I’m still stuck on the damned bench… Althea fumed, sitting on the couch with her knees almost pressing against her mouth. Bandages and band-aids covered half of her, and they made it a real bitch to move around in. Despite that, she wasn’t focused on her discomfort or the general pain she was in—besides, that was ninety-percent of her existence. Her eyes were instead glued to the TV which played the nightly news of the latest drama in the Slayer Capital. The headline tonight? Fucking, the internationals making a royal mess of the investigation.

  Crazy. The news used to be about the breachers and the flaws in spatial regulations; then, everyone switched to bashing the internationals. Well, not like anyone needs much of a reason to do the last part. Thea never needed an excuse.

  As much as she wanted to throw tomatoes at the screen, there was a bigger fight ahead of them. The Mother.

  Alex and the others were at Sophos’s facility doing God-knows-what, trying to put an end to this fucking thing once and for all. This would be, what, the third historical event that the Shens lived through? Cue Alex lamenting their bad luck.

  But…

  Recent memories of their desperate brawl resurfaced. Alex’s head was in a different place for nearly the entire fight and understandably so. Of the siblings, he was the “sensitive” one like Dad. Funny, wasn’t it? With his handsome face and big muscles, he often got caught up in his own feelings. Still…

  You changed. Althea let her forehead tap against her knees. Your [Wings] sparkled, and you had light in your eyes. Guess even my miserable, dipshit of a brother can make that kind of face. Good. ‘Bout time you decided to do something for yourself. All it took was nearly getting killed by Mom and Dad.

  Meanwhile, Thea didn’t exactly have a big emotional breakthrough. Really, what she felt was…

  She grinded her teeth and clenched her fists.

  You’re right, though, Alex. The world doesn’t want us to be happy, but it has nothing to do with ‘fate.’ It’s the people. It’s the institutions. Because one lazy asshole decided to shirk his duty, an outbreak happened. Because some fucking bureaucrats and corpos shook hands, regulations became a suggestion. Hell, after seeing Oasis Guild and their baggage… Don’t you have some part of yourself that just, I dunno, want to break absolutely fucking everything? It’s their fault, y’know. They have names and faces, so why not use our hands for something productive for once?

  “Thea.” Uncle Ali patted the back of the couch, getting her attention. He looked way worse than she did, but all the gauze and medication didn’t seem to faze him. “Are you alright?”

  Thea extended her legs, letting her knees pop. She shrugged. “I’m alive.”

  Uncle sat on the opposite end of her. “Bad question, I know. Cheonma finally released me from our impromptu meeting.”

  “Heh.” In the short span of a month, the Shens went from fearing her name to being her best friend. Thea said, “Everything’s cool with her?”

  “Along those lines.” Uncle pushed his spare glasses up, idly watching a news panel give their opinions on the internationals’ actions. “Cheonma wanted to know the team’s status; well, her niece’s more specifically. She’d already gotten the sitrep from Seraph, but—”

  “She wanted a second opinion from a washed-up rifle? Like he’s just as important as the queen of Ordo?” Thea smirked.

  Uncle uncharacteristically reflected a half-smile. “She’s the head of the Demonic Cult for a reason. Speaking of rifles, though, I’m a little annoyed that my equipment is in the internationals’ hands.” (“What’s left of ‘em…”) “Still.”

  “You’re an Angel now. You got new connections.”

  “We’ll see. I only have…” Uncle began counting with his fingers and whispering items off. He needed two hands to count the rest of his arsenal. Yeah, he’ll be fine. He was the kind of guy who practiced over-preparation to a concerning, probably mentally deranged degree.

  Thea sighed and tried to pay attention to the news, but did she give a single shit about the panel? No. They were all middle-aged and college-educated “experts” who got their jobs thanks to nepotism. Media had been dead for a long time, but they provided a decent window into the public's and the elites' opinions.

  “Althea,” Uncle called her again, his usual concern written over his eyes. “Are you actually okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” Aside from my new scars. “We fought breachers—”

  “They were your parents.”

  “Mom and Dad are dead.” They’d been dead for a long time. “I’m not gonna let myself get hung up over ghosts.”

  And like the bitch she was, the conversation stopped.

