The silence felt heavy with unspoken words until Sol finally cleared his throat. "Hey Neiva," he said, his usual confidence softening into something more genuine. "I need to apologize about earlier."
"For what?" Neiva glanced at Angelo beside her, but he looked just as confused.
"When I teased you about Angelo being your boyfriend." Sol poked at the fire with a stick, not quite meeting her eyes. "I could tell it bothered you, even if you tried to hide it."
"Oh... that." Neiva's voice went quiet.
Blue materialized beside her like morning mist taking shape, his perfect posture a stark contrast to everyone else's campfire slouch. "Perhaps some topics are better left—"
"No," Neiva cut him off gently. "Actually... maybe I should explain." She took a deep breath, her hands twisting in her lap. "My mom used to say sharing personal stories helps people connect. Makes a group stronger."
Sol looked puzzled until Blue explained, "Her mother was a psychologist."
"Was?" Sol's voice carried careful understanding.
Neiva pulled out her phone, its blue light mixing with the campfire's warm glow as she scrolled through old photos. Finally she found what she was looking for – a picture of her younger self, maybe thirteen, laughing at something colorful and strange while a man beside her shared her joy.
"What is that thing?" Angelo leaned closer, pointing at the odd shape in the photo.
"Let me see!" Sol couldn't contain his curiosity. When Neiva passed him the phone, a genuine smile touched his lips. "Seriously, what am I looking at?"
A bittersweet warmth filled Neiva's expression. "That's one of my dad's light projections. He was a light Auron, but..." She managed a small laugh. "Not a very good one. He used to try recreating characters from my favorite movies. They never looked quite right, but that just made them funnier."
The fire popped loudly, making them all jump. Neiva's smile faded as she continued, "We were so happy then. Before Kim Kenver took them both from me."
The name fell like a stone into still water. Sol's grip on her phone tightened as he looked again at the joyful scene frozen in time.
"After that, nothing felt worth doing anymore." Neiva's voice grew distant. "I quit school, stopped playing tennis... just gave up on everything."
"But how does Angelo fit into all this?" Sol asked carefully. "I only meant to tease about you two..."
Neiva's eyes found the flames, like she was drawing strength from their steady light. "Everyone else gave up on me. Counselors, social workers – they all eventually stopped trying. I was ready to let the darkness win." Her voice strengthened. "Then I heard about the Angel of Death bringing Kim Kenver to justice. It was like... like someone had thrown me a rope when I was drowning."
Neiva's words took Angelo back to a simpler time—before the Sundering Flames attack, before his evolution, before he ever met Bill.
Night had fallen over Novaria, the city lights creating islands of brightness in the darkness. Angelo swung between buildings like a spider, orange energy ropes shooting from his aura around his body to latch onto ledges and railings. He soared through the cool night air, in hot pursuit of his target.
"Hahaha!" Red's laughter bubbled through Angelo's mind as they chased a glowing purple figure across the rooftops. "Look at that big guy bouncing from roof to roof! It looks so wrong!"
The heavyset criminal leapt with surprising agility, his purple aura trailing behind him like neon smoke.
Blue's scholarly voice echoed in their shared consciousness, practically dripping with disapproval. "You really know nothing about how Aurons work, do you? Body weight has absolutely no correlation with physical capabilities when using aura enhancement."
"Yeah, yeah, who gives a crap?" Red dismissed Blue carelessly.
Angelo remained focused, calculating angles and momentum. With a burst of speed, he swung wide around a water tower and landed directly in the criminal's path.
The man skidded to a stop—overweight, balding, with thick glasses perched on his sweaty nose. He yelped in surprise when Angelo dropped down in front of him, cutting off his escape.
"You're under arrest," Angelo said, his voice cold as winter steel, eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.
"Out of my way, shorty!" the man bellowed, thrusting his hands forward. A jagged bolt of lightning shot from his fingertips straight toward Angelo's chest.
But Angelo had already shifted to the side, his body twisting like water flowing around a rock. As he moved, he fired a blast of orange energy that caught the criminal square in the face, shattering his glasses into glittering fragments.
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"WHY YOU!" the man roared, his hands raised for another attack.
Angelo stood perfectly still, his voice dropping to that formal, dark tone that had become his trademark. "Hear my words, criminal. You are staring at the face of death. Change your heart and seek redemption... or strike at me, and be sent to your grave."
"Again with the dramatic speeches?" Red snickered in their shared mind. "Maybe theater is your true calling, Angie."
The criminal froze, recognition dawning in his eyes. "Wait... you're him, aren't you?" His voice grew hushed, almost reverent with fear. "The Angel of Death..."
Angelo's eyes narrowed slightly. "Call me whatever you wish. Your choice remains. Now choose."
The purple glow surrounding the criminal flickered and died like a candle being blown out. He slowly lowered his hands, sliding them into his coat pockets. "I've heard the stories. I know when I'm outmatched."
Angelo nodded, his own aura fading as he pulled out a pair of handcuffs and approached the man.
"Wait," Red's voice cut through their mind, unusually serious. "Something doesn't feel right."
"Whatever it is, it can wait until we're done here," Angelo dismissed Red's concern, focusing on the criminal.
But Red wasn't having it. For once, he wasn't just looking for trouble—he genuinely sensed danger. Without warning, he slipped from Angelo's body as crimson smoke, invisible against the night sky as he circled around the criminal.
