Wake up, go to work, go back home, sleep.

  Wake up, go to work, go back home, and sleep.

  This had been Leona’s monotony for three years since joining Angels Guild. Despite her royal status and unique position in the guild, all the “excitement” was either: training, sitting around in expeditions, or politics. Incidents like the Summer Scare were rare, and operations like Sundown were out of her hands. Really, most of her “missions” greased the ever-turning gears of Angels Guild, making sure it wouldn’t collapse in on itself.

  Evenings didn’t fare much better either. While some days she crashed at Chie and Aiden’s apartment or visited little Ariella, afterhours consisted of microwave dinners (that Alexander had constantly told her to throw away), K-dramas, and sleeping on the couch. Sometimes, she would call Auntie and Ki-ha—before that jerk decided to run away from home—to catch up. Rarely, Lyressa would stop by and they’d trade guild secrets over drinks.

  But whenever she felt daring, she prowled the illuminated streets at night, watching men and women her age laugh and have fun and enjoy themselves in the presence of good company and a cold glass. They dressed comfortably and outwardly, in short-shorts and tank-tops, sandals clicking against the pavement in unison with flip-flops, bare legs exposed and chiseled abs glistening from sweat, everyone shoulder-to-shoulder and touching, living as if the night would last forever.

  Then, in the middle of the party was a hunched-back woman shrouded by a dark, baggy hoodie and whose expression was hidden behind a face-mask. Whenever a car passed by, its headlights would reflect off nearby puddles and storefront-windows and briefly reveal her haunting, unflattering figure.

  Three years.

  It’s been three years since Kosmos has recruited her.

  In three years, she should have her life in order: find a career, find out if she wanted a relationship to begin with, find her true purpose as a princess torn between urban and xia. Yet since then, she hadn’t taken a single step.

  Why not return to the Demonic Cult and help find Ki-ha?

  Why not see if Hwarang has a spot on her airship?

  Why not leave Ordo and see where the road takes her?

  Why not try anything else?

  Once we figure out what’s going on with the Alternates, I’ll consider my options, Leo had thought to herself.

  However, God wanted her to stay as an Angel for a little while longer.

  “—Princess. Hey, princess.” Alexander snapped his fingers in front of her face. “This isn’t a stop-watch. If you get hypnotized this easily, you might want to invest in a mental blocker.”

  “Huh?” Leo’s vision focused on the mysterious object dangling inches away from her nose: a steel key.

  Alex rolled his eyes. “The spare key. I’m giving you our spare key.”

  As he (forcibly) placed the key in her palm, Leo asked, “Are you that annoyed with me knocking all the time?”

  “Yes, actually. Saves me the trouble of running to the door.” Alex sighed and was about to open his mouth for yet another insult, but he seemingly noticed something on her face. Dirt, an ugly wrinkle? “You alright, princess?”

  Leo rubbed the key’s sharp ridges against her skin. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “You look out of it, and that’s saying a lot.”

  “It’s six-in-the-morning, lovely, and I had a resounding five hours of on-and-off sleep.”

  “And yet you immediately brought your sorry ass here.”

  This man was so damned annoying sometimes. Six-in-the-morning and he was already playing games; in fact, how was he so damned energetic this early? Was it a morning shower? His hair was damp, a few wet locks hung over his eyes, and a faint scent of pine-scented shampoo followed him. He looked messy but not six-A.M.-messy. It was front-page-of-a-magazine messy. Compared to her? Leo actually looked like the hour. She had shuffled into their apartment in embarrassing pajamas while this asshole had plain sweatpants and a shirt—in fact, the shirt was taut enough that if Alex twisted his torso or shoulders, his muscles would show through…

  He really was too handsome for his personality.

  Alex cleared his throat, crossing his arms. “I think you need a few more hours on the mattress."

  Leo scowled, slipping the spare key inside a random pocket. “And you need to retire early.”

  “Don't threaten me with a good time.” Alex brushed past her and headed toward the kitchen. “Sit tight while I fix breakfast. The others will be up soon.”

  “Aren’t you gonna ask if I want breakfast?” Leo said as the cook retreated into his lair.

  “You come here everyday for free food, princess. That’s also why we had a spare key made.” The sounds of fluttering drawers, cabinets, and pans filled the space. “I know you aren’t here for my charming personality. Can’t say I blame you. Better this than the microwave slop infesting your freezer.”

  Is that what you think? Leo bit her lip, feeling the key shift around inside her pocket. That I’m just here to mooch off you?

