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—" 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—"
"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—"
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 – 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.
"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—" 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 month. 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 month 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.