The sun broke through the clouds, finally giving them a reprieve after days of flying through rain. Golden light warmed their faces as they soared through the crisp morning air, their second flight of the day bringing them within sight of their destination.

  "There it is! Thunderclap Port!" Sol's voice carried over the wind as he pointed ahead, his silver-white hair whipping around his face. "Look at that view!"

  The town perched dramatically on the edge of a massive cliff, small buildings clustered like barnacles on rock. Beyond it, the ocean stretched endlessly—a vast blue expanse meeting the sky at a distant horizon.

  Angelo hovered in place for a moment, his evolved orange wings catching the sunlight. "First time I've ever seen the ocean in real life," he admitted, his voice softer than usual. "It's... bigger than I imagined."

  Together, the three duplicates adjusted their course, spiraling toward an open area on the town's outskirts. They touched down on solid ground with a synchronized grace that came from days of practice. Boots crunched on loose gravel as they gazed at the weathered buildings of Thunderclap Port.

  "This is the first step, Dad," Sol thought, squeezing his hand into a fist. "I promise, I'll finish what you started."

  Neiva broke the contemplative silence, bouncing slightly on her toes. "So this is it, huh? Our first real quest location! What's our starting objective?"

  Angelo glanced over his shoulder at their travel bags, still suspended from glowing energy ropes. "First priority is finding a place to drop these bags and charge our phones."

  "Yeah, then we can start digging into the case." Sol nodded, his trademark confidence returning as he straightened his silver jacket.

  Red's face split into his usual predatory grin. "Finally, civilization! I've been dying to do some snooping—I mean, taking a casual stroll through town. For perfectly innocent reasons, of course."

  "Why must you consistently phrase benign activities in the most suspicious manner possible?" Blue sighed, his perfect posture somehow conveying an entire lecture's worth of disapproval.

  "Enough debate," Angelo cut in, adjusting the energy rope holding his bag. "Let's move before people start asking questions."

  They hadn't taken five steps into town when Angelo's prediction proved true. Locals stopped to stare, conversations dropping to whispers as the strange group passed. Eyes lingered on their glowing auras and outsider clothing with unmistakable suspicion.

  "Heh, our presence sure got their panties in a twist," Red announced loudly, earning a warning look from Neiva.

  Before she could shush him properly, two figures approached—a burly man with a bored expression and a woman with shoulders tensed like coiled springs. The woman called out, her voice sharp as a blade: "Hey! You there!"

  The group stopped immediately. Sol stepped forward, flashing his most charming smile. "Can we help you with something?"

  "What's the big idea, huh?" The woman jabbed a finger toward Angelo, Red and Blue. "Walking around with your auras flaring like you own the place? Looking to start trouble?"

  "Now you listen here, bitch," Red snapped, dropping his bag with a heavy thud. "You try hauling these oversized backpacks without using powers. See how your spine feels after that!"

  The air around the woman crackled as lightning sparked between her fingers. "WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?" she growled, her face flushing red.

  Blue immediately slid between them, hands raised in a placating gesture. "I must profoundly apologize for my companion's discourteous language. We were completely unaware of any local ordinances regarding aura manifestation. We would be most amenable to complying with established regulations—"

  "Buzz off, nerd!" The woman cut him off. "I don't give a crap about your fancy words!"

  Angelo stepped forward, placing himself squarely in front of the woman. His expression remained neutral, but his eyes carried the unmistakable weight of someone who'd faced far worse than an angry local. "Are auras prohibited within town limits?"

  "Of course they're prohibited! What rock did you crawl out from under?" She spat the words like they tasted foul.

  "Then we'll deactivate them once we've secured lodging," Angelo replied, his voice level but final. "The bags are too heavy to carry otherwise."

  The woman stared him down for several heartbeats, searching for weakness and finding none. Finally, her shoulders dropped slightly. "Tch, fine. But I'm watching you until those auras are gone. Don't try anything."

