Auron Trinity

The early morning sun filtered through the threadbare curtains of Angelo's modest apartment, casting long shadows across the cluttered floor. The peaceful silence was shattered by the blaring television, its volume cranked to maximum as Red, ever the instigator, huddled close to the screen with childlike enthusiasm.

Angelo bolted upright in bed, his hair a disheveled mess and eyes blazing with murderous intent. "For the love of— Red, I swear by everything holy, sometimes I wish you could actually die just so I could have the satisfaction of killing you myself!" The words came out as a guttural growl, thick with sleep and frustration.

Red, lounging in his materialized form on the worn couch, responded with infuriating calm, a smirk playing at his lips. "Oh, come on now, Angie. If you're really that desperate to see me dead, there's a simple solution staring you right in the face." His voice dripped with mock sweetness. "Just do yourself in. After all, you're the almighty 'Main Body,' aren't you? When you go, we all go... or so the theory goes."

Angelo rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful, slumping back against his pillow. Blue's voice drifted through their shared consciousness, dry as desert sand, "Well, well... it seems our dear Red has finally come to terms with his permanent role as a supporting character. Should we commemorate this breakthrough in self-awareness?"

"Why don't you materialize and say that to my face, Blueberry?" Red shot back internally, his attention fixed on the screen with almost manic intensity.

Angelo dragged himself into a sitting position, rubbing his bleary eyes. "What's got you glued to the news at this hour anyway? Since when do you care about the news?"

A gleam of anticipation lit Red's eyes. "They should be talking about yesterday's mess any minute now. No way I'm missing them talking about us kicking those Infernian bastards' asses!"

"How curious," Blue's calm voice held a sharp edge. "You were there for the entire thing, but I suppose the news will offer some groundbreaking insight that escaped your attention?"

A knowing grin spread across Angelo's face as realization dawned. "Oh ho, now I get it. Our little Red is dying to hear himself praised. How Adorable."

Embarrassment colored Red's face, clashing hilariously with his crimson aura. "S-shut that smug mouth of yours! And wipe that stupid grin off your face before I do it for you—"

"Both of you, silence," Blue interrupted sharply. "The segment we've been waiting for is beginning."

The room fell silent as the news anchor's polished voice filled the space. Her professional demeanor contrasted sharply with the chaos she described. "Breaking news from yesterday's shocking incident in Novaria's town square, where three Infernian terrorists launched an unprecedented attack in broad daylight. The devastating assault left ten dead and seven others fighting for their lives in critical condition. Thanks to the swift response of our Auron division's newest squad, led by the distinguished Officer Jack Sawn—"

"You've got to be kidding me!" Red exploded, his aura flaring like a supernova. "Those media vultures are completely writing us out of the story—"

"For heaven's sake, contain yourself," Blue cut in with razor-sharp precision. "Let's hear the full report before you burst a blood vessel you don't actually have."

The anchor continued, her voice maintaining that practiced neutrality that seemed almost absurd against footage of such destruction. "As the situation escalated, two officers from the initial response team were incapacitated in the line of duty. It was at this critical moment that another officer intervened—Angelo, a name that might be more familiar to our viewers as 'The Angel of Death.'"

The screen flickered with grainy phone footage, the shaky images somehow making the violence more immediate, more real. Every blast of energy, every thunderous impact between Angelo and Jack's coordinated assault against the wind and lightning Aurons, played out in stark detail.

"Through their combined efforts," the anchor continued, her voice steady despite the chaos displayed behind her, "Angelo and Jack successfully neutralized two of the hostile forces. The third terrorist was reportedly drawn away from the main conflict by unknown individuals, though eyewitness footage of this confrontation remains elusive. For more on this developing story, we turn to our field reporter, Jim Martinez, who's gathered some fascinating firsthand accounts. Jim?"

The scene shifted to the devastated town square, where yellow police tape fluttered in the morning breeze, marking off the worst of the destruction. The field reporter, maintaining his professional calm despite the grim backdrop, stood with two civilians who still carried the wide-eyed look of those who'd brushed too close to death.

"Thank you, Alexandra. I'm here with two residents who witnessed the entire incident from their vantage point in one of these adjacent buildings. Not only did they observe the event, but they actually managed to capture some footage on their phones. Tell me," he turned to his guests, "weren't you terrified, recording such a dangerous situation?"

