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

The dark mansion felt like it went on forever as Veronica stormed through the halls, boots echoing off ancient floorboards. Her whip cracked against her thigh with each furious step.

"When I get my hands on that smoke freak, it's gonna regret ever crossing me," she muttered, passing an ornate jar sitting on a dusty shelf.

A thin wisp of crimson smoke peeked out from inside the jar. "Yep, that's me. You're probably wondering how I ended up in this mess. Well, it all started when this crazy whip lady—"

"What the hell are you babbling about?!" Angelo's voice cut through Red's internal monologue like a sword through silk. Sol and Neiva exchanged worried glances at his sharp tone.

"Hey!" Red's voice crackled with pure outrage. "I don't go around interrupting YOUR inner monologue! What gives you the right to shit all over mine?!"

Angelo dragged both hands down his face, looking like he'd aged ten years in ten seconds. He didn't even bother keeping his response internal. "For the love of— Just finish the damn mission and get out before she finds you!"

"She?" Neiva leaned forward, concern flickering in her eyes.

Angelo's shoulders sagged. "Veronica."

"Fantastic." Sol's voice was flatter than week-old soda. "Come on, Red. We're counting on you here."

"Yeah, yeah, don't get your panties in a twist!" Red shot back, his smoke form already drifting toward the opposite end of the mansion. "I've got just the trick for this. Heh, heh."

"Whatever scheme you're concocting, please attempt to minimize the destruction," Blue commented, his tone as dry as ancient parchment.

"Can't make any promises there, Blue boy," Red said before vanishing into the shadows.

Fifteen minutes of careful maneuvering and one close call later, Red finally positioned himself back in the study. The puppet of chaos materialized, but instead of searching the old-fashioned way, it threw its arms up dramatically.

"Time to kick this into high gear!" Four smoky tentacles burst from his body like octopus arms, each one heading in a different direction. One yanked documents from a bookshelf, flipping through pages faster than a speed reader on caffeine. Another rifled through papers scattered across the massive desk. The puppet itself wrenched open drawers, its movements jerky and unnatural.

Above, Blue watched Red's face twist and relax in rapid succession, like someone having the world's most intense fever dream. When Blue shifted his attention to what Red was seeing, his eyes went wide. Scenes flashed by in milliseconds—documents, drawers, desktop clutter. The sensory overload would've made most people puke, but Red handled it like a pro, even if it was pushing him to his absolute limit.

Angelo couldn't help being impressed. "Even his brain operates in pure chaos mode," he muttered under his breath.

Just then, through a tiny crimson marble he'd stuck to the ceiling—too small to glow much but perfect for surveillance—Red spotted Veronica approaching down the hall. He stopped his frantic searching, his real body grinning like a maniac.

"Showtime," he whispered, eyes still squeezed shut.

A sharp crack echoed from somewhere deep in the mansion, followed by the crash of falling objects. Veronica spun toward the noise like a hunting dog catching a scent, then sprinted toward the sound. Red immediately resumed his search.

"Not bad at all," Angelo admitted with grudging respect.

"What did he do?" Neiva asked, practically bouncing with curiosity.

Angelo turned to her, a hint of admiration in his voice. "He planted little energy charges around the mansion earlier, plus that marble above him acting like a security camera. When Veronica got too close, he detonated one in a completely different room to draw her away."

Sol let out a low whistle. "Clever bastard. It does blow our cover a bit since that proves someone was here, but there's no way they can trace it back to us."

"Maybe not," Neiva started, biting her lip, "but I'm sure they'll have their suspicions..."

"Yeah," Angelo and Sol said at the same time, both knowing this wasn't their worst-case scenario, but definitely not their best either.

"Hold up!" Red's voice cut through their discussion like a knife. "I think I struck gold here, Angie!"

Angelo's eyes narrowed as if he was staring through Red's own vision. "Red says he found something," he relayed to the others.

"Really?" Neiva perked up like an excited puppy. "What is it?"

He looked at the document Red was holding, "Looks like transaction records? I'm not exactly an expert on this paperwork stuff," Angelo admitted, squinting harder.

"Are the amounts unusually high?" Sol pressed.

"I don't know. Could be? Is fifty thousand considered high for furniture?" Angelo replied, his frustration evident. Sol simply stared at him in disbelief.

"Check this out," Red pointed at a signature repeated across multiple documents. "Megan Olive. This bitch has signed off on everything - fifty grand for furniture, thirty for some landscaping bullshit, forty for 'security consultation'. Whoever she is, she's definitely in on it."

"He says this Megan Olive person signed all these documents. Thinks she might know something about... wait." Angelo's face went pale as realization hit him. "You want to interrogate this Megan person?"

Sol and Neiva stared at him in alarm. Each conflicted for their own reason.

"Hell yeah! We grab her and squeeze the information out. Simple as that!" Red said with disturbing enthusiasm. Then he froze, spotting Veronica approaching again through his tiny surveillance marble. "Oh no you don't! BAM!" Another explosion echoed through the mansion.

