A gentle breeze drifted through the room, stirring Lorelei awake. She shivered, pulling the thin blanket closer before slowly sitting up. The window had been left open all night, and the cold fall morning had crept in, claiming her bedroom as part of its territory.
Why is it so cold?
She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and padded over to close the window. Her gaze drifted to the chairs still pulled up beside her bed—silent reminders of everything that had happened the night before. She sighed. So many pieces refused to fit together: Iria's story, Brant and Samuel's tangled past. Everything was connected somehow, yet the threads kept slipping through her fingers. For someone who chased answers, Lorelei felt she had only gathered more questions. As soon as she found an answer to her question another rose to take its place, and the cycle repeated endlessly, like a wheel that never stopped turning.
What if I knew everything?
It was a question Lorelei asked herself frequently. Knowing everything would mean answering all her questions, but at the same time, what would that "everything" be? For her, even if she knew that "everything", a question would still be left unanswered. Three knocks on the door interrupted her train of thought. Brant came in with a bright smile on his face and closed the door behind him.
"Morning!" he said, his voice warm and full of energy.
Lorelei almost convinced herself that the day before had been a dream, judging from his expression alone. She had braced herself for awkwardness between them, expecting the weight of yesterday to hang heavy in the air. But Brant seemed determined not to let it crack the bond they had built. He settled onto the edge of her bed and met her eyes.
"I'm sorry about yesterday. I—uh—wasn't thinking straight. Don't feel like you have to stay because of me. I don't want to drag you down." He stood and offered her that radiant smile again. "I want to see you off with the best of smiles!"
His words struck something deep inside Lorelei. Leaving them with a smile felt impossible—whenever she imagined the moment, she saw herself crumbling into tears instead. Brant and Samuel had set the standard for her. They were men she admired, people she would always look up to. Another three knocks echoed through the room, and Samuel entered, a briefcase in hand. Lorelei had come to learn that briefcases were among his favorite things—perhaps even more than his arsenal.
"Morning, Rei," he said softly. "Did you sleep well?"
"Yeah!"
"Glad to hear it. Have a seat, won't you?"
He walked over and settled into the chair beside her bed. Brant joined him after a brief stretch, flexing his arms as if warming up for something important.
"We were planning to give you this later, but this idiot went ahead and ruined the surprise," he said, jabbing a glare at Brant.
Samuel lifted the briefcase from the floor and set it on his lap. The latches clicked open, revealing a jet-black glove resting atop a soft cloud of white fabric.
"We noticed you only have one," he said with a small laugh. "Black… white, you know."
"You like it?" Brant asked eagerly.
Lorelei hesitated, then reached out and took the glove, turning it over in her hands. It was thin and lightweight, much like the one she already owned, but the texture was strange—almost impossibly smooth, with a subtle warmth that seemed to pulse beneath her fingertips.
"Try it on," they said in unison, offering her tender smiles.
"Can I… really?"
They nodded.
"It's for you, after all," Samuel said. "Can't exactly send you off with nothing, can we?"
"Yup!" Brant chimed in.
She felt a surge of energy rapidly entering her body; the particles around her became even clearer, as if she saw the very nature of those particles.
"How do you feel?" Samuel asked.
"Accelerated? I'm not sure. The particles… they don't feel normal."
"That's because it enhances your internal energy flow. Once that happens, your body rapidly absorbs more energy—makes the whole process smoother and faster. And the best part?" A hint of pride crept into his voice. "The glove is resistant to electricity, fire, acid—you name it. It has high resistance, but that doesn't make it indestructible. Take good care of it."
"I will! Thank you." She paused, her voice softening. "Thank you for everything."
"Hold your horses!" Brant interrupted with a grin. "It's a little too soon for that. We've still got a few days left!"
Lorelei smiled and nodded. Then Samuel's voice grew serious, quiet in a way that made the room feel smaller.
"For us, family isn't about blood. It's about loyalty, and caring for one another. What are blood ties without any bonds to hold them together? I mean it, Rei. You're family to us. You don't need to share the same blood to call someone family. Family is loyalty. That's how Brant and I are still alive today—we're loyal to each other. We care for one another. And we care for you."
He reached out and placed his hand over hers. "Family, Rei. Family. Don't forget that."
Lorelei felt tears welling up, burning behind her eyes, but she held them back—just barely. "Mhm. Family!"
And yet, a wave of guilt crashed over her. She hadn't told them the whole truth. She hadn't even told them her real name. But it didn't matter anymore, she decided. Being called Rei was enough.
Loyalty and care.
That was what it meant to be a Fidelya.
"Today is The Bleeding." Brant's voice cut through the quiet. "I bet you've never seen it, have you?"
"No."
"Alright, then—we're going out today. We don't have anyone to mourn ourselves, but the people of the city could use a shoulder to lean on."
"Dress up, and let's go," Samuel said, already heading for the door.
Brant gave her hair a light pat before following. Lorelei rose and took a quick shower, then slipped into fresh clothes. She pulled on both gloves and reached for the door handle—but paused, her fingers hovering just above the metal.
"Hey."
"…"
"Why did you tell me not to tell them my real name?"
"So you could let go of the past. A name is proof of everything you've carried since birth. Letting go of your birth name means letting go of what came before—and making room to adapt to your new life. Tell them if you want, but I wouldn't recommend it. Loyalty and care. Sometimes, lies are what's needed to protect that loyalty."
