🏚️ 3:12 AM — What Was Left Behind
The house was still smoldering when she arrived.
Black boots crunched over broken glass. A long black coat swept through the doorframe. Her eyes—silver, sharp, and inhuman—scanned the ruined home with a strange calm.
The woman didn't flinch at the ash pile in the living room.
She crouched beside it, pulled out a blade—not to fight, but to carve. A small, smooth circle in the ground.
She muttered a prayer in a language that predates scripture.
Then she smiled.
"So, you've finally come back to the work, Elias."
🔥 Her Name Was Salene
Not angel. Not demon.
Something in between.
Salene had once been like Elias—chosen by the Mandate, centuries ago. But she'd disappeared from all records. Rumors said she had "retired." Others said she'd gone rogue.
Now she was back.
And she was tracking the aftermath of divine judgment.
"Sloppy," she whispered, brushing her fingers over the mark left on the wall. "He's rushing it. Or unraveling."
She didn't come to stop him.
She came to see who would survive his awakening.
🧒 8:06 AM — The Boy Who Got Away
Milo was eight.
Small, quiet, pale. Rescued from Vernon Craig's basement by regular police after Elias had gone.
No family. No name on record. He hadn't spoken since they pulled him out.
But strange things followed him now.
Lights flickering. Mirrors cracking. Adults getting sudden nosebleeds when they looked at him too long.
He sat in a child services center now, clutching a blanket and whispering to a wall.
"The fire man said it was okay."
The staff didn't know what to do with him.
Because Milo was marked.
Not by Vernon.
By Elias.
🧠Elias Dreams Again
He slept for three hours.
In that time, he relived the burn.
But this time, he wasn't alone.
A boy stood in the dream beside him. Barefoot. Ash-smeared. Watching.
He didn't speak.
Just stared.
Elias whispered, "What do you want?"
The boy turned his head.
And pointed behind him.
At a figure Elias couldn't see, but knew: Adrian Kells.
🧟 11:47 PM — Adrian Kells Regroups
Underground. Red light. Ritual chalk drawn across the floor.
Kells stood shirtless, his back covered in divine counter-runes—sigils of protection not from demons… but from judges.
He stood across from a figure in a bone mask.
Not a servant.
A partner.
"He's losing control," Kells said. "But he's stronger than we thought."
The bone-masked figure nodded.
"Then we use the echo. The boy. Turn the weapon back on the judge."
Kells grinned.
"Let's see what happens when Elias Ward is forced to choose between his power…"
"…and an innocent."