City of Angels II

Lia moved through the empty streets with a renewed sense of unease. The man’s words haunted her—they stop because they recognize you. The idea that these once-human creatures, these angels, still had some semblance of memory, that they could recall fragments of their past lives, sent chills down her spine. What did that mean for her? What had the angel recognized in her face that made it hesitate?

The night seemed to close in around her, and every distant sound—a creaking sign, the hiss of steam escaping a broken pipe, the occasional crackle of dying electricity—set her on edge. She needed answers, but she also needed to stay alive long enough to find them.

The Lower District was treacherous. With the angels lurking, and ghouls prowling for easy prey, the wrong step could end her. She stuck to the shadows, slipping through narrow alleys and abandoned shops, trying to keep her thoughts focused on survival. But it was difficult. That encounter—the angel—its wings, its face, the moment of recognition, it all felt like a bad dream she couldn’t wake from.

As she approached the old train depot—a relatively safe hideout, or so she’d heard—her senses sharpened. The depot was another ghost of the city’s former life. Rusting train cars sat like forgotten relics on tracks overgrown with weeds and moss. The structure was crumbling in places, but it was intact enough to offer shelter.

Lia quietly slipped inside through a broken window, her eyes scanning the dimly lit interior. It looked abandoned, which was a good sign. She needed time to think, to process everything, to figure out her next move.

She moved toward the far end of the depot, where old benches and crates were piled up, a makeshift barricade from another survivor, long gone now. There was an overturned chair and some torn blankets—a sad reminder that others had passed through here, just as desperate to survive as she was.

Lia set down her pack and let out a long, slow breath. She could finally relax, if only for a moment. But as her body relaxed, her mind raced. What was it about her that had made the angel hesitate? Could it have been a fluke? Some malfunction in the mutation? Or was there something more to it?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a distant sound, barely audible over the creaking of the depot. A whisper of movement. Lia tensed, her hand instinctively reaching for her blade. She crouched low, listening. The noise grew louder—footsteps.

Her heart pounded. She scanned the shadows, ready to strike, when a figure emerged from the darkness.

“Lia.” The voice was familiar, calm, yet carried a hint of urgency.

Her eyes narrowed as she recognized the silhouette. “Kit?”

Kit was one of the few contacts she trusted in the district—an information broker and smuggler who had a knack for showing up when least expected. He stepped into the faint light of the depot, his wiry frame and tousled hair a welcome sight, but his expression was anything but reassuring.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, looking around nervously. “This place isn’t safe anymore. Angels have been sighted nearby.”

Lia’s breath caught. “I ran into one earlier.”

Kit’s eyes widened. “And you’re still alive? You’re either incredibly lucky, or—”

“It hesitated,” Lia interrupted. “It looked at me, almost like it… remembered something.”

Kit’s brow furrowed. “Remembered? That’s not how it works. Angels are nothing but predators now. They don’t think—they can’t think.”

“Well, this one did. At least for a moment.” Lia glanced away, trying to piece together the memory of the encounter. “It saw me and stopped. Just long enough for me to get away.”

Kit rubbed his chin thoughtfully, pacing in small circles. “There have been rumours, you know. Stories of angels that act… differently. No one’s sure why, but if what you’re saying is true, then it’s not just a glitch. It’s something else.”

Lia’s stomach churned. She had hoped for answers, but this only opened up more questions. “Do you know anyone who might know more?”

Kit sighed. “There’s a group—used to be scientists, researchers, before the Surge. They’ve been studying the angels, trying to figure out what went wrong. They’re not easy to find, though. They operate out of the abandoned labs on the edge of the city.”

“Labs?” Lia hadn’t considered venturing that far yet, but if there were answers to be found, she’d take the risk. “How do I find them?”

“You don’t,” Kit replied, his tone grave. “They find you. But… I could put out feelers, let them know you’re looking.”

Lia frowned. She didn’t like relying on others, especially when it came to something as dangerous as this, but she didn’t have much of a choice. “Do it.”

Kit nodded. “I’ll need time. Stay low until I contact you.”