  Uncle knew he lacked an avenue to her fucked-up psyche, so he gave up. Neither of them had the energy for a deep conversation. Instead, he slowly nodded and said, “If you say so.”

  Thea nodded back. “Yeah, heh, I’m more worried about Alex. We couldn’t talk to him before Problem whisked him away to Sophos. I wanted to ask him ‘bout his new [Mementos].” About Mom and Dad. “And, y’know, what the fuck Sophos meant by the mastermind-thing.”

  “Be patient. Right now…” Uncle checked his watch. “They’re likely preparing the last few steps—”

  A blue screen opened before Althea.

  [CALLER: Conqueror]

  ***

  “I didn’t expect you to accept my invitation for tea…” Jin Tianyou rolled a Chinese cookie between his fingers. “Silverhonor.”

  Lyressa preferred to limit her contact with Jin Tianyou as much as humanly possible, but these were special times. With the fracturing internationals, the current landscape of Ordo was—how should she put it?—volatile, and it was best to know the players still on the board. While Glory planned to sit on their hands, a few opponents might force them to act.

  Such as this man, the frightening and unpredictable Jin Tianyou. He’d yearned for Glory Guild’s company which was how Lyressa found herself on a private balcony in Martials Guild HQ. From their lofty seats, the city had gifted them a stunning view of its urban vistas. The golden and white lights were stars beneath their feet, dazzling, glittering—but the wind was cold and the prince’s gaze was colder.

  Lyressa gulped, the taste of earthy tea on her tongue. “I’m assuming we won’t discuss the schedule for our respective try-outs? I do find it odd that your father’s mysteriously absent during such an important event.”

  “His obligations in our sect are much more important.” Jin Tianyou bit half his cookie, the snap crisp like a broken bone. “You’re correct, though. With the recent activity across the city, I wanted to gauge your thoughts in particular.”

  “My thoughts?” Why not Louis’s? Or anyone else for that matter? “If you’re mining for answers regarding the—”

  Jin Tianyou loudly ate the rest of his cookie, the crunch grating to her ears. He quickly finished chewing, politely swallowed, and sipped his tea. “Your thoughts, Silverhonor. After all, you were missing for the past two days—”

  “I had suddenly fallen ill,” Lyressa lied. That was the cover story.

  Yet the cultivator had an empty smile. “Will you stay at Glory Guild?”

  “Pardon?”

  His smile widened enough to reveal his sharp white teeth. “You were close to recovering your memories.”

  What—? Impossible, he couldn’t have known anything about my disappearance. Blackviper is on vacation; he couldn’t have used her. Lyressa remained silent, gripping her pants. Must she always feel like prey whenever she sat down at a table?

  Jin Tianyou tapped a single finger against the edge of the table, watching his own reflection in his teacup. The tapping was rhythmic to a song only he knew. “This was an opportunity afforded to you by Angels and Wisdom Guild. If another comes in the near future, would you seize the moment?”

  That… She hadn’t thought about that before. Yes, Seraph and Sophos had inadverntly given her a chance—albeit a foolish one—to uncover the past Lyressa. To join them, though? And leave Louis behind after everything he’d done for her? Yet if she was to ever regain her memories, then…

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Jin Tianyou really is a demon. Lyressa sat straighter, scowling. “What are you trying to suggest, Vice Guild Master?”

  “It would be in your best interest.” Jin Tianyou lifted his cup and sipped, humming at the delightful taste. “Especially if you join that team. Seraph and Rector are no strangers at providing a home for fascinating individuals.”

  That was well-obvious. Louis and Cyrus had always been skeptical about Sage and Firebrand’s employment. For Leona, Angels provided protection against the dangers of the Jianghu. Problem? It likely involved his missing mentor, Master Alzahrani. There was Rei as well, another mystery. Then, last but not least were the Shens: Alexander, Althea, and their uncle Alistair.

  Angels offered them all something in exchange for their labor other than a paycheck or followers on social media.

  If Lyressa did join, she wouldn’t be out-of-place. If anyone else had brought up this idea, she’d have good faith in their judgment.

  But it was this damned cultivator.

