"Fuck" I whispered, the reality of my situation finally hitting home.
"Fuck.... fuck.. FUCK!"
I had been taking this too casually despite everything. Despite all my enhancements, despite the paranatural power flowing through my veins, I was still thinking like I was fundamentally human. These weren't just monsters I was fighting these were angels, soldiers of Heaven, beings whose very weapons didn't just cut flesh; they burned souls.
And now I was blind, wounded, and facing more of them.
I stumbled backward until my shoulders pressed against Remedy's bark-covered trunk, using her massive form as both anchor and shield. The remaining angels had pulled back after seeing two more of their brothers fall, and I could hear them talking among themselves in low, urgent voices.
"The mortal fights like nothing we've encountered" one of them said, his voice carrying the weight of millennia. "She should of been dead by the first wound even more so by this point."
"It matters not" a third voice declared with grim authority the leader, I realized. "She has killed eight of our brothers. She will not survive to claim a ninth."
I tried to focus through the pain, breathing heavily as I pressed my back against Remedy's comforting presence. My hand came away from my face covered in the burning blood, and I could feel more of it trickling down my cheeks like tears of fire. The grace continued to blaze through my nervous system, making every movement an exercise in agony.
I let the stolen angel sword drop from my nerveless fingers the celestial steel clattering onto the snow-covered ground. The Service Weapon shifted to my other hand, its familiar weight offering a measure of comfort even in my darkened world. Whatever was about to happen, I would face it with the weapon that was truly mine.
That's when something extraordinary began to occur.
At first, I thought it was just my imagination, possibly phantom sensations from damaged nerves trying to process stimuli that no longer existed. But gradually, I became aware of something that might charitably be called vision, though it bore no resemblance to normal sight.
The vibrational landscape that was slowly resolving around me was unlike anything I could have imagined. At first, it was overwhelming—every surface, every object, every living thing pulsed with its own unique frequency, creating a symphony that threatened to drown out my ability to distinguish one thing from another. The snow beneath my feet hummed with crystalline vibration of frozen water. The trees at the clearing's edge sang with complex harmonics like a slow heartbeat. Even the air itself carried subtle oscillations as it moved through the space.
But gradually filtering and organizing the sensory input into something I could work with. It was like learning to see all over again not with light and color, but with patterns of movement and energy that painted the world in frequencies I could never have perceived before.
[IMAGE]
The angels were the most distinctive signatures in this new spectrum of perception. Their divine nature made them blaze like silver beacons against the more muted tones of the natural world, their essence creating pure frequencies that cut through all other vibrations like tuning forks struck in perfect harmony. I could see their shapes outlined in flowing ribbons of resonance arranged in a loose circle around my position, their movements creating ripples in the vibrational field that told me everything I needed to know about their intentions.
"She's finished" one of the angels said, his voice carrying false confidence through the vibrational field. I could see his form shift slightly as he spoke, the resonance of his vocal cords creating ripples that revealed his position with perfect clarity. "The grace will consume her within minutes. We need only wait."
"No" the leader replied, his voice carrying the weight of absolute authority. His vibrational signature was stronger than the others, more complex, suggesting greater power and experience. "She has already proven too dangerous to underestimate. We end this now, while she's weakened."
I felt their formation begin to shift through the resonance field, nine silver outlines spreading out to surround me once more.
With small movements, I flicked my wrist and focused my will on the Service Weapon's transformation sequence. The weapon responded immediately, its components beginning to shift and reconfigure as it evolved from Shatter to Charge mode. I could feel the parts separating and realigning, the weapon's mass redistributing.
When it finished I held the trigger, feeling the weapon's energy building with each passing second. The charging process created its own unique vibration—a rising harmonic that climbed steadily higher as forces gathered within the weapon's core. The angels, focused on their tactical discussion, didn't immediately notice the change in the weapon's resonance signature.
But one of them a angel that hada particularly acute senses suddenly stiffened as he recognized the shift in the Service Weapon's frequency. His head snapped toward me as he realized what was about to happen.
"She's—" he began to shout.
I raised the gun and fired.