  “You don’t have to cook for me, y’know—”

  “You’re here, you’re eating,” Alex said authoritatively. “Law of the chef, no buts.”

  “Alex—”

  “Save the argument for later, princess. Relax a little bit, sleep on the couch, do whatever. You're the queen here.”

  That… Ugh, why do you always have to be a dick all of the time? There’s no use breaking through his thick skull. Not like she had the energy to fight this early in the morning anyway. So, being the parasite she was, she sat on the couch, turned on the morning news, and waited for everybody else to wake up.

  ***

  “Thea, there you are, I’ve been meaning to—what’s going on?”

  It was a pleasant surprise seeing Althea in Chie's workshop, but surprise quickly turned to concern as a scary-looking magick pistol sat on a table in front of her. Surrounding the pistol was multiple high-grade attachments that Leo couldn't readily name, the whole set-up likely worth more than a car. While Leo wasn't updated on the team's current [Loadout] needs, this scene had "Overseer" written over it.

  On the couch, Thea had her hands pressed together like a philosopher. “I’m seeing if I can use my telekinetic powers to piece everything together. It’s not working.”

  “As if you need more superpowers, sweetheart.”

  Thea frowned. "Whatever. This is officially a part of my [Loadout]. According to Overseer, the [Constante MB] is ‘one of the finest irons manufactured by a leader in magick weapon systems.’ But that’s not all! He brought a shitton of attachments, dumped everything at my feet, and told me to figure it out.”

  Leo giggled to herself. “That sounds like him.”

  “He hates his niece sometimes, I swear.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” Looking over the table, Leo somewhat saw the vision: a fully customized magick pistol that would make gun-nuts turn over in envy and anti-gun advocates collapse from cardiac arrest. Leo herself wasn't involved with the culture or any of the surrounding discourse. Most of her knowledge either came from online forums or action movies, so the intricacies of "magic weapon systems" were lost on her.

  On that subject, though, Leo "fondly" recalled when Alex had effortlessly summoned a [Rifle], a [Pistol], and a [Shotgun] in a single night.

  She asked, “Did Overseer get jealous of your brother’s [Mementos]?”

  “Take a wild guess.” Thea picked up the base pistol, kept the barrel down-low, and looked down the sights all with impeccable posture despite her age. “He thought I needed ‘ranged capability’ alongside my ‘close quarters tools’ which is reportedly coming soon.”

  As if she needed more “capability” in her arsenal. Despite being newly-[Registered] Slayers, the Shens had combat skills that far exceeded their competitors. Although they had SSS-Rank [Skills], those [Skills] would be half as effective without right training. They had that training. They could handle iron like professional assassins, they could hold swords like master fencers, they could remain poised and rational under extreme conditions. Their capabilities were fucking scary to think about.

  Leo exhaled to get rid of her jitters then sat on the couch's arm. “You won't be the only student with expensive toys. During my enrollment, everybody either had a family heirloom or a signature crafted by a master artisan."

  “But no amount of money can teach ‘em how to really use it.” Thea magically produced the owner's manual to the [Constante MB] and skimmed through the material. “Whatcha need me for, anyways?”

  Right, I almost forgot. Wish I could forget. “I wanted your thoughts on something. Do you… Do you think I’m being a bother?”

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Thea stopped reading and looked up. “Like… What d’you mean by that?”

  So she hasn’t thought about it. I didn’t think she would considering she had bigger problems. “I’m always at your place. It got to a point that Alex graciously awarded me with the spare key, and you know how he is. Nothing’s quick-and-easy with him. He always has to throw in a subtle jab, and ugh, he can't fucking turn off his mouth sometimes.”

  The sister of that asshole nodded a few times. “Lemme guess, one of his jabs got through?”

  Leo sighed. Better to admit defeat to the lovelier Shen than the other one. “Maybe. Am I overthinking things? Your brother’s annoyingly sarcastic. I can’t get a read on his true thoughts.”

  “Imagine how it feels living with him,” Thea said, laughing, “but it’s not completely hopeless. After a while, you begin to understand his Alex-isms, y’get what I mean?”

  “Somewhat.”

  “I mean, there’s a reason why Vic, Kotone, and Chunhua are still good friends with him. He has his own way of showing he has a heart.”

  “Clearly, but having a defined learning curve just to understand this asshole is a little much.”

