Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates known as Heaven. It was ruled by beings of pure light, angels that worshiped good and shielded all from evil.”

“The Morningstar was one of these angels. He was created to be a visionary with fantastical ideas for all of creation. But his ideas were chaotic and vile, bringing imbalance to order that the Elders of Heaven worked so hard to create. Yet the other angels, out of the kindness of their hearts, let him watch as they began to expand the universe in their ways, in hopes that he can one day improve and join them. From the dust of Earth, they created Adam and Lilith, equals as the first of Mankind.”

“But despite this, Lilith was flawed. She created unnecessary conflict by refusing to work with Adam, and soon after abandoned the Garden. This act of disobedience caught the Morningstar’s attention, and the two souls influenced each other to fall even further from grace.”

“Together, they wished to corrupt the Earth by offering the Fruit of Knowledge to Adam’s new bride, Eve, who was unfortunately tricked into accepting.”

“With this single act of disobedience, evil finally found its way into Earth, and subsequently created a new realm of darkness and sin. The order Heaven worked so hard to maintain was shattered. As punishment for their reckless act, the angels were forced to cast the Morningstar and his love into the dark pit he had created, in hopes that they wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone else ever again.”

“But Heaven did not realize just how powerful Hell actually was. Demons spawned aplenty from the depths of the realm, and came up to Earth to corrupt human souls. In order to fight this, Adam valiantly stepped up and created the exorcists, an army he leads to fight the demons that come to Earth to prevent them from damning any more souls. And for the humans that were able to resist temptation? They were rewarded with an eternity in paradise. An eternity in Heaven. And it is my job as the Joybringer of this realm to make sure these souls properly adjust and experience as much happiness as possible in the afterlife.”

Emily closed the cover of the ornate storybook, the delicate gold lettering shimmering under the warm glow of the lights above. A dozen small faces gazed at her, their eyes wide with awe. She smiled as she saw their tiny hands clench together, as if the weight of the story still hung in the air around them. The youngest among them, a cherubic girl with curls that shimmered like spun gold, had her mouth slightly open, as if caught between wonder and apprehension.

“And you’re all going to help me!" Emily announced in an encouraging tone. “I want each of you to spread a little bit of joy by doing one good deed today. It can be anything, a kind word, a small favor, even a smile at someone who needs it.”

The children remained silent for a beat, glancing at one another, before a boy with feathery wings raised his hand hesitantly. “Miss Emily?” His voice was high and uncertain. “If Mister Adam made the exorcists to fight demons, then… do they ever come here?”

Ripples of unease washed through the group at the sound of the question. Some of the kids shoved their hands in their pockets, while others looked outside of the window, as if they were searching for an enemy they had only heard about in stories.

Emily’s expression remained soft. “You have no reason to worry," she said, folding her hands in front of her. "Demons do not belong in Heaven. This is a place of peace, a place where souls find their happiness.”

Another child, slightly older, tilted his head. “But Miss Emily… if the Morningstar was once an angel, does that mean—" He hesitated, his gaze darting to his peers. "Could someone… fall from here too?”

The question hung in the air, delicate yet heavy.

Emily took a slow breath before answering, her smile never faltering. “Of course not! Heaven is a place of love and guidance. If someone ever feels lost, we help them find their way again. That’s why it’s so important to spread kindness, to make sure everyone feels at home here.”

That seemed to satisfy them, at least for now. The tension in the room eased, replaced with soft nods and murmured agreements. The cherubic girl, who had remained quiet until now, lifted her chin with newfound determination. “I think I’ll give my dessert to someone who didn’t get any at lunch,” she declared proudly.

Emily beamed. “That’s a fantastic idea! Just a little bit of kindness can mean the world to someone.”

One by one, the children began to chatter excitedly, brainstorming ways to bring joy to those around them. A gentle sense of purpose filled the air, and Emily watched, satisfied, as the lesson took root.

At least until the chime of the school bell rang out, cutting through the children’s chatter like a steel blade. Immediately, the room stirred to life as the young angels sprang to their feet, wings fluttering with excitement as they rushed toward the door. Their murmured goodbyes and eager promises to complete their good deeds filled the air as they disappeared into the bright hallways beyond.

Emily remained for a moment, watching them go, a fond smile lingering on her lips. There was something about their energy. It was pure, unburdened by the weight of things beyond their control, that made her volunteer work all the more fulfilling.

Behind her, the schoolteacher, a graceful throne with golden hair, stepped forward with a warm expression. “Thank you for coming in today, Lady Emily,” she said, clasping her hands together. “I know you must be incredibly busy, given your position.”

Emily turned to her with an easy smile, shaking her head. “Just Emily is fine, and you don’t need to thank me. I like helping out where I can.” She glanced at the book still resting on the table and tapped a finger lightly against its cover. “Besides, I think it’s important for them to hear these stories. Helps them understand their place here.”

The teacher nodded in agreement, her soft blue eyes filled with gratitude. “And they certainly love hearing them from you.”

Before Emily could respond, the faint buzz of her phone vibrated against her pocket, quickly followed by a melodic ringtone. She pulled it out, her expression shifting as she saw the name flashing on the screen, Sera.

Her eyes widened slightly. Sera wasn’t one to call out of the blue unless something was urgent.

She glanced up at the teacher apologetically. “Sorry, I have to take this.”

The teacher gave a knowing smile. “Of course. Thank you again for coming.”

Emily barely had time to take a breath before Sera’s urgent voice crackled through the phone.

“Emily, I need you to come to Heaven’s gates immediately. I have a very important task for you.”

Emily straightened at the tone alone. Sera was usually the picture of calm efficiency, never one to sound pressed unless something was truly serious.

“What kind of task?”

“I’d… rather not explain it over the phone. Please just try to get here as soon as possible,” Sera replied. Her words were quick and steady, leaving no room for argument.

Emily immediately snapped into action, lifting her hand into a salute that Sera couldn’t even see. “Understood! I’ll be there lickety-split!”

She turned back toward the schoolteacher, offering an apologetic but warm smile. “Something’s come up, so I’ve got to run. Thanks again for having me!”

The teacher barely had time to nod before Emily vanished in a flash of white light.

When she reappeared, the grandeur of Heaven’s gates stretched before her. Towering and golden, they shimmered against the endless expanse of light beyond, standing as the eternal barrier between the sanctity of Heaven and the realms below. No matter how many times Emily saw them, they never failed to impress her, both in their beauty and in the sheer power they represented.

But now wasn’t the time to gawk.

Her heels barely touched the soft clouds beneath her feet before she spotted Sera standing near the entrance, her posture as composed as ever. No outward sign of distress. No immediate chaos. Just that unreadable, ever-serene expression that made it impossible to tell whether Emily was about to get a routine assignment or step into some divine disaster.

Emily hurried forward. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

Sera turned at her approach, the faintest flicker of approval in her gaze at Emily’s prompt arrival. “Everything’s fine,” she assured her, though something about the way she said it made Emily suspect there was more to it than that. “But I need to introduce you to someone.”

She gestured toward the towering gates. “St. Peter, if you would do the honors.”

From the other side, a hesitant voice called out, muffled slightly by the golden barrier. “Are you sure? I mean, he’s a—”

Sera cut him off before he could finish. “I’m sure. Just open the gates already.”

Emily blinked, shifting her weight. He? She couldn’t see St. Peter from this side, but she could practically feel his reluctance. That wasn’t a good sign.

She glanced between Sera and the still-closed gates, a tinge of curiosity creeping in. “Okaaay,” she said slowly, crossing her arms. “Am I about to regret this?”

Sera hesitated for a second before looking down at Emily. “No, but I might.”

A second later, with a deep, reluctant groan, the gates of Heaven began to creak open.

Emily instinctively took a step back, letting out a slight gasp as she caught sight of the figure standing on the other side.

He was shorter than her, but only by a few inches. A little over six feet tall if she had to guess. He exuded an undeniable presence, a blend of elegance and sharpness that felt almost… deliberate. His emerald-green hair curled effortlessly around two prominent, spiraled black horns streaked with violet. His slitted, cat-like eyes gleamed with an unsettling mix of curiosity and amusement, their piercing green hue standing stark against his golden-brown complexion. A single black star marked each of his cheeks.

His outfit was sharp and dramatic, fitted black slacks, a deep yellow vest, and a long, violet cloak that flared at the hem, adorned with tiny flecks of glowing blue. At first, Emily thought they were mere embellishments, but as she looked closer, they almost resembled diamonds. And then there was his tail, a peacock-like fan of emerald feathers, each one adorned with a beautiful pattern. It only stood out more thanks to his wings, large and dark like the vast expanse of the night sky. They stretched slightly before folding neatly behind him.

Emily barely stopped herself from staring. He was… objectively attractive, in that annoyingly flawless way. It was almost as if he was designed to be admired. But any intrigue was immediately smothered by the unmistakable wrongness that came with him. He just looked a little too perfect. Something felt off.

“Sera?” she asked, eyes not leaving the stranger. “Who is this?”

The figure took a single step forward, his movement fluid, controlled, like every motion was carefully measured for maximum effect. His lips curled into a confident smirk as he placed a hand against his chest, fingers splayed elegantly.

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll gladly introduce myself.” His voice was smooth, rich with an effortless charm that made Emily’s stomach twist in immediate distrust. “I am Vanir, the Deadly Sin of Vanity. It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you.”

Emily’s brows knit together. “Vanity?” She blinked, momentarily thrown. “That’s not a Deadly Sin.”

Her confusion quickly gave way to certainty as she folded her arms. “I know the Deadly Sins. Pride, Wrath, Gluttony, Greed, Lust, Envy, and Sloth.” She counted them off on her fingers, as if daring him to challenge her knowledge.

Vanir chuckled, shaking his head with amused patience. “Well, well, you’re certainly well-informed.”

“Of course I am!” Emily shot back, cutting him off before he could finish. “It’s the responsibility of angels like me to make sure others don’t fall to monsters like you. So don’t think your lying demon ways are going to work on me.”

Vanir exhaled a soft laugh, tilting his head. “You didn’t let me finish.”

Emily frowned, gripping her arms a little tighter.

“But ou’re not quite as well-informed as you think,” he continued smoothly, his eyes gleaming.

“Because there aren’t just seven Deadly Sins. There are—”

“Nine,” Sera interrupted, her voice cool, controlled.

Emily snapped her head toward her in surprise. “What?”

Sera’s gaze remained fixed on Vanir, her expression unreadable. “Nine, Emily. Vainglory and Acedia aren’t widely recognized anymore, but they do exist.”

Emily’s expression only grew more puzzled after what Sera said. “I don’t get it. Aren’t Vainglory and Pride basically the same thing?”

Vanir’s expression instantly shifted. A deep, inky blush spread across his cheeks as his wings twitched. His entire body bristled as he stepped closer to the younger seraphim, his dress shoes clicking sharply against the marble floor.

“They are absolutely not the same thing,” he declared, his tone suddenly sharp with indignation. “To massively oversimplify it for you, Pride is internal validation. It’s about knowing your own worth, for yourself. Vanity, my domain, is external validation. It’s about how others see you. How you want to be seen. Not. The. Same. Thing.”

He gave a pointed flick of his fingers before huffing, as if the very notion of being confused with Pride personally offended him on a cosmic level. Then, with a dramatic sigh, he waved a dismissive hand.

“And don’t even get me started on the difference between melancholy and sloth,” His voice turned sarcastic. “Yeah, great idea, just fuck over the people who are actually depressed by calling them lazy. That’ll totally fix everything.”

Emily gasped. “You cursed!”

Sera’s eyes narrowed, cold and disapproving. “Language.”

Vanir sighed dramatically, placing a hand on his hip. “My sincerest apologies,” he said, though the grin curling his lips suggested he wasn’t all that sorry. “Normally, my powers would censor me, but your lovely little anklet took care of that perfectly, now didn’t it?”

Emily’s eyes darted toward the golden anklet fastened around his ankle. A limiter, she realized. That meant—

Her gaze snapped to Sera, confusion now mixed with suspicion. “What is going on?” she asked, voice firm. “Why is he here?”

Sera hesitated for the first time since Emily had arrived. Her gaze flickered to the side, avoiding Emily’s expectant stare as she pressed her lips into a thin line. Then, after a tense beat, she exhaled and finally spoke.

“I… may have invited Vanir to stay in Heaven for the time being.”

Emily’s wings flared slightly as she reeled back, eyes widening. “You what?!” Her voice rose in pitch, as the disbelief flooded every syllable. “Why would you do something like that? You know better than anyone the kind of danger demons pose to others!”

Sera’s expression remained calm, though there was a subtle tension in her shoulders. “Of course I do.”

“Then why?”

“Because believe it or not—”

“I want to improve.”

Emily blinked, her head whipping toward Vanir, who had smoothly inserted himself into the conversation. His earlier arrogance had softened, replaced with something oddly… sincere. His piercing green eyes held hers steadily, no trace of deception in his voice as he continued.

“I don’t want to be the vile Deadly Sin you all see me as,” he said, voice steady but lacking his usual theatricality. “I want to change. To actually spread joy and goodness wherever I go.” He gave a small shrug, his peacock-like tail feathers shifting slightly behind him. “Even if no one believes me yet.”

Emily just stared at him, jaw slightly slack. Was this some kind of joke? A demon, one of the Deadly Sins no less, wanting to change? This had to be a trick of some kind. Demons are notorious tricksters after all.

Before she could form a response, Sera took a step forward. “And he’s even going to repay Heaven for helping him,” she added, her tone carefully measured. “By offering a unique ability that only he has.”

Emily’s gaze snapped back to Sera. “Wait, what ability?”

Vanir placed a hand on his chest and tilted his chin up slightly, exuding the confidence of someone revealing a grand and irrefutable truth.

“I have the power to see the future!”

…

Emily just stared at him, as if he suddenly grew a second head, before suddenly bursting into a fit of laughter.

It wasn’t just a chuckle or an amused scoff, it was a full-bodied, uncontrollable laugh that had her doubling over, clutching her stomach as she struggled to breathe. Her wings trembled from the force of it, and she even had to press a hand against the golden gate for balance.

“Oh, oh my gosh,” Emily wheezed, barely able to form words. “My job may be to spread joy, but it’s been a while since someone went out of their way to actually make me laugh.” She wiped at her eyes, still grinning as she straightened up, breathless. “Seriously. That was good. Alright Vanir, enough laughs, what’s the power?”

Vanir, completely unfazed, simply sighed. “I’m not joking.”

Emily’s smile faltered slightly. “Wait what?”

“I can actually see the future,” he said in a ridiculously calm tone.

Emily narrowed her eyes at him, her amusement slowly morphing into skepticism. “You don’t actually expect anyone to believe that, do you?” She crossed her arms. “If that’s really true, then prove it. What am I going to do five minutes from now?”

Vanir let out a deep sigh, shaking his head. “That’s not how my future vision works.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Any schmuck who can read the stars or owns a deck of tarot cards can catch glimpses of one future. I don’t just see bits and pieces, I see all of every possible future.”

Emily blinked, her arms still crossed. “…Okay, sure. And the best way for you to prove this would be…?”

Vanir smirked. “Simple. Give me a decision you’re struggling with. Something you genuinely don’t know the answer to.” He gestured vaguely, his rings catching the light. “I’ll tell you what happens depending on the choice you make.”

Emily tapped a finger against her chin, pretending to think deeply before shrugging. “Well, I am kinda hungry. Maybe you can use your all-seeing, cosmic fortune-telling powers to get me a snack I like?”

Vanir clapped his hands together. “Perfect! That works—”

Then he paused.

A small furrow formed between his eyebrows as he widened his eyes, attempting to summon his power. Nothing happened. He frowned, concentrating harder. Still nothing.

His eyes flicked down to the golden anklet fastened snugly around his ankle. Slowly, he looked up at Sera.

“…Yeah, so, problem,” he said, gesturing vaguely at himself. “I can’t use my powers if this thing is blocking them off.”

Sera’s expression remained cool and unbothered. “Then you better find a solution fast.”

Vanir blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You are not allowed to take that anklet off under any circumstances,” she continued, crossing her arms. “It’s the only way we can guarantee you won’t hurt anyone. If you can’t perform your duties with it on…” Her gaze sharpened. “Maybe we should cancel this whole thing.”

Vanir’s entire body tensed. “Whoa, okay, let’s not get hasty,” he blurted, his usual confidence suddenly cracking. “That won’t be necessary! I’ll, uhhh, figure something out.” He waved his hands as if physically swatting the idea away. “Just work with me here, alright?”

Sera didn’t look impressed, and honestly Emily couldn’t blame her. This was a sad sight to witness. Why did Sera call her just for this?

Vanir sighed, examining his leg before gesturing at the Head Seraphim. “How does this thing work, anyway? You can at least answer that, right?”

Sera narrowed her eyes but relented with a small sigh. “It uses a combination of angelic steel and my magic to cut you off from the source of power, your sin.”

Vanir clicked his tongue, placing a hand on his chest dramatically. “I feel like you’re saying it that way just to hurt me.”

Sera said nothing, but Emily noticed the slight smile on her face. She was clearly enjoying his floundering far more than she let on.

“Alright, fine,” Vanir muttered, already thinking. “So if I can’t host my own power, I just need a conduit to push it through. Something outside myself…” His face lit up. “Like a crystal ball!”

Emily rolled her eyes. With a small flick of her wrist, a smooth, gleaming crystal ball materialized in her palm. “Here,” she muttered, tossing it toward him.

Vanir caught it with surprising grace, turning it over in his hands before smirking. “See? Now we’re getting somewhere.”

He held the ball up, locking eyes with Emily as he focused. A low hum resonated from the crystal, and within seconds, it started glowing a teal blue. Emily couldn’t fully understand what was happening but it seemed to be showing various images of her eating different desserts, almost as if someone made a PowerPoint presentation of every time she ever munched on a treat.

After a few moments, Vanir cracked one eye open, then turned to Sera. “Hey, be a dear and grab Emily some blueberry muffins, would you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Blueberry muffins,” Vanir repeated, looking almost bored. “Personally, I think they’re gross, but hey, I don’t judge.” He tossed the ball casually into the air, catching it again with a knowing smirk. “That’s exactly what she’s craving right now.”

Emily froze.

Because yeah, now that she thought about it, that was exactly what she wanted. He knew before she even realized it.

Emily felt a rush of warmth flood her cheeks, the telltale glow of gold spreading across her face. She quickly looked away, crossing her arms. “Y-You just got a lucky guess.”

Vanir’s smirk widened. “Maybe.” He let the crystal ball roll effortlessly between his hands before stopping it with his fingertips. “But then how would I know that your favorite bakery is Blissful Bites?”

Emily’s wings twitched as she stared at him, her golden blush deepening. “That doesn’t prove anything!”

Vanir chuckled, his tail feathers flicking behind him as he tilted his head in mock curiosity. “Sure, sure. Just a really well-educated guess, huh?” He tapped his chin. “Though, I don’t get why that’d be your favorite place. Can’t you just conjure up food like you did with this?” He tossed the crystal ball lightly into the air before catching it again.

Emily huffed, still flustered. “It’s not the same!”

Vanir lifted an eyebrow. “How?”

“Because it just isn’t!”

Sera pinched the bridge of her nose. “Emily likes the experience,” she answered, clearly tired of the back-and-forth. “She enjoys going to the bakery, picking out what she wants, and eating something made with real care instead of just magically conjuring it.”

Vanir considered that for a moment, tapping his fingers against the crystal. “Huh.” His expression turned thoughtful. “So it’s not about the food itself. It’s about the sentiment behind it.”

Emily blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in his tone. “Uh… yeah, pretty much.”

Vanir hummed, rolling the crystal ball once more before giving a small, almost knowing smile. “Interesting.”

Emily narrowed her eyes. “Why do you sound like you’re about to psychoanalyze me?”

Vanir placed a hand on his chest, feigning offense. “I would never.”

Emily turned sharply to Sera, her wings twitching with frustration. “There’s no way you’re actually considering this.” She gestured toward Vanir with both hands. “He’s a demon, Sera! Not even a human soul that fell to sin, he is the sin that corrupts them in the first place! If anyone’s a lost cause, it’s him!”

She turned back toward Vanir, expecting to see that same smug grin, but he wasn’t smiling.

His expression had shifted, just slightly, but enough to give her pause. The sharp confidence in his gaze had dulled, his lips pressed together in something resembling a scowl. It was a fleeting look, one she barely had time to register before he schooled his features into something more neutral.

But she had seen it.

Not that it changed anything. It was true, wasn’t it? Hell is forever. That’s what every piece of scripture said. He had to know that as well as she did. He was probably just making that face as some kind of ploy for pity.

Well, it wasn’t going to work on her.

Before she could say anything else, Sera reached out and gently took her hands. “Emily.”

Emily hesitated but turned to face her, the steady warmth of Sera’s touch grounding her.

Sera’s eyes were calm, firm. “This is the first time anything like this has ever happened,” she said. “A demon actually wanting to try to repent. To improve. To make up for his past mistakes.” Her grip tightened slightly. “Isn’t it our responsibility, as the keepers of Heaven, to guide him?”

Emily swallowed, uncertainty creeping in. It was their duty to help lost souls. To lead them to goodness. To save them from damnation.

But a demon?

She bit the inside of her cheek, still unconvinced.

Sera sighed. “It’s only for a trial period. His powers are pretty much completely stripped. He’s going to need to hit a quota on the amount of good he spreads in Heaven with his abilities, and if he so much as causes a single genuine issue, he’s gone.”

Emily frowned. “And who’s going to make sure of that?”

Sera’s expression turned almost too casual, which immediately made Emily suspicious.

“Well…” Sera started, drawing the word out.

Emily narrowed her eyes. “Sera.”

“I was hoping you could do it.”

Emily’s mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”

Sera pressed forward before she could argue. “Your position is to help souls adjust to Heaven.” She gestured lightly toward Vanir. “And he is technically in need of guidance. He’s new to Heaven. That falls under your jurisdiction.”

Emily shook her head rapidly. “That’s not the same thing!”

“It’s your call,” Sera continued, undeterred. “You can monitor him, or we can drop this whole thing.”

Emily opened her mouth to protest, but no immediate words came out. She looked from Sera to Vanir who, for once, wasn’t making some sarcastic quip or dramatic gesture. He was just standing there, waiting, watching her.

Emily shut her mouth, pressing her lips into a thin line as she mulled it over.

This was insane. Absolutely insane.

Guiding souls into Heaven was one thing. Those were people who had earned their way here. They’d passed their trials, resisted sin, and lived good lives. Even the ones who were confused or hesitant upon arrival, they belonged.

Vanir did not.

He was a demon, an embodiment of corruption, the very thing they were supposed to protect Heaven from. Even with the anklet, even with all these supposed restrictions, how could they trust him?

Emily turned toward Sera again, grasping for a rational escape. “You can’t be serious,” she muttered. “There’s no way this falls under my jurisdiction.”

Sera simply tilted her head. “So you’re saying he doesn’t need guidance?”

Emily scowled. “You know that's not what I—”

“Because if he does, and we’re allowing him to stay for a trial period, then someone has to do it.” Sera’s eyes met hers, unwavering. “And you’re the best choice.”

Emily almost argued. Almost pointed out that Vanir wasn’t even dead. That he wasn’t a lost soul, but a whole, fully formed demon who had no business being here in the first place.

But she hesitated.

Because deep down, she knew what Sera was doing. She was pushing her, forcing her to actually think about it, rather than just reacting on instinct.

And the worst part?

It was kind of working.

Emily let out a long breath, rubbing her head. “You’re actually making me consider this,” she muttered, half in disbelief, half in irritation.

Sera gave a small smile. “That’s my job.”

Emily groaned, looking over at Vanir, who was watching the exchange with a curious expression. She studied him again, searching for some obvious sign that he was playing them.

That this was some elaborate ploy.

But all she saw was patience.

Not smugness. Not amusement.

Just patience.

Her fingers curled into fists. This was wrong. It felt wrong. He wasn’t supposed to be here.

And yet…

Emily’s shoulders sagged as the weight of the decision pressed down on her.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but fine.” She shot Sera a glare. “I’ll watch him.”

Sera’s expression didn’t change, but there was something satisfying in the way she nodded. She almost looked… proud of her?

Vanir, however, smiled widely as he stepped closer to her. “Oh, fantastic! I promise, you won’t regret this.”

“Oh, I absolutely will Vanity,” Emily shot back, pointing a firm finger at him. “Because you won’t change. And when you screw up, and you will, I get to be the first to say ’I told you so’ before you’re booted right back where you belong.”

Vanir placed a hand over his heart. “Harsh, but fair.”

Emily exhaled through her teeth before turning back to Sera. “So what now? Do I… get a handbook for how to babysit a Deadly Sin?”

Sera let out a slight hum before nodding her head. “Actually yes.”

“You have got to be joking.”

“It has all the information about his anklet and the details about the quotas he needs to meet. I’ll also be checking in periodically to make sure everything is going smoothly.”

Vanir wiggled his fingers as he looked at Emily with an enthusiastic expression on his face. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll be so well-behaved. You’ll barely even notice I’m here.”

Emily gave him a flat look. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

What did she even agree to? Is Heaven really about to let a Deadly Sin into its gates?

Not a fallen soul. Not someone who had struggled and repented and been saved. No, Vanir was a creature of temptation itself, a force of nature designed to twist and corrupt. He was everything she and the other angels had spent eons protecting Heaven from.

Her mind thought back to earlier, the small cherub girl with golden curls, eyes wide with wonder as she listened to the story. The way the children had clung to every word, believing without question that Heaven was safe, that evil was something far, far away.

Would they have to start living in fear now?

Would that little girl have to second-guess looking out her window, just because there was the off chance this smug prick was actually being genuine?

It was ridiculous.

And yet, here she was. Watching as Sera, who should have known better, turned to Vanir and said the words that made Emily’s stomach twist.

“For the time being, you are temporarily welcome in Heaven.”

Emily watched helplessly as a wide smile spread across Vanir’s face.

“Perfect.”

Chapter Text

The golden gates of Heaven shut behind them with a quiet, resounding hum as Emily led Vanir into the Promenade. The main avenue of Heaven stretched ahead, gleaming with pristine pathways, glorious gardens, and shiny spires that reached toward the endless sky. Various types of angels meandered along the roads, their faces alight with peace and joy.

And in the middle of it all, Emily was circling Vanir like a vulture, dramatically examining him from every possible angle. She bent low to scrutinize the hem of his coat, then spun to his other side to inspect his tail feathers. She even leaned up on her toes to peer suspiciously at his horns, as if hoping some part of his body would give the answers she’s searching for.

Vanir let out a long and exasperated sigh. “Could you maybe back up a bit?”

Emily immediately leaned in closer, her eyes narrowing as she got right up into his space. “Why? What’s the issue? What exactly are you after here, Vanity? Chaos and destruction? Riches and glory? Worming your way into the hearts of angels with your flawless bone structure and annoyingly well-styled hair?”

Vanir, without a single word, grabbed her by the shoulders, lifted her like she weighed nothing, and moved her a full two feet back before setting her down again.

“Just some personal space,” he said simply.

Emily crossed her arms, her expression settling into one of exaggerated seriousness. “Very well,” she declared, nodding as if she were granting him some great mercy. “I shall accept your request for now.”

Vanir raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.

“But know this, Vanity.”

"It’s Vanir."

Emily ignored him and pointed two fingers at her own eyes, then snapped them toward him in a sharp gesture. “I’ve got my eyes on you.”

As she spoke, the glowing, pale halo floating above her head shimmered, the smooth light bending and shifting as an eye blinked open at its center, its cool-toned iris locking onto him with unsettling intensity.

Then, with a ripple of soft, ethereal light, another eye opened on the center of her chest, its pupil narrowing as it fixated on him. Then two more blinked into existence along the hem of her flowing dress. Then four. Then six.

Before long, at least a dozen pale, spectral eyes had opened across her body, all watching, all unblinking, their soft lavender-blue glow casting a quiet radiance around her.

She spread her arms, her snowy wings flaring as she repeated, “All of them.”

Vanir’s eyes suddenly lit up like a child discovering a new favorite toy.

“That is so cool!” he exclaimed, his voice brimming with genuine enthusiasm. “You really are a Seraphim, huh?”

Emily blinked, momentarily thrown off. That was the last thing she expected him to say. “…Did Sera tell you what kind of angel I was?”

“Nope!” Vanir said cheerfully, stepping even closer as his gaze roamed over the glowing eyes with deep fascination. “I’ve just always been into angels. I mean, come on, beings made of pure light, capable of no wrongdoing, divinely perfect in every way? How could you not be interested?”

Emily felt a strange warmth creep up her neck. She wasn’t used to demons, or anyone, talking about angels like that. At least, not in a way that didn’t sound forced or overly arrogant. It was almost… flattering.

She glanced away, rubbing the back of her neck. “Oh, uh… thanks!”

Then her brain caught up with who she was talking to.

Her expression immediately hardened, and she jabbed an accusatory finger in his direction. “Wait a second! No, I see what you’re doing.”

She narrowed her eyes, the ones on her dress mirroring the motion. “You’re just scanning for weaknesses, aren’t you? Trying to get in my good graces so I let my guard down? Well, nice try, Vanity! Your flimsy cover story won’t work on me!”

She thrust her hand forward, her palm glowing faintly with divine energy. “Stand back, or thou shalt be blasted by mine hand!”

Vanir immediately threw his hands up and took a big step back. “Alright, alright! I’m backing up!”

Then, after a brief pause, his eyes darted between her glowing hand and her completely impassive face. His eyebrows furrowed slightly. “…You wouldn’t have actually blasted me, right?”

Emily remained completely silent.

“Emily?”

…

“Emily?”

“And this is the Promenade!” Emily announced grandly, spreading her arms as she looked at him with a wide smile. “A cornerstone of Heaven and the perfect place to start our tour!”

Vanir squinted at her. “See I’m noticing you specifically avoided my question back there and—”

Emily cut him off by clearing her throat before teleporting in the babysitting book Sera had given her earlier.

“According to the official guidelines laid out for your stay,” she read in an exaggeratedly formal tone, “that fancy little anklet you’ve got on limits you from going anywhere outside of the Promenade.”