The Charge mode discharged three projectiles in rapid sequence, each one arcing through the air before detonating in perfectly synchronized explosions. The first blast caught two angels who had been standing too close together, the concussive force tearing through their armor and sending them tumbling across the snow in sprays of silver grace. The second explosion engulfed a trio of warriors who had been advancing from my left flank, their coordinated assault dissolving into chaos as fragmenting energy shredded their divine forms.
The third shot went wide my new vibrational sight was still crude compared to normal vision, and the overwhelming sensory input had thrown off my aim. The projectile detonated harmlessly against a tree at the clearing's edge, but four angels lay dead or dying in the snow, their resonance signatures fading as their grace bled out into the frozen ground.
Five left, much better odds.
The surviving angels scattered immediately, abandoning their coordinated formation in favor of rapid, unpredictable movement patterns. They had finally learned to respect the Service Weapon's capabilities, but their caution came too late to save their brothers.
I triggered the weapon's transformation again, shifting from Charge back to Grip for the close quarters combat that was about to ensue.
The first angel came at me from the right, his blade raised as he closed the distance with inhuman speed. I tracked his movement as best I could, his resonance signature blazing like a comet across my perception. The Service Weapon bucked in my grip as I squeezed the trigger multiple times, sending a stream of small black blocks towards the center of his chest. He tried to dodge, his divine reflexes almost fast enough to avoid the barrage. Almost. Two shots caught him in the shoulder and thigh, spinning him around and sending him crashing into the snow with grace bleeding from multiple wounds. A third shot to the head finished him off, his resonance signature winking out like a snuffed candle.
Another angel was already moving to flank me the vibrational landscape around me shifted as he approached from behind, his footsteps creating distinctive pressure waves in the snow. I spun to face him, but he was faster than I'd anticipated, his blade already sweeping toward my neck in a decapitating strike.
I ducked low, feeling celestial steel pass close enough to singe the hair on top of my head, and responded with a point-blank burst from the Service Weapon. The angel's armor deflected most of the impact, but the concentrated fire was enough to stagger him backward and buy me precious seconds.
Extending my consciousness outward, I reached for the loose stones and clumps of earth scattered around the clearing. My telekinetic powers seized them eagerly, lifting chunks of frozen soil and jagged rocks into the air around me like a swirling constellation of improvised ammunition.
The angels saw the debris rising and immediately understood the threat. They tried to spread out further, but the clearing wasn't large enough to escape the range of my abilities. I sent the first volley screaming toward them with devastating force—baseball-sized rocks moving at bullet velocities, chunks of frozen earth that hit like artillery shells.
One angel managed to deflect the incoming projectiles with his blade, celestial steel ringing as it struck stone and dirt. But his defensive success left him open to follow-up fire from the Service Weapon, and I put three shots through his chest before he could recover his guard. Another warrior tried to use his wings to shield himself from the barrage, but he staggered under the impact, giving me the opening I needed to dash in close and finish him with point-blank shots to the head and heart.
The remaining two angels had learned from their brothers' mistakes. They stayed mobile, never presenting stationary targets, using their superior speed and flight capabilities to make themselves as difficult to track as possible. But their movement patterns created distinctive vibrations in the air, and my new perception could follow them even when they tried to attack from unexpected angles.
The first one dove from above, sword extended like a spear as he plummeted toward my position. Waiting until the last possible moment before dashing and letting him crash into the snow where I'd been standing. Before he could recover, I had the Service Weapon pressed against his spine and squeezed the trigger until the weapon clicked empty.
The final angel—their leader circled me with predatory caution. His celestial blade at his side as he searched for an opening, wings spread wide to give him maximum mobility in what had become a deadly game of cat and mouse.
I squeezed the trigger of the Service Weapon but only heard the hollow click of an empty barrel, nineteen angels dead, and I was out of ammunition for the killing blow. The angel's eyes lit up with grim satisfaction as he recognized my predicament. "Your strange weapon has finally failed you, mortal" he said, his voice carrying the weight of divine authority. "Now you face Heaven's justice with nothing but your own inadequate flesh."
But even as he spoke, my vision was showing me something he couldn't see the scattered remains of the celestial blades that lay abandoned in the snow around us. Each sword hummed with its own distinctive frequency, their divine essence creating bright spots in my enhanced perception like fallen stars waiting to be claimed.
