The morning brought no answers for Gunwoo.  Only a clearer head and more daylight hours to play with.  He emerged from his room to find Kibum gone, attending his hated Friday morning class no doubt.  But he hadn’t forgotten about his roomie, and Gunwoo was appreciative to find a stack of pancakes in the fridge.  There was a one word sticky note sitting on top of the see through plastic.

                EAT!

                With a smile and a laugh, he did just that, after warming them up of course.  They would have been better fresh but he wasn’t about to complain.  Belly full, he checked in for a shower, snagged a new pair of clothes, and hurried out into the bright morning light.  With his hands stuffed into his pants pockets, he hunched his shoulders and made his way to Mystic’s Oasis.  Even though he knew it was impossible for any angels to be here already, he felt terribly exposed when outside.  The sensation only faded a little bit when he stepped in the back entrance using his spare key.

                “Yah!” the shout behind him gave him just enough warning to duck, covering his head with his hands defensively.

                “Ow!” he yelped from the glancing blow of a hard wooden stick, risking a glance over his shoulder to see why he was being attacked.

                “Gunwoo?” Sandara murmured in surprised confusion, immediately dropping her weapon: an upside down broomstick.  “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” she rambled, dancing in place worriedly when it was clear she had no idea how to respond.

                “What was that for?” Gunwoo asked with a grimace, rolling his smarting shoulder out before he stood upright again.

                “I thought you were a burglar or something!” she explained frantically, her cute face pinched in distress under the mess of her sloppily pinned up hair.

                “At this time of day?” he barked a laugh before gently pushing past her to get into the main part of the shop, doing his best to ignore the ugly white shirt with a gaudy mismatch of decorations on it – a gift from a customer no doubt.  You couldn’t buy that kind of… attire in stores.

                “You’re never here this early,” Sandara defended herself, gesturing with both hands.  When he just shrugged, some of her frantic energy dissipated and she calmed enough to ask, “What are you doing here this early?  You don’t have an appointment until this afternoon,” she added, tapping her wristwatch with one finger.

                Gunwoo shrugged again as he let his eyes slide around the room, trying to figure out what would indicate he was here.  Any pursuers he had wouldn’t be able to see him as far out as they were, but the closer they got to Earth, the easier it would be to start tracking him down.  He could feel her eyes on him, questions crowding behind her teeth as she attempted not to assault him with them.

                “I might have to leave town for a while,” he finally admitted, turning around to face her with the forced flash of a smile.

                “Eh?!” she gasped in dumbfounded surprise.  Then she laughed and waved his news off as she came over to clap him on the shoulder, obviously relieved.  “If that was all it was, you could have told me when you came in for your appointment later,” Sandara grinned, patting him on the back once before she was moving again.

                Gunwoo watched her with a sad smile on his face as she busied herself behind the counter, laying out crystals and gems for display, going through her inventory, and generally getting ready for the business day.  He envied her that quiet contentment and, with another pang of sadness, he realized it was something else he was going to miss.  After a few minutes, he watched her realize he was still there and a flicker of concern returned to her brown eyes.

                Taking a breath while she threaded her fingers together and leaned over the counter with her elbows resting on the glass, Sandara sighed.  “When you say a while…” she trailed off, mouth quirked to the side for him to fill in the blank.  He shrugged mutely, both hands rising to either side of him so that he bumped into one of the shelves, knocking off a brightly colored bookmark from the endcap.  “That is not helpful,” she scoffed, her lips pressing together when he picked the item up and put it back in its place.  “You’re not in trouble are you?” she wondered aloud, her worried mother side starting to peek through again.

                “Nah.  Nothing like that,” he assured with a vague sense of guilt.  He wasn’t in the trouble she was thinking but neither was he being wholly honest.  “I’ll finish up the appointments into next week but I’ll need to close up shop after that,” he explained, scratching his head as he looked away.

                “Anything I can do to help?” Sandara asked, wandering out from behind the counter to grab his upper arm with a supportive hand.

