet, tension radiating from his materialized form. Neiva jumped at the movement, but then watched in confusion as his rigid posture gradually relaxed. "What''s wrong?"


    "Nothing to worry about," he replied, settling back down with visible exasperation.


    Before she could press further, muffled screams drew her attention to the window. Her breath caught at glimpses of Angelo tumbling through the air, saved only by Red''s crimson energy tendrils yanking him back to safety. Moments later, Angelo stumbled into the booth looking pale as milk.


    "Are you okay?" Neiva asked, her voice shaking slightly.


    "Yeah... fine..." Angelo managed weakly as Red materialized beside him, cackling with delight.


    "You should''ve seen his face!" Red wheezed between laughs. "He pushed so hard his aura just died - went flying like a leaf in a hurricane! Priceless!"


    "Perhaps," Blue observed dryly, "a moving train''s roof isn''t the ideal location for meditation practice."


    "Especially not at full speed," Neiva added.


    "Or while exhausting yourself to such extremes," Blue finished with pointed disapproval.


    "Hey, it wasn''t my fault that you-" Angelo''s defense cut off as Neiva suddenly straightened.


    "Quiet!" She gestured urgently at her phone where a presenter had appeared at the festival podium. They all turned their attention to the screen, momentarily united in curiosity about what announcement could command such immediate silence.


    The presenter''s voice crackled through Neiva''s phone speakers: "...and now, please welcome a direct descendant of Lu-Min herself, the mayor of Lumecent - Jun-Min!"


    The crowd erupted as a young woman in a crisp suit took the podium, her confidence filling the screen even through the small display. She waited for the cheers to settle, her smile radiating warmth as she began:


    "Good people of Lumecent and Luminia, today marks 104 years since my great-grandmother Lu-Min ended a war that had torn families apart. History remembers her as a Legendary Auron, her lightning so brilliant it rivaled Zephyria''s auroras. When she unleashed her power, they say the very sky became her canvas."


    "Man, I hope my aura ends up being lightning!" Neiva sighed dreamily, momentarily lost in the possibility.


    Angelo''s lips quirked with old amusement. "Don''t get your hopes up. I spent years wishing for silver."


    "That''s not even the best part," Red snickered, sprawling across his seat. "We would''ve taken ANY color but orange. And look what he got stuck with!"


    "Indeed," Blue adjusted his posture with scholarly precision. "The statistical improbability of matching both Sleeser''s color and aura type is quite remarkable."


    "Guess I should''ve played the lottery instead," Angelo muttered, taking a long drink from his water bottle.


    Neiva''s giggles faded as something clicked. "Wait - Red, you said ''we would''ve taken.'' You mean you and Blue wanted different colors too?"


    "Well yeah," Red''s typical bravado softened slightly. "Back then we didn''t know we were separate from Angelo. Thought we were all just... him."


    "I guess that makes sense," Neiva nodded thoughtfully. "I''d probably think the same thing."


    Red''s eyes took on a predatory gleam as he remembered. "I was first to break free - some bullies had started using their auras against Angelo. That first taste of freedom..." His grin widened. "Should''ve seen everyone''s faces when this crimson terror emerged! Named myself Red right then and there, after me red aura." He shot Blue a wicked look. "This nerd had zero creativity or a backbone back then, just copied my naming scheme."


    Blue looked away, scholarly composure cracking with embarrassment, but Neiva''s attention had already snapped back to her phone as the mayor''s voice took on new urgency:


    "The Sundering Flames'' attack on Novaria last week was meant to break our spirit, to weaken us before our celebration. These Infernian terrorists believe crushing our joy is the first step to reclaiming Luminia. But they''re wrong." Jun-Min''s voice rose with conviction. "Nothing will stop us from celebrating the new light our founder bestowed upon us. We will shine as bright as lightning against the darkness!"


    As cheers erupted around the podium, nearby at the top floor of a towering skyscraper overlooking the town square. The VIENNA BEAUTY logo cast its neon glow across an elegant office where a striking woman stood at the window, smoke curling around her as she watched the ceremony below. Behind her, a handsome middle-aged man maintained a carefully calculated distance.


    "Lady Vienna," his voice carried practiced charm, "there''s no need to make this difficult. The proposal benefits us both."


    She exhaled a perfect smoke ring without turning. "Oh Arthur, I wasn''t born yesterday. If your company thinks a handsome face and expensive gift will sway me, you''ve severely misread the situation."


    "My dear," his smile could have melted steel, "the gift was purely personal. Visiting such beauty empty-handed would be criminal."


    A knock interrupted their dance of words and power. At Vienna''s command, Lector entered, his suit impossibly pristine despite the obvious tension in his bearing.


    "Madam," he acknowledged with perfect formality, then nodded to Arthur. "Sir."


    Vienna finally turned, her beauty making Arthur catch his breath. "I appreciate men of your... caliber, Arthur. I''ll consider the proposal, but tell your company to expect negotiations." Her dismissal carried silk-wrapped steel. "Please see to it quickly."


    He lifted her hand to his lips with theatrical grace. "Of course, my lady. You''ll hear from us very soon." His eyes met Lector''s in silent assessment before he departed.


    Once alone, Lector moved closer, his usual composure cracking slightly. "I apologize for my absence, madam. I bring concerning news."


    "Let me guess - our Angel of Death?" Weariness colored her tone.


    "He appears to be investigating his parents'' deaths." The words hung heavy in the smoke-filled air.


    Vienna''s cigarette froze halfway to her lips. "Your evidence?"


    "He''s en route to Ashford. While we can''t confirm his intentions, the timing is suspect." Lector paused meaningfully. "There''s more - two additional matters of note."


    After a calculated silence, she murmured, "Continue."


    "He''s evolved - achieved Adept rank in the ACE evaluation. While not immediately threatening, his youth makes this... noteworthy." Lector''s carefully measured words carried hidden warning. "Evolution at eighteen is rare."


    She nodded almost imperceptibly. "And?"


    "Something... peculiar." His hands trembled slightly as he offered her a research paper.


    "''The Components of Pure Energy Theory?''" Confusion flickered across her perfect features. "What relevance-"


    "Angelo is credited as a primary contributor, along with two others - Red and Blue."


    "Strange names for scientists," she mused, genuine interest coloring her tone. "And the boy, delving in scientific research? I suppose its not all too surprising."


    "I''ve reviewed the paper thoroughly," Lector pressed on. "I believe Angelo wasn''t a contributing researcher - he was the subject. If my theory is correct..." He swallowed hard.


    "Out with it."


    His tablet displayed grainy footage of the Infernian attack - two blurred figures wreathed in red and blue light, moving with impossible coordination against the purple force Auron. "Witnesses reported these figures were identical to Angelo. Combined with the paper''s findings about matter separation..." He inhaled sharply. "Too many coincidences become a pattern, madam."


    "You''re circling something, Lector. What exactly are you suggesting?" Impatience edged her voice.


    He gathered himself, years of careful control crystallizing into certainty. "The paper discusses splitting matter into three identical copies. I believe Angelo himself is such a case - his energy divided into three distinct entities: himself, Red, and Blue. It explains everything we''ve observed."


    "And you think this connects to our organization." It wasn''t a question.


    After a long moment, Lector whispered a single word that seemed to reshape reality around them: "Yes."

 31. Returning to Ashford

    The tiny train station on the outskirts of Ashford stood like a lonely sentinel in the autumn landscape, its weathered wooden platform and handful of sleepy staff a stark contrast to Novaria''s bustling terminals. As Angelo stepped down from the train, the solid thunk of his boots against familiar planks sent echoes through both the station and his memories. Two years ago, he''d left this same platform with Sleeser, his heart full of dreams about becoming a proper Auron. Now he was back, evolved and changed, yet somehow everything about Ashford felt exactly the same ¨C right down to the way the wind whispered through the ash trees.


    "Time to find ourselves a good camping spot in the forest," Angelo announced, trying to mask his unease at being back with casual indifference.