  Lyressa bit her lip, feeling her ears wiggle. “Is this where you suggest I join you instead—?”

  “No, Martials don’t have the resources nor connections to help you,” he shortly admitted.

  “Then why? Why make such an outlandish suggestion?”

  “It should be obvious.” Jin Tianyou held his cup toward the crescent moon, and his smile seemed more human. “The city will undergo a dramatic change. Sometimes, instead of resisting the rushing waters, it’s best to ‘go with the flow’ as they say.”

  A change—? “What do you mean? The political ramifications of the crisis aren’t that devastating—”

  “I haven’t mentioned the internationals nor politics.”

  “Then, what—?” Lyressa stopped, and she felt her ears dropping. “The Shens. You're speaking about the Shens.”

  He set his cup down. “I am. Within a few years, the entire world will know their names. Perhaps Alexander—and his sister as well—will reach the level of Kosmos, Phenomena, and Longwang. As for this city? Well, they'll become yet another mythology among mythos.”

  To receive such high praise from Jin Tianyou would be amazing, yet it was more ominous than flattering. On the Shens' behalf, then, Lyressa felt frightened. “Is that it? You’re suggesting me to…to join Angels because of their predicted trajectory? That I’ll recover my memories as an unintended consequence?”

  “It’s possible, but admittedly…” Strangely, Jin Tianyou paused to think about his next words. “I sense a similar yet absent flame in you, a power key to your strength. Perhaps you felt it yourself?”

  …Why would she, when her “Alternate” had fought Louis, an SS-Rank Slayer, to a standstill?

  Jin Tianyou continued, “To see the true Lyressa fey Suntear, I think, would be a fascinating sight. Do you not think so?”

  Lyressa couldn’t bring herself to answer.

  ***

  “Idris.” Someone nudged him from his pleasant sleep. It was the best ten minutes of sleep in his life, and he felt not a single bit rested. Looking up from his stupor, he found Sera there, stupidly concerned about her overworked partner.

  No thanks to her, he had to entertain three college-aged kids and their questions by himself. While Alexander had made quality friends, their families and backgrounds proved troublesome, but everyone went home happy. They were safe from the internationals (hopefully); right now, they must be enjoying a good sleep.

  Couldn’t be him thanks to this glorified bird.

  He brushed Sera aside and sat up. “Before you ask, I’m fine. I’m alive. I’m not going clinically insane. And I’m—I should stop talking because you’re staring at me strangely.”

  Sera was looking at him like an alcoholic insisting on his sobriety, but she sighed and seemingly excused his theatrics as exhaustion. She sat down at her desk, turning her chair toward him. “Have you spoken with the team yet?”

  “Only Problem and Aiden. Not the Shens—” (“Why haven’t you—?”) “—oh, what am I supposed to say? ‘I’m sorry your dead parents came back to kill you!’”

  “You could apologize with a little more tact.”

  “You need another lesson in communication, Angel.” Truthfully, Idris had been meaning to extend his sympathies in private—either through the [Group Chat] or phone—but he struggled with saying the first word. He wrote three scripts, all of which had been scrapped by the second sentence.

  Sera clicked her tongue. “You need to rest—” (“No.”) “—you were stabbed a few days ago—” (“No—well, yes, but still no—!”) “—the internationals are ruined, extend your thanks to Romanos. All we have is Sophos’s part. I can take care of operations—”

  “There are so many things that have to be done.” Idris started to sift through his papers.

  “Can you list five right now?”

  “Yes, I—” Idris didn’t remember printing this report out, nor did he remember asking for these files. He frowned. “I can list two.”

  “Your memory’s shot.”

  “Stabbed.” He put everything down. “What about you, Sera? You’ve been working yourself to the bone. When was the last time you’ve seen or spoken to Ari?”

  At the mention of her name, Sera’s eyes drifted to a photo on her desk: of herself and her two favorite people in the world. “Soon. And thanks to you, I remembered why I woke you up in the first place.”

  Idris rolled his eyes. “And you insult my memory.”

  “Nathan is coming,” Sera said, putting an end to Idris’s complaints.

