“We’re going to Hangzhou!” Mom declared to the family a couple weeks before my birthday. Dad clapped, but the rest of us kids weren't exactly excited. Intrigued, pleasantly surprised, but not jumping up and down with joy.

  “Why?” And my stupid little sister couldn’t get the hint and at least act like she was thrilled.

  Mom clicked her tongue and I knew she internally wanted to whack her daughter over the head. Instead, she pushed a finger against Thea's forehead. “Because I said so. This is a good opportunity to celebrate your brother’s birthday and revisit old memories.”

  Althea whined and moved away from the hostile finger. “You just want an excuse to come back home—”

  For her preteen rudeness, she deservedly got flicked in the head. “And is there anything wrong with that? It saves me the trouble of trying to convince you kids with big words. I rehearsed it with your father and everything, oh well.”

  Dad hummed and checked something on his phone. “Well, Hangzhou is... It's ‘the place where we first met and fell in love under the... Under the stars.’ I think I'm reading that right.”

  “And I don’t trust your father with reading from a script naturally.” Mom tipped his phone down and sweetly smiled. “It’s already settled. We brought the plane tickets, and we’ll enjoy a few days in China.”

  I smiled and relaxed; I didn’t have any plans for my big seventeen otherwise. Maybe a small party, have a cake, but a vacation? I wasn’t going to turn down a vacation, especially if it meant skipping school. “I hope my Mandarin’s up to par, then,” I said.

  “They’ll understand you just fine.” Mom sat on the armrest of one of the lounges, arms and legs crossed. “I’m worried about Althea more than you, though.” (“Hey!”) “You need to take your lessons more seriously, sweetheart.”

  Dad motioned with his hand, telling us to calm down before another argument broke out. “Let’s not get too rambunctious, okay? Really, we wanted to take you two on a vacation while we still have the chance. We’re running out of time before Alex becomes a real adult.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m not gonna be eighteen for a while. I still have college applications and final exams and all that.”

  “You’ll be a grown man before you know it,” Mom said. “Which is more reason why we should do more fun things as a family. Soon, your schedule will be too busy for these silly things. Going out with your friends, studying at Yale or Harvard or Princeton—” (“I don’t wanna go to an Ivy.”) “—making a wonderful life for yourself.”

  My eyes wandered again, to the scars on my mother’s arms and the gentle expression on my father’s face. “It’s…not that big of a deal. I’m just gonna be at college. Just another thing.”

  “It’s not a ‘thing’ to us,” Dad told me. “You don’t know how happy we are, you two. While we get annoyed—believe me, your mother talks—your worst problems are crappy teachers and school gossip. When we were your age, we never would’ve believed that a college degree was in the cards let alone a vacation across the world. To give you these things, it means we did alright as parents.”

  ...Yeah.

  You did everything for us.

  Mom walked over and patted her husband’s shoulder. “All we ask is that you refrain from embarrassing us. I want to brag about my children, not be ashamed of their antics.”

  I always wanted to make you proud, to be the best man I could be.

  “We’ll cheer you on from the sidelines.”

  “Just make sure you call whenever you have your own company.”

  You were always like that. You looked at your own lives and combed through every waking memory, no matter how heart-breaking or aggravating, and derived lessons from them. You didn’t want to impart the same pain onto your kids; more than that, you wanted them to smile and have stupid problems and never know mortality. They should experience a childhood you never had and look toward a bright future when yours had been so dim.

  A part of me wished I never understood what you went through, but here we are.

  Even after six or seven years, I’m not sure I can earn a happy ending like you guys had.

  I blinked and found myself standing in my new and most certainly temporary “home,” an apartment too fancy for my blood. It hadn’t been that long since I received my wings from Rector, an employment most would envy, but I wouldn’t call this the desired result after “pulling myself up by the bootstraps.”

  This was only the start of a long, long marathon.

  Primordial Plaza, Seraph, Jin Tianyou and Zhu Xinyue, Silverhonor, and whoever was coming next.

  Will the next doppelganger tomorrow kill me? Hell, which identity will they take this time?

  “...Hey, you awake? We’ve been talking at you this entire time.” Thea snapped her fingers in front of my face. I barely registered them. “Did Silverhonor take that much outta you?”

  “Actually, they reconciled,” Leo cheekily said on the other end of the couch we were sitting on. “He really played up his charms, which I didn’t think he could do.”

  “Mhm.” I rubbed my eyes.

  Uncle Ali, who’d helped himself to a little late-night beer, was the first to notice my not-so-spectacular mood. Well, the first willing to point it out: “How’re you feeling? You don’t seem to be all here.”