                “Just keep the shop open while I’m gone.  Can’t have you going under without me around.”  He gave her a crooked smile and she punched him lightly in the shoulder.

                “Brat!  I managed well enough before you came around, you know?”  Her words were boastful but her smile was sad.  “And even if you are good for business, with your pretty face and your mystic allure,” she pointed out in a teasing tone, posturing with her palms open under her chin and then swirling a hand in the air as if it was magic, “I’ll manage somehow or other.”

                “I know,” he agreed, reaching out to ruffle the top of her hair, further messing up the already untamable mess.

                “Ugh!  That’s rude!” she pointed at him, standing on her tip toes to quickly return the favor.

                “Hey!” he laughed on mock outrage.

                “Hah!” Sandara pointed at him before running away to hide rather unsuccessfully behind the glass counter.  She looked like a little kid with her fingertips holding onto the edge and just the top half of her face peering over the surface.

                “And you say I’m the brat,” he huffed in amusement with another shake of his head.  “I’ll let you know if anything changes, but until then, I’ll see you this afternoon,” he waved, head slightly bowed as he trudged towards the back of the store.

                “See you later!” Sandara immediately got up to wave, running around again to see him off.  “Remember!  I’m here if you want to talk about it!”

                Gunwoo nodded in silence, sending a small wave over his shoulder so that he didn’t have to look back.  With a turn of the handle and a click of the bolt, he retreated from her haven and immersed himself in the flow of the human world again.  He was hoping some idea or thought would come to him out of the ether, but Mystic’s Oasis had provided none after all.  So much for the magic he needed…  But at least he’d been able to clear things up with Sandara.  It didn’t make him feel better about the whole thing, but it was kind of nice that he did know people who at least appeared to care about him.  Like genuinely care.

                The thought prompted a slew of others to follow as he started to move again.  His mother pretending to have his best interest in mind when she talked of arranged marriages and living up to his heritage; his father trying to give him the freedom to be his own angel but failing when his own inability to sire any other offspring made him look to his son to take up the mantel; his cousin treating him like a normal person and not the heir to the Empire.  He’d had servants and attendants and guards that had…  Guards.  It had been some time since he’d thought about them.  Which was ironic, all things considered.

                He’d had the same guards since shortly before the non-aggression pact had been signed between angels and demons.  When they were still fighting each other, they had been deemed necessary.  Older than him by several decades, they’d been one of the only other constants in his life.  His guards, friends, and brothers.  Seyong and Changmin.  They would have followed him to the ends of the universe if he’d asked.  Died for him if they had to.  And he’d left them, just like that.

                Gunwoo paused with a guilty frown on his face as he grabbed his left arm with his right hand.  Not for the first time, he wondered what had happened to them.  Oh, he knew what the most probable answers were, but he didn’t know and that bothered him.  Seyong would probably be alright regardless.  He was a Royal after all.  Even if you were deemed a failure, Royals weren’t usually just tossed aside.  But Changmin…

                He rubbed his hand hard against his arm and grimaced, looking around as if he could see the truth.  Disgusted with his thoughts, and with himself, Gunwoo mentally kicked his guilt and forced his feet to start moving again.  If he was caught after all of this, maybe he’d be able to see them and… fix things or something.  If anything needed to be fixed anyway.  Rolling his eyes at himself, he groaned, “You’re an .”

                Picking his pace up to a slow jog, Gunwoo retreated back to his apartment, knowing the only other person he really needed to speak with was Junhong.  Fortunately, he’d probably see him this weekend or early next week since Kibum fed him too well.  He was a glutton for free food, but first, Gunwoo would have to survive his worried roommate on his own.  That was no easy feat when Kibum was a relative master of unobtrusively prying and worrying an issue enough to wear the other person down.  It would be so much easier if he didn’t care, both Kibum and Gunwoo, because leaving would be so much simpler.  As it was though, he would need to be away from them by next week at the latest.