  “Everybody has a learning curve, Leo. Just ‘cause some people are initially easier to understand, it doesn’t mean they’re better, y’know?” Thea emptily chuckled, likely recalling some examples. “Look, I know I shit-talk my brother all the fuckin’ time, but he’s not stupid. If he has a problem, he’ll tell you outright. If he really has a problem, he’ll punch you. As long as you meet him halfway—preferably without throwing hands—he’ll do the same.”

  Well, he did patch things up with his sister after their shopping spree fiasco. He was...better at conversations than Leo had thought. Compared to the numerous times he'd aggravated Leo or someone else, though, a different man was talking to Althea that day. That was why this damned dick was so confusing. Which Alexander would she talk to today? Which Alexander would greet her tomorrow?

  ***

  “Is this everything?” Leo asked, setting the last box down in Alistair’s official office in the Wings. Due to his position as the Commander of the Special Task Force, his office was located on the top floor with the Office of the Guild Masters. Quite the illustrious position. Pretty much every big-name sword and corpo would kill to have his spot.

  Ali nodded, already unpacking. “Thank you, Leo. I appreciate the help.”

  “No problem, but just to let you know…” Around her legs were numerous unmarked boxes, and she was afraid that kicking them in the wrong spot may result in an accidental terrorist attack. “It’s against guild policy to house unregistered firearms. In fact, it’s against the law but that’s less important.”

  “I have papers,” Ali answered curtly.

  That doesn’t help me at all! “...As long as you know what you’re doing. It’d be a shame if our first controversy comes from Overseer.”

  “It’ll make for a hilarious story.” Ali moved boxes without a care in the world.

  This family… His nephew was chronically afflicted with sarcasm, his niece was going to be a spy in a couple months, and he himself was abnormally comfortable with working with some of the strongest Slayers in the world.

  Auntie did say to keep an eye on the entire family. Although the Shens had disclosed the circumstances surrounding their mother’s birth, it wasn’t the only family mystery. What techniques were Alex and Althea learning? Who truly was Alistair Romanos? Not even his history as MARSOC could explain everything. Hell, how were they involved in Oasisgate? These were some of the questions, and while Leo was curious, dangerous questions meant dangerous answers that she didn't feel prepared for.

  But Auntie was privy to their secrets, alongside the GMs too. If she was fine with them, then Leo was fine. Mostly. For now, anyway. Like everyone else in the team, they would learn each other's secrets in due time.

  “...Heh.” Ali was holding a picture-frame in his hands: a photo of Alexander and Althea when they were kids, taken on the doorsteps of their old home in America.

  Leo focused on the would-be asshole. Judging from his age, about seven or eight years after the photo was first taken, the world would snatch the glowing innocence from his eyes—but that damned smile captured her. Even a guy like him could smile like that, huh? After all this time, after everything he'd been through, did he still have that smile?

  Ali set the photo down. “I’ve never seen Alex happier.”

  “Huh? Are we talking about the same person? I mean, he finally figured out what he wants to do, but—"

  “I’m talking about you, Leo. Whenever you enter the room, he’s often the first one to take notice.”

  Well, if that didn’t make her blush a little bit. “I don't think our 'relationship' reached that far yet; hell, it won't reach that far. Our [Memento] is barely developed.”

  “You’re right, but Alex ‘tolerates’ you more than you think. You gave our family a genuine second chance, after all.”

  It’s hard to believe that when he's more on-and-off like a light-switch. “What does that mean for him, though? More insults and petty arguments?”

  Ali chuckled and shook his head. “No, my nephew lives by many mottos. One of them is: ‘Leave nothing unsaid or undone.’ Considering you gave him a future to believe in, you have his eternal gratitude. He’ll make sure you know—in his own unique way, of course.”

  And what does that look like? “I-I don’t think I did that much for your family. I’m glad you all feel the same way, but Seraph and Rector deserve the credit.”

  “But you got the ball rolling. You offered your home when we needed one the most. You connected us with Cheonma to finally resolve my biggest worry. You came even with the threat of internationals. And I know you’ll continue to be there every step of the way.”

  Leo was quiet. What could she say here?

  “Alex isn’t the only one grateful. We all are. As your commander, I hope to live up to your expectations. Though, I suspect I’m breaking them in the worst ways.” Despite himself, Ali laughed.