    "Aye aye, captain!" Neiva''s enthusiasm burst out complete with a theatrical salute that made Angelo''s eye twitch in annoyance.


    "What? Is ''captain'' forbidden too?" She pressed, but Angelo had already started walking, leaving her to scramble after him with an indignant "Hey, wait up!"


    The forest welcomed them with a carpet of fallen leaves in brilliant shades of red and gold, ash trees stretching toward a crystal-clear autumn sky. Their footsteps crunched pleasantly against the forest floor as they made their way deeper into the woods, Red and Blue''s materialized forms falling into step beside Angelo and Neiva like a peculiar family out for a stroll.


    "You two are materializing more often lately," Angelo observed, glancing at his duplicates while his evolved energy tendrils managed their heavy bags with occasional frustrated swats at low-hanging branches. "Red I get ¨C he can''t sit still to save his life. But you, Blue?"


    Blue adjusted his posture with scholarly precision. "Previous experience suggests our internal conversations make you appear distracted to others. This arrangement should prevent such social awkwardness."


    "Ha! Nice try, professor!" Red''s face split into a knowing grin. "You just can''t stand being left out of the action!"


    "I see no reason to dignify such childish speculation with a response." Blue turned away with a sniff that fooled absolutely no one.


    Neiva''s giggle broke through their bickering. "You really are like three brothers! Is that how you see yourselves?" She directed the question to Angelo, who was currently engaged in a losing battle with a particularly stubborn tree branch caught in his energy constructs.


    "Hard to see it that way when we''re so different," he grunted, finally freeing the branch with more force than strictly necessary. "The face is about all we have in common."


    "That''s exactly what makes you brothers!" Neiva insisted, ducking under a branch Angelo had accidentally sent swinging. "Real siblings can be complete opposites ¨C some don''t even look alike."


    "Fascinating," Angelo''s dry tone made it clear it was anything but. His patience with the forest obstacle course finally snapped. "Hey, you two freeloaders! Instead of walking around like tourists, how about going smoke form and scouting us a decent campsite?"


    Red and Blue exchanged a look that somehow managed to combine annoyance and resignation. Their synchronized "Fine!" and "Very well" preceded their transformation into crimson and azure smoke that streamed back into Angelo''s body before dispersing outward to explore.


    "Why do they have to go back into you first?" Neiva asked, watching the colored smoke weave between trees. "Seems like an extra step."


    Angelo shrugged, his energy tendrils adjusting their grip on the bags. "Who knows? It''s just how it works. They can turn to smoke whenever, but they have to reconnect with me before they can move freely again."


    "Interesting..." Neiva mused, studying the distant wisps of color. "Though why call it smoke form? It''s more like mist really ¨C all ethereal and semi-transparent. Smoke''s usually thick and dark."


    "Because it''s called smoke form, not mist form," Angelo replied with the particular patience of someone explaining that water is wet.


    "Duh," Red chimed in internally as if that made perfect sense.


    Their conversation drifted into comfortable silence as they continued deeper into the forest, autumn leaves dancing around them like nature''s own festival decorations. The woods seemed to hold its breath around them, as if sensing that these visitors carried the weight of long-buried secrets in their wake.


    Angelo''s eyes suddenly widened as Blue''s distant vision filtered through their shared consciousness. "Blue, look left ¨C I think you passed something." Through their mental link, he watched as Blue''s ethereal form twisted like morning mist caught in a breeze, revealing a perfect clearing. "Stay there as a marker for us."


    With four glowing orange tendrils already occupied with their massive bags, Angelo made a split-second decision that his evolved state couldn''t maintain much longer. He scooped Neiva up under one arm like an oversized backpack and launched them skyward. Her startled shriek turned into a series of smaller yelps as they bounded from treetop to treetop, autumn leaves scattering in their wake.


    When they finally landed in the clearing, Angelo''s energy constructs dissipated like smoke in a strong wind as he dropped everything ¨C bags and passenger alike ¨C before collapsing onto the grass. His evolved aura flickered weakly around him, betraying his exhaustion.


    "HEY!" Neiva scrambled to her feet, face flushed with indignation as she brushed leaves and dirt from her clothes. "I am not luggage!"


    "Sorry," Angelo managed between heavy breaths. "Running out of... stamina."


    "Hmph." She crossed her arms, her anger deflating in the face of his obvious exhaustion. Then something clicked. "Wait a minute... how did you even know how to get here?"Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "What do you mean?" Angelo asked, fumbling with his water bottle.


    "Well, I thought Blue was guiding you, but..." Her forehead wrinkled in concentration. "Just seeing somewhere from above doesn''t tell you how to reach it. And if you knew the forest well enough to recognize the spot, why send Blue searching in the first place?"


    Blue materialized, genuine respect coloring his scholarly features. "Excellent deduction, Neiva. The answer is quite simple ¨C can you touch your nose with your finger in complete darkness?"


    "Um, yes?" She blinked at the seemingly random question.


    Angelo took a long drink, rolling his eyes as Blue slipped into full professor mode.


    "That''s called proprioception, my dear," Blue explained with academic enthusiasm.


    "''My dear?''" Red''s mental voice dripped amusement. "Someone''s been spending too much time with the old man."


    "Quiet," Blue''s internal response could have frozen fire. He continued smoothly, "This sense allows coordinated movement without visual input. We three share this awareness even when separated. Simply by standing here, I provided Angelo with our exact location."


    "That''s amazing!" Neiva''s eyes lit up with understanding. "Super useful too!"


    "NERD!" Red materialized just to shout the accusation.


    Angelo pushed himself up with a weary sigh, his stamina slowly returning. "Alright, enough biology lessons. Let''s get these tents up."


    "Word of caution," Blue interjected. "I''d avoid using forged energy with the tendrils ¨C they might tear the fabric."


    They set to work, their basic auras providing gentler tendrils for the task. While Angelo and Blue methodically raised one tent together, Red tackled the other solo. Neiva perched on a nearby boulder, feeling somewhat useless until her eyes widened in amazement.


    "Wow," she breathed, watching Red orchestrate ten energy tendrils in perfect synchronization, his progress easily outpacing the other two''s combined efforts.


    She drifted closer, studying his work. "First you turn out to be an empath, now you''re some kind of multitasking genius. If we hadn''t gotten off on the wrong foot, I might actually think you''re impressive."


    Red''s trademark smirk appeared as he secured the final tent pole. "What, still hung up on ''sugar-tits''? Did that ruffle your delicate feathers?"


    She crossed her arms with a disapproving snicker. "Add ''pervert'' to your list of charming qualities."


    "Hate to burst your bubble, sugar-tits," he repeated deliberately, "but I can''t be a pervert. Don''t feel attraction ¨C romantic or sexual." His grin widened. "Chaos is the only thing that gets me going."


    "You''re... asexual?" The word came out half-question, half-revelation.


    Blue approached, leaving Angelo muttering over his tent poles. "Not precisely. Red and I aren''t biological entities with biological needs. We don''t eat, drink, or sleep. The same applies to attraction."


    "Yeah, even that slap you gave me? Didn''t feel a thing." Red''s wicked smile returned. "Totally wasted effort."


    "We can only experience physical sensation through Angelo''s body," Blue elaborated. "We register his pain but don''t suffer from it. We simply... observe it." He turned back toward Angelo at a disapproving grunt from their original.


    Neiva processed this information before blurting, "So... does that mean Angelo feels attraction then?" The question escaped before she could stop it.


    "Oh boy, does he!" Red barely contained his laughter. "You should''ve felt his heart racing when he talked to this worker in that toy store! Though maybe I shouldn''t specify which kind of toy store-" He dodged sideways as an orange energy beam sizzled past his ear.


    "RED, I WILL END YOU!" Angelo''s fury echoed through the clearing.


    Neiva retreated to her boulder, her face matching her brilliant red hair as laughter and threats continued to fill the forest air.


