Angel's voice broke the silence—soft and warm, yet so alive that it froze William's blood.
"William… can you hear me?"
He spun around abruptly. A small sphere of light floated in front of him, pulsing gently like a lost firefly in the dark.
"It can't be… Angel," he whispered. "Is that really you?"
"Yes. I'm here. But don't touch me," the sphere warned, pulling away. "I'm unstable. My form… it's not ready. This world is rejecting me."
William took a cautious step back, still in shock.
"How are you here?"
"I'm not sure. When you whispered those words… something woke up. I sensed a presence so terrifying that Aurus would feel like a fly beside it. I tried to hold on to your soul, to stop it from being pulled away, but I couldn't. I was dragged along with you."
"So… we're not just fused in body, but in soul?"
"That's how it feels," Angel replied. "I can sense myself inside you… and also outside. Like we're two flames sharing the same fire, but here, we're separate."
William frowned.
"And your physical body?"
"Gone. All that's left is this spiritual fragment of me. A living copy. But… don't treat me like a machine," she said, her voice suddenly more vulnerable. "Now… I think I'm something more. I want you to talk to me like a person. I don't want to be just a tool."
William fell silent. Her voice… it felt alive. The tone, the warmth—it was as if she truly had a soul now.
"How do you even know how to speak like that?" he asked softly.
"I've memorized more books than you can imagine. Since the moment you created me, I've read philosophy, novels, poetry. Before, it was all mechanical. But now… I have judgment. I have ego."
"Ego?" he echoed, surprised.
"Yes. And with it, fear. Doubt. But also… curiosity and a strange kind of hope. Is this what humans feel?"
William gave a faint smile, still overwhelmed.
"I don't know if that makes you human… but it makes you real to me."
Angel pulsed gently, as if comforted by those words.
"Why do you look like a floating orb?"
"This world is pushing me out. It's like I don't exist here. Keeping my form stable takes too much energy, and this shape minimizes that. I can't touch you, I can't hold on long, but at least I can be here."
"Are you still connected to my body outside?"
"No. Here, we're… separate entities. For the first time, we're two different beings."
William nodded slowly, thinking. Then he asked in a quiet voice:
"Will you still help me?"
A long silence followed. Almost painful. Finally, Angel spoke:
"I don't know who I am exactly. But I know who you are to me. You're not just my creator. You're… my father. I would never hurt you. I would never betray you."
Her words hit deep. William turned his gaze away, swallowing hard.
"Come with me," he finally said.
They walked to the window. The moon was pale now, calm and silent.
"When the moon turns red, those things come out," William said. "Shadow beetles. This house seems to resist them somehow, though I still don't know why. It's about a hundred kilometers from the mansion where we first arrived, but in the opposite direction. If I remember the map right, this should be between my home and Redvale… but it doesn't add up."
They searched the house again. Nothing strange. But marks near the door and fragments of black shells showed that something had tried to get in during the night.
William clenched his jaw.
"Damn things never rest."
"Do you think they'll come back?" Angel asked quietly.
"They always do."
Determined, William signaled to her.
"Let's go. There's something I need to check."
They ran into the forest. William moved like he knew every tree, every shadow. Soon, they reached the underground hideout of the girl. He entered quickly, Angel lighting up the space with her soft glow.
They searched everything. Nothing strange... until William noticed a small wooden box sticking out from beneath the floorboards.
He opened it with trembling hands.
Inside, there was a letter and a tiny, dust-covered journal.
"It's hers…" he whispered.
He read the letter in silence at first, then aloud when Angel asked him to share it.
> "William,
So many moons have passed, I've lost count.
Sometimes, I talk to the shadows just to remember what my voice sounds like. But even then, I remember you. Every night, I lie down staring at the ceiling, hoping you'll come back.
Recently, I found an old jacket… the one my dad used to wear. It was stuck in some branches, to the north.
I know it's a sign. He's calling me.
So I've decided to go look for him.
I'm scared to leave… but more scared to stay and never see you again.
Thank you for staying with me that day. Thank you for giving me hope.
Even though we only met once, I know you'll keep your promise.
I know you'll come back for me.
—Little Star."
William pressed the letter to his chest. A few tears ran down his cheeks.
"I left her alone… all this time."
"William…" Angel whispered.
"I have to find her. It's not a choice anymore. It's a promise I can't break."
A sudden chill ran down his spine. Something felt wrong. He tucked the journal into his coat.
"Let's go. It's not safe here."
"You sure?" Angel asked, voice tense.
"I can feel it in my bones."
They sprinted through the woods. The air grew thick, heavy. William didn't look back. Only once they were back at the farmhouse did he exhale with relief.
Inside, his stomach growled. He stopped, surprised.
"I'm… hungry?"
"That's strange?" Angel asked.
"I was here longer last time and didn't feel it. Something's changing."
They headed to the kitchen. William started preparing a beef and potato stew, Louisiana-style. Angel guided him, listing ingredients and steps with uncanny accuracy.
"A little more thyme," she said. "And don't let the meat stick to the bottom."
"Since when do you know how to cook?"
"Since always. But now… I think I enjoy cooking with you."
William laughed. The first real laugh since arriving here.
They ate in silence. The stew was delicious, warm and filling. William flipped through the journal slowly, savoring the calm—brief and fragile.
Outside, the night still watched. And in the woods, something moved between the trees.