Morning sunlight filtered through the park's trees, casting dappled shadows over the four figures huddled around a large map spread on the grass. The breeze carried hints of sawdust and fresh paint from nearby reconstruction efforts – reminders of last week's attacks that had left their scars on Novaria.

  Sol smoothed the wrinkled corners of the map, his silver-white hair catching the light. "Alright, let me catch Neiva up to speed here." He flashed a charming smile that made Neiva suddenly find the grass fascinating. "Though it's not exactly a happy story."

  Angelo leaned back against a tree trunk, arms crossed. "Just get to the point."

  "My father was David Thron," Sol began, his playful demeanor fading into something heavier. "He was one of Novaria's best detectives, and he spent years trying to expose this group called GHOST." His fingers drummed against his knee. "They're... well, imagine professionals so good at staying hidden they might as well be actual ghosts. Stealing, information gathering, and sometimes..." He paused. "Sometimes making people disappear."

  Red lounged on the grass nearby, his gray-tinted copy of Angelo's form radiating restless energy. "Don't forget to mention the part where this is mostly your personal theory from digging around dark corners of the internet!"

  "Wait, what?" Neiva's eyes widened. "You mean we don't know for sure?"

  Sol's confident smile wavered for just a moment. "Ten years ago, they made my father vanish. I know it was them because they took every single paper that mentioned GHOST from his files." Pain crept into his voice. "But my father... he was clever. He had a backup plan."

  "Let me guess," Red's trademark predatory grin spread wider. "Some kind of dramatic secret evidence?"

  "Can you let him finish?" Angelo snapped, though his eyes never left Sol's face.

  Sol drew a deep breath. "See, my father noticed something. Lots of his other cases had one thing in common – absolutely no evidence, no suspects, nothing left behind. GHOST's signature. Each case alone didn't seem connected, but together?" He tapped the map meaningfully. "A pattern starts to form."

  Neiva tucked her legs under her, fully invested now. "And that pattern leads to GHOST?"

  "That's the idea." Sol nodded. "We solve these cases, hoping one of them has GHOST's fingerprints on it."

  Understanding lit up Neiva's face. "Oh! Like in video games – you've got your main quest, but you need to do side quests first to complete it! Only here we don't know which side quests advances the main quest."

  "That's... actually a pretty good way to look at it." Sol chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

  "Was your father famous?" Neiva asked. "Like, would people remember him?"

  Sol's eyes sparkled. "Why don't you ask his boss?" He nodded toward Angelo.

  "Former boss," Angelo corrected, already pulling out his phone. "And yeah, let's test that theory." His fingers moved quickly, finding Chief Ramirez's number.

  The chief's gruff voice filled the morning air: "Having second thoughts about quitting already, son?"

  "Not exactly, Chief. Quick question – did you know David Thron?"

  The silence that followed spoke volumes. When Ramirez finally spoke, his voice had lost all its gruffness: "I... yes. Why do you ask?"

  Red's soft chuckle carried a hint of curiosity at the chief's obvious discomfort.

  "Met his son," Angelo said carefully. "Says his father was pretty well-known."

  "He... he was brilliant." Chief Ramirez's voice cracked. "His disappearance was a huge loss. For the force, for Novaria..." He gripped his desk harder. "And for me personally."

  In the chief's office, Officer Vivian watched color drain from her boss's face. His hands trembled slightly as he finished the call: "Don't get yourself in trouble, son."

  The silence after he set down the phone felt heavy enough to crush steel. Vivian shifted uncertainly, the morning sunlight streaming through his office windows doing nothing to warm the chill that had settled over the room.

  "Is everything alright, sir?" She kept her voice gentle.

  Ramirez dragged in a breath that seemed to physically pain him. His weathered face had aged ten years in the last few minutes. "I've got a bad feeling about this..." The words carried volumes of unspoken history, but whatever ghosts haunted his eyes remained locked behind his silence.