                He’d already stayed too long in one place and he knew better.  The more stationary he was, the more the area would have traces of his presence, drawing his pursuers straight here.  While he didn’t think the angels would hurt his friends, they would certainly scare the stars out of them, regardless if they knew anything or not.  And he didn’t want that.  Veering away from the thought, Gunwoo had to pry his fists open with effort.  He hadn’t even realized he’d closed them.  Damn.  He was attached.

                Leaning back in his chair, he scrubbed his face with both hands before putting the holoscreen back up inside his drawer.  “Normal.  Act normal.  You can do this,” he tried to psych himself up, ready to step out of his room again after finding no new information after three off and on days of searching.  Only eleven days left.  Give or take.  Unlocking the door, he frowned in thought when he heard two voices.  Kibum and… Junhong?  How long had he been in his room for?  Squinting back inside, he caught sight of the digital clock on his shelves and his eyes widened.  Almost six?!  Kibum was gonna kill him.

                Carefully, he shut the door behind him and then slunk down the hall leading to the kitchen and living room.  He could see Junhong in the latter, still with that same, eye-burning shade of red hair.  He was watching something on the TV – it looked like another upcoming A&D clip - and half-paying attention.  Gunwoo nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand slammed down on his shoulder, pulling him around to face the steely eyes and fake smile of an irritated Kibum.

                “There you are!” he announced with saccharine sweetness, setting every nerve of Gunwoo’s on end.  That was not a voice he wanted directed towards him.

                “Hey Woo!” Junhong grinned, pivoting on the couch to better see him as he waved nonchalantly.

                “Hey,” he nodded back, trying to still his racing heart from Kibum’s continued attention.

                “I was just telling Junhongie about how you will be leaving us for a while,” he started to speak as he undid the pink cooking apron from around his waist.  “And he agrees that you are a terrible person for avoiding me these past few days,” he added with a finger in Gunwoo’s face, laying the guilt on extra thick.  “Also for not telling him yet.”  Crossed arms and a jutting hip followed, the combination of which, with Kibum’s arched glare, made Gunwoo want to disappear into the carpeted floor.

                “Yeah, Woo!” Junhong added as he stood up.  “I’m your friend too, aren’t I?”  The utterly unmanly pout he sent Gunwoo’s way reminded the angel of a child, and while it compounded the guilt, it also made him laugh.  The giant in the room also looked like the youngest, never mind that he was.  “It’s not funny,” Junhong murmured, his pout intensifying as it became more genuine.

                Immediately, Gunwoo tried to stifle his amusement but the whole situation just seemed so ridiculous.  He held up his hand to stall and buy time, but it was absurd that he was worried about these people, these humans he had never intended to get close to, when he had angels coming to retrieve him and drag him back to a life he didn’t want.  Of course they didn’t know that, and he couldn’t tell them, but it did feel strangely unreal to him.  “No,” he admitted with a nod, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead with his fingers.  “I just don’t know how else to react.”  It was more the truth than he’d intended to say and he grimaced.

                “Then tell us,” Kibum immediately reacted, grabbing Gunwoo’s other hand in both of his, seeing the chink in his friends armor and trying to pry it open.

                “It’s just like I told you,” he shrugged, partially turning away, though Kibum held onto his hand.  “I may have to go home and I don’t want to.”  His discontent was so real and honest, he almost missed the fact that Kibum was pulling him into the living room.  Just as quickly, the smaller man abandoned him so that it was just him and Junhong.  Honestly, it felt weird to be standing when the cushions were right there, and he certainly couldn’t retreat now.  That would be intolerably rude and Kibum might not forgive him for it.  Which could be better in the long run… but he didn’t want it to be that way.

                “Not so good home life?” Junhong asked as he followed Gunwoo’s example and took a seat diagonal to him.

                “You said it,” he nodded with a sigh, sinking back into the soft couch.  Staring at his interlaced fingers on his lap, he muttered, “Controlling mother, always busy father, and…”  He glanced up when he realized he was going to mention his arranged marriage – that didn’t really happen much here though.  “And several people I left on not so good terms with,” he amended instead, rubbing the back of his head in agitation.