She shut the book with a snap and smiled sweetly. “So, for the time being? This is where you’re staying.”

Vanir groaned dramatically, dragging a hand down his face. “Well that sucks. Who knows how many places in Heaven I’ll never get to see now?”

Emily’s expression turned dreamy as she pressed her hands together. “Oh, so many great places.”

Vanir arched an eyebrow, still suspicious but undeniably curious. “…Like?”

Emily tapped her chin, as if sorting through a long list of possibilities. “Just off the top of my head, there’s Celestine Falls. It’s this massive, cascading waterfall made entirely of liquid light. It shifts colors depending on the time of day, and when the water hits the rocks, it makes the most beautiful melody in all of existence.”

Vanir’s ears twitched slightly, his tail feathers flicking behind him. “…Huh, that actually sounds quite nice” He sounded almost reluctant to admit it.

“And then there’s Halo Raceway,” Emily said swiftly as her voice took on a more excited tone. “It’s this massive track where angels race in celestial chariots made of pure light. We’re talking high-speed, tight-corner races, ones that need crazy skill to win. The entire track is suspended over a sea of clouds, and when the chariots race past, they leave behind these glowing streaks in the air.”

She tilted her head at him, her bright blue eyes twinkling with delight. “I bet you would’ve loved that one.”

Vanir perked up slightly at that, wings shifting with interest. “Okay, now that sounds—” He stopped himself, quickly clearing his throat. “I mean, not that I care, but yeah, fine, that does sound mildly interesting.”

“But the best part? Sanctuary Grove. A massive garden filled with all kinds of rare and mythical creatures. Gorgeous flowers that bloom in colors you’ve never seen before, trees so tall they practically touch the sky, and, wait for it… unicorns.”

Vanir, who had been nodding along with a thoughtful expression, suddenly stopped.

“…Wait.” He said slowly as he narrowed his eyes at her. “Like, actual unicorns?”

Emily beamed. “Oh yeah, classic storybook-perfect unicorns. Pure white with shimmering manes and magic healing powers. They are skittish around liars though, so you’re probably going to have quite a bit of trouble getting close to them.”

Vanir scoffed, ignoring the jab. “No way. No way you have actual unicorns just prancing around in a field somewhere.”

Emily shrugged. “You’ll just have to take my word for it. Not that it matters.” She sighed dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. “Since, you know, you can’t leave the Promenade.”

Vanir opened his mouth to argue, then abruptly stopped. His eyes narrowed further, his wings tensing as the realization finally hit him.

“…Oh, you sneaky little minx!” He pointed an accusatory finger at her. “You’re doing this on purpose!”

Emily gave him the most sickeningly sweet smile imaginable. “Whatever do you mean?”

Vanir groaned loudly, dragging a hand down his face. “You were listing all the cool places I can’t go just to make me jealous!”

Emily clasped her hands together innocently. “I would never.”

Vanir scowled, but there was no real anger in it, just exasperation. He muttered something under his breath before sighing heavily. “Oh fuck you, Emily.”

Emily turned to him, a cheerful smile brightening her face. “Welcome to Heaven!” she said sweetly, skipping along the golden path ahead.

Vanir groaned, running a hand through his emerald curls. “Gee thanks, I’m sure I’m going to have a wonderful time being stuck in this cookie cutter town square.”

A dramatic, scandalized sound escaped Emily as she let out a horrified gasp. She stumbled backward, her hand grasping at her chest like he had personally offended her entire existence. She could handle teasing Vanir, loved teasing him in all honesty, but no one insulted Heaven on her watch.

“The Promenade is amazing,” she declared, wings fluffing up slightly.

Vanir gave her an unimpressed look. “How so?”

Emily huffed, planting her hands on her hips. “It’s like the perfect little town! All the nicest people gather and stay here since it’s so close to the gates. It lets them greet any new residents right away!”

Vanir lifted an eyebrow. “Like me?”

Emily’s expression faltered for just a second before she waved a dismissive hand. “Ehh, you’re more like a visitor, since your little stay here is temporary and all, but sure. There’s no reason why they wouldn’t be nice to you!”

Vanir rolled his eyes at her, clearly amused at what she just said.

But Emily was already shifting gears, her face lighting up with a fresh idea. “Ooh! This is perfect!” She clapped her hands together excitedly. “Since your tour is so much shorter than normal, we can use this time to find you a new group of friends!”

Vanir threw his head back and laughed, his sharp, fox-like grin widening as he crossed his arms. “Oh, Emily, I love the sentiment, really, but that is going to be the biggest waste of time in Heaven’s history.”

Emily tilted her head, unimpressed. “Oh? And why’s that?”

Vanir spread his arms, gesturing to himself. “Because I’m a demon. Angels aren’t exactly fond of folks like me.”

Emily let out an even louder gasp, clutching at her chest like he had just stabbed her. “Maybe you shouldn’t be so racist!” she exclaimed, her wings flaring in outrage.

“...What?”

She pointed at him, eyes gleaming with righteous fury. “You’re making assumptions! You think all angels are the same, that we’re some stuck-up, holier-than-thou monolith that hate demons just because they’re demons! Heaven and its society are literally built on forgiveness. Of course we’re going to be nice to you.”

Vanir’s tail flicked behind him, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Oh yeah? Even if I’m a creature created in the darkest depths of Hell, solely to spread pain and misery wherever I go?”

“Yes.” Emily narrowed her eyes, her halo glowing faintly as she continued. “That’s the difference between us and Hell, we give people a chance.”

For a moment, Vanir just stared at her, as if expecting her to backpedal. When she didn’t, he let out a small sigh and shook his head.

Emily clapped her hands together, breaking the moment before it could settle into something too serious. “Alright! Enough doom and gloom! Let’s go make you some besties!”

“This is going to be awful.”

Emily, undeterred by Vanir’s dramatic groaning, looped her arm through his and started pulling him along with determined enthusiasm.

“C’mon, I know exactly who to introduce you to first,” she said cheerfully. “Daniel! He’s the absolute best. Runs a café here in the Promenade called Manna Brew. It’s my go-to spot.”

Vanir let himself be dragged along, more amused than anything. “Lemme guess. He’s an angel, he’s super nice, and he gets along with everyone?”

“Yep!” Emily beamed. “Daniel’s the kind of guy who makes friends everywhere. He knows everything that’s going on with everyone. No gossip, just good ol’ community knowledge.” She tapped the top of her head knowingly. “You wanna get in good with Heaven’s social scene? He’s your guy.”

Vanir hummed thoughtfully. “And you think he’ll get along with me?”

Emily flashed him a grin. “Daniel gets along with everyone. Even you.”

She led him toward a cozy little café nestled at the heart of the Promenade, its exterior adorned with climbing vines and softly glowing lanterns. The scent of fresh pastries and perfectly brewed coffee filled the air, welcoming and warm.

Inside, a tall, golden-haired angel stood behind the counter, casually chatting with a group of souls while expertly pulling espresso shots. His wavy, shoulder-length hair was tucked back in a loose half-ponytail, and his bright blue eyes practically radiated kindness. He looked up as Emily entered, immediately smiling.

“Emily! Right on time,” Daniel greeted, wiping his hands on a towel. “You here for your usual?”

“Maybe in a bit,” Emily said, nudging Vanir forward. “First, I wanted to introduce you to someone!”

Vanir, ever the charmer, gave a smooth, effortless smile. “Vanir. Pleasure to meet you, Daniel.”

Daniel looked him over, before nodding his head slightly in approval. “Well, I’ll be. You’ve got a good look going for you,” he noted, taking in the sharp tailoring, the dramatic colors, the immaculate presentation. “Most people go for the ’ethereal glow’ aesthetic, but you? You’ve got a real presence.”

Vanir grinned, pleased. “What can I say? I like to make an impression.”

The two fell into an easy rhythm, Daniel, ever the social butterfly, asked Vanir all the right questions, and Vanir, the embodiment of charisma itself, answered them with a casual, practiced charm.

Emily watched with satisfaction as they hit it off immediately. See? This was exactly what she was talking about. Angels were welcoming! Kind! Willing to give others a chance!

It was all going so well.

Until Daniel casually asked, “So, what brings you to Heaven, anyway?”

And Emily, without thinking, said, “Oh! Sera’s letting him stay here for a trial period.”

Daniel smiled. “Ah, a soul still adjusting?”

“Not exactly,” Emily admitted. “He’s—”

“A demon,” Vanir finished smoothly.

The atmosphere in the café shifted immediately.

Daniel froze. His once easy smile faltered, his forehead scrunching up in confusion. “I’m sorry, a what?!”

“A demon,” he repeated, as if he were simply announcing his favorite color.

Daniel took a full step back, his wings tensing. His gaze snapped to Emily, disbelief plain on his face. “Emily.” His voice was quieter now, his tone cautious. “Why is there a demon in my café?”

Emily straightened her shoulders, trying to keep her tone even. “It was Sera’s orders,” she explained. “She wants him to get adjusted, and, well, you know how the café is one of the stops in my tour. So I figured—”

“You figured you’d bring a demon here?” Daniel cut in, voice pitching slightly.

Emily winced. “I mean… yeah?”

Daniel took a deep breath, visibly trying to process. “Okay. Alright. Maybe he’s just one of the humans that ended up in Hell, and Sera rescued him.” He nodded to himself, as if trying to convince his own nerves. “That’s what he is, right? A human soul that got redeemed?”

Emily hesitated. “Uh…”

Daniel’s expression froze.

Emily sighed, shaking her head. “No. He’s, um… an actual demon. Born in Hell. One of the Deadly Sins, actually.”

Daniel gasped so hard it could have sucked the air out of the entire room.

“Emily,” he choked. “Emily, how could you be this stupid?!” His hands went to his head, fingers threading through his golden curls as he paced in short, frantic steps. “You know what happens if you even touch a demon like him, right?! Doomed! You’re doomed! An eternity in the other place! Just for associating with him!”

Vanir let out an unimpressed sigh. “Yeah, that’s not how any of that works.”

Daniel immediately whirled on him, pointing an accusing finger. “See?! He’s already trying to trick us with his disgusting demon ways!”

Emily groaned. “Daniel, come on—”

“Nope! Nope!” Daniel’s wings flared out, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced with uncharacteristic alarm. “That’s it! Until you figure out whatever the heck this is, both of you are BANNED!”

Emily’s jaw dropped. “What?! You can’t just—”

“I can and I am!” Daniel declared, dramatically waving them both toward the door. “Out! I’m not risking my café getting cursed!”

Emily let out a strangled noise of protest as she was promptly ushered toward the exit, Vanir trailing behind with an amused smirk.

“Well,” Vanir said, far too entertained. “That went well.”

Emily didn’t say anything.

She just walked a few feet away from the café and plopped onto a nearby bench, slumping forward with her elbows on her knees. Her wings drooped slightly, and the usual brightness in her expression was gone as she stared at the cloudy ground beneath her.

She had known this would be difficult. Of course it would be. But Daniel? She hadn’t expected that reaction from him.

Daniel, who was usually so welcoming. Daniel, who was friends with everyone.

Vanir, still standing, let out a small sigh before dropping down onto the bench beside her. He rested an arm against the back of it, his peacock-like tail feathers shifting slightly as he glanced at her with a clearly sympathetic expression on his face.

“Hey, cheer up. I’m not even counting that as a point against you.”

Emily barely flicked her eyes toward him.

“I mean it’s pretty obvious most angels wouldn’t take it well if they found out I’m a demon,” Vanir said, stretching his legs out. “But even I think that was a bit much.”

He drummed his fingers against the wood. “So maybe Daniel’s a lost cause. No big deal. We’ll just try again with someone else… You do have other friends, right?”

Emily sighed, pressing her palms against her lap. “Of course I do.”

Vanir tilted his head, clearly waiting for her to elaborate.

“I have tons of friends,” she said, a little firmer this time. “I’m sure one of them would love you.”

Her words were meant to be reassuring, but her tone lacked its usual warmth. She knew this wasn’t about her being accepted, it was about him. But that didn’t make the sting of rejection feel any less sharp.

She exhaled slowly, her wings giving a slight twitch. “I’m just sad you had to ruin a perfectly good friendship just by existing. You really are a Deadly Sin, huh?” she muttered, forcing out a humorless chuckle.

Vanir turned away, his usual sharp expression dulling into something far more subdued. His fingers drummed against the bench before stilling.

“I am trying to improve,” he said, quietly.

Emily felt a twinge of guilt press against her chest.

For a brief moment, she considered taking it back.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she sighed and pushed herself up from the bench, dusting off the front of her dress. “Come on.”

Vanir blinked. “What?”

She extended a hand toward him. “I have a job to do.”

Vanir studied her for a long moment, searching her expression for something. Then, with a small, almost resigned chuckle, he took her hand and let her pull him to his feet.

Emily squared her shoulders, trying to shake off the weight of Daniel’s reaction. It was fine. It was fine. This was just a minor setback. Nothing more.

“Maybe that last one went poorly,” she admitted, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “But this one will go great.”

Vanir gave her a sideways glance, clearly skeptical. “That’s some strong confidence after getting banned from a café.”

Emily huffed, grabbing his wrist and tugging him forward. “Come on.”

She led him deeper into the Promenade, weaving past the golden-lined streets and glowing storefronts until they reached a small flower shop tucked between two marble pillars. Its sign, painted with delicate calligraphy, read Eden’s Bloom. Inside, pastel-colored flowers spilled from neatly arranged pots, their petals shifting with a faint, celestial glow. The scent of lilies and honeysuckle filled the air, the whole shop exuding an air of gentle peace.

Emily stepped inside, the soft chime of a bell ringing above them. “Lily!” she called out cheerfully.

A petite angel peeked out from behind a display of orchids. Her soft brown curls framed a delicate face, her pale blue eyes lighting up the moment she saw Emily. “Oh! Emily, hi!” She wiped her hands on her apron and stepped forward, wings giving a happy flutter. “I wasn’t expecting you today! Are you here for more roses?”

Emily shook her head, beaming. “Not this time. I actually wanted to introduce you to someone!”

Lily followed her gesture toward Vanir, who offered a lazy, charming smile. “Vanir,” he said smoothly. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Lily blinked at him, tilting her head. “Oh! Wow, you have really nice hair,” she said with quiet admiration. “And your horns are so unique!”

Vanir preened slightly, clearly pleased. “What can I say? I put effort into presentation.”

Emily grinned, relief washing over her. See? This was going much better already.

“So! Are you new here?”

Vanir opened his mouth, but Emily cut in first. “He’s, uh, staying here for a trial period!”

Lily tilted her head, intrigued. “Oh? So he’s a human soul adjusting?”

Vanir casually leaned against the counter. “Not exactly.”

Emily winced.

Vanir grinned. “I’m actually a demon.”

Lily’s wings tensed, and the smile flickered at the edges as her eyes darted between him and Emily. “Oh… oh.” Her voice suddenly sounded much smaller. “Like… like a real one? From Hell?”

Vanir nodded, still perfectly relaxed. “Guilty as charged.”

Lily’s hands wrung together, her expression shifting rapidly between confusion and barely contained fear. She took a small step back. Then another.

Emily stepped forward quickly. “Lily, it’s okay! Sera is the one letting him stay! He’s got restrictions, and he’s literally not allowed to do anything bad—”

Lily let out a nervous, airy laugh. “Oh! No, no, I totally get it! That’s, um… that’s great! Really! Hahaha! Wow. A real demon, haha. In Heaven. What, did Hell freeze over or something?”

Emily’s stomach sank as Lily continued laughing, the sound high-pitched and strained. She took another step back, her hands gripping the edge of the counter like she was physically stopping herself from fleeing.

Then, still smiling that wide, nervous smile, she reached behind her and hastily grabbed a small, wrapped bouquet. “Here!” she squeaked, shoving it into Emily’s hands. “On the house! You should, um… go! Before you get too busy, you know? Super busy schedule, I bet! Haha!”

Emily’s grip tightened around the bouquet, the familiar feeling of rejection sinking in.

“Yep. I see where this is going.”

Emily tried, one last time, to fix it. “Lily—”

“It was really nice seeing you, Emily!” Lily said quickly, her voice just a bit too loud. “Have a great rest of your day, okay?! I-I have to, um, water the chrysanthemums!”

And then, just like that, she disappeared behind a curtain into the back of the shop.

Emily stood there for a moment, staring at the empty space where Lily had been.

Then, with a defeated sigh, she turned on her heel, clutching the bouquet as she marched back out onto the street. Vanir followed without a word.

They walked in silence for a few steps before he finally said, “You know what? I like her.”

Emily stopped mid-step, turning to glare at him. “Seriously?”

Vanir shrugged. “What? She gave you flowers and politely told us to get lost. That’s more than we got from the café guy.” He gave a thoughtful hum, tucking his hands into his pockets. “And hey, she didn’t even ban us. That’s progress.”

Emily scowled, gripping the bouquet a little tighter. “That wasn’t progress, that was pity!”

Vanir tilted his head, unconcerned. “Still counts.”

Emily exhaled sharply and kept walking. She didn’t know why this was getting to her so much. It shouldn’t be surprising. Angels feared demons. That was just how things were. She’d grown up knowing it, trained her whole life to combat it. But now that she was on the other side, actively trying to integrate a demon into Heaven’s society, the rejection stung in a way she hadn’t expected.

Lily had been scared of her. Not just Vanir, her, by association.

Emily pressed her lips together. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to go,” she muttered under her breath.

Vanir stretched his arms over his head. “Oh? And how was it supposed to go exactly?”

Emily shot him a glare. “You were supposed to prove me right. I told you Heaven was built on forgiveness,” she continued, frustration creeping into her voice. “I told you that angels would be accepting. That they’d give you a chance.”

She gestured vaguely behind them. “And so far? Two of my closest friends have either banned me or acted like I just personally invited the end times into their shop.”

Vanir hummed, rubbing his chin as if mulling over her words. “So, what I’m hearing is, you don’t actually care if I fit in or not, you just don’t want to be wrong.”

Emily groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “That’s not what I’m saying!” She let out a sharp breath, shaking her head. “You are supposed to fit in. Because I’m right. If they just gave you a chance, they’d see that.”

Vanir studied her for a long moment, his usual sharp wit quieted by something more thoughtful. “...And what if they don’t?”

Emily’s jaw clenched.

That wasn’t an option.

She had to be right.

She shook her head and straightened, shifting the bouquet to her side. “We’re trying again.”

Vanir lifted an eyebrow. “Oh? You still have hope after two catastrophic failures?”

Emily lifted her chin, determination flaring back to life. “I always have hope.”

Vanir smirked. “Admirable. Stupid, but admirable.”

Emily ignored him and scanned the street, thinking. Who’s next? Someone open-minded. Someone kind. Someone who wouldn’t immediately start praying the moment Vanir said the D-word.

Then, an idea.

She turned to him with a wide smile. “Alright. Third time’s the charm.”

Vanir’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Oh, this should be good.”

Emily tried. She really tried.

After Lily’s flower shop, she and Vanir made their way through the Promenade, stopping at every place she could think of where someone might be open-minded enough to give him a chance.

The small bookstore where old souls gathered to exchange stories? Disaster. The owner outright refused to even let Vanir cross the threshold after spotting his anklet.

The art studio that welcomed creativity from all realms? The second Vanir walked in, the head artist had shattered the glass she’d been holding and excused herself to “pray about it.”

The Sera-ymphany Orchestra had been even worse. St. Peter’s renowned choir was known for its heavenly harmonies, voices so pure they could bring even the most hardened souls to tears. Emily had hoped, naively, in retrospect, that they of all people would at least try to embody Heaven’s ideals of grace and forgiveness.

Instead, the moment Vanir so much as set foot inside the grand performance hall, the entire choir screamed perfectly in the key of B minor.

And the worst one?

The community garden.

Emily had been so sure about the garden. It was filled with some of the kindest, gentlest souls in Heaven, people who had spent their lives on Earth tending to others, growing food, bringing beauty into the world.

Surely they would welcome someone willing to improve.

But the moment Emily explained who Vanir was to the gardener in charge, she clutched her watering can with trembling hands and whispered, “Why would you bring a creature of suffering into a place of growth?”

That one stuck with Emily.

By the time the sun had dipped into the horizon, painting the sky in hues of gold and rose, Emily was beginning to feel the wear of the day in her bones.

But Vanir?

Vanir looked defeated.

He wasn’t making sarcastic comments anymore. Wasn’t rolling his eyes or laughing at her determination. He just stood there, hands in his pockets, his wings drawn slightly inward like he was trying to make himself smaller.

“…Can we just go home?” His voice wasn’t bitter or annoyed, it was tired.

Emily frowned, trying to make sense of the way he was acting. Why did he look so upset?

This was his fault.

He had to know that, right?

He couldn’t actually blame her friends for being scared of him. He was a demon. He was one of the Deadly Sins. That wasn’t something you just… walked past. It was instinct, it was centuries of teachings, of warnings, of everything Heaven had been built to protect against.

So why did he look like that?

Emily opened her mouth, about to tell him that they weren’t done yet, that they were going to find someone, that he just needed a little more patience.

But for the first time since this whole thing had started, she hesitated.

Something wasn’t working.

Heaven was built on forgiveness. It was built on acceptance. She had believed that with her whole heart, had spent every moment of her existence living by that principle.

So why was this so difficult?

Her grip tightened on the bouquet.

It had to be her approach.

She squared her shoulders. “No.”

Vanir finally glanced at her, his eyes widening with disbelief.

"We’re going to find someone," Emily insisted. "We just need to keep trying. Patience is a virtue after all."

Vanir stared at her for a long moment, then let out a quiet, bitter laugh.

“Right, because time heals all wounds.”

Emily opened her mouth, ready to fire back, ready to insist that this wasn’t over, that they just had to keep trying. If they gave up now, then all of this would have been for nothing... but her phone rang before she got a chance.

Vanir raised an eyebrow. "Popular, huh?"

Emily ignored his jab and pulled the device from her pocket, frowning as she glanced at the caller ID.

Ariadne.

Why was Ariadne calling her right now?

And then it hit her.

“Oh my gosh.”

Vanir lifted an eyebrow. “What?”

Emily didn’t answer, too busy frantically answering the call as she pressed the phone to her ear.

“Ariadne, hi!” she said, forcing her voice into a chipper, totally-not-panicked tone.

“Emily!” Ariadne’s voice came through loud and clear, high with excitement and laughter in the background. “Where are you? You said you’d be here, like, ages ago! We’re going to be cutting the cake soon!”

Emily’s stomach sank further. "Oh my gosh," she repeated, this time in a much more horrified whisper.

She had completely forgotten about Ariadne’s birthday.

The party. The one she had promised that she would be at weeks ago.

Her wings ruffled slightly as she winced. “Ariadne, I am so sorry, I got caught up with work and I lost track of time—"

Ariadne gasped so loudly that even Vanir managed to hear it based on the smile forming on his face. “Emily. Emily. Are you telling me that on my special day, on my birthday, you have denied me your presence? You? The one who literally spreads joy for a living?”

Emily groaned, running a hand down her face. “I’m a terrible friend.”

“Yes,” Ariadne agreed immediately.

Emily let out a long sigh. “Okay, I’m on my way.”

“Good. You better get here before the cake’s gone. No promises, though.”

The call ended, and Emily exhaled through her teeth, gripping her phone tightly.

Then, just as quickly, an idea formed in her mind.

The party.

There would be tons of people there. Friends. Acquaintances. Souls who were already in high spirits, open to celebration, laughter, joy.

A whole crowd of welcoming angels, surely one of them would be willing to give Vanir a chance.

She spun on her heel, immediately grabbing his arm.

“Oh no.”

Emily grinned. “Oh yes.”

“What are you—”

“It’s perfect,” she declared, already tugging him along. “Ariadne’s birthday party! It’s a huge gathering, everyone’s in a great mood, and there’s no way you don’t mesh with at least one person there.”

Vanir dug his heels in slightly, clearly wary. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea”

Emily turned to face him and tightened her grip. “If this fails,” she said firmly, “I promise I’ll stop dragging you around everywhere. This is my last attempt.”

Vanir studied her for a long moment, then let out a slow sigh. “…Fine.”

Emily’s grin widened. “Perfect.”

And without wasting another second, she took off, dragging Vanir toward one last shot at proving Heaven right.

Chapter Text

Emily had been to more parties than she could count. From extravagant celestial galas to casual get-togethers in the Promenade, she had seen it all. But Ariadne’s birthdays? Those were in a league of their own.

The moment she and Vanir arrived, the sheer energy of the celebration proved that this year wasn’t an exception. The mansion-like estate was practically pulsing with light and music. The air was thick with laughter, chatter, and the occasional burst of magic. Angels flew quickly through the space, their wings shimmering under the glow of floating lanterns as they raced each other to wherever they were going. There was even an entire section of the living room that had been transformed into a dance floor where bodies moved in perfect, rhythmic chaos. Everything about it screamed fun, indulgence, and joy. Emily’s bread and butter.

The seraphim barely had time to take in the familiar sight before something slammed into her with the force of a meteor.

“EMILY!”

A blur of iridescent wings and blue curls crashed into her, nearly knocking her off her feet as she was suddenly pulled into a tight hug.

Ariadne.

“You made it!” Ariadne cried, pulling back just enough to grab Emily’s shoulders and give her a dramatic shake. “I was about to send out a rescue mission!”

Emily let out a breathy laugh, regaining her footing. “I know, I know, I’m late, but I have an amazing excuse—”

“You better,” Ariadne huffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder with practiced flair. “Because I was personally offended.”

Beside her, a tall, poised figure leaned in, arms crossed with a knowing smirk. Celeste, Ariadne’s girlfriend, radiated the kind of effortless cool that balanced out Ariadne’s wild energy. “We were both personally offended,” she corrected smoothly.

“Deeply offended,” Ariadne added with a solemn nod.

Emily grinned, shaking her head. “Okay, well, in my defense, I was dealing with—”

She turned to gesture toward Vanir, only to find that he had already stepped forward, his usual smugness toned down into a perfectly pleasant, almost angelic expression.

“Hello, ladies,” he greeted, voice smooth as silk. “Vanir. Brand new human soul, fresh off of, uh… dying?”

Emily’s entire body went rigid.

She whipped her head toward Vanir, eyes wide in shock. Did he seriously just—?

That was a lie. A bald-faced, effortless lie.

Vanir had done a lot of things today. He complained, he swore, he acted snarky to no end, but this? This was something else. He had spent all that time arguing with her, insisting that he wanted to improve, and the second he was in front of new people, he just, what? Fabricated a whole new identity? A human soul, fresh off dying? Was he serious?

Her shock quickly turned into fury as she shot him a glare. What was he doing? What was she doing? She should have known he was up to no good the second they got here. This wasn’t some grand personal trial for him. This was a game. A fun little ruse to see how much he could get away with.

And the worst part? It was working.

Ariadne gasped, eyes going wide as she practically lit up with excitement. “Wait, wait, wait… you died today?”

Vanir let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling his shoulders like the very mention of it carried some invisible weight. “Yeah,” he said, voice deliberately casual, as if he were talking about stubbing his toe rather than allegedly perishing. “That’s probably why I feel a little off. Adjusting to Heaven is… a lot.”

Emily’s fingers twitched at her sides. Oh, you sneaky little minx. That was good. He perfectly covered why he might feel strange to be around, and didn’t even overdo it. He just let the words sit there, heavy with unspoken emotion, like the weight of his totally real and not at all fabricated death was just too much to put into words.

Unbelievable.

Ariadne placed a hand over her heart, nodding sympathetically. “Oh, I get that,” she said. “I was so not used to Heaven when I first got up here.” She shuddered dramatically, as if recalling a harrowing memory. “The first few days were a mess. No idea what to do, didn’t know anybody, everything was just so different.”

She turned to Vanir, giving his arm a reassuring pat. “But don’t worry, you’re in good hands.” She grinned and gestured toward Emily. “This one right here? Absolute lifesaver. She made me feel at home when I thought I’d never fit in. If anyone can help you adjust, it’s her.”

Emily’s jaw clenched so hard she thought she might crack a tooth. She was going to kill him.

Ariadne beamed, completely oblivious to the storm brewing beside her. “Well, come on, newbie!” she said, grabbing Celeste’s hand and motioning for Vanir to follow. “I’ll introduce you to some people! You have to meet the rest of the gang.”

Celeste chuckled, giving a small shake of her head as she let herself be led forward. “You’re about to be surrounded, just a warning,” she added with a smirk. “We’re all very nosy.”

She spun on her heel, Celeste right beside her, the two of them already chatting about who to introduce Vanir to first. Emily didn’t even hear them. The second she saw their attention shift, she grabbed Vanir by the front of his coat and yanked.

Hard.

Vanir let out a sharp hiss of pain as she wrenched him closer, fingers digging into the expensive fabric with more force than necessary. She had specifically pulled him in a way that she knew would hurt, gripping a point right near his shoulder where muscle tension was easy to exploit.

“What the hell is your problem?” Vanir snapped.

Emily’s expression was molten fury. “You lied,” she seethed, her grip tightening for just a second before she let go, shoving his arm away like he disgusted her. “I know lying is basically a demon’s bread and butter, but I actually thought you were trying to improve.”

Vanir exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulder as if shaking off the sting. “I am trying to improve, which is precisely why I’m doing this.”

Emily scoffed. “Oh, please.”

“No, really, please,” Vanir shot back. “Please tell me how I was just supposed to ruin this poor girl’s party because you don’t know when to quit.”

Emily blinked, thrown off for just a second. “Excuse me?”

Vanir leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “Ariadne clearly worked really hard on this,” he said, his tone sharper now, edged with something just shy of anger. “And you wanted me to do what? Just walk in, introduce myself as one of the Deadly Sins, and watch the whole night spiral into absolute chaos? Yeah, fantastic idea. I’m vain. Not cruel.”

Emily opened her mouth, but hesitated.

He wasn’t wrong. Ariadne’s parties were legendary. She poured her heart into every little detail, and tonight was no exception. The air buzzed with excitement, tables were stacked with the best food Heaven had to offer, and music pulsed through the space like a heartbeat.

If Vanir had introduced himself as a demon, would everyone really freak out?

