Archive of Our Own

“I didn’t expect you to come this close to me.”

Sophia meets her new partner in the midst of a raid. There’s blood splatters on her wings, and if they’re going to take the car back to headquarters, it’s best if they clean that off now. Blood is a pain to get out of leather.

“Your wings are stained,” Sophia states. The handkerchief stays between her fingers, arm hanging in the air. “Clean them off. I don’t want blood on my car.”

Technically, it’s the company’s car. But the special division has been crawling with fiends these days, and suddenly everyone has some special mode of transportation, so nobody really even drives except her.

“How do you know I’m on your side?” The devil reaches out, picking the handkerchief out of Sophia’s fingers. “They got my picture in my files?”

They didn’t. “You don’t see someone with wings everyday.” Sophia pauses, swiftly slicing her kampilan through a zombie’s neck. “And you’re dressed in our uniform. I’ll appreciate your efforts on that, at least, even if you showed up—” Another zombie down. “—late to your first mission.”

The devil does nothing to help with the hoard surrounding them. Granted, Lara and Megan are making quick work, but they’d be finished a lot sooner with an extra pair of hands. She does nothing to protect herself from the gunshots coming in her direction.

Sophia grabs the lapels of her jacket, thrusting her forward. “Did you come here to be another casualty, Bannerman?”

The devil moves sluggishly, easily dodging the hoard around them. Most of them are bleeding out, so it’s not a hard feat, but Sophia is still irked at her indifference.

“So you do know my name,” she drawls. “Can you call me Manon? Bannerman sounds so formal. I’m already hating the suit.” She sags her shoulders, jacket slipping off.

Sophia tugs it back up. Granted, Sophia wasn’t exactly thrilled when she found out she’d had to fight in a fully tailored suit either, but she wasn’t about to tell her that. “The suit is professional, Bannerman.”

“You keep touching me.” Bannerman cocks her head. “Did you not read my files? Missed the part where you literally lose time off your lifespan if you touch me?”

Sophia lunges forward, slicing through the zombie behind her partner. “It doesn’t count if it’s through cloth.” Manon hums, confirming it despite Sophia phrasing it as a statement. She glances down, acknowledging the body that drops next to her but doesn’t move. “Or maybe you have a death wish?”

Her eye twitches. Sophia isn’t one to challenge her superiors, but Missy has been making extremely questionable decisions as of late.

“Lars, look at the blood all over me!” Megan cackles in the background. Lara joins in, and they dissolve into a chorus of giggles that is oddly harmonized. “This is craaaaazy!”

Yeah, Sophia thinks. Real questionable.

Her eyes zone in on the devil’s face. There’s a speck of blood on her cheek. The same blood stains Sophia’s dress shirt, but she knows she’ll need extra elbow grease to get that out.

She steps forward, pulling the sleeve of her jacket over the edge of her palm. Harshly, she wipes the speck clean off. No contact.

“Wow,” the devil drones. “So a death wish, huh?”

“Go check on the bodies, Bannerman,” Sophia orders. “Separate the human ones. They’ll have guns nearby. And make sure all the zombies are dead.”

“That’s a lot of things to keep track of. I don’t know if I can remember all that.” She’s got to be an enemy going undercover. Twenty minutes in this basement and all this devil has done is get on her nerves.

“Just make sure we didn’t miss any devils.”

“Including me?” The devil asks, eyes tracing Sophia’s blade, now sheathed. “Gonna finish the job, Soph?”

“Don’t call me that.” Sophia sneers. “We’re coworkers. Keep it professional.”

The devil rushes forward, and it’s reminiscent of the movement Sophia had done only moments prior. Before she can react, a wing wraps around her back. She hears the round of gunshots but doesn’t feel them.

“Got it!” Megan pumps a fist into the air, blood pooling at her feet. “That’s one more down from me, Lara.”

Before Sophia can speak, the devil is already retreating back. Her wing returns to its original position, bracketing her body with the other. They’re huge, and they almost look too heavy for someone of Bannerman’s stature. Sophia would feel bad if she wasn’t a devil.

“I don’t take orders,” she drones, toeing at a body on the ground. “I’m a devil. I make contracts.”

Sophia assesses her choices. Lara and Megan are formidable allies, and though Sophia would rather not work with fiends, she’ll have to admit that missions are significantly easier with their strength.

She watches them tussle, Lara having Megan in a headlock. She doesn’t think they’re clean-up crew material, though.

“Okay,” Sophia relents. The girl in front of her has shown no signs of selfishness or greed. It’s uncharacteristic of a devil, but perhaps that’s why she’s a special case. “What do you want in return?”

Her eyes glance around the room. It looks like she's thinking, but something tells Sophia that she already knows what she wants. There's mischief in her eyes when they land back on Sophia.

“Call me Manon, from now on.”

Her halo glints, almost like it’s winking at her. Sophia scowls.

“Okay, Manon. Go clean up the bodies.”

“You want me to partner with what?”

“She’s an angel devil. Special case. You can read all about it—” Two taps onto the folder on the desk. “—in here.”

Sophia stares at the folder. It’s quite thick, and she doesn’t know if that’s a good thing. For all she knows, it could be a list of all the crimes this devil has committed in its lifespan, which is much longer than a human one.

“I’m already looking after two devils,” Sophia tries, weakly. She has a feeling the higher-ups have already taken that into consideration.

“There’s going to be some reconstruction in the division. Megan and Lara will be trained under someone else.”

“Someone else?” Sophia perks up at that. Who could possibly handle them the way she can?

“A veteran expert. It’s none of your concern anymore.”

Sophia likes Missy, she does. She’s capable at her job, and she has years of experience that Sophia can’t say she has. Sure, Missy sticks to a desk job for the most part, and a bitter part of Sophia would argue that makes her experience more meaningful on the field but. Respect your elders, or something.

“I’ve been looking after those two for the past year,” Sophia gently reminds her. “I think that gives me some right of concern.”

“Ms. Laforteza.” Missy’s voice is stern, leaving no room for protest. Sophia clenches her jaw. “Your only concern now is of the Angel Devil. She’s an extremely useful asset. Or has your mission towards the Gun Fiend changed?”