"What the fuck!" Veronica spun toward the new noise, breaking into a run. But halfway there, she slowed to a stop, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Wait just a damn minute... There was nothing in that other room except some knocked-over chairs... And this happened right when I got close to the..." Her eyes went wide with fury as she spun around, charging toward Red's location. "You sneaky piece of shit!"

"Oops!" Red's real body chirped cheerfully. "Looks like the jig is up." His aura faded and his eyes snapped open, making all of his energy down bellow disappear.

When Veronica burst through the door, she caught the faintest glimpse of the last crimson particles dissolving into nothingness. In her rage, she ripped the door off its hinges, crushing the heavy wood in her bare hands like it was made of cardboard.

Veronica stood breathing hard over the wreckage, her head snapping up as light flooded the hallway.

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"What the hell was all that racket?" Zeke's voice drifted from behind her, heavy with sleep.

"Yeah, seriously. Some of us need our beauty sleep," Zack yawned, looking like he'd been dragged through a hedge backwards.

Veronica's face burned with embarrassment as she clenched her teeth. "That damn fog creature struck again," she muttered, turning back to survey the destroyed room. Everything looked like it had been hit by a tornado—papers scattered everywhere, drawers yanked open, furniture overturned.

She walked over to the massive desk, her boots crunching on broken glass. "What was this thing looking for?"

The twins exchanged a meaningful glance before Zeke stepped forward, suddenly more alert. "Hold up. You're telling me someone actually tried to rob us? Here?"

Zack let out a low whistle. "That takes some serious balls—Ow!" He yelped as Zeke's elbow found his ribs. "What was that for?"

"Rob... or gather intelligence," Veronica said slowly, her eyes scanning the chaos. She noticed a small stack of documents on the floor, as if someone had been holding them together before dropping everything and running. Bending down, she picked them up and immediately spotted the same signature on each one. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Megan could be its next target. We need to get her somewhere safe. Now."

"The accountant lady?" Zack asked, scratching his messy hair.

"Yes, Zack. THE accountant," Veronica replied with exaggerated patience.

"Any idea who could've pulled this off?" Zeke pressed, his mind already working through possibilities.

"What color did you say that fog monster was?" Zack chimed in.

Veronica's face twisted with disgust. "Red. Disgusting crimson red."

The twins looked at each other, and Zack's face lit up with recognition. "Well, there's this total nutcase—one of those triplets in Angelo's group."

"Then again," Zeke said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin, "red's a pretty common aura color. Could be anyone."

"Zack." Veronica's voice turned sharp as a blade. "You've got eyes on the inn where they're staying, right? Call your contact. I want to know if anyone left that building in the last few hours."

"Ugh, seriously? Can't this wait until morning? I'm totally not a night person..." Zack groaned, his shoulders sagging.

"Zaaack." She dragged his name out like a threat wrapped in silk.

"Fine, fine. Twist my arm, why don't you," he grumbled, turning and stomping toward his room like a sulky teenager.

Zeke called after him with obvious amusement, "That's what you get for volunteering yourself for things!"

"I'm already starting to regret it!" Zack whined back without even turning around.

Meanwhile, back at the inn, Angelo, Sol, and Neiva huddled around their small table, discussing their next move while Red and Blue made their way back through the night sky as wisps of colored smoke.

"How are we supposed to find her?" Angelo asked, frustration creeping into his voice. "We don't even know what she looks like."

"True enough," Sol nodded, his fingers drumming against the worn wood. "But we've got someone who might have answers."

"Sam?" Neiva asked, leaning forward.

Sol turned to her with a slight smile. "Exactly. She's been quietly keeping tabs on the Cliffhangers this whole time. She might know who this Megan person is."

"And then what?" Angelo demanded, his voice getting harder. "We actually kidnap her?"

"What, you suddenly grew a conscience?" Sol crossed his arms, eyebrow raised.

"What, you suddenly lost yours?" Angelo shot back, matching his defensive posture.

Neiva quickly stepped between them, hands raised. "Look, fighting each other isn't going to solve anything."

Angelo's jaw tightened. "Well excuse me for having a problem with kidnapping some innocent woman."

Sol let out a humorless laugh that sounded more like a bark. "Innocent? Dude, she's probably neck-deep in whatever the Cliffhangers are pulling. Could be money laundering, embezzlement, or she knows exactly where all that cash came from—but she's getting paid well enough to keep her mouth shut and play along."

Angelo's jaw worked silently, clearly unable to argue with that logic.

"So what now?" Neiva asked, glancing between them. "Should we go ask Sam? She gave us her address in case we needed to talk urgently in person."

"As if these morons know how to tap a phone. Totally pointless paranoia!" Red's mental voice echoed with typical mockery.

"It's called taking precautionary measures. You'd benefit from learning the concept," Blue's response sliced through their shared link with surgical precision.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Red mentally rolled his eyes.