"…"
Lorelei said nothing more and opened the door. She crossed the mansion and found Samuel and Brant waiting at the main entrance, both dressed in crisp black suits. They reminded her of the first time they'd met—only now the suits seemed cleaner, sharper, more deliberate.
"Shall we?" Brant said, holding the door.
They stepped out into the garden and descended the stairs. Lorelei knew this might be the last time they'd ever walk together like this, so she let herself savor the moment, slowing her pace just enough to properly enjoy the breeze. Samuel and Brant noticed, but said nothing—they simply matched her stride, content to walk at her side. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Brant turned to her with a serious look.
"Don't say anything, alright? During The Bleeding, Vinyl lost most of its people after the capital. Those who are still here made it this far by relying on each other. So don't worry—just stick with us."
Lorelei nodded.
They made their way toward Vinyl's main street. Everyone was dressed in black, and the sound of weeping echoed from every corner. Some tried to comfort the mourners, offering embraces and whispered words. Brant and Samuel did their best, weaving through the crowd, but nothing could truly stop the living from crying over a loss. It was a fundamental part of being human.
Lorelei watched from a short distance as the two men went around, comforting those they knew.
"Stay strong; everything will be okay."
"The future will be better—I promise."
Empty promises, she thought. Words meant only to soothe the heart for a moment. If there were ever a way to end the mourning entirely, it would be to erase the very existence of the dead.
"Would there be anyone crying if they were forgotten?"
"…"
Lorelei froze, at a loss. The figure was right. If there was no one left to remember, how could anyone weep?
"That's wrong," she whispered.
"Then what separates good from bad? What dictates it? Why would this way of solving the problem be wrong?"
"It just is," she said, louder this time.
"Morals, Lorelei. It's morals that bind you. Cast aside those useless ideals if you want any chance of surviving. Morals mean nothing—humans are born following nature's rules. Only through teaching do they learn what they call right. Religious morals, family morals, society morals. All of it is nothing but means to suppress human nature."
"Stop!" she screamed.
Heads turned as people stared at her talking to herself. She ignored them, walking over to fall in step with Brant and Samuel, who led the way toward a familiar building—the place where Brant had brought her to meet the woman who cared for the small children. Samuel pushed the gate open, and they entered the little yard where the children used to play. This time, no one came rushing at Brant. Only faint sniffles drifted from somewhere ahead. They pushed open the building's door and stepped inside. It looked just as it had two months ago: crayon drawings covering every wall, bright colors fighting against the gloom. The old place had not changed, but the air growing from inside told a different story.
The sniffles grew into muffled cries as they made their way down the hall, opening door after door. At last they found the lady slumped in a chair, head bowed to the table, children gathered around her. When the children spotted Brant and Samuel, their faces brightened briefly, but the heavy tension settled back almost instantly.
"Can you give us a second?" Samuel asked, kneeling to their level.
The children nodded and filed out of the room. Brant closed the door after them, then walked to the lady, gently resting a hand on her back.
"It's gonna be okay," he said softly.
Samuel knelt down beside her. "Marie, it's alright. Calm down."
The woman kept crying, but slowly she turned and buried herself in their arms, sobbing into their shoulders. Time slipped by until the tears ran dry. She wiped her red, swollen eyes, then forced a smile. They didn't buy it—they stayed. Brant sat down in front of her while Samuel came over to Lorelei.
"She and her husband started this orphanage together," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "He died during The Bleeding. Right in front of her eyes. He ripped his throat open and bled to death."
"Your predecessor."
"…"
"The first angel, Lorelei. He was imperfect. You know why? Because he lacked the ability to take away memories. He ravaged the world and left nothing behind but sorrow and grief. You are different. We are different."
Lorelei fought the urge to scream, to tell the figure to shut up. She bit down on her tongue until she tasted blood, forcing herself to stay silent.
"She's done her best to raise these children on her own," Samuel continued. "We've helped where we could, but there's only so much you can do for someone."
Brant rose and waved to Samuel. "Come on, let's go."
They were halfway to the door when Marie's voice stopped them—small and trembling.
"Thank you…"
She bowed; they bowed back. Brant and Samuel hugged each of the children on their way out, patting their heads and whispering gentle words. At the gate, they waved one last time before stepping back into the streets of Vinyl.
"Let's go check on Po—"
A deafening explosion tore through the air right behind Brant, at the city's center. A wall of smoke swallowed the scene.
All three coughed, choking on the thick cloud. Then an unnatural wind swept in, pushing the smoke aside and revealing a crater gouged into the ground. Lorelei's ears rang from the blast. She stumbled, reaching out to steady herself—her hand landed on something. When her eyes reopened, she found a severed leg beneath her palm. She reeled back and collapsed into what looked like a puddle of water. But when she looked down, she saw only blood—the body it belonged to had been torn in half. A man, his eyes still wide, his soul already gone.
"Rei! Rei! Rei!" Samuel and Brant shouted her name, but she couldn't answer.
All around them, bodies lay scattered. The wounded groaned and writhed, but nothing could be done for them. Those further from the blast—like Brant and Samuel—screamed at the tops of their lungs, scrambling to escape.
"Come back to me! Reili!"
Brant decided to take Lorelei in her arms and started running. Lorelei felt a sharp pain coming from her stomach. She looked at her abdomen to see debris lodged inside her body. Part of what used to be a street tile pierced right inside her.
"Look up!" someone in the crowd screamed.
A bolt of energy streaked across the sky, still distant enough to look like a tiny pebble.
"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Brant screamed, running even faster. "Get away!"