Without taking my eyes off the approaching angel, I kicked out with my right foot, catching the hilt of the nearest fallen blade into a telekinetic grip and sending it spinning up into the air. My sight picked out two more swords within easy reach, I moved and flicked the additional blades into the air and spun them around the first sword.
"Three swords against one?" the angel scoffed, though I could hear uncertainty creeping into his voice. "What manner of fighting style do you think—"
I didn't let him finish the question. Instead, I launched the blades at him simultaneously. The swords screamed through the air like missiles as they converged on his position from three different angles. His eyes widened in shock as he realized that this wasn't going to be a sword fight.
His reflexes kicked in immediately, wings spreading wide as he brought his own blade up to deflect the incoming projectiles. He managed to catch the first sword with a perfectly timed parry, celestial steel ringing against celestial steel as he knocked it aside. The second blade met a similar fate, his centuries of experience allowing him to track and intercept even these impossibly fast projectiles. But three simultaneous attacks was too much as the third sword slipped past his guard, punching through his breastplate just below the heart with a wet, final sound.
His words trailed off as the light surged out his eyes. His body swayed for a moment, wings fluttering weakly, before collapsing backward into the snow. The divine grace bleeding from his wound began to dissipate, returning to the cosmic energies from which it had been formed.
My body felt like it was on fire from the inside out, burns blazing through my nervous system with each heartbeat. The accumulated wounds from blades were taking their toll, and my endurance was finally reaching its limits. My legs felt unsteady beneath me, and black spots were beginning to dance at the edges of my perception making what I could see even worse.
I turned toward Remedy's entrance, each step requiring tremendous effort as shock and blood loss began to assert themselves. The massive tree's presence was still overwhelming to my enhanced sight. She was generating vibrations so deep and powerful that looking directly at her was like staring into an acoustic sun.
But as I stumbled toward the safety of her embrace, a familiar figure emerged from the entrance with his arms full of medical supplies.
"Ahti" I breathed, relief flooding through me as I recognized the enigmatic janitor's form.
"Pikkuinen" he said gently, setting down his collection of bandages, antiseptics, and medicinal herbs. His weathered face was creased with concern as he took in the extent of my injuries—the ruined eye sockets weeping grace-fire and blood, the dozen cuts from celestial blades burning like brands across my skin, the way I swayed on my feet like a tree in a strong wind.
"You look like you've been wrestling with devils" he observed, moving toward me with sure, steady steps. "Though I suppose angels are just devils with better marketing, yes?"
Despite everything, I found myself smiling weakly at his observation. "Something like that."
Ahti's hands were surprisingly gentle as he began to assess my wounds, his touch professional despite his humble appearance. He'd clearly done this before, tended to injuries that no ordinary healer could understand, dealt with the aftermath of conflicts that existed outside normal human experience.
"The eyes first" he murmured, unwrapping a roll of clean linen bandages. "Cannot have the any issues spreading further into your system."
He worked with practiced efficiency, cleaning the wounds around my ruined eye sockets with something that smelled strongly of herbs and alcohol. The antiseptic stung viciously, but it also seemed to cool the burning sensation left by the celestial blade. Layer by layer, he wrapped the bandages around my head, creating a protective barrier between the wounds and the outside world.
Interestingly, the bandages didn't interfere with my sight at all, If anything, having my empty eye sockets covered was a relief.
"There" Ahti said, securing the final layer of bandages. "Not perfect, but it will help the healing process. Now for the rest of you."
He moved quickly but carefully, cleaning and bandaging the worst of the wounds. His touch was sure and professional, and I found myself wondering not for the first time exactly who Ahti really was. No ordinary janitor possessed this level of medical knowledge, especially when it came to treating injuries inflicted by divine weapons.
As he worked, he began to hum a wordless tune under his breath that seemed to ease the pain in my wounds. His hands moved with gentle precision, smoothing out my blood-matted hair and adjusting the bandages to ensure they wouldn't slip or interfere with my movement.
"Better" he declared finally, stepping back to assess his handiwork. "Not good, but better. Now go see her—she's been worried sick since the fighting started."
I nodded gratefully, turning toward Remedy's entrance. The doorway in her massive trunk was already opening to welcome me home, warm light spilling out into the gray winter afternoon. As I crossed the threshold, I felt the familiar sensation of entering a space that was far larger inside than outside, reality bending around Remedy's impossible architecture.