Emily swallowed. “You don’t know that,” she muttered, her grip loosening just slightly.

Vanir let out a humorless chuckle. “Oh, don’t I?” He fixed her with a knowing look. “Tell me, have you heard that stupidly popular saying? The one about insanity?”

Emily frowned, thrown by the sudden shift in topic.

Vanir didn’t wait for an answer. He leaned in, “It’s doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. Were we just gonna keep going down the list? Keep finding more and more of your friends until one of them doesn’t look at me like I am some kind of monster?”

He scoffed. “I hate to break it to you sunshine, but you’re acting crazy and I’m not going to risk ruining this lovely little gathering because of it.”

Emily clenched her jaw.

She hated how easily he was able to twist things back on her. But… was he wrong?

She thought about Daniel, the way his wings had flared in outright panic the moment she said the word demon. She thought about Lily, who had smiled through her fear but still practically shoved them out the door. The bookstore, the art studio, the choir. All of them had reacted with the same overwhelming dread.

Every time, she had believed that the next one would be different. That the next person would be more understanding. That the next person would finally prove her right.

But the next person never came.

Emily swallowed hard, the fight draining from her limbs. “Fine,” she muttered.

“Fine what?”

She exhaled sharply. “Fine, I’ll let it go. Just… Just don’t overdo it.”

Vanir placed a hand over his chest, a clearly insincere symbol of sincerity. “Perish the thought.”

Emily shot him one last glare before turning on her heel, forcing herself to shove down the lingering frustration bubbling beneath her skin.

Before Emily could say another word, a pair of hands suddenly latched onto her wrist.

“You two are lagging!”

Ariadne’s voice rang out as she and Celeste simultaneously grabbed both her and Vanir, yanking them forward with zero warning. Emily stumbled slightly, barely catching herself before she could trip over her own feet.

Vanir, of course, managed to maintain his balance effortlessly, rolling with the motion like he’d been expecting it all along. His expression remained neutral, but Emily could see the hint of amusement flickering behind his emerald eyes.

“Alright, people, listen up!” Ariadne announced as they wove through the party, heading toward a particularly lively corner of the grand hall. “I’ve got someone new for you all to meet!”

The moment she said it, a group of angels already in mid-conversation immediately turned toward them with interest. Though, before Ariadne could even get a single name out, they took matters into their own hands.

“Oh, new blood!” one of them exclaimed, a tall, red haired angel with pink skin and a mischievous glint in his eye. He stepped forward, grinning. “I’m Zeke. Great to meet ya.”

Next to him, a shorter angel with fluffy brown curls and bright yellow skin elbowed him playfully. “You’re always too enthusiastic about new people,” she said with a laugh. She turned to Vanir, her blue eyes warm and welcoming. “I’m Opal! And don’t let Zeke scare you off. He’s harmless.”

“Speak for yourself,” another voice cut in, this one belonging to a lanky angel adjusting the round glasses perched on his nose. He gave Vanir a polite, if somewhat scrutinizing, look. “Ezra,” he introduced himself simply.

The final member of the group, a towering figure with broad shoulders and sharp, sea-green wings, crossed his arms with a good-natured smirk. “Atlas,” he said. “Nice to meet you, man.”

Emily didn’t even need the introductions. She knew all of them. She literally knew everyone in the Promenade by name, especially the socialites. Zeke, Opal, Ezra, and Atlas had been friends of hers for ages.

And now Vanir was being thrown directly into their circle.

To his credit, he adapted instantly. He smiled easily, radiating a charm that looked completely effortless. “Vanir,” he said smoothly, clasping his hands together. “It’s a pleasure.”

Zeke whistled. “Fancy name. You sound like you should be in a drama about some tragic, lovesick poet.”

Vanir grinned. “Well, I do have a certain flair for theatrics.”

Emily resisted the urge to roll her eyes. This was a good group for him to meet, none of them were the type to react with fear or immediate rejection, but still… she didn’t trust Vanir not to push his luck.

Opal tilted her head curiously. “So, Vanir! What’s your story?”

Ezra adjusted his glasses. “Yeah. How’d you end up here?”

And then, as if the universe was actively trying to mess with her, Atlas asked the exact question she had been dreading.

“So,” he said casually, taking a sip of his drink, “how’d you die?”

“Well, I suppose I should start at the beginning. You see, I was an orphan—”

Emily instantly let out the most obnoxious laugh she could imagine before the last word could take root in anyone's mind. She didn’t know it was physically possible for someone to make a story that over the top in just five words, but of course vanity itself would find a way.

“Vanir,” she said, smiling up at him as if sharing a gentle nudge in the right direction, “you don’t need to dramatize every detail. You’re in Heaven! There’s nothing to overcompensate for here.”

She could feel his eyes cutting through her like an exorcist’s spear. The smile on his lips didn’t falter, but the glare beneath it was sharp enough to catch her off guard. It’s not like she enjoyed ruining his story, but she had already let him keep the single lie that mattered most, the one that shielded him from being cast out on sight. Piling on more stories on top of that? Pretending he had trudged through some tragic, orphaned life? That was too much.

Emily turned back to the group, folding her wings closer as she spoke with the steady patience she had practiced countless times in the Promenade. Her words carried like lantern light in the dark.

“We all know you are not an orphan,” she said again, her tone soft but firm. “You do not have to make your childhood tragic to earn anyone’s respect. The actual best way to impress people is by being honest.”

Vanir quickly let out a sigh, though his eyes still carried that pointed sharpness. His mouth curled into a casual smile as he lifted his hands in a soft shrug. It was as if all this fuss were nothing more than a misunderstanding to him.

“Look, is it really such a problem that I wanted to play it up a bit? So that everyone can smile and have a good time?”

The room seemed to quiet for Emily in that moment. She saw the light glancing against his emerald hair and the lanterns swaying gently above them. He carried himself like the center of a stage, every word measured to charm, every motion carved to captivate. And yet, beneath it all, she knew it was false. That it was just a performance.

It was her responsibility to bring him back to reality. He needed to know just how horrible his actions really were. Emily quickly took on a solemn expression before giving Vanir a single, slow nod.

“Unfortunately so.”

The words carried more weight than she intended, but she let them fall all the same. “Lies are flawed at their very core. They unravel the moment truth pulls on a loose thread. How can you possibly build relationships on something that crumbles the instant someone looks closer?”

She folded her hands before her, as her eyes lingered on him with a steady patience. There has to be a better way to communicate this to him.

“Since you’re such a storyteller, maybe you’d like listening to a story for once instead. One that explains why lying is so wrong.”

Emily straightened slightly, as her voice adopted the rhythm she used in classrooms. She’s told this story to gatherings of restless young souls many times in the past.

“There were two people, Ananias and Sapphira. They sold a piece of land, and they told everyone that they were giving the full price to the apostles. But secretly, they kept part of the money for themselves. They lied, not just to their friends, not just to their leaders, but to God themself. They wanted the honor of generosity without the humility of sacrifice.”

Her hand lifted slightly, gesturing as if painting the scene. “Ananias came first with his offering, and Peter looked at him and asked why he had lied. And in that moment the weight of his deceit crushed him, and he fell down dead at their feet. Later Sapphira came with the same lie upon her lips, and she too fell, struck by the truth she denied. Their story spread like a warning through the people: that no lie, no matter how small or convenient, could endure before God.”

Zeke shifted in his seat, one brow arched high as his lips curved into something between a grin and a frown. “Don’t you think that was a little harsh, Em? I mean, yeah, they lied, which absolutely sucks. But dying for it? Isn’t your entire thing that you kill only with kindness?”

Emily blankly stared at the redhead for a moment. Of all the reactions she might have expected, one of her own friends openly questioning her lesson was not on the list. Her wings stilled, and for a moment she simply studied Zeke’s face, trying to catch whether he was messing with her or truly unsettled.

“It’s not my place to judge. I’m just a Seraphim, not Goodness themself.”

The Seraphim’s gaze turned back to the peacock demon. Her expression was steady but touched with the faintest note of pity. “That is what falsehood brings, Vanir. Collapse. Even the strongest story breaks apart when it is built on deception.”

For the first time that evening, his smile dimmed. He was quite good at hiding it, but she could feel his tension. His worry. She didn’t enjoy it, but in all honesty it was a good sign. That meant her lesson was sinking in, burrowing past his arrogance to find that thread of truth inside.

“So,” he began sheepishly, “does that even include the little white lies?”

Emily tilted her head, her wings rustling faintly as she fixed him with a steady gaze. “Are you kidding? They’re the worst of all. It’s like a gateway drug, you know? One small lie leads to another, and soon the line between real and fake disappears entirely. All liars will have their place in the lake of fire. It is better to stay within the clouds.”

Suddenly, Ariadne clapped her hands sharply and stepped forward. blue curls bouncing as she grinned. “Alright, alright! I think Emily’s scared the newbie enough for one night, so let’s chill out with some games instead!”

She reached behind the couch and, with the flourish of someone unveiling a true masterpiece, pulled out a large, pristine box labeled in shimmering golden letters: OLIGOPOLY.

Emily immediately recognized it. Of course she did. Oligopoly was one of Heaven’s most popular board games. A cleaner, friendlier, more enlightened version of Monopoly where everyone won in the end. There were no bankruptcies, no fighting over properties, and no outright financial ruin. Just good, wholesome fun where every player became prosperous by the time the game ended.

Vanir stared at the board like Ariadne had just pulled out a dead rat.

“Seriously?” he asked, staring incredulously. “It’s a house party, and you want to play a board game?”

Ariadne beamed. “Yep!”

Vanir blinked. “No beer pong? No drinking games? No couple in the corner making terrible choices in an extremely public setting?”

Opal snorted. “You need to go to Adam’s parties for that.”

Vanir turned to her, still looking completely thrown. “Adam? You mean like the first man Adam?”

Opal nodded. “That’s the one.”

Emily groaned, rolling her eyes.

Vanir seemed to sense her deep-seated exasperation because he turned to her, eyebrow raised. “That bad?”

Emily let out a slow breath, rubbing at her temple. “Adam is…” She waved a hand vaguely. “A very specific kind of person.”

Ariadne, ever the agent of chaos, grinned. “Beer pong isn’t a bad idea, though. Emily, what do you think? Could you maybe use your powers and…?”

She trailed off expectantly, and all eyes were suddenly on Emily.

“Wait, you’re asking me to conjure up a beer pong table?”

Ariadne gave her the most angelic smile imaginable. “Pretty please?”

Emily crossed her arms, shifting her weight onto one foot as she gave Ariadne a pointed look. “That isn’t a good idea,” she said firmly. “You know, gluttony is a sin.”

Vanir immediately raised an eyebrow, a slow, smug smile creeping onto his face. “Gluttony is excessive indulgence,” he countered, tilting his head slightly. “They just want some light alcohol to feel a buzz. That’s not excessive.”

Emily narrowed her eyes. “You don’t know shit, you just died, remember?”

She noticed it a second too late.

The entire group, minus Vanir, looked at her in varying degrees of surprise.

“…What?” Emily asked, glancing between them.

Ezra adjusted his glasses, still staring. “…Did you just swear?”

Opal blinked. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse before.”

Zeke pointed at her, eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and amusement. “Right? And, like normally, you’re way nicer to new souls. Especially on their first day.”

Shoot.

From their perspective, this was weird. They didn’t know what Vanir was. They didn’t know she had been babysitting an actual demon all day, or that she had been dealing with his absolute nonsense since sunrise.

All they saw was her, acting completely out of character toward someone she was supposed to be guiding.

Emily needed to recover, fast.

She forced a breathy, slightly awkward laugh, running a hand through her hair. “I- uh… sorry. Just a long day.” She shook her head quickly. “You would not believe the stuff I had to deal with before this.”

She waved a hand dismissively before anyone could pry further. “Anyway, beer pong!”

And before anyone could question anything else, she flicked her wrist, and a gorgeously ornate beer pong table materialized before them in a soft flash of white light.

The table was stunning, polished marble with gold inlays, elegantly carved edges, and a shimmering halo-shaped centerpiece glowing softly at its center. The cups were delicately designed with subtle iridescence, and the balls themselves had an almost divine glow.

“…Okay,” Zeke said slowly, eyes wide. “That’s, like, the fanciest beer pong table I have ever seen.”

Opal clapped her hands together. “Emily, what the heck? This is amazing!”

Ariadne practically vibrated with excitement. “Oh my gosh, yes!”

Vanir, arms crossed, simply smirked at her. “Nice save.”

Emily ignored him.

The game started off with energy as electric as the shimmering golden glow of the divine beer pong table. Angels gathered around, eager to play, laughter and excitement buzzing in the air. Ariadne was the first to throw, easily landing a shot into one of the iridescent cups. Zeke groaned in defeat while Opal cheered. Atlas took his turn next, sinking a ball with practiced ease. The party had officially arrived.

Somewhere in the chaos, Opal turned to Vanir. “You gonna play?” she asked, tilting her head curiously.

Vanir hummed, eyeing the setup before shaking his head. “I don’t really drink.”

Emily, who had been casually watching the game unfold, immediately snapped her attention to him. “Are you serious?!”

Vanir turned to face her, looking completely unbothered. “Yeah?”

Emily threw her hands up. “Beer pong was literally your idea, you selfish prick!”

Before Vanir could respond, Ariadne quickly interjected, waving a hand between them. “Hold up, hold up!” she laughed. “It was my idea. He just asked why we were playing a board game instead of doing something like beer pong.”

Emily froze.

Oh.

She immediately reeled herself back in, crossing her arms and pressing her lips together as she looked away. “Right, that’s… fair.”

The group had been watching the exchange with mild amusement, but Opal’s soft voice cut through the noise. “I think Vanir deserves an apology.”

Emily stiffened slightly.

Before she could respond, Vanir shook his head. “That’s really not necessary.”

But Opal, ever the kind one, wasn’t having it. She gave him a small, patient smile. “This isn’t Earth,” she reminded him gently. “Everyone gets treated with respect here.”

For a brief, suspended moment, the weight of the words just hung there.

Opal, bless her heart, was simply standing up for what was right. From her perspective, Vanir was just another newly arrived soul, a human adjusting to Heaven after what was probably a horrific and confusing death. And here Emily was, the one meant to guide him, snapping at him like he was some burden.

She hated this.

But more than that, she hated that Opal wasn’t wrong.

With a slow, steady breath, Emily forced herself to relax. She glanced at Vanir, meeting his unreadable gaze. Then, begrudgingly, she nodded.

“…Sorry.”

Vanir frowned ever so slightly, but his voice was smooth and polite when he replied. “No harm done.”

Opal smiled approvingly, and just like that, the tension melted back into the warm, buzzing energy of the party. Laughter and playful competition filled the space again, conversations overlapping as if nothing had happened at all.

But for Emily, the moment stuck.

She stood there, arms crossed, gaze locked on the beer pong table like it had personally offended her. The game had continued without missing a beat, but in the back of her mind, Opal’s words kept replaying over and over.

Everyone gets treated with respect here.

It was such a simple, obvious sentiment. Of course everyone deserves respect. It wasn’t like she wanted to be a hypocrite. And yet, the way Opal had looked at her, the gentle expectation behind her words, it had made Emily feel like a schoolyard bully.

Which is ridiculous, she told herself, tightening her arms around her chest. She wasn’t some cruel overseer lording over a newbie. She was the Seraphim of Joy! And he was Vanir, the Deadly Sin of Vainglory. Who knows how many people he hurt over the course of millenia?

…But that wasn’t how Opal had seen it. Because she didn’t know who he actually was.

If she did, would she have acted any differently?

Is it fair if the answer is yes?

Emily exhaled sharply, dropping her arms and shifting her weight from foot to foot. This was stupid. She was being stupid. There was no reason for it to be bothering her so much.

And yet, as the game wore on, she found herself growing even more restless as she watched Vanir.

At some point, the group had somehow managed to rope him into playing, though Emily barely registered how it had happened. One second, he had been standing off to the side, wholly uninterested, and the next, he was at the table, a cup in hand. One that contained apple juice instead of beer due to his no alcohol policy.

And to Emily’s absolute horror, he was actually… having fun.

He played it well, too. Tossed the ball with just the right amount of practiced ease, laughed when someone else landed a perfect shot, even smirked when he won a round against Atlas, who groaned dramatically in defeat. He fit in effortlessly. Like he had always been a part of this group.

It felt… wrong.

Emily didn’t like it.

And she didn’t understand why.

“You wanna tell me what your deal is?”

Emily blinked, barely registering the voice before Ariadne suddenly appeared beside her, watching her with an expression of open curiosity.

“What?” Emily asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

Ariadne crossed her arms. “You heard me. Why are you upset? You’ve been acting weird all night.”

Emily exhaled, shaking her head. “I’m not upset.”

Ariadne arched an eyebrow. “You have a very funny way of showing it.”

Emily turned her head slightly, gaze flickering to the game again. Vanir was laughing at something Opal said, shaking his head in amusement. Ezra was lining up another shot. Zeke was still loudly declaring himself the “beer pong champion,” despite losing two rounds already.

Everything looked normal. Fine. Perfectly fine.

Ariadne, however, wasn’t backing down. “Let’s go through the list, shall we? First, you terrified Vanir just because he wasn’t upfront about his past. Then you swore at him, even though he was right about the definition of gluttony. But worst of all, you called him a selfish prick just for not wanting a drink.”

Emily opened her mouth to argue, but nothing came out.

Ariadne just shook her head, watching her closely. “It’s like… he can’t win with you. So I’m gonna ask again, Emily. Why are you so upset?”

“I’m not—”

But the words felt wrong even as she said them.

Why was she upset?

She had been waiting for this, hadn’t she?

She had spent all day trying to get Vanir to fit in. She had pushed for this. Argued for this. This was exactly what she wanted. So why did it feel so much worse than every other failed attempt?

Why had this worked when nothing else had?

And then it hit her.

It was because he lied.

This whole thing, his easy acceptance, his effortless charm, his immediate success at making friends, it was all built on a lie.

And she hated it.

Why did that work?

Why was this what it took?

She had tried everything. Had taken him to people she knew were kind. Had vouched for him, stood beside him, defended him. And yet, every single time, the moment they learned what he was, they had shut him out.

But now, the second he presented himself as something else, the second he hid what he truly was, he suddenly belonged?

No, that couldn’t be right.

That shouldn’t be right.

Heaven was supposed to be accepting. It was literally built on forgiveness. On compassion.

So why?

Why was he treated so much better when they thought he was a human instead of a demon?

Ariadne suddenly snapped her fingers, eyes lighting up with realization. “Oh my gosh, I get it.”

Emily immediately swung around to stare at her friend, momentarily distracted from her inner turmoil. “Get what?”

Ariadne leaned in closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, her blue curls bouncing dramatically as she nodded toward Vanir. “You have a crush on him! And to think, I thought it would be Abel. Honestly, Em, I didn’t take you as one of those women who's mean to a guy she’s interested in, but I kind of like it. Brings out a whole new side of you.”

Emily’s jaw dropped, her expression twisting into some weird amalgamation of disbelief and outright horror. How in the entire expanse of Heaven had Ariadne possibly arrived at that absurd conclusion?

“What no!” Emily sputtered, her voice squeaking slightly in shock. She shook her head rapidly, wings fluffing with agitation. “Absolutely not.”

Ariadne’s smirk widened as she leaned in, her voice slipping into that singsong lilt that she always had when she thought she had found something juicy. “Okay, I was just teasing before, but now I am actually wondering if you do have a crush on him.”

Emily’s wings stiffened like drawn blades, betraying her mood before she could reel it in. It was as if her very body refused the suggestion.

“That’s disgusting! He’s a monster, Ariadne. A creature from Hell.” Her voice wavered only slightly, but the vitriol behind it was unmistakable. Every syllable carried the weight of conviction, as her eyes burned with the certainty of her duty. She pulled her arms close, as though even the thought of such closeness left her cold. “I could never be with him.”

Ariadne blinked. “From where?”

Emily looked at Ariadne with a puzzled expression before she suddenly let out a loud gasp. This was exactly why she hated lying. One slip, one crack in the mask, and everything threatened to unravel. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t want any part in this in the first place!

It’s not my fault.

She repeated the thought in her head like a shield, but it did little to ease the butterflies forming in her stomach. She needed to act. She needed to smooth the sharp edges of her words before Ariadne put the pieces together.

“I-I meant Earth! Obviously!”

Ariadne simply crossed her arms.

Emily kept going, desperate to reel this back in. “You know, because that’s where he’s from, and that’s what we were just talking about! You must have misheard me, because obviously I wouldn’t say Hell, that’d be ridiculous, because—”

She wasn’t buying it.

Emily sighed heavily, dragging a hand down her face before lifting both hands in a slow, placating gesture. “Ariadne, please don’t freak out.”

Immediately, Ariadne’s bright, excited expression darkened into something wary, a cautious line forming between her eyebrows.

“That is such a bad way to start a sentence.”

Emily grimaced inwardly. Ariadne was right, nothing good ever came after those words. Still, she had to explain this rationally. Ariadne was her friend. Ariadne trusted her.

Taking a steadying breath, Emily lowered her hands, carefully choosing her words as she stepped closer, “Okay. Listen. Vanir isn’t... exactly a normal human soul.”

Ariadne tilted her head slightly, both confusion and suspicion clearly mixing across her face.

Emily hesitated for just a heartbeat, then forced herself to continue.

“He’s the Deadly Sin of Vainglory,” Emily finally confessed, her voice soft but steady. “He’s from Hell. He’s... a demon. He’s only here on a trial period. Sera approved it herself. He’s not a threat. He’s not here to hurt anyone or cause trouble. He’s literally just trying to exist—”

“Oh, nope,” Ariadne said immediately, backing away as if Vanir’s very presence could somehow contaminate her. “Nope! He needs to go right now. I am not having anybody turn evil or get sent to Hell on my birthday!”

Emily’s jaw clenched tightly, frustration building like a coil in her chest. “Yeah, that’s not how any of that works.”

Ariadne tossed her hands up dramatically again, eyes darting nervously toward Vanir as though he might spontaneously burst into flames or eat someone right in front of her. “Then what’s he gonna do, huh?” she demanded in a strained whisper. “Steal someone’s soul instead?”

“Does he look like he’s going to?”

Ariadne turned to face him, and there he was. He was still standing at the table, charmingly explaining how to properly angle a throw to Opal, who was giggling at every word. Zeke was nudging Atlas, whispering something under his breath, and even Ezra looked mildly entertained by whatever Vanir was saying.

Ariadne whipped back around to face her. “Emily! He is literally lying about being an angel right now!”

Emily let out a sharp breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Can you blame him?” She dropped her hand, wings fluffing slightly with frustration. “Every time someone finds out what he is, they freak out! They panic, they ban him from places, they refuse to even look at him!”

Ariadne opened her mouth, but Emily pushed forward.

“You saw what happened when he walked in here. No one cared, because no one knew.”

“That’s—”

“Tell me, honestly,” Emily cut in, locking eyes with her. “If you’d known from the start, would you have let him stay?”

Ariadne exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “Emily, he’s literally a demon.”

Emily frowned, her wings rustling in agitation. “I know that. He did it without asking me! It’s not like I wanted to lie to you.”

For a moment, Ariadne’s expression softened, but it was gone in an instant. She let out a breath, crossing her arms. “I respect you. You know I do. You have this… ability to see the best in everyone, and honestly?” She shook her head, her voice softer now. “That’s amazing. I don’t know how you do it.”

Emily braced herself.

“But, Emily…” Ariadne’s voice hardened. “He’s literally a demon.”

Emily clenched her fists at her sides. “And? What does that mean to you?”

Ariadne’s brows furrowed, frustration flashing across her face. “It means his kind hurts people.”

Emily opened her mouth to argue, but Ariadne didn’t let her.

“You don’t get it,” she said, voice quieter now, but no less firm. “You were born a Seraphim, Emily. In Heaven. You’ve only ever seen good your whole life. You don’t know what it’s like outside of here.”

“Ariadne, that’s not—”

But Ariadne wasn’t finished.

“When I was human?” she continued, her voice gaining a raw edge. “I saw what happens to people when they get tempted. I saw how ugly humans can get when they give in. The kindest people fall apart because of their inner demons. Demons like him.”

Emily flinched.

Ariadne took a step closer, her voice almost pleading now. “Think about what you’re doing,” she pressed. “You’re letting the physical embodiment of that temptation frolic around the one place people think they’re safe. That’s stupid.”

Emily’s fingers dug into the bouquet she still held, the petals crumpling slightly beneath her grip.

She felt the weight behind Ariadne’s words. The conviction in them.

But deep in her gut, something about it didn’t sit right.

Emily shook her head, standing her ground. “No. That may have been true once, but Heaven is built on forgiveness. As far as we know, Vanir hasn’t done anything. Since when has Heaven gone away from innocent until proven guilty?”

Ariadne just stared at her for a long moment.

Then, slowly, she let out a sigh.

“…Fine.” Her voice was softer now, the weight of frustration melting into something steadier. “You want to prove that Heaven is different. That we can be better.” Her lips pressed together briefly before she shook her head. “If it really means that much to you, I’ll let him stay.”

Emily blinked, her eyes widening slightly.

She had been prepared for a fight. For a long, dragged-out argument, for more pushback, for anything but this.

Ariadne was listening. She was understanding. She was proving Emily right.

Ariadne’s gaze flickered toward Vanir, who was still caught in conversation with Opal, completely unaware of the exchange happening across the room.

“People deserve second chances,” Ariadne continued. “And if Sera is giving him one, I guess that means we should too.”

Emily could only smile as she felt the butterflies in her stomach disappear.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I knew you would see it my way.”

Ariadne let out a light laugh, shaking her head. “Of course. It’s your cause, Em.” She turned back to Emily, her expression warming. “And if you believe in it, I believe in you.”

Emily exhaled, tension she hadn’t even realized she was holding bleeding out of her body. This is great! If Ariadne is seriously on board, maybe they could keep being Vanir’s friends after the party.

Heaven really is built on forgiveness. Vanir was wrong.

Confident and radiant as ever, Emily looked up and noticed Ariadne on the stage at the edge of the living room. The blue haired Winner tapped the mic elegantly, the feedback immediately drawing every angelic eye in the vicinity. Gradually, conversations faded into curious murmurs and expectant silence.

“Alright, everyone!” Ariadne called brightly, her voice easily carrying through the crowd. “Can I have your attention, please?”

A gentle hush settled across the party, heads turning toward Ariadne with excitement.

Ariadne’s smile brightened even further, playful mischief dancing behind her eyes. “Now, you may all be wondering why our beloved Emily not only showed up late to my party but also didn’t bring a gift!”

Across the crowd, Zeke cupped his hands around his mouth and let out a playful “Boooo!” drawing laughter from everyone nearby. Emily’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, her lips pressing together as she shot him a quick, exasperated glare. Despite herself, a small smile twitched at the corners of her lips. Typical Zeke.

Ariadne’s voice brought Emily’s attention back to the stage. “Well, everyone, that’s because she actually did bring a gift!” Ariadne announced, raising her arms dramatically. “Emily was working really, really hard behind the scenes to help me set up this year’s special activity!”

Emily froze, her brief amusement evaporating in an instant.

Wait what?

Every year, Ariadne organized a special activity; a unique, memorable highlight of her birthday party. It was always something Ariadne planned meticulously, something that would have everyone talking about it for weeks. Emily hadn’t helped Ariadne set up anything. She didn’t even know what the activity for this year was.

Ariadne’s smile sharpened slightly, eyes gleaming as she scanned the crowd, ensuring everyone’s attention was firmly fixed upon her. “Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, angels and newly arrived souls alike, we have a demon in our midst.”

A shocked gasp rippled through the house, the atmosphere shifting instantly into wary tension. Emily’s heart dropped into her stomach.

Suddenly, a spotlight blazed to life, focusing directly on Vanir. He immediately straightened, blinking rapidly against the sudden brightness, confusion clouding his previously relaxed expression.

Ariadne gestured grandly toward him, her voice ringing clear and smooth. “This lovely specimen is actually one of Hell’s Deadly Sins,” she announced, eyes twinkling with theatrical flourish. “None other than Vainglory itself!”

Another wave of startled murmurs swept through the assembled angels.

Ariadne gave a brief laugh, shaking her head playfully. “You know, one of the ones you probably haven’t heard of. But hey, who here has the budget for Pride, right?”

A few nervous chuckles drifted from the crowd, an uneasy attempt to alleviate the tension Ariadne’s reveal had created.

Vanir’s expression shifted from confusion to startled clarity. Slowly, stiffly, he turned to look at Emily, his green eyes locking onto hers. His gaze was questioning, searching, silently asking her the question she dreaded.

What did you do?

Ezra was the first to move.

Before Emily could so much as register what was happening, Ezra grabbed him by the arms, yanking them back with force. Vanir stiffened, confusion flickering across his face as his balance shifted, just enough to leave him completely open.

Then Zeke stepped forward, and his fist, glowing with searing angelic light, came down.

The impact was immediate.

A sickening crack echoed through the mansion as Zeke’s fist collided with Vanir’s jaw, snapping his head to the side with brutal force. His body twisted, wings fanning out in an instinctive attempt to stay upright, but it was pointless. His legs buckled, and he hit the marble floor hard, a sharp gasp ripping from his throat. Blood splattered across the polished white stone, vibrant and black against the perfect Heaven-forged architecture.

Emily’s breath caught, but she was frozen, her feet cemented in place.

Ariadne’s voice rang out above the low, stunned murmurs of the crowd. “Revenge, for every friend and every family member corrupted by his vile sin.”

Vanir coughed, spitting blood onto the pristine floor. He barely had a second to breathe before a vicious knee drove into his stomach, forcing the air from his lungs in a harsh, choked noise. His body curled inward from the sheer force of it, but Ezra didn’t let go.

Instead, he yanked Vanir back up, gripping his collar in an iron hold before throwing him down again.

The back of Vanir’s skull cracked against the floor.

Emily flinched.

The pain must have been blinding, but he made no sound, just a sharp inhale as his body twitched involuntarily from the impact. His wings, once sleek and poised, were sprawled out messily around him, feathers bent at odd angles against the marble.

Then the others joined in.