He turned to leave, but paused at the doorway. “And Lia, whatever you do—don’t let anyone else know about this. The wrong people get wind of angels remembering things… it won’t just be the angels you’ll need to worry about.”

Lia nodded, understanding the weight of his words. The depot fell silent once Kit was gone, leaving her alone with her thoughts again. The quiet was suffocating, and the weight of the situation pressed down on her like a leaden cloak.

The angel had recognized her—or something about her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that this encounter was only the beginning of something much bigger. And in a world as broken as this one, bigger things usually meant worse things.

Lia drifted between sleep and alertness, the stillness of the depot only interrupted by the occasional rustling of debris outside. Her mind was racing, but exhaustion finally pulled her under. The angel's hollow gaze haunted her, flickering just behind her eyelids.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been resting when something pulled her back to reality. It wasn’t noise—just an overwhelming feeling, a shift in the air, the same gut instinct that had saved her life more than once.

Lia blinked, slowly sitting up, hand already reaching for her blade. She wasn’t alone.

Her eyes darted across the dimly lit depot. At first, she couldn’t see anything out of place. Everything seemed exactly as she’d left it, but the air felt heavier, more oppressive. Her skin prickled with unease.

Then, from the far corner, just past the shadows where the light barely touched, she saw it—a shape, slight and almost imperceptible, standing utterly still.

An angel.

It had somehow crept into the depot while she was resting, without a sound, without alerting her. Lia's breath caught in her throat. How long had it been there? Watching her?

The creature was motionless, its tall, gaunt form hanging silently in the darkness. Its arms hung unnaturally at its sides, long fingers curled slightly as if they had once known how to grasp something but had forgotten. Those ethereal wings like stained glass twitched faintly in the dim light, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Its head was cocked slightly, and what passed for its eyes gleamed from within its hollowed sockets.

Lia gripped her blade tighter, her pulse quickening. Stay calm, she told herself. The angel hadn’t moved. It hadn’t charged. She could still escape—she had to. But why wasn’t it attacking? She knew the proximity was more than enough to trigger aggression. They were relentless predators, attacking anything that strayed too close.

Yet, this one… this one just stood there, staring.

“Why…?” Lia muttered under her breath, taking a slow, cautious step back, eyes locked on the creature. There was no answer, no sign of intent—just the unwavering gaze of something that had long since abandoned its humanity.

Lia weighed her options. She could run—she’d need to move fast. The depot had multiple exits, but there was no guarantee she could reach one before the angel snapped out of its trance. Her other option was to attack first, while it remained still. But engaging an angel up close was a death sentence. Their strength far outweighed anything she could muster.

She took another step back, her movements slow and deliberate. Her foot nudged a loose piece of metal on the floor. The clatter echoed sharply through the depot.

The angel’s head jerked slightly in response, its gaze sharpening. The stillness shattered. It twitched, its hands flexing for the first time. Lia’s heart jumped into her throat. The tension in the air thickened, becoming almost suffocating.

And then it moved.

The shift from statue to hunter was so quick, so fluid, that Lia barely registered it. The angel lurched forward, its wings gleaming with sudden sharpness, the sudden motion transforming it from a passive observer into a terrifying predator. It lurched toward her, its emaciated form blinking in and out of reality as it crossed the room.

Run!

Lia bolted, her feet pounding against the concrete floor as she darted between rusting train cars. The angel was right behind her—she could hear the dull scratching of its wings scraping against walls and remnants of furniture as it gave chase. She pushed herself harder, weaving between obstacles, desperately trying to shake it off. But angels didn’t tire, and they didn’t lose focus once locked onto prey. The only thing that could save her now was getting out of its range—getting far enough away that it would lose interest.

Lia spotted an opening in the wall ahead, barely wide enough to squeeze through, but it was her only chance. She dove for it, scrambling through the narrow gap just as the angel’s outstretched hand grazed her back, its claws slicing through her jacket like razors.

She hit the ground hard on the other side, tumbling into the alley. Pain shot through her shoulder, but she forced herself up, adrenaline masking the worst of it. She didn’t stop to look back. She couldn’t.

She ran.

