Morning sunlight spilled through Novaria's streets like liquid gold, catching the dew on freshly hung festival decorations. The Dealer residence stood warm and inviting behind Angelo as he stepped onto the front path, a carefully packed lunch held in his grip – the weight of maternal care made tangible.

"Don't be a stranger!" Miriam called from the doorway, her silhouette framed by the morning light. The scent of coffee and breakfast still lingered in the air around her. "And remember, there's always a bed here for you." The offer carried the weight of hope barely contained.

Angelo turned back, his expression softer than usual. "Thank you for everything," he said, genuine warmth coloring his voice. "It really was wonderful." His aura ignited with practiced ease, the evolution process sending ripples through the morning air like heat waves off summer pavement. Orange energy coalesced around him in patterns that resembled living flame, each tendril casting dancing shadows across the dewy grass.

"Time to inform the chief about our little vacation," Angelo thought as he soared between buildings, festival preparations visible in every direction below.

"Finally got the guts to face Harry, eh Angie?" Red's mental voice carried its familiar mischievous edge, his usual personality seemingly restored by a good night's rest.

"Ah, there's the Red we know and... well," Angelo let the thought trail off meaningfully.

"Real comedian you are," Red shot back with theatrical dryness.

The precinct loomed ahead, its stone facade catching the morning light at angles that made it look more imposing than usual. Chief Ramirez's familiar figure approached the entrance, steam rising from his ever-present coffee cup like signals in the crisp autumn air. Angelo adjusted his trajectory, touching down with practiced grace beside his superior.

"Good morning, sir," Angelo offered, falling into step with the casual formality that marked their professional relationship.

Ramirez studied him over the rim of his coffee cup. "You're early today, son." His experienced eyes noted something different in his officer's bearing. "And looking considerably less brooding than usual."

"Am I?" Angelo's response carried genuine surprise as they entered the building together. "I see Joe hasn't attracted his usual crowd of admirers yet."

"I believe you've misunderstood his role here," Ramirez corrected, coffee steam curling around his words. "The Triple A arrangement means he's not actually an officer – more like a contracted specialist. We've brought in several Advanced Aurons specifically for the festival."

Both men's expressions darkened at the mention of the celebration, like clouds passing before the sun. "Something troubling you, son?" Ramirez inquired, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.

"Just... not particularly enthusiastic about the festival," Angelo admitted, his words carrying the weight of memory.

"Makes two of us," Ramirez sighed, age showing in the lines around his eyes. "Sometimes I wonder if the economic boost is worth the security nightmare."

Their rare shared moment of understanding carried them to the chief's office door. Ramirez paused, finally registering Angelo's continued presence. "Did you need something?"

"Yes, sir," Angelo shifted his weight slightly. "I need to request a few days' leave. Personal matter."

Ramirez's brow furrowed as he settled behind his desk. "That might be complicated, given your recent absence..." Angelo's heart sank, but the chief continued, "However, with our evolved reinforcements in place, we should manage. One less Evolved Auron won't compromise festival security."

"This means missing the festival entirely," Blue's analytical observation cut through their shared consciousness.

"That's a bonus, not a drawback!" Angelo's internal response carried genuine relief. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate it."

"One more thing," Ramirez's voice halted Angelo's retreat. "Night shift today – and I mean actual station duty. No heroics. If anything comes up, we'll deploy one of the Advanced Aurons."

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"Understood," Angelo managed, though the words tasted like defeat. Through the office windows, festival banners fluttered in the morning breeze, their cheerful colors seeming to mock his temporary confinement to desk duty.

The precinct buzzed with morning activity around them, officers moving with the practiced efficiency of a well-oiled machine. But something in the air felt charged, as if the upcoming festival cast an invisible tension over everything – a sentiment that both chief and evolved officer seemed to share.

Night settled over the precinct like a heavy blanket, streetlights casting long shadows through half-empty offices. The skeleton crew's quiet murmurs echoed through corridors that felt too large without their usual daytime bustle. Angelo sat at his desk, the computer's harsh glow highlighting his features as he tried to focus on paperwork rather than the whispered conversations around him.

Blue's materialized form moved with mechanical precision, organizing files with scholarly dedication. Their shared hearing caught fragments of officer chatter:

> "Must be nice," one whispered, casting envious glances at Blue's efficient paper sorting. "Having a copy of yourself to handle the grunt work."

