Halochassis

Since Shin was still angry, Lireina decided to ask for a compromise rather than force him to confront feelings he was not ready to face. She invited him to a quiet bar in the business district of Luminous City, a place far removed from the noisy streets and crowded establishments of the lower districts. 

The bar was luxurious without being excessively loud, with polished wooden tables, warm golden lights, and tall windows overlooking the glittering streets outside. The faint scent of expensive wine mixed with the aroma of freshly prepared food, while a violinist played somewhere near the corner of the room. The gentle music floated through the air, soft enough that it did not interrupt their conversation. For a while, the two simply sat across from each other, enjoying their expensive glasses of wine in the peaceful atmosphere. The crimson liquid shimmered whenever the light caught it, and Shin could feel the smooth warmth of the alcohol spreading down his throat whenever he took a sip.

“I figured that you don’t like coffees, so I treated you to a glass of wine,” Lireina jokingly said as she lifted her glass. There was a playful smile on her face, the kind of smile she often used whenever she wanted to make a difficult situation feel a little less heavy. She took a small sip, letting the wine linger on her tongue before placing the glass back onto the table. 

Shin, however, could not bring himself to smile. The music, the expensive wine, the warm lighting, and even Lireina’s attempts to cheer him up could not completely push the thoughts inside his head away. He stared at the wine in front of him, watching the surface tremble slightly as his fingers rested against the glass.

Shin scoffed softly, his voice carrying none of his usual sarcasm. “I’m sorry, Lena.” The words came out quietly, almost as if saying them required more courage than he expected. 

Lireina stopped sipping and lowered her glass, her attention immediately shifting toward him. She watched Shin’s crimson eyes as the anger within them slowly gave way to something heavier. Guilt lingered there, mixed with exhaustion and a sadness that Shin was desperately trying to keep buried. The faint violin melody continued in the background, creating an almost painfully peaceful contrast to the turmoil inside him. For several seconds, Shin remained silent, his shoulders tense and his jaw clenched, as if he was struggling to force the next words out of himself.

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t forgive Qinglong,” Shin muttered as he placed a hand against his chest and gripped the fabric over his heart. His fingers tightened as though he could physically squeeze the pain away. “I thought I would have closure, but I just... can’t.” His voice trembled slightly at the end. 

He had gone into that confrontation believing that finally facing Qinglong would somehow make everything easier. He had imagined that punching him, screaming at him, or hearing his explanation would finally settle the anger that had been eating away at him since Manny died. Instead, he had discovered that grief did not disappear simply because he had finally confronted the person he blamed. The wound was still there, raw and deep, and Shin did not know what he was supposed to do with it.

Lireina slowly reached across the table and held Shin’s hand. Her fingers were warm against his, and the gentle pressure immediately made Shin’s tense hand loosen slightly. She did not tell him that he was wrong. She did not tell him that he needed to forgive Qinglong for the sake of moving forward. Instead, she simply stayed there, holding his hand as the violin continued to sing softly somewhere behind them. When Shin finally looked at her, Lireina smiled. Her green eyes twinkled beneath the warm lights of the bar, bright and lively despite the sadness hidden behind her expression.

“I understand, Shin,” Lireina said gently. “I know how it feels to lose someone dear to you. I too... had a hard time forgiving those who have sinned against me.” Her voice remained calm, almost soothing, but there was something unusual beneath it. Shin could hear a faint heaviness in her words, something that suggested her own memories were far darker than she was willing to explain. Lireina continued smiling, but for just a moment, her eyes seemed distant, as if she were looking at something that was no longer in the bar with them.

“Really?” Shin asked. His voice carried genuine surprise. He had always thought of Lireina as someone who could smile through almost anything. She was cheerful, optimistic, and sometimes almost ridiculously innocent. Seeing that she too had carried resentment toward people who had hurt her made Shin realize that perhaps he had misunderstood her all this time. Perhaps beneath that bright smile was someone who had experienced pain just as deeply as he had.

“In fact, I don’t think you can call it forgiveness,” Lireina said, gently rubbing her thumb against the back of Shin’s hand. “Because I already let go of their sins when they were already gone from this world.” Her words were delivered with the same gentle smile, but something ominous lurked beneath them. 