                “Here,” Kibum appeared again with a plate of chicken stir-fried vegetables over white rice.  “You missed lunch again today,” he chided with a sad sigh.  The second plate he gave to Junhong before going back for his own meal.

                “Thanks Kibum,” Junhong grinned, digging in happily before he turned serious again as he focused on Gunwoo who grunted in appreciation at his roommate.  “So who found you?” he asked around a bite of food.

                Staring at the steam rising from his meal, Gunwoo answered by rote, laughing once.  “My cousin actually.  Apparently he’s been looking for me for a while.”  The edges of his mouth pulled into a rueful smile.

                “It’s nice that he let you stay to get things sorted out though,” Kibum offered before taking a small bite of his food, nodding in satisfaction at the taste.  “I mean, if he’s been looking for you for this long, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he just tried to make you go then and there.”

                “Yeah,” Gunwoo agreed hollowly.  He’d already thought about that.  And it was nice, but it was also probably because there were too many people around and his chances of being seen too high.  Standard protocol did demand reporting in before taking action, but sometimes exceptions were made and allowed.

                “So where do your parents live again?” Junhong asked, his plate lowered as he waited for a response.  “I mean, maybe we can come visit sometime.  Once things quiet down and all.  If you can’t come back for a while,” he shrugged, clearly floundering for a nice way to speak his thoughts.

                Gunwoo shook his head and nibbled on a piece of chicken.  “Eh.  They don’t really like guests,” he explained with a frown.

                Kibum’s frown matched his as a suspicious gleam flickered in his eyes.  “Then maybe you’ll finally get a phone so we can keep in touch with you.”

                “No cell phone towers,” the angel responded.

                “What?” Junhong gasped in disbelief, eyes wide at the mere possibility.

                “Land line then,” Kibum pointed determinedly.

                “I don’t know if they have one,” he answered reflexively, knowing even as he said it how lame that sounded.

                “Woo,” Kibum spoke in a warning tone, his gaze never wavering.  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to shut us out.”  Gunwoo winced and tried to open his mouth to respond, but Kibum ran over him.  “And don’t even try to tell me it’s because your family wouldn’t like us.  We could always see you away from them after all.”  Unfortunately, Gunwoo had no good, reasonable response to that and he fell silent, staring at the rest of his food.

                Both he and Kibum jumped when Junhong shouted.  “Oh!  Those are Captains Kim and Jung!” he pointed, eyes wide as he focused on the screen.  Racing for the control, he cranked the volume as the other two tried to make sense of what was going on.  It was sheer chaos on screen, with winged bodies running everywhere in mass confusion.

                “Wait!  Back it up!” Gunwoo waved frantically, his eyes going wide and his pulse increasing.  It couldn’t be…

                Glancing furiously between the remote and the screen, Junhong fumbled to do just that.  Much too slow, Kibum reached over to snatch it away, clicking rewind to try and find where things went crazy.

                “There!” the angel gasped, flinching when he saw the two flying down to land after their individual demonstrations.

                Similar to last time, they presented a show together, but then split off to work with their squads separately.  It looked like they had five members each; a fair number to be training when they had barely learned to fly themselves.  The announcer confirmed it a second later: “Welcome back folks!  Today we’re in for a rare treat as A&D has given us permission to take a look at a training session for the newest recruits in the genetic splicing program.  Looking dour as usual, there’s Captain Jung, leader of the DSS as he takes to the sky to teach his team how to fight and fly.  For those just tuning in, that’s the Demon Spliced Squadron.  Remember folks.  He’s the first successful Demon DNA splicing subject and as you can see here, the results have been just fantastic,” he went on, pointing out his successful military record where he joined the army instead of going to college and then volunteered for this experiment.

                “And on the other side of the yard, we can see Captain Kim instructing the recruits of the , and that stands for the Angel Spliced Squadr- What?” he paused when someone was obviously speaking to him from off the screen.  Definitely a live broadcast then.  “It’s not squadron?” he asked in confusion, comprehension dawning when he checked his notes again.  “Oh goodness!” he laughed at himself, forcing a smile as he struggled to recover.  “I believe the correct term is platoon.  Yes!  The Angel Spliced Platoon,” he tried again, nodding at his assistants off to the side.