    Soon after, the tents stood ready in the forest clearing, their supplies tucked safely inside, but no one moved to leave. They just stared at their temporary home until Neiva broke the silence. "We''re not really going to leave everything just sitting here, are we?"


    "I could stay behind," Angelo offered too quickly, his ulterior motive transparent as glass. "Get some training in while I guard the camp."


    "Absolutely not!" Neiva planted her hands on her hips. "You have to come with us!" Her eyes darted hopefully to Red.


    "Oh no, not happening!" Red threw his hands up in theatrical protest. "I just spent hours playing office ghost ¨C you are not sticking me with guard duty!"


    "I also would prefer not to remain here..." Blue''s careful deflection carried no explanation, but his scholarly discomfort was evident.


    Angelo sighed, shoulders slumping. "Fine, we leave it all here. Nothing''s going to mess with our stuff anyway."


    "What about creating some kind of energy barrier?" Neiva suggested, her eyes lighting up with the idea.


    "Two problems," Angelo held up fingers. "First, my energy dissipates when I deactivate my aura. Second, it might explode."


    Blue''s analytical expression sharpened with interest. "Regarding your second point ¨C we''ve yet to see forged energy detonate. It may lack that capacity entirely." His eyes took on that particular gleam that meant a theory was forming. "As for the first issue, you might be able to create forged energy that persists even after your aura deactivates. The principle should be similar to temporary matter."


    Angelo''s brow furrowed in concentration while Neiva glanced between them in growing confusion. Red, for once, kept uncharacteristically quiet ¨C likely afraid someone might volunteer him for sentry duty. Finally, Angelo spoke: "So... pack more energy into it? That might work..."


    "Sorry, but what''s temporary matter?" Neiva cut in, frustration evident in her voice.


    "Later," Angelo waved off her question, making her cheeks puff with annoyance. His evolved aura erupted around him like a contained sunrise before settling into steady orange flames. He cupped his hands, pouring energy into a small sphere for nearly a minute without letting it grow larger. "That should do it," he muttered, placing the glowing orb on the ground where it cast dancing shadows across nearby stones. When he deactivated his aura, the sphere remained, drawing an impressed whistle from Red.


    "Well damn, it actually worked," Red admitted, studying the persistent light.


    "Wait ¨C I''ve got an idea," Angelo''s eyes lit up. "Quick, follow my lead!" Their evolved auras ignited in perfect sync as they each began concentrating energy into similar orbs while Neiva watched with undisguised curiosity.


    "That tiny amount can''t possibly protect the whole camp..." Skepticism colored her voice.


    "Just watch," Angelo''s satisfied smile suggested he knew something she didn''t. He raised his arms like a conductor about to lead an orchestra, the glowing sphere trailing his fingers'' movement. Red and Blue mirrored his gesture, and together they began weaving their orbs through the air. Like luminous thread unwinding from balls of light, thin strands of forged energy stretched between trees, creating a glowing barrier that resembled police tape made of captured sunlight.


    "If anything crosses that line, we''ll know," Angelo explained, pride evident in his voice. "We can get back here fast if needed."


    "Perfect!" Neiva bounced on her toes with renewed enthusiasm. "Now we can all go together!"


    They set off toward Ashford proper, leaving their protected camp behind. Angelo''s posture grew more rigid with each step, as if physically bracing for whatever ghosts from his past awaited in the town ahead.


    After 10 minutes of walking, they finally crossed into Ashford. It was a small town, one could see almost all of it from it''s center. The town hall was comically in its center like something from an old movie. There were some luxurious houses with big gardens at the town''s outskirts - obviously taking some of the unoccupied forest areas as gardens. Memories came rushing back, when Angelo saw his old school, the town''s market and lets not forget, the orphanage.


    They all braced themselves to the secrets Ashford holds, and await their imminent discovery...

 32. Shadows of Ashford

    The market district sprawled before them, the afternoon sun casting long shadows between weathered storefronts. Angelo scanned the quiet streets until his gaze landed on a figure lounging in a doorway, wisps of cigarette smoke curling around him. The moment Angelo recognized those familiar features, his jaw tightened with old tension.


    The lounging man straightened as they approached, a cruel smirk spreading across his face as he recognized them. "Well, would you look at this circus coming to town," he called out, flicking ash from his cigarette. "The freak show''s back - that you, Jello?"


    Angelo''s shoulders stiffened as he met Drake''s mocking gaze. "Still hanging around doorways and calling people names, Drake? Some things never change."


    Drake pushed off from the wall, deliberately taking a long drag before blowing smoke in their direction. "Oh, someone''s developed an attitude," he drawled. "Remember when you''d just cry and run away? Those were the days."


    Angelo''s eyes flared orange, the glow reflecting off nearby windows as his voice dropped to something dangerous and cold. "Those days are long gone. These days, they call me the Angel of Death. Keep pushing, and you''ll find out exactly why."


    A muscle twitched near Drake''s eye, but he forced a laugh that echoed hollowly between the buildings. "Look who grew a spine along with that sad excuse for a beard. What, got yourself a fancy title and now you think you''re something special?"


    Neiva shifted her weight nervously, watching the tension build between them like storm clouds gathering before lightning strikes.


    "Still better than being a washed-up bully hanging around market entrances," Angelo replied with deadly calm. Drake''s snort couldn''t quite hide how the barb had landed.


    Red stepped forward from where he''d been watching, his predatory grin spreading wider with each step. "Want me to handle this tough guy, Angelo? I can smell his fear from here - he''s practically shaking in his boots."


    "Keep your nose to yourself, circus clown," Drake shot back, though his voice wavered slightly. "This is between me and the original freak."


    Red''s laughter rang off the storefronts like breaking glass. "Oh, getting defensive now? I can feel that knot of panic growing in your throat. Must be hard, trying to act tough when your heart''s racing like a frightened rabbit."


    Drake''s hand flew to his neck reflexively, cold sweat beading on his forehead. "Wha- what would you know? You... you don''t know a damn thing!" The words came out more shrill than he''d likely intended.


    "Really?" Red''s innocent tone dripped venom. "Then why are you sweating like you''ve seen a ghost? Could it be because deep down, you know you''re not the big man you pretend to be?"


    Drake''s crimson aura erupted around him as a vein throbbed at his temple. "That''s it! Let''s see if you''re still running that mouth after I kick your asses like I used to!"


    Neiva yelped and jumped back. Angelo extended a steadying hand, giving her a reassuring look as Blue moved protectively to her side, disapproval radiating from his scholarly posture.


    Red''s own crimson aura burst to life, the energy crackling around him like bottled lightning. "Oh, you want to dance? I could handle you solo without breaking a sweat!" His aura began to shift and writhe, the simple glow transforming into crimson smoky flames.


    Drake''s eyes widened in horror as his own aura flickered and died like a candle in strong wind. "Impossible..." He bit his lip until it whitened, hands clenching into trembling fists. "How could someone like you evolve while I..." Shock gave way to rage as his face flushed dark with humiliation. "What are you even doing back here, Angelo? Nobody wants you in Ashford!"


    Angelo turned away, the dismissal clear in every line of his body. "Your opinion stopped mattering a long time ago." He glanced at the others. "Let''s go. We''re wasting time on yesterday''s trash."


    Red''s evolved aura faded as he turned to follow, triumph radiating from his predatory smile. The crimson energy particles scattered like dying embers in the afternoon light.


    "Running away again?" Drake''s voice cracked with desperate anger. "I''ve seen the news about your Angel of Death act! Everyone knows what you really are - just a murderer with a badge!" His bravado crept back, though brittle as thin ice. "And Harry? He despises what you''ve become even more than before. Trust me, he''d still wipe the floor with you any day!"


    Neiva watched Angelo''s back go rigid at Harry''s name, but no response came. After a moment that stretched like pulled taffy, Angelo simply started walking again, each step measured and deliberate.


    "Yeah, that''s right!" Drake''s voice chased them down the street. "Keep running like you always-" His words died in his throat as Red''s head snapped around, murderous intent blazing in his crimson eyes. Drake stumbled back against the wall, cigarette dropping forgotten from nerveless fingers.