There was a strange finality to the way she spoke, as if the people she was talking about were not simply forgiven but had been completely removed from her life. The violin continued playing a beautiful melody, yet Shin suddenly found the music strangely cold. For a brief moment, he wondered what exactly Lireina had gone through before they met, and what kind of people had forced someone like her to speak with such quiet certainty about death.

There was something ominous in those words that Lireina had unleashed, something that Shin could feel even though he could not quite explain it. Still, he believed in Lireina’s smile. He believed in the warmth of her hand around his and the sincerity in her green eyes. Shin convinced himself that there was probably more to the story, perhaps some painful detail that she simply did not want to share. Maybe it was a white lie, the kind people told when the complete truth was too painful to explain. And for Shin, that was fine. He did not need to know everything. Lireina had chosen to comfort him, and that alone was enough.

What was not fine, however, was the lie Shin was giving himself. Shin could forgive Qinglong. Deep down, he knew that. He could simply let go of his hatred toward him and accept that the two of them were already even. Qinglong had suffered from Shin’s anger, and Shin had suffered from Qinglong’s actions. Perhaps there was nothing left to settle between them. Perhaps Manny’s death was something Shin would eventually have to accept as an irreversible part of his past. He could walk away from Qinglong, stop thinking about him, and continue living his life beside Lireina. It was possible. Shin knew it was possible. Yet the moment he imagined truly forgiving Qinglong, something inside him recoiled violently.

Because what would that make him?

The mere thought of forgiveness made Shin feel as though the foundation beneath him was beginning to crumble. For so long, his hatred had given direction to his life. His anger had kept him moving when grief wanted to drag him into the darkness. His desire for revenge had given meaning to every sleepless night, every wound, every battle, and every sacrifice he had made since Manny’s death. 

If he finally forgave Qinglong, what would remain? What purpose would he have after removing the very thing that had driven him forward? The uncomfortable truth was that Shin did not merely endure his revenge. He enjoyed every part of it. He enjoyed watching the people responsible suffer. He enjoyed seeing the fear in the eyes of those who once believed themselves untouchable. For a man who had spent his entire life feeling powerless, revenge had given him something that almost resembled control.

That was the reality for Shin. He was not secretly noble beneath all his anger. He was not some pure-hearted victim who simply needed to forgive his enemies and move on. There was something broken inside him, something that had existed long before Manny’s death and had only been given a reason to reveal itself. 

Shin had been born defective, and perhaps that defect was not something that could be repaired simply by forgiving the people who had hurt him. The thought frightened him more than he wanted to admit. As he sat across from Lireina beneath the warm lights of the luxurious bar, with gentle violin music filling the air and her hand still wrapped around his, Shin realized that the greatest enemy he had to confront might not have been Qinglong at all. It might have been the part of himself that had learned to love hatred.

Shin and Lireina enjoyed the rest of their dinner while deliberately talking about other things, steering the conversation away from Qinglong, Manny, and all the other painful subjects that had weighed heavily on Shin throughout the evening. 

The two lovebirds did not want to let a gloomy atmosphere settle between them, especially after finally having a chance to spend some peaceful time together. Lireina brought up small and almost meaningless topics, from funny things she had seen during her patrols to the strange habits of people around Luminous City, and Shin occasionally responded with dry remarks that made her laugh. Their wine slowly disappeared from their glasses as the hours passed, while the violinist continued playing soft melodies in the background. 

Outside the large windows, the business district gradually became quieter, though the streets were still illuminated by countless lamps and magical signs that painted the glass with shifting colors. For those few hours, Shin allowed himself to forget about Halochassis, Qinglong, the Iron Bandits, and the uncertain fate of Adzeel. He simply enjoyed being with Lireina.

It was already midnight when Shin finally made his way back home to his apartment. The streets of Luminous City had become noticeably quieter, with most of the crowds from earlier in the evening already gone. A cool night breeze brushed against his face as he walked, carrying the faint smells of rain-soaked stone, distant food stalls, and the smoke of chimneys from buildings scattered throughout the city. Shin eventually reached his apartment building, climbed the familiar stairs, and stopped in front of his door. However, before he even reached for the handle, something immediately caught his attention. Light was spilling from beneath the door. The lamps inside were still on, casting a thin golden line across the dark hallway.