"Hate to say it," Sol began, "but we'll have to send Red or Blue to talk with Sam."

Just then, both aspects arrived, squeezing through the window as colored smoke before diving into Angelo and immediately materializing again.

"I must respectfully decline," Blue said with formal politeness, just as Red burst out with, "What? Hell no! Why me?!"

"Because they're watching us, but you two are harder to spot, especially at night," Angelo explained, his tone suggesting this should be obvious.

"You do it then. Just make a puppet like I do," Red crossed his arms defiantly.

Angelo's expression twisted like he'd bitten into something sour. "I can't do it like you, and you damn well know it." The admission clearly pained him.

Red's mouth curved into his trademark malicious grin. "Oh, I know. I just love hearing you admit it."

Angelo grumbled something under his breath before firing back, "The only reason you can do it is because your brain abandoned your body ages ago."

"Are you calling me stupid?!" Red's face went from grinning to furious in a heartbeat.

"See? You just proved my point," Angelo replied with infuriating calm.

"Why you—!" Red's eyes flashed crimson before Blue smoothly stepped between them.

"That's quite enough, gentlemen." Blue shot disapproving looks at both his duplicates. "These juvenile arguments accomplish nothing."

Both of them huffed and turned away from each other, making Neiva and Sol shake their heads in perfect unison.

"Sorry," Sol said, "but it really has to be Red or Blue. Even if Angelo could do the puppet thing, it can't actually talk, right?"

The logic hit both Red and Blue like a slap. They exchanged glances, suddenly realizing they were out of excuses.

"Why won't you do it, Blue?" Neiva asked gently.

Blue sighed and adjusted his imaginary glasses. "Getting directly involved irritates me beyond measure. As I've mentioned before, I consider myself an observer. I much prefer to remain uninvolved in your affairs unless absolutely necessary."

"Fine, fine! I'll do it!" Red suddenly exploded. "I need some fresh air anyway." He shot a dismissive glance at Angelo, neither meeting the other's eyes. "Just tell me how to get there."

Sol spread a map of the town across the table, and after a moment of searching, he circled an area. "Should be one of the houses around here." He looked up at Red, who was staring at him like he had something embarrassing to say. "What?"

Red shifted his weight, irritation written all over his face. "Yeah, so... I'm not exactly great with maps."

"Terrible with directions," Angelo agreed without missing a beat.

"So are you!" Red shot back.

"I know. Never said I wasn't," Angelo replied with maddening calm.

Neiva stepped in with a patient smile. "I can make it easy for you. You know how to get from here to the shopping district, right?" Red nodded reluctantly. "From there, take the left road if you're facing the ocean. Pass three alleys, then look for her house."

"Sounds simple enough..." Red said, his usual manic energy nowhere to be found. "Right then. Let's get this over with."

He dissolved into smoke, rushed into Angelo—who tried his best to ignore the intrusion—then shot out as crimson mist that squeezed itself through the window into the dark night.

As Red drifted past the Cliffhangers monitoring their inn, he caught one of them talking on a phone: "No sir, nobody's left the building for at least... uh, what time is it?" The guard turned to his partner.

Red didn't stick around to hear the rest. It was obvious what was happening. "Looks like they think it was us," he thought, his usual chaotic energy still dampened.

"We expected as much," Blue replied through their link.

Red followed Neiva's directions, turning left at the shopping district. "That's one," he muttered to himself, passing the first alley.

"Two..."

"Three." He paused, suddenly uncertain. "Wait, do I go into the third alley or after it?"

Angelo sighed like the answer should be obvious, then turned to Neiva. "Is he supposed to go into the third alley or past it?"

"Past the third," she corrected.

"Got it..." Red said without enthusiasm before continuing. "So her house should be one of these... fantastic."

He looked around at the row of identical houses before floating into the first one. Different people slept peacefully in the bedroom. "Nope, not this one." He tried the next house. "Not that one either."

Finally, he entered a house and found Sam sleeping alone in a small bed.

Red materialized, still sour about the whole situation. He placed his palm on her shoulder and shook her gently. "Hey. Wake up," he said with all the enthusiasm of a funeral director.

Sam's eyes slowly opened, then went wide with terror when she registered the uninvited guest. She opened her mouth and a small scream escaped, but Red quickly covered it, his eyes glowing crimson.

"Skip the screaming! It's me!" When he saw recognition dawn in her eyes, he lowered his hand.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" she hissed under her breath. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"Look, lady, I'm not thrilled about it either," Red said, but then something made him grin. "But you might want to cover up a bit. Nice bra, by the way. Isn't it cold sleeping in your underwear?"

Sam looked down at herself, then quickly pulled her blanket up to her chest. "What do you want?"

"We need your help finding someone," Red replied. "Ever heard of—"

"Mom?" A young voice came from behind them. Red looked over his shoulder to find a small boy rubbing his eyes, which then went wide with alarm.

"Who... who are you?"