  “I’m fine, just…” I stopped rubbing my eyes and started rubbing my head instead, but it couldn’t get rid of the fog clogging up my headspace. “Everything’s hitting. Running around, watching the fight between Archknell and the Alt, that was… That wasn’t the best workout for my body.”

  Leo scooted closer to me with searching eyes, undressing me from my socks to my imaginary hat. “I think you should hang back tomorrow—” (“Leo.”) “ —no, this is an order. You should’ve been resting today regardless, but we’re putting you on the bench now. You need proper rest.”

  My two halves were fighting each other. One was screaming in my ear about responsibility and duty, but the other was more rational. As much as my diligence begged me to keep working, I knew better than to die an early death. In my state? I couldn’t physically argue. All the excitement piled on and hit me like a freight train. Everything felt sluggish and sore, my mind was working several seconds behind everyone else’s, and all I could think about was a warm bed. Hell, my back was hurting and I was just laying against the couch.

  “...Alright,” I waved the white flag. “If things really go south, you know where I am.”

  “We won’t. If tomorrow has another Alt, we’ll handle it ourselves.”

  “And.” Althea did jazz-hands. “We can always come off the bench and take your spot. I’ve been itching to fight the Ghost of Christmas Past.”

  I rolled my eyes. “My sister will get everyone killed before the Alt does.”

  “Eat a dick, asshole.”

  Idiot. Some things won’t change, at least. Slowly, day-by-day, we could push forward.

  Until, inevitably, life decides to push back and send us into a different direction.

  ***

  “Alright, until further notice, this is your new home.” Aiden opened the door to their apartment. It wasn’t anything special, but it was close to HQ and had top-of-the-line security. Though as of late, he and Chie had been spending their nights at the workshop or with Ariella.

  Rei dragged his feet inside, his shoulders sagging both the weight of his fatigue and the water soaking his new clothes. It hurt seeing him track an uneven trail of mud onto the floor, but a dirty apartment felt kinda low on the priority list at the moment. The first on the list was food, then sleep, and more sleep.

  “Wait a sec, hold on!” Chie ran in after Rei, stopping him before he reached the rug. They had a jumbled conversation but from what Aiden understood, Rei was convinced to pop his shoes off and awkwardly stand there as Chie ducked into their bedroom.

  Aiden carefully slipped his own shoes off, trying to make as little of a mess as possible, and set them on the shoe-rack. Cleaning them was a tomorrow-problem.

  Rei continued to stand there silently. While nobody really knew him, the change in personality was too drastic to ignore. Beforehand, he was your average fanatic about swords and swordmasters to a concerning degree, but as soon as the dark clouds decided to shed a few tears, boom. He was dark and gloomy. It was suspicious. Then again, everything about him was suspicious. You couldn't simply dispatch an Alternate with a single move: a high-level concept-destroying kenjutsu that you couldn’t find in a D-Rank Slayer.

  That wasn’t normal, but the entire team wasn’t normal.

  Do I need to keep an eye on Rei too? Aiden narrowed his eyes—

  “Got it!” Chie came into the living room waving a clean towel. “Go clean yourself off in our bathroom, okay? And take a shower!”

  “Okay…” Rei took the towel then looked at the mess on the floor. “Uhm, I apologize for my rudeness…”

  “Apologize by cleaning up! Now go! C’mon!” Chie shoved him into the bathroom and shut the door before he could protest. Hopefully, Rei knew how to work the shower.

  Aiden shuffled, his feet pointing in different directions: to the kitchen, where the mop was; and to the bathroom, where the shower cut on after a few moments. “I… I guess we oughta start cleaning, huh? Lemme fetch the stuff.”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  He turned toward the kitchen—

  Something rammed his back with the might of a plushie. Small fingers latched onto his shirt, tightly twisting knots in the fabric. A forehead was uncomfortably pressed against his spine. As her hold became harsher, more desperate, it turned a vice in his heart.

  “Not yet…” Chie muttered, her heavy breaths bristling through his shirt and hitting his skin.

  Aiden clenched his weakened hands. Through some wizardry, whatever exhaustion Chie had was transferred to him via touch.

  “...You okay, babe?” he asked, barely louder than the running shower.

  Chie rubbed her head up-and-down. “Let’s stay like this for a little bit. It’s… It’s your punishment.” She stopped gripping his shirt and hugged him instead, her arms squeezing his belly. “For scaring me so much. All of you.”

  Yeah… Aiden smiled. That’s my punishment, alright.

  ***

  The droll of a ticking clock. The piano of fading rain. Distant murmurs of sky and city. The howling sirens. The ambiance was her only company in this grand office. Normally, this space would be alive and warm with conversation—whether or not those were pleasant conversations oft depended on the day—but for this special occasion, it was cold, isolating, and deserving.

  Lyressa sat, hands folded on her lap, and waited.