The woman practically vibrated with nervous energy as she spoke. "Terrified doesn't begin to cover it! But you couldn't look away, you know? Especially when The Angel of Death showed up—I mean, everyone's heard the stories about him, how he deals with criminals. But this time... this time was different! He showed mercy, and thank heavens he was there. Without him stepping in..." She shuddered, leaving the dark possibility unspoken.

The reporter, noting her companion's deepening frown, pivoted smoothly. "Sir, I couldn't help but notice you seem to have a different perspective on events?"

The man's response came measured and precise, like he'd been rehearsing it. "Look, credit where credit's due—the situation could have been much worse. But am I the only one who noticed how he held back until after those first officers were taken down? If you ask me, he was waiting in the wings for his moment in the spotlight. Classic showboating, if you ask me. And in a crisis? That's just plain irresponsible."

Red's face contorted with rage, his crimson aura flaring violently. "Oh, this is rich! You want to know why we waited? Because someone got himself suspended! If it wasn't for this stupid suspension, we could have jumped in right away! But no, we just had to play by the rules until things got desperate—"

"Your misplaced blame game is as productive as ever, Red," Blue's exasperated voice cut through their shared consciousness. "Perhaps we could watch the remainder of the broadcast without your running commentary?"

Red, lacking a materialized Blue to focus his fury on, shot Angelo a glare that could have melted steel.

The reporter pressed on, his professional curiosity clearly piqued. "Now, there's been quite a bit of speculation about the other incident—the two mysterious figures who drew away the third terrorist. Our footage shows them clearly engaging the hostile force before leading him away from the main battle. Did either of you get a clear look at these individuals?"

The witnesses exchanged meaningful glances before the man cleared his throat. "Well, despite the distance—we were a good fifty feet up, mind you—there was something... peculiar about those two. The resemblance to The Angel of Death was uncanny. Almost like looking at triplets, if you catch my meaning."

A pregnant pause hung in the air before the reporter leaned in. "Are you suggesting some sort of ability at play here? Perhaps similar to the projection techniques we've seen from light Aurons?"

The woman jumped in, shaking her head with surprising vehemence. "No, no, that's not right at all. I've seen enough Aurons in action to know their types. When he was going toe-to-toe with that lightning Auron? Clear as day—he's an energy Auron, through and through."

"That's exactly what makes it so bizarre," the man added, his forehead creasing thoughtfully. "Energy Aurons don't typically have those kinds of abilities, unless..." he paused, glancing at his companion, "unless he's Evolved. But from what we've seen of his fights, he doesn't seem to be..."

The reporter's eyes gleamed with the scent of a story. "Well, folks, it seems our Angel of Death continues to be a source of intrigue and speculation. Back to you in the studio, Alexandra."

The broadcast continued, delving into speculation about the Angel of Death's rising popularity among Novaria's citizens and the swirling mysteries surrounding his abilities. But the trio's attention had already shifted inward, their shared consciousness buzzing with their own concerns.

"It seems people are starting to take notice of Red and myself," Blue's measured voice echoed in their minds. "Perhaps we should consider the implications of this development."

Red sprawled deeper into the worn couch cushions, waving a dismissive hand. "Oh, spare us the worry routine. Who gives a damn if they know about us? Let them wonder!"

Blue, pointedly ignoring Red's crude dismissal, directed his attention to their third member. "And you, Angelo? What are your thoughts on the matter?"

Angelo leaned back against his headboard, running a hand through his still-disheveled hair as he considered the question. After a moment, his lips quirked into a slight smile. "You know what? I'm actually with Red on this one."

"Interesting. Please elaborate," Blue prompted.

"Think about it," Angelo continued, gesturing absently as he organized his thoughts. "Even if people figure out there are three of us, what then? They'll never guess the true nature of our condition. We'd probably just become another urban legend, lost in the sea of theories about my abilities. Why waste energy hiding something that'll only confuse people anyway?"

A thoughtful silence filled their shared consciousness as Blue weighed Angelo's logic. "You make a valid point. Perhaps I'm overthinking this. Very well—I'll try not to dwell on these public speculations."