  "I'm going to tear her limb from limb!" Red's voice burned through their mental link, dripping with genuine malice.

  "You've caused enough problems already. Stand down," Angelo shot back mentally, his internal voice leaving no room for argument.

  "Get off your high horse!" Red's mental voice crackled with anger. "Last I checked, I don't take orders from you!"

  Without warning, Red's body dissolved into crimson smoke that streamed into Angelo before immediately pouring back out. The red mist drifted away toward the town, disappearing between buildings.

  "That hot-headed idiot!" Angelo's panic rolled through their shared consciousness.

  "Perhaps we should allow him some independence," Blue suggested carefully. "So long as he refrains from causing significant discord, temporary separation might prove beneficial for all parties involved."

  Neiva exchanged worried glances with Sol, both clearly understanding something had happened despite only hearing part of the conversation.

  "Well?" The woman snapped, jerking Angelo back to the situation at hand. "Are you moving or what?" She'd apparently missed Red's smoky departure in the commotion.

  Angelo swallowed his concern, focusing on the immediate problem. "Right. Do you know where we could find a place to stay? That would expedite this whole situation."

  "Yeah, I know a place," the man beside her finally spoke, his voice carrying a lazy drawl.

  "Do we look like tourist guides to you?" The woman's hands clenched at her sides.

  The man shrugged. "I've got better things to do than babysit outsiders all day."

  "Fine!" The woman huffed.

  They followed the pair through narrow streets, Angelo now struggling slightly with the weight of two bags. After several minutes of tense silence, they stopped in front of a building that had clearly seen better decades—peeling paint, weathered wood, and a sign hanging by a single chain.

  "Here's your inn," the man announced, gesturing toward the entrance with minimal enthusiasm.

  The woman crossed her arms. "Now power down if you know what's good for you."

  "After we get the bags inside," Angelo replied, adjusting his grip on the heavy luggage.

  "You think you're calling the shots here?" Lightning danced between the woman's fingers. "I'll fry you where you stand, boy!"

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  "That a murder threat?" Angelo's voice dropped to that dangerous, quiet tone that made Neiva's blood run cold. His eyes held the woman's without blinking.

  Sol stepped between them, hands raised, desperation flashing across his usually confident face. "Whoa, let's all take a breath! We're just tired travelers looking for a place to sleep. We'll deactivate our auras the second these bags are inside—that's a promise. Surely that's a reasonable compromise?"

  Sweat beaded on Sol's forehead as he looked between them, his charm working overtime. The woman's hard expression wavered as she considered his words.

  "Ugh, fine," she finally conceded with a disgusted wave. "Let's get this over with."

  The innkeeper's eyes went wide as they walked in—two glowing figures carrying oversized bags with ropes made of light, followed by their companions and the angry local woman. The poor man gripped the counter like it might save him from whatever storm had just blown through his door.

  "I—I—Can I help you?" His voice cracked, too loud in the quiet lobby.

  Angelo stepped forward, letting his bag settle on the wooden floor with a heavy thud. "We need a room for the three of us." He gestured to Neiva and Sol, keeping things simple.

  "Y-yes, of course," the innkeeper stammered, fingers fumbling with his ledger. "That'll be 200 Lumens per night. Each."

  "200 bucks?!" Angelo's jaw dropped. "For one night in this place?"

  Behind them, the local pair snickered, exchanging knowing looks that made Angelo's blood boil.

  Sol pulled them into a tight circle, lowering his voice. "I can't afford this. My budget's stretched thin as it is."

  "Don't worry," Neiva squeezed his arm reassuringly. "I've got my parents' savings. We'll be okay."

  Sol's brow furrowed, clearly uncomfortable. "This doesn't feel right. I can't take your money."

  "You're not taking it," Angelo cut in, his voice firm but quiet. "We're offering. I've got savings too. This mission matters to all of us."

  Sol studied their faces before nodding reluctantly. "Alright. For the mission."

  Angelo turned back to the innkeeper, who was pretending not to eavesdrop. "Fine. Show us to our room."