'Jesse!' Remedy's voice burst through our mental connection the moment I was fully inside, her consciousness wrapping around me like a warm embrace. 'Oh Jesse, you're hurt so badly! I could feel your pain through our link, and I wanted to help, but you told me to close my senses and I didn't know what was happening and—'
'I'm fine' I projected back, though we both knew it was a lie. She could sense my physical condition as clearly as I could feel hers, and there was no hiding the extent of my injuries from our shared awareness.
As I limped through the entrance hall, I felt something happening around me. The corridor I was walking through began to move and rearrange itself inside the Oldest House as Remedy reconfigured her internal structure. Within moments, what had been a long hallway in the building had became a much shorter passage that opened directly into a room adjacent to the Director's office.
The Director's office welcomed me with its familiar weight of authority and responsibility. The massive wooden desk dominated the space, its polished surface reflecting the soft light that filtered through windows showing impossible vistas of Remedy's interior architecture. I moved toward it slowly, my injured body protesting each step despite Ahti's careful ministrations.
'Are you sure you're alright?' Remedy's voice whispered through our mental connection, her consciousness wrapped around me like a protective embrace. 'I can feel how much pain you're still in.'
'I'm managing' I replied. I reached the desk and leaned against its solid edge for support, the cool wood offering a welcome anchor point as another wave of dizziness threatened to overwhelm me. The battle had taken more out of me than I wanted to admit, both physically and mentally.
The Director's chair looked impossibly inviting as I made my way around the desk, its high-backed leather promising comfort and stability. I sank into it with a heavy sigh, immediately feeling some of the tension leave my shoulders as the chair molded itself to support my injured form. But the relief was accompanied by a throbbing headache that seemed to pulse in rhythm with my heartbeat.
I raised a hand to my temple, massaging gently through the bandages that covered the upper portion of my face. The headache felt different from normal pain deeper somehow, as if the celestial energy had left traces of itself embedded in my neural pathways.
"Ah" Ahti's voice came from behind me "Always making messes, you are. Though I must say, blue blood is particularly difficult to remove from leather. Very stubborn stains, those."
I let out a short snort of laughter despite my condition. "Sorry about that," I said, glancing down at the armrests. "I'll try to bleed more considerately next time."
"Bah" Ahti waved dismissively, moving around the office. "Furniture can be replaced. Directors, on the other hand..." He trailed off meaningfully,
"It will be fine, you know" Ahti continued, his voice taking on a gentler tone. "The wounds will heal, the headaches will fade, and the chair will forgive you for bleeding on it. But now you must go speak with the young lady properly. She has been very worried about you."
I looked across the office toward the Hotline that sat on the corner of the desk. I reached for the receiver, the red plastic warm beneath my fingers as I lifted it to my ear. The moment the device made contact with my ear I heard the distant sound of ringing.
The office around me began to blur at the edges, reality softening as the ringing continued. A sense of vertigo washed over me, similar to what I'd experienced during my first transition to the Astral Plane but somehow more controlled, more purposeful. The Director's office faded away like a dream upon waking.
When I blinked, I found myself sitting in an identical chair atop the familiar inverted black pyramid of the Astral Plane. But something was different about my perception here. Normally, the Astral Plane stretched endlessly in all directions, its geometric anomalies and floating platforms visible to the horizon. Now, my vision seemed limited to the pyramid itself and... something else. As I turned my head to the left, following an instinct I couldn't quite name, I realized I could also see the areas below covered by the pyramid's shadow spaces that should have been hidden from view were somehow visible to me, as if the shadow itself had become transparent.
The revelation was startling, but before I could fully process its implications, another sound captured my attention. A soft whimpering, barely audible above the ambient hum of the Astral Plane's impossible energies.
The soft whimpering sound cut through my heart like a blade, more devastating than any physical wound I'd sustained in the battle outside. I'd heard that particular quality of restrained anguish before—the sound of someone trying desperately not to cry but failing to hold back their overwhelming emotions. But hearing it from Remedy made my chest tighten with protective fury all over again.