Fists rained down on Vanir’s battered frame with cruel, methodical precision. Each strike landed with sickening force, bruises already darkening beneath his shredded clothes. A boot came down onto his ribs. He twisted, barely managing to avoid the worst of it, but another followed immediately after, slamming into his side.

Something cracked.

Emily’s heart stopped.

She wanted to move. She had to move. But her body was locked in place, useless and still as the world collapsed around her.

Then it came.

The sharp, sickening sound of something breaking.

Emily barely had time to register the shift before Vanir’s body jerked violently, his head snapping back as pain ripped through him. The emerald glow of his eyes flickered—just for a second.

His horn.

She didn’t want to see it. She couldn’t see it.

Emily squeezed her eyes shut so tightly that dark shapes swam behind her lids.

If she didn’t see it, she could pretend it wasn’t happening. Pretend she wasn’t standing here letting it happen.

But she still heard it.

The dull, wet thuds of fists and feet striking flesh. The awful tearing of feathers as his tail was ripped apart. The hushed, eager murmurs of the angels around her, righteous and cruel, whispering things she never thought she would ever hear in Heaven.

And worse than anything else, Vanir’s silence.

No fight. No protest. No snarled words or clever quips.

Just acceptance.

She didn’t know how long she stood there, fists clenched, nails digging into her palms. She only knew that when she finally opened her eyes again, it was because something had hit her.

Something heavy.

Her arms instinctively locked around the weight before she even realized what it was.

She looked down.

She shouldn’t have.

Vanir.

He was barely conscious. Barely breathing. His body slumped against hers, his ruined weight pressing into her arms.

He was unrecognizable.

The pristine purple and gold of his tailored cloak was shredded, hanging in limp tatters around his battered frame. Blood, dark and thick, seeped into the expensive fabric, staining the once-impeccable outfit with deep, ugly patches of black. His golden-brown skin was marred with violent bruises, welting up beneath the torn remains of his shirt, creeping along his jaw.

And his horn.

A jagged, raw crack ran up one of the spiraled ridges, splintering deep into the violet streaks that had once gleamed in the lantern light. A crack that would never fully heal, that would always mark him, always remind him of this moment.

Then her eyes fell to his tail.

The peacock-like array of iridescent green and violet feathers, the centerpiece of his vanity, the pride of his presentation. It was ruined.

Crushed.

Torn.

Mangled.

But that wasn’t the worst part. That was the smell.

His blood carried the sharp metallic tang of copper, clashing with the lingering traces of sweetness of his expensive cologne. Emily hated that dichotomy. It created something sickly. Something so bad that she almost threw up.

But she couldn’t. Not with everyone watching her.

A slow clap echoed through the living room.

Ariadne stood above them, still on stage, smiling. “Well,” she said, tilting her head, “that was cathartic.”

The murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd, some guests wiping blood from their hands, others whispering to each other with satisfied nods.

Ariadne’s gaze landed on Emily. “You know, you’re the strongest one here.” She smiled wider, almost fondly. “It’s only right that you finish it.”

Emily took a slow, measured breath, forcing her expression into something neutral. She tightened her grip around Vanir’s battered frame, steadying the trembling weight in her arms before shifting her gaze upward, meeting Ariadne’s expectant stare.

She smiled. It was small. Polite. Unshaken.

“I would love to,” she said, voice light, almost teasing. “But I can’t.”

Ezra frowned slightly from where he stood, still flexing his bloodied hands. “Are you sure?” he asked. “You didn’t even get a single hit in.”

Emily nodded, her grip tightening around Vanir’s limp form. “I’m sure,” she said. “Unfortunately, Sera personally insisted that I had to take care of him.” She exhaled sharply, tilting her head in feigned amusement. “And killing him is kind of the opposite of that.” Her voice took on an almost wry tone, as if she found this whole situation mildly inconvenient rather than horrifying. “Even hurting him this bad is going to be a lot to explain.”

Before anyone could respond, a gentle hand landed on Emily’s shoulder.

She stiffened.

Emily barely had time to react before Opal’s voice came out.

“I really appreciate you putting your neck on the line like this,” she murmured. “We… needed this. Some much-needed closure.”

Emily turned slowly, her gaze landing on Opal’s hand.

Her knuckles were black.

The stark contrast between the inky black liquid smeared across her bright yellow skin sent another sickening wave of nausea rolling through Emily’s stomach.

She jerked back instinctively, hugging Vanir’s broken body closer to her chest.

“It’s fine,” she said quickly, her voice coming out sharper than she intended.

Opal blinked in slight surprise, but before she could say anything else, others began stepping forward, murmuring their own thanks.

“Yeah, thanks, Em,” Zeke said, rolling out his shoulders, his easy grin returning like nothing had happened.

“We really appreciate it,” Atlas added, wiping a streak of blood from his forearm.

Ezra nodded. “It’s good that someone was responsible for him.”

Emily forced another small smile, something hollow and mechanical. “It’s fine,” she said again, voice smooth, controlled. “Really. What are friends for?”

Her fingers dug into Vanir’s ruined cloak, careful to avoid pressing too hard against his bruised ribs. She needed to leave.

She took a deep breath to steady her expression. “Anyways, I really need to go.”

Ariadne tilted her head slightly, still watching her with that unreadable expression. “Are you sure?” she asked. “We still have cake-cutting and everything.”

Emily shook her head, smiling in a way that was supposed to look apologetic. “I’m sure.” She adjusted her grip around Vanir’s unconscious body, ignoring how disturbingly light he felt. “I need to heal him before Sera catches him in this state.”

That was the truth, at least.

She was already shifting her weight, already preparing to pull the divine light around her, to leave, to get out of this awful, bloodstained mansion with its glowing lanterns and golden decorations and the nauseating laughter of people who had just torn a man apart like it was a party game.

But just as the energy started to gather at her fingertips, Ariadne’s voice cut through the air, casual, soft, just for her.

“Hey, Em. Wait up.”

Emily cursed internally, but she stopped, her grip on Vanir tightening.

Ariadne had stepped down from the stage, her heels clicking softly against the marble as she approached. The warmth of the party buzzed behind her, but her gaze was focused, direct, gleaming in the lantern light.

She stopped just short of Emily, tilting her head slightly. “We good?”

Emily blinked, keeping her expression carefully neutral. “What?”

Ariadne gave a small shrug. “I know I kinda sprung all of this on you.” She gestured vaguely toward the stage, the lingering whispers of the guests, the streaks of blood still smeared across the pristine floor. “Didn’t really give you a heads-up or anything.”

Emily’s lips curved up into something easy, something effortless, something practiced. “Nah, we’re cool,” she said, her voice smooth. “Seriously.”

Ariadne studied her for a long moment.

Then, slowly, she smiled.

“Perfect.”

The word settled in Emily’s stomach like lead.

She didn’t let it show.

Instead, before Ariadne could say another word, before Emily’s composure could crumble entirely, she closed her eyes tight, summoned every last ounce of divine magic she had left, and vanished in a flash of blinding white light, Vanir’s battered form clutched protectively against her chest.

A field stretched out endlessly around them, rolling gently beneath the dark blue sky. The grass was soft beneath her trembling legs, swaying in a gentle wind, whispering softly as if in consolation. It was empty, isolated, a place Emily barely recognized, some random spot she’d instinctively chosen just to get away. Anywhere, anything to be far, far away from what she’d just witnessed.

She sank to her knees slowly, carefully, cradling Vanir’s broken form. Her mind was still refusing to fully process what had happened. What she allowed to happen.

Vanir stirred weakly in her arms, his battered body shifting slightly as his eyes slowly, painfully turned upward to meet hers.

Emily felt the breath freeze in her chest.

He was looking at her, really looking at her. Those bright, cat-like eyes were still foggy, dulled with agony of the pain she didn’t even want to think he was feeling. Yet despite the bruises marring his skin, despite the cracked horn and tattered tail feathers, despite the blood smeared along his jaw, his gaze wasn’t accusing or angry or even betrayed.

It was just confused.

Quietly, numbly confused, as if he were trying to piece together how they’d gotten here. How things had spiraled so horribly wrong.

Emily swallowed hard, her throat dry, aching. “Vanir…” she said weakly, her voice trembling. “Vanir, please, it’s not what you think.”

Her vision blurred suddenly, tears burning hot and sharp at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill. She shook her head quickly, desperately.

“I had no idea, Vanir,” she whispered urgently, her voice cracking. “I swear. I had no idea Ariadne was going to do that. I would never—”

Vanir lifted a hand, placing a single finger against her lips.

“I know.”

Emily froze.

His touch was light, almost absentminded, but it was enough to shut her up entirely. He let his hand drop soon after, shifting slightly against her grasp. His bruised face twitched, a faint, humorless smirk curling at the edge of his mouth.

“It was so obvious from your face alone.” His voice was quieter than usual, lacking its usual theatrics. Just calm. Just tired.

He let out a breath, slow and steady, then tilted his head slightly, studying her in that way he always did, like she was a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out.

“You really believed in them, huh? You really thought I could make friends.”

Emily’s throat tightened.

“I don’t get why.”

Emily frowned as she forced herself to look at him. As she forced herself to hear him. “What do you mean?”

Vanir let his head rest back against her, eyes half-lidded. “You don’t like me.”

She blinked. “That’s not–”

“You don’t.”

His tone wasn’t accusatory, just stating a fact. “You only agreed to watch me because you were convinced I couldn’t change. That I’d fail… Why did you think any of them would be better?”

He wasn’t wrong.

She hadn’t thought he could change. When Sera had given her the task of monitoring him, she had taken it as a challenge, a chance to prove that she was right, that Heaven was right. That a demon, a Deadly Sin, could never belong here. That the moment people saw him for what he was, they would reject him.

And they had.

She had been so sure that Heaven was built on acceptance, on forgiveness. That the people here were good and kind and better than the souls they had been in life.

But then… the café. The flower shop. The garden.

And then Ariadne.

Her stomach twisted.

She had wanted to prove herself right.

But instead, she had proven him right.

Vanir shifted slightly in her hold, his weight still heavy against her arms. She could feel the tension in his body, the exhaustion that settled into his limbs. He wasn’t looking at her anymore, his gaze drifting somewhere beyond the empty expanse of Heaven’s sky.

Emily swallowed hard. “I thought…” Her voice came out weak, and she hated it. She steadied herself and tried again. “I thought that if you just tried, people would see that you weren’t…” She trailed off, unsure how to even finish the sentence.

Vanir let out a quiet, humorless chuckle. “That I wasn’t what?”

Emily clenched her jaw. “That you weren’t evil.”

“Did I ever say I wasn’t?”

Her grip on him tightened. “You—”

She stopped herself, closing her eyes for a brief second before looking at him again. “You didn’t do anything, Vanir.” Her voice was quiet now, like saying it too loud would break something fragile. “Not once. You didn’t even fight back.”

Vanir smirked, but it lacked his usual sharpness. “It wouldn’t have made a difference, Emily.”

Would it have?

If he had defended himself, if he had so much as lifted a hand to stop them, would she have stepped in? Or would she have let it happen? Let the narrative play out the way everyone expected it to? A demon lashing out in a place he didn’t belong. A monster proving them right.

The realization made her sick.

Vanir sighed, the rise and fall of his chest shallow against her arms. “It was almost funny, you know?” He let out a small laugh, his voice hoarse. “How fast they turned.”

It had taken seconds. A single sentence from Ariadne, and suddenly everything shifted. All that warmth, that hospitality, it hadn’t been real. Not when it came to him. It had only existed because they had thought he was one of them.

“I thought…” Emily hesitated, the words catching in her throat. “I thought they were better than that.”

Vanir let out a breath, his expression unreadable. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Me too.”

Emily hated how much that stung.

She didn’t know what to say. What to do. For the first time since she had met Vanir, she didn’t feel like she was holding a demon.

She was just holding him.

Someone had spent the entire day genuinely trying to be part of something that had never wanted him in the first place.

She looked down at the cracked horn, the bruises that formed against his skin, the way his tattered wings barely shifted as he breathed.

She had let this happen.

And she couldn’t take it back.

“I’m sorry.”

The words came out before she could stop them, barely more than a whisper.

“I’m so sorry.”

Chapter Text

Emily stood frozen at the center of the chaos, the vibrant sounds of laughter and music distorting into something twisted and unrecognizable. Her chest felt tight, her heartbeat drumming frantically against her ribs as Vanir was ripped away from her reach. She tried to shout, tried to move, but found herself rooted in place, unable to lift even a finger.

She watched helplessly, as Ezra pulled Vanir back, the angel’s serene face suddenly twisted into something dark and cruel. Her breath caught painfully as Zeke stepped forward, his fist glowing with divine energy as it came down upon Vanir’s jaw.

The strike rang out like a bell. A clear, metallic note resonating through her bones. Emily flinched, her heart squeezing painfully as she struggled to push forward, but it was as if invisible chains held her in place. She tried again, muscles burning, willing her limbs to move even an inch. But nothing happened.

Another blow landed, ringing louder this time. The sound echoed, sharp and relentless, burying deep into her skull. Her vision blurred, tears obscuring her view as Vanir crumpled, his proud form shattered beneath their merciless strikes.

“No, please,” she tried to whisper, but the words came out silent and useless.

She watched with a sickening helplessness as more fists rained down, each strike reverberating around her in a distorted melody of pain and fury. Another punch, another bell, and each time it only grew louder. She desperately tried fighting back against her restraints, but the constant ringing made it even harder to focus.

It doesn’t matter.

She had to stop this. She had to reach him. She had to—

Another bell.

And another.

Each chime was more painful than the last, slicing into her mind until she suddenly jerked awake with a sharp gasp. Her heart raced painfully beneath her ribs; the nightmare was still so vivid and raw that it sent a shudder of adrenaline coursing through her veins.

She blinked quickly, trying to focus. She was seated uncomfortably, her back aching from the position she’d fallen asleep in. Beneath her, a plastic folding chair creaked softly, reminding her of the hastily thrown-together situation she’d found herself in.

She glanced over at her bed, heart twisting at the sight before her.

Vanir shifted slightly under her sheets, his normally pristine form marred with countless bruises, bandages, and scratches, his breathing shallow but thankfully steady. His cracked horn, now gently wrapped, was a stark reminder of what had happened, what she had let happen.

Emily swallowed the lump in her throat, carefully pushing herself up from the chair. She winced slightly, stretching the stiffness from her limbs as her gaze settled on him again. Had she really fallen asleep watching him? She didn’t even remember closing her eyes.

She took a careful step toward the bed, needing to ensure he was still stable, still breathing, still alive.

But before she could reach him, that awful, unmistakable chime sounded again.

Emily froze instantly, her eyes widening in panic as another shot of adrenaline coursed through her. But as she heard the chime once more, she realized that it wasn’t some cruel nightmare distortion.

It was her doorbell.

She blinked, letting out a slow, calming breath, her gaze flicking uncertainly toward the door, heart still thudding with lingering dread.

Who could possibly be here right now?

Emily walked to the door, shaking off the last remnants of sleep as she forced herself to focus. The nightmare still clung to her mind, a sickening, lingering weight pressing against her chest, but the doorbell’s insistent chime kept her moving.

She wasn’t sure what to expect as she opened the door. Maybe a concerned neighbor. Maybe one of her friends that didn’t beat up a demon in the middle of a birthday party.

She did not expect Sera.

The Head Seraphim stood on her doorstep, looking less like one of Heaven’s most powerful authority figures and more like a deeply annoyed woman who had been standing outside for way too long. Her pristine, flowing robes barely moved in the gentle celestial breeze, her grand halo hovering just above her head, glowing with an ethereal light. Her stone grey eyes locked onto Emily’s the second the door opened.

And she did not look pleased.

“There you are,” Sera said, exhaling sharply as she crossed her arms. “Finally.”

Emily blinked at her boss, still groggy. “Sera?”

“What are you doing?” Sera demanded. “I have been standing outside ringing this stupid doorbell for the past fifteen minutes.”

Emily’s confusion only deepened. “You have?”

“Yes, because you wouldn’t pick up any of my calls.”

Emily frowned, her sleep-addled mind still trying to catch up. “Wait… you called me?”

Sera’s eyes narrowed slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Yes, Emily, I called you. Repeatedly.”

Emily barely heard the words, already flicking her wrist instinctively. A faint shimmer of light flickered in the air before her, and her phone materialized in her palm. She glanced down at the screen, and immediately felt her stomach drop.

Twenty missed calls.

All from Sera.

Emily swallowed thickly. How had she not heard her phone? She must have been really out of it.

Sera, watching Emily’s expression shift, let out a measured breath before speaking again.

“Emily,” she said, softer now, though still firm. “Are you alright?”

Emily looked up, startled by the question.

“This is not like you.” Sera’s gaze searched hers, eyes sharp but concerned. “You never ignore my calls. You’re never this… unresponsive.”

Emily opened her mouth, the automatic instinct to insist that she was fine bubbling up to her lips—

But the words got stuck.

Because she wasn’t fine.

Not even close.

She stood there, her grip tightening around the phone, her body suddenly too aware of the weight of exhaustion pulling at her limbs, the ache in her bones, the stinging behind her eyes. The reality of everything—Vanir, the party, the betrayal, the blood—it all sat heavy in her chest. The weight was just so… suffocating.

But she couldn’t say any of that.

So she just swallowed hard, forcing a small, weak smile.

“I…” Her voice came out quieter than she wanted. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

Sera held Emily’s gaze for a moment longer, as if waiting for her to crack and admit that she was, in fact, very far from alright. But when Emily stubbornly held onto her forced composure, the Head Seraphim let out a quiet sigh before she finally relented.

“Very well,” Sera said, though there was an unmistakable note of skepticism in her tone. “The reason I called so much was to check in on our brand new guest. Now that his first day is complete, I wanted to see how he was adjusting to everything.”

Emily’s fingers went rigid around her phone, every nerve in her body lighting up at once. She barely caught herself before blurting out something completely unintelligible, but what came out wasn’t much better.

“Th-that’s my job,” she stammered, stepping slightly in front of the door as if she could somehow block Sera from seeing anything inside. “I mean, I was assigned to watch over him, right? To make sure he adjusts well? You don’t need to trouble yourself with this. You normally don’t check in when a soul is under my care, so there’s no need to start now.”

It was a bad cover-up. A terrible one. Her voice was too quick, too desperate, her body too tense, but she couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out.

Sera didn’t react immediately. She just watched Emily, studying her like a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit.

“That is true,” Sera admitted. “Normally, I wouldn’t. A soul struggling to adjust is nothing new, and you’ve always been more than capable of handling those cases on your own.”

Emily’s shoulders tensed in anticipation.

“But this is different.”

Emily swallowed, a cold dread creeping up her spine.

“Vanir is not just a lost soul. He is not even just a demon.” Sera’s gaze flickered with something heavier, something serious. “He is a Deadly Sin. That alone makes him royalty according to Hell’s fucked up hierarchy.”

Emily’s blood ran cold.

Her mind blanked, everything around her suddenly feeling like it had tilted.

He’s… royalty?

The word barely registered, her brain struggling to process it against the sheer wrongness of everything she had let happen.

“And if something truly bad were to happen to him,” Sera continued, oblivious to the absolute horror washing over Emily’s face, “it could very well be the cause of war between the realms.”

Emily felt like she had been punched in the stomach.

There was no universe where this didn’t count as something really bad.

Emily’s breath was shallow, her mind scrambling as she looked up at Sera, who was still watching her expectantly. Her entire body screamed at her to lie, to say something, anything, that could buy her just a little more time to figure out what to do.

But the words wouldn’t come.

Because lying would go against everything she stood for.

She had spent her entire existence in Heaven preaching honesty, integrity, and the importance of doing the right thing, even when it was hard. Even when it was impossible. Even when it felt like the worst possible choice in the world.

And right now, it felt exactly like that.

Emily gulped, dropping her gaze as the last shreds of resistance left her.

“…I’ll show you where he is,” she murmured.

She stepped aside, her heart twisting painfully as she led Sera into the room. The Head Seraphim’s footsteps were graceful and steady, and each delicate tap against the polished floor sent Emily’s anxiety soaring higher. Her heart pounded against her chest as she pushed open the door to her bedroom, bracing herself as Sera entered.

Emily didn’t need to see her face to know Sera was horrified. She could feel it. The sharp inhale, the sudden stiffness in her posture, the sheer disbelief radiating off of her like an oppressive heat.

“Emily, what is going on?”

Before Emily could even open her mouth to respond, a familiar voice cut through the heavy silence.

“Oh, thank Satan you’re here,” Vanir said smoothly, pushing himself upright as if nothing were amiss. Despite the bruises standing out sharply against his skin, he moved with an almost deliberate ease, his emerald eyes flashing with a mixture of relief and deep annoyance. “Can you please, please tell Emily to stop doting over me? It’s awful.”

Emily froze, stepping back in shock she stared at Vanir. What in Heaven’s name was he doing? He shouldn’t even be awake right now.

Vanir lifted a hand with exaggerated exasperation, gesturing toward her. “Honestly, after we got back here, she fussed over me like I was some helpless little bird who fell out of a tree. She went through all three hundred and ninety-eight of her guest rooms just to find the most comfortable bed for me to sleep in.”

Emily’s cheeks immediately flushed a bright gold. “I was just trying to make sure you got the best rest possible!”

Vanir gave her an unimpressed look before ignoring her and turning back to Sera. “And then she insisted on force-feeding me some ridiculous chicken soup like I was a sick human child!”

“You weren’t eating!” Emily shot back, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

“That wasn’t even the worst part, though. When I told her it was four in the morning and I’d only fall asleep if she went to bed as well, she finally agreed and left my room. But just when I thought it was finally over, she came right back in and spent the rest of the night staring at me from that cheap plastic chair over there.”

He pointed at the folding chair Emily had been seated in earlier with a surprising level of vigor. “I would’ve confronted her if the whole thing hadn’t been so creepy.”

Emily gasped, flustered outrage burning in her chest. “It wasn’t creepy, Vanir, it was caring!”

Vanir rolled his eyes. “Oh yes, because watching someone sleep all night definitely says ‘caring’ and not ‘horror-movie stalker.’”

“You are so ungrateful!” Emily snapped, wings puffing in indignation. “I was trying to make sure you were safe!”

“I didn’t ask you to treat me like some fragile glass sculpture!”

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so stubborn—”

“ENOUGH!”

Sera’s voice cracked through the room like thunder, effectively silencing both Emily and Vanir instantly. The Head Seraphim’s expression was tense, her eyes blazing with irritation as she turned sharply toward the arguing duo. Emily instinctively moved closer to Vanir, shifting slightly in front of him in a clearly protective stance.

Vanir’s scowl immediately deepened as he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. The irritated look he shot her wasn’t just his usual brand of sarcasm, it was outright exasperation, like her mere existence in his personal space was physically exhausting.

Sera’s sharp gaze flicked between Emily and Vanir before settling on Emily with pointed scrutiny.

“Why did you just move closer to him?” Sera asked, her voice measured but distinctly questioning. “Are you worried I’m going to hurt him or something?”

Emily stiffened slightly, shaking her head almost immediately. “No,” she said quickly.

But she didn’t move away.

She knew logically that Sera wouldn’t harm Vanir. At least, she hoped she knew. But something deep within her had reacted on instinct, forcing her into that protective stance.

Sera looked at her for a moment longer with a curious expression. Emily forced herself to hold steady, keeping her wings tucked neatly behind her back despite the tension crawling up her spine.

Finally, Sera sighed and turned her attention fully to Vanir. “How did you get this hurt?”

Emily’s pulse sped up, her throat tightening painfully as she tried to formulate a response. But before she could say a word, Vanir spoke up.

“Oh, it’s entirely my own fault,” Vanir drawled casually, waving a hand as if dismissing the whole situation. “Emily decided to take me to Ariadne’s birthday party, and you know me. Such a sinful demon.” He rolled his eyes dramatically. “I got absolutely plastered and ended up falling off their balcony.”

Emily blinked at him, completely floored by the sheer audacity of the lie.

Sera, however, was not even slightly convinced. She turned back to Emily. “What actually happened?”

“That is what actually happened,” Vanir insisted immediately. His voice carried a sharp edge of annoyance, as though he were personally offended that she hadn’t believed him the first time.

“Oh really?”

“Yep,” Vanir said, nodding far too quickly. “Tragic, really. First day in Heaven and I already humiliated myself. You should’ve seen it. I dropped like a rock.”

Sera’s eyes narrowed slightly, her fingers tapping against the side of her arm as she considered him. “You have wings, Vanir.”

Vanir’s expression immediately shifted, a subtle black blush rising quickly to his cheeks in pure embarrassment. His confident demeanor faltered slightly, and for a rare moment, he actually seemed flustered.

In any other situation, Emily would have loved this.

“Vanir,” Emily said softly, turning slightly to meet his gaze. Her voice was steadier now, quieter. “Stop lying. Please.”

Vanir frowned, turning his head toward her in a clear attempt to argue, but Emily immediately put a finger over his lips. She wasn’t going to give him the opportunity.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” she continued sincerely, her heart clenching at his silent defiance. “But I need to face the consequences of my actions.”

Vanir shook his head at her vigorously, irritation flaring in his eyes as his tone darkened. “Emily, this wasn’t your fault!”

“I disagree,” Emily responded immediately, her voice quiet but unyielding. She held his gaze, ignoring the frustration simmering beneath his eyes. “And honestly, it doesn’t matter whose fault it is. You’re hurt, and you were my responsibility.”

Emily straightened further, breathing deeply as she forced herself to face Sera again. Her voice grew stronger, steadier, conviction coloring every word. “I’m taking responsibility. Consider this your first lesson in becoming a better person, Vanir.”

Emily took a slow, steadying breath, finally forcing herself to meet Sera’s piercing gaze directly. The quiet weight of her superior’s stare was heavy, yet oddly reassuring. She knew that, at least in this moment, she could tell the truth.

“We tried, Sera. We really tried.” Emily’s voice was steady, but the weight of the day pressed heavily against her chest. “We spent the whole day going all over the Promenade, trying to get Vanir some friends. I introduced him to people I trusted, people I thought would be open, but…” Her voice faltered for just a second before she forced herself to continue. “Nobody wanted to.”

Sera remained silent, her piercing gaze fixed on Emily, but Emily didn’t let the silence shake her. She pushed forward, needing to lay everything bare.

“Eventually, we went to Ariadne’s birthday party,” Emily said, pressing her hands together as if grounding herself. “And, yeah, Vanir did lie about being a Winner. But he didn’t do it for some selfish reason. He just—” she swallowed, choosing her words carefully, “—he just wanted to exist. He didn’t want to ruin her party just by being there.”

Vanir, who had been listening in silence, scoffed lightly. “Emily, you’re giving me way too much credit. I still lied. Let’s not pretend I’m some selfless martyr.”

Emily turned to him, meeting his gaze. “And you paid the price for it,” she said simply.

That must have made him uncomfortable, because he didn’t say anything else.

Emily looked back at Sera. “I messed up,” she admitted, voice quieter now. “I slipped up, and Ariadne found out the truth. And she… she turned it into a game.” Her fingers curled against her palm, her stomach twisting violently. “All the guests at the party, I watched them attack him.” Her jaw tightened. “And I did nothing to stop it.”

A heavy silence followed, pressing thickly between them. Emily’s heart pounded, but she didn’t look away. She didn’t try to defend herself. This was the truth, and she had already decided to face it.

Sera slowly turned to Vanir. Her expression was difficult to read, but when she spoke, her voice carried a weight that sent an immediate jolt of panic through Emily’s chest.

“Do you want to leave?” Sera asked him directly. “If that’s your choice, I’ll heal you and escort you to the gates myself. All I ask is that you don’t mention what happened yesterday once you’re back home, and we can pretend this never happened.”

Leave?

Emily’s stomach twisted, an immediate, visceral rejection of the idea rising up before she could even understand why.

Vanir leaving Heaven meant more than just getting her favorite guest bedroom back. It meant that all of this, the entire exhausting, frustrating, and painful day, would have been for nothing. He would go back to Hell, back to whatever torture he’d been clawing his way out of, and she wouldn’t even know if he was safe.

And that thought unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.

Why did she even care?

Did she want him to stay?

The rational part of her said she shouldn’t. He was arrogant, sarcastic, and frustrating beyond reason. He mocked her, challenged her, and pushed against every instinct she had about how things should be. And yet, she had spent the entire day trying to prove that he could belong here. That he deserved a place among them. That Heaven was better than it had shown itself to be.

But if he left now… what would that say?

That she had failed?

That they had failed?

That she had given up on him before he even had a chance?

Her throat felt tight, the air too thick, her heart hammering a little too fast in her chest as she turned to him, desperate to see what he would say. Would he actually take the offer?

But Vanir didn’t hesitate. Not even for a second.

“No, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Emily looked at him in surprise, caught off guard by how immediate his answer was.

Vanir met Sera’s gaze with a confident smile. “Believe it or not, I’m in this for the long haul.”

Emily let out a silent sigh of relief.

Sera studied him for a moment longer before nodding. “If that’s what you wish, then so be it,” she said. Her voice didn’t hold approval or disapproval, just simple acknowledgment. Then, after a moment, her expression hardened. “But rest assured, I will be having a talk with Ariadne and the others.”

“Something like this will never happen again.”

Her tone sent a chill down Emily’s spine.

Vanir shot up from the bed so fast that Emily jumped a little, his usual subtle elegance replaced with a far more panicked demeanor. “You can’t just do that!” he said, blurting the words out without thinking.

Sera, who had already been halfway to turning away, stopped in her tracks. She turned her head slowly, her piercing stone gaze locking onto Vanir with the offense of someone who was clearly not used to being told what she could and couldn’t do.

“Excuse me?”

Vanir ran a hand through his disheveled hair, visibly agitated, though whether from pain or frustration was unclear. “That’s not going to solve anything,” he argued, his voice still hoarse from exhaustion, but layered with an urgency Emily rarely heard from him. He let out a breath, shaking his head slightly. “Look, I think the best way to explain this is with an analogy.”

Emily frowned at him, narrowing her eyes. “An analogy?