    Once they''d left the market district behind, Blue broke the heavy silence. "You still let them get under your skin. After all this time, you still can''t walk away clean." His scholarly tone carried years of weary observation. "The more things change, the more they stay the same-"


    "You''re wrong," Angelo cut him off, conviction hardening his voice. "This time was different. This time, I chose how it ended."


    "Speaking of endings," Red mused, strolling with exaggerated casualness as if the confrontation had never happened, "think our old friend Harry''s kept up his training? I mean, if that bastard managed to evolve..." He glanced at Blue with uncharacteristic thoughtfulness. "Can someone with dual auras even do that? How would it work?"


    The question caught Blue''s scholarly interest, his brow furrowing as he considered the theoretical implications. But finding no immediate answer in his vast knowledge, he lapsed into contemplative silence as they made their way deeper into the town that held so many bitter memories.


    The sun continued its slow arc overhead, casting their shadows long against streets that felt both achingly familiar and somehow foreign, as if Ashford itself had evolved during their absence into something both old and new - much like the man who''d once fled its cruel embrace, only to return seeking answers about his past.


    Red stopped abruptly as they passed a weathered bench pressed against an old stone wall, his usual mischief softening into something almost nostalgic. "Hey, remember this spot? This is where I first tasted freedom!"


    "Really?" Neiva peered at the simple wooden bench with newfound interest. "Right there?"


    "Nah," Red''s grin turned predatory as he placed his hand against the wall''s rough surface. "Right here. Some punks had Angelo cornered, thinking they''d found easy prey. That''s when I finally broke through-"


    "We''re not doing this," Angelo cut him off, already walking away. His rigid shoulders made it clear that reminiscing wasn''t part of today''s agenda. The others hurried to catch up as he rounded a corner and came to an abrupt halt.


    Before them stood a mansion that seemed to mock the surrounding buildings with its pristine elegance - manicured gardens, gleaming windows, and architecture that spoke of wealth and privilege. Angelo stared at it, something complicated working behind his eyes. "So that''s how it turned out."


    "What do you mean?" Neiva asked softly, sensing the weight in his words.


    "This is where it happened." His voice carried old pain as he gestured toward the immaculate property. "Where my parents were murdered. Last time I saw it, it was just ruins - they''d torn down the old house right before I left for Novaria. Never saw what they built in its place until now."Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    Neiva let the moment breathe, sharing his silent grief, until a thought struck her like lightning. "Wait a minute - wasn''t this your parents'' property?"


    "Maybe?" Angelo shrugged, uncertainty creeping into his voice. "I used to hide in the ruins as a kid, but no one ever really explained who owned it. Though I suppose if they were renting, someone would have fixed it before I got to explore it."


    "But if it was theirs..." Neiva''s mind raced ahead. "Wouldn''t you have inherited it? What did their will say?"


    The word ''will'' hit all three versions of Angelo like a physical blow. They turned to stare at her with identical expressions of dawning horror.


    "Their... will?" Angelo repeated the word as if he didn''t understand the word''s meaning.


    Neiva''s eyes widened with growing disbelief. "Please tell me you got their will. Tell me you at least looked for it. Right? RIGHT?!"


    The silence stretched until Angelo started rhythmically banging his forehead against the property''s outer wall. "How. Can. I. Be. So. STUPID!" Each word punctuated by another thump. Red, finding humor even in crisis, began playfully poking and prodding Angelo''s sides in time with the head-banging. Meanwhile, Blue''s scholarly composure crumbled into an expression of such profound self-disappointment it could have filled an ocean.


    Angelo finally stopped, forehead pressed against the cool stone in defeat. Red continued his gentle harassment until Angelo snapped upright, whirling on his duplicate. "Would you STOP that?!"


    "So let me get this straight," Neiva''s voice cut through their antics like a steel blade. "You never checked if your parents left you anything. Never looked into their savings." Each point made them flinch as if struck. "And if they really were from Infernia, you have no idea what property or possessions they might have had there. Did I miss anything?"


    The three exchanged guilty looks before Angelo''s shoulders slumped in defeat. "Yeah... that about covers it."


    "You''re an idiot," Neiva declared with the finality of a judge passing sentence.


    Angelo''s grumbled response was cut short by a gentle male voice from the now-open doorway. "Is everything alright out here? Who are you people?"


    The afternoon light caught the speaker''s concerned expression as he studied the strange group gathered outside his wall - including three identical men and one exasperated redhead who all looked like they''d rather be anywhere else at that moment.


    The moment the man appeared, Neiva transformed like a switch had been flipped. Her entire demeanor softened as she glided forward with practiced grace, radiating the kind of warmth that made people instinctively lower their guard. "Good afternoon, sir! Would you mind if we asked you a few questions?" Her smile could have melted winter frost.


    The man shifted his weight uncertainly, gaze darting between Neiva''s disarming presence and the three identical men hovering behind her. His eyes lingered especially long on Red, whose predatory grin wasn''t helping matters. "I suppose... that would be alright. What''s this about?"


    "Let me introduce ourselves properly," Neiva''s voice carried the perfect blend of politeness and authority. "I''m Neiva Wines, and this is Angelo Ashworth." She gestured smoothly between them before extending her hand expectantly.


    "Ruel Shields," he replied, accepting her handshake with visible hesitation. "Pleasure to meet you..."


    Red''s carefully neutral expression twitched as his internal voice exploded with indignation. "Hey, what about us? We''re standing right here!"


    "Fascinating how quickly you''ve devolved from ''evil incarnate'' to ''ignored child at a party,''" Blue''s mental response dripped icicles.


    "Both of you, shut it!" Angelo''s internal command carried the weight of years managing their bickering.


    Neiva shot them a look sharp enough to cut steel before turning back to Ruel, her smile never wavering. "If you wouldn''t mind, sir - do you own this lovely property?"


    The simple question drained the color from Ruel''s face faster than a pulled plug empties a sink.


    "Look at him squirm," Red observed with predatory interest. "His heart''s doing gymnastics."


    Blue couldn''t resist adding: "Yes, thank you for that riveting analysis of his obvious panic."


    Angelo stepped forward, trying to defuse the tension. "We''re not here to cause trouble. This house - it belonged to my parents before they died." His attempt at reassurance had exactly the opposite effect.


    "Are you saying..." Ruel''s voice cracked like thin ice. "Are you claiming ownership?"


    "No, no, absolutely not!" Neiva jumped in, shooting Angelo a look that could have withered plants. "We''re just trying to piece together some family history. Angelo lost his parents as an infant, so there are a lot of blanks to fill." Her voice softened with calculated sympathy. "We were hoping whoever sold you the property might help us understand more about what happened back then."


    The explanation worked like magic. Relief flooded Ruel''s features as righteous indignation took the place of fear. "Oh, I see exactly what''s going on here." His expression hardened with purpose. "That snake who sold me this place - I knew something wasn''t right about that deal. He lives just a few blocks from here, and I think it''s high time someone asked him some very specific questions."


    Ruel strode off with the determined energy of someone who''d just discovered they''d been wronged, gesturing for them to follow. As they fell in behind him, his muttered threats about "shady real estate practices" and "criminal behavior" painted a clear picture of what awaited the mysterious seller.


    The afternoon sun cast their shadows long against Ashford''s streets as they followed Ruel''s angry march toward what promised to be an interesting confrontation. Above them, festival banners fluttered in the breeze, their cheerful colors a stark contrast to the growing tension in the air.


    Ruel led them to a weathered house that somehow managed to look both decrepit and sturdy at the same time. He pounded on the door hard enough to make the hinges rattle, his earlier anger still evident in every movement.


    The door creaked open to reveal a heavyset older man, his patchy beard as unkempt as his balding head. His bleary eyes narrowed at the unexpected crowd on his doorstep. "Who''s trying to break down my- Oh, it''s you... Shield-something."