  Idris tried gulping, but his throat was too dry to allow it. “What about Korea? He knows he can’t jeopardize the operation there—”

  “You know him. He can’t idly stand by while we’re suffering. So tomorrow, he’ll personally lend a hand to Sophos and the rest of the team.”

  ***

  “So that’s what happened.”

  I’d explained to Thea and Uncle Ali about what happened in the past couple hours: the truth of the incident and Sophia. When they heard that my otherself was the true “mastermind,” they were equally surprised and unsurprised. I figured our emotional capacity for shock had long since been worn out. As for Sophia, I didn’t disclose every intimate detail for obvious reasons, but enough that they got the gist. As for right now…

  Morgan had designated me to the sleeping quarters. I gladly stole a bed and stretched my sore legs over the mattress. Most of the team were assisting Sophos with finalizing the “mad experiment” that would “hopefully attract the Mother.” Really, it was everyone but me. They had important roles to play: Chie was the student and assistant, Rei was supposed to be with Sophos from the beginning, Morgan was the cosmologist, Aiden was the cheerleader—and last and certainly least, Leo presumably stood there and looked pretty.

  “So you’re on the bench too?” Althea asked, a hint of mockery in her question.

  “What else am I supposed to do?” I patted my thighs for emphasis and it hurt more than it should. “If I lift a single box, I’m falling apart like glass.”

  “Just take care of yourself. Get as much rest as possible,” Uncle told me. “Tomorrow will be the biggest day yet, I think. You’ve been hurt too much already.”

  I muttered, “We all have.”

  We went quiet, remembering the same things, feeling the same hurt. The pain was fresh. That’s all I could think about while alone with my thoughts, but at the same time, I was thinking about tomorrow. Not about the experiment, after it. What was I going to do first? Move into our new apartment? Celebrate with Vic and the other idiots? Maybe fly with my new [Wings] or ask Leo for sword-lessons.

  The future was… It was uncertain but kind of exciting at the same time. Assuming the experiment wouldn’t kill us all.

  Uncle softly said, “Alex—”

  “I want to make this thing work. Angels,” I told them. “Look, I know it sounds crazy, but we have something good going on here. Even if our contract falls through, we should at least try and make the most of it.”

  My words brought again silence, but it was different this time. The opposite, actually. I heard whispering on the other end, quiet laughter, and other nonsense. Family, right? They never stop making fun of you, even after you survived a near-death experience together.

  After they had their fun, Althea got back on the call, “I guess we should be on our best behavior. Plus, we can’t unring the Demonic Cult bell.”

  Right, I forgot about that.

  Uncle assured, “Don’t worry, we won’t try anything.” (“Maybe.”) “Unless they give me a valid reason to.”

  These guys can never give me certainties, huh?

  I quietly chuckled, ignoring the small ripples of pain from every breath. “As long as we try, alright? As long as we don’t fuck up, we can carve something good for ourselves. That’s all I’m asking. I mean, we’re Angels. Why not use our wings as much as we can?”

  Again, my family laughed at me. Yeah yeah, I was being pushy and probably corny too, but I was serious about this. They knew I was serious. For four years, I’d been going through the motions of life. Go to college, find an internship, get a degree, land a job, and count your remaining years with paychecks. That’s what “normal people” do, but this isn’t a normal world and we aren't normal people.

  If going through the rollercoaster of life is inevitable, with all its highs and lows, then why not embrace the chaos a little and create some sense of it all?

  I rolled my eyes. “Alright, you can stop making fun of me. I know I’m being silly—”

  “No, it’s not silly,” Uncle said with a little laugh in his voice. “It’s…good to hear that from you.”

  “Right, yeah, but we gotta address the elephant in the room,” Althea butted in and paused for dramatic effect. “Your [Mementos]. The [Wings] and [Sword] are new, right? What happened? What did ya feel?”

  “Oh, that…” I actually hadn’t checked the System since acquiring my new [Mementos]. Sounds like this was a good time as any to do some theory-crafting.

  So that’s what we did. I’d like to say we stayed on topic—you know, discussing the intricacies of [Memento Recollection]—but the conversation went off-track and we started talking about random, pointless things.

  Despite getting my ass kicked for the hundredth time, I never felt better.

  I needed that morale booster for tomorrow.