Yixing checked his phone as it buzzed, sighing in what he supposed should have been relief.

He typed back a confirmation to Luna and chucked his phone onto his bed just to let out some of the frustration building in his limbs. By luck or misfortune—he would see—the target of the feather ended up being one of Chanyeol’s marks. Seeing as the fire angel was closer to the Baekhyun person, Yixing had Luna take over Chanyeol’s mark on the Sehun person instead. They would be spread thinner, but the humans would be better protected.

Another marked true neutral soul and impossibly fortuitous timing. The aura magnetism potion had to be used almost as soon as it was brewed, so combined with the facts that Kai reacted to it and that this Oh Sehun had gone on a field trip to Izid proved too uncanny for Yixing. Izid’s usual inhabitants having a true neutral person was, of course, possible, but his instincts couldn’t put aside the idea that this had all been calculated.

Hayong was targeting true neutral souls—that much was clear. She only needed one as far as Yixing knew but having a backup would be useful to her. Though, if she had escaped past the mountains, Yixing couldn’t think of how she would return to their cities to get them. Her earth angel accomplice would only be able to get so far with their team guarding them... No, Yixing had to be prepared, to focus on who she was more likely to target.

From what Kai reported, Sehun would’ve been the most compatible soul to absorb. If he had just recently realized that not having a reason to live was no longer true, then his aura would still be stable within the neutral range. From what Chanyeol told him, Baekhyun’s aura swung back and forth and recently had been leaning towards positivity since meeting him and Minseok again.

Yixing gave himself a moment to smile at the relationships for his friend and for his teammate. Minseok regained his old friend, and Chanyeol gained a new love.

That was, unfortunately, the only good news. He sighed, and as his eyes fell on Suho’s letters, Yixing felt another wave of worry in addition to the guilt whenever he thought too hard about their circumstances. He was using him, yes—but out of a greater good and in a way that wouldn’t harm the water demon. Yixing hoped so at least.

The closer they approached to Hayong or Minseok’s transformation, the more that correct information about proxies mattered. Originally, Yixing had held back the details because their revelation would’ve only put Minseok at risk, but now perhaps he should tell his teammates so that they know of the danger ahead—they needed Hayong to take back her aura or somehow expel it from him when the time came or else Minseok could die. Yixing had already hinted at this information before, when Chen asked, so he wouldn’t have to set the clue up for Suho.

He considered, however, setting up the clues to a corrected concept of dilution. Though Suho connected the dilution of angelic aura using neutral souls, he hadn’t connected the necessity of a true neutral to permanently bind the angelic soul to a human disposition, which also meant that he hadn’t factored in the particularities of timing regarding the starter aura. He also focused on Hayong as if she were the proxy rather than the instigator. Her turning human and her turning Minseok were two different processes.

Currently, Yixing didn’t need this information explicitly given to him from Suho, but an ominous shade tapped at his shoulder, and Yixing couldn’t shake the feeling. It crept up his back and sneered taunts in his ear no matter how he tried to reassure himself. Shaking his head, he decided to tell Commander Unmaik to prompt Suho to search in one of his old notebooks. He had just grabbed his pen and paper when the feeling of a portal quivered behind him.

He spun around. Aura quaked the air before he even saw its owner, and Yixing knelt as his commander walked into the bedroom, the heavenly glow pulsing.

“Commander Tongza, welcome to my apartment.”

For a moment, silence dominated. His commander usually replied quickly and efficiently, but Yixing didn’t look, just kept his head bowed as appropriate of his status.

And braced himself as the earth element magnified its pressure.

“Yixing, I assume that you know of the priority put on this case, yet crucial information has yet to be reported from you, such as the location of the stolen souls.”

“Yes, my commander.”

“You noted their appearance and disappearance from Morris Cabin, then dropped the subject from the last three reports. Are the souls of humans not worthy of your mention?”

“Of course, they are, my commander.”

“Then where is your information about them?”

“I have no leads nor updates to report from the field. Last time, we only managed to know the area to investigate because the proxy’s friend had access to rumors, and I was under the impression that we only needed to report when changes happened—”

“So you will only act after information falls into your lap? That must be why you didn’t bother reporting your next plan of action—you don’t intend to do anything.”