“Yes, Emily, an analogy,” Vanir repeated, now fully shifting in his seat to face Sera properly. His movements were slow, but his energy was unwavering. He gestured vaguely toward Sera. “Let’s say Heaven is a high school. If that’s the case, then Sera, you’d be the principal. High and mighty, sitting in your office, only coming out when things get messy.”

Sera’s expression didn’t shift, but Emily swore she saw her eyes narrow slightly.

Vanir didn’t seem to notice. He continued, voice picking up speed. “I’m the new transfer student, and Ariadne is one of the popular girls who’s been here a while. She’s well-liked, she knows how things work, and she has a lot of influence.”

Emily frowned slightly. “Okay, but then what am I?”

Vanir barely even glanced at her before replying, “The guidance counselor who’s in way over her head.”

Emily made an offended noise, as her wings fluttered indignantly. “Excuse me?!”

Vanir ignored her entirely, already turning back to Sera. “This whole thing is basically a bullying incident. Ariadne used her influence to get the rest of the school to pick on me. You know what happens when a bullied kid runs straight to the principal?” He gave a pointed look. “It just builds more resentment. Instead of fixing the problem, it makes them a bigger target. It gives people a reason to pick on them more.”

Sera continued to stare with him, almost as if she was actually contemplating his words. Emily, however, was not convinced.

“This isn’t about that, Vanir,” she argued. “This is about justice! They nearly killed you!”

Vanir rolled his eyes so hard Emily thought they might actually fall out of his skull. “Oh, come on. They did not nearly kill me.”

Emily’s fists clenched. “They beat you until you couldn’t stand!”

“And?” Vanir tilted his head, giving her a flat, unimpressed look. “Emily, I’m a Deadly Sin. The embodiment of vanity itself. As long as it exists in the world, so do I.”

Emily felt something cold settle in her stomach, but Vanir kept going before she could respond.

“That means even with Sera’s stupid anklet crippling my powers, they couldn’t kill me. At best, they’d just keep hurting me. And honestly? It didn’t even hurt that much.”

Emily’s expression twisted in disbelief. “How could it not have hurt?”

Vanir smirked, tilting his head. “I’m a shapeshifter, Emily. Do you really think I kept my pain receptors at full capacity?” He waved a hand dismissively. “It just felt like a dull ache. Annoying, but not unbearable.”

Emily frowned, shaking her head. “That’s not possible,” she said, her voice firm. “I can shapeshift. Sera can shapeshift. Neither of us can control our pain receptors. They’re super small and all across the body.”

Vanir’s smirk widened, and there was something obnoxiously smug about it. “That’s because neither of you are at my level.”

Emily looked shocked, taken back by the sheer arrogance of that statement.

“In fact, I’m even better than Lucifer himself,” Vanir added.

That made both Emily and Sera stiffen slightly.

“A big part of vanity,” Vanir continued, leaning forward just slightly, “is how one presents themselves. And my body? My vessel? It’s literally the thing I use to present myself to the world. Of course I would have complete control over it.”

“So what?” Emily asked, her voice laced with frustration. “None of this mattered to you?”

Vanir shrugged, utterly nonchalant. “Yeah, pretty much.” He tilted his head, expression cool and indifferent. “It really isn’t that big of a deal. Let’s just move on and call this a day. No need to drag it out, right?”

Emily’s jaw clenched as she looked down at him, really looked at him. He was sitting there, sprawled out like this entire conversation bored him, but his body told a different story. His clothes were still torn, blood drying against the fabric, the edges of bruises peeking out beneath the rips. His horn was cracked, his tail was mangled, and his wings, which he had once carried with so much poise, were limp against the bed, adorned with feathers bent at unnatural angles.

And he wanted to just move on?

“No,” Emily said, turning to Sera. “It doesn’t matter what Vanir thinks. I was the one who messed up. He got hurt under my watch. I need to be punished. Same with Ariadne and the others.”

Sera studied her for a long moment before nodding. “I agree,” she said simply. “It may not be enjoyable, but to not administer consequences simply because it might not be easy or comfortable is slothful.”

Vanir scoffed as he looked at Sera. “I feel like that’s a vast oversimplification.”

Sera’s gaze snapped toward him, her eyes narrowing into a harsh glare. “Vanir, this isn’t Hell anymore. I understand that demons down there have a habit of being rude and overly casual, but up here we show respect to our superiors. You have no jurisdiction in Heaven, I do. Never question my authority again. Is that clear?”

Vanir’s smirk faltered for just a second, his eyes locking onto hers in a way that almost seemed defiant. He held her stare for a moment, before relenting with an exaggerated sigh. “That’s clear.”

Sera nodded. “Good.”

Without another word, she reached into the folds of her robe and pulled out a small, ornate key. Emily’s breath caught slightly as Sera stepped forward, kneeling gracefully before Vanir’s ankle. The golden anklet around his leg, the one that had been suppressing him since the moment he arrived in Heaven, gleamed faintly in the soft light of the room.

There was a click.

The moment the anklet unlocked, Vanir acted instantly. A rush of teal exploded from his body, not outward, but inward, like a flood of energy snapping back into place.

Emily barely had time to react before she watched him heal himself.

It wasn’t slow, Vanir’s body reassembled itself with unnatural efficiency. The bruises simply vanished, like paint being wiped off a canvas. The torn flesh of his lip sealed shut in a blink. The cracks in his horn pulled together, smoothing over like polished obsidian. His tail, once a ruined mess, snapped back into perfect shape, each iridescent feather flaring with a luminous shine.

And his wings… His wings unfurled, their bent, crumpled state correcting itself in an instant. Feathers that had been torn and battered straightened with an unnaturally perfect precision, regaining their natural, pristine form.

And all of it happened in seconds.

Vanir stretched lazily, rolling his shoulders with an easy, completely unaffected expression. “Ah,” he sighed, flexing his fingers as if testing everything was back in place. “That’s better.”

Sera wasted no time. Before he could even enjoy the moment, she reached down and snapped the anklet back onto his ankle.

The second it locked, everything stopped. The faint glow of power lingering around Vanir’s body flickered out, like a candle being pinched between someone’s fingers.

Vanir let out a sigh as he crossed his arms. “Well that was a fun ten seconds. Still, thank you. Who knows how long it would have taken me to heal the old-fashioned way.”

Sera straightened slowly, returning the key to her robes as her gaze continued to stay fixed on Vanir. “Consider that a gesture of goodwill,” she said quietly. “But do not mistake it for leniency. That was a one-time exception.”

Vanir met her gaze with a mischievous look. “Cover it up all you want, Sera. The fact is that you couldn’t bear to see your little pet project in such a damaged state. And thanks to your generosity, the Deadly Sin of Vainglory is back and better than ever!”

Sera rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed with Vanir’s theatrics, before turning back to Emily. “Come with me. We need to collect Ariadne and the others and move out right away.”

“Are we actually still doing this?” he asked, his voice laced with pure exasperation.

Emily turned back to him, frowning. “What do you mean?”

Vanir gestured vaguely at himself, now fully healed, his golden-brown skin completely unmarred. “I mean, look at me! I’m better. Everyone’s happy now, right? I’m not trying to question Sera’s all-powerful, unquestionable authority or whatever,” he shot a glance at Sera, who simply stared at him, unimpressed, “but is there really a reason to stretch this mess out? Why not just let everyone move on?”

Emily bristled at his casual dismissal of the entire situation. “Vanir—”

Sera held up a hand, stopping her. She studied Vanir carefully, her gaze sharp, weighing something in her mind. After a moment, she nodded slightly.

“You came up here to learn to be good, didn’t you?” Sera said simply.

Vanir narrowed his eyes, clearly sensing something he didn’t like in her tone. “Unfortunately, yes.”

Sera clasped her hands in front of her. “Then you should join us.”

Emily’s head snapped toward Sera in shock. “What?”

Sera glanced at her briefly before turning back to Vanir. “Come with us. You should be there to see why this needs to be done.”

Vanir looked at her as if she had just suggested something profoundly stupid. “You want me to willingly walk back to the people who ripped me to shreds a few hours ago? That sounds like a horrible idea.”

Emily, still reeling from the suggestion, turned to Sera. “Are you sure?” she asked, voice uncertain. “If he comes with us… that means Ariadne and the others could get their hands on him again.”

Sera’s lips curved just slightly, the closest thing to amusement Emily had seen from her all night. “I know you won't let that happen.”

Emily’s let out a soft gasp at those words.

She had spent the whole night feeling like she had shattered every bit of trust Sera had in her, like she had failed so completely that there was no recovering from it. And yet, here Sera was, saying it outright. She still trusted her.

Emily fluttered her wings as she let that settle in. “Alright, then let’s go.”

Sera gave her shoulder a brief, reassuring squeeze before turning back to Vanir. “Well?” she asked expectantly. “Are you coming or not?”

Vanir stared at Sera for a long moment and shrugged his shoulders, “Fine, fine, if you insist.”

Sera didn’t say another word. She simply stepped forward, spreading her six great wings around Emily and Vanir in a single, sweeping motion. The familiar pulse of teleportation magic rippled through the air, and in the next instant, the world around them shifted.

The warmth of Emily’s manor vanished, replaced by the crisp, cool air of the Promenade’s wealthiest district. Ariadne’s estate loomed before them, its pristine white walls and arched windows gleaming under the ever-present glow of Heaven’s light. Even here, Emily could hear the faint echoes of a heated argument spilling from inside. It was faint, muffled by the thick walls, but they could still hear the heated argument happening inside. Emily immediately recognized Celeste’s voice, Ariadne’s girlfriend, and she sounded furious.

Emily wasn’t surprised. Celeste had always been one of the more level-headed people in their social circle, but when she got angry, it was righteous. Emily had no doubt that she had been just as horrified as Emily about what had happened the night before.

Before either of them could comment, the doorbell rang.

The argument inside abruptly cut off, the sudden silence almost eerie in contrast to the shouting just moments before.

A few seconds later, the front door swung open.

Celeste stood in the entryway, still clearly tense from whatever had just transpired, her sharp blue eyes immediately scanning the group outside. Her gaze flicked between Emily and Sera before landing on Vanir, who was still partially covered by Sera’s wing.

The moment she saw him, her expression shifted.

“I knew this would happen,” she muttered, turning her head slightly over her shoulder. “Ariadne, we have guests.”

She then turned back to Vanir, properly taking him in now that Sera had slightly shifted her wing. His appearance was flawless, no bruises, no signs of injury, not a single tear in his clothes. He looked completely fine.

Celeste let out a breath and shook her head slightly. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better,” she said sincerely. “I still can’t believe Ariadne would do something like this.”

Vanir, in typical fashion, waved a dismissive hand. “It’s really no big deal.”

Before Emily could snap at him for once again pretending that the whole situation was nothing, a new voice entered the conversation.

“Aaaaand I’m assuming,” Ariadne said smoothly as she stepped into view, “that you’re all here to discuss last night.”

“Yeah,” Emily said, her voice laced with raw anger. “We are.”

Sera stepped forward. “We need to leave for my office immediately. We’ll discuss things properly there.”

Her voice left no room for argument, firm and decisive, yet there was a softer note as she turned gently toward Celeste. “I’m sorry, Celeste, but I believe it’s best for only those who directly harmed Vanir to be present.”

Celeste shook her head slightly, an expression of regret touching her features. “Unfortunately, Lady Seraphim, that’s practically half the guest list.”

Vanir threw his hands up in an exaggerated gesture. “See? It’s completely unrealistic to punish all of them. Mob mentality is a very real thing. Most of them probably wouldn’t have touched me if they hadn’t seen someone else do it first. Honestly, can’t we just drop this and go home?”

Emily shook her head stubbornly, turning toward Vanir. “If that’s really the case, then we’ll just focus on the main perpetrators: Ariadne for leading the witch hunt, and myself for allowing it all to happen on my watch.”

“You did more than just let it happen,” Celeste said quietly. Her voice seemed calm on the surface but her face told another story. “Or are we all going to pretend Emily didn’t help plan that awful game in the first place? She’s supposed to be the Joybringer, but she was involved in something so incredibly cruel.”

Emily felt the accusation strike her deeply, the pain from it as visceral as any physical wound. Her mouth fell open in shock, words momentarily escaping her as she struggled to grasp how Celeste could think that of her.

“Wait, Celeste, do you actually believe that?” Vanir asked as genuine confusion colored his tone. “Emily was busy dragging me all over Heaven yesterday, desperately and spectacularly failing at finding me even a single friend. Trust me, she wasn’t even on her phone long enough to order takeout, let alone plan some demon piñata party with Ariadne.”

Celeste turned sharply to Ariadne, frustration and doubt clouding her usually composed features. “Please tell me that’s not true.”

Ariadne, who had been perfectly composed up until now, visibly stiffened. She shot Vanir a glare so sharp it could’ve sliced through glass. Then, with all the poise of someone who had just been caught red-hand, she scowled and spat, “You’re such a fucking asshole.”

Emily bristled instantly, stepping defensively in front of Vanir, her voice sharp. “Don’t talk to him like that!”

“Oh, spare me guardian angel,” Ariadne snapped, turning her glare to Emily now. “He’s been talking shit since he got here, but I’m the one who can’t say anything?”

Celeste’s expression faltered, uncertainty washing over her usually poised features. She looked between Emily and Ariadne with clear distress. “Ariadne, please tell me you didn’t lie about that part. That’s serious.”

Ariadne threw up her hands in frustration. “Oh, come on, Celeste! You’re taking his side now?”

“I’m taking the truth’s side,” Celeste responded sharply, the hurt evident in her voice. “Whatever that is. Please just tell me you didn’t lie up there in front of everyone.”

Vanir groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes. “Look, can we just move past this already? I told you all it’s not a big deal—”

Emily spun toward him, anger and worry mixing uncomfortably in her chest. “Vanir, stop trying to dismiss this! It is a big deal, whether you admit it or not!”

Vanir’s eyes narrowed, stubbornness etched clearly on his features. “Emily, I’m fine! Drop it!”

Ariadne’s voice rose, cutting through the room. “This entire disaster happened because you lied, demon! This is your own fault!”

Emily turned back to Ariadne, eyes blazing. “It happened because you incited violence against someone who was defenseless!”

“Defenseless? Are we forgetting what he is?” Ariadne spat back. “Or are you just conveniently ignoring the fact he’s a Deadly Sin?”

“QUIET!”

Sera’s voice rang out, powerful enough to silence everyone in an instant. Emily froze, pulse racing, breath short and shallow as she turned anxiously toward the Head Seraphim.

Sera’s eyes blazed with calm authority, her wings half-opened as if to enforce her presence. “This discussion will continue in my office, and nowhere else. Is that understood?”

Nobody dared challenge her, and an uncomfortably heavy silence settled between them.

“For now,” Sera continued firmly, addressing the group at large, “Emily and Ariadne, you will both be punished accordingly. Everyone else who attended the party last night will receive an official warning.”

Ariadne looked like she wanted to protest, her jaw tightening in outrage. Emily simply nodded quietly, accepting her fate with dignity. She had been prepared for punishment from the moment she’d faced Sera. It was just.

Sera’s gaze briefly softened as it fell upon Celeste. “Celeste, thank you for your honesty. You will not face any repercussions.”

Celeste inclined her head respectfully, stepping back slightly. “Thank you, Lady Seraphim.”

“Now, let’s move. We have much to discuss.”

Sera didn’t waste any further time. Her wings spread out again, larger and more commanding now, sweeping around Emily, Ariadne, and Vanir in one swift motion. Emily blinked, and before her next heartbeat, they were standing in the familiar calm of Sera’s office.

The Head Seraphim took her place behind the wide, pristine desk, a quiet authority settling over her features. Emily’s nerves coiled tightly in her chest, and she found herself shifting closer to Vanir without thinking. Ariadne stood at a slight distance, arms folded tightly, chin raised defiantly.

Sera clasped her hands on her desk, her clear eyes moving calmly between them. “I’ve already heard Emily’s perspective,” she began, her voice controlled and impartial. “Now I’d like to hear yours, Ariadne.”

Ariadne didn’t hesitate, her gaze flicking briefly toward Vanir before returning to Sera. Her posture was poised, confident, and completely unapologetic. “My perspective is pretty simple. Vanir lied about who he was to sneak into my party.”

Emily felt a pulse of frustration tightening her throat, but she forced herself to remain quiet.

“Why would he do that?” Ariadne continued, voice unwavering. “It’s obvious. He’s a Deadly Sin, a demon from Hell, he was trying to corrupt souls. And what better place to do that than at a gathering of Heaven’s nicest and most sociable angels?” Ariadne’s voice grew stronger, the righteousness in it clear. “The second I realized who he really was, I knew I had to act quickly. So, yes, I pretended I planned it all as a game. I did that so the other angels wouldn’t panic, or worse, think that I’d been careless enough to let a demon walk into my home.”

Sera listened carefully, her expression giving nothing away. When Ariadne paused, the Head Seraphim calmly leaned forward, pressing gently but firmly. “If you were concerned about his presence, why didn’t you just remove him from the party?”

Ariadne lifted her chin, irritation flickering across her eyes. “By that point, he’d already made friends with several of my guests. If I’d just thrown him out, some angels might have followed him. Who knows what he might have done then, or what kind of influence he might have had on them? No, I had a responsibility to expose him for what he truly was.” She gave Vanir a scornful glance. “If some of my guests decided to enact justice because they lost people dear to them due to the sin he embodies, they deserved that right.”

Emily’s stomach turned violently at Ariadne’s justification. Her fingers twitched at her sides, her heart aching as she tried to process how casually Ariadne could speak about such cruelty. Her wings shifted slightly, an involuntary reaction born from the tension gripping her.

“That’s not why he lied, Ariadne,” Emily said quietly, though her voice held a painful strength beneath it. “He wasn’t trying to sneak into your party or trick your friends. He wasn’t trying to corrupt anyone. He lied because he didn’t want to ruin your night.”

Ariadne turned toward Emily sharply, eyes narrowing. “Emily, that’s naive. He manipulated you—”

“No,” Emily interrupted softly but firmly, shaking her head. “You don’t understand. Vanir didn’t even want to go to your party. He wasn’t planning to come at all. He only did because I practically begged him. I insisted because...” Her voice broke slightly, her throat aching with unshed tears. She swallowed them down, forcing herself to continue. “Because I really believed in you. I believed that Heaven would do good. And that was my mistake.”

Ariadne faltered, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features briefly before her expression hardened once more. But Emily pressed on before Ariadne could speak.

“Did you know I was too scared to even take him to the doctors after you all hurt him?” Emily said, her voice trembling openly now. “Because I was terrified of what they might do to him. People who swore an oath to heal, in Heaven! I couldn’t trust my own home to treat him with basic decency. Does that sound right to you?”

A heavy silence descended on the office, Emily’s words lingering in the air like a harsh truth no one wanted to confront. Vanir shifted slightly beside her, clearly uncomfortable with her vulnerability but remaining uncharacteristically quiet. Sera’s eyes softened with deep concern, her usually serene expression marred by a shadow of worry.

Even Ariadne hesitated, her confident posture wavering as uncertainty flickered across her face. She took a deep breath, composing herself with visible effort before speaking again, her tone noticeably gentler now.

Ariadne drew a careful, deliberate breath before finally responding, her voice softer, measured carefully. “Emily, you just don’t understand the kind of threat he’s capable of. You haven’t seen how bad people can truly be.” She paused, looking away briefly, collecting her thoughts before meeting Emily’s eyes once again. “I never meant to hurt you. I was trying to protect you. I wanted to show you exactly what kind of monster he really is before he could hurt you or anyone else.”

Emily stared at Ariadne, her vision blurring as tears welled in her eyes. “If he’s really such a monster, then why didn’t he fight back?”

Her words lingered, heavy and unanswered, in the quiet space between them. Ariadne’s mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. For once, the usually self-assured angel seemed genuinely uncertain.

Vanir cleared his throat quietly, interrupting the painful silence that had settled around them. “Can I say something?”

Sera raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical, but she nodded slightly. “If you must.”

Vanir glanced briefly at Emily before shifting his gaze toward Ariadne. To Emily’s genuine surprise, there wasn’t any anger in his expression, no irritation, just something oddly reflective. Almost resigned.

“Look,” Vanir began calmly, “I actually agree with Ariadne.”

Emily turned sharply, eyes wide with disbelief. Ariadne’s own expression mirrored Emily’s shock, and even Sera looked momentarily unsettled.

He continued, unfazed by their reactions. “I’ve been here in Heaven for what, barely a day? And honestly, it’s kind of soft.” He shrugged, almost casually, as though the entire ordeal hadn’t affected him in the slightest. “If what I saw yesterday really is the absolute worst you angels have to offer, then maybe Ariadne’s got a point. Emily, you really haven’t seen how bad people can be.”

Emily’s chest tightened at that, as the confusion and hurt she was feeling tangled together into one nasty emotion. She couldn’t understand why Vanir was agreeing with Ariadne, especially after everything she’d done to him. But before Emily could say anything, Vanir raised a hand slightly, signaling for patience.

“At the end of the day,” he said, looking directly at Emily now, “is this really worth the argument? Ariadne is your friend, and a pretty good one at that. She literally went out of her way to cover for you showing up late, not bringing a gift, and inviting a Deadly Sin to her party.” He tilted his head slightly, a faint smile forming across his face, though it didn’t fully reach his eyes. “Your reputation as the Joybringer is still safe. Nothing’s been lost here.”

Emily shook her head faintly as her mind raced for answers. How could he possibly simplify it so easily? Didn’t he realize how deeply wrong everything had gone?

Vanir exhaled lightly, his voice softer, oddly reassuring despite his words. “Look, I didn’t exactly enjoy getting beaten into the floor, but it’s over now. Ariadne got her little revenge kick or whatever it was she needed. Justice served, lesson learned. Let’s just call it done and go home.”

Emily stared at him, struggling to reconcile the calm, nonchalant way he spoke with the broken, battered demon she’d cradled in her arms hours earlier. It didn’t make sense.

She glanced toward Ariadne, who appeared equally uncertain, her eyes narrowed suspiciously, as though trying to determine if Vanir was mocking her or genuinely forgiving what she’d done. Sera, for her part, remained silent, her expression carefully neutral, though a subtle look of curiosity danced in her eyes.

“Vanir…” Emily finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, frustration and helplessness threaded painfully through her words. “You don’t have to do this.”

He tilted his head toward her slightly, emerald eyes softening. “Do what, Emily?” His voice was gentle now, as though speaking to someone much younger, much more naive. “Move on?”

Emily opened her mouth to protest, to argue, to try once more, but no words came.

She didn’t know what else she could say, didn’t know how else to convince them all that none of this was right.

In that heavy silence, Vanir pushed himself off the wall, standing straighter and glancing between Sera and Ariadne with quiet, composed expectation. “So, are we done here?”

Emily felt something deep inside her crack.

She didn’t understand. She couldn’t understand.

Vanir was standing there, brushing everything off like it was some minor inconvenience, like it hadn’t mattered at all. He was acting like what Ariadne had done, what all of them had done, was just some harmless prank. An embarrassing little incident that they could all laugh about later.

But it wasn’t.

She could still hear it. The dull, wet thuds of fists and feet against flesh. The sickening crack of his horn splitting. The murmur of angels cheering, whispering their twisted justifications as they brutalized someone who couldn’t even fight back.

And Vanir was silent.

She stared at him, struggling to find something, anything, behind those bright green eyes that would tell her he cared. That it had hurt him the way it had hurt her.

But there was nothing.

Just an easy smirk. That same confidence he always wore, like a mask he never took off.

Emily’s hands clenched at her sides, her nails pressing into her palms hard enough to sting.

She couldn’t let this go.

Before she could speak, though, Sera finally broke the silence.

“No,” she said simply.

Vanir turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “No?”

Sera’s expression was unreadable as she regarded him. For a long moment, she simply studied him, her stone grey eyes flickering with a quiet intensity.

Then, without breaking eye contact, she spoke again.

“Vanir,” she said, her voice even but unwavering, “why are you protecting her?”

Ariadne stiffened beside them, her sharp blue eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”

Sera didn’t acknowledge her.

Vanir blinked, his smirk twitching slightly as if he wasn’t expecting the question. “Who says I am?”

Sera tilted her head slightly, her wings shifting in slow, deliberate movements behind her. “You just excused everything she did. Everything they did.”

Vanir shrugged. “Because it doesn’t matter.”

“It should matter,” Emily snapped before she could stop herself, her voice coming out sharper than she intended. “It does matter!”

Vanir sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Emily—”

“Stop acting like this was fine!” she yelled, her breath shaking. “Like what they did was normal!”

“Well, in their defense, I am a demon. If they wanted to kick a kitten, then I’d be concerned—”

“That’s not funny!” Emily practically shouted, wings flaring behind her.

Vanir’s smirk disappeared. “Are you okay?”

Emily’s throat felt tight, her chest aching with a deep frustration she didn’t know how to release.

She turned sharply toward Sera. “You get it, right?” she asked desperately. “You understand why this can’t just end like this?”

Sera met her gaze evenly. “Of course I do.”

Sera turned her full attention toward Ariadne, the steady weight of her gaze impossible to ignore. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet and measured, each word chosen with careful precision.

“Ariadne,” Sera began calmly, “you’re not wrong to fear a demon, especially a Deadly Sin. It is entirely understandable, and precisely why Vanir is here under strict supervision. Emily was appointed specifically to ensure he remains under control, and the anklet on his ankle was not simply decoration; it was designed explicitly to suppress his powers.”

Ariadne lifted her chin slightly, though a faint uncertainty flickered through her eyes. “Exactly,” she said cautiously, as if unsure where Sera was going with this.

Sera inclined her head slightly. The issue isn’t your caution or even your fear, but rather your decision to take justice into your own hands. You knew very well that Vanir’s presence here was permitted by me. By rallying the guests of your party against him, by inciting violence rather than seeking my guidance or authority, you’ve undermined not only my judgment but my position entirely.”

Emily watched Ariadne closely. For the first time since the conversation began, Ariadne appeared genuinely unsettled. Her posture stiffened, her composure wavering ever so slightly beneath Sera’s quiet intensity.

“Do you not understand the severity of your actions?” Sera pressed softly. “You weren’t merely punishing a demon. You were asserting your own judgment above mine. In your actions, you declared yourself the arbiter of justice, deciding that you alone knew better how to handle this threat.”

Ariadne opened her mouth to speak but hesitated, visibly struggling with Sera’s words.

Sera’s voice softened even further, though the firm authority in it remained unmistakable. “Tell me, Ariadne, would you not agree that believing you alone had the right to deliver justice, justice that is mine to dispense, is incredibly prideful?”

Emily saw it. She felt it. The realization sinking in, the unspoken fear creeping at the edges of Ariadne’s mind.

She knew what Sera was implying.

That she, in her act of defiance, had embodied the very Sin she had claimed to be fighting against.

And in Heaven, there was no greater stain than that.

Sera maintained her composure, patiently awaiting an answer as Ariadne fought to find her voice. Beside Emily, Vanir stood silent, watching with guarded interest, his casual expression replaced briefly by genuine curiosity.

Ariadne finally spoke, her voice quieter, subdued. “That… was not my intent.”

Sera’s expression didn’t shift, her gaze steady and unwavering. “Yet that was precisely the result.”

Emily held her breath, the weight of the room pressing heavily against her chest. She felt strangely validated, yet still deeply unsettled. She glanced again at Vanir, wishing she could decipher the thoughts behind his mask of cool indifference, wishing he would finally show some sign that he understood why she couldn’t let this go.

“Now that we have established why what you did was wrong,” she said evenly, “it is time to discuss consequences.”

Her gaze settled on Ariadne first, unwavering and firm. “Ariadne, you are a Winner. You were chosen for Heaven because of the good you did in your life, the virtues you upheld, the compassion and joy you were meant to bring to others. And yet, last night you weaponized that influence to cause harm. You did not act as someone deserving of the privileges afforded to you.”

Ariadne’s breath hitched slightly, her blue eyes narrowing, but she said nothing. She could sense where this was going. “Because of that,” Sera continued, voice calm but carrying an unmistakable authority, “you will be stripped of those privileges.”

A stunned silence followed.

“You will no longer live in luxury,” Sera stated. “For the next year, you will work for what you have, just as any other Heavenborn must. You will earn your place in society through labor and contribution. Your status as a Winner is effectively revoked.”

Ariadne’s mouth parted slightly, shock flickering over her features. “Wait, you can’t be serious—”

“I am serious,” Sera cut in smoothly. “You seem to have forgotten why you were chosen to be here. So you will learn firsthand what it means to deserve the things you have been given. After this meeting, I will show you to your new housing. You need to know your place.”

Ariadne stared at Sera in utter disbelief, her eyes wide and unblinking. It was as though the words hadn’t fully registered yet, as if her mind simply refused to accept the harsh reality of what she had just been told.

In all her years in Heaven, Emily had never heard of a Winner losing their privileges. It was something fundamentally unheard of. A concept as alien as letting a Deadly Sin past the gates. And yet, here was Sera, pronouncing judgment as naturally as if she was discussing the weather.

Ariadne’s face turned pale, the delicate composure she always wore beginning to crumble visibly. Her mouth opened several times, trying desperately to shape some sort of protest, but no words came out. For once, the self-assured angel looked genuinely shaken, fragile beneath the weight of Sera’s verdict.

“You…you can’t be serious,” Ariadne finally managed, her voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. “You’re stripping me of my status? That’s never happened before. You wouldn’t—”

“I just have,” Sera interrupted quietly, her voice unwavering but not cruel. “Your actions were unprecedented, Ariadne. Your punishment must match their severity. And trust me, there are always worse punishments.”

Ariadne seemed to shrink under Sera’s calm gaze, her shoulders trembling slightly as realization settled in. Her wings drooped subtly, as though the weight of the punishment pressed them downward. Emily could see the disbelief turning quickly into quiet desperation and anger, an internal storm raging just beneath Ariadne’s carefully controlled exterior.

Finally, Ariadne drew herself upright, taking a shaky breath. Her eyes flashed defiantly for a split second, an instinctive spark of rebellion, before she quickly subdued it. She knew, as did everyone in the room, that fighting back would only make things worse.

“Fine,” Ariadne muttered bitterly, her voice low and thick with wounded pride. “If that’s your decision, then so be it.”