I leaned forward carefully in the Director's chair, my wounded body protesting the movement as I searched for the source of the quiet sobbing. The sound seemed to be coming from somewhere very close—almost directly beneath me. Following my instincts, I looked down toward the space beneath the massive desk where someone's legs would normally go, the shadowed alcove that provided privacy for the Director's position.
There, huddled in the darkest corner of that small space, was Remedy.
[IMAGE]
The sight broke my heart completely. Her form was compressed into being as small as possible., blocks drawn tightly together as she tried to make herself invisible. The hooded cloak that usually flowed around her with such grace was now wrapped protectively around her body, and I could see her shoulders shaking with each suppressed sob.
I slid down from the Director's chair, ignoring the sharp protests from my wounded body as I lowered myself to the obsidian surface of the pyramid. My knees hit the strange material with more force than I'd intended, sending jolts of pain through my injured leg, but I forced myself to remain steady as I moved closer to Remedy's hiding place.
Carefully, I positioned myself in front of the desk's alcove, close enough to offer comfort but far enough away to give her space if she needed it. The last thing I wanted was to make her feel trapped or cornered when she was already so frightened.
"Remedy" I called softly, carrying the gentleness I'd use with an injured animal. "Hey, sweetheart. I'm here now."
Her geometric form stiffened at the sound of my voice, and I could see her dark eyes peering out from beneath the hood of her cloak. They were wide with lingering terror, darting around as if searching for new threats, and the sight made my heart clench even tighter.
"I'm so sorry" I continued, keeping my voice low and soothing. "I'm sorry I couldn't get there faster. I'm sorry they hurt you. I'm sorry you had to go through that alone."
"You're safe now" I promised, leaning forward slightly but still maintaining my distance. "All the bad guys are gone. I made sure of that. Every single one of them is dead, and they can never hurt you again."
Remedy's form trembled as she processed my words, her blocks shifting in patterns that suggested she was struggling to believe what I was telling her. After everything she'd been through, trust didn't come easily.
"I know it's hard to believe right now" I said gently. "But I promise you—I swear on everything I am—nothing like this will ever happen again. I will not let anyone hurt you. Not angels, not demons, not cosmic entities, not anything. You are under my protection, and I will burn down Heaven itself before I let them touch you again."
The conviction in my voice seemed to reach her, because her trembling began to subside slightly. She was still huddled in the shadows, still trying to hold herself together literally and figuratively, but some of the panic was leaving her posture.
"Jesse?" her voice was small and uncertain, barely more than a whisper in the strange acoustics of the Astral Plane. "Are you... are you really here? This isn't just another bad dream?"
"I'm really here" I assured her, my heart breaking at the fear in her voice. "This is the Astral Plane. We're both here together, and you're safe. I promise you're safe."
For several long moments, silence stretched between us. I could hear the ambient hum of the Astral Plane's impossible energies, the distant whisper of cosmic forces moving through dimensions beyond normal perception. But mostly, I heard Remedy's quiet breathing as she tried to gather the courage to trust again.
Then, slowly, she began to emerge from her hiding place.
It started as a slight movement, her hooded head lifting to get a better look at me. When she confirmed that I was really there, really present and not just a hallucination born from trauma, she began to unfold herself from the cramped space beneath the desk.
The moment she was free of the confines, she launched herself toward me with desperate urgency. The impact nearly knocked me over. I was still crouched down, my balance precarious due to my injuries, and Remedy's sudden embrace threatened to send us both tumbling across the pyramid's surface. But I managed to catch her, wrapping my arms around her geometric form as she buried her hooded face against my shoulder.
The pain from my wounds flared as she pressed against them, but I bit back any sound of discomfort.
"It's okay" I whispered, holding her as tightly as I dared. "I've got you. You're safe now. I've got you."
"They said I was evil" she whispered against my shoulder, her voice muffled by the geometric fabric of her cloak. "They said I was an abomination that shouldn't exist. What if they were right? What if I really am something terrible?"
"No" I said firmly, pulling back just enough to look into her dark eyes. "You are not evil. You are not an abomination. You are the most extraordinary, wonderful thing that has ever existed, and anyone who says otherwise is an idiot who doesn't deserve to breathe."
A small sound escaped her not quite a laugh, but something close to it. The first sign of her natural resilience beginning to resurface.