“No, sir, I—”

“And yet, your team is at once stretched too thin and desultorily idle. You allowed not only the proxy to attend his frivolous human matters as if he was not a risk and dire part of your mission, but also stationed team members to an area of no particular interest to you or the mission. What was the spatial demon doing in Izid when you had already assigned the lightning demon to be the proxy’s guard? Are the demons of Tehom so lowly to need numbers to compensate for strength? Are they so irresponsible to not adhere to their assigned tasks?”

Yixing paused. His commander’s words stuck him as odd, but he couldn’t ponder how or why. An old pride swelled in indignance and snapped out of his mouth before he could stop it.

“The demons of Tehom are skilled in their own right. The information they provide is pertinent if not breakthroughs for the mission. Their jobs are done thoroughly, and I know plenty of angels whose timeliness pales in comparison to theirs.”

The aura in the air slipped from its control the tiniest bit, now choking, the tension pressing into Yixing’s being. At the last second, he pulled his own flares of aura back in submission, in deference. He didn’t dare to look up.

“Watch your tongue, angelic.”

Angelic? Why didn’t his commander call him an angel, like he usually did to those under his glory?

“You obviously do not understand the hardships of power, of being an angel commander, or living for enough angelic years to be triple the years of your existence. I have seen the mistakes that angelics like yourself make in the attempts to protect these humans. You think that they will feel gratitude for safety that they cannot see? Do you think that you will feel fulfilled as long as you attempted to protect them? That thinking is pathetically naïve. I see it in your reports and your actions. If demons live by missions and accomplishments and receive empty praise, then angels live by the promise of altruism and receive emptiness.”

His commander’s breathing turned ragged, and his aura pushed in further, choking Yixing. The feeling of stones pelting him, digging into his aura, sinking into his being, made Yixing clench at his chest. Then his commander pulled back his anger, and Yixing gasped as the pressure lessened.

“Are you happy, Yixing? Did you achieve what you wanted?”

For a moment, he just breathed. He had to for his body and for time to process those questions. They had lost their rage. They tapered at the end, and Yixing felt the earth aura tremble weakly in spurts, as if the energy to represent living no longer mattered.

He didn’t understand what his commander wanted or what he would gain from his answers. Commander Tongza was not like Commander Suho, someone genuinely curious of Yixing’s intents and mind. No one could ever know his secrets. His commander’s accusations, the criticism, the tardiness of aid—Yixing wouldn’t excuse them, but he also knew that a part of him could never lie to a person who sounded so lost.

“I don’t know if I achieved what I wanted. I don’t even remember why I had thought that the method I chose would help me achieve it. But after meeting some good people, I feel that I am happy.”

The tension in the air released, but Yixing thought that it retracted a little too fast, like it had jerked back from pain.

“I see.”

Aura quivered again, and his commander’s presence faded into the portal. Feeling it safe to look up, Yixing did and sighed in relief to see and feel that his commander had definitely left. He stood, dropped into his desk chair, and stared up at the ceiling.

The censure he had faced before. Even his commander coming in person to castigate him, although surprising, still settled within the expectations of the angelic spheres, but those questions and the arguments of Commander Tongza’s criticism pricked at Yixing’s mind. For one, why hadn’t he mentioned D.O’s station at Izid? Yixing had included it in his report. He wasn’t a demon of Tehom, and Juzhou’s forests held Morris Cabin, so maybe his commander had found no fault in that.

But the head angel’s attacks were specifically on Kai and Chen and the fact that they were demons of Tehom. Why? And why had he asked Yixing if he was happy, if he had achieved what he wanted? He hadn’t known what Commander Tongza was referring to and vice-versa, but his commander had accepted his answer so easily. What was more, despair had bogged the earth angel’s last acknowledgement.

Drumming his fingers on his knee, Yixing tried to keep the act to his hands when he felt anxiety flood up his body, but the ominous shade laughed and diffused out as the anxiousness did. He jumped out of his chair and whipped his head back and forth, looking for signs of life. And when he saw none, he yanked his blanket off his bed and bound his body within it. Just in case.