  Not too far away in the park, their little group sat processing the chief's strange reaction. Sol's jaw had clenched tight enough to crack teeth at the mention of his father's disappearance. His hands balled into white-knuckled fists in his lap, and for a moment the charming facade cracked to reveal the raw pain underneath.

  Red stretched dramatically, breaking the tension. "Alright, enough with the heavy stuff! Tell us about this first case already!"

  Sol visibly gathered himself, leaning forward to point at a red circle on the map. "Thunderclap Port – it's this tiny mining town built right on the ocean cliffs. Ten years ago, they found something incredible – this super rare, crazy expensive gem. Had a buyer lined up and everything." His eyes lit up with the mystery. "They went all out protecting it – cameras watching every angle, laser security systems, guards patrolling 24/7. But one morning?" He snapped his fingers. "Gone. Just like that."

  "But how?" Neiva leaned in, completely hooked. "With all that security?"

  "That's the weird part." Sol's voice dropped lower. "The lasers never triggered. The guards saw nothing. But the really strange thing? The security cameras - there was never a moment they went off."

  "So check the footage," Red said with a shrug. "Not exactly rocket science."

  "Ah, Red the simpleton strikes again," Blue's scholarly voice echoed through their shared consciousness.

  "What did you just call me?!" Red snarled out loud, making Sol jump.

  "He's probably talking to Blue," Neiva explained quickly, seeing Sol's confusion. "You know, the third one?"

  "The cameras showed something impossible," Sol continued, getting back on track. "According to the footage, the gem never moved. It was just... there, then not there, with no sign of anyone taking it."

  Red's usual manic energy stilled as the implications sank in. "Okay... that is spooky."

  Sol bounced to his feet, brushing grass from his pants. "Well? Ready to start our little adventure?"

  "Wait." Neiva hugged her knees to her chest, her voice small but determined. "There's something big we need to talk about first." She took a deep breath. "What if war really does break out with Infernia? Would we even be safe out there?"

  The word 'war' seemed to physically change the air around them. Angelo's shoulders tensed as memories flooded back – the terrorist attack, Sleeser's wounds, that final conversation where his mentor had locked every door Angelo wanted to open.

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  Sol ran a hand through his silver-white hair, his usual playful attitude softening. "Look, I can't promise anything for certain. But think about it – we're actually heading away from the border. In a weird way, we might be safer on this field trip than staying here."

  "What about my..." Angelo stumbled over the words, still getting used to them, "my step-mother? And your mom too, Sol? After what happened last week, can we really leave them here unprotected?"

  Something shifted in Sol's expression, his charm falling away to reveal steel underneath. "I get it. Really, I do. But sometimes we have to listen to our heads instead of our hearts."

  "What do you mean by that?" Neiva leaned forward, leaves crunching under her hands.

  Sol gestured toward the distant mountains that marked Infernia's border. "If war comes, it'll be over there, not here. Our forces will be the ones going into their territory to grab those Sundering Flames terrorists."

  "So we should just stop worrying?" Angelo's voice could have frozen fire. He glanced at Red, surprised to find his usually wild counterpart looking dead serious for once.

  "I didn't say that." Sol held up his hands. "We can't know anything for sure. But the logic makes sense, and..." His voice cracked slightly. "I can't stop now. Not when I'm finally making progress. But hey, if the war thing changes your mind, I get it. No hard feelings."

  Silence settled over their little group like a heavy blanket. Neiva watched Angelo with worried eyes as he stared into the middle distance, clearly wrestling with the decision. Finally, he spoke: "You've been awfully quiet. How about you come out and share your thoughts, Blue?"

  The air beside them rippled like heat waves rising from hot pavement. Blue smoke poured from Angelo's body, twisting into human shape before solidifying into another gray-tinted copy of Angelo. Where Red leaned crossed armed against a tree and Angelo stood there with hands in his pockets, Blue's posture was perfect enough to make a butler jealous.