  Her phone, as good of a distraction as it was, couldn’t pull her mind away from the events of the last two days. What few events she could remember, anyhow. Most were fragments, little glimpses of her confrontation with the so-called Mother, but the pieces were too few and too scattered to weave a coherent narrative.

  What else did she expect? After suffering through so much disappointment from “therapy” and “experts,” why did she think this would be any different? The Mother was simply a disgusting voyeur, preying and perverting her already troubled memories.

  Ha, if a twisted breacher refused to deliver solace, then what would?

  Her past may be unrecoverable, forever abandoned to the infinity of the multiverse. Yet the recent words of a troublesome man lingered within her mind, refusing to leave her be with her self-loathing. It was strange to hear such…compassion from a “weak man” like him. Messages of hope, promise, and compassion. Perhaps he pitied her, perhaps he sympathized, perhaps he was fond of her, but regardless…

  They belonged to the same cynical man who’d indulged in vigilantism, who had stood against a castle without fear. He was a brute who had pummeled a criminal’s face until it was purple-and-black—and somehow, he couldn’t have feigned those delicate silver eyes. His words had touched her more deeply than any hollow gesture by “specialists” and embraced her sorrow with his own.

  One day, maybe, she would remember. No doubt Alexander would be there; although she didn’t know him well, she instinctively knew he would gloat and have his chuckle and precious smile.

  The door opened, startling her.

  Two idiotic men waltzed inside. One was wearing casual clothes, but they were terrible at hiding the mummy-wraps underneath. The other refused to wear normal clothing and insisted on striding around with his bare chest like an exhibitionist. Louis and Cyrus respectively, and they were here to deliver their sentence.

  Lyressa sat taller as Cyrus stood on the opposite side of the room, facing her with his arms crossed and his characteristically dour countenance. On the other hand, Louis approached his desk to charge his phone, muttering something to himself. Even after a prolonged battle, his fingers were deft and he logged onto his computer, presumably checking his emails.

  This was rather uncomfortable. And irritating. She cleared her throat. “Please bring down the gavel and I’ll carry on with my night.”

  Cyrus sneered, darkening his animalistic eyes.

  Louis continued to check emails.

  A vein popped in Lyressa’s forehead, and she could feel her ears twitching. “If this is your idea of a punishment, then I’m afraid it’s a terrible joke.”

  The men continued to say nothing to her.

  “‘Ah, yes, Cyrus, I know exactly how to drive that poor elf insane! Just walk into our office and say absolutely nothing while she squirms there like a convict watching her executioner enjoy a bagel!’”

  “I hadn’t come up with a punishment yet,” Louis commented from behind his desk, which made Lyressa feel somewhat (very) silly. “I don’t know what that lughead is doing—”

  “I have an idea,” Cyrus finally spoke, letting his arms loose but his expression still taut. “Paperwork. That…breaks people.”

  His comment made Louis stop typing and squint from his desk. “I don’t disagree, but don’t say it like that.”

  Cyrus huffed. “It’s an idea.”

  “I’ll put it in the idea box, then.” Louis walked around his desk and gestured widely at his overfilled trash-can. Then, he joined his Vice Guild Master, putting his whole attention on Lyressa. His gaze was hard, sturdy, the kind he’d have around his subordinates—but most of all, anyone who had made a grievous mistake.

  He inhaled.

  Lyressa held her breath.

  He exhaled. “Rector shared your statements with me. You couldn’t remember anything? Anything at all?”

  Slowly, she shook her head and diverted her gaze toward the floor.

  Louis smacked her lips. “Alright,” he said quietly, disappointment laced in the single word. “Alright. We’ll talk about the consequences later. How were the Angels? And that boy, Rei?”

  Even in the midst of a city-wide crisis, he has always pinned a target on Angels Guild. Lyressa fidgeted with her fingers. “They were as you expect: tired, relieved, and so on. As for the little kensei, they were perplexed about his abilities too.”

  “Bullshit,” Cyrus spouted. “They probably have another deal with the Foxmaidens. You can’t pluck a random kid like that. It’s the same with Conqueror. They know something about him that we don’t.”

  Louis locked his jaw. He wasn’t immediately disagreeing with whichever point his second had made.

  Cyrus continued his tirade, “This is their mess, Wisdom’s too. We should sweep our garbage to their side of the aisle and let them handle it. If the Union cans them, so be it. It’s what they deserve after all the stunts they’ve been pulling. They recruited that damned corpo and attracted the fuckin’ thing that took Lyressa—”

  “It perhaps didn’t help that you tried to assault them,” Lyressa murmured—

  “What was that?” Cyrus stepped forward. “Speak up, girl. What did you say—?”

  “You threatened and tried to assaulted the Angels,” she did as he said. “Inciting a fight with Alexander wasn’t productive—”

  “Alexander?”