As Remedy's laughter gradually faded, I continued to hold her close, feeling the steady rhythm of her breathing against my shoulder but I could still sense the lingering tremors of trauma in her consciousness. She needed more than just comfort—she needed a distraction, something to help her mind move past the horror of what had happened.
"You know what?" I said softly, adjusting my position to look at her more directly. "I think we should do something fun. Something to take your mind off all the bad stuff that happened today."
Remedy's dark eyes brightened with curious interest, though I could still see shadows of fear lurking in their depths. "Fun?" she asked, her voice small but hopeful. "What kind of fun?"
'We could try to contact other entities in this realm though that might be risky. Or we could work on strengthening our mental connection, see if there are new ways we can share awareness. Or..." I hesitated, then added with a slight grin, "we could tackle some of that Director paperwork that's probably piling up on the desk."
The reaction was immediate and startling. Remedy's entire form lit up with excitement, her geometric blocks shifting rapidly into more animated configurations that could be seen clearly beneath her mask. She threw her hands up in the air with such enthusiasm that she nearly lost her balance in my arms.
"Paperwork!" she exclaimed, her voice bright with genuine joy. "Oh yes, yes! Can we do paperwork? Please? I've been wanting to try it ever since I learned what it was!"
I blinked in surprise, completely taken aback by her reaction. Of all the activities I'd suggested, paperwork was the one that excited her? "You... you want to do paperwork?" I asked, unable to hide my confusion. "Are you sure? It's not exactly what most people would consider fun."
"But Paperwork is Amazing" Remedy pointed out, practically bouncing in my arms now. "Forms and requisitions and reports and all sorts of official documents! I've been dreaming about getting to fill out proper bureaucratic forms!"
Her enthusiasm was so genuine and infectious that I couldn't help but smile. Here was an entity that could reshape reality with a thought, who commanded impossible architecture and existed across multiple dimensions, and she was excited about the prospect of filling out government forms. It was simultaneously absurd and endearing.
"Okay," I said, chuckling despite myself. "Paperwork it is. Let's go see what we can find."
Carefully, I scooped Remedy up in my arms, making sure to support her properly as I stood. She felt lighter here in the Astral Plane, her form seeming to weigh less than it should despite its apparent solidity. She wrapped her arms around my neck for stability, her hooded head resting against my shoulder as I carried her toward the Director's chair.
The chair welcomed us both as I settled into its familiar embrace, positioning Remedy comfortably on my lap. Her form rearranged itself to accommodate the new seating arrangement, and I could feel her excitement building as we wheeled up to the massive desk that dominated the pyramid's apex.
The moment we were in position, Remedy sprang into action with the focused intensity of someone pursuing their deepest passion. Her hands moved with surprising dexterity as she began opening the desk's various drawers, searching through their contents with methodical precision.
"Oh, this is wonderful!" she breathed, pulling out a collection of fountain pens with different colored inks. "Look at all these writing implements! And the paper quality it's so crisp and official-looking!"
She arranged the pens in a neat line across the desk's surface, then continued her exploration of the drawers. Form after form emerged from the desk's mysterious storage spaces—documents that shouldn't have existed in this realm but somehow did, bureaucratic manifestations of the Director's authority given physical form in the Astral Plane.
"Acquisition forms!" Remedy announced triumphantly, holding up a thick sheaf of papers. "Personnel requisition documents! Budget allocation requests! Incident reports! Oh, and look interdimensional material transfer authorizations and copyright laws!"
Her excitement was growing with each discovery, her form practically vibrating with anticipation as she spread the forms across the desk in front of us. The hood of her cloak had shifted during her energetic movements, and I could see more of her face now—dark eyes bright with joy.
"Where should we start?" she asked, looking up at me with such genuine enthusiasm that my heart melted. "What's the most important form to fill out first?"
I looked over the collection of documents she'd assembled, recognizing several types from my memories of the game. There were standard FBC forms for cataloging Objects of Power, requisition forms for equipment and supplies, incident reports for documenting paranatural events, and personnel files for new Bureau employees.
But one form in particular caught my attention—a material acquisition form that would be perfect for documenting our recent... acquisitions from the angel patrol.
"How about we start with this one?" I suggested, pointing to the acquisition form. "We did technically acquire some new equipment today. Angel blades to be specific."