Her legs carried her through the alley, down the side streets, and over broken fences. She ran until the pounding in her chest and the burn in her lungs became unbearable. Only when she was certain that she had put enough distance between herself and the depot did she finally slow.

Panting heavily, Lia stumbled to a halt, pressing her back against the cold brick wall of a nearby building. Her hands were shaking, and she clutched her blade tightly, as if it could offer any real protection against what she had just escaped.

The angel hadn’t followed her out of the depot. Its range had been reached—200 meters, just like Kit had said. But that didn’t make her feel any safer. The memory of its hollow gaze, the way it had watched her, still lingered in her mind.

Something was different about them. And she was going to find out why.

Lia closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing. She had survived one more encounter, but the city was full of angels—and the answers she sought might lead her into even greater danger.

What did they see in me? she thought again, the question gnawing at the back of her mind.

But she would have to figure it out later. For now, she needed to rest, to recover. And then… Then she would get her answers.

The glowing white orbs burned into her memory as Lia leaned against the wall, her breath still ragged. She could feel her pulse racing, each beat a reminder of how close she had come to death. Those orbs—blank, emotionless—weren’t meant to see the way human eyes did, yet they had tracked her with terrifying precision. They were light, and yet they conveyed nothing but emptiness.

She swallowed hard, the image of the angel’s approach still vivid in her mind. It hadn’t hunted her, not at first. It had just stood there, its eyes locked onto her like it was studying, analyzing. And then—only after she had made that sound—had it moved. Almost as though it had been waiting for something.

Lia tried to push the thought aside. She was safe for now. Safe enough. But the questions persisted, buzzing in her mind like gnats. What had made it wait? Why hadn’t it attacked immediately? Angels were ruthless, striking at  anything within their range. Not this one though.

The city was quiet around her now, save for the occasional distant hum of some machinery. No movement in the streets. No sign of life. Just her, the shadows, and the lingering memory of those glowing orbs.

She wiped the sweat from her brow and forced herself to stand straighter. The ache in her shoulder from her fall had begun to intensify, but there was no time to tend to it. She couldn’t stay here. The city’s dark corners might have provided temporary shelter, but they wouldn’t shield her from the angels forever. They were drawn to movement, to disruption in the stillness. She had learned that the hard way.

The depot wasn’t safe anymore. But she needed more than safety—she needed to understand.

Lia’s mind wandered back to the stories she’d heard about the Surge event, the cataclysm that had mutated things like the angels into existence. No one knew exactly what had triggered it, only that it had torn through the world like a storm, warping everything in its path. Most agreed that it was an overflow of mana—magic gone awry in a sudden burst. Others however, claimed it was a mutation of nature itself, a grotesque reaction to humanity’s tampering with forces they didn’t fully understand.

What was clear, though, was that the angels were an unintended consequence. Twisted, radiant beings, born from the event, cursed to hunt with those blank, glowing orbs.

But they didn’t just hunt for food, Lia thought. They hunted for something else.

The memory of the angel standing motionless, its orbs glowing faintly in the depot’s dim light, gnawed at her. What had it been waiting for? It wasn’t hunger, wasn’t aggression—it was something different. Something cold, calculated.

She shivered and glanced down the street. Her best chance was to get to the outskirts of the city, closer to where Kit had last set up shop. He would know what to do, or at least have some theories about the angel’s strange behaviour. Kit always did.

Pushing herself off the wall, she began moving again, her eyes constantly scanning her surroundings. The streets were a maze of ruined buildings, toppled statues, and debris-strewn alleys. Any of them could hide angels, waiting in the dark, their glowing eyes scanning the night for movement.

As she passed a shattered storefront, something caught her eye—a flicker of light. Lia froze, heart pounding in her chest. She narrowed her gaze, and her breath caught in her throat.

An angel.

It was inside the ruined building, its tall, skeletal frame framed by the crumbling walls. Those glowing orbs fixed on something she couldn’t see. It didn’t move. Just stood there, watching… waiting.

Her stomach twisted as she realized it wasn’t watching her. It hadn’t noticed her yet.