Risha must have gone back, Shin thought. He remembered that she had been staying at his apartment after everything that happened, and he assumed that she had finally returned after spending enough time there. The thought was not particularly strange, so Shin simply unlocked the door and stepped inside. However, the moment he entered, he immediately realized that something was different. The apartment was unusually quiet, and there was a heavy feeling in the air that did not belong to an ordinary late-night visit. Shin’s eyes slowly adjusted to the warm light coming from the lamps, and he noticed that Risha was not alone. Aether was sitting inside as well. The two of them appeared to have been waiting for him to come home, and sitting on the table between them were two Halochassis gloves. Their metallic surfaces reflected the yellow light from the lamps, making the equipment look almost strangely alive in the otherwise quiet apartment.

“Shin. We’ve been waiting for you,” Aether greeted with a smile. His expression was friendly, but Shin immediately noticed that the smile did not quite reach his eyes. There was a tiredness in Aether’s face that made the greeting feel more serious than it sounded. 

On the other side of the table sat Risha, who looked considerably different from the woman Shin had seen earlier. She appeared irritated, almost pissed, but there was also something underneath that anger. Her eyes looked slightly watery, and she kept her gaze lowered toward the table as if she did not want Shin to see her expression clearly. Her shoulders were tense, and one of her hands was clenched tightly against her lap. Shin immediately sensed that something had happened while he was away.

“You shouldn’t have,” Shin said as he hung his coat on the nearby rack. His voice carried a hint of annoyance, but there was also genuine curiosity underneath it. He glanced from Aether to Risha, then toward the two Halochassis gloves sitting on the table. The sight of them made his instincts immediately become alert. Aether did not normally come to his apartment in the middle of the night just to talk, and the presence of both gloves made the situation feel even more serious. Shin slowly walked toward the table, his footsteps sounding louder than usual against the quiet floor.

“What I’m going to say to you is important, so we made time until you came home,” Aether said. He leaned back slightly in his chair, keeping his eyes on Shin. His tone was calm, but there was a finality to it that Shin did not like. Shin looked at Risha again. She was still refusing to speak, but the expression on her face told him that whatever Aether was about to say was not something she wanted to hear. Her anger was still there, but the moisture gathering in her eyes made it clear that anger was not the only emotion she was struggling with. Shin could feel a knot forming in his stomach as he studied her. The apartment suddenly felt much colder than it had moments ago.

Maybe Adzeel was already executed, judging from Risha’s expression, Shin thought. 

The possibility immediately entered his mind. Risha had been worried about Adzeel ever since their defeat, and the two had a complicated history that went far beyond simply being comrades in the Iron Bandits. If Adzeel had already been executed by the Celestial Wardens, Shin could understand why Risha looked like that. He briefly wondered if the authorities had somehow carried out the execution while they were eating dinner, and the thought made his chest tighten.

“What is it? Any news about Adzeel?” Shin asked. His voice became more serious as he pulled out a chair and sat down. He placed both hands on the table and stared directly at Aether, waiting for an answer. Risha finally raised her eyes slightly, but she still said nothing. The silence lasted for several seconds, with only the faint hum of the lamps filling the apartment.

“No. We hit a dead end,” Risha finally spoke. Her voice was quiet and strained. The words were simple, but the frustration behind them was obvious. She looked away again, her lips pressing into a thin line. Shin frowned at the answer. If Adzeel was still alive, then why did both of them look as though they had just received terrible news?

“What do you mean, ‘a dead end’?” Shin asked. His eyebrows tightened as confusion replaced his initial assumption. He had expected news about Adzeel, whether good or bad, but this was something else entirely. Aether remained silent for a moment before slowly reaching toward the Halochassis glove lying on the table. His fingers curled around the metal equipment, lifting it carefully as the joints produced a quiet mechanical click. Shin watched him closely, suddenly aware that whatever came next had nothing to do with Adzeel.