Sera nodded, satisfied, before turning her gaze to Emily. Emily immediately stiffened, the intensity of Sera’s pale eyes making her breath hitch softly. She’d already braced herself for punishment, she had known from the moment she admitted her mistakes that there would be consequences. But she stood firm, refusing to let fear show on her face.

“Emily,” Sera began carefully, her tone gentler now, “your actions last night were unjust. You made an error in judgment, and you allowed harm to come to someone under your care.”

Emily gulped, lowering her gaze momentarily as she felt guilt press heavily against her chest.

“However,” Sera continued, her voice softening further, “your actions afterward clearly demonstrate that you understood your mistake. You immediately took responsibility, protected Vanir, and sought to correct your error as best you could.”

Emily’s heart quickened slightly, daring to lift her eyes again. Hope stirred faintly in her chest.

Sera offered her a faint, reassuring nod. “Because of that, you will not face severe consequences. Instead, you will be let off with a formal warning, provided that you continue to fulfill your initial promise to watch over and guide Vanir during his time here.”

Relief surged through Emily, mingling with gratitude. She exhaled shakily, nodding quickly. “Of course. I’ll do everything I can to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

Sera’s expression softened a bit further, almost imperceptibly. “I trust you will.”

Emily felt some of the heavy burden lift from her shoulders, though not entirely. The punishment for Ariadne still lingered, stark and unprecedented. Even as relief flooded her veins, Emily couldn’t help but glance toward Ariadne again, seeing the bitterness, humiliation, and anger simmering quietly beneath her composed exterior.

Beside Emily, Vanir remained silent, his posture oddly tense despite the casual façade he wore. For once, he wasn’t smirking. Instead, he watched Ariadne with quiet contemplation.

“Good.” Sera stepped back, her calm composure settling fully back into place as her eyes swept across them all one last time. “This conversation is finished. Ariadne, you will follow me now. Emily, Vanir, you are dismissed. I trust you’ll take your responsibilities more seriously from here.”

Sera stood from her seat with the same effortless grace she always carried, her wings shifting slightly as she turned toward the door. Without another word, she strode out of the room, leaving behind the quiet weight of her final judgment.

Ariadne followed a moment later, her movements stiff, her shoulders held taut with barely contained resentment. As she passed Emily, she cast a slow, deliberate glare in her direction. It wasn’t just cold, it was scathing. A silent declaration that whatever friendship they had was gone.

Emily barely managed to hold her ground under that stare. Something deep inside her twisted uncomfortably, but she said nothing. She let Ariadne walk past her without a word, without trying to stop her.

The door shut behind them.

For a moment, Emily just stood there, staring blankly at the empty space where Ariadne had been, trying to understand why her chest felt so hollow.

This was justice. This was what was supposed to happen. Ariadne had done something wrong, and now she was facing the consequences. That was the way things worked. That was the way things had to work.

And yet, all she felt was empty.

She had lost another friend. Another person she had cared for.

That thought weighed on her mind far more than she wanted to admit.

As Emily stepped out into the open expanse of Heaven, Vanir fell into step beside her, his usual gait unchanged despite everything that had just happened. The sky above was its usual endless wash of soft golds and whites, but the air felt heavier, the weight of unspoken words settling between them like a storm that had yet to break.

Then, without warning, Vanir broke it. “So, was it worth it?”

“What?”

He gave her a pointed look. “Your little kick for justice back there,” he clarified, waving a hand vaguely in the direction of Sera’s office. “Did it feel good? Do you feel better now?”

Emily hesitated, taking in the sight of him. He looked completely fine, his body whole, his wounds gone, even his clothes were pristine. There was no lingering evidence of what had happened, no lasting scars. He was okay.

And he was going to stay okay.

That thought caused a warm feeling to stir inside her, and before she could stop herself, she smiled. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I do.”

Vanir let out another long sigh, dragging a hand through his hair in clear exasperation. “You really don’t get it, do you?” His tone wasn’t mocking this time, just tired. “Nobody won from this, Emily. The situation was over the second I healed. Everyone was happy. And now Ariadne isn’t. And worst of all, you’re not.”

Emily blinked at him, taken aback. He seemed genuinely more upset by her pain just now than everything he went through last night.

“I should’ve never agreed to come to that stupid party. Then none of this would’ve happened, and you wouldn’t have suffered too.”

“No, Vanir,” she said softly. “You’re the one who doesn’t get it. I am happy.”

He tilted his head slightly, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Emily, did you see that look Ariadne gave you? She—”

“I am happy,” Emily repeated, and for the first time, she realized she actually meant it. There was still an ache in her chest, still the weight of everything she had lost this morning, but beneath it there was a kind of peace. “Sure, I might have lost Ariadne, but honestly? I deserved it.”

Vanir narrowed his eyes slightly. “You deserved it? For what?”

Emily’s cheeks turned slightly gold, her embarrassment creeping in despite her attempt to appear casual. She brushed a stray curl behind her ear, averting her gaze just briefly. “Well, yesterday I was… kind of super mean to you.”

Vanir blinked at her, the disbelief clear as day in his eyes. “Wait, seriously? That was your definition of being mean?”

Emily nodded solemnly. “Duh, I was yelling, acting super sarcastic toward you, and,” she lowered her voice to a sheepish whisper, “I even swore at you once.”

For a moment Vanir stared at her, clearly unsure if she was joking or not. Then, slowly, his mouth curved into an amused smile. “Oh no, how did I ever survive?”

But Emily didn’t catch the sarcasm. She just nodded earnestly and smiled. “I know, it was awful. But I promise I’ll be way nicer to you from now on.”

Vanir looked at her like she had just said something completely ridiculous. “I don’t get it,” he admitted. “Why does that make it better? What makes this justice different from Ariadne’s? At the end of the day, the only thing spread was more pain.”

Emily took a moment to consider her answer, letting the question settle fully before responding.

“Because real justice doesn’t stop at punishment. It’s supposed to make things better. Ariadne only wanted to hurt you because she was angry, but this was never about hurting her back. It was about making sure this doesn’t happen again. Just knowing that Ariadne is learning a lesson, knowing that something like that won’t ever happen to you again, especially not on my watch, makes this more than worth it in my eyes.

Vanir opened his mouth slightly, like he wanted to argue or question her more, but ultimately he just sighed before shaking his head.

“You’re so weird, Emily,” he murmured softly, his irritation fading to a quietly affectionate demeanor.

Emily smiled brighter, gently nudging his shoulder as they continued down the hall together. “I prefer the term hopeful, thank you very much.”

Vanir glanced up at her again, letting out a quiet chuckle as he finally relented. “Fine, hopeful it is.”

Ariadne had never truly experienced the silence of Heaven before.

Her afterlife had always been filled with warmth, with music, with laughter. With voices calling her name, inviting her places, treating her as someone important. There had always been movement, conversation, life.

Now, standing in front of the building that was apparently her new home, all of that seemed impossibly distant.

The place was… humble, to say the least.

The exterior was plain, the kind of dull white stone that blended in too easily with the rest of the buildings in this part of the city, the places meant for Heavenborns who hadn’t earned any real status yet.

They were lucky. They were literally born into paradise. She earned her way up here, and now she apparently lost all the rewards that came with that.

The door was unadorned, the windows were small. No grand entrance, no polished marble, no intricate stained glass reflecting the celestial light of Heaven.

Just… a house. Functional.

“Is this really my life now?”

Ariadne didn’t realize she’d said that out loud until Sera answered.

“It is,” the Head Seraphim said simply, standing beside her with her hands folded neatly in front of her. “If you want a better home, you can always work for one. Many jobs pay well enough to afford something nicer.”

Ariadne barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but she bit back her retort. She knew by now that arguing with Sera wouldn’t get her anywhere, especially not after what had just happened in her office. So instead, she just stood there, staring at the dull little building as resentment simmered low in her chest.

Sera took one last glance at her, then teleported away without another word, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

Ariadne let out a breath and finally rolled her eyes.

This was his fault.

How could nobody see that? How could Emily not see that? She had been trying to protect her. Trying to protect all of them. Vanir had come into her home. He lied to her guests. Smiled and laughed and played along like he belonged, like he had any right to be there. He had manipulated Emily, tricked her into fighting his battles, made her feel guilty for what had happened. And yet, she was the one being punished while he got to walk away untouched, free to keep spreading his poison.

Her fingers curled into fists at her sides.

She hated him.

With a sharp inhale, she forced herself to push the door open, stepping inside before the anger could consume her completely.

The moment she did, a familiar voice greeted her.

“Ariadne.”

She blinked, looking up to see Celeste standing in the middle of the small common area, waiting for her.

Her girlfriend’s arms were crossed, and there was a tired look in her eyes.

Ariadne let the door click shut behind her, the silence stretching uncomfortably between them. Celeste stood in the center of the small common space, watching her carefully with a poised posture.

Ariadne barely managed to look at her before sighing heavily, her shoulders sagging in exhaustion. “Just get it over with,” she muttered.

Celeste tilted her head slightly. “Get what over with?”

Ariadne scoffed, dragging a hand down her face. “Oh, come on, Celeste. Just rub it in already.”

Celeste’s eye narrowed as her lips pressed together in confusion. “Ariadne, I’m your girlfriend. Why would I ever do something like that?”

Ariadne hesitated. The words caught her off guard more than they should have. She had been bracing herself for disappointment, for an I told you so, but not this.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice quieter now.

Without thinking, she rushed forward and wrapped her arms tightly around Celeste, pressing her face into her shoulder. Celeste didn’t hesitate, immediately returning the hug, her arms steady and grounding.

For the first time since this whole nightmare started, Ariadne let herself lean into it. She didn’t speak, didn’t move, just stood there, feeling Celeste’s warmth, letting it chase away some of the lingering bitterness curling in her stomach.

After a long moment, Celeste’s voice came, gentle but firm. “Why did you do it?”

“You won’t get it,” she murmured.

Celeste’s hand moved slowly up and down her back, comforting. “Then help me understand.”

Ariadne swallowed hard, voice tightening. “You’re just like Emily. You were born in Heaven. You’ve never seen how selfish people can be. How ugly and rotten Vanity really is as a sin.”

Celeste pulled back slightly, enough to look at her properly. “That sounded personal.”

Ariadne stiffened. Her fingers curled slightly against Celeste’s back before she forced herself to relax again. “It is personal.”

Celeste frowned. “What could you possibly have against vanity specifically?” she asked, searching Ariadne’s face for answers. “He’s not even one of the seven. It’s not like he’s Pride.”

Ariadne let out a bitter laugh as she stepped back. “He’s the closest thing to it.”

Celeste studied her, eyes narrowing slightly. “What are you talking about?”

Ariadne’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. Her chest tightened painfully, anger curling like a snake around her ribs, old and festering. “You don’t understand the things people do for fame. For glory. For people to look at them and say their name.”

Celeste’s eyes widened with realization. She reached up, brushing a strand of blue hair from Ariadne’s face. “Ari… that wasn’t your fault.”

“Exactly,” she whispered bitterly, her voice trembling. “It wasn’t my fault.”

Her fingers curled around Celeste’s tighter.

“It was his.”

Chapter Text

Emily could barely contain herself as she hurried down the hall, clipboard in hand, her shoes tapping excitedly against the marble floor. A thin ribbon of sunlight was just beginning to filter through the stained glass windows of her estate, scattering soft colors across the walls, but she had been up long before that, refining schedules, adjusting lesson plans, making sure every detai​​l was perfect.

Today was the first official day of Vanir’s redemption.

She had waited so long for this moment, something tangible, something structured. Not chaos or emotion or apologies, but actual practical progress. And she was going to make sure it was the best possible start.

She reached Vanir’s door and threw it open without hesitation.

“Good morning!” she beamed, practically bouncing into the room. “Are you ready for your very first day of being good? I’ve got a whole plan set up. Lessons, some hands-on experiences, even a few fun activities to keep things balanced. It’s going to be super duper fun! Are you ready?”

She barely finished her sentence before a soft rustle came from the bed.

Vanir, rather than being asleep under the covers as expected, threw up the blanket with a dramatic flourish, revealing himself not only fully dressed, but seated cross-legged at the end of the bed with a tray balanced in front of him. The scent of vanilla and honey filled the room.

On the tray were two neatly plated servings of golden cloud pancakes, dusted with sugar, that had honey nectar syrup pooling gently on the sides. Alongside that delicious treat, a delicate fruit arrangement spelled out the word “JOY” in shining slices.

“Is that—?”

“Your favorite,” Vanir confirmed smugly, gesturing toward the tray like a magician revealing his grand finale. “Of course I’m excited. It’s the start of my sparkling journey toward moral perfection. I was so enthusiastic I woke up before the sun even thought about rising. It gave me time to put this together.”

Emily stared at the food, then at him. “How did you know this was my favorite?”

Vanir grinned, resting his chin in his palm. “Had to test my future vision somehow. Figured I might as well use it in the way that’s tastiest for both of us.”

Emily stared at him another second, mouth opening slightly in disbelief before letting out a laugh.

Bright, happy, completely unexpected laughter that spilled out before she could stop it. The clipboard sagged in her hands as the rigid structure she’d carried into the room melted away.

She walked over to the bed and sat beside him, still grinning, still trying to figure out how this was the same Vanir who had spent yesterday rolling his eyes at everything good.

“Okay,” she said, reaching for her portion, “this… this is a pretty great start.”

Vanir smirked, nudging her tray closer. “Told you I’d try.”

Emily took a bite of the cloud pancake, soft and warm and somehow exactly the right amount of sweet, then turned slightly toward him, still chewing thoughtfully.

“This is amazing,” she said after swallowing, eyes wide with genuine surprise. “But… why did you need to test your future vision in the first place?”

Vanir didn’t miss a beat. “Well, the anklet does strip my powers, remember? I just wanted to make sure the crystal ball still acts as a proper conduit like we planned. No point in setting up shop if it’s just going to flicker and fizzle like a broken lightbulb.”

Emily narrowed her eyes at him. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”

He looked up at her, one brow arched innocently as he took a bite of his own breakfast. “Then what did you mean?”

Emily set her tray down on the nightstand and turned toward him more fully, her clipboard forgotten at her side. “Vanir… are you really still planning on using your future vision to start a very public fortune telling service? One where you look at people’s potentially very private futures and advise them on life-altering decisions?”

Vanir didn’t hesitate. “Of course, that was locked in with Sera before I even met you.”

“I know, I know. She told me. And I thought it sounded like a good fit at the time but—”

“But?”

Emily reached forward and gently took his hands in hers. They were still warm from the plates, the pads of his fingers soft and callused in the places where he’d clearly handled more than just magic.

“It’s not your fault,” she said softly. “But the people of Heaven… they’re not as accepting as we thought. You’ve seen it now. Firsthand. Maybe it’s not the best idea to be so visible right away. At least not yet.”

Vanir stared at her, the confusion in his expression sharpening into something more guarded.

“I’m not saying don’t use your powers,” Emily added quickly. “I’m just saying… maybe there’s a better way to do it. A quieter way. One where you can still help people, but you’re not front and center in the Promenade. Look, you like analogies, right? Think of it like a restaurant. Not everyone works out front, greeting guests and taking orders. Some people are behind the scenes. They’re the cooks, the ones who make everything happen, even if no one sees their faces. And honestly?”

She picked up her fork again, took another bite of pancake, and smiled. “You’d make an amazing cook. These are seriously incredible.”

Vanir looked at her for a long moment, her left hand still wrapped around his. Then he smiled. It was soft at first, but grew with that familiar spark in his eyes, the kind of grin that could make someone jump off a cliff if he asked.

“Emily,” he said, his voice warm, “I appreciate the concern, really. But I’m not going into hiding.”

Her heart sank just a little. She pulled her hands back gently, fingers curling around the edges of her clipboard that was resting on her lap. “That’s not what I meant,” she said, trying to keep her tone calm. “I’m not saying you have to vanish or shut yourself away. But this…” She glanced at him again, her expression pleading. “This is just the safer option.”

Vanir shrugged casually, picking up a piece of fruit with his fork and shoving it into his mouth. “I know. But I want to work with people. Face to face. That’s the whole point, isn’t it? Redemption, learning, growing, how am I supposed to do that if I’m tucked away in some quiet corner doing who knows what? Besides, you’ll be there to protect me, won’t you?”

Emily stared at him, her lips parting in protest. “That’s not a good enough reason to tempt fate. You’re still not seeing how serious this is. I can’t be around you all the time.”

Vanir raised an eyebrow, the playfulness in his expression dimming.

“What if something happens when I’m not there? What if someone lashes out again and they don’t stop? I don’t want to see you go through that again.”

Her hands gripped the clipboard a little tighter.

“This is just… the safer option, Vanir. Please.”

Vanir fell silent for a moment as his eyes lowered to the food on his plate. Emily watched him carefully, her fingers gripping the clipboard so firmly that it began to tremble slightly. She waited, praying silently that he’d see reason, that he’d understand why this was so important.

He didn’t.

“I can’t,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, Emily. I can’t say yes to that.”

Her chest clenched. She reached forward without thinking, gripping his shoulders tightly. “Why not?” she asked, the panic creeping into her voice. “Vanir, you know what they can do to you now. After everything that happened, after how badly they hurt you, why would you still want to go through with this?”

“Because I know exactly what I am,” he said, his emerald eyes locked earnestly on hers. “I’m the Deadly Sin of Vanity. I was created to stand in the spotlight, to thrive on attention. Admiration is what I live for. Whether it’s Lucifer’s approval, Charlie’s affection, or the awe and envy of the entire population of Hell itself, all I’ve ever wanted is to be seen. To be noticed. To be remembered.”

“You put me in a cubicle four levels down from Sera, answering emails and scheduling visions in between lunch breaks and coffee deliveries?” He gave a hollow little laugh. “That’s not going to satisfy me. That’s going to drive me insane.”

Emily’s eyebrows knitted together, her heart aching with concern. “Isn’t… isn’t that a good thing, though? If you’re not in the spotlight, maybe you’ll be able to control those impulses better.”

Vanir didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached out slowly, fingers brushing through a strand of Emily’s hair where it had fallen forward over her shoulder. His touch was light, absentminded almost, but there was something oddly gentle about the way he twisted the curl loosely around his finger.

“That’s not how it works,” he said softly, not looking at her as he spoke. “If I’m shoved into some office with no one to see me, no one to react… I’ll just get bored. And when I get bored, I do stupid things. Elaborate things. Things that end with fireworks and headlines and Sera dragging me back in by my beautiful tail.”

“Being in the spotlight is just… fundamental to me,” he said in an oddly honest tone. “The same way spreading joy is to you. You need people to smile. I need them to look.”

Vanir scooted a little closer, still twirling her hair slowly, and for a second, he just looked at her like he was trying to find the right words in her expression.

“Imagine if someone told you to become an exorcist and start tearing through demons. You wouldn’t exactly enjoy that job, would you?”

Emily recoiled visibly at his words. The very thought of wielding divine power like a weapon made her sick. She knew that descending to Earth just to hunt down demons was a necessary job to keep humans safe, but just the thought of spreading pain instead of comfort filled her with an instinctive revulsion that crawled beneath her skin.

“No,” she whispered immediately, her voice small and strained. “I—I could never do something like that. It goes against everything I believe. Everything I was created to be.”

She focused her gaze onto her hands, desperately trying to push the disturbing image from her mind. All she had ever wanted was to bring joy, to spread compassion and kindness. That was who she was. The thought of her taking a life… It was just too much.

She felt Vanir’s gentle fingers brush softly through her hair, the comforting touch pulling her out of her thoughts. Blinking, she looked up to find him watching her carefully, his eyes warm and understanding.

“That’s exactly what I mean, Emily,” Vanir said gently. “You can’t just take away the core of who someone is and expect it to end well. But the good news is that we don’t have to. If I’m out there with them, seeing their support and hearing their praise, that might be enough. Enough to satisfy that craving before it gets out of hand.”

Vanir leaned closer once more, his expression shifting from seriousness into one of excited wonder, his eyes brightening with genuine enthusiasm.

“Just imagine it, Emily. Think of how impossible it sounds. A Deadly Sin, Vanity itself, using his power for good, being celebrated not for causing suffering but for bringing hope. Isn’t that amazing?”

Emily stared at Vanir, quietly absorbing the sincerity radiating from his eyes. They were filled with so much genuine enthusiasm, so much pure, unfiltered hope. It was bright enough to illuminate the entire room, bright enough to chase away even the most stubborn shadows of doubt that clung stubbornly to the corners of her mind.

It took Emily’s breath away.

How had she ever believed he was lying when they first met? She remembered that moment so clearly, the suspicion, the mistrust. Even worse, she remembered the dark little part of her that had wanted him to fail, just so she could be vindicated, just so she could smugly declare she’d been right all along.

How petty she had been. How small.

Now, looking at him, seeing that unguarded excitement, that genuine eagerness to do something worthwhile, Emily felt a heavy sense of guilt press against her heart. He had faced more cruelty in one day than she had in her entire existence. After everything the angels at the Promenade had thrown at him, after every vicious word and every bruise that had marked his skin, he still carried this optimism. He still believed in himself, in the possibility that he could be more.

How could someone who had been hurt so badly still be so hopeful? She didn’t understand it.

She felt her resistance begin to crumble. Emily sighed softly, a small, reluctant smile finally tugging at her lips.

“Fine,” she conceded, though she tried to make her voice firm and cautious, hiding the fondness creeping into her tone. “Just for today. We’ll try your way, Vanir. We’ll see how it goes.”

Vanir’s smile widened triumphantly, the brightness in his eyes intensifying, and Emily quickly held up a finger in warning.

“But, the very second I sense you’re in danger, we’re heading straight to Sera’s office for a safer job. No arguments.”

Vanir opened his mouth, but Emily raised a hand quickly.

“I’m serious. Your safety is always going to be my top priority. I don’t care how bright the spotlight is, I’m not letting it burn you.”

Vanir’s eyes sparkled, that enthusiastic energy bubbling back into him like a surge of electricity. “Well, what are we waiting for, then?” he asked brightly. “We have the entire day ahead of us, and I, for one, can’t wait to amaze and dazzle the good citizens of Heaven with my spectacular benevolence.”

Emily blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his sheer excitement. It was infectious, spreading through her veins like warmth. She stood a little straighter, pulling her clipboard close to her chest as she drew in a steadying breath, reminding herself that she was the Joybringer, this was exactly what she was supposed to do. Guide him. Protect him. And yes, even push him toward the best version of himself he could be.

Vanir was right. They had an entire day ahead of them. They had possibilities, opportunities, and even with all the uncertainties lingering beneath her calm façade, Emily suddenly felt ready to face them. Confidence straightened her spine and brought a warm smile to her lips.

“You know what?” she said decisively, meeting his excited gaze with her own newfound determination. “You’re absolutely right. We’re going to kill it today.”

Before Vanir had a chance to reply, Emily stepped forward impulsively and wrapped her arms around him in a bright, warm hug, pulling him close in one fluid movement.

With a single thought, the world shifted seamlessly, and the quiet comfort of Vanir’s room was replaced instantly by the bright, bustling atmosphere of the Promenade. The chatter of angels going about their day filled her ears, and golden sunlight warmed her skin. Emily released Vanir gently, stepping back with a bright, triumphant smile.

Vanir, however, immediately took several startled steps backward, nearly stumbling in his attempt to create distance. His cheeks were pretty much entirely black as he tried, and failed, to regain his composure.

“Emily! You could have given me a warning first!”

“Oh, relax, Vanir. It was just a little hug! We do that all the time in Heaven.”

Vanir raised an eyebrow as the confusion he was feeling made itself known on his face.

“Really?”

Emily tilted her head, genuinely amused now. “Of course!” she said easily, stepping a little closer as her eyes twinkled with gentle mischief. “Why, Vanir? Do you want another one?”

He swallowed visibly, eyes darting around as if looking for someone to confirm or deny her claim. “Well… I mean, if it’s normal, then”

Before he could finish his sentence, Emily leaned forward once more, throwing her arms around him in another warm hug. Vanir stiffened briefly beneath her embrace, clearly unsure how to respond to such open affection. But Emily simply smiled, feeling a rush of satisfaction at seeing the usually composed demon reduced to an uncertain mess with nothing more than kindness.

When they pulled apart, Vanir’s blush had softened slightly, replaced by a shy, uncertain smile that made Emily’s heart flutter lightly in her chest.

“Okay,” she said brightly, giving him an encouraging nod. “Now, let’s make today count.”

Vanir cleared his throat as they pulled apart, his cheeks still faintly flushed with that dark, telltale hue. He kept his eyes a little too focused on the skyline above, clearly trying to reassemble what little dignity he thought he had lost in those last thirty seconds.

“So, what do we do now?”

Emily tried not to smile too hard at the way he refused to meet her eyes. “Well,” she said thoughtfully, tapping a finger against her chin, “I guess the next step would be to find someone who actually wants their future read.”

Vanir nodded eagerly, like he’d been hoping she’d say that. “Right. Right, of course. We need customers. A little foot traffic, some friendly engagement. Thankfully, that’s my bread and butter.”

Emily raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I am Vanity,” Vanir said with mock grandiosity, placing a hand over his chest and striking a dramatic pose that made passing angels glance over with puzzled looks. “I know how to appeal to people. All it takes is the right energy. The right words. The right look.” He gestured to himself with a flourish. “I’ve been dazzling mortals and demons alike for centuries. Winning over a few nervous angels?” He smirked. “Please. That’s child’s play.”

It was not.

“Angels of the Promenade!” Vanir beckoned loudly. His voice was rich and theatrical as he flung his arms wide open. A few people nearby turned, mostly out of instinct, the same way you might glance up when a pigeon lands just a bit too close to the juicy hot dog you ordered from a nearby food truck.

“Feeling uncertain about a big decision? Wondering whether to change careers, move cities, or take out a downpayment on that adorable cottage just off the edge of the Promenade?”

Without missing a beat, Vanir hopped up onto the lip of the fountain like it was a pedestal meant solely for his dramatic declarations. It wasn’t designed as a stage, but of course he managed to make it work. His cloak flared behind him as he spun, arms extended wide as if he were addressing a rapturous crowd.

“Well fear no more! I am Vanir, the Deadly Sin of Vainglory, and for the low, low cost of absolutely nothing, I will offer a glimpse of what comes of your future! You’ll get to see exactly what you need to do in order to solve any problem you may have.”

He was captivating.

That much, at least, was undeniable. He spoke with confidence, an easy rhythm that could easily wrap people in his words. His voice projected beautifully. The tone was inviting without being pushy. The problem wasn’t his presentation.

The problem was everything else.

He was still a demon. A Deadly Sin, no less. And no matter how eloquently he spoke, no matter how animated his gestures or charming his banter, the idea of taking guidance from a Sin was a line most angels weren’t willing to cross.

“Why would I trust a demon to guide my future?” someone finally asked.

Vanir beamed. “Ah, excellent question!” he said, spinning theatrically on one heel. “Why trust me, you ask? That’s the best part! You don’t need to trust me.”

He gestured to the crystal ball with flair. “Behold! This little orb doesn’t just show me the future, it will show you the exact same thing. You don’t take my word for it, you see it yourself! A fully transparent future consultation experience! Emily will also be supervising me the whole time, so you’re in entirely safe hands here.”

A few angels slowed their steps. One woman glanced at the ball, then at Vanir, then at Emily, as if trying to calculate whether this was an actual offer or a celestial sting operation.

It was a solid pitch.

It really was.

But it wasn’t working.

A few angels spared them polite, confused glances as they passed, but most didn’t even slow down. For every curious glance, there was another quickly turned shoulder. For every half-interested onlooker, there was a parent ushering their child away. Emily could feel her optimism draining with every awkward heartbeat.

She hated that she understood why.

Vanir was loud. He was bold. He was extra. Every movement he made, every flourish of his cloak or flick of his wrist was meant to be noticed. And right now, that included him treating a public fountain like his own personal stage, never mind the small plaque nearby that politely requested visitors not to stand on the rim.

And if she were in their position, if she didn’t know him, she would probably walk past too.

She didn’t want to admit that. But she had to.

From their perspective, it wasn’t a noble attempt at redemption. It was a demon making a scene. A Deadly Sin desperate bidding for attention by marketing the singular power he still has access to.

Vanir didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he did, and he was trying not to. He kept pushing, kept speaking, his voice full of charisma that never wavered, even when the audience failed to show.

“You, sir! Excellent jawline! Come, come, don’t be shy. Just a quick look! Take control of your own destiny!”

“Ma’am with the peach-colored scarf, you have the aura of someone standing at a crossroads! Let’s make sure you take the right path, shall we?”

Each rejection landed a little heavier. Emily could see it in the way his smile tightened, how his movements became just a touch more desperate.

“My services are quick, effective, and overseen by Heaven’s own Joybringer!” Vanir gestured dramatically toward Emily with both hands. “It’s safe! You can trust me!”

The glances were growing colder. Someone muttered something under their breath. Another scoffed. A few people were actively crossing the street to avoid them.

Emily took a small, uneasy step forward. “Vanir,” she said gently, touching his elbow.

He didn’t look at her right away, his eyes scanning the ever-dwindling crowd. “They’ll come around,” he said, a little too quickly. “They just need to warm up. I’m planting seeds, cultivating intrigue, laying the groundwork. These things just take time—”

“Vanir, maybe we should take a break.”

Vanir turned to her with wide eyes, his grin flickering like it didn’t know whether to stay or vanish entirely. “What? No, we’re just getting started—”

“Vanir,” she repeated, her tone more steady this time. Her fingers curled slightly against his arm. “Just a small break. Please.”

His shoulders slumped just enough to betray how tired he really was. The performance had drained him more than he wanted to admit. For a long moment, he just stared at her, her request weighing silently on his mind.

“…Alright,” he murmured. “Just a short one.”

He stepped down from the fountain with a surprising level of grace for someone who had been putting on a failing stage performance mere seconds back. His cloak caught the breeze as he landed beside her.

He carefully tucked the crystal ball under his arm, though Emily couldn’t help noticing how nervously he kept shifting it, gently tossing it from one hand to the other, his fingers gripping the polished sphere tightly each time he caught it.