    "Shields," Ruel corrected through gritted teeth. "Ruel Shields. And I''ve got some questions for you."


    The old man''s expression brightened with calculated friendliness. "Oh? Looking to expand? Maybe add that spa room we discussed?"


    "Don''t play games, Bob," Ruel snapped. "You sold me property that didn''t belong to you! This young man''s parents lived there before they died."


    Bob''s gaze shifted to Angelo, deliberately ignoring Ruel''s accusation. "And you are?"


    "Angelo Ashworth." The name fell between them like a dropped stone.


    "Ah, the Ashworth boy..." Bob''s eyes narrowed as they tracked between the three identical figures. "Funny thing though - I distinctly remember the Ashworths only having one child."


    The words hit like a splash of cold water. Ruel spun toward Angelo, betrayal written across his features. "You''ve been lying to me?"


    "No," Angelo''s jaw tightened as he scrambled for an explanation. "They''re manifestations of my Auron powers - intimidation tactics for my investigation." The lie tasted bitter on his tongue.


    "Both of you, back to me NOW," his mental command crackled with urgency. "No arguments, Red!"


    "Aww, but watching you squirm is so entertaining," Red''s internal voice dripped satisfaction.


    "This isn''t the time for your games," Blue''s scholarly disapproval cut through their link.


    "Make me," Red''s challenge carried childish glee.


    Angelo fought down his frustration. "Here, I''ll show you," he gestured toward Blue, who smoothly dissolved into azure smoke that streamed back into Angelo''s body. Both Bob and Ruel jumped at the display while Neiva released a carefully controlled breath, clearly relieved they had some kind of plan.


    "There! Now about that property-" Ruel turned back to Bob, righteous anger reignited. "You''ve got some explaining to do. This is criminal!"


    "Now, now," Bob raised his hands placatingly, though something shifted behind his eyes. "Do I really strike you as someone who would-"


    "So you deny your crimes?" Angelo''s quiet words cut through the afternoon air like a blade. His head was bowed, orange light beginning to leak from his eyes as his voice dropped to something dangerous and cold. "Refuse to seek redemption?"


    Everyone turned toward him as tension crackled through the air like static before a storm. Angelo''s head snapped up, his evolved aura exploding outward with enough force to make Bob and Ruel stumble back. Orange energy coalesced into flowing robes while a halo of solidified power materialized above him, casting dramatic shadows across his face.


    Blue materialized in a swirl of azure light, his own evolved aura flaring as he positioned himself between Angelo and the others. Red''s predatory laughter echoed from somewhere behind them, adding an unsettling backdrop to the scene.


    "If staring death in the face doesn''t change a man," Angelo intoned with theatrical menace as he advanced, Blue trying to hold him back, "nothing will."


    "Angelo, this is completely inappropriate," Blue''s scholarly disapproval couldn''t quite mask his exasperation.


    "Change your heart and seek redemption..." Angelo continued, clearly lost in his routine.


    "Angelo, stop!" Neiva''s sharp command carried equal parts concern and embarrassment.


    "You see? Even Neiva thinks you''re overreacting-" Blue tried again.


    "Or strike at me, and face death''s judgment!" Angelo pushed against Blue''s restraining grip.


    Red''s cackling grew louder. "Really? Even that part? He''s not even an Auron,"


    "My, my," Bob''s voice cut through the melodrama, remarkably steady for someone facing the Angel of Death''s signature performance. "Quite the troublemaker we have here. But believe it or not, I''ve committed no crime. I''ll explain everything - if you''re willing to listen."


    The tension shattered like dropped glass. Angelo''s evolved state vanished as if someone had flipped a switch, leaving him standing there in normal clothes looking almost casual. "Alright then," he said as if he hadn''t just been threatening divine judgment, "what''s your explanation?"


    The others could only stare, momentarily stunned by his instant transformation from avenging angel to reasonable investigator. The afternoon sun continued its slow arc overhead, completely indifferent to the bizarre scene playing out beneath it.


    Bob''s expression shifted into something unreadable as he studied the strange group gathered at his doorstep. His earlier nervousness had vanished entirely, replaced by the calm confidence of someone who''d just realized they held the upper hand.


    "Well then," he said, gesturing toward his living room with deliberate casualness. "Shall we discuss the rather interesting history of that property?"

 33.1. And The Rest Is History

    The floorboards creaked under Bob''s weight as he limped through his front door. "Jenette!" he called out, his voice carrying forced cheer. "Fetch some coffee and tea, would you? We''ve got guests!"


    "Oh?" The clatter of dishes echoed from deeper in the house. "Who''s visiting?"


    Bob glanced back at the group following him into his modest living room. "Just some trouble makers!" he announced with strained enthusiasm that did nothing to ease the tension.


    Neiva settled onto an aged couch while Angelo and Ruel remained standing, neither quite willing to make themselves comfortable. Red leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his ever-present grin suggesting he found the whole situation terribly amusing. Blue had chosen to stay merged with Angelo for now, watching through their shared consciousness.


    "Well then," Bob eased himself into his chair with a grunt. "Let''s not beat around the bush here."


    "I''d appreciate that," Angelo replied, his tone carrying the edge of someone who''d run out of patience.


    Bob''s expression grew more calculating as he studied them. "Tell me - ever heard of something called the ''Statute of Limitations''?"


    "No..." Neiva''s outraged gasp cut through the room before he could continue. Her hands clenched into fists as understanding dawned. "Is that why you sold Angelo''s house? Because he didn''t claim it in time?"


    Angelo blinked, the implications hitting him like a physical blow as his family home suddenly transformed from mystery into lost opportunity.


    "Now, now." Bob raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Hear me out. When the Ashworths met their end, we obviously couldn''t just hand down property to an infant. Yes, he was a valid next of kin, but protocol required us to look for other relatives in Luminia first." He shifted in his seat, discomfort evident in every movement. "Sadly, we didn''t find any."


    "Then why-" Neiva began, but Bob cut her off with another placating wave.


    "Hold on, I wasn''t finished." His fingers drummed against his chair''s armrest. "Their names - Cyrus and Nova Ashworth. Can''t believe I still remember them after all this time." His attempt at levity fell flat in the heavy atmosphere. "Obviously these are Infernian names. We tried searching for relatives there as well, but Infernia being a foreign region with... rocky relations at best..." He spread his hands helplessly. "It posed significant challenges."


    "So where does that leave us?" Angelo''s question carried dangerous calm.


    "Well..." Bob''s gaze dropped to his lap. "We searched for years. I suppose at some point it just... fell through the cracks. Until it was too late." Genuine embarrassment colored his next words. "To be quite frank, I wasn''t even aware their son was still in Ashford. He never stepped forward..."


    "How could you not know?" Neiva''s voice rose with renewed fury, making Ruel flinch. Even Angelo tensed at her outburst while Red''s soft chuckle floated from his corner. "Wasn''t he practically a celebrity here?"


    The argument was interrupted by Jenette''s arrival, a loaded tea tray balanced carefully in her hands. "My goodness," she said, her warm voice carrying genuine concern. "Why all the excitement, dear?"


    Bob seized the distraction like a lifeline. "Say, Jenette," he began, drawing his wife''s attention. "Do you recognize that young man?" He gestured toward Angelo.


    She pressed one hand to her cheek, studying Angelo with careful consideration. "I''m sorry, but I can''t say that I do."


    "I''m Angelo," he offered quietly. "Most people knew me as Harry''s rival. You remember Harry, right?"


    Recognition lit her features. "Oh! Yes, of course! My grandson is from your generation - he used to talk about you. The whole town buzzed about you for quite a while." She cleared her throat delicately. "Though I must admit, not all the talk was pleasant."


    Bob and Ruel''s eyebrows rose in unison as they studied Angelo with renewed interest. "Did they now?" Bob asked his wife. "What exactly did they say? Seems I was out of the loop."


