The first rays of dawn were just beginning to paint the Novarian skyline when a cacophony of sound shattered the tranquil morning air. Angelo bolted upright in his bed, his heart racing, as the blaring noise of the television filled his small apartment.

"What the—" Angelo sputtered, his eyes wild and unfocused. As his senses slowly returned, he caught sight of Red, who had materialized fully near the TV. His grayer form mirrored Angelo's appearance, and a mischievous grin was plastered across his face.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!" Red cackled, clearly reveling in Angelo's discomfort.

Angelo's eyes flashed orange, his aura flickering to life in response to his anger. "Red, you insufferable—"

"Both of you, be quiet," Blue's calm voice cut through the chaos. He emerged from Angelo in his smoke form, swirling near the TV. "Listen."

On the screen, a news anchor sat behind a sleek desk, her expression grave as she addressed the camera. "...and in today's top story, we return to the ongoing controversy surrounding the vigilante known as the 'Angel of Death'."

Angelo's anger dissipated, replaced by a sharp focus as he listened intently.

"The moniker first appeared six months ago," the anchor continued, "when reports emerged of a police officer offering criminals an ultimatum: surrender or face death. Since then, public opinion has been sharply divided. Some hail the Angel of Death as a necessary force in our city's fight against crime, while others condemn these actions as extrajudicial killings."

Images flashed across the screen: crowds holding signs both in support and condemnation of the Angel of Death, statistics showing a drop in crime rates alongside a rise in fatalities during arrests.

"Last night, the Angel of Death struck again," the anchor's voice grew somber. "Vincent Morrow, a 32-year-old, a registered water Auron, was killed during an attempted robbery of a jewelry store. We go now to our field reporter, who's speaking with Mr. Morrow's girlfriend."

The scene shifted to a distraught young woman, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. "Vincent wasn't a bad person," she insisted, her voice trembling. "He was rough around the edges, sure, but he had a good heart. He... he wanted to propose to me, but he couldn't afford a ring. It broke his heart, made him feel like less of a man."

The reporter's voice came from off-screen. "If that's the case, why did he resort to crime?"

"He was desperate!" the girlfriend cried. "But he didn't hurt anyone during the robbery. He could have changed, could have made amends. But now... now that chance is gone forever." She broke down, sobs wracking her body as the camera panned away.

As the news segment continued, Blue transformed into his physical form, a grayer version of Angelo. His expression was unreadable as he turned to Angelo. "This is one of those times your convictions will be tested, Angelo. How do you—"

To Blue's surprise, Angelo's face remained impassive. His voice was steady as he cut Blue off. "So what?"

Blue blinked, taken aback. "I... beg your pardon?"

Angelo stood, stretching as he made his way to the kitchenette. "Just because his girlfriend thought he could change doesn't make it true," he said, his tone matter-of-fact as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "Vincent made his choice when he decided to rob that store. He chose to attack me rather than surrender.In my humble opinion, his actions speak louder than his girlfriend's words."

Red's grin widened, a wicked glint in his eye. "That's our Angelo! Cold as ice when it comes to justice."

Blue remained silent, his eyes studying Angelo carefully. The room fell quiet, save for the continued murmur of the TV and the soft clink of Angelo's coffee cup against the counter. The rising sun cast long shadows across the apartment, a new day dawning in Novaria – a day that, for Vincent Morrow, would never come.

As the morning wore on, Angelo's phone buzzed insistently. A quick glance at the screen revealed a message from the station: Chief Ramirez wanted to see him immediately.

"Looks like the chief caught wind of your late-night adventure," Red smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Blue materialized, his expression concerned. "This doesn't bode well, Angelo. The chief explicitly told you to stay at the station."

Angelo's jaw tightened as he remembered Ramirez's orders. Without a word, he donned his uniform and headed out, leaving Red and Blue to exchange glances before dissipating into smoke.

The police station bustled with its usual morning activity, but Angelo could feel the weight of eyes upon him as he made his way to the chief's office. Hushed whispers followed in his wake, a mix of awe and apprehension coloring the air.

Chief Ramirez's office door loomed before him, the frosted glass offering no hint of what awaited inside. Angelo took a deep breath, steeling himself before knocking.

"Enter," came the gruff response.

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As Angelo stepped inside, he was met with the sight of Chief Ramirez, his face a thundercloud of barely contained fury. The chief's desk was littered with newspapers, all bearing headlines about the Angel of Death's latest exploit.

"Sit down, Angelo," Ramirez growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Angelo complied, his face a mask of neutrality.

"What part of 'stay here at the station' did you not understand?" Ramirez began, his voice rising with each word. "I gave you a direct order, and you chose to disregard it completely!"

"Sir, I—" Angelo started, but Ramirez cut him off with a sharp gesture.

"I don't want to hear your excuses!" the chief roared. "Do you have any idea what kind of mess you've created? The media is having a field day! We've got protesters outside the station right now!"

Angelo remained silent, his eyes fixed on a point just over Ramirez's shoulder.

"And let's not forget the fact that you killed a man last night," Ramirez continued, his voice dripping with disdain. "A man who, by all accounts, might have been redeemable. But you didn't give him that chance, did you?"

Inside Angelo's mind, Red's voice seethed with indignation. "Redeemable? What a load of crap! You did the right thing, Angelo. Don't let this old fool tell you otherwise!"

