The Divided Guardian [Cursed Anti-Hero, Progression, Dark Fantasy]

"This court finds the defendant, Angelo Ashworth, NOT GUILTY."

Angelo's shoulders sagged with relief as the judge's words echoed through the packed courtroom. Behind him, scattered murmurs rippled through the gallery like wind through tall grass.

"Hahaha! Angelo, you magnificent bastard!" Red's voice exploded through their shared mind, practically bouncing with glee. "It worked exactly like you planned!"

Angelo exhaled slowly, his hands trembling slightly as he gripped the defendant's table. "Touch and go there for a minute."

"Don't go modest on us now," Red chuckled, his mental voice dripping with admiration. "You played them all. What do you think, blueberry?"

Blue's response came cool and measured. "I prefer to reserve commentary on such matters."

Standing, Angelo straightened his strange glowing jacket and started toward the lobby. The fluorescent lights caught the silver stripes that pulsed along the fabric like a slow heartbeat.

"This isn't over!" Maxwell's voice boomed across the courtroom, freezing Angelo mid-step.

Angelo kept walking, not bothering to turn around.

"You think you're clever?" Maxwell's voice grew sharper, more desperate. "We know about the other recordings! You let yourself get caught on camera deliberately, and I'm going to figure out exactly why!"

Angelo pushed through the courtroom doors, George scrambling to keep up while Amaya followed at a more measured pace.

In the lobby, George practically bounced on his toes. "Congratulations! You were absolutely right—the evidence proved everything!"

Amaya's eyes narrowed, something sharp flickering in her expression. "Yeah. Surprisingly so." She crossed her arms, studying Angelo like he was a puzzle missing pieces. "What that prosecutor said back there..."

"Oh, I can practically see the gears turning in her head," Red snickered. "Kid's got a good bullshit detector."

Angelo resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Thanks," he told George, then looked directly at Amaya. "Don't worry about the prosecutor. There's a reason I make sure I'm always recorded."

George's mouth fell open. "Wait—so it really was intentional?"

Angelo nodded, his expression growing serious. "I'm not with the police anymore, which makes me an easy target for anyone who wants me gone. But I'm not stopping my work—not when crime's spiking without me out there." His jaw tightened. "So I document everything. This way I got an alibi when people try pinning deaths on me."

"So the rumors are true then?" Amaya's voice dropped, taking on an almost ominous quality.

George shot his sister a nervous look, clearly uncomfortable with her interrogation.

"Depends which rumors you mean," Angelo replied carefully.

"The ones saying the Angel of Death is back on the streets." Amaya's gaze didn't waver. "This time working with the Grim Reaper."

Angelo's left eye twitched. "I'm back, yes. The Grim Reaper is long dead. Don't believe everything you hear."

The lobby doors burst open with a crash.

"Angelo!" Neiva rushed in, her red hair flying behind her. "Thank god you're okay!"

Sol strolled in behind her, silver hair catching the light. "Had us sweating bullets there, buddy."

Miriam entered last, her face etched with worry and disapproval. "I told you this vigilante business was a terrible idea..."

Angelo rubbed the back of his neck. "This is turning into quite the scene." He turned to George and Amaya, pulling out his phone. "I'll send you my contact info for payment discussion. Mind giving us some privacy?"

George blinked rapidly. "Oh! Right, of course!" He grabbed his sister's arm. "Come on, Amaya, let's give them space!"

The siblings hurried out, leaving the lobby significantly quieter.

Neiva immediately stepped forward, guilt written across her face. "Angelo, I'm so sorry! This whole mess is my fault!"

Angelo shook his head firmly. "Stop. This was inevitable."

Miriam crossed her arms, her maternal disapproval radiating like heat. "Whose brilliant idea was it to keep playing cop without a badge? Red?"

Crimson smoke poured from Angelo like spilled wine, quickly forming into Red's familiar figure. "What?! Hell no, mom!" He threw his hands up defensively. "This was all Angie's genius plan. I just helped out like the good brother I am!"

"You little traitor," Angelo muttered through gritted teeth.

Miriam's expression didn't soften.

Angelo ran a hand through his hair, avoiding her gaze. "Look, mom... crime's exploding since I left Novaira. I have to fix this. It's my responsibility." His voice grew quieter. "It's what your husband and Bill died for. I won't fail them again."

Something in his words finally cracked Miriam's stern expression, replacing it with understanding.

A sharp knock echoed through the lobby. The door opened to reveal Professor Albert, looking strangely ordinary in his civilian clothes instead of his usual lab coat.

"Albert?" Angelo straightened, surprised.

"Good morning, everyone." Albert stepped inside, his expression grim despite his gentle tone. "I watched the trial from the gallery. I must admit, I'm deeply concerned."

Red raised an eyebrow. "What's eating you, old man?"

"It's about whoever actually killed that criminal." Albert's words seemed to drop the temperature in the room. "The evidence suggests someone came to Angelo's aid. But is that the complete truth?"

Silence stretched between them. Miriam looked confused but chose not to speak.