Once upon a time, Sophia had dreamed of taking down the Gun Devil. When she found out just how scattered its pieces are across the world, she knocked herself down into accepting that maybe her role in the world is a lot smaller than she had hoped for.

But there were whispers growing louder these days. Talks of a devil inheriting the pieces of the Gun Devil, enough to become a formidable entity. Corporate has been calling it the Gun Fiend. Sophia only sees a killer.

Sophia grits her teeth. Missy is also extremely cunning, and she supposes that’s how she maintained such a high position for so long.

“It hasn’t.” She picks up the folder, tucking it under her arm. Missy smiles, all teeth and no kindness.

“It seems like we’ve come to an agreement, then.”

Sophia still has nightmares about it.

She’s been through her fair share of partners. There was Lexie, and then Ezrela, and then Marquise.

They say that your first partner will be the most memorable. But Marquise wasn’t even her first. She wasn’t her last too, having played babysitter for Lara and Megan before she was paired with Manon.

Still, when Sophia has nightmares about the lives she couldn’t save, the face that appears clearest is hers.

“You whine in your sleep.”

They’re supposed to be on patrol. There were reports of the Gun Fiend—sightings of a figure wandering around the mountain, the barrel of a gun protruding from its forehead. Sophia doubts that the Gun Fiend will just, like, stumble into their line of sight, but orders are orders. And Sophia is willing to stay perched on an infinite amount of mountains if it means she gets the privilege of taking the devil down herself.

“No, I don’t,” Sophia sits up, stretching her lower back. They really need to invest in better cars. Uncomfortable for stake-outs, too slow for getaways. They don’t even look cool.

God, she’s spent too much time with Lara and Megan. She’s begun rating things based on their coolness.

“Whatever you say,” Manon kicks her seat from where she sits at the back. Her wings are unfurled—well, as unfurled as they can get. She’s probably been uncomfortable too. “When’s that bomb chic getting here?”

“The point of a patrol is to look for her,” Sophia groans before the realization dawns on her. “Wait—” She whips her head around. “Have you just been waiting for her to show up? You’re supposed to be on the lookout! What if she was here and you didn’t see her?”

“I think I would notice if someone with a ballistic missile for a head walked past,” Manon deadpans.

“Manon.” Sophia is appalled. How does this girl not know anything about her own species? “She can disguise herself as a normal person.”

“Oh,” Manon says, but she doesn’t look surprised. “Well, okay then.”

Sophia thinks she might as well set off a bomb of her own, at this point. There’s probably enough gas in the tank for a big one.

“Let’s stop the shift system.” Sophia turns back in her seat. “I can stay awake.”

“If you say so,” Manon mumbles, yawning. Sophia doesn’t recall reading anything about devils needing any sleep. She wonders how many mannerisms of Manon’s were picked up from observing human behavior.

“—an attack at the Division 2 training building.” Sophia hunches forward, dialing the frequency knob on the radio transmitter. Division 2. Her old division. Yoonchae’s current division. “All nearby hunters are requested for backup.”

She doesn’t waste a second. Her hand shifts the gear into drive, slamming on the gas. The motion propels them backward, Manon’s wings bumping into the glass of the car windows.

“What’s happening?” Manon braces two hands on the front seats. “Soph?”

Sophia’s too distracted to scold her for the nickname. “They need reinforcements.” A sharp turn, the sound of a thud from the back. An image of Manon’s shoulder against the door, wing folding in on impact. “Sorry. Hang tight.”

Her voice is tense, each word laced with dread. The transmitter didn’t catch enough details to be sure, but something in her gut tells her it’s no ordinary demon.

It starts storming on the way there. She can see clouds forming into a spiral in the distance. It doesn’t take a genius to guess that’s where they’re headed.

Sophia shifts the gear, pressing harder. She runs through several red lights. Manon doesn’t say anything—Sophia doesn’t know if it’s out of pity or out of fear, too.

She doesn’t know which option would be worse.

“We’re here,” Sophia gasps out as the building comes into view. Nearly all the windows are broken, and she can see the shattered glass shimmering on the ground. She swerves to a stop, leaving the engine running and booking it to the entrance.

Sophia can hear Manon’s footsteps trailing behind her and finds that she’s surprised at how fast they are. A flood of appreciation flows into her chest.

It doesn’t last. Her chest freezes in fear as she takes in her surroundings.

The room is covered in blood. There are bodies strewn about, some with missing limbs, some completely torn apart. Sophia winces, and wills herself to focus on signs of movement instead of faces she can recognize.

“Sophia-unnie!”

She whips her head around. Yoonchae hobbles towards them, arm slung over a girl’s shoulder. Sophia steps forward, meeting her halfway as she scans her figure. Yoonchae doesn’t look too hurt, maybe an ankle sprain or dislocation at most.

“Yoonchae,” Sophia sighs in relief. “What happened?”

“A devil broke in,” the girl holding Yoonchae explains. Sophia recognizes her, and recalls that she’s a Japanese transfer. One of their younger trainees. “I don’t know who she is, but she—” The girl makes a wavy motion with her hands.

“She flooded the place,” Yoonchae adds. “Water manipulation, maybe. I think it might be the Typhoon Devil. I didn’t see her, but Ua did.”

Sophia’s eyebrows raise in surprise. The Typhoon Devil hasn’t made an appearance in years. It’s one of the lesser known devils, and one that she previously suspected has been locked up for contracts.

“You did your research?”

Yoonchae looks away sheepishly. She looks so young, covered in grime and blood. Sophia’s heart aches for her. “You told me that learning about your opponents is one of the most important keys to beating them.”

“Yeah,” Sophia nods. She can feel Manon’s eyes on her. She wonders briefly, if it would be worth introducing them. Her current partner and someone she’s grown to see as a younger sister.

Time isn’t in their favour, though, because the building starts to rumble around them.

“Okay.” Sophia snaps into action. She ducks under, taking Yoonchae’s free arm over her shoulder. She nods as she meets Ua’s eyes over Yoonchae’s head, and they move towards the exit. “You guys get out of here. Call headquarters. We’ll take care of it from here.”