She walked beside him quietly, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. The morning sunlight felt suddenly colder somehow, as if their surroundings were absorbing the awkwardness that hung between them.

Vanir kept stealing glances at her, his emerald eyes uncertain, the bravado from earlier now fully dissolved into something hesitant and anxious.

“Look,” he finally said, breaking the silence that had settled uncomfortably around them. “I know things went bad back there, but that doesn’t mean we should just give up. Nothing good ever comes easy, right, Emily?”

He looked at her directly, clearly seeking reassurance. His expression was still that same earnest hopefulness from earlier, but instead of soothing her anxiety, his words only made Emily’s chest tighten further.

“I—I’m not so sure, Vanir,” she said quietly, struggling to keep her tone steady. “This is exactly why I wanted you to get a more private job instead. You just… you don’t understand the rules of Heaven yet.”

He suddenly stopped and looked at Emily with a puzzled expression. Emily sighed as she turned to face him fully. Her words came out harsher than she meant for them to, but once they started, she found she couldn’t stop.

“Maybe we could eventually work our way up to you trying the fortune-telling stand again, once you understand things better,” she explained carefully. “But for now, I really think the best option is just going to Sera and—”

Vanir stopped abruptly, his stance stiffening as he turned fully to face her. The crystal ball was clenched tightly in both his hands now, the playful toss fully abandoned.

“What exactly don’t I get, Emily?” he asked, voice edged with frustration. His tone wasn’t harsh, but it was demanding, seeking an answer she wasn’t sure she could fully articulate.

“All of it!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “Vanir, what even was that back there? You jumped on the fountain, the literal center of the Promenade, and started acting like Heaven was your personal auditorium. And the way you were speaking, like wow. It was so loud, so obnoxious!”

She shook her head, fighting to keep her voice steady, though her emotions threatened to spill over completely.

“You do realize that the world doesn’t revolve around you, right? People enjoy walking down the street peacefully and not having some stranger shove his whole performance into their faces. Explain to me why would anyone want to support some snobbish jerk who’s disturbing the peace and not even giving the bare minimum respect to the outdoor furniture!”

The moment the words left her mouth, Emily instantly regretted them. She pressed her hands together tightly, looking down as a flush of shame washing over her cheeks. She hadn’t meant it to sound so harsh, but she knew it was necessary to say

“I… never thought of it like that before,” he admitted quietly.

His voice lacked its usual theatrics. There was no dramatic flair, no carefully placed sarcasm. Just quiet honesty.

“In Hell, we don’t really have… rules like that. Not the unspoken kind.” He glanced up at her, his expression heavy with regret. “It’s just… whoever shows up the strongest and loudest usually ends up on top. That’s how you survive. You make noise. You make a scene. If you don’t, someone else does, then they win, and you don’t.”

He looked away again, his gaze drifting over the cobbled streets and bright, elegant spires of the Promenade. His voice was softer now. “But I should’ve realized it’s different up here. I’m sorry, Emily.”

Emily’s heart squeezed, the last of her irritation melting under the weight of his words. She stepped forward without hesitation, resting her hand gently on his arm.

“It’s not your fault,” she said softly. “You’re in a new place and everything is unfamiliar. I should’ve done a better job preparing you.”

Vanir looked at her, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly at her touch.

“The people in Heaven…” Emily continued, her voice gentle, warm with understanding, “they’re not like the ones down there. They don’t pick sides based on strength. They don’t follow the loudest person just because they’re the most confident. They’re good people, and most of them want to help. They like kindness. They want to believe in the underdog, the one who’s struggling, the one who actually needs help.”

She offered a small smile, her eyes softening. “They don’t need to align themselves with the toughest just to get by. Not here.”

Vanir’s eyes widened, the deep emerald brightening with sudden clarity. He looked at Emily, his expression startled, almost stunned by the realization.

“That…that makes so much sense,” he murmured, half to himself. His grip on the crystal ball tightened again, but this time with resolve rather than nervousness. “How did I not even consider that?”

Emily softened further, a gentle smile touching her lips as she squeezed his arm reassuringly. “Don’t beat yourself up over it,” she said gently. “It’s okay, we’ll figure this out together. For now, let’s just go to Sera, alright? Let’s take some time to regroup, not worry about all this. Trust me, things will work out better this way.”

Vanir hesitated, looking at her thoughtfully for a moment before giving a quiet nod. “Okay.”

Emily blinked, clearly caught off guard by his sudden and easy agreement. “Really?”

Vanir gave a small, weary smile, but there was a bitter edge hidden behind it that unsettled her. “Of course,” he said quietly. “In all honesty, it’s not even entirely my fault, is it?”

Emily frowned, confusion flashing through her eyes. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged lightly, looking away as he adjusted his grip on the crystal ball again, his voice adopting a colder, slightly louder tone, just enough for a few passing angels to overhear. “Let’s be honest, Emily. Even if I hadn’t made such a scene, it’s not like Heaven would’ve ever actually supported me anyway. That’s why you’re trying to get me to go to Sera so badly, right?”

Emily’s eyes widened, a sudden sense of panic squeezing her chest. “What? No!” she stammered quickly. “I mean yes, but not like that! This isn’t permanent. I just… I wanted to give everyone here time to get used to the idea of a Deadly Sin living among them. And maybe give you some lessons on angelic etiquette while we’re at it. This isn’t giving up; it’s just trying again later!”

But Vanir didn’t look convinced. His eyes narrowed skeptically as he raised his voice just a little more, enough for the scattered angels around them to start pausing.

“Really?” Vanir challenged, his tone carrying clearly through the crowd. “Because it definitely feels like giving up to me. Think about it. Heaven doesn’t actually trust me, does it?”

He glanced meaningfully around, catching the eyes of several nearby angels who quickly averted their gazes, shifting uncomfortably.

“I’m working so hard to be good. All I want to do is help other people. Just a few minutes of their time, and I can use my powers to guide them through their toughest decisions, completely free. But even that’s too much for them, isn’t it?”

Emily shook her head violently. The desperation was clear in her voice once she spoke. “No, Vanir, it’s not like that!”

“Of course it is,” he said as he held up the crystal ball with one hand. “This makes sure I’m not lying.” Then he tapped the anklet on his leg with his heel. “This makes sure I’m not dangerous. Your main reason for being here is to make sure I stay on the right path, and yet none of that is enough.”

He paused, meeting the eyes of a few bystanders with an openly defeated expression. “How can I ever spread goodness if no one here is even willing to give me a chance?”

Emily’s heart hammered painfully against her ribs as she helplessly stared into Vanir’s gaze. His emerald eyes, usually bright and teasing, were now clouded with a pain that she didn’t know how to fix. She’d faced plenty of difficult situations before. She was the Joybringer! She’s settled more angry disputes than anyone else in Heaven. She helped a countless number of souls work through the trauma they faced on Earth. But somehow, this felt different. This time it felt like she didn’t have a solution.

As her brain searched desperately for something comforting, anything that might soothe the disappointment etched across Vanir’s expression, Emily became suddenly aware of the noise rising around them. It was subtle at first, just whispers that she barely noticed, but it quickly grew louder, more distinct. She immediately broke away from Vanir’s gaze as she looked at her surroundings in confusion.

A crowd was forming, though the word crowd might have been a bit generous. It wasn’t a huge group, but more than enough to be noticeable. Several angels lingered nearby, suddenly deeply fascinated by the delicate arrangement of marigolds lining the Promenade’s path. Others didn’t even pretend to hide their curiosity, openly leaning closer to catch every word. Emily shifted uncomfortably, her wings rustling with faint embarrassment as she realized their conversation had become a public spectacle.

Vanir suddenly took a step toward her, the usual swagger in his movements replaced by a more subtle demeanor as he leaned closer to her.

“It’s working,” he whispered. His voice was quiet to the point that she was barely able to hear him over the sounds of the fountain nearby.

Emily’s eyes widened as realization clicked into place.

“You planned this?” she whispered back, the quietness of her voice not quite able to hide the hint of shock in her tone.

Vanir’s smile curled slyly at the edges. Not enough to make his usual smug grin, but enough that Emily could tell he was a bit too pleased with himself and the stunt he just pulled.

“Not so loud,” he replied softly. “They’re still trying to listen.”

Emily glanced over her shoulder, and sure enough, half the angels who had paused were still watching them beneath poorly concealed curiosity. She turned back to Vanir, her feathers fluffing slightly in agitation as he continued, voice velvet-smooth.

“But yes,” he said. “Like you said, Heaven supports the underdog. So, all I had to do was make myself into one.”

Emily stared at him, her mouth open in utter disbelief. “Vanir,” she said, voice rising ever so slightly, “you can’t just do that. That’s manipulative!”

He gave her a look like she’d just told him grass is green. “All advertising is manipulative, Emily. That’s the point. You’re trying to influence people to choose your product over someone else’s.”

Emily’s feathers ruffled again, this time more sharply, a mix of frustration and disbelief tightening across her chest. Her eyes darted to the small crowd still lingering nearby, eavesdropping with barely masked interest, then back to Vanir, who looked entirely too proud of himself.

“That’s wrong,” she hissed under her breath.

Vanir tilted his head in genuine curiosity. “Why is it wrong?” he asked softly. “I didn’t lie. Not once. Everything I said was true.”

Emily faltered for half a second. That much was true. He hadn’t exaggerated his abilities or made any false promises. If anything, he’d stuck rigidly to the truth, wrapping it only in a more dramatic delivery and that… infuriating charisma of his.

“I know,” she admitted, crossing her arms tightly as she tried to stand her ground. “And I’m glad you didn’t lie, really. That would’ve made this a hundred times worse. But just because you told the truth doesn’t mean it was virtuous.”

“Well then it seems like you’re not very virtuous either.”

“Excuse you?” she said, scandalized, as her wings fully fanned out in response to the accusation. “That is incredibly rude!”

But Vanir only pointed upward, eyes twinkling with innocence. “Is it?”

Emily looked to where he was pointing, and then immediately wished she hadn’t. Hovering above the Promenade was one of Heaven’s official billboards. It displayed her face in glowing, pristine clarity. White hair shining like frost under morning light, her wide blue-violet eyes beaming straight into the sky as she posed mid-twirl, surrounded by sparkling stars that formed her signature catchphrase:

“Spread love, and kill only with kindness!”

Her entire face took on a brilliant gold hue as she averted her gaze. “That’s not the same thing at all!”

Vanir’s grin widened, just a little. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, that wasn’t my idea! Sera picked the design. She said it tested well with the public and it’s part of my duties as the Joybringer! It’s just to encourage others to do more good!”

“And that’s exactly what I’m trying to do,” Vanir said smoothly. “I’m not trying to trick anyone. All I want is to help them make informed decisions. You know how many regrets people have? How many choices they wish they could take back? My future visions show them the outcome before they make the mistake. I’m giving them the chance to live with less pain. Doesn’t that count as spreading good?”

Emily turned to face him, caught between indignation and uncertainty, as her response got stuck behind her teeth. The worst part was that he sounded genuinely sincere. Underneath all the dramatics, he wanted to help. He just couldn’t stop being so Vanir in how he approached it.

“Fine. It’s probably not even going to work anyways.”

But no sooner had the words left her mouth than a voice, hesitant and uncertain, broke through the din of the promenade.

“Um… excuse me.”

Emily’s head snapped toward the voice, which came from a young Winner standing just a few steps away.

She recognized him instantly, Ethan. She’d helped him settle in when he first arrived in Heaven. Now he stood with his arms tucked close to his sides, like he already wished he hadn’t said anything. His soft brown hair was tousled, and his wings were folded neatly behind him. His wide, nervous eyes flicked back and forth between Emily and Vanir, like he wasn’t sure which one was more likely to explode.

The angel swallowed once before continuing, “Could you… could you maybe read my future?”

Emily’s stomach dropped.

“Seriously Ethan?” she blurted before she could stop herself.

Vanir instantly glared at her, his emerald eyes narrowing with pointed offense. There wasn’t a single word in the response, but it screamed plenty.

Emily’s face drained of color. “I—I didn’t mean it like that!” she said quickly, straightening up as she forced a bright, practiced smile to her lips. “Of course he can! I mean— Of course you can, Ethan. Vanir is completely safe, I promise. I’ll be right here the whole time.”

Ethan still looked uncertain, but he nodded slowly, glancing between the two of them again before stepping a little closer.

Vanir, recovering from his glare, turned smoothly on his heel with renewed sense of vigor. He bowed slightly at the waist, one arm sweeping to his chest as he addressed the nervous young angel with a freshly polished smile.

“I am proud to say that you, kind sir, are officially my first customer. And I would be absolutely delighted to help. So talk to me kid, what’s the issue that brought you to me today?”

Ethan chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s pretty simple,” he admitted. “I interviewed to work at the Ark about a week ago as a zookeeper. Not only is it super close by, but I used to work with animals a lot on Earth. Mainly dogs, but I also volunteered at shelters, rehab centers, that kind of thing. And now that I’m here... Heaven’s got so many creatures I’ve never even dreamed of. Did you know they have unicorns?”

Vanir’s entire face lit up, his eyes gleaming with sudden delight. “Wait, unicorns? I thought those were only in the Sanctuary Grove!”

He turned immediately to Emily, eyes wide with betrayal. “You didn’t tell me there’s one in the local zoo! You didn’t even tell me there is a local zoo!”

Emily stifled a laugh, her wings shifting slightly as she folded her arms. “Yes Vanir, there’s a zoo. It’s called the Ark and it has all the fuzziest animals. And yes, they have a unicorn exhibit. We can go this weekend if you want.”

“Please,” Vanir said with complete seriousness, “you have no idea how much I need this.”

Ethan reached out and tapped Vanir lightly on the shoulder, snapping the demon out of his unicorn-induced daze.

“Oh right, sorry about that, I got sidetracked. But don’t worry, the process is super duper simple. All I’m going to do is hold out this lovely crystal orb…” He lifted the sphere with a light flourish, letting it rest in one hand while the other gestured smoothly above it. “And activate my powers. You’ll see a sort of highlight reel of your future. Just the big stuff. Meanwhile, I get to experience the whole thing from your perspective.”

Ethan’s eyebrows drew together in mild concern. “Wait, the whole thing? Like… every little moment?”

Vanir nodded with no hesitation. “Oh, absolutely everything. Bathroom trips, showers, pleasuring yourself, you get the idea. Just try to ignore that part. Satan knows I do.”

Emily choked on her own breath, wings twitching wildly as she covered her face with her free hand.

Ethan’s cheeks flushed, but to his credit, he simply nodded and said, “Okay, that’s… fine.”

“Excellent.”

He took a step forward, raising the crystal orb with one hand as his other hovered just near Ethan’s shoulder. Then, slowly, he lifted his gaze to meet Ethan’s eyes, and held it.

The change was immediate.

Vanir’s eyes lit up in a piercing, diamond-blue glow, shards of color shifting through his pupil like stars glowing in deep space. The crystal ball responded in kind, pulsing gently until it shimmered with the same brilliant hue. Within its depths, fleeting images began to stir.

Emily leaned forward slightly despite herself, eyes fixed on the glowing orb. The images were clear enough to follow.

Ethan at his mailbox.

Then again.

And again.

Each time, his hopeful face peeked in, hands rifling through envelopes with that small, tightly guarded anticipation, until it melted into quiet disappointment. He never found what he was looking for.

More curious angels had started to gather now, drawn in by the glow and Vanir’s sudden stillness. They edged closer, hesitant but fascinated, eyes flicking between the demon, the orb, and the swirling future playing out in soft blue bursts.

Emily’s wings ruffled at once, and she raised a hand protectively in front of the orb, her voice firm.

“Hey, this isn’t a show! That’s someone’s personal future in there. You can’t just stand around and watch. It could be… sensitive.”

But before she could shoo them away, Ethan reached out and gently lowered her hand.

“It’s okay,” he said, giving her a small, reassuring smile. “I don’t mind. It’s not like it’s anything super private. Mostly just me walking back and forth from the mailbox.”

More fragments flickered into view, Ethan pacing the walkway, glancing toward the sky, rereading printed application papers while perched on a porch swing, his wings twitching with nerves.

Then came breakfast. A modest bowl of oatmeal, a few slices of apple, and a cartoon flickering on a glowing screen before him. He sat in silence, chewing slowly, eyes drifting out of focus.

Suddenly, a tiger-striped envelope shimmered into existence just inches above the table. It floated there a moment, as if debating its own arrival, before dropping with a quiet plop onto the table.

Ethan’s future-self reached forward, tore it open with slightly trembling fingers, and read:

Dear Ethan,

Thank you for your interest in the Ark and for your heartfelt application. While we were deeply impressed by your enthusiasm and experience, the position of Celestial Creature Specialist has already been filled.

We encourage you to continue your journey here in Heaven and consider applying again during our next cycle. May the light guide your path.

Warmest regards, The Ark Recruitment Committee

The answer had arrived.

And it wasn’t the one Ethan had been hoping for.

The glow from the crystal orb began to fade, its shimmer dimming like a star easing behind a veil of clouds. Vanir’s eyes dulled along with it, the brilliant diamond-blue flickering once, then vanishing entirely as his shoulders gently settled back into their natural posture. The vision was over.

Ethan let out a soft, breathy laugh, though it held no real humor. His hand came up to rub the back of his neck again, eyes fixed on the ground even as his voice tried for lightness.

“Well… guess that answers that.”

Before he could fully retreat into the silence that followed, Emily stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a firm, wordless hug. Her wings fanned out slightly as if to shield him from the growing stares of the crowd. Ethan froze in surprise for a second, but then relaxed, leaning into the hug like it was exactly what he hadn’t realized he needed.

Others around them began to move too, a soft ripple of sympathy stirring through the small cluster of angels. A few placed gentle hands on Ethan’s shoulders. Another murmured something kind beneath their breath. The disappointment wasn’t erased, but it was softened, cushioned by the quiet hum of community support.

“He did that on purpose!”

Emily quickly looked up to try and find the source.

The voice came from behind the crowd, a young man with a sharp tone and narrowed eyes at Vanir. “This is some kind of demon’s trick, isn’t it? Making someone feel bad just for your sick kicks. You said you wanted to help people, but all you did was crush his hopes.”

A second voice chimed in, this one belonging to a tall, silver-winged woman standing with her arms crossed. “Exactly, I thought you said the whole point was to seize your own destiny. To change things. What happened to all that inspirational talk?”

Emily let go of Ethan slowly, her expression shifting as she moved closer to Vanir, her stance subtly protective now. She stepped just in front of him, wings partially flared out, just enough to mark her place beside him.

But before she could say anything, Vanir gently touched her elbow.

“It’s fine,” he said calmly, stepping forward to meet the crowd’s glares head-on. “They deserve an explanation.”

Emily hesitated, then let him pass, her eyes locked on him like she was ready to pounce the second someone made a move.

“I didn’t trick anyone,” he said simply. “Rejection happens sometimes. That’s life. As much as I’d love to help Ethan, he interviewed a week ago. I can’t change the past.”

The crowd didn’t speak, but he could feel the tension in their posture, the disbelief that still hovered between them like mist.

He continued. “Now… there are technically ways Ethan could still get that job,” he admitted, holding up a hand before anyone could speak. “But they’re unethical at best. And I’m not here to encourage that.”

“What does that even mean?” a third angel asked, brow furrowed, wings twitching at her back.

Vanir sighed lightly and looked at the crystal ball still cradled in his hand. “One of the possible futures I saw had Ethan blackmailing the hiring manager. Nothing violent. Just… uncomfortable secrets.”

“I know,” he said at once, turning to her with a slightly sheepish tilt of his head. “Which is why I didn’t suggest it. I’m not that irresponsible.”

He looked back to Ethan now, his voice shifting into a more sincere tone.

“What I was going to suggest is that we find you a different job, one that suits you even better. You know what they say, for every door closed, another one opens. Let’s find one where you not only get accepted, but actually fall in love with your work. Something that makes you excited to wake up every day.”

Ethan stood in silence, staring at Vanir like the idea was too big to wrap his mind around all at once. His fingers toyed nervously with the hem of his sleeve. The crowd had quieted now, watching with a cautious sort of interest, but no one spoke. Even Emily stayed still, heart caught between concern and cautious hope.

Then, slowly, Ethan nodded his head.

“…Okay,” he said. “Let’s try again.”

Vanir’s smile returned. It was warmer this time, without a trace of theatrics. He lifted the crystal orb once more, his expression smoothing into that calm focus Emily was beginning to recognize as genuine concentration. As before, his eyes lit with that shining blue light. The orb responded in kind, glowing soft and steady as it filled again with glimpses of what could be.

It started with Ethan at a construction site, casually guiding wooden planks into place like he’d done it a hundred times. Then the scene shifted to a forest, where he crouched beside a patch of glowing mushrooms, journal in hand, laughing as a flying squirrel scrambled up his arm. Next came a cozy bakery, sunlight spilling through the windows while he piped icing onto a cake, quietly humming to himself like the world didn’t exist beyond the frosting.

Finally, he was kneeling beside a small, injured creature. It looked like a winged ferret with eyes way too big for its head. He wrapped it gently in a blanket and passed it to another worker with a calm nod. All around him were open-air enclosures basking in golden light, filled with many animals and heavenly beasts, each one recovering in peace.

The rescue shelter.

The light in the orb dimmed as the vision ended, and Vanir blinked, causing his eyes to return to normal.

“I want the rescue shelter,” Ethan said immediately, eyes bright with sudden clarity. “That’s the one.”

“I already know.”

He turned slightly, reaching into his coat and pulling out a small notecard and pen with ease. With unnecessary flourish, he scribbled something down and handed it to Ethan.

“Shelter’s called Silver Paws,” he said. “Run by a retired guardian named Coriel. They’re always short-staffed, but they’re particular about who they let in. You’ll need to show up tomorrow morning with a letter of intent, handwritten, and be prepared to shadow for a full week. Make sure to mention that you’ve done shelter experience back on Earth, and you’re in.”

Ethan accepted the card with wide eyes, holding it like it might vanish.

“And you’re sure this will work?”

“As long as you show up, you’re golden” he said as he tucked the pen back into his coat with a flick of his wrist.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Ethan surged forward, throwing his arms around Vanir in an enthusiastic hug. Vanir visibly froze, his eyes widening as his wings fluttered awkwardly behind him, clearly unsure of how exactly he was supposed to handle being embraced by a total stranger.

Emily pressed a hand against her lips, holding back laughter as Vanir gingerly reached up and gave Ethan a couple awkward pats on the back.

Ethan quickly pulled away, beaming brightly,as his eyes practically sparkled. “Thank you,” he said earnestly, clutching the notecard tightly. “Really. Thank you so much.”

And then, before anyone else could say a word, Ethan was already off, sprinting down the promenade with an exuberance that made even Emily’s heart lift.

Around them, the hesitant quiet began to break apart. The angels who had watched the scene unfold with skeptical stares and muttered judgments were now moving closer, their earlier reservations replaced by cautious curiosity.

“Um, can you do that for anything?” one angel asked shyly. “Or…is it only about jobs?”

Vanir, quickly regaining his composure from the unexpected hug, flashed his charming smile, slipping back into a comfortable performance mode.

“No, no, I can read anything,” he explained smoothly, voice once again infused with warmth and charisma. “Food, family matters, big decisions, small curiosities, if it’s in your future, it’s fair game.”

The crowd instantly looked more excited, the whispers swelling into excited chatter as more and more angels pressed forward, each eager to know what their future might hold.

Emily snapped into motion, the confident organizer in her taking over. She quickly lifted her clipboard, waving it in the air to gather everyone’s attention.

“Alright, alright, everyone please settle down!” she called clearly, the firm kindness returning to her tone as she began shepherding angels into a neat, orderly line. “If you’re interested in a vision from Vanir, please form a line here. Let’s make sure everyone gets their turn.”

As the angels shuffled into position, Emily glanced back at Vanir, expecting to find him soaking in the attention like sunlight. But instead, she caught him standing still, watching her with what seemed to be an affectionate smile.

Emily felt her breath catch, a sudden warmth rising gently in her chest as she returned the smile with one of her own. Maybe Vanir still had a lot to learn, maybe he’d always be overly dramatic and occasionally manipulative, but watching him use his powers to bring genuine hope rather than pain, she realized he was actually doing it. He was helping.

A Deadly Sin, Vanity itself, using his power for good.

It really was amazing.

By the time they returned to the manor, the sun had already dipped low behind Heaven’s glowing spires, casting long, amber shadows across the marble floors. Emily’s wings drooped slightly at her sides, every feather heavy with exhaustion. Even the soft sparkle of her halo had dimmed to a tired glow. Her clipboard, still clutched in one hand, was filled with scribbled notes. It was page after page covered in client names, requests, and outcomes.

They had been out there all day.

The moment the front doors shut behind them with a gentle thud, Vanir groaned theatrically and dropped face-first onto the couch in the entry room, arms spread wide like a starfish. His peacock tail fanned out above him, and one of his horns nearly hooked on a pillow as he twisted to get comfortable.

“I’m dead,” he declared into the cushion, voice muffled. “I died. That’s it. I’m deceased.”

Emily smiled faintly and waved a hand. A bowl of sea-salt chips blinked into existence on the table beside them, followed by a tall glass of peach nectar. She sat down beside him with a soft sigh, letting her clipboard rest across her lap as she reached for a chip.

Vanir peeked up from the cushions with one eye and quickly snatched a chip. “That was a pretty successful day, if I do say so myself.”

Emily didn’t argue. Instead, she flipped through her clipboard until she found the final tally. “Eighty-two,” she said, glancing over at him. “You had eighty-two clients.”

“Wait, seriously? That many?”

Emily nodded. “Every single one recorded. Their names, the questions they asked, and what you showed them. I’ll file it with Sera in the morning.”

He slowly sat up, a bit more alert now, though his wings still sagged with fatigue. “So… does that mean I can keep doing it?” His voice was cautious, like he didn’t quite trust the answer he hoped was coming.

Emily looked at him, letting the moment hang for just a second longer than necessary before letting out a wide smile.

“It does.”

Vanir turned his head toward her slowly, staring at her face as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“You really mean it? I can actually keep doing this?”

Emily glanced sideways at Vanir, a gentle smile tugging at her lips.

“Of course I mean it. I’m proud of you, you know,” she said softly, nudging his shoulder with hers. “I know it couldn’t have been easy, especially after failing over and over and over. Honestly, it was kind of hard to watch. Like, it was really bad. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so much second-hand embarrassment in my entire existence, and I spend a lot of time around Saint Peter—”

“I got it, Emily,” Vanir interrupted, voice flat and cheeks flushed a faint black.

Emily laughed, gently elbowing him as some sort of substitute for an actual apology. “But that’s exactly my point. Even after all that humiliation, you never stopped. You listened, you adapted your approach, and you tried again. You were even polite to the angels who were outright mean to you. You proved me wrong, Vanir. So yes, I’ll fully support your decision to keep working directly with the public.”

Before Emily could even finish her sentence, Vanir surged forward and tackled her into a fierce hug, knocking the bowl of chips off of her lap and onto the floor. For a split second she froze, but then her wings relaxed, wrapping gently around him as he buried his face against her shoulder.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Emily closed her eyes, her own heart swelling as she held him close. “Always,” she murmured softly.

The room fell quiet around them, the gentle warmth of evening settling over the manor like a blanket. For the first time since Vanir arrived, the future didn’t feel uncertain or far away. It felt close. It felt comfortable.

It felt joyful.

Chapter Text

Vanir knew it took a thousand little miracles to get a perfect photo. Light had to bend just right, the air had to still, and the subject had to blend into the moment without even realizing it. So Emily’s constant movements weren’t doing him any favors.

“Could you please stay still for half a second? You’re going to scare that monster off your finger.”

“I’m trying!” Emily answered, her voice light and tinged with nerves, as though mimicking a statue was the most difficult task in the world. “You know, when I asked you to help me with updating my profile picture on Halo, I thought you’d just snap a pic of me on your phone or something. Not start a week long quest in getting the perfect shot.”

Well, that was naive of her. Great photos don’t just pop into existence because someone asked nicely. They need planning, patience, and a little bit of charm. As beautiful as it was, the backyard was a fickle stage, a living thing that refused to sit still no matter how much he wanted it to. Finding the perfect spot had meant more than just glancing around and pointing to where the grass looked nice. The light would need to filter through the clouds just enough to kiss her hair without washing her out, and the garden behind her had to fall perfectly into focus. Even the time of day had to cooperate. The late afternoon light had to add an amber ambiance, soft enough to give Emily’s skin a warm glow but not so bright that it would drown her out. The air had to stay still, the shadows gentle, the sky a perfect balance between blue and silver. Every detail mattered. Reducing all that effort to some careless snapshot would be nothing short of insulting.

“Sorry, Emily, but I don’t half-ass things. It’s in my nature to go above and beyond.” Vanir said with a shrug and his signature smile. “Besides, isn’t this a good thing? You’re getting a professional-grade photo for free. Between my generosity and my diligence, I don’t see how you could possibly be upset here.”

The camera balanced perfectly on the tripod, its lens catching the soft light filtering through the golden sky. Vanir adjusted the focus one last time before taking a few careful steps back, his eyes flicking between the frame and Emily. She was standing in front of the rose bushes, one hand raised slightly with a tiny butterfly perched delicately on her finger. The whole scene looked like a painting come to life, though her fidgeting was ruining the stillness he needed.

He was about to remind her again to relax her shoulders when the sharp ring of the doorbell sliced through the calm air. Vanir groaned softly and lowered his camera.

“Don’t move,” he said immediately, holding up a finger. “Not even an inch. I swear if you twitch and that disgusting creature flies off, I’m making you start this entire thing over.”

Emily shifted slightly, her shoulders already protesting the pose she had been stuck in. “But maybe I should—”

“I’ll get it,” he said, already walking toward the house. “And before you start lecturing me, I’m not sacrificing tomorrow on this project too. So just hold that pose and maybe we’ll actually finish today.”

Her lips pressed together, and she let out a tired sigh that ruffled one of the tiny flower petals balanced on her hair. “Fine, but please make it quick. I don’t know how much longer I can hold this.”

Vanir grinned over his shoulder, his wings twitching slightly in amusement as he stepped onto the porch. “No promises,” he called back.