Albert's eyes swept the group, noting the guilty expressions. "I assume everyone here is aware of the trio's recent breakthrough? Remote energy manipulation—completely unheard of in modern Auron studies. Most would consider it impossible." His gaze locked onto Angelo. "Makes for quite the perfect alibi, doesn't it?"

Angelo didn't flinch. "What exactly are you planning to do about it? Turn me in?"

Albert's eyebrows shot up, his mouth working soundlessly for a moment.

Angelo sighed, shaking his head. "Look, Albert, you've always been like a father to us. I respect that." His eyes began to glow orange, causing Albert to instinctively step backward. "But let's be crystal clear—there isn't a prison on this planet that could hold me. You know that better than anyone. I will continue the Angel of Death's work. Wanted or not."

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Everyone shifted uncomfortably, the weight of his words settling over them like a heavy blanket.

Albert's expression hardened. "And you, Blue? Do you support this path?"

Azure smoke emerged from Angelo, materializing into Blue's composed form. He offered a respectful bow. "Good morning, Professor. To answer your question directly—no, my views do not align with theirs. I do not condone these actions."

"Then why—"

"That being said," Blue continued, his tone remaining perfectly controlled, "I am not one to impose my worldview upon others or claim intellectual superiority. I hold my convictions, and they hold theirs."

Albert rubbed his forehead, looking every bit his age. "Listen, I didn't come here to pick a fight with you three. I'm just scared about where this road leads."

Angelo's shoulders dropped slightly, some of the tension leaving his face. "Sleeser gave me this exact speech months ago." He glanced at the others, then back to Albert. "Look, I hear what you're saying. I really do. But the work I'm doing out there? It's not about me, never has been. Every scumbag I take down means families get to sleep safe at night. Kids can walk to school without looking over their shoulders. That's worth whatever happens to me."

The silence that followed felt heavy. Sol crossed his arms, shooting worried looks at Miriam. Neiva stared at Angelo like he'd just announced he was planning to fight a dragon bare-handed. Blue went perfectly still, the way he always did when thinking hard about something. Albert just watched Angelo with sad, tired eyes. Red, on the other hand, practically beamed, his grin stretching wide enough to show every sharp tooth.

Angelo was already heading for the door, his weird jacket catching the light with each step. The silver lines running down it pulsed like a slow heartbeat. "Are we done here? Because I'd really like to get home and crash on something that doesn't feel like sleeping on concrete."

Albert opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. Whatever he wanted to say seemed to stick in his throat. Finally, he just nodded and stepped aside.

"Mom, you coming?" Angelo called back without turning around.

"Y-yes, let's head home," Miriam said quietly, fumbling with her purse strap.

"Damn, everyone's acting like someone died," Red's voice bounced around their shared headspace. "What is it with people and getting all worked up over nothing?"

Angelo's jaw tightened as they walked through the lobby. "It's not nothing. This is what happens when you deal with gray areas. Makes people squirmy."

"Doesn't seem to bother you much," Red shot back, sounding amused.

"Because I don't waste time on black-and-white thinking," Angelo replied internally, pushing open the building's glass doors. "Normal people see good guys and bad guys. I see problems that need fixing."

"Tonight's still on, right?" Neiva called after them, jogging a few steps to catch up.

Angelo paused at the building entrance. "Yeah. Same time, same place."

Sol ran a hand through his silver hair, looking like he wanted to say more. "Just... take it easy, both of you. We're hitting the road for the next case in a week. I need you both at full strength."

"We'll be fine," Angelo said, already walking away. "Trust me."

They launched into the air, their glowing forms cutting through the evening sky like shooting stars. The city spread out below them—a carpet of lights and moving traffic that looked almost peaceful from up here. Neither of them spoke during the flight, but Angelo could feel Miriam's worried glances.

As their house came into view, Angelo's enhanced eyesight caught something that made his stomach sink. A familiar figure leaned against their front wall, bandaged but unmistakable.

They touched down on the sidewalk, and Angelo couldn't hide his shock. "Sleeser?! What the hell are you doing here? Again! How do you even know where I live now?"

Sleeser pushed off from the wall with a careful movement, his trademark smirk firmly in place despite the bandages covering half his body. "What can I say? Things got quieter at the border, so I figured I'd drop by!"

"That's like, word-for-word what you said last time," Angelo muttered, annoyed.

Sleeser chuckled, his eyes taking in Angelo's strange new outfit. "Love the jacket upgrade. But what's with the glow-stick strips?"

"Angelo," Miriam stepped forward with that tone mothers use when they're about to enforce manners. "Aren't you going to introduce your friend properly?"

"Right, sorry." Angelo rubbed the back of his neck. "Let's get inside first. This isn't really a sidewalk conversation."

Once they were through the front door, Angelo watched Sleeser's eyes wander over the family photos covering the hallway walls. His mentor's expression went carefully blank—never a good sign.

They settled into the living room, Angelo feeling like an awkward host at his own intervention. "Okay, so... Mrs. Dealer, meet Julius Sleeser. He's the guy who taught me everything I know."