Aether stood up and offered his Halochassis glove, Samael, toward Shin. The blue, white, and black armor components caught the warm light as he held the equipment in his hands. For a moment, Shin simply stared at it. Samael had been more than a weapon to Aether. It had been the means through which he had fought alongside the Iron Bandits, faced the Celestial Wardens, and pursued the justice he had wanted for so long. Seeing him voluntarily hand it over made Shin’s stomach sink.

“I quit,” Aether said.

“What?” Shin asked. The single word escaped his mouth before he could even process what he had heard. He stared at Aether, then at Samael, as if looking at the Halochassis glove would somehow make the meaning of those words clearer. Aether’s expression remained calm, but there was sadness behind his eyes. Risha finally looked up, and Shin noticed that her expression had become even more complicated. She was angry, but it was the kind of anger that came from knowing she could not stop something she desperately wanted to prevent.

“It pains me to say this, but I have already decided this a long time ago,” Aether said. His fingers tightened slightly around Samael before he continued. “I never wanted to join the Iron Bandits. I just wanted to serve justice against Saint Elwyn. That was my reason for taking up this armor. That was the reason I was willing to fight and put myself in danger.” His voice remained steady, but every word carried the weight of someone who had already made peace with his decision. “But now that she is dead, the reason I had for continuing is gone. I planned to help out the Iron Bandits in doing their assassinations for one or two more Celestial Wardens, but...” Aether paused, lowering his gaze toward the Halochassis glove in his hands. “The Iron Bandits are no more, Shin.”

The words settled over the room like a heavy blanket. Shin remained completely silent, staring at Aether as the meaning slowly sank into him. The Iron Bandits had spent so long preparing to fight the Celestial Wardens that the idea of their enemies simply disappearing from the board felt almost unreal. Their entire purpose had been built around those ten powerful heroes, yet now the people they had sworn to kill were already gone. Aether had no enemy left to pursue, no personal revenge left to fuel him, and no reason to continue wearing Samael. Shin looked at the Halochassis glove once more, then at Aether’s tired expression, realizing that this was not merely a resignation. For Aether, it was the end of the war he had been fighting for years.

“And just like that, you will leave?” Risha’s voice cracked as she stared at Aether, the anger in her expression struggling against the tears gathering in her eyes. Her hands tightened against her lap, her fingers trembling as she tried to keep herself composed. “You’re leaving Adzeel, a dear friend who helped you, in the air?” The accusation came out sharper than she intended, but there was desperation underneath it. Risha had already lost so much, and Adzeel was one of the few people from the Iron Bandits she still had left. The thought of abandoning him while he was still somewhere in the hands of the Celestial Wardens was almost unbearable to her. The warm light of Shin’s apartment reflected faintly in her watery eyes, making the tears even more noticeable as she struggled not to let them fall.

“I would like to help him,” Aether said. His voice was quiet, and there was genuine sadness behind his words. “I truly do. But we have no information about him. We don’t even know if he’s alive or dead!” He looked down at the Halochassis glove in his hands, his thumb slowly brushing against its cold metallic surface. The armor felt heavier than it normally did, despite its familiar weight. “Besides...” Aether’s voice weakened as he hesitated, as if he had been trying to avoid saying what he was about to admit. 

He eventually sat down, placing Samael carefully on the table before gripping the Halochassis glove with both hands. His shoulders sank, and for the first time that night, the usually dependable Aether looked genuinely exhausted.

“Call me a coward, because that is what I am...” Aether said. He took a slow breath, his eyes fixed on the armor resting before him. “But I am scared. We never had a chance to win against Alexander Goldheart.” 

The admission hung heavily in the apartment. Shin knew exactly what Aether meant. Alexander had defeated them with overwhelming ease, possessing the kind of power that made even their strongest preparations seem meaningless. 

“And I doubt that you’re planning to kill Lireina Ashford, Shin,” Aether continued. His gaze slowly shifted toward Shin. “If anything, I think you would sooner throw away the entire Iron Bandits than point your weapon at her.” There was no accusation in his voice. It was simply an uncomfortable truth that everyone in the room already knew.