As soon as Sophia’s satisfied with their distance, she books it up the stairs. If the Typhoon Devil hasn’t left the perimeters, then there’s a good chance that some of the Division 2 hunters are still up there.

She’s proven right when she sees a familiar figure among the masses.

“Dani!” She calls out, quickly unsheathing her blade. A whirlwind surrounds them; She can’t see the rest of the city even if she squints. “What’s the sitch’?”

“Sophia,” Daniela breaths out, relieved. “Typhoon Devil. She’s too high up for close combat, but any projectiles will just ricochet back at us. Or worse—” The point is emphasized as Dani ducks, dodging stray debris. “It might hit a civilian outside.”

“So, no guns.” Sophia strategizes, scanning through the potential pathways in her head. Her choice of weapon is the blade, anyway, and most of the hunters don't use guns, even though they're permitted to. She glances around, categorizing her allies. Her eyes lock onto Manon.

“She’s too far from us?” Sophia looks up at the swirling, infinite storm. “We’ll just have to come to her then.”

Manon could probably get her up there, but she’ll have to figure out how to stay up if there aren’t any platforms. She knows she’ll have to do a lot of grovelling to the devil too, but they don’t really have any other options.

The universe must be in her favour though, because another option presents itself as the door bangs open.

“Heeeeeey!” Megan bursts through. Sophia already knows Lara must be close behind. They take the buddy system surprisingly seriously. “You guys started without us? No fair.”

“Megan,” Sophia moves, reaching out and tugging at her arm to where she stood before. “You see that up there?” She points towards the center of the sky.

“No.” Megan squints, cocking her head. “I don’t see anything.”

Well. She’s not wrong. Sophia can only really see a vague silhouette, which she might be hallucinating. But it seems like the storm is limited to their building, which means that she can kind of point anywhere, and it’ll likely be close to the devil. Hopefully. Maybe.

“There’s a devil up there. We can’t get up that high but I think you can.”

Megan is kind of, like, a puppy. Sophia hasn’t seen any puppies that grow chainsaws out of their limbs and head, but Megan is eager to please in a way that only puppies are. She looks at the sky, squints at the could-be-devil. Go fetch.

“Okay,” Megan nods resolutely, fingers clutching onto the cord at her chest. There are basically sparkles shooting out of her eyes, and Sophia is momentarily surprised at the hope that blooms in her chest. “You trust me, Sophia?”

“I do,” Sophia replies. “We’ll try to help out, but it’ll work best if you bring them down here.”

“Teamwork!” Megan pumps a fist. “Yay! I trust you too, Sophia.” She puts a hand on Sophia’s shoulder. It feels like Megan is giving her the pep talk, even though she’s the one heading into the literal eye of the storm. Sophia can feel Daniela’s questioning gaze over her shoulder.

“I’ll do my best,” Megan says, stepping back and doing a salute. She tugs on the cord, and the sound of roaring fills the area. Before Sophia can wish her good luck, Megan’s already gone and swung up into the sky with her chains.

“Has the special division been treating you well?” Daniela speaks up, eyeing the sky warily. There are flashes of lightning, and Sophia can vaguely hear the quips Megan is making, so it seems to be going relatively well. Still, she braces her hands on her blade, steadies her stance in case.

“Yeah,” Sophia says, surprisingly honest. She doesn’t have to look back to know Manon is lingering nearby. “You should transfer. What happened to being my buddy?”

“I think that position’s taken by your partner,” Daniela teases, looking back at Manon. “Congrats, by the way.”

(The Public Safety’s official partner system is called the buddy system. Sophia was okay with it, until she was paired with a devil. She was one of the first humans to get paired with one, and her literal job description is to hunt devils, so sue her if she was a little cynical. A partner is much more accurate considering they’re meant to make contracts with devils anyways.

It seems that her reasoning has backfired on her, though.)

Before Sophia can deny anything, the storm begins to move. Megan must have knocked the devil out of it, because the walls began to expand, pulling them outwards.

“Everyone get inside!” Sophia yells out, shoving Dani towards the door. “Go!”

Sophia and Daniela were the closest to the edge of the roof. Everyone makes quick work, dashing towards the door that leads back to the stairwell. She can see Lara holding the doors opened, ushering them inside.

She counts heads, but she can’t seem to find—

“Sophia!” A force shoves her to the ground, a piece of debris nearly missing her head. Her fall is cushioned, and it takes her a moment to realize she landed on a wing.

Manon has an arm propped up next to her head—it’s an awkward position, one that she had to take to ensure that they’re not making any skin-to-skin contact.

“We have to go.” Manon’s eyes are frenzied. It’s the most emotion Sophia’s ever seen from her. It looks foreign, and she has the urge to reach out and comfort her, even though she knows she can’t.

Manon moves the arm that was bracketing her head, balancing on her remaining one to let Sophia get up first. Sophia rolls on her side, careful not to add more pressure to her wing.

Sophia gets up quickly, picking her blade off the ground. She can still see Lara holding the door open, but the winds are getting harsher around them. She can hear the sounds of the chainsaws in the near distance, so she knows Megan is likely on a nearby rooftop or street.

“Lara!” She yells out, hand cupped over her mouth. “Go help Megan! The storm will die out when the devil does!”

Lara opens her mouth to protest, but she’s interrupted when the doors are ripped clean off the hinges, carried away by the wind. She eyes the two of them warily, before nodding and heading down.

They slowly make their way to the exit, having to use more of their strength because of the pull around them. Sophia wills her legs to stay strong, but she worries for the devil behind her. It must be harder with the wings, the larger surface area making Manon more susceptible to the wind.

She’s so close to the exit, but a street sign flies into her. It knocks her off her feet, and she loses her breath momentarily. The force was enough to send her back flying, taking Manon with her.

They’re spun around in the wind—Sophia clutches onto Manon’s collar and hopes it doesn’t choke her. The storm is moving, which means Megan and the devil are too, and Sophia can only hope that it isn’t somewhere close to any civilians.

They land on an empty street. Sophia doesn’t know how far they’ve been flung from the Division 2 building, but the force of their landing is enough to keep her disoriented for a few moments.

