It happened the next morning.
Before pancakes.
Before the war room debrief.
Before Azura could finish outlining Gabriel's ugly jawline on the attic chalkboard.
A knock. No—not a knock. A command.
Three hard raps.
Archie was the first to move, the blanket still tied around his shoulders like armor. Astraeus followed, flashlight tight in her hand. Azura stayed on the staircase, frozen mid-yawn.
And Azarius—quiet little Azarius—tensed so hard his cereal spoon clattered to the floor.
He hated knocks. Especially the kind that sounded like endings.
Archie opened the door only a crack. What he saw made him shove it shut again. "Suits. Black cars. Something's wrong."
Then: another knock—louder. Final.
The door opened anyway.
Six men in sharp coats. Gloves. Warrant papers that looked too crisp to be honest.
"We're here for Astraeus."
Archie's jaw clenched. "She's not going anywhere."
"Legal custody has been transferred. Biological family. DNA confirmation."
Then they said it—kidnapping.
Of Astraeus.
Azarius let out a tiny gasp. One that barely registered. One he wished he could suck back in.
"What are you talking about?" Astraeus snapped.
"Your birth mother. Archielle. Taken. Memory compromised. Hidden by—"
They glanced at the photo of Azrael pinned to the fridge.
Like he was a monster.
Like he was *anyone* but Dad.
Azarius's chest tightened. He looked at the men. The papers. The hands on weapons.
His breathing hitched.
They stepped forward.
Archie moved fast—body between Astraeus and the strangers, like a dam holding back a flood. Azura grabbed Astraeus's hand, refusing to let go.
That's when it happened.
A jab. A needle. Archie dropped—hard. Like a puppet cut loose.
"No—!" Azura screamed.
Azarius's knees buckled.
The hallway spun.
Noise became white static. His breath caught, but wouldn't come back. Hands clawed at his hoodie. Tight. Tight. Too tight.
A panic attack. The worst one in years.
He collapsed near the couch, curled into himself, breath rasping sharp like cracked glass. "I can't—I can't—I can't—" he whimpered.
Azura screamed again as guards pulled Astraeus away.
She fought like a lion cub. Kicked. Bit.
But Astraeus saw Azarius—saw him struggling, eyes wide and terrified—and she *stopped*.
"If I go," she whispered, "will you stop hurting them?"
No answer.
But they eased up.
"I'll go," she said again, louder. Her voice cracked like thin ice. "I'll go, just—*please*—don't touch them again."
The last she saw as she was dragged out was Archie twitching on the floor and Azarius hyperventilating, face red and eyes blank with fear.
No goodbyes.
No chance to run.
Only silence—and the black car swallowing her whole.
### **Meanwhile – Maximum Security Prison**
Azrael had been beaten again.
Not badly enough to kill.
Just enough to bruise. To punish.
To *remind him* what they thought he was.
The guards had tossed a file in front of him hours ago.
He hadn't touched it.
But he read the label a hundred times.
*ASTRAEUS DE LUCIA.**
Not Wolfe. Not his name. Not anymore.
His head rested against the cold steel wall. He didn't cry. Crying would have helped. But he was too far beyond it now.
"They took her," he whispered.
To himself. To no one.
"They took *my* girl."
His ribs ached where the last guard kicked him.
He barely noticed.
Someone walked past his cell. A prisoner, laughing. "They say your kid ain't yours. That's gotta hurt, huh?"
Azrael didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Didn't breathe—for one full beat.
Then he looked up.
And said, voice hoarse but steady:
"She's still mine. Doesn't matter what name's on the paper."
And then, quieter:
"I'm still her dad."
Back Home—War Room, Missing a General
Azura paced.
Archie had come to. Dizzy. Furious. And too weak to stop her.
Azarius was curled in a corner now, wrapped in a weighted blanket, staring at nothing. Still trembling. Still apologizing, even though no one blamed him.
"I should've done something," he muttered over and over.
"I should've helped her."
Azura pulled the crayon-drawn map off the attic wall and stabbed a thumbtack through Gabriel's head.
"Then we get her back," she said.
Archie limped over, gripping the railing like it might break under his hand. "We find Dad. We find Astraeus. We end this."
"But... what if we can't?" Azarius croaked. "What if we're just... kids?"
Azura crouched beside him, eyes burning.
"Then we'll be kids with a mission."
Archie stood above them both.
"Operation: Home Again," he said.
And this time—they all said it with him.
Even Azarius, between shaking breaths.
(Started: 21/06/2025 - Finished: 21/06/2025 - Published: 30/06/2025)
(Written By OW1 and OW4 - reviewed by OW3 - Proofread by OW2)