                The whole flub would have been funny if Gunwoo wasn’t paying more attention to what was happening behind him.  While Wonshik was running ground drills, Taekwoon was practicing air combat by taking all his trainees on.  They looked like fledglings getting used to their wings, all awkward grace and tumbling antics, but even babes could get lucky sometimes.  Slightly overwhelmed by the sheer press of them, he could see Taekwoon starting to panic, the dual sensation of being airborne and surrounded by demonic based people getting under his skin.  One of the men tried to fly in, approaching Taekwoon head on.

                It was the charge that prompted his reaction.  Gunwoo watched as instinct took over, the natural reaction of raising his hand to try and stop something, even though it should have been useless.  But then his opponent just locked up, freezing in place.  Immediately, he started to fall from the air and Taekwoon’s face reflected just as much confused horror as the victim.

                “Something’s wrong!” the announcer cried as the camera became mobile, shaking violently when they tried to get a better look.

                “He used hold,” Gunwoo gasped with an open mouth, the utterance lost in the madness.

                The other trainees scattered in a frightened dash to escape the strange happening, but the Angel Captain ran right towards them.  “Taekwoon!” he shouted, white wings partially flared.  He was snarled by the press of people around him and the chaotic skies as his trainees took to the air like a flock of spooked birds.

                “Wait!” Taekwoon pleaded as he settled on the ground next to the injured trainee, an unnaturally bent arm curled beside the unconscious body.  “Help me!” the demon-man shouted desperately, reaching his hand out again as if he could make them stay.  And for a second, one fleeing trainee did stop, briefly turning into a living statue.  Fear washed over Taekwoon’s pale face as his cat-like eyes widened while he stared at his hands as if he didn’t know them.

                The announcer was yelling something over the crowd of onlookers, trying to give some sort of ignorant explanation of what was going on.  Gunwoo wanted to shove him out of the way as he saw Taekwoon crumbling under what he had done.  Panic and fear rose anew when armed soldiers flowed out to start surrounding him, guns aimed at the downed man.

                “Get down on the ground!” one soldier commanded, his face hard and his voice harder.

                “What’s happening to me?!” Taekwoon cried on his knees, looking around the circle of hostile faces with his hands shifting like he could stop them all.  Wings twitched, partially furled but tense.

                “I said get down on the ground!” the leader repeated himself, taking a step forward.

                “What’s wrong with me?!” the demon-man screamed, hands extended to ward them off.  And Gunwoo could practically see the will behind the magic force it to react.

                “I can’t move!” one of the men shouted in fear.

                “Stop it!” Wonshik roared, finally jumping over the line of soldiers with a flap of his wings.

                “Let him go!” the commanding officer shouted.

                “Captain!” another frozen soldier cried out.

                “I don’t know how!” Taekwoon keened, hands into his hair as he curled into himself.

                “Fire!”

                All three viewers jumped at the sound of immediate gunshots, the camera suddenly blocked by the cameraman falling to the ground.  Kibum used both hands to cover his mouth.  Junhong and Gunwoo watched in open mouthed horror.  “Oh my god,” the announcer muttered as the camera shakily got back up, panning to see through the circle of soldiers.

                Gunwoo blinked in disbelief, but there was absolutely no mistaking it.  White wings covered Taekwoon protectively while Wonshik defended him with his body.  But there wasn’t a single wound on his person.  “Circle of protection,” Gunwoo whispered when he saw the telltale ring of bullets resting about a foot away from the two figures in the center.

                “Don’t shoot!” Wonshik called out as he lifted his head, his voice shaking as much as his bottom jaw.

                “Stand down!” a powerful, booming voice swept the training grounds.

                Jerking uncertainly, the camera bounced between the angel and demon and the trio of approaching figures.  It eventually steadied on the tall, obviously military individual with coal black hair and an immaculate, gray uniform.  “It’s Commander Choi,” the announcer whispered into his microphone, clearly afraid of drawing attention to himself.  His face looked like it could have been carved from stone, but there was no mistaking the powerful persona in the dark eyes that looked over the scene.  An almost immediate calm began to settle in place and the soldiers nearest him backed away carefully, revealing the two walled within.