She wills her eyes to focus, and in the distance she can see Megan and Lara double-teaming the devil. It’s taken a much larger form, one where she doesn’t have to squint to make out its shape.

“Manon,” she pushes herself up, glancing at the devil. “We need to help them.”

Manon groans, copying Sophia’s position. “I’m so tired.” She drops back to the ground. “We just got flung across half the city.”

Sophia is about to argue, but she realizes that she can’t see the Division 2 building anywhere. They did get flung a reasonable distance, then.

She considers giving Manon a moment to rest, having taken most of the fall for them. The Typhoon Devil seems to disagree, because the storm around them comes alive once again.

Clouds circle around where Megan and Lara fight, blocking them from Sophia’s vision. She curses, hand moving to her blade, ready to run in there blind, but the wind picks at her feet and lifts her above the ground again.

“Fuck,” Manon curses from behind her. Sophia manages to grab onto a nearby streetlight, but Manon isn’t so lucky.

She flies past her, and Sophia drops her blade in exchange to keep Manon instead. She reaches out blindly as her vision gets obstructed by dark curls and white wings. She manages to catch her by the sleeve of her elbow, feeling the muscles in her arms contract at the weight she forces it to hold onto.

“Sophia,” Manon gasps out. The storm grows angrier around them. “Let me go!”

“No!” Sophia yells, readjusting her grip on the streetlight. Debris knocks against it—shattered wood, glass, even rocks—but she forces herself to hold on.

“It’s fine, Soph.” Manon pleads. “I’ve been ready to die. You can let me go.”

The wind only picks up more. Sophia hopes that this is the Typhoon Devil’s last ditch attempt at survival, and Megan and Lara are close to getting the job done.

Her heart drops when she hears the sound of a tear.

Their suits are supposed to be reinforced. How is Manon’s suit tearing under pressure now?

“Manon,” Sophia’s eyes tennis between the sleeve and Manon’s face. Manon is only looking at her. “We just need to hang on for a bit longer. Please.”

“Soph,” Manon says, so tenderly that it feels like the rest of the world has gone silent. She can still feel the wind blowing at her, and her arms feel like they’re about to fall off, but all she can hear is Manon.

“It’s okay.”

The sleeve tears, and Manon slips from her grasp.

She watches Manon’s face, the picture perfect image of calm, always, but—

But there’s a flicker of fear in her eyes. The same look she had earlier, when she had one hand braced over Sophia, protecting her from the storm with her own body.

It’s enough for Sophia.

She grabs onto her hand, all skin, no cloth. Manon’s eyes widen, and the fear comes flooding in with no resistance.

“What are you doing?” She yells, her voice hoarse. “You’re holding onto my hand.”

Sophia feels the wind settle around them for a split-second, but she jumps at the chance. She readjusts her grip on the streetlight, using the crook of her elbow as a leverage point, with her feet planted on the ground. Sophia wills what little strength she has left and pulls Manon to her chest, wrapping her arm around her midsection.

“Are you crazy?” Manon yells in her ear. They’re face-to-face, and she wraps her wings around Sophia, cocooning her in warmth. “Are you trying to die?”

Sophia buries her face into Manon’s shoulder, closer to the wings. It silences the devil, and for a moment things feel peaceful.

“If you want to die,” Sophia breathes out. “Then do it somewhere far away from me.”

She tightens her arm around Manon. “I’m tired of watching people die right in front of my eyes.”

The storm around them subsides quickly. She can hear Megan and Lara celebrating on the next block over. Sophia and Manon don’t let go of each other.

“Okay.”

They grow closer, after the incident with the Typhoon Devil.

Manon becomes more complacent, easily following orders without Sophia having to convince her. She kind of misses the debate, and it feels like the angel is trying to make it up to her, which makes Sophia feel weird.

“How much time did you lose?”

She’s catching up with Daniela over lunch. The latter had recently been offered a promotion to be Vice-Captain of Division 2, and Sophia had invited her to lunch in celebration.

“Three months.” Daniela doesn’t know, but Sophia’s been living on borrowed time anyway. Three months from her four year lifespan isn’t that significant. A part of her still hopes that another devil can somehow give her more time, though she knows it’s unrealistic.

“Shit,” Daniela mutters. “That’s a lot.”

And it is, kinda, but it also isn’t. Sophia doesn’t care how much time she has left, as long as it’s enough for her to kill the Gun Fiend. She’s been hearing more and more rumors about it, so they must be close to hunting it down.

“Yeah,” she says anyway. “It’s fine. No use crying over spilt milk.”

Sophia’s made a new contract, anyway, and tells her just that.

“With what devil?” Daniela stops chewing. Her eyes are widened, and she looks younger with her cheeks puffed up. Sophia has the urge to coo at her.

“The Future Devil.” Sophia reaches out, pushing upwards on Dani’s chin to get her to start chewing again. The girl rolls her eyes, but nods at her to continue. “I get to see a couple seconds into the future, which is going to be pretty helpful in battle.”

“Okay, but—” Dani swallows. “What’s the catch?”

“It gets to live in my eye.” She taps her right eye. “I think it wants to see me die.”

“Ew,” Dani wrinkles her nose in disgust. “All devils do, though.”

Sophia hums noncommittally, and thinks about white wings and brown curls.

“Maybe not all.”

Working as a Devil Hunter comes with a lot of perks. Sophia gets to have a substantial amount of paid days off, if she compares it with people who work corporate. She still has to do paperwork, but she’s grown to like the routine. It gives her a sense of normalcy.

They have access to better healthcare, and if they’re usually promised extensive benefits, depending on the sacrifices they’ve made in devil-related contracts.

Still, it’s easy to get caught up in the grief and loss that comes with the job. Most, if not all of Sophia’s coworkers have developed a jaded view of the world—cynicism and pessimism taking over.

It’s why it’s easy for them to gloss over conversations like this, steering them back into safer territory like:

“Yoonchae’s been doing well in training,” Daniela informs, and takes a sip of Sophia’s drink. “I think they might have her make a contract soon.”

Sophia isn’t like her coworkers. She still mourns the partners she’s lost. Her heart aches for the trainees that have no idea what’s coming for them. She wants to train, and grow stronger, so that she can take all of the weight of the world and carry it herself.