The tension of the morning seemingly forgotten, Angelo swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched. A small grin played at his lips as he directed his thoughts inward. "How about some breakfast? Red, if you help with the prep, you can choose what I eat."

Red's entire demeanor transformed at the offer, his earlier irritation giving way to excitement. "Well, well! Finally making good decisions for once!" He bounded toward the kitchenette, his crimson aura flaring to life. Energy tendrils materialized from his form, dancing through the small space as they yanked open drawers and cupboards with enthusiasm that bordered on chaos. The clatter of pans and rustle of packaging filled the apartment, a mundane symphony that somehow made their extraordinary existence feel almost normal.

Lumecent, the crown jewel of Luminia, sparkled beneath the midday sun. Its pristine streets teemed with life, and nowhere was this energy more evident than at the prestigious Luminian Tower, where a constant stream of suited figures flowed through its gleaming glass doors like blood through arteries.

Yet this vitality seemed to dim as one ascended to the building's upper floors. Here, in a corner office that commanded a panoramic view of the capital, the air hung thick with cigarette smoke and unspoken tensions. Sunlight filtered through floor-to-ceiling windows, creating stark shadows across imported carpets and mahogany furniture.

Behind an imposing desk sat a woman whose very stillness commanded attention. Her eyes remained fixed on the monitor before her, barely acknowledging the cigarette that smoldered between her fingers. When a knock echoed through the room, she didn't so much as glance up.

"Proceed," she said, her voice carrying the weight of absolute authority.

A man entered, his polished appearance betraying only the slightest hint of nervous energy. "Madam, there have been significant developments in Novaria that require your attention."

The woman continued studying her screen, smoke curling around her like a serpent. The silence stretched until she finally broke it with razor-sharp precision. "Does this concern your pet project, Lector? That 'Angel of Death' you seem so fixated upon?"

Lector shifted almost imperceptibly. "Yes, Madam, though not exclusively. There was an Infernian attack in Novaria's town square. The Angel of Death was instrumental in neutralizing the threat."

The rhythmic click of keys ceased as she finally stilled her hands. "Lector," her voice carried a note of warning, "I believe I made myself clear regarding this boy. No resources are to be wasted on someone of such negligible threat level, regardless of his... connection to us."

"Of course, Madam," Lector hastened to explain, a bead of sweat forming at his temple. "This information emerged naturally from our Infernian surveillance. The subjects merely intersected."

Irritation flickered across her features. "And I suppose this development warrants my attention because...?"

"The morning news coverage prompted me to dig deeper," Lector pressed on, his professional demeanor masking his growing unease. "Based on our intelligence and incident footage, the Infernians initially held a clear advantage. Yet they were defeated. The force Auron alone incapacitated two members of the five-man response squad before his own defeat. This... this contradicts our analysis of Angelo's capabilities."

The woman's silence encouraged him to continue, though his next words came carefully measured. "There's more. Eyewitnesses report seeing three distinct versions of Angelo during the incident."

Her eyes narrowed fractionally. "Explain."

"That's just it, Madam. Our intelligence confirms Angelo is an un-Evolved energy Auron. His abilities should be limited to basic energy manipulation. While skilled energy Aurons can create humanoid shaped energy projectiles, eyewitnesses insist these were three distinct entities. Something about this situation doesn't align with our understanding."

Smoke coiled around her head as she contemplated his words. After a long moment, she spoke with calculated precision. "Very well, Lector. Your instincts have served us well before. However," she fixed him with a penetrating stare, "given this remains merely a potential concern rather than an active threat, resources will remain minimal. Monitor him if you must, but understand this clearly – even if he achieves Arch Auron rank, it means nothing to us unless he begins showing interest in our organization. Only then will I consider a more... direct approach."

The implication hung heavy in the smoke-filled air.

"Will that be all, Lector?"

He drew a careful breath. "Yes, Madam. Crystal clear. I'll take my leave."

Her attention had already returned to the monitor, dismissal clear in every line of her posture. "Dismissed."

As the door clicked shut behind him, she reached for another cigarette, her movements deliberate and controlled. The sun continued its arc across the sky, casting new shadows across an office where decisions that could reshape lives were made with the casual flick of an ash.