    "Oh Bob, you''re getting so forgetful," Jenette waved off his question. "There were wild rumors about him being able to split himself somehow. But you can''t believe every story that flies around town."


    The room fell into loaded silence as Bob and Ruel''s gazes drifted to Red, whose grin only widened. Jenette, following their looks, finally noticed him leaning against the wall. Red offered a casual two-fingered salute. "Yo, how you doing?"


    The three locals blinked in perfect synchronization while Neiva and Angelo exchanged worried glances. To everyone''s surprise, Jenette simply asked, "So the rumors were true?" Her eyes bounced between Angelo and his duplicate with calm curiosity.


    "But you said they were intimidation tactics!" Ruel burst out. "Part of your powers!"


    "What did you want me to say?" Angelo shot back, frustration finally breaking through his composure. "How else could I explain why there were more of me? I needed you to believe I was an only child - which is true!"


    "Give it a rest, Roll," Bob attempted to defuse the situation. "No harm''s done."


    "It''s RUEL!" The correction carried more bite than the situation warranted. "And this is your fault! What happens now? I invested significant company funds into that property and construction. I can''t just write that off!"


    Bob''s shoulders slumped as the weight of the situation settled over him. But before he could respond, Angelo rose to his feet.


    "Don''t worry about it, sir," he said, his voice carrying quiet resignation. "You bought the house fair and square. I share some of the responsibility here." His next words carried the weight of years of questions. "Right now, I just want to learn more about my parents. That''s all that matters."


    A heavy silence settled over the room until Neiva turned to Bob with renewed intensity. "You seem awfully connected to all this," she said, studying his weathered features. "Why did you have the right to sell the property in the first place?"You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Bob shifted in his chair, joints creaking like old wood. "I''m the head of construction projects here in Ashford - have been for twenty-seven years now." A wry smile crossed his face. "You could say this job''s my second wife!"


    "I heard that," Jenette''s disapproving look could have frozen water.


    Neiva sat up straighter, excitement lighting her features. "Wait - so you oversaw the labs'' construction in Ashford''s school?"


    Bob studied her eager expression with careful consideration. "Yes, though that''s hardly a secret around here. After so many years, most students know who I am and what I do."


    "Why am I not surprised Angelo didn''t?" Neiva shot Angelo a look that somehow managed to be both fiery and glacial. He quickly averted his gaze, though Red''s shared vision meant he couldn''t completely escape her terrifying expression.


    "Why do you ask, dear?" Jenette interjected, trying to soften the tension.


    "Right," Neiva snapped back to focus. "Were you also commissioned to build the lab in Angelo''s house basement?"


    The question made Angelo tense, a reaction he could feel echoing through Red and Blue''s shared consciousness.


    "''Fraid not, lass," Bob said, crossing his arms. Angelo felt his hopes sink, until Bob continued: "However..." The single word drew Angelo''s attention like a lifeline. "That lab was the most peculiar thing. Both house and lab were constructed before the Ashworths even moved in - by an Infernian construction company."


    The revelation landed like a physical weight. Neiva''s mind visibly raced. "But- But wouldn''t they need special permits to build in Luminia?"


    "Indeed they did," Bob confirmed. "Took months before the paperwork came through. I could hardly believe it myself - a foreign construction company building a house with a lab? In Ashford of all places? And Infernian at that?" He shook his head at the memory. "But the papers were legitimate, signed by all the higher-ups. All I could do was play along."


    "What was the company called?" The question burst from Angelo with desperate intensity.


    "InferBuilds Constructions."


    The name seemed to seal something in the air. Red finally straightened from his wall, his usual grin taking on a sharper edge. "Guess we''ve got to pay them a visit. Unless you''d rather send an angry email?" His laugh carried bitter amusement.


    "I don''t know, Red..." Angelo''s gaze dropped to the floor. "Going to Infernia? After what those terrorists did in Novaria?"


    The tension thickened until Blue materialized beside Angelo, his scholarly presence a stark contrast to Red''s barely contained energy. "Those were the Sundering Flames - a group even Infernia officially condemns as terrorists. We shouldn''t judge an entire region by the actions of a few."


    Bob nodded appreciatively at Blue''s perspective, but Red''s scoff cut through any agreement. "Bitch please. Everyone knows that group has government backing. Even I know that, blueberry."


    "Young man!" Jenette''s sharp rebuke made Red actually flinch. "That is very foul language!"


    "Sorry," Red muttered, looking as surprised by his own response as everyone else.


    Angelo sighed, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. "I just don''t understand why they hate Luminians so much - enough to commit such acts."


    "It''s a complicated matter," Bob''s voice carried the weight of old knowledge.


    "Oh?" Angelo''s response came out more hostile than intended. "You know something, old man?"


    "Angelo!" Neiva''s sharp reprimand could have cut steel. "That''s no way to speak to your elders! Their life experience carries wisdom - show some respect!"


    "Tsk, Whatever," Angelo muttered, though shame colored the dismissal.


    "No offense taken, lad," Bob''s gentle response carried understanding. "And yes, I do know something - not just from my years, but because my mother, rest her soul, she came here from Infernia." The revelation instantly captured Angelo''s attention, his earlier rudeness forgotten in the face of potential answers. "I once asked her that very same question."


    "Ever heard of the Hundred Year War?" Bob asked, settling deeper into his chair. Angelo shook his head.


    "Great, a history lesson..." Red''s scoff from the corner went deliberately ignored.


    "Back then, Infernia was ruled by its royal family," Bob began, his voice taking on the practiced tone of someone sharing oft-told tales. "Not like today, where they''re mostly symbolic figures - wealthy ones, mind you. No, back then they held absolute power. But a new faction rose up, one that believed power belonged to the people, not monarchs." He paused, letting the weight of what came next settle. "Soon enough, the region plunged into civil war."


    The distant sounds of festival celebration filtered through the windows as Bob continued. "Many Infernians who wanted no part in either side fled to other regions. The conflict raged for nearly a century until Lu-Min stepped in - a Legendary Auron who wasn''t even Infernian herself."


    "Wait, what?" Neiva straightened, genuine shock crossing her features. "She wasn''t Infernian?"


    "No - she was Zhypherian." Bob''s words carried grim significance. "And she didn''t just intervene - she took sides against the monarchy. Created Luminia for the faction she supported." His weathered hands clasped together. "The Infernians called that day ''The Sundering.'' After the war, many who''d fled tried returning home. But their own people saw them as cowards who''d run from trouble only to return when things settled. Turned away with nowhere to go, they found welcome in the newly formed Luminia." He spread his hands. "And here we are, 104 years later..."


    "I never knew this was Infernia''s side of the story," Neiva murmured, her earlier fire dimmed by understanding.


    "It doesn''t matter," Angelo''s bitter response cut through the thoughtful silence. "They have no right to terrorize people over ancient history."


    "Indeed." Blue''s measured tones carried philosophical weight. "But as I told you before - the world isn''t black and white. What seems right to one side often feels wrong to another. Sometimes there is no absolute ''right'' answer, because none exists."


    "Right then!" Bob clapped his hands, dispersing the heavy atmosphere. "Think that''s enough heavy talk for one day. Listen, lad - let me make some calls, see if I can''t make this right somehow. Come back tomorrow and we''ll see what I''ve managed to dig up."


    "I''d like to help too," Ruel spoke up, his earlier hostility completely gone. "I feel terrible about my part in all this."


    Angelo blinked, caught off guard. "You, Mr. Ruel?"


    "Yes - I''m CEO of Swords & Shields Incorporated. We manufacture Auron weapons and armor."


    "So that''s how you afforded such a mansion!" Neiva''s eyes sparkled at the prospect of potential gifts.


    Angelo''s skepticism dripped from every word: "Really? Armor and weapons that can actually withstand Auron combat?"


    "Of- of course they can!" Ruel''s defensive response made him flush. He took a breath, composing himself. "Sorry. Yes, they absolutely can. We use a rare metal called ''Auranium'' - it activates when exposed to Auron auras. Hardest, sharpest steel in existence."