He turned on his heel and took off through the grass, his long cloak catching the sunlight as he moved. The manor loomed ahead, gleaming white marble framed by hanging ivy and streaks of gold light from the setting sun. The air inside was cooler when he stepped through the back door, carrying the faint scent of lavender and old parchment. His wings shifted instinctively to avoid brushing against the walls as he crossed the corridor.

The bell rang again, longer this time, like whoever was outside was starting to lose patience. Vanir rolled his eyes but quickened his pace, his heels clicking against the marble floor. He glanced briefly at his reflection in the entryway mirror and gave himself a quick once-over. Hair, gorgeous. Smile, charming. Posture, impeccable. The Deadly Sin of Vainglory was ready to do what he does best.

Vanir reached the door, his steps light and quick as curiosity buzzed in his chest. He twisted the golden handle and swung the door open, half expecting to see a delivery angel or maybe another one of Emily’s overly cheerful friends. Instead, standing before him was a tall angel with soft golden hair and bright amber eyes, holding a bouquet of deep red roses like it was part of some grand gesture. His uniform gleamed white and gold beneath the sunlight, the halo above his head glowing faintly like a crown.

For a moment, Vanir just stared, his eyebrows rising as his eyes flicked from the flowers to the angel’s face. “Wow,” he said finally, a grin spreading across his face. “I’m flattered, really, but I don’t swing that way.”

The angel blinked, clearly not expecting that response, and instead just silently stood there for a second. “I’m sorry,” he said slowly. “Who are you exactly?”

The peacock demon’s grin brightened, delighted that the question had been asked. He straightened his back, wings giving a quick, confident twitch as he gestured to himself with theatrical flair.

“I am so glad you asked! You are in the presence of the most beautiful being to ever exist. The illustrious ruler of the Pride Ring, the Deadly Sin of Vainglory himself, Vanir!”

He punctuated his introduction with a small bow, one hand sweeping across his chest while his tail fanned out behind him.

The angel’s eyes suddenly lit up in recognition, and his posture straightened as if he had just solved a puzzle. “Oh, oh, oh, you’re that demon from Ariadne’s party!” he exclaimed, his tone filled with the kind of sudden enthusiasm that made Vanir blink.

Vanir’s grin froze halfway. He blinked once, his hand still resting on the doorframe. “Ah,” he said after a brief pause. “So my reputation precedes me.”

The angel quickly raised his free hand, shaking his head as if to wave away the tension. “One of my friends had invited me to a gathering in the community garden, and I didn’t want to cancel. But I heard what happened afterward through Sera’s warning to everyone who attended.” His tone softened, and he looked at Vanir with awkward sympathy. “I can only imagine how awful that must have been for you.”

Vanir tilted his head slightly, the faintest spark of amusement touching his expression. Awful was not the word he would have used, though Emily would probably have described it that way and added ten more superfluous adjectives for good measure. He gave a small shrug, brushing a bit of hair from his face as he answered casually.

“It really wasn’t that bad,” he said. “Emily just insisted on reporting it, and that notice was a byproduct. Personally, I think the whole thing was blown out of proportion, but that’s Emily for you.”

His voice carried that same smooth charm he used when he wanted to steer a conversation away from anything serious. Then he glanced at the bouquet, and in less than a second his grin was back in full force.

“Speaking of Emily,” he said, pointing toward the roses with a playful smirk. “I’m assuming those are for her?”

The angel blinked again, caught off guard by how easily Vanir redirected the moment, before glancing down. His cheeks turned faintly yellow, and his grip on the bouquet tightened ever so slightly.

The angel cleared his throat, his wings twitching as if they were trying to fold into themselves. “Oh, these? It’s just a friendly gesture, nothing more.”

Vanir raised an eyebrow, his grin sharpening like a cat who had just found something entertaining to play with. “Oh, please. There’s no chance that’s true.” He crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly as he inspected the flowers again. “Roses are the most stereotypical romantic gesture money can buy. If I wasn’t so excited by the idea of this little courtship, I’d be scolding you for the lack of creativity.”

The angel’s face went from yellow to a deeper shade of gold, as his wings fluttered slightly behind him. “You’re making a lot of assumptions,” he said, his words tumbling out a bit too fast. “I always get Emily roses. It’s kind of our thing.”

“You do? Huh. Maybe Heaven is just weird or something.” The Deadly Sin rubbed his fingers against his chin for a moment before slowly shaking his head. “Nah, no chance. You’re way too nervous for this to be a purely platonic gesture. Am I right or am I right? And don’t be an Ananias. I’ll have you know that Emily hates liars.”

The angel hesitated, the faint blush on his cheeks deepening as he looked down at the bouquet again. His fingers brushed lightly over the petals, as if they might give him an excuse not to meet Vanir’s gaze.

“Alright, fine, you got me. They’re for her. But with you around, I doubt there’s much hope for that.”

Vanir tilted his head, surprised by the sudden honesty. He had expected more stammering, maybe another attempt to deny it, but not that level of self-deprecation. Honestly… it was kind of a turn-off. This dude was absolutely going to blow any shot he had without his help, and as a self-proclaimed romance connoisseur, he couldn't let such a sweet love story turn sour.

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short, sure, Emily might be beautiful, incredibly rich, and have a personality that dreams are made of, but at the very least, she’s not into me.”

The angel blinked, clearly not expecting that last part. Vanir smiled, running a hand through his green hair as his wings gave a lazy flick behind him.

“Hard to believe, I know. Most women fall head over heels the second I walk into the room. Trust me, I’ve met enough of them to recognize the look, the laughs, and the special treatment. But Emily? Nah. She’s far too wrapped up in her own sunshine and rainbows to think of me like that. Not that I’d accept anyway. I’m way too hot to tie myself down to one person. Trust me, the world deserves to appreciate all this.”

He swept a hand along his chest, his grin shining as if the heavens themselves agreed with him. The angel blinked at him, speechless, clearly unsure if this was confidence or arrogance. How asinine must he be to not realize that it’s simply just the truth?

“It’s a good thing, too. That means I’m your biggest ally here.”

Vanir leaned forward slightly, the playful glint in his eyes returning as he clapped his hands together. The echo across the manor made it seem like the building itself was applauding in agreement.

“See, I’m trying to learn how to be a good little demon these days. Really embracing the whole redemption arc thing. And part of that is doing selfless favors. So how about this? I could help you score a date with Emily. You get the girl of your dreams and I get to check another good deed off my list. Everybody wins!”

The angel shifted uneasily, glancing down at the bouquet before looking back at Vanir. “I don’t know… You’re from Hell. Do they even have love down there?”

“You know what,” he said, fishing into his coat pocket, “this will probably answer your question better than I could.”

The screen was filled with photos of love letters, each more extravagant than the last. Some were written on delicate pink parchment sealed with wax and glitter, while others were barely legible through smudged ink and tear stains. Scrolling further revealed ornate gifts: jewelry, embroidered scarves, bottles of perfume, all of which were photographed with meticulous detail.

There were even shrines! And not just one or two, but literal dozens. Built from candles, framed portraits, and offerings of sweets and flowers. The angel’s forehead scrunched as he swiped again, finding a picture of a wall covered in declarations of love scrawled in what could only be described as very bad handwriting.

“Wait, is this… is this blood?”

Vanir leaned in, peeking at the screen before giving a casual nod. “Yep. She said it was the purest expression of devotion. Romantic, right?”

The angel continued scrolling, his expression turning more bewildered with each swipe. The gallery went on and on, filled with declarations of devotion, drawings, and even a few marriage proposals written across banners. “It never seems to end,” he muttered, his voice almost dazed.

Vanir crossed his arms proudly, his wings fanning out in satisfaction. “Those aren’t even all of them, just my favorites. The rest took up too much storage space, so I had to move them to a flash drive.”

The angel stared down at the phone for a long moment before looking back up, half impressed and half horrified.

“Well, with credentials like that it would be stupid to say no.” A small smile tugged at his lips as he added, “Not to mention this favor would be kind, charitable, and diligent. All of which are virtuous and would look good on your record.”

The Deadly Sin’s smile returned in full force. “That’s the spirit,” he said, clearly delighted that the angel was catching on.

The angel straightened, a spark of confidence finally replacing his nervous energy. “Alright,” he said firmly. “I’m in.”

Vanir slipped the phone back into his pocket with a satisfied flick of his wrist. “Brilliant!” His voice was as alluring as a siren’s song. “Trust me, you won’t regret it. By the time I’m done, she won’t just like you, she’ll be absolutely smitten!”

“Who will be smitten?”

Vanir spun around so fast his tail nearly smacked a nearby bush, while the angel jolted upright, gripping the bouquet like a sword.

Emily stood just a few feet away, framed by the warm sunlight spilling through the hallway window. She tilted her head slightly, an innocent smile curving her lips, though her eyes held a spark of suspicion that made Vanir’s stomach sink.

“Emily!” he said a little too quickly. “Why are you here instead of in the backyard?”

She gave a sheepish shrug, her soft curls bouncing slightly as she spoke. “You took too long,” she said. “The butterfly flew away, so I figured I’d check on you.”

Vanir let out an exaggerated groan, dragging his hands down his face. “No, no, no, are you kidding me?” he whined. “It took me four and a half hours to catch that thing! Do you have any idea how repulsive those freaks are up close? They’ve got those tiny little legs and they fly all sporadically like their goal is to give me a heart attack. I hate them! I don’t want to have to catch another one.”

Emily crossed her arms, a teasing but scolding tone slipping into her voice. “If you were really that worried, maybe you should have hurried back instead of dallying around talking to—”

Her words stopped short the second her eyes landed on the angel standing in the doorway. Her expression lit up like the sun, and before Vanir could even register what was happening, Emily broke into an excited laugh and ran forward.

“Abel!” she cried.

Vanir barely stepped aside in time as Emily launched herself at the angel, wrapping her arms around him in a hug that nearly sent the bouquet flying. Abel stumbled back a step, his wings fluttering wildly in surprise, but after a moment of shock, his arms came up to return the hug, his expression softening into something almost radiant.

When Emily finally pulled away, her halo seemed to shine a little brighter. “You didn’t tell me you were visiting! You could have sent a message. I would’ve made tea or something!”

Abel just stood there for a moment, staring at her like he had forgotten how to speak. “You look… You look beautiful.”

What a wordsmith.

To be fair, Emily did indeed look stunning. The soft peach of her picnic dress caught the sunlight so perfectly that the floral patterns seemed to shimmer when she moved. The blue ribbon tied around her waist accentuated her figure, and the matching band on her sun hat brought out the blue in her eyes. Her hair looked like it was forged from platinum itself, and the gentle glow of her halo gave her a radiant aura that almost hurt to look at. It was the perfect appearance for the photo he planned to take, but honestly that was the last thing on his mind right now.

“Aww, thank you Abel!” she said with a happy smile, stepping back just enough to take in the blonde angel’s awestruck gaze. “But honestly Vanir is the one who deserves all the credit, he made this entire outfit from scratch just so I’d have a better photo for my Halo account.”

Abel’s gaze slowly shifted toward Vanir. The look he gave was one of disbelief, like he couldn’t decide whether he’d misheard or if Emily was joking.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s in my nature to go above and beyond or whatever. More importantly, did she just say that your name was Abel? Like the first murder victim, Abel? Is that why you have a dent in your halo?”

Emily’s jaw dropped. “Vanir!” she cried, her wings fluttering slightly as her voice rose in shock. “You can’t just bring up things like that out of the blue! That’s so rude!”

“Why? It’s what he’s famous for. He should be proud of it. No one would even care about him otherwise.”

“Vanir!” she said, her voice sharp with disbelief. “I thought you made so much progress this past week, but clearly that couldn’t be further from the truth!”

The Seraph's foot tapped against the floor as she glared at him. He could feel the tone of an exasperated teacher creeping into her voice, and he hated it. But before Vanir actually had a chance to argue, Abel quickly stepped in, raising a hand with an awkward smile. “It’s fine, really, I get it a lot.”

“It’s not fine,” Emily said sharply, before turning to face him. Her expression softened, but her voice stayed firm. “You say that, but I know it bothers you. It always has. I hate how people treat it like just another story instead of one of the worst moments in your life. It’s not fair to you.”

Abel looked a little awestruck by how fiercely she defended him, his golden eyes glistening with gratitude. Then Emily turned back to Vanir, and the warmth vanished from her face like someone had flipped a switch.

“I’m glad you’re willing to forgive him for his bad manners, but that doesn’t make it acceptable behavior. Vanir, I need you to apologize.”

Vanir frowned, his tail flicking once behind him as he crossed his arms. “Okay, hold on,” he said. “What exactly did I do that requires an apology? I just said what everyone knows. It’s not like I made something up.”

Emily looked like she was holding herself back from rolling her eyes. “Vanir,” she began, her tone patient but strained, “Abel was betrayed by his brother and murdered in cold blood through no fault of his own. It was an extremely awful experience for both him and Adam. You can’t just talk about something like that as if it’s trivia. Would you like it if someone brought up one of your most traumatic moments out of the blue?”

Vanir shrugged, his expression unimpressed. “People bring up my most traumatic moments all the—”

“Don’t deceive them, Vanir. Haven’t you hurt them enough already?”

The voice came from behind him, soft but sharp enough to slice through the silence. His blood went cold. He recognized that voice anywhere.

Vanir turned slowly, his breath catching in his throat. Standing in the doorway was a woman with flowing blonde hair that shimmered like molten gold, her crimson dress pooling around her feet like liquid fire. Her presence alone was enough to freeze him where he stood. The sight of her sent every muscle in his body locking tight, his heart pounding so hard he swore everyone could hear it.

“Though, I guess they call you the prince of lies for a reason. It’s in your nature, isn’t it?”

What could he even say to that? She’s right. She’s always been right. And if anyone had the right to say that, it was her. His wings had folded tight against his back, his hands trembling slightly though he tried to hide it. The sound of his name on her lips hit harder than any blow. He had not seen her in what felt like lifetimes, and yet there she was, looking exactly as he remembered.

How could he have hurt her so bad?

Emily’s voice finally broke through the haze. “Vanir?” she asked gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

The touch startled him back to life. He turned to her quickly, forcing his usual charming smile onto his face. “I’m fine,” he said, the words stumbling out before he could think about them.

When he looked back, the woman was gone. The yard stood empty, the sunlight pouring through as if nothing had ever been there. But Vanir knew better. She would come back soon enough. She always does.

Vanir took a slow breath, his usual smirk nowhere to be found as he turned to face Abel. “Sorry, I know that sort of thing never really goes away. I should have put a bit more thought into my words.”

Abel looked completely taken aback, his golden eyes widening slightly as if he couldn’t believe that someone like Vanir would actually apologize. “Thank you. It means a lot.”

Emily ran forward and pulled Vanir into a tight hug, knocking him back a step. Her wings folded around them, wrapping them both in a protective cocoon that left no room for personal space. “Now that’s the Vanir I know!”

“You’ve known me for like a week,” he said with a crooked smile. Unfortunately, the sincerity in her hug melted through his aloof demeanor, and before he could stop himself, he hugged her back just as tightly. Even his wings moved on instinct, folding around her just as hers curled around him.

“It still counts,” Emily said in a sing-songy tone as she pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. Her smile widened, and before he could react, she reached up and booped his nose with her finger.

“AHEM!”

Both of them turned towards the source of that lovely sound, who was standing exactly where they had left him, bouquet still in hand. His polite smile didn’t quite match the tightness in his posture.

“If you two are done,” Abel said with exaggerated politeness, “I actually brought this bouquet of roses for you, Emily. I was hoping maybe we could grab a bite to eat?”

The sunlight caught on Emily’s hair as she moved closer to him to take the roses from his hand. “Yeah, that would be great,” she said kindly. “Thank you for the flowers.”

Emily gave a quick, cheerful smile before lifting the bouquet slightly. In an instant, it vanished in a flash of white light, leaving behind a faint shimmer that dissolved into the air. Vanir felt his stomach churn as watched the glow fade. Something about it felt off. He might have been reading too much into things, but that was exactly what he used to do with all the gifts from admirers he wasn’t interested in.

Then again, maybe it was just how things worked up here. Maybe Heaven had its own way of handling presents, or maybe she just didn’t want to lug a bunch of roses around all day.

Emily clasped her hands behind her back, looking between the two of them with an easy smile. “Do you mind if Vanir comes along?” she asked.

Okay, nevermind, Abel was doomed. Either she was an entirely new level of dense, or she was playing it safe and pretending not to notice the invitation for what it really was. Regardless, Vanir wasn’t going to let this turn into a group hangout. Not on his watch.

“Actually,” Vanir said, scratching the back of his neck casually, “I think it’s better if I stay home. You know, so I can catch that butterfly that flew away.”

Emily turned toward him, her expression somewhere between amusement and disbelief. “Vanir, it’s getting close to dinner,” she said patiently. “You’d be eating anyway, so you might as well join us.”

“I’m not hungry,” he said flatly.

“Well, unfortunately for you,” Emily replied with a sweet but firm smile, “you don’t really get a choice. I’m required to watch you at all times, remember?”

Vanir’s smile widened, leaning forward just enough to make sure she saw how smug he was acting. “Actually, I’ve been reading that little pamphlet Sera gave you, and it turns out if you ever want a break, you can just call the High Seraphim and I can temporarily stay with her instead.”

“Can you wait one moment, Abel?” Emily asked, her voice was calm but with an edge that made even Vanir feel like he might have pushed too far.

“Uh, sure,” Abel said, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly unsure of what he had just witnessed.

Before Vanir could even move, Emily grabbed him by the wrist, and the world around them dissolved in a flash of white light. The next thing he knew, Vanir found himself standing in a room he had never seen before.

The walls were painted a soft peach color that seemed to shimmer faintly in the light from the window. A king-sized bed sat in the corner, its sheets neat but not perfect, like she had rushed to make it earlier. On the far wall stood a tall wooden bookcase, though instead of holy texts or scrolls, it was filled with video games. Stacks of colorful cases wedged between consoles of all kinds. Controllers were tangled in a mess of cords, and there was even a large TV mounted across from the bed. A few posters decorated the walls, colorful and bright, though Vanir didn’t recognize a single one. They looked like characters from animated shows he had never even heard of.

“This is your room?”

“You can get a better look later,” she said gently. “Right now, I need a favor from you.”

Vanir turned back to Emily with a raised eyebrow. “A favor?”

She nodded again, clasping her hands together. “I understand why you might not want to go out too much after everything that happened this past week, but I would really appreciate it if you joined me on this adventure.”

Vanir stared at her for a moment before suddenly letting out a loud laugh. “Calling it an adventure isn’t going to make me suddenly interested in third wheeling a very obvious date invitation.”

Emily puffed out her cheeks slightly, as her top and bottom wings flared out to create an X shape. “Please don’t call it that! We’re just friends. We’ve been that way for a really long time, and that’s all we’ll ever be.”

Vanir tilted his head, watching her with curiosity. “Why? Abel seems like a really chill dude. He didn’t even blink when he saw I was a demon. That’s saying something around here.”

Emily’s expression softened, and she sat down at the edge of her bed, the mattress dipping slightly beneath her weight. She folded her hands neatly in her lap before speaking. “Alright,” she said after a long pause. “I guess that’s a fair price for your help.”

Vanir crossed his arms and leaned against the nearest wall, silently inviting her to continue.

“The truth is, I’ve been friends with Abel for a really long time. Possibly thousands of years by this point. He’s kind, dependable, and honest. Maybe a little too honest sometimes.” She smiled faintly, her eyes soft with the kind of nostalgia that came with memories too old to count. “I was one of the first people he met after he arrived, and I helped him through… well, you know, the transition.”

Vanir gave a small nod. He didn’t need her to say it. He knew what kind of pain that meant.

“Ever since then,” Emily continued, “he’s treated me like I’m this perfect, untouchable goddess. But I’m not. I’m messy. I screw things up all the time. You’ve only known me for a week, and you already understand that side of me better than he ever did.”

That… didn’t seem right.

“I don’t know Abel,” Vanir said slowly, “but it doesn’t sound like your friendship would have lasted this long if he wasn’t there to help you out when you needed it.”

Emily shook her head gently. “It’s not that simple. He does help. If I ask him for advice, he’ll give it everything he’s got. He’ll analyze, he’ll pray, he’ll research. But he’s not very good at it. I can see how uncomfortable it makes him when he gets a peek behind the curtain.”

She lifted her gaze, meeting Vanir’s eyes. “Do you want to know why it took Abel a week to actually visit us?” she asked quietly. “It’s because he didn’t want to see that messy side of me. He knew I was stressed after the birthday party. I literally texted him about it. But coming over during that time would’ve been hard for him, so he waited until it was easier. And by then, I didn’t really need help anymore.”

She gave a small, tired laugh that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “How can I ever be in a relationship with him if it feels wrong for me to even open up?”

Emily sat a little straighter, her hands clasped neatly in her lap as she met Vanir’s gaze. “That’s why I need your help. I want you to sabotage this outing. Not too much, just enough for him to finally acknowledge that I’m not perfect so he can move on from me in a romantic sense.”

Vanir was almost certain he’d misheard. “Wait, you want me to ruin your date? That seems like the complete antithesis to everything you’ve taught me so far. You’re all about being honest, remember? Can’t you just beat him to the punch and reject him?”

Emily groaned quietly, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’ve tried,” she admitted. “The first time he did something like this, I made it very clear to him that I wanted to keep things casual, but he said it was totally fine and that he didn’t really have those kinds of feelings for me.”

“Big freaking lie.”

“Don’t get me started,” Emily said quickly, pointing a finger at him before he could go on. “The problem with gestures like the one he just did is that they sit right on the border between friendly and romantic. So if I call him out on it every time, it makes me look mean or ungrateful. But if I accept it without saying anything, it’s—”

“Leading him on,” Vanir finished, his tone more understanding now. “Oh, I’m all too familiar with that trap. Thankfully, in Hell, manners are more of a privilege than a right, so it’s pretty easy to tell someone to fuck off when they’re hassling you. I take it that’s not exactly encouraged up here?”

Emily let out a short laugh that carried a trace of exhaustion. “Not really, and I don’t think Abel’s doing it intentionally. That’s what makes it complicated. He treats everyone with the same kind of kindness, but with me… he just goes a bit overboard sometimes. I think it’s because we’ve known each other for so long. He forgets that I’m not the same person I was when we first met.”

She paused for a moment, her gaze drifting toward the floor as she toyed with the edge of her hat. “When we were younger, he used to come to me for everything. He trusted me. I guess, in a way, he still does. But now it’s like he’s stuck seeing me as that one perfect person who always has her act together. And I don’t. I make mistakes, I panic, I cry, and sometimes I completely freeze up when people need me most. I just want him to see that and be okay with it. To stop treating me like something untouchable. I don’t want him to keep loving an idea of me that doesn’t exist.”

Vanir studied her for a long moment, watching how her wings folded slightly inward as if to make herself smaller. He hated it. Emily was usually so confident, and now she resembles a bird in a cage.

“So,” he said after a moment, breaking the silence with a half-smile, “you want me to make this date just uncomfortable enough for him to realize you’re not perfect. That’s the plan?”

Emily nodded, the faintest glimmer of relief crossing her face. “Exactly.”

“Well, you came to the right demon. I just need to go to my room and grab a few things first if that’s okay.”

“That’s fine. I’ll meet you out front,” Emily said warmly. “And Vanir, please try not to go too overboard, alright?”

He let out a laugh that sounded a little too confident for how unsure he actually felt. “Me? Overboard? Never.” He gave a quick salute before turning on his heel and striding quickly out of her room.

The moment he crossed the threshold into his own, the facade crumbled. He shut the door behind him and leaned against it. His wings pressed flat against the smooth surface as his thoughts began to spiral out of control.

He really screwed up this time.

He had just told some random angel, one he had literally met for the first time, that he would help him score a date with the woman in charge of him. And not even ten minutes later, he turned around and promised that same woman he would intentionally sabotage that date.

He ran both hands through his hair as he quickly paced back and forth across the room. “I can’t do both. I can’t possibly do both of those things at once.”

He stopped mid-step, gripping the edge of his dresser as if it might ground him. Should he just ignore the promise he made to Abel? That would be the easiest option, right? But then again, Abel wasn’t just any angel. He was someone with influence here: Adam’s son and Emily’s best friend. He was probably close with Sera too. Making an enemy out of him sounded like a terrible idea.

Vanir’s wings twitched restlessly as his tail flicked from side to side. “But if I go against Emily, that’s even worse,” he whispered. “She could get me kicked out of Heaven for good, and I can’t afford that. Not after everything I went through to get here.”

What if Abel saw through him?

What if Emily got angry?

What if Sera found out he was lying to both of them?

“This is bad,” he said to himself, voice rising just slightly. “This is really, really bad.”

He rubbed his palms against his cheeks and groaned, his eyes darting toward the mirror across the room. His reflection looked back at him with the same mix of frustration and dread he felt building in his chest. That worthless piece of shit. This is all his fault. If he kept his mouth shut instead of constantly trying to show off, none of this would have happened.

Vanir took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, but the more he thought about it, the worse it got. Every plan he came up with ended in disaster. He couldn’t betray Abel without looking unreliable, but he couldn’t defy Emily without risking everything.

He sank onto the edge of his bed, his wings drooping as he stared blankly at the floor. “Why did I agree to both?” he muttered, his voice almost a whisper now. “What was I thinking?”

Vanir’s eyes drifted toward the nightstand beside his bed. Sitting there, gleaming faintly in the soft light, was a crystal ball. It looked harmless at first glance, its surface smooth and flawless, the faint glow inside swirling like trapped fog. But the moment he looked at it, his stomach tightened.

Should he?

He reached out slowly, his fingers brushing against the cool surface before finally lifting it into his hands. The familiar weight of it sent a chill crawling up his spine. He stared into it, his reflection warped in the glass, as the shimmer of light twisted his beautiful face into something hollow. For a few seconds, he just laid there, as he stared at the artifact.

Then, with a sharp breath, he forced himself to set it back down.

“No,” he said under his breath, his voice firm despite the tremor that lingered beneath it. “No, I can’t.”

He put some distance between him and the nightstand, as if the crystal ball itself might pull him in if he got too close. That power, his so-called gift of future vision, had done nothing but poison his life. Every time he used it, he saw things he wished he hadn’t. Outcomes he had to change. People he couldn’t save.

If he had the choice, he would never use it again. Alas, he wasn’t so lucky. He knew that it was the only reason Sera had ever taken a chance on him. Without that gift, he doubted he’d even be allowed in Heaven at all. Only good people deserve to have access to something that powerful, and he was just there as a way to provide it for them.

“If I’m going to get out of this, I’ll do it on my own. Come on, you’re Vanir. The Prince of Pride himself. People love you. You’ve made miracles happen before. You created revolutionary products, you’ve outsmarted Goetia, you’ve pulled off trade deals that made Mammon blow a gasket. You can figure out how not to screw up a date.”

“The problem is that Abel wants to be with Emily, and Emily doesn’t feel the same way. Abel’s side doesn’t give me much to work with, but Emily told me why she doesn’t want to date him. She doesn’t see him as easy to open up to. But if I could get Abel to fix that issue, then maybe she’ll give him another chance!”

He smiled faintly, the first real spark of confidence returning to his eyes. “How do I make him seem reliable, though?”

Aridane?

“It’ll look like a callout from Emily’s perspective, and it’ll give Abel the chance to show some vulnerability. He can comfort her, connect with her, and actually prove he’s the kind of person who can help her through her emotions.”

“Yeah, this might actually work!” Vanir said as he flashed his signature smile.

“You really are a good actor.”

The voice came so suddenly that Vanir’s heart almost stopped. His eyes widened, and he spun around, scanning every corner of his room. The space was empty, silent except for the faint hum of air through the vents. Then his gaze caught movement in the mirror above his vanity.

There she was.

The same blonde woman. The same red dress. The same cold, knowing gaze that sent a chill through his entire body. She was standing inside the reflection like the glass itself had become her doorway.

Vanir’s throat tightened. He took a shaky breath, then forced himself to sit down at the vanity in front of her.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, trying to sound casual. “You’re such a shitty hallucination. Why would you even enter that mirror if you’re trying to pretend to be her? Everyone knows that only I have that power.”

The woman tilted her head, her black lips curving into something that resembled a smirk, but lacked any warmth. “It’s honestly impressive. The way you manage to lie to yourself so perfectly. You’ve always been talented at masking the real reason why you do things.”

Vanir scoffed, though his hands trembled faintly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I got myself into a sticky situation, and I wormed my way out of it by the skin of my teeth. It’s the Vanir way.”

Her gaze didn’t waver. “Do you really think that setting up Emily with the perfect man will fix what you did to me?” she asked.

“That’s not what I’m trying to do,” he said quickly, though even to his own ears, the words sounded hollow.

“Oh, but it is,” the woman replied, her tone as calm as it was accusing. “And I’m not going to let you lie to yourself about that. It’s my job to keep you honest, remember?”

Vanir’s lips curled into a bitter half-smile. “That’s a fool’s mission.”

“Perhaps,” she said with a faint sigh, her eyes softening just a little. “One that I unfortunately agreed to.”

The air between them felt heavier now, almost suffocating. The woman’s reflection stepped closer in the mirror, her pale fingers brushing the inside of the glass like she could almost reach through it. He desperately wished she could.

“Tell me something,” she said quietly. “Does Emily remind you of me?”

He didn’t answer at first, but the silence said enough. “She does,” he finally admitted. “Does that make me worse than before? Replacing you like this, after what I did to you?”

The woman’s expression didn’t change, but her gaze seemed to pierce right through him. “What do you think the answer to that question is?”

Vanir’s eyes stayed locked on hers, as if the mere act of blinking would break whatever thin thread still held him together. He didn’t bother to defend himself this time. There was no point. She already knew every answer he could ever give.

The woman’s gaze softened, but it wasn’t mercy that filled it. It was pity. “Ariadne was doing you a favor that day. I hope you remember to finish what she started.”

Vanir’s gaze slowly panned across the room until it landed on the nightstand beside his bed. The crystal ball was now glowing a bright red. It was almost as if it already knew what he was about to say.

“I will.”