"Hands where I can see them," Angelo commanded, his tone almost bored.
"Of course." The criminal's mouth twitched slightly upward. "Whatever you say."
It happened in the blink of an eye—the man's hand whipped out of his pocket, a gun appearing like a magic trick. His finger squeezed the trigger just as Red materialized behind him, grabbing his arm and twisting it sideways. The gunshot cracked through the night air, the bullet flying harmlessly into the darkness.
The criminal's eyes widened in shock as Angelo's orange aura exploded to life around him like a sudden sunrise. Before the man could even struggle against Red's grip, a beam of orange energy shot from Angelo's palm, punching straight through the criminal's heart.
In his final moments, the criminal twisted his head to see who had grabbed him from behind. His dying eyes met an identical copy of the Angel of Death—but this one had glowing red eyes and a smile that promised only chaos. It was the last thing he would ever see.
"You came looking for me because of that?" Angelo's surprise was clear in his voice.
Neiva nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I started visiting the police station, but I couldn't work up the courage to ask about you. Then after that interview where you talked about losing your partner... I finally knew what you looked like. So I waited outside the hospital every morning, hoping to meet you."
"Hold up," Sol leaned forward, firelight catching in his silver-white hair. "You knew he'd just lost a partner and still wanted to team up with him?"
"I didn't care." The steel in Neiva's voice made even Sol lean back slightly. "The Angel of Death gave me a reason to live again. Now he's my anchor to the world."
Angelo looked away, clearly uncomfortable with such raw honesty. But Sol wasn't done – he turned to Angelo with curious intensity. "So why did you let her in? Especially after losing someone?"
"Didn't want to at first." Angelo poked at the fire, sending sparks swirling upward. "Tried to scare her off with an impossible task."
"But she did it anyway?"
"Yeah." Something softened in Angelo's expression as he glanced at Neiva. "She reminds me of Bill sometimes. His determination, his... his light."
"Your last partner?" Sol's voice carried gentle understanding.
Angelo's eyes reflected the dancing flames. "The kid saw my condition as something amazing instead of a curse. First person who ever did that." He met Sol's gaze across the fire. "But Neiva isn't his replacement. I'm trying to save her to make up for the life I couldn't protect."
Sol stared into the campfire, memories dancing in the flames like old friends. "You know something?" he said, his usual confidence softening into something warmer. "My father was my absolute hero growing up. Coolest guy in the world, if you asked kid-me."
Angelo and Neiva shared a look across the fire, recognizing the weight of memories in Sol's voice.
"Instead of bedtime stories, he'd tell me about cases he solved." Sol's smile grew wider as the memories washed over him. "His detective work seemed like actual magic to me back then. He'd bring me to that same police station where you worked, Angelo. Every time he cracked a case, everyone there would gather around to hear how he did it."
Angelo flexed his fingers absently, watching sparks rise from the fire. "Sounds like he enjoyed showing off."
"Nah, nothing like that." Sol poked the fire with a stick, sending more sparks dancing upward. "He was teaching me something important – that honest, hard work pays off in the end."
The crackling flames filled their silence for a moment before Sol looked up with sudden intensity. "You know what's kind of amazing?"
"What is?" Neiva leaned forward, drawn in by his tone.
"All three of us carry the same kind of pain." Sol's voice grew gentle. "Almost feels like destiny brought us together, doesn't it?"
Angelo scoffed, but the sound held more pain than mockery. "Give me a break. I lost my parents when I was too young to even remember them. That's not the same thing at all."
"Actually," Sol's eyes sparkled with something knowing, "I wasn't talking about your parents. The way you talk about Bill – that's the voice of someone who lost family." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "And that step-mother you mentioned at the park... that would be Bill's mother, right?"
Angelo's face went pale. "How could you possibly—"
"Elementary, my friend!" Sol couldn't resist throwing in a theatrical wink.
"No, seriously," Angelo demanded while Neiva practically bounced with curiosity. "How did you figure that out?"
Sol's grin widened – for a moment, he felt exactly like his father must have when explaining a case. "It all comes down to timing. You're searching for answers about your biological parents, right?"
"Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?" Angelo's confusion was clear in the firelight.
Neiva's eyes lit up like she was trying to solve a puzzle. "What's the connection?"
"Here's the thing," Sol settled into his explanation like a comfortable coat. "Most orphans who grow up with loving step-parents don't suddenly start digging into their biological family's past. Which means Angelo probably started looking for answers before he had a step-mother."
Angelo and Neiva leaned forward without realizing it, completely caught up in Sol's logic.
"So if this search is recent," Sol continued, clearly enjoying their reactions, "and we think about who might have become his step-mother lately..." He spread his hands like a magician revealing his trick. "Bill's mother fits perfectly. You two probably bonded over losing someone you loved, and that connection grew into real family."
"That's... that's incredible," Neiva breathed, looking at Sol with new respect.
Blue materialized beside them like morning mist taking shape, his scholarly presence softened by genuine admiration. "As they say, the apple didn't fall far from the tree."
The heavy moment broke like sunshine through clouds. Their conversation drifted to lighter topics, but something had shifted between them. They'd discovered a strange truth – that sometimes the worst kind of pain could lead to the best kind of connection, bringing people together in ways they never expected.
The fire burned lower as night deepened around their little circle, but none of them felt the darkness quite as deeply anymore. Sometimes finding people who understand your shadows is the first step toward finding your light.