The flash of light faded, and Cornelius reappeared at the steps of Luminaris, Dusk standing stiffly a few feet behind him. The grand white palace gleamed under the midday sky. The clouds curled around the structure's base.

  Dusk looked around slowly, taking it all in without a word. His dark wings flexed slightly behind him, the blackened tips of his feathers a sharp contrast against the polished world they had returned to.

  Michael and Faith, adjusting the runes near the palace entrance, turned at the sound of Cornelius’s return. Their expressions shifted quickly from curiosity to something more cautious as they laid eyes on Dusk.

  Michael stepped forward first, posture formal. "Sir," he said to Cornelius, "I see you've returned with... Dusk."

  Faith stayed a few steps behind her brother, glancing warily at Dusk. Her wings twitched at her sides, an unconscious gesture of discomfort.

  Cornelius waved his hand casually, as if brushing away the tension. "Everyone, you’ve heard of Dusk. He's officially our first angel to join the kingdom."

  Dusk gave a slow, shallow nod.

  Michael cleared his throat. "Welcome, Angel of Death," he said, polite but stiff. "Forgive us if we're... unfamiliar with your methods."

  Dusk didn’t answer immediately. He tilted his head slightly, studying the Seraphs. After a long moment, he said quietly, "Don't worry. I’m just here to serve the realm. Not to ruin it."

  Faith tried to soften the atmosphere with a smile, though it looked a little forced. "You'll find plenty of purpose here. Heaven is... flexible."

  Cornelius clapped his hands together. "See? Harmony already!" he said, grinning.

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  Faith gave him a side-eye look that said otherwise.

  Dusk shifted his wings again. "It’s very bright here," he said flatly.

  Cornelius chuckled. "You’ll get used to it. Or you'll complain forever. Either way, you’re stuck with us."

  Dusk gave a low grunt that might have been a laugh, or might have been pure resignation.

  Faith leaned slightly toward Michael, whispering, "How long do you think until the gloom spreads?"

  Michael smirked and whispered back, "I give it a week."

  Cornelius pretended not to hear, already leading Dusk toward the main hall.

  Cornelius paused halfway up the stairs, glancing back at Dusk with a flat expression. "Well, make yourself at home," he said casually, "This is where you will reside, right in the palace with me! Oh, but you can retreat to your caverns whenever you’d like."

  Dusk stared at him blankly. "How nice of you," he said without a hint of emotion.

  Cornelius grinned, apparently taking that as a compliment. "I'm off to find Flora somewhere in this massive realm. Wish me luck."

  Before Dusk could reply, Cornelius activated his teleportation spell. A flash of white light filled the hall, leaving Dusk blinking and mildly irritated.

  With a slow sigh, Dusk turned and opened the door to his assigned room. He immediately froze in the doorway. His hand loosened, and his skull mask nearly slipped off his face.

  The room was nothing like the palace halls. Instead, it was dark and heavy, gothic in every sense. Thick black drapes covered the windows, blocking the outside light. Silver accents marked across the deep grey stone walls. Small candles flickered along the edges of the room, their soft flames casting restless shadows. The bed at the center was enormous, draped in black and silver fabric, its headboard carved with celestial runes meant for good sleep.

  He moved toward the bed and carefully placed his skull mask on the nightstand. As he did, he noticed something else.

  A small, black-feathered quill and a thick journal bound in dark leather sat neatly beside the mask. Dusk understood immediately. Cornelius had left it for him.

  Maybe he thought Dusk would need somewhere to put everything he didn’t say aloud. Perhaps it was just a clumsy attempt at kindness. Dusk stared at the journal for a long moment before reaching out and brushing his fingers over the rough cover.

  He sat heavily on the edge of the bed, the candles' light flickering over his expressionless face.

  Dusk’s wings folded tightly against his back. "Home," he muttered under his breath, voice dry.

  It was something. And for now, that would have to be enough.