  “Excuse me?”

  Lyressa never wished that her tongue was cut off more. She cleared her throat multiple times and continued her train of thought, “Trying to test Conqueror was the last thing you should’ve done—”

  Louis asked, his hard gaze forming once more, "You’re on a first-name basis with him? The same man who’d threatened my guild?”

  “We’ve…!” She paused, her words frozen from the men’s iron eyes. “We’ve reconciled. We’re tucking that incident away—”

  “Unbelievable!” Cyrus growled, and of all things, a tentative friendship with an Angel made him pace agitatedly.

  Louis looked just as unamused as well. “Befriending the Demonic Cult girl is a risky decision in itself.” I disagree, she’s been nothing but sweet. “But Conqueror? He’s another story.”

  “He’s suspicious,” Cyrus mentioned off to the side. “He’s sending mixed signals. Conqueror acts weak but he walks around with too much confidence for his own good. But there’s something about that bastard that bothers me. I don’t like it.”

  “He doesn’t give a damn about Glory; probably, he doesn’t give a damn about anyone or anything but himself,” Louis followed after. “You saw it for yourself: he’s intelligent. You don’t know what he’s thinking or planning. Whatever he’s offering to the Angels, it’s nothing we want to involve ourselves in. Nothing you want to involve yourself in.”

  They had the same speech when they first found out that she'd gone on a coffee-date with Leo. Only this time, instead of implying that befriending the Demonic Cult’s heiress would get her killed, they accused Alexander of being a cunning schemer. A mastermind with plans upon plans. How silly. They didn’t believe that, much like how they didn’t believe their own claims about Leo. In their long careers as Slayers, Louis and Cyrus had encountered a variety of warriors across the globe. They fought, they bled, they stalked, they adapted.

  For high-rankers, you must know your allies and enemies. For them, Leona Ryu represented a threat far beyond the influence of Glory Guild; and for Alexander Shen, he was an incomprehensible threat surrounded by questions.

  But they had never spoken to them like she had.

  “...I think you’re wrong,” Lyressa told the men so there would be no misunderstanding. “While I cannot say we’re more than acquaintances at the moment, he’s surprisingly a pleasant man despite everything.”

  Yes… Alexander was vindictive, cynical, compassionate, self-deprecating, kind and honest, violent, hopeful. He was confusing and confused. And yet, he wasn’t terrible company. Quite the opposite.

  The men’s eyes drifted down from her own. How come—? Ah, there was a helpless smile forming on her lips and quickly, she replaced it with a masculine, powerful scowl as the two dolts in front of her often wore.

  Cyrus appeared as though he had a thousand words to say, yet in the end, all he mustered was a tired pat on Louis’s back. “A single conversation made her fall for the corpo.”

  Louis had his lips locked together, refusing to respond to that—for the sake of his own sanity, it seemed.

  Lyressa felt her ears shoot straight toward the floor and heat jumped to her cheeks. Of all things these imbeciles could mention, the audacity! “Don’t suggest something like that, you fools! Gossiping about my preferences is the worst punishment you’ve concocted so far!”

  Yet… She tenderly pressed her fingers together to try and hide the scarlet overwhelming her pale skin. There should be no reason for these palpitations.

  ***

  "Sophos—!"

  “Don’t scream into the call!” Sophos yelled back enough that Wonder physically recoiled. “Why did you feel the need to call me, hmm? I’m in the middle of a wonderful inventive mood, so you’d better not ruin it with your immaturity.”

  Wonder bit his lip, restraining the urge to reach through the screen and throttle his Guild Master. “It’s chaos without you here. Master Sibyl is attempting to maintain order, but with our Guild Master's absence, things are escalating. The internationals and the Encampment are asking too many questions—"

  “Pah!” Something metallic dropped in the background. “Oops, I’ll get that later, but the chaos will die down soon enough! And besides, I'm not absent. I’m taking a pleasant work-trip to resolve our little doppelganger problem.”

  “How long will that take?”

  Sophos clicked her teeth. “What’s the correct answer?”

  Wonder wanted to scream.

  “Somehow, your silence is louder than your screaming.” Sophos chuckled and moved around somewhere. “I can’t predict these things, you know that. I already have enough grief from Zakaria—that impatient elementalist—and while our tracker hasn’t been our greatest work, this has to be! It…” She paused. “It must.”

  “Are… Are you certain this will work?"

  Sophos chuckled. “It’s created by the most beautiful genius in the world. No one’s hands but mine will open the door to the cosmos, and this is merely the first step. Be patient, Wonder. Tomorrow will surely bring fruitful gifts.”

  [Complete: Part 4 - For Remembrance]

  [Next: Part 5 - For Tomorrow]