“Yoonchae’s so young, though?” Sophia counts the years in her head. She knows Yoonchae’s been performing well. She’s an exceptionally fast learner, and she’s always willing to put in the effort. “Isn’t it too soon?”

“She’s smart, and a quick fighter.” Dani groans, rubbing at her temple. “We’re low on power after the attack on the training center. The higher-ups have been putting pressure on us.”

Sophia winces. She remembers when the Special Division was first formed. Resource allocation was so bad, Megan and Lara had to live in her one-bedroom apartment. Killing devils might be their speciality, but the department isn’t the best at management.

“Yikes.” Sophia shakes her head. “Good luck with that, girl. Been there, done that.”

Manon is waiting for her when she returns. She doesn’t say she was, but she was perched on the rooftop of the Public Safety building when Sophia had parked, and by the time she walked in the lobby, Manon was already at her desk.

“Hey,” Sophia greets, nodding at some coworkers she recognizes. “Need something?”

“No,” Manon shakes her head. She gestures around the room. “It’s pretty peaceful today. Everyone’s just doing paperwork.”

Sophia hums, glancing at her desk. She’s supposed to be one among the masses, having her own paperwork to submit as well. Still, something itches at her, and she knows it won’t leave her if she spends the rest of the day in a cubicle.

“Do you wanna do something?” Her eyes trace big, white wings. Her halo looks almost transparent under the office lights. “There’s gotta be some things that an angel hasn’t experienced in the human world,” she teases, grinning.

That’s a new thing too—the teasing. Manon had always kind of, like, jabbed at her, but Sophia mostly ignored her in favour of being professional. Without her knowledge, her mouth has grown looser, jokes slipping through at any chance.

“Depends,” Manon tilts her head, brown eyes blinking slowly. “You gonna show me something worth experiencing?”

Sophia grins, wide and dimpled. “Oh, I’m so taking that as a challenge.”

“Well?” Sophia nudges her elbow against Manon’s. “Do you like it?”

The epitome of human experience, according to Sophia, is an ube milkshake from a food truck near the park.

“It’s good.” Manon nods. She doesn’t give much else of a reaction, but Sophia notes that her cup is already half-empty, so Manon must like it.

They’re sitting on a bench, in a more secluded part of the park. There’s a fountain a couple feet away—Sophia digs through her pockets to find some change.

“Hey,” Sophia stands, successfully pulling out two coins. Just enough. “Come make a wish with me.”

“Humans come up with the most creative ways to save themselves,” Manon says, but stands up regardless. She trails behind Sophia, wings expanding like she’s stretching them.

“Save themselves?” Sophia prods. Her eyes sweep over the floor of the fountain. She wonders how many wishes actually came true. “Nobody goes to a fountain wishing that big of a miracle.”

Manon steps up next to her. Her wings brush against Sophia’s back. It’s not an unwelcome feeling.

“Maybe they should,” she hums, holding her palm up. Sophia understands the cue, and drops a coin into the open hand.

“Weren’t you just judging humans for wishing at all?” Sophia chuckles, shaking her head. You’re quite the contradiction.”

She wonders what she should wish for. Ever since Marquise, all her wishes have been for one thing.

“I mean,” Manon huffs, flipping the coin in the air. She catches it effortlessly. “I’m literally the angel devil.”

Sophia watches the coin glint in the air, sunlight hitting it as it spins. Her eyes move to Manon’s halo, and finds that no reflection shines as bright.

She looks at her own coin and decides that maybe new wishes are in order.

“Maybe you’re right,” Sophia breathes out. She closes her eyes, says the wish in her head, and tosses the coin in the air. It flies up too high, and she watches it spin before a second coin joins it on the way down.

She doesn’t watch the coins hit the water. Sophia turns, catches Manon’s already awaiting eyes. Manon finishes the thought for her.

“Sometimes, the only way to save yourself is to get creative.”

The next time, Sophia takes Manon to the beach.

They get sent to the edge of the city. It’s a small mission, exterminating a devil that had found its way into a small neighborhood. Sophia got the job done quickly, and they had the time, so they might as well have caught the sunset before heading back.

“Would you want to be reincarnated, if you had the choice?”

The waves crash against the shore. They’re sitting far enough to avoid getting wet, but Manon had kicked her shoes off anyway. Sophia had considered doing the same, but, like. Sand.

“If I had the choice?” Sophia parroted.

“Like,” Manon starts, pausing to let the waves clap. “If you got the chance to choose, to come back or to just fade out of existence.”

Sophia had never really considered that. Reincarnation just felt inevitable. Though she never really gave that much thought either. She’s been so devoted in her work as a hunter that it never came across to her that she could be anything else.

“I think we’ll have to come back, whether we like it or not.” She jokes. “I’m more concerned about what form I’d take.”

It’s silent for a moment, and Sophia almost thinks the conversation is over. She looks at the line where the sky meets the sea, and wonders if something could exist there, where two boundaries meet but never merge.

“Would you choose to be a human, if you could?” Sophia breaks the silence. She clears her throat. “In the next life?”

She’s read about the reincarnations of devils. It’s not a guaranteed outcome, with only a handful of known reincarnated demons. They come back in different forms, with different personalities—usually worse, more savage ones. Sophia wonders if it would be different for Manon, with her angel side balancing it out.

“I don’t know.” Manon answers. “I like my wings, though. I wonder if they’d let me keep them.”

“A human with wings,” Sophia wonders out loud. “What a sight.”

The sun has begun to set. It casts its glow over them—Sophia feels warm all over. She wonders if Manon can feel the warmth too.

“Yeah,” Manon hums. “What a sight.”

Sophia doesn’t know what to expect when she finally comes across the Gun Fiend.

For starters, she’d expected it to be on the battlefield. Not in the middle of Missy’s office. Not standing right behind her chair, obedient like a dog on a leash.

Not in Marquise’s body.

“What the fuck.”

Missy sighs, rubbing at her forehead. It’s so strangely casual, that Sophia starts to wonder if she’s hallucinating. If this is one of her fucked up nightmares and she’ll wake up at any moment, covered in sweat and maybe tears.