    Red leaned forward mockingly. "Come on - ''Auranium''? That''s the silliest name I''ve ever-"


    "I didn''t name it!" Ruel shot back. "But I am serious about its capabilities!"


    "I''ll... consider it," Angelo managed, clearly overwhelmed by the sudden generosity. "Thank you for everything, Mr. Bob. I''ll return tomorrow."


    "Nothing to it, lad. For now, go enjoy the festival!" Bob''s gesture encompassed the celebration sounds drifting through his windows.


    Ruel pressed a business card into Angelo''s hand before they said their goodbyes. The evening air carried the mingled scents of festival food and autumn leaves as they stepped outside, letting the parade''s energetic atmosphere wash away the weight of revelations.


    Colorful lanterns painted the crowd in shifting patterns while performers danced through streets transformed by decorations. For a moment, it seemed they might actually relax - until Red''s voice cut through their temporary peace:


    "Hey, isn''t that Lin? Harry''s mom?" His predatory grin stretched wider. "Come on, Angelo - I''ve got to see Harry''s face when he realizes we''ve evolved!"


    Before anyone could stop him, Red was already pushing through the crowd, carving a path straight toward the elegant woman in the distance. Angelo''s panic propelled him after his duplicate with Neiva close behind, her confusion forgotten in the urgency of the moment. But even as they pursued Red through the festival chaos, one thought hammered through Angelo''s mind: after all these years, was he really ready to face Harry again?


    The answer would come whether he wanted it or not - Red was already calling out Lin''s name.

 33.2. And The Rest Is History

    The streets of Ashford overflowed with celebration as the New Light Festival parade wound through town. Colorful banners fluttered overhead while delicious aromas wafted from food stalls lining the packed streets. Light Aurons performed overhead, their abilities painting the evening sky in dazzling patterns that drew gasps of wonder from the crowd below. But Angelo couldn''t appreciate any of it ¨C he was too busy chasing after Red''s rapidly disappearing form through the sea of festival-goers.


    "Red, get back here!" Angelo''s voice carried equal parts panic and frustration as he shouldered his way through the crowd. The thought of seeing Harry again after all these years made his stomach twist into knots. Why did Red always have to make everything more difficult?


    Ahead of him, Red weaved through the crowd with predatory grace, completely ignoring the protests of people he squeezed past. His trademark wicked grin only grew wider with each step closer to their old neighborhood.


    Behind Angelo, Neiva did her best to keep up, leaving a trail of breathless apologies in her wake. "Sorry! Excuse me! Coming through!" Her brilliant red hair made her easy to spot as she navigated the human maze, trying not to lose sight of Angelo running ahead.


    The commotion drew the attention of a woman standing at the edge of the crowd ¨C Mrs. Lin, whose eyes widened as she spotted the approaching figure. Her initial alarm at seeing Red''s manic expression quickly shifted to recognition as she noticed Angelo pursuing him. Her hand flew to her mouth in surprise.


    "It couldn''t be..." she whispered, memories flooding back as Red skidded to a stop right in front of her, his grin now impossibly wide.


    "Hey Mrs. Lin!" Red''s casual greeting carried all the innocence of a child who hadn''t just caused chaos through half the festival. "Is Harry around?"


    Mrs. Lin''s gaze darted between Red and the approaching Angelo, pieces clicking into place. "Angelo? No, wait ¨C you must be one of the others he manifests." Understanding dawned in her eyes as Angelo finally caught up, hands on his knees as he caught his breath.


    "Mrs. Lin," Angelo managed between breaths, mortification clear on his face. "I am so sorry about this. Red just spotted you and-"


    "You''re looking for Harry?" she asked gently, something knowing in her expression.


    "Yes!" Red''s enthusiastic response came just as Angelo blurted, "No! Please ignore Red ¨C he specializes in making bad situations worse."


    The air shimmered as Blue materialized beside them, offering a formal bow that seemed oddly fitting despite the chaos. "Mrs. Lin, it''s wonderful to see you again."


    Neiva finally caught up, her confusion evident as she looked between them. "Wait, you know each other?"


    A warm smile touched Mrs. Lin''s lips. "Of course! Angelo and Harry used to spend hours practicing together when they were younger. Those two were inseparable."


    "But..." Neiva''s brow furrowed as she tried to reconcile this with what she knew. "I thought they were rivals who hated each other?"


    Mrs. Lin''s soft chuckle carried years of memories. "Oh, it''s much more complicated than that, dear. Much more complicated indeed."


    The festival lights painted shifting patterns across Mrs. Lin''s face as Red bounced on his heels, unable to contain himself. "So," he pressed, practically vibrating with anticipation, "where''s Harry?"


    A shadow passed across Mrs. Lin''s features before settling into a bittersweet smile. "He''s not around anymore," she said, her eyes distant with memory. "A professional Auron manager heard about his unique abilities and came to scout him. Now Harry''s out there, chasing his dream of becoming a champion." Pride and pain mingled in her voice, making it waver slightly.


    "Oh wow," Neiva breathed, while Red scuffed his boot against the ground, deflating like a punctured balloon. Angelo couldn''t quite hide his relief, his shoulders relaxing fractionally.


    Blue studied Mrs. Lin''s expression with scholarly attention. "You seem... troubled by this development," he observed carefully.


    Mrs. Lin''s fingers twisted together as she stared past the parade, seeing something far beyond the festive crowds. "I am happy for him, truly. There''s not much here in Ashford for someone with his talents. It''s just..." She took a steadying breath. "There''s something else."


    "What''s wrong?" Angelo asked, his usual edge softening with genuine concern.


    "You remember how Harry was," she began, "always keeping everyone at arm''s length."


    "Tell me about it," Angelo muttered, memories of Harry''s increasingly isolated teenage years rising unbidden.


    "I hoped he''d grow out of it eventually." Mrs. Lin''s voice carried the particular pain of a mother watching her child drift away. "But it''s only gotten worse. He barely speaks to me now." Her composure cracked slightly. "I even called his manager once. All he said was ''Harry''s a man of few words'' now."


    Neiva''s face fell with sympathy, but Red''s expression suddenly lit up with dangerous inspiration. "Say, Mrs. Lin," he leaned forward, ignoring the warning looks from the others, "has Harry evolved yet?"


    The unexpected question made Mrs. Lin blink in surprise. "No, he hasn''t. Why do you ask?"


    A predatory grin spread across Red''s face. "Well, we have. And since we''re planning to hit the tournament circuit ourselves..." He cracked his knuckles with theatrical menace. "When we run into him, we''ll use our evolved power to knock some sense into that thick skull of his! Make him realize his mom''s worried sick and he needs to drop this lone wolf act!"


    Something about Red''s aggressive attempt at comfort ¨C complete with exaggerated flexing ¨C broke through Mrs. Lin''s gloom. A genuine laugh escaped her. "Oh, you haven''t changed a bit, have you?"


    "Why mess with perfection?" Red snickered, drawing eye rolls from his counterparts.


    "Just... try not to be too rough with my boy," Mrs. Lin''s maternal concern couldn''t quite hide her amusement. "Though you know how tough he can be."


    "All too well," Blue acknowledged diplomatically.


    "No promises!" Red''s declaration overlapped with Angelo''s more measured "We''ll see what we can do."


    Their synchronized response drew startled looks from both women before laughter rippled through the group, softening the earlier tension. As they exchanged farewells, the festival lights seemed warmer somehow, as if the moment had carved out its own pocket of peace amid the celebration.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "Where to now?" Neiva asked once they''d left Mrs. Lin behind, practically bouncing with curiosity as she fell into step beside Angelo.


    He paused, something distant in his expression as the sounds of the festival faded behind them. "Somewhere special," he said finally. "Maybe even a bit nostalgic."


    Neiva''s eyes lit up with intrigue as they turned toward the forest''s edge, leaving the bright lights and cheerful noise of the festival behind. The trees ahead stood like silent sentinels, their branches swaying gently in the evening breeze as if beckoning them forward into memory''s embrace.