                Despite his façade, though, he was nervous.  A slight tightening in his jaw gave him away, and Gunwoo realized he hadn’t known what they were capable of.  Just behind him was the well known owner and President of A&D, Kyuhyun Cho.  Of course he was present, constantly overseeing his more profitable pet projects, but he was openly astounded and even more nervous.  He kept his full lips as he brushed uselessly at dark brown hair.  It was so normal and expected that the next figure completely stole Gunwoo’s attention by his complete and utter acceptance of the situation.

                Tension ran through everyone, but the tall, stoic man that approached Taekwoon and Wonshik was anything but surprised.  Shaking his black bangs out of his face, the stranger’s piercing, narrow eyes met theirs evenly without a trace of fear.  Open hands gestured calmly as he moved closer, soothing the angel and demon as much as the men around them.  “It’s okay,” he murmured in a soft, controlled voice, projecting confidence he shouldn’t have had in that situation.

                Tilting his head in confusion as one eye squinted at the screen, Gunwoo whispered, “He knew this might happen.”  He wasn’t sure why he felt that but he knew it was the truth.  With a surprised gasp, Gunwoo’s eyes widened and he asked, “Who is that?”

                In his periphery, Kibum shook his head mutely, but Junhong waved a hand without taking his eyes off the screen.  “That’s Myungsoo Kim.  He’s the assistant secretary between President Cho, Commander Choi, and Doctor Kim,” he explained.  “He coordinates all their meetings and maintains all their schedules in the A&D program and how is he doing that?!” he hissed in frightened excitement, eyes wide and hands open, pointed towards the screen.

                Gunwoo understood Junhong’s lack of understanding.  Any normal human should be afraid; they sensed the differentness of angels and demons on a subconscious level without even knowing why.  It was their body’s natural reaction to an alien presence more powerful than theirs, like the relationship between predator and prey but different.  Even as he thought it, Myungsoo looked towards the camera with the barest of glances and the screen out.

                “Eh?!” Kibum and Junhong shouted at the same time, leaning forward to fiddle with the TV and remote to try and fix the loss of signal.

                “What happened?” Kibum frowned, changing channels, which showed a commercial, and then flipping back to darkness.

                “Come on!” Junhong wailed plaintively, kneeling in front of the screen as he fiddled with wires and connections.  He only succeeded in losing the signal entirely.

                “Hey!” Kibum snapped, bolting over to try and fix it himself.

                “Yah!” the taller man flinched, lurching back to stay out of his way.

                Normally, Gunwoo would have been amused by their antics, but his eyes were fixated on the screen instead.  There was no way that Myungsoo had turned to look at him.  It had to be mere chance, but he was unsettled all the same.  Not only was Gunwoo convinced that Myungsoo couldn’t be entirely human, the impossible was happening with Taekwoon and Wonshik.  The genetic splicing was working too well.  They were beginning to manifest standard angel and demon abilities.  That was more than enough to worry about, but what if the DNA they had found came from Royals?

                Swallowing hard and glancing between his friends again, he remained quiet as he leaned back and his lips.  He still didn’t have much of a plan, but he did know one thing.  Gunwoo needed to look into Myungsoo at least a little more.  Before he ran away, he’d heard rumors of some kind of liaison on Earth, a contact to keep tabs on their development with the genetic manipulation.  But they’d been just that: rumors.

                “Screw it,” he whispered under his breath.  A weak lead was better than none at all.

(a/n: Dun dun dun!  Humans turned angels and demons with manifesting powers and a new player has entered the game!  haha  A couple news faces, a little more back story, and more Key and Zelo!  ;)  The next chapter should help to explain a bit more history of the world/universe so I do hope you'll look forward to it.  Otherwise, how are things going so far?  Any questions or comments are certainly welcome.  Beyond that, I hope you guys are enjoying the story and have a great day!)