"Would you like to talk about it?"
Those were words that he really did not want to hear. Eva always seemed to have a knack for reading the wrong mood at the most inconvenient of times. He released a bitter chuckle, closing his eyes tightly and shaking his head. "Not really." His voice came out in a grunt as he ascended the rusted ladder, ignoring the pain that emanated from his jaw. He stopped climbing, his eyes closed as he remembered the look in Iras' eyes; rage mixed a deep agony. He pressed his head against the cold, rough steel, remembering watching her sink into her personal hell.
He wasn't an idiot; there were times that her left shoulder trembled, and her eyes became far and distance, losing the bright focus he loved seeing in her gaze. He had noted those moments ever since they first met; those times that she faded from reality and would sink into that hell. A soft touch from his fingers onto her skin would bring her back. Even a whisper from his lips, reminding her that she wasn't alone, could bring that piercing light into her eyes and a small smile on her lips.
None of that last night worked. Not even begging for her to listen to him, to trust him, seemed to work.
He winced, feeling the cold night air on his jaw; that not even hitting him worked.
She was his beautiful rose with sharp thorns.
Not even him holding onto her, letting those thorns pierce his flesh, brought her back to him.
Tristan shuddered, fighting back his tears as he struggled to regain focus. The ladder groaned against the weight of his guardian, descending it back towards him. He tensed as her gloved hand touch the top of his head, "Seraph, I'm fine."
"Fine, you are not. We can do this another time when you are more focused."
He laughed softly, hearing stern her voice. Underneath that calm, deep tone was gentle warmth that matched the light of the moon. He looked up at her, a rueful smile on his face, "I rather get this over with."
Seraph sighed, removing her hand from his head and using it to grip the ladder, "You're usually so much more talkative about your times with Miss Ira." Her eyes narrowed as she took in the blues and purples coloring his jaw, "...Are you still planning on talking with her after this?"
He grunted softly, his smile gone as he climbed past her, "Yeah...that's none of your business, Evie."
"You didn't even talk to Jess about this. She's worried about you."
He stopped, glaring at her with a storm of annoyance swirling in his eyes, "I'm not going to talk about this with Jess. I am NOT going to talk about this with you."
He turned away, crumbles of red and orange dust dropping from the ladder as it groaned with his ascent. With each step up, he shook off his doubts, removing distractions from his mind, and becoming ArchAngel.
Seraph shook her head, following silently after him up the tall warehouse building. The warehouse was home to one of the most significant drug operations in Monterose. Various powdered substances were exported out of this facility into other parts of the city and even linked to trades in other states. Guards stalked the perimeter surrounding the warehouse, thankfully not looking towards the skies. Whirring sounds of machinery masked the squeaks of the ladder, and the pair kept away from the bright lights streaming out of the windows.
When they reached the top, they climbed onto the roof. The pair took cautious steps to the skylight, looking down into the warehouse below. ArchAngel's eyes narrowed as he looked down inside.
"The machines are on, but I don't see any packages; no boxes, no syringes..." He tilted his head, "All guards. No workers." He looked over to Seraph, his brow furrowing underneath his ivory mask, "Something's off."
Seraph stepped forward, looking down at the skylight.
A small pale glint reflected from the glass.
Her head jolted up towards a tall building in the distance. She pulled ArchAngel by the back of his black robe, avoiding a bullet that drilled through the cement underneath his feet, "The Sniper; Envy!"
ArchAngel gasped as he fell back against the skylight, his eyes wide hearing the hissing of cracks forming under him. He looked down below him, seeing the guards waiting for them before a sudden chill gripped his spine.
It was not just guards in there looking up at them with anticipation.
The crimson visage of a demon met his gaze. Unnatural tension pressed on his shoulders, growing heavier in intensity as the gravity of their situation became as bright as the glass.
"Seraph! It's a trap!"
Seraph jumped back to the skylight, dodging another bullet at her feet. She turned towards ArchAngel, seeing the fear in his eyes, "Then we need to get out of-"
Another shot rang out from that building and punched through the glass between them.
Envy had them right where she wanted them.
The glass below their feet shattered, slicing through cloth to tear at their skin. Seraph flinched at the pain before pulling out her katana from her scabbard. She took hold of ArchAngel's arm as they fell, "Brace yourself!"
ArchAngel felt his heart being squeezed in panic, his breath coming out in shudders as he pulled out his swords. He closed his eyes, waiting for the guards to pull their triggers and shoot them before they could even collide with the rails.
No single bullet rang out.
No one pulled their trigger.
Why weren't they shooting at them?
He released a short hiss as they landed onto one of the raised platforms, his hands gripping his swords tightly as he felt the eyes of the Dante Family henchman on them. A few of the goons around them released short, low guffaws. Others polished their weapons; pistols, assault rifles, and even crowbars for those brave enough to get close.
This alone was not unfamiliar to the angels. However, the enclosed space of the warehouse, the sniper outside, and the large, imposing man blocking the main exit doors, donning the unforgettable orange and black boar mask of Gluttony, made their odds look dangerously grim.
That wasn't the worst of it.
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