Slowly, Lia backed away, careful not to make a sound. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Angels were unpredictable creatures, moving from stillness to deadly pursuit in the blink of an eye. But this one, for whatever reason, was focused on something–its attention drawn to something deeper inside. Her curiosity flared, but she crushed it quickly. Now wasn’t the time to investigate.

She turned to slip away when the air shifted again—a sudden change in the atmosphere, like a faint ripple moving through the street. Lia tensed, a pit forming in her stomach as she recognised the feeling. It was that same tension she had felt in the depot.

Another one.

She whipped her head around, her eyes searching frantically.

There. Just down the street.

It hovered above the ground, its maw hanging open, dozens of needle-like teeth exposed to the air, its glowing orbs fixed on her. Lia’s pulse quickened. The glow of those eyes was unsettling, reflecting no emotion, only an eerie, cold hunger. 

Damn.

This one had seen her. It didn’t wait. It didn’t hesitate.

It moved, flickering toward her.

Lia’s instincts kicked in, and she darted to the side, weaving through the debris-laden street as the angel chased after her. Its speed was otherworldly, floating with terrifying ease over the obstacles that littered the ground. 

She dove into an alley, sliding down a slope of broken concrete, her muscles screaming in protest. The angel was right behind her, its glowing orbs locking onto her like a predator on the scent.

She knew she couldn't run forever. It would catch her.

Her heart pounded as she backed up, her gaze locked on the sky. The alley was a dead end. No escape.

A familiar sensation prickled the back of her neck—the faint ripple of energy in the air that signaled a teleport. She barely had time to react as the angel blinked into existence, appearing just a few meters behind her.

Lia’s mind raced. She needed an exit, a way out, but there was none. She was cornered. Desperation clawed at her as she spun to face the angel. It slowed as it approached, as if savoring the moment.

“Damn it...” Lia’s hand clenched around the hilt of her knife, her pulse hammering in her ears.

The angel’s orbs gleamed brighter as it neared, its translucent wings casting a soft, ethereal glow on the alley walls. She could feel the pull of its presence—an unnatural, gravitational force that almost made her limbs feel heavier.

But before it could strike, there was a sudden, deafening roar from above. A burst of bright light cut through the darkness, and the angel froze, its head snapping upward in a sharp, unnatural motion.

Lia’s eyes widened as a figure leaped down from the rooftop, landing between her and the angel with a resounding thud.

"Get back," the voice growled.

Kit.

Before she could even process his arrival, Kit raised his custom weapon—an intricately designed plasma cannon with a shimmering barrel—and fired. The energy beam slammed into the angel with a blast of heat and light, forcing it backward.

But it wasn’t over. The angel flickered again—teleporting just a short distance to the left, evading the full force of the attack. It reappeared in a blink, hovering inches above the ground, its orbs still glowing with that same predatory intensity.

Kit gritted his teeth and adjusted his aim. “Persistent bastards.”

The angel blinked forward again, its movement swift and soundless, as if it was slipping between dimensions. Each teleport brought it closer, its ethereal wings beating silently against the air. It darted toward them, faster than before.

Lia's instincts kicked in. She raised her weapon and fired, aiming for the center of its glowing orbs. The shots hit home, but the angel barely flinched—its unnatural form absorbing the impact as it closed the gap.

Kit fired again, this time hitting the creature squarely in the chest. The blast tore through its midsection, ripping apart the glowing light that held its form together. The angel shuddered, its body flickering wildly before disintegrating in a flash of radiant energy.

The street fell into silence.

Lia lowered her weapon, her breathing laboured. She glanced at Kit, who stood with his plasma cannon still humming in his hands.

“You okay?” Kit asked, his voice a mix of concern and relief.

Lia nodded, though she still felt the tremors of adrenaline coursing through her body. "Close... too close."

Kit looked down at the spot where the angel had vanished, his expression dark. “Either they’re getting smarter, or something’s changing.”

She followed his gaze. The way the angel had teleported, the way it had hovered instead of charging—it was unlike anything she’d encountered before.

And it terrified her.

"Come on," Kit said, glancing at the sky. "We need to move before more of them show up."

Lia nodded, casting one last glance at the spot where the angel had been. Those glowing orbs would haunt her, she knew.