He felt the dark parts of his aura deepen and hum alongside his emotions, and he shrank into the blanket, trying to find reassurance. Before, this method would work, but relief didn’t come as his mind raced through nameless dangers and faceless enemies. Yixing couldn’t recognize any of them except for the one that followed him no matter what he did—death.

He buried his face into the cloth, shutting his eyes and flinching at the indistinct images of all he wanted to avoid. He nearly slammed a hand to the ground to open a portal, to take himself away to a place that wrapped him in that in-between he could never escape but still somehow comforted him. But then the images stopped on a familiar figure, where cerulean shined in the eyes and red danced in the hair. Confusion startled him to a stop. Why would he seek out the demon commander? He barely knew him. His interest had to remain as purely that right now. He had already decided.

But the longer Yixing saw this image of the demon on the inside of his eyelids, the more he saw the mushroom light glowing in his eyes, heard the ethereal existence of his chuckle, felt the atmosphere of acceptance as they spoke of topics no one would bother with outside of those who had helped Yixing in the past.

Determination surged through his body, overtaking the anxiousness, pushing him forward to his desk. He grabbed his pen and paper and wrote without thinking. He wrote until the ominous shade had finally slunk back to the shadows, and Yixing sent the letter before he could second guess his impulse. He managed to take a deep breath, and air filled him a little fuller and calmer, even as the shade’s laugh echoed in the back of his mind.

~~~~~

Suho let out an exhale upon hearing another parchment land on his desk. He knew that pushing his duties to the side to work on Kai’s aura container would give him a mountain of files to read at once, but he had gone through with it anyways and was now performing catch-up. Although he supposed that the number of writs for approval and information also increased due to recent events, namely the death of a first angel and Minseok’s turning into a demon.

The Arche Glory had been sending out notices regarding the security of souls and prevention of another accidental proxy but none about what would happen to Minseok afterwards, so Suho had drafted a letter of intent and sent it in preemptively. He would shelter and train the human-turned-demon and grant him a place in his unit if he so accepted the offer.

The only disgruntlement he received was questioning whether Minseok would be fit enough to be useful in a high-angelic mission and if he would be trained well, not if he would accept the offer. Though, Suho supposed that most other angelics wouldn’t question it at all—in their eyes, Minseok had to join a legion or else.

But Suho would give him the choice. Even though Chen had already asked if he could join Tehom at the proxy’s request, Suho would ask again for confirmation and grant any requests to leave too.

Signing his name for the last document and sending it through a port, he reached behind him and grabbed his journal and the Encyclopedia of Ariba, flipping to his notes. He had revisited his current theory an unhealthy number of times, but the uncertainty washed over him every time he thought of anything related to his demons’ mission, including what he wrote in his most recent letter to Yixing.

If Hayong wanted the souls of true neutral humans to dilute her demonic aura, where would the end be? She wouldn’t be able to cut off her connection to Hell no matter how many or what kind of souls she used, and Suho somehow doubted that a former level three purgatory guard of hell would be oblivious to the unsustainability of her methods or the futility of that goal. She and her accomplice already broke several of the highest laws—there would be no escape from capture nor judgement.

So what was her scheme in the long-run? If she succeeded in turning human and blended amongst them, why would an angelic want to do so? She absorbed human souls without regard to their wellbeing, so why become a wanted criminal to walk amongst them?

Knowing that he wouldn’t come to a conclusion, he tapped his fingers on the emerald plating of the Encyclopedia. He knew he wasn’t desperate enough for the book to reveal anything to him—as dire as this mission was to the angelic spheres—but the gleams of the green taunted him to find that desperation for himself, like his lieutenant had done. He shook his head, but his eyes trailed back to the tome, and his hand reached out.

A light tap of another paper landing on his desk reminded him of the work he had to do, of his duties and how he was needed in this present. Suho replaced his journal and the Encyclopedia back on his auxiliary table and turned for the file that had saved his sanity for a little longer. It wasn’t a report or writ but a hastily addressed letter to him, and he snatched it up once he recognized the handwriting before pausing at his sudden fervor. He cleared his throat to no one and opened the letter from Yixing.