  This family, seriously…

  ***

  Before Leo knew it, evening came around the horizon. It was another ordinary day in the Shens household. Althea and Ali were talking about the [Constante MB] in the living room while the man of the hour had, once again, secluded himself in the kitchen. Music played on the speakers, a cooking playlist that Thea had put together so he could "listen to heat while he was cooking with fire," whatever the heck that meant.

  After today’s interesting conversations, the only way to untangle the knot in her stomach was through words. Awkward, embarrassing words. Every opener she'd devised had failed in her mental simulations, with the result leaving someone bleeding out on the floor. After a certain point, she gave up and decided on the alternative: improv.

  So, when her heart was barely ready, she strolled into the kitchen and saw Conqueror himself conquering vegetables (that was a bad joke, God).

  Alex glanced sideways. “Princess, I was just thinking about calling you over.”

  Leo raised an eyebrow. “Did I do something?”

  “Not this time. Just wanted to talk about Vic and his brother.” After chopping some veggies, they took a bath in the pan bubbling on the stove. “I want your thoughts: is the stress from the Special Task Force driving me insane, or is there something seriously off about Ethan?"

  “I…” Bravo, you continue to astound me. “I haven’t met him, but by how you told the story, I personally think he’s conducting off-the-book ops like smuggling drugs or weapons to underground militia groups.”

  “Might be. You never know in this world.” Alex laid the knife down and started washing his hands.

  There was a lull in the conversation.

  The bubbling pan was an annoying clock telling her to hurry up.

  Leo gulped and scratched at her arm. Despite her anxiety, this was—funnily enough—nothing compared to when they'd first fought back at Primordial Plaza. That ironic thought gave her enough courage to lean against the counter, elbow brushing against the cold steel of the sink.

  Alex turned the sink off and dried his hands with a nearby towel, his silver eyes looking up-and-down at his princess. “What’s wrong? You’re looking at me like I did something.”

  Was it that obvious? “I, uh, I wanted to talk for a little bit. About us.”

  Concern marked him, but he kept quiet.

  “Am I… Am I being too intrusive?” she asked, the act harder than driving a blade through a man’s stomach. “You’re always doing something for me: cooking, brewing coffee, fixing meals. It feels like I’m taking advantage of your generosity, and I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want you to resent me. So if there’s anything I can do—” (“Leo.”) “—help pay for groceries—” (“Leo.”) “—or clean—”

  “Leo!” Alex raised his voice enough to stop her. “Is it because of this morning?”

  She didn’t verbally confirm it, but she didn’t verbally deny it either.

  Alex amusingly huffed and rested his arms on the countertop. “Should’ve figured, heh. It wasn’t my intention to put you down like that. You aren’t a burden. You’re the opposite.”

  Leo blew hot air at the thought. “With us arguing at the table every night?”

  “It’s better than listening to my sister drone about K-pop idols or how much she wants to burn down the White House,” he said, and Leo laughed at him. “Hey, I mean it. I cook for you because I want to. I gave you the spare key because I want you to burst in and track mud over the floor. Everyday, there’ll be a fourth chair at the table because I made dinner for four, not three. It’s yours, until you grow sick and tired of us.”

  This… Her head was swimming wildly without recourse. This asshole…

  “I still feel bad—”

  “Don’t be. I don’t care.”

  “But I do, so let me help. I want to help, until you inevitably throw my chair off the balcony-railing out of frustration.”

  “That right? You’re…” Alex smiled. It was a smile that resembled the boy in Alistair’s photo, before the cruelty of the world had stolen so many things from him. Yet even today, his smile was just as precious, and gorgeous, and comforting believe it or not, like a warm fire set between stones, casting away darkness and the cold.

  Alexander finished his thought.

  “You’re such a dork, princess.”

  In that moment, the pieces of Alexander Shen began drifting together as though magnets inside her mind. The Alex-isms, the sarcasm, his heart and his tongue, everything.

  You’re... Althea and Ali were right: you're much, much sweeter than you let on.

  “If you insist on helping,” Alex said, thumbing to the pot on the stove. “I need a taste-tester.”

  “Heh.” I could get used to this. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  *

  [Your connection with Leona Ryu has grown deeper.]

  *

  Solitary Demonblade

  Rank D

  Holder: Leona Ryu

  Memento Type: Sword

  Description: The [Memento] of your colleague and unwitting roommate, Leona Ryu. She brought you into Angels Guild and helped your family that’s almost impossible to repay. Perhaps you don’t need to reconcile the debt, however. As long as she’s in your company and you in hers, life in the ivory tower might not be so insufferable.

  Special Effect: N/A