Shin was silenced. His eyes lowered toward the table as Aether’s words struck a place he had been avoiding. He glanced toward Risha, who looked as though she was about to cry from sheer rage. Her lips trembled, but she refused to let the tears fall. Shin could see the question forming in her expression before she even spoke it. The room suddenly felt unbearably quiet, with the faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the apartment becoming strangely noticeable. Shin had no excuse that could make everything easier. He could not pretend that Aether was wrong, nor could he lie about what Lireina meant to him.

“Shin, is that true?” Risha asked. Her voice was quieter now, but somehow that made it hurt more. She stared directly at him, searching his face for an answer she already suspected she knew. 

Shin remained silent for several seconds, his crimson eyes avoiding hers before he finally nodded slowly. He did not say a single word. That small movement was enough. Risha’s expression tightened as though someone had struck her, and the tears that had been gathering in her eyes finally threatened to spill.

“Why?” Risha asked.

“Because I love Lena,” Shin said. The words came without hesitation. His voice was quiet but firm, and there was no shame in the way he said them. “She is an innocent victim out of all of the sins of the Celestial Wardens.” Shin looked down at his hands, remembering Lireina’s smile from earlier that night, the warmth of her hand holding his, and the peaceful hours they had spent together. He could not imagine raising Azazel against her. No matter what the other Celestial Wardens had done, Lireina was different in his eyes. She was not someone he could turn into another target simply because she belonged to the same group.

“Then we will exclude her!” Risha immediately said. She leaned forward, desperation replacing the anger in her voice. “We have to free Adzeel from Alexander Goldheart! And you still have a score to settle against Qinglong, right?” Her voice rose as she spoke, almost pleading with Shin to find another answer. “We don’t have to kill Lena. We can leave her alone and focus on everyone else. We can still fight. We can still rescue Adzeel.” Her words came faster now, as if she was desperately trying to rebuild the Iron Bandits before they completely fell apart. “You can’t just throw everything away after everything we’ve been through!”

Shin remained quiet for a moment before finally answering. “As for Alexander... we have no chance of winning, Risha.” He spoke those words with painful certainty. His memories of Alexander Goldheart were still fresh, from the terrifying pressure of his presence to the effortless way he had dismantled their forces. Shin lowered his gaze, remembering how powerless they had been against someone who seemed almost impossible to defeat. “And earlier, Qinglong asked for my forgiveness. I already took the life of his lover, so I think we’re square, so...” His voice trailed off as he tried to explain himself. He did not even know if he believed his own words completely. The anger was still somewhere inside him, but after confronting Qinglong, Shin had begun to realize that revenge had already taken something from both of them.

“So you two quit!?” Risha suddenly asked. Her voice exploded through the apartment, loud enough to make Shin flinch. She looked from Shin to Aether, her face twisted by disbelief and betrayal. “That’s it? After everything? You both just walk away?” Her eyes were now filled with tears, and one finally slipped down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand, almost angry at herself for crying in front of them. “What about Adzeel? What about the others? What about everything we fought for?” Her voice broke again, but this time she could not hide it.

Shin and Aether did not answer. The silence between them was enough. The two had already decided this long ago, long before the Iron Bandits had reached this point. They had always known that they would eventually leave once their personal objectives were completed. Aether had wanted justice against Saint Elwyn. Shin had wanted revenge against the people responsible for Manny’s death. Neither of them had originally joined the Iron Bandits because they dreamed of becoming lifelong criminals or wanted to spend the rest of their lives fighting the Celestial Wardens. They had simply needed the organization because it gave them the weapons, allies, and opportunity necessary to accomplish what they wanted. Now those objectives had either been fulfilled or rendered meaningless, and their lives had become far more dangerous than either of them had expected.

The silence of the two men spoke volumes. Risha stared at them, waiting for either Shin or Aether to deny it, to stand up and say that they were wrong, or to promise that they would stay. Neither did. Her face crumpled as the last bit of hope left her expression. 

She grabbed her Halochassis glove from the table with trembling hands, the metal clanging against the wood as she snatched it up. Without saying another word, Risha turned toward the door and ran. Her footsteps thundered through the hallway as she fled the apartment, and the door slammed shut behind her with enough force to make the walls tremble slightly. Outside, her muffled crying quickly disappeared down the corridor, leaving Shin and Aether alone in the suffocating silence of the apartment, surrounding the armor that had once given them a reason to fight.