  "An interesting dilemma," Blue said, his scholarly voice carrying careful thought. "Should we follow logic or emotion? But perhaps they're more tangled than one would assume. Can't emotion be the drive to listen to logic? Could listening to emotion be a logical course of action?"

  Orange light flickered in Angelo's eyes. "For once in your life, can't you speak like a normal person?"

  Blue straightened his non-existent tie, clearing his throat that didn't really need clearing. "Very well. Solomon's reasoning makes sense, but it comes from an emotional place – he's too invested to turn back now. Meanwhile, our worry about loved ones might be the correct thing to listen to. We've seen how quickly danger can appear at our doorstep. Each choice may be sound and justified."

  Sol's eyes lit up with understanding. "Well, would you look at that. The third one's the brain of the operation! So we've got Blue for smarts, Angelo for muscle, and Red for..."

  "Chaos!" Red's sharp grin could have split his face.

  "I believe 'crazy' would be more accurate," Blue said with dignified dryness.

  "Can we focus?" Angelo pinched the bridge of his nose. "What are we actually going to do here?"

  "Maybe..." Neiva's quiet voice drew everyone's attention. "Maybe we could still go, but stay connected? Keep checking the news, and if it looks like Novaria's in danger, we come straight back?"

  Angelo and Sol's eyes met across the map. A moment of understanding passed between them.

  "I can work with that," Angelo said, just as Sol declared, "Perfect solution!"

  Sol clapped his hands together like a teacher wrapping up class. "So, everyone ready for takeoff?"

  After a round of nods, Angelo spoke up. "Think so."

  "Speaking of takeoff..." Sol's eyes sparkled as he watched Angelo's orange aura flaring to life. "Any chance we could hitch a ride with the resident flying expert?"

  "Already planning on it." Angelo rolled his shoulders, working out the tension. "But we need some ground rules. My evolved aura lasts about an hour and a half tops. To be safe, we fly for an hour, then rest for an hour. No exceptions."

  Sol nodded approvingly. "Smart. Playing it safe. And since it's winter, days are shorter – we should probably set up camp about an hour before sunset."

  "Right." Orange light rippled across Angelo's skin like sunlight on water, growing brighter until it looked like gentle flames dancing around him. "Everyone carries their own bag, and two of us will each take a passenger."

  "I call Angelo!" Neiva bounced on her toes, practically radiating excitement.

  Sol grinned and jerked a thumb toward Blue. "I'll go with the professor here. Bet we'll have some fascinating conversations."

  "Oh, so I'm everyone's last choice?" Red crossed his arms, looking exactly like a kid who didn't get picked for the dodgeball team.

  "You know exactly why," Neiva said, her dark voice carrying memories of past shenanigans.

  Sol held up two fingers in a peace sign. "Nothing personal here, mate!"

  "Enough talking." Angelo's wings spread from his shoulders, looking like they were made of solid orange light. They were beautiful in a strange way, like stained glass catching the sun. "Let's move."

  He scooped Neiva up carefully. Glowing tendrils of energy – like friendly octopus arms made of light – reached out to grab her enormous travel bag. Eight tiny jets of power ignited in his wings, and suddenly they were airborne, the ground falling away beneath them.

  Blue's take on flight looked completely different – more mechanical, like something from a sci-fi movie. He created gloves and boots with precise holes that released controlled bursts of energy. Sol grabbed one of Blue's energy tendrils, clearly not interested in being carried like a princess in a fairy tale. Soon they were rising to join Angelo and Neiva.

  Red watched them all. His tendrils snatched up Angelo's bag like he was planning to throw it off a cliff, but his energy formed into sleek glider wings instead. One massive thruster materialized on his back – because of course Red would go for the loudest option possible. He shot into the sky like a rocket having a temper tantrum.