Blue's calmer tones followed. "Perhaps it's wise to remain silent for now, Angelo. The chief seems beyond reason at the moment."

Outwardly, Angelo remained impassive, but his fingers tightened imperceptibly on the arms of his chair.

Ramirez leaned back in his seat, fixing Angelo with a hard stare. "I've half a mind to kick you off the force entirely," he said, his voice suddenly quiet. "But against my better judgment, I'm not going to do that.

Instead, you're suspended for a week. No pay, no duties. Use this time to think long and hard about your actions and their consequences."

Angelo's eyes widened slightly, the only outward sign of his surprise. "Yes, sir," he managed, his voice tight.

"Now get out of my sight," Ramirez dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "And Angelo? If you pull something like this again, suspension will be the least of your worries."

As Angelo left the office, the weight of his suspension settled heavily on his shoulders. The bustling station suddenly felt oppressive, the sidelong glances of his colleagues a mixture of curiosity and judgment.

Once outside, Angelo took a deep breath of the morning air, his mind racing. A week of suspension stretched before him, a void of time he hadn't anticipated. The sun hung high in the sky, its harsh midday light beating down on the bustling streets of Novaria. Angelo wandered aimlessly, his feet carrying him through the city he'd sworn to protect. Hours seemed to slip by unnoticed as he grappled with the weight of his suspension and the path that had led him here.

Meanwhile, back at the station, the day wore on, bringing with it new challenges and unforeseen complications.

In Chief Ramirez's office, the atmosphere was tense. Heavy curtains were drawn across the windows, blocking out the sunlight and lending the room a somber atmosphere. A desk lamp cast a warm glow, creating long shadows that seemed out of place in the middle of the day.

Chief Ramirez sat behind his imposing oak desk, his weathered face creased with worry lines that seemed to deepen by the minute. The clock on the wall ticked relentlessly, each second punctuating the tense atmosphere. Despite the bustling activity outside, an eerie silence hung over the room.

A sharp knock on the door cut through the stillness, causing the chief to look up from the pile of reports before him.

"Come in," Chief Ramirez growled, his voice rough with exhaustion.

Officer Vivian stepped into the room, her normally composed demeanor visibly shaken. "Sir, I'm afraid I have some deeply troubling news to report," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The chief's eyes narrowed, his body tensing. "Troubling news? Out with it, Vivian. What's happened?"

Vivian took a deep breath, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. "It's Officer Mike, sir. He... he's been killed in action."

Chief Ramirez froze, the color draining from his face. "Mike? But that's... I just spoke with him yesterday before his night patrol. How in the world...?" He trailed off, visibly struggling to process the information.

After a moment of stunned silence, he continued, his voice hoarse, "Give me the details, Vivian. How did this happen? Where was he found?"

"Sir, his body was discovered in an alley," Vivian replied, her voice cracking slightly. "I'm sorry to say, Chief, but... he was found inside a garbage container."

The chief's face contorted with fury, his fist slamming down on the desk. "Those bastards! To treat one of our own with such disrespect!" He paused, taking a deep breath to regain his composure. "What was the condition of Mike's body? Any clues about the perpetrator?"

Vivian swallowed hard before answering. "The coroner's initial report indicates multiple slash wounds, sir. But there's something else - clear signs of injuries from high-voltage electrical discharge."

Chief Ramirez's eyebrow arched, a flash of curiosity momentarily displacing his anger. "High voltage, you say? That's peculiar, considering Mike himself was a Lightning Auron. What are the odds we're looking at another Lightning user?"

"It's certainly possible, sir," Vivian replied thoughtfully. "Lightning is one of the more common aura types in general. It's not outside the realm of possibility that we're dealing with another Lightning Auron."

The chief nodded, his mind racing. "Indeed. Now, tell me, Vivian - has word of this gotten out to the press yet?"

"No, sir," Vivian shook her head. "We've managed to keep it under wraps so far. No statement has been released."

"Good," the chief nodded, his eyes narrowing. "We need to keep it that way, at least for now. With the New Light Festival approaching, we can't afford to cause widespread panic. The people of Novaria need to feel safe, especially during this time."

He stood up, pacing behind his desk. His reflection in the window appeared as a dark outline against the bright midday glare, the bustling city visible beyond the partially drawn blinds. "We'll need to handle this with utmost care, Vivian. I want you to assemble a task force - our best people, but keep it discreet. Make sure they understand the sensitive nature of this investigation."

Vivian nodded, her posture straightening as she received her orders. "Understood, sir. What about Officer Mike's family? Should we inform them of the situation?"

The chief's face softened for a moment, a flicker of genuine sorrow crossing his features. "Yes, but not just yet. Give me an hour to prepare a proper statement. They deserve to hear this from me personally."

As Vivian turned to leave, the chief called out once more. "And Vivian? Keep a close eye on Angelo. With his suspension in effect, he might be tempted to involve himself where he shouldn't. The last thing we need right now is the 'Angel of Death' turning this tragedy into his personal vendetta."

Vivian nodded grimly and left the office, closing the door softly behind her. Chief Ramirez slumped back into his chair, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him. As he stared at the case files scattered across his desk, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something much bigger and far more dangerous.