“Listen, Sophia.” Missy has never called her that before. Or maybe this isn’t Missy, anymore. “There have been some—” she hesitates, and it feels like she’s patronizing her. “—changes. In the division.”

“Changes,” she parrots, dumbly. Marquise looms from where she stands; her shoulders sag, posture made poor by the weight of the barrel on her head. It’s so unlike her that she’s almost unrecognizable.

Sophia feels sick to her stomach.

“I’m sure you’re aware of the current political affairs of the world.” Missy stands, moving to look out her window. Marquise doesn’t move an inch. Sophia doesn’t dare move either.

“There are talks of a third world war soon. Even rumours of political leaders seeking out the Gun Devil.”

“That’s not possible,” Sophia presses, shaking her head. “The Gun Devil was diluted, broken down and scattered. Fragments all over the world—”

The pieces fall into place. It must show on her face, or in the silence she leaves, because Marquise finally straightens up.

“You’re collecting the pieces.” Sophia takes a breath, shuddering. The tears prick at her eyes, but she’s too horrified to let them fall. “In her.”

“We didn’t plan that part,” Missy explains, diplomatically. Her voice is so detached, like they’re making small talk about the weather, and not, like, a war crime. Between the two standing in front of her, Sophia wonders which one is more human. “We’ve had thousands of dead bodies. You’ve seen them.”

“Marquise was just the best fit.”

“Don’t say her name.” Sophia grits out. Her hand jumps to the blade at her waist. “You don’t deserve to call her that.”

“Okay,” Missy puts her hands up. “I’m just following orders. I’m not the one making these decisions.”

“Why tell me?” Sophia forces her shoulders to relax. She needs to be strategic about this, and letting her emotions show is the first step to losing her footing.

“We’ve been collecting pieces for the past year, right under your nose.” Missy waves a hand around dismissively. “But we’ve hit a bit of a road block.”

“The original plan was for you,” she gestures at her, “to keep her in control. Under wraps.” Missy sighs, like Sophia had failed a simple task. And maybe she has, one that she never signed up for.

“But, it seems that the angel devil has grown fond of human life. Of you.”

Sophia doesn’t know what’s happening. It feels like she’s been transported; she woke up in a different body, in a life that isn’t hers.

“The division has done an impeccable job of keeping her on a leash. And we thought you’d only hold that leash tighter.”

“But, in an annoying turn of events—” Missy trails off, walking away from the window and perching herself on her desk. “You did the opposite.”

“What are you talking about?” Sophia’s confusion finally breaks Missy’s patience.

“God, you just had to be so obsessed with the Gun Fiend, did you?” Missy snaps, frustration clear in her tone. “Your little devil had to go hunt it down, like a pet offering you a gift.”

Sophia snaps back. “She’s not a pet. Don’t call her that.”

She’s not sure what she expected, having never talked back to a superior like that. Sophia isn’t one to let herself be walked over, but she had mostly gone along with her orders. She knew her place in the corporate hierarchy of the division.

Still, she doesn’t expect pity, to be the look that graces her.

“When was the last time you saw her? Your little angel devil?”

Sophia stills. They had parted ways last night, Manon mentioning that the division needed her for a late night meeting. It wasn’t often that Manon was called in instead of Sophia, but Manon is more than capable as a hunter, and Sophia had chalked it up to devil business.

As if on cue, the bookshelf—a door swings open, Manon stumbling through and onto her knees. Her face is battered and bruised, and specks of blood stain her wings.

Another hunter steps in from behind her. Sophia doesn’t recognize him, but she reckons it must be a higher-up. She’s sure that Missy isn’t more than another cog in the system.

“She was so close, too.”

Manon’s eyes are glossed over. Sophia didn’t notice, at first glance, but it’s painfully obvious now. She needs blood.

“What did you do to her?” Sophia steps forward, but halts herself when the hunter behind Manon does the same. His leg grazes against Manon’s wing, and she winces from the ground. The look he gives Sophia tastes like a threat.

“Nothing that fatal. She’s still an important asset, after all.” The man answers this time. His voice is deep, and gravelly, and it sounds calming, almost, but Sophia feels it ring in her ears. “But, she hasn’t been, well. Cooperating.”

“She had a whole other life before. Did you know that Sophia?” Missy says, demanding her attention again. Sophia’s eyes don’t move from where they lay on Manon. “Memories can be so fragile, if you know the right devil. If you make the right contract.”

“It would’ve been so easy, if she would’ve just let us start over.” Missy sighs. Sophia wills her eyes away, reminding herself to stay vigilant. This time, Missy’s eyes are on Manon. “But she wouldn’t. She latched onto her memories, this time.”

“Memories with you.”

Sophia feels her chest ache. She looks at Manon, and she wants to cry, and drop to her knees, and apologize. It’s not her fault, but it is.

“So what?” Sophia scoffs. She’ll play the role of apathy, if it means sparing Manon. “You want me to force her? Tell her to forget me? She barely follows orders when we’re on missions.”

“Oh please,” the man cuts in. “She kept saying your name. It doesn’t matter how she acted in missions with you. It’s obvious who you are to her.”

“I don’t know what you want from me.” Sophia is on the brink of pleading. She wants to go back—back to the beach, the park, anywhere. She thinks of street lights, a warm body against hers in the middle of a storm, and finds that she prefers that than this.

“We don’t want anything from you, really.” Missy stands, and it feels like a resolution. But Marquise straightens up, and the hunter retreats behind the bookcase, and it feels like an ending that isn’t in her favour.

Manon groans, and Sophia can only hope she’s gaining consciousness. She side-steps, blocking Manon with her body, blade unsheathed in her hands.

“Don’t make this difficult, Sophia.” Missy groans, like she’s burdened by a child. Sophia stands her ground, steadying her stance.

“I won’t let you hurt her.”

“Who said anything about her?”

In a flash, Marquise shoots forward. Sophia hadn’t noticed before, but her left arm is misfigured, replaced by an M4. She can feel her grief rise, knocking at her ribs to be let out.

Sophia is no foreigner to violence. But she has a blade, and they’re supposed to have gun laws, so. She’s not exactly equipped for this.