Angelo's jaw tightened, but he kept his eyes fixed on his screen, refusing to acknowledge the commentary. Meanwhile, Red's crimson essence drifted through the station's darkened halls like blood in water, seeking entertainment in the hollow building.

"This is what I've been reduced to," Red's mental voice dripped with theatrical suffering as he explored. "Me, a being of pure chaos, reduced to floating through empty—" His internal monologue cut off abruptly as he noticed something odd – the archive room's door stood ajar, spilling a thin line of light across the darkened floor like a crack in reality.

Red's essence slipped through the opening, and what he found would have made his physical form grin with predatory delight. A figure dressed entirely in black moved with practiced efficiency through the filing system, their movements suggesting both purpose and familiarity.

Angelo and Blue launched from their chairs in perfect synchronization, their sudden movement drawing startled looks from the few remaining officers. "Red, hold position," Angelo commanded as they sprinted toward the archives. "We need to assess—"

"Shouldn't we alert the others?" Blue's analytical mind raced ahead even as they ran.

"They're not Auron division, we can't risk—" Angelo's thought cut off as his feet caught something solid. The trip wire sang as it snapped taut, sending him sprawling across the polished floor.

Red's laughter exploded through their shared consciousness just as their target burst into motion, silver aura igniting like starlight as he fled.

"Red, WHAT ARE YOU DOING? After him!" Angelo's mental roar carried fury as he scrambled up, his evolved aura exploding outward with enough force to rattle nearby windows.

Their pursuit carried them across rooftops and through alleyways, festival decorations blurring past as three evolved auras – orange, azure, and crimson - hunted their silver prey. Festival decorations blurred past as they bounded between buildings, forged energy tendrils leaving trails of light in their wake. Angelo's evolved capabilities gave him the edge in urban traversal, and soon they had their quarry cornered in an alley. Their energy constructs rose like predatory serpents, Red's tendrils slashing through the air with particular menace.

Their quarry's face remained hidden behind a tactical bandana, only his eyes visible as he assessed his situation. "Perhaps we could discuss this civilly?" he ventured, his tone carrying unusual composure for someone surrounded by three evolved Aurons.

The suggestion made Angelo hesitate – exactly as planned. In the space between heartbeats, the silver Auron unleashed a devastating combination. Three different attacks manifested simultaneously: silver flames roared toward Angelo, lightning crackled at Blue, and pure energy screamed toward Red. As they defended and dodged, their target bolted.

"Darkness Auron..." Angelo's recognition carried grim understanding. "Energetic Fissure!" The ground beneath them came alive as forged energy tendrils erupted in orange geysers, blocking their target's escape. Red and Blue struck in perfect coordination, and moments later, Red's energy constructs had their prey thoroughly restrained, one tendril coiled around his throat like a crimson serpent.

His silver eyes met Red's crimson, hungry and bloodthirsty eyes.

"If staring death in the face doesn't change a man... nothing will," Angelo's signature ultimatum carried the weight of countless encounters. "Surrender and find redemption, or resist and face judgment."

Their captive's groan carried surprising resignation. "Of course it would be the Angel of Death. Just my luck." Something in his tone set him apart from common criminals, catching Angelo's attention.

"I know how this looks, but I'm not what you think. We should talk."

"Talk is for the weak!" Red snarled, his tendrils tightening with his growing bloodlust until their captive wheezed.

"Red, enough!" Angelo's command cut through the night. "Who are you? What were you searching for?"

"Interesting that you don't ask how I knew where to look," their prisoner's words made Blue's analytical mind race with implications. "Those archives aren't exactly public knowledge."

"Answer the question." Angelo's voice promised consequences for evasion.

"Very well," the silver Auron's aura died like a snuffed candle. "But first, have your friend release me. See? No resistance."

After a silent exchange of glances and nods between Angelo and Blue, the command came: "Red, let him go."

"You're killing my fun here," Red growled, but his tendrils unwound with reluctant grace.

The man reached up and pulled away his mask, revealing features that seemed to catch the festival lights from nearby streets. Young, handsome, with silver-white spiky hair – he could have been Angelo's age.

"I'm Solomon Thron – My friends call me Sol. And I'm the son of David Thron."