"Julius?" Miriam blinked in surprise. "Really? You look way too young for such an old-fashioned name!"

Sleeser's face went red. "Please, just call me Sleeser. Everyone does."

Angelo couldn't help grinning at his mentor's embarrassment. "And Sleeser, this is Miriam. She's... well, she's basically my mom now. Adopted all three of us, sort of."

Sleeser's casual expression cracked like glass. "She what?"

Miriam smiled warmly, settling into her favorite armchair. "I like to think I've gained three sons, even if they are a handful."

"I refuse to be lumped in with these two troublemakers," Blue's voice carried its usual dignified protest through their mental link.

Sleeser's voice came out strained, like he was fighting to keep control. "You're telling me someone actually wanted to take in these three disastERS—" His voice broke completely, and he had to look away, blinking hard.

"Damn, old man..." Red's mental voice went uncharacteristically soft.

Sleeser wiped his eyes quickly, trying to pull himself together. "Sorry. That just... hit me harder than I expected."

Miriam handed him a tissue, her smile full of understanding. "You really care about them, don't you?"

Angelo shoved his hands deep in his pockets and started pacing around the couch. "Yeah, I'm not sticking around for the 'let's talk about Angelo like he's not here' portion of this visit." As he moved behind the sofa, he casually slipped a small energy marble between the cushions. "You two have fun bonding over my childhood trauma."

He headed for his room, leaving Miriam and Sleeser alone. Neither of them noticed the tiny surveillance marble he'd just planted.

"He still turns red like a little kid when people talk about him," Sleeser said with a gentle laugh, settling back into the couch. "I can't tell you how much this means to me—knowing someone's looking after these three. They've been kicked around their whole lives, rejected by everyone."

In his room, Angelo pressed his fist against the wall, his jaw clenched tight against old wounds.

"At least they had you," Miriam said softly.

"Yeah, but I was more like a big brother than anything else. I could teach them to fight, sure, but I could never give them what a real mother gives." Sleeser's voice carried years of regret. "That warmth, that sense of belonging."

"Well, I haven't known them very long, but they've become part of my heart already." Miriam's smile was warm but worried. "Though I have to admit, I'm terrified about Angelo playing vigilante. I can see he's making a difference out there, but the danger he's putting himself in..."

Angelo's fists clenched tighter.

"Trust me, I get it. A few months back, I showed up here and tore into him about the same thing." Sleeser rubbed his neck, guilt written all over his face. "Looking back, I think I made it worse. Some of this mess is on me."

Angelo threw his hands up in his room, whispering furiously, "First Mom, then Albert, now Sleeser again! Why does everyone think I'm the villain here?"

"Whether you like it or not, you're operating outside the law," Blue's calm voice drifted through their shared thoughts. "That typically falls into what most people consider morally questionable territory. Hence their concern."

"Screw what other people think," Red shot back with his usual fire. "You're doing what the system's too broken to handle. Keep doing you."

Sleeser's next words made all three of them focus on the conversation again.

"I don't think we can talk him out of this path anymore. Life's going to have to teach him—probably by breaking that black-and-white view he's got going."

Miriam stared down at her hands. "Maybe you're right. What scares me most is that he's going to make enemies. Dangerous ones."

The image of Dray's cold face flashed through their minds—those black flames that ate through everything.

"Oops, way too late for that worry," Red commented with dark amusement.

"Yeah, that's a real possibility," Sleeser agreed, crossing his arms. "But Angelo's not a kid anymore. He's got to live with whatever comes from his choices."

Miriam nodded slowly. "Even so... promise me you'll be there if he needs you."

Sleeser's expression softened. "Always."

After a while, Sleeser stood up to leave.

"Angelo! Your teacher's heading out," Miriam called.

Angelo reluctantly came out of his room, barely looking at his old mentor. "Back to border duty?"

"Yep, that's the plan." Sleeser's tone was deliberately light. "But hey, listen up."

"What?"

"I know you're determined to handle everything yourself. I respect that." Sleeser's voice turned serious. "But remember this—if things go sideways and you need backup, just call. I'll drop everything and come running."

Angelo shifted uncomfortably. "I appreciate the gesture, but even if I did need help, you'd be halfway across the country..."

"Ha! I'll figure something out," Sleeser grinned, but there was steel behind his words. "Take care, kid. And ma'am, thank you for everything. Keep an eye on him for me?"

"Of course," Miriam smiled, walking him to the door.

"See you around, old man. Try not to get blown up this time," Angelo called with lazy wave.

As soon as Sleeser left, Angelo couldn't stop thinking about what he'd overheard. The conversation played in his head on repeat until darkness fell over the city. Finally, it was time.

He slipped out his bedroom window, his glowing form cutting through the night air toward their usual meeting spot. He found Neiva waiting on a rooftop behind some water tanks.

"Ready to move?" Angelo's voice had gone cold and focused.

Neiva picked up something from beside her and slid it over her face—a metal mask that looked like a friendlier version of Red's terrifying clown face. "Ready," she said, her blue eyes blazing through the eyeholes as her aura flared to life.

"Then let's go hunting," Angelo said.