Still, she’s the last one to back down from a fight, especially with this much at stake. With Manon, at stake.

Before she can charge forward, a flash of white blinds her. For a brief, ridiculous moment, Sophia wonders if she’s dead, and berates herself for ever thinking she could outrun a bullet.

“I don’t take orders,” Manon groans. Sophia blinks, feeling the warmth of the wing surrounding her. “But you could’ve asked for help. That’s a fucking gun.”

“Oh geez,” Missy laments. “We just had to pair up the two most annoying hunters.”

Manon gets up, and her wing drops just enough for Sophia to see the rest of the room. Belatedly, she reaches back, but Manon squeezes her arm in reassurance. Marquise stands still, gun still raised at them.

“Fine,” Missy relents. She waves a hand—a cue—and Marquise starts stalking forward. “Have it your way then.”

They get chased down several alleys. Sophia’s mind is whirring, trying to catch up with the sequence of events. Missy’s office, broken windows, alleyways. Marquise—Not Marquise chasing them down.

The rest of the city goes on without them. It’s strange, Sophia had gotten used to the collateral damages that come with dealing with devils. But Marquise has always been someone so disciplined, which is why they worked so well together.

Had, Sophia reminds herself.

She doesn’t know where they’re going. The alleys are too small, Manon running behind her. Her wings act as a shield, effectively protecting them from the oncoming bullets.

“Sophia,” Manon calls out. “I can fight back. But I need more space.”

Sophia runs through the potential scenarios in her head. Taking this to the main road would be detrimental, but it could catch the attention of other hunters nearby. Though she isn’t sure how many of them would be on their side, and not hers.

“Where can we go?” Sophia pants, taking another turn. She hasn’t catalogued their paths, it’s only a matter of time before they reach a dead-end.

“The rooftops!” Manon pivots, tugging at Sophia’s coat. “I know a way up!”

Sophia wonders if this is what Manon gets up to when they’re apart. She moves swiftly, and they make their way to what looks like an abandoned building.

She isn’t sure if Marquise is still following them. She doesn’t dare look. Her mind still expects the familiar face of a friend.

When they burst through the doors, the world feels quiet.

Sophia positions herself, facing the door. She has her blade unsheathed, counting down the seconds until Marquise makes her appearance. Next to her, Manon has manifested a spear. It shines bright, almost like her halo. Sophia had never seen her use her lifespan weapons—she had only read about it in her files.

“Are you sure about this?” Sophia breathes out. “We’re cornered.”

“Sophia.” Manon is deflecting. Sophia has known her long enough to be able to tell. “If anything happens, I want you to run.”

“What?” Sophia loosens her grip, head turning to look at her. “I’m not doing that.”

“I promise I’ll take her down.” Manon nods resolutely. Her eyes are still on the closed door.

“That’s not what I’m worried about. Manon—”

The slam of the door cuts Sophia off, Marquise bursting through. Her moves are sluggish, arms swinging around haphazardly. She aims for Sophia first, but Manon forces her attention away, thrusting her spear forward and into Marquise’s arm.

Marquise doesn’t react, persistent in her onslaught, almost as if she doesn’t have a spear through her shoulder.

“Go for her head!” Manon yells out, maneuvering her spear to the ground. Marquise’s arm follows, bullets hitting the rooftop.

Sophia wills her legs to move, blade hitting Marquise’s neck. The contact is dull, her hands tightening and pushing harder.

“I can’t cut through!” Sophia grits out. She feels helpless, even with her future sight. All she can see is something she can’t stop.

She switches targets, driving her blade down into her shoulder instead. The blade cuts through slightly, but it’s enough for Sophia to decide it’s a better target.

But Marquise has always been bright, too. With two of her arms locked, she makes use of the weapon that’s brandished on her head.

“Sophia, duck!” Manon swings her arm, pushing Sophia away. She falls behind, her blade sliding across the rooftop.

But Manon isn’t strong enough with only one arm, and the spear shatters, Marquise knocking her away. Sophia scrambles to get up, moving towards her blade.

The bounty must be on Sophia’s head though, because Marquise doesn’t spare Manon a second glance and goes for her, instead.

“Watch out!” Manon calls out, grabbing Marquise’s coat and pulling her backwards. The thrust is strong enough to drag her to the ground, and it buys Sophia time to reequip herself.

“I can conjure up a spear.” Manon pants, siding up next to her. “But it’s going to take some time, and I need to be higher up for it to pierce through her.”

The image flashes through her head. Marquise, unmoving—dead, with a spear pierced through her. She looks at the figure getting up, gun reloading, and figures they’re already halfway there.

“Okay,” Sophia braces herself. “I’ll distract her. Do what you need to do.”

Manon squeezes her shoulder, and takes flight. Sophia doesn’t look up, can’t afford to take her eyes off the devil in front of her.

(When Sophia was a trainee, she received a negative report for the first time.

Does not work well in teams.

“You need to learn to trust people,” her supervisor had told her when she confronted him. “We work in pairs, sometimes in a squadron. You can’t fight a devil on your own.”

“I do trust my teammates,” Sophia argued back. “Why are you saying that I don’t?”

“It’s not trust, when you keep glancing elsewhere. I’m not letting you graduate until you understand that.”

Sophia had gone back to the dorms and cried, shaking the bed so hard that Marquise had to climb down from her bunk to comfort her. They had fallen asleep that way, curled around each other in the cramped space of Sophia’s bed.

Two months later, she graduates with Marquise by her side.)

Sophia keeps her eyes trained on the devil. If anything else makes its way to the rooftop, she knows that Manon will be there.

She charges forward, seeing the future in flashes and dodging the bullets. If she’s even a step off, she knows it’s over for her.

Marquise is relentless with her gun, firing at Sophia without any rest. A few bullets graze at her skin, eating away at her coat. Sophia doesn’t let herself feel it. As long as it isn’t any vital organs, she can still keep fighting.

They’re at the edge of the city, and she can only hope that no stray bullets have found their way to any civilians. Sophia finally comes face-to-face with the barrel, dodging Marquise’s arm and using their proximity to cut at her body.