    The forest seemed to hold its breath as they walked, branches reaching like curious fingers through the deepening twilight. Neiva picked her way carefully behind Angelo, wincing as thorns caught at her clothes. When they finally emerged into a clearing, the sight made her forget her scratched arms entirely.


    Moonlight painted the scene in silver, reflecting off a pristine pond that mirrored the star-filled sky above. The water''s surface lay perfectly still, like polished glass set into the earth. Old trees stood around the clearing''s edge, their ancient branches framing the ethereal view.


    "It''s beautiful..." Neiva breathed, drinking in the peaceful scene. Then her eyes narrowed as realization struck. "Hold on ¨C if you knew about this gorgeous spot, why did we camp all the way out there in the thorny wilderness?!"


    Angelo''s shoulders lifted in a casual shrug. "Didn''t want to be too close to town."


    "Finally, some honesty," Red snickered from where he lounged against a tree trunk. "Though that''s not the whole truth, is it?"


    Blue materialized beside them, his scholarly presence somehow fitting the serene setting. "Indeed. Let''s not pretend this is about scenery, Angelo. You''re many things, but sentimental isn''t one of them. This place holds deeper meaning."


    Neiva glanced between them, confusion evident on her face. "What am I missing?"


    Angelo''s eyes remained fixed on the pond, his voice carrying the weight of memory. "This is where we first learned to be... us. When my aura manifested and Red and Blue could finally take physical form, we needed somewhere private to practice. Somewhere away from the town''s prying eyes and whispered rumors."


    Understanding dawned on Neiva''s face as she looked at the clearing with new appreciation. The peaceful surface of the pond seemed to hold echoes of countless training sessions.


    "We discovered our limitations quickly enough," Blue added, his usual analytical tone softening with remembrance. "Being weaker than normal Aurons meant we had to get creative. We focused on evasion rather than direct defense, perfecting our shared vision and coordination through endless practice sessions right here."


    "Then we''re here to..." Neiva''s words trailed off as Angelo strode towards the open space between their group and the pond, the silent invitation clear in every step. His evolved aura exploded outward like captured sunrise, forged energy coalescing into his signature flowing robes. The Angel of Death''s hood cast deep shadows across his face, but his eyes blazed orange with fierce purpose. "Come on, Blue. Time to settle our score from Albert''s."


    "Very well." Blue''s azure aura answered Angelo''s challenge, forged energy crystallizing into elegant armor that covered his joints and limbs. "Though I''ll skip the theatrical costumes ¨C some of us prefer efficiency over dramatics." he commented dryly.


    "Hey!" Red''s protest carried all the indignation of a child denied dessert. "What about me?"


    Neiva couldn''t help but giggle. "Patience, Red. Wait your turn."


    "Don''t patronize me!" Red''s response only made him sound more childish.


    "Sorry Red," Angelo called as his scythe materialized in his grip. "You and I sparred at Albert''s. Tonight''s Blue''s turn." He settled into a combat stance, weapon glowing with barely contained power.


    Red''s voice cracked with frustration. "Maybe YOU should sit this one out! You''ve fought us both ¨C let me and blueberry dance!"


    "Pointless," Blue''s dismissal carried glacial precision as he mirrored Angelo''s ready stance. "Our power merely copies his. We gain nothing from fighting each other."


    Before Red could argue further, Angelo launched forward. His scythe cut through the night air with deadly grace, its blade leaving trails of orange light in its wake as the peaceful clearing transformed into an impromptu arena beneath the watching stars.


    The moonlight turned their battlefield silver as Angelo struck first, his scythe carving a horizontal arc through the night air. Blue bent backward with the grace of a serpent, the blade whistling over his face close enough to stir his hair. In the same fluid motion, his foot snapped up, catching the scythe''s shaft and sending the weapon spinning into the darkness. Each movement flowed like water into the next as he completed his backflip and launched into a counter-attack.


    But Angelo was ready. His evolved aura pulsed, and the ground between them erupted. Four tendrils of forged energy burst forth like angry vipers, their orange light reflecting off the pond''s surface as they slashed at Blue with deadly precision.


    From her spot at the clearing''s edge, Neiva watched in awe as the identical figures clashed. Beside her, Red sat hunched with his arms wrapped around his knees, his usual predatory grin replaced by an expression of pure dejection.


    Blue weaved through the striking tendrils as if dancing between raindrops. With a gesture, he manifested a single massive tendril of his own ¨C thicker than Angelo''s and gleaming azure in the starlight. It shot forward, wrapping around Angelo''s quartet of energy constructs like a constrictor claiming prey. Using the tangle as cover, Blue surged toward his original.


    "Tch." Angelo abandoned control of his ensnared tendrils, choosing instead to dodge Blue''s incoming strikes while maintaining his position with unusual stillness. Every movement was efficient, calculated ¨C and suspicious.


    Blue noticed too late. A faint whistle behind him made him leap skyward just as Angelo''s discarded scythe spun through the space where he''d stood. Angelo snatched the weapon from its arc, using its momentum in a spin motion to launch himself after Blue like a predatory bird taking wing.


    The trap was perfect ¨C Blue hung suspended, unable to dodge in mid-air. He shot two tendrils toward the ground, trying to pull himself to safety, but Angelo''s scythe flashed twice in the moonlight. Blue''s hands separated from his wrists in clean cuts, dissolving into particles of azure light that drifted away like fireflies straight into Angelo.


    Neiva''s horrified gasp cut through the night air. "Oh god!"


    "Don''t get your panties all twisted!" Red''s irritated voice carried none of his usual humor. "They grow back! It''s not like it actually hurts him."


    As if proving Red''s point, Blue landed with his characteristic composure intact. He studied his handless arms, which leaked soft blue light and floating particles, before manifesting new gauntlets of forged energy where his hands had been. His expression remained perfectly stoic.


    "Well done, Angelo," he acknowledged with scholarly approval. "You''ve improved considerably."


    Angelo''s eyes blazed orange beneath his hood. "I''m just getting started."


    They clashed again beneath the stars, their movements a deadly dance of precise strikes and fluid dodges. Every attack flowed into defense, every evasion led to counter-attack. The clearing filled with flashes of orange and azure as their evolved powers painted the night in competing colors.


    An hour later, Angelo''s aura finally flickered and died. He stood bent over, hands on his knees, breathing heavily. Though he hadn''t landed many clean hits on Blue, some did land. His scholarly duplicate had stopped underestimating him after losing his hands.


    "Finally!" Red exploded to his feet, practically vibrating with pent-up energy. "Thought that would never end!"


    "Can we head back now?" Neiva''s voice carried bone-deep exhaustion. "I can barely keep my eyes open."


    "Yeah," Angelo managed between breaths. "Think we''re done here." Blue nodded once before dissolving into azure smoke that streamed back into Angelo''s body.


    "Back to Novaria tomorrow?" Neiva asked through a massive yawn.


    "After we see what Bob turns up," Angelo hedged, not wanting to promise anything. "We''ve learned what we needed from Ashford."


    The walk back to camp passed in exhausted silence. Red radiated sullen energy while Angelo and Neiva could barely put one foot in front of the other. But despite his fatigue, satisfaction warmed Angelo''s chest. He''d held his own against Blue and maintained his evolved state for over an hour ¨C clear progress, even if his muscles screamed in protest.


    As they approached their tents, the looming winter chill made him wonder if anyone could actually sleep well in a sleeping bag. But those concerns felt distant compared to what tomorrow might bring. They had a lead now, even if it pointed to Infernia of all places. And there was Red''s impulsive promise to Mrs. Lin about Harry... though surely an unevolved Auron couldn''t pose much threat to their combined strength?


    Such thoughts would have to wait. Angelo and Neiva crawled into their respective tents, desperate for whatever rest they could find. Tomorrow would bring its own challenges ¨C they''d need every scrap of energy to face them.