  They hovered above the scarred city, five figures suspended between the life they knew and the unknown ahead. Angelo's gaze drifted toward Miriam's neighborhood, that simple promise - 'I'll be okay, mom' - suddenly feeling heavier than his travel bag.

  When he caught Sol's eye, he recognized the same mix of determination and guilt shadowing his new partner's face. No words needed to be spoken; they all understood the cost of looking forward rather than back.

  With one synchronized motion, they turned away from Novaria and shot toward the horizon, leaving behind everything but their resolve.

  Together they soared toward the horizon, three identical figures plus their passengers cutting through the morning air. Somewhere out there, mysteries were waiting to be solved. But for now, there was just the pure joy of flight, the wind in their faces, and the promise of adventure ahead.

  The city shrank behind them, its rebuilding streets and worried citizens growing smaller with each passing second. Whatever came next – war, danger, or just really uncomfortable camping – at least they were facing it together.

  While sunlight bathed Luminia's skies, night had wrapped its dark blanket around the coastal city of Maridian. In her new office at the top of a massive circular building, Vienna stood watching moonlight dance across distant waves. Smoke curled from her cigarette like a lazy snake, creating shifting patterns in the air around her perfectly maintained appearance.

  "I trust the new office meets your standards, my Lady?" Lector's voice carried practiced precision. He stood in the doorway, his suit as crisp as his posture.

  Vienna took a long drag from her cigarette, letting the smoke drift toward the stars. "The view is breathtaking. He would have loved it." Something soft crept into her voice, there and gone like a shadow.

  "Indeed, my Lady." Lector stepped closer, his shoes silent on the thick carpet. "Which is precisely why we must succeed in our mission, is it not?"

  "Any updates?" She kept her eyes on the horizon, but Lector knew her attention was razor-sharp.

  He shifted his weight slightly – the tiniest crack in his perfect composure. "Several, though that report isn't ready yet. For now, I have the monthly danger assessment."

  "Proceed." Two simple syllables that carried the weight of command.

  Lector pulled a small tablet from his jacket. "First, regarding the potential war between Luminia and Infernia. More importantly, last week's terrorist attack had an unexpected side effect – public approval of the Enlightened Society has taken a serious hit, not just in Luminia but worldwide."

  Vienna's only response was another long drag of her cigarette and a single word that carried volumes of satisfaction: "Good."

  "There's also the matter of our Angel of Death," Lector continued, choosing his words carefully. "While I know you prefer not to discuss—"

  "Do not misunderstand me, Lector." Her voice could have frozen fire. "I take that boy very seriously as a threat."

  "Then why not simply..." Lector's usual composure cracked with genuine confusion. "We have operatives who could eliminate someone of his caliber easily."

  Vienna turned from the window, moonlight casting dramatic shadows across her face. "... Because he may prove vital to our project."

  "About that," Lector straightened. "Our sources in Ashford confirmed our theory – Angelo does have two identical companions. Special variety, first-hand confirmation."

  "All the more reason to keep him breathing... for now." Her fingers tapped a gentle rhythm against the window glass.

  "There is one concern." Lector's voice tightened. "He's resigned from the police force, likely connected to his recent visit to Ashford. And currently..." He swallowed hard. "We've lost track of his movements."

  The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. "You lost him?" Vienna's calm was more terrifying than any rage.

  "M-my deepest apologies, Lady Vienna." Sweat beaded on Lector's forehead. "He was last seen flying over Novaria before we lost visual contact. He seems to have left the city entirely."

  Vienna crushed her cigarette in a crystal ashtray, the motion precise and controlled. "He'll surface eventually. When he does..." Her eyes locked onto Lector like targeting lasers. "You will not lose sight of him again. Are we clear?"

  "Crystal clear, my Lady." Lector's voice shook slightly.

  Vienna turned back to her window. Somewhere out there, Angelo was flying into mystery. But he had no idea he was part of a much bigger game – one where he was just another piece on a board he couldn't even see.