“Marquise!” She yells out. She’s wasting energy this way, but she needs to let it out before it consumes her whole. “I’m sorry.” Another cut. “For everything.”

Marquise staggers back, and Sophia feels the urge to stop. Her heart finally catches up to her, the flashes of Marquise’s face fading away. She stares openly, at the devil that was once her friend.

“You’re not Marquise anymore.”

The Gun Fiend sways back and forth, almost like it’s off-balanced, but she never falls.

“I’m so sorry.” Sophia tightens her grip. She can see three lights in the distance, glinting and growing—coming closer. Blood spears. “I wish I could give you a better goodbye.”

The first spear pierces through her shoulder, pushing her to the ground. The second, through her leg. The last forces itself through the edge of her abdomen, anchoring her in place. The devil makes no effort to move.

Sophia steps forward, and drives her blade through her chest. The devil’s head drops forward, the edge of the barrel grazing Sophia’s forehead.

“Goodbye, Marquise.”

Sophia finds her on the beach. The blood spears had shattered, but Manon never returned. Sophia had to survey the area, but her whereabouts became obvious once she realized where exactly they were.

Manon is hunched over, and she looks small even with her wings fanned out. Sophia scrambles to kneel next to her, ignoring the way her body screams in pain.

“Where did you go? What’s happening?” She pulls a sleeve over her palm, using it to wipe the blood away from her wings. They don’t go.

Her eyes scan Manon’s face. It’s been long enough, but the cuts on her face remain, and the bruises aren’t fading—

Manon isn’t healing.

“Manon.” Sophia breathes out. “Please.”

“You said—” Manon starts, but she’s interrupted by a flare of coughs. She clears her throat, and Sophia feels her eyes burn from hearing how hoarse it is. “You told me to die somewhere far away from you.”

“This is the furthest I could get.” She gestures around them. The sound of the waves surround them, and it’s all too similar to the day they shared before. Manon notices the same time she does, and winces. “Sorry.”

“Things have changed.” Sophia shakes her head. She rolls her sleeves up, as if she’s able to do something, anything. “You’re not dying on me.”

“Why aren’t you healing? Do you need blood?” Sophia quickfires, ticking off checkmarks in her head. “Take mine.” She looks around, searching for something that can pierce her skin. She curses herself—she had left her blade in her panic to search for Manon.

Her eyes lock onto a small rock, and she reaches out to grab it. She’ll make do. But before she can, Manon knocks her back with her wing, effectively blocking her way.

“Manon.”

“It’s too late, Sophia. That last spear took everything out of me.” Manon coughs out. She attempts a smile, but it’s weak. “It’s okay.”

“Take my years.” She reaches out, but Manon is quicker and holds her arms behind her back.

“That’s not how it works.” Manon laughs dryly. Her eyes are so brown, so pleading. Sophia would give her anything she’d ask for. She knows Manon would never ask. “They don’t count towards my lifespan.”

“I know.” Sophia reaches out to touch her face, but doesn’t make contact. Not until Manon consents. “Take my years.”

Sophia watches recognition flood Manon’s eyes. It quickly turns into apprehension, but Sophia nods and it fades away just as quickly. Manon has never doubted Sophia’s decisions, always so resolute in her belief in her.

“Okay,” Manon whispers, leaning forward. They meet halfway, Sophia’s hands finally cupping the sides of her face. Even on the brink of death, Manon feels so warm in her hands.

Sophia has always been an overachiever.

She goes the extra mile, tugging Manon in and kissing her hard. Before they meet, she sees Manon’s eyes widen, and Sophia has half a mind to make fun of her for it, but she decides that there’s better ways to spend the last few minutes of their lives.

Manon pulls away, her hands finally reaching up to touch hers. Sophia never thought dying could feel like coming home. “Did you know?”

Sophia wants to lean back in, close the gap once more, but Manon’s fingers circle around her wrist. “I wished for this.” She squeezes. “Back at the fountain.”

“You wanted to kiss me?” Sophia’s jaw drops in surprise. She closes it and leans forward, only for a peck, but Manon’s smile widens all the same.

“No—” Sophia raises an eyebrow, and Manon is quick to correct herself. “I mean, I did, but I just wanted another chance to hold you again.”

“Wasn’t it me holding you, back then?” They must look ridiculous, holding each other this closely, on a sliver of sand that feels endless. Manon only pulls her closer, finally, finally.

“Then let me be the one to hold you, this time.”

Sophia finds that the end of her world is warm and quiet. It’s peace like no other.

“I miss Sophia,” Lara sighs, kicking at the stones on the ground. She plops down, sitting at the edge of the water fountain. “This is boring.”

“You’ll learn to appreciate boring days when you’ve worked long enough.” Dani shoves at her shoulder. Lara pouts, but Daniela ignores her. Damn, she thinks. Tough crowd. That always worked on Sophia. There's a blur of movement behind them, and Dani groans when she turns to look. “Megan, put Yoonchae down!”

Megan halts her spinning. Yoonchae has her legs wrapped around Megan's waist, arms around her shoulders. Sophia’s blade wobbles in the sheath wrapped around her back. It’s a little too big for her, but she’ll grow into it. “She’s having fun, right Yoonchae?”

Yoonchae does not look like she’s having fun. She forces a smile, but it looks queasy. “Uh huh!” The affirmation sends Megan into another spin, Yoonchae gripping onto her for dear life.

“Megan!” Daniela sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “If she pukes, I swear—”

Lara tunes them out, something having caught her attention. In the near distance, two birds sit on the branch of a tree—black and brown, both with white wings. They nuzzle up against each other, and it almost looks like they’re watching them. A strange feeling of familiarity washes over her.

Daniela settles down next to her, finally giving up on berating Megan. Motion sickness is kind of part of the job, anyway. Yoonchae can adapt.

“Have you seen those birds before?” Lara juts her chin at the tree. “They look familiar.”

Daniela hums, following her gaze. She sits up, digging through her pockets for a coin. Lara watches her, unabashedly judgmental. Humans are so weird. When she finds one, she turns, and drops it into the fountain behind them.

“Maybe they’re watching over us.”

Lara watches the coin sink. Boring days don't feel all too bad now.

“I hope they are.”