“That’s it!” Captain Emerson raved as he stormed into the coffeehouse. “I’m detaining him!”

“You don’t mean that.” Pal Burns said, waving his hands dismissively.

“You old codger!” the captain said. “He’s an actual criminal now—”

Suddenly, the old man raised a hand to silence the other.

“Captain,” he said softly. “Do you feel that?”

“Are you ignoring me—?!”

Pal looked upward, as if in thought. “An immense presence has entered the city...”

 

Frozen whispers were deafening as Sir Smith walked the streets of Apocrypha City.

“What is an Angel doing this far from Heaven?”

It was true. He saw them. He heard their concerns.

“What does he want with us?!”

He could hear their fears.

“Mommy, what’s that glowing circle over his head?”

He kept his eyes forward as he walked on.

“Don’t look at it honey! It’s a sin to look!”

He could hear their cries for help, their desperate pleas as he walked under their fearful gazes. Despite his stoic glare, his mind burned aflame.

All of this...

    ...this world...

                 ...I feel it dying...

 

Philos awoke to soreness covering his body.

“Brother!” Uri said in a relieved tone.

“What?” Philos said, seeing Joseph and Alphonso also by his bedside. “Where am I?”

“In the clinic.” Joseph said with a puff of his cigarette. “You got your ass kicked, man.”

Memories of what had happened suddenly filled Philos’ mind.

“Astrid!” he said as he jolted himself upright. “Vylet! Where are they?!”

The room was silent. Philos looked around the room.

“They were...” Uri said softly, “taken...away...”

Philos fell backward onto the bed. Searing pain filled his body, causing him to shriek in alarm.

“Lay down.” Alphonso said, sitting by the window and stretching his legs. “You got hurt bad, man. The nurse said it was the worst burn she’d ever seen and...”

“Why didn’t it heal?” Philos said as he looked at his charred arm.

“I don’t know, brother...” Uri’s voice was soft. “Usually we heal from burns, but this one...it just seems...different.”

Philos winced as he raised up his arm once more.

“It’s burned to a crisp, Philos.” Alphonso said. “It’s pitch-black!”

“I can’t move it at all.”

“The skin is probably dead.” Joseph spoke up. “Nurse said it burned it all the way to the bone.”

“And I don’t think Captain Emerson is too happy either...” Uri said, scratching his head. “He said—”

“M-mister V-Vesper?” The nurse opened the door, her breath quickening. The boys could see the sweat on her forehead as her hands shook violently upon the door handle. “Y-you h-have a g-guest.”

“Thank you.” The Angel’s deep voice said as he entered the room. “You may leave now, madame.”

Philos froze as the Angel stood before him. It was as if ice had filled his hand and feet.

“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost, boy,” the Angel said, smirking. “Do not worry, though. I am not the messenger you think me to be.” He turned to Uri. “And you are his brother, I presume.”

“I a-am...”

“Good.” The Angel bowed. “You see, dear Vesper brothers, I am Sir Smith, and I have come a long way to see you.”

“Listen,” Joseph spoke up, pulling a gun from his coat. “I don’t know what you’re trying to sell, but you better get to it, Smithy.”

The Angel glared.

“Well, Vespers. It seems you are in good company, if not brutish.”

“Why are you here?” Philos’ voice was hard and curt.

“I am here,” Sir Smith began, “to tell you a story lost to time. It is the story that will bring salvation to the world. It is the story of your bloodline.”

Uri spoke up. “I don’t understand?”

“Tell me,” Sir Smith said, pointing at Uri and Philos. “What are your names?”

“Uri.”

“I’m Philos.”

“Philos. Uri.” He began, “in your veins flows the blood of Vespira, the Blessed One. Within you two lies the Birthright of the Starblood.”

The room was silent, filled with nothing but confusion and awe.

“I will tell you the tale that will undo this world...