  Their room was neither luxurious nor terrible—peeling wallpaper and worn furniture, but clean sheets and working lights. The moment they dropped their bags, Angelo and Blue let their glowing auras fade away like candles being blown out. The woman with the noose tattoo nodded once, exchanged a meaningful look with her companion, and left without another word.

  Sol immediately dove for the nearest power outlet, phone charger in hand. "First mission accomplished—next mission: bringing our electronics back from the dead."

  While their devices slowly charged back to life, Blue adjusted his non-existent tie and headed for the door.

  "Where are you off to?" Angelo asked, looking up from his own phone.

  "I wish to engage the innkeeper in conversation," Blue replied, precise as always. "His behavior struck me as peculiar and potentially informative."

  Angelo nodded, and Blue slipped out, making his way back to the front desk where the innkeeper was now arranging papers, visibly more relaxed without the locals hovering nearby.

  "Pardon me, good sir," Blue began, his scholarly tone softened to sound more approachable.

  The innkeeper looked up, tension draining from his shoulders. "Yes? How can I help you?"

  "I couldn't help but notice your... discomfort during our check-in process," Blue said, choosing each word carefully. "Was there something about our arrival that caused you distress?"

  "No, no..." The innkeeper waved dismissively before leaning closer. "You folks aren't from around here, are you?"

  "Indeed not. We've journeyed from Novaria," Blue confirmed.

  The innkeeper's eyes darted to the door before he lowered his voice. "Listen, my Novarian friend. Life's different here in Thunderclap. Those two that brought you in? Notice the tattoos they were sporting?"

  Blue frowned slightly, trying to recall. "I regretfully failed to observe any such markings. What significance do they hold?"

  "They're Cliffhangers—the gang that runs this town," the innkeeper whispered, wiping nervous sweat from his forehead. "Have for years now. They call the shots, set the prices, decide who stays and who goes. Cross them..." He drew a finger across his throat. "If you're smart, you'll finish whatever brought you here and move on fast."

  Blue's perfect posture stiffened slightly. "I appreciate the intelligence. Most illuminating."

  When Blue returned to their room, Angelo was already explaining the situation to Sol and Neiva, sharing what Blue had learned about the Cliffhangers gang.

  Sol flopped back on one of the beds, staring at the ceiling. "Why can't anything ever be simple? How are we supposed to investigate with these goons breathing down our necks?"

  "At least they seem willing to leave us alone if we don't cause trouble," Neiva offered, sitting cross-legged on her own bed.

  Angelo's eyes narrowed, a dangerous light flickering in them. "A gang terrorizing an entire town... The Angel of Death should put a stop to that."

  "Don't even think about it," Sol warned, sitting up straight. "This is a whole gang we're talking about. You start something, and we're all dead."

  "I'm not stupid," Angelo replied, his voice cooling. "The Angel of Death only works when criminals genuinely fear death. With numbers on their side, they wouldn't truly be staring death in the face. My judgment wouldn't be fair under those circumstances."

  "So that's how it works," Neiva said thoughtfully, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear.

  Angelo shifted uncomfortably, picking up his now partially charged phone. "If you don't mind, I need to call my... step-mother." The word still felt strange on his tongue.

  Neiva's eyes dropped to her lap, a flash of sadness crossing her face at the reminder that she had no one to call. She turned to Sol instead. "What about you? Aren't you going to call your mom?"

  Sol's confident smile faltered, replaced by something more genuine and pained. "I want to, believe me. But all I left her was a letter saying I was going after Dad's killers. She has no idea where I am or what I'm doing. If I call..." He winced. "She'll explode."

  "She still deserves to know you're okay," Neiva said gently, concern filling her voice.

  Before Sol could respond, Miriam's voice burst from Angelo's phone speakers. "Angelo? Angelo! Do you have any idea how worried I've been?"

  "Hey... mom," Angelo replied softly, his cheeks warming as Sol and Neiva exchanged knowing smiles. "Sorry I couldn't call earlier. We finally made it to Thunderclap Port. How are things back home?"

  "Things here are mostly normal," Miriam said, her voice traveling across miles to reach them. "It's Infernia I'm worried about."

  Angelo's spine straightened. "Why? Did something happen?" His tone suggested he already knew the answer.

  "We've sent troops across the border to take down the Sundering Flames leadership," Miriam explained, her voice heavy. "Infernia's army is fighting back. Every day the news shows more casualties... so many young people dying for this war. It's heartbreaking."

  "How horrible," Neiva whispered, looking down at the sheets.

  Angelo gripped the phone tighter. "Is there any chance Infernia might send troops over our border?"

  "The news analysts don't think so," Miriam replied, though worry threaded through her words. "They say Infernia is just trying to push our forces out of their territory."

  "If anything changes, you tell me immediately," Angelo's voice hardened with determination. "I'll be there as fast as I can fly."

  "Thank you, darling," Miriam's voice softened, warming the room despite the miles between them. "You stay safe now, you hear me?"

  "I will," Angelo promised, his voice gentler than Sol or Neiva had ever heard it. "Take care."

  After the call ended, they gathered their things, ready to finally begin their investigation. As they headed for the door, Sol hung back.

  "Bathroom break," he explained, gesturing vaguely toward the small adjoining room. "You guys go ahead—I'll catch up in a few minutes."

  Once alone, Sol sank onto the edge of the bed, the weight of everything pressing down on him—GHOST haunting his father's unsolved cases, a possible terrorist tracking Angelo, a war between nations, and now a gang standing between them and the truth. But there was one more challenge he needed to face.

  With a sigh that seemed to come from his very soul, Sol picked up his phone and dialed. His heart pounded in his chest as he waited.

  "Hey Mom..."

  Meanwhile, across town, crimson smoke drifted through shadowy alleyways, hugging walls and slipping beneath dumpsters. Red's consciousness moved through his gaseous form, his irritation practically radiating from each swirling tendril.

  "Stupid Angelo, always thinking he can boss me around!" Red knew perfectly well that Angelo could hear every word through their mental link. He just didn't care. "Fuck him!"

  As Red continued his smoky tantrum, weaving between trash cans and abandoned crates, movement at the end of the alley caught his attention. The crimson mist paused, gathering into a slightly denser cloud near a stack of broken pallets.

  "Well, well, what do we have here?" Red's mental voice perked up with sudden interest.

  Two burly men stood in the shadows, their voices low but clear enough for Red to hear. Both wore similar noose tattoos on their necks—marks that matched the woman who'd confronted them earlier.

  "...yeah, a group of strangers rolled into town today," the shorter one said, scratching at his stubbled chin. "Some are definitely Aurons—saw them carrying stuff with glowing ropes, fancy evolved powers and everything."

  "Something the boss needs to know about?" The larger man crossed his arms, his massive shoulders blocking what little light filtered into the alley.

  "They seemed suspicious as hell." The first man glanced around nervously. "What if they're undercover cops? Could put our whole operation at risk."

  The big guy snorted, shaking his head. "You know where we put their kind around here?" He jerked a thumb toward the direction of the distant cliffs. "Try looking over the edge."

  "So we're gonna find out what they're after?"

  "Don't worry about it." The big man clapped a heavy hand on his companion's shoulder. "Just keep to your usual job. We've got ways of dealing with nosy outsiders."

  If smoke could grin, Red's crimson mist would have split into the widest, most predatory smile imaginable. His consciousness practically buzzed with excitement as the men continued their conversation, unaware of the invisible eavesdropper hovering just feet away.

  "Time to show everyone what the real hero of this story can do," Red thought, already plotting how he'd use this information. "Detective Red is on the case!"

  The crimson smoke swirled once more before slipping deeper into the town's shadows, following the gang members at a safe distance. While Angelo and the others were stuck playing by the rules, Red would get answers his way—the chaotic way.