Remedy's eyes went wide with delight. "Oh yes! We should definitely document those properly! They're Paranatural weapons with celestial properties!"
She grabbed one of the fountain pens—one with silver ink that seemed appropriate for documenting divine weapons—and bent over the form with intense concentration. Her writing was slightly sloppy at first, the geometric nature of her hands making fine motor control challenging, but she persevered with admirable determination.
I watched, fascinated, as she began filling out the various fields:
OBJECT ACQUISITION FORM - FEDERAL BUREAU OF CONTROL
Item Description: Angel Blades ( Combat Weapons)
Quantity: 20 (twenty)
Source/Origin: [Redacted] (Divine Arsenal)
Acquisition Method: Combat Salvage
Previous Owner(s): Deceased
Paranatural Properties: [Remedy paused here, tapping the pen against her lip thoughtfully] "What should I put for this one, Jesse?"
"Well," I said, leaning forward to get a better look at the form, "they can cut through pretty much anything, they burn anyone who isn't supposed to wield them, and they can kill other supernatural entities permanently. They also seem to be self-maintaining no rust or dulling."
Remedy nodded seriously and continued writing: [Divine cutting edge, anti-supernatural properties, rejection of unauthorized users, permanent termination capability againts certain entities.]
As she worked, I found myself studying her more closely. The geometric blocks that formed her body were fascinating—constantly shifting and realigning in subtle patterns that seemed to reflect her emotional state. When she was excited, they moved faster and in more complex configurations. When she concentrated, they settled into more stable, organized arrangements.
Her hood was still pushed back from her earlier enthusiasm, revealing more of her features than I'd seen before. The cloak itself seemed to be made of the same geometric material as her body, flowing and reshaping itself to accommodate her movements.
Almost without thinking, I reached up and gently grasped the edge of her hood, lifting it fully away from her head. The fabric responded to my touch, flowing backward and merging seamlessly with the rest of her cloak as if it had never been a separate piece at all.
Now I could see her hair or what passed for hair in her manifestation. It was composed of thin, dark blocks arranged in flowing patterns that mimicked the appearance of actual hair while maintaining the abstract architectural quality of the rest of her form. The individual pieces moved independently, creating a subtle animation effect that was mesmerizing to watch.
"Better?" I asked softly, running my fingers through the geometric strands.
Remedy made a soft, contented sound and leaned slightly into my touch. "Mmm, that feels nice," she murmured, though she didn't stop working on the form. "I can see the paperwork better now too."
I continued gently brushing her hair with my fingers, marveling at how the blocks felt both solid and fluid at the same time. Each strand seemed to respond to my touch, the pieces rearranging themselves in pleasing patterns that flowed like water while maintaining their essential block-like structure.
"Storage Recommendations:" she read. "Ooh, this is important! We need to make sure they're properly secured!"
"How about a restricted access vault in the Research Sector?" I suggested. "With containment measures and limited personnel authorization."
Remedy nodded enthusiastically, her hair flowing under my fingers as she bent back to the form. [Restricted vault storage, Research Sector Level 7, Paranatural containment protocols active, Level 3 authorization required for access.]
As she worked, I noticed her writing was becoming more confident and steady. The initial nervousness was giving way to genuine skill as she found her rhythm with the pen and paper. There was something deeply satisfying about watching her discover this new form of expression, this very human activity that she was making uniquely her own.
The form was nearly complete now, and I could see Remedy's pride in her work growing with each field she filled out. This was more than just paperwork to her—it was a way of imposing order on chaos, of creating structure and meaning from the violence we'd experienced. It was, in its own way, a form of healing.
"There!" she announced triumphantly, setting down the pen and admiring her completed work. "My first official Bureau form! How does it look?"
I leaned forward to examine her handiwork, noting the careful attention to detail and the obvious pride she'd taken in completing each section properly. "It looks perfect," I said honestly. "Completely professional and thoroughly documented. The Archives would be proud."
Remedy beamed at the praise, practically glowing with satisfaction. "Can we do another one?" she asked eagerly, already reaching for a different form from the pile she'd assembled. "I want to try a personnel report next!"
Looking at her enthusiasm, feeling her contentment through our connection, I realized that this simple activity had accomplished exactly what I'd hoped. The trauma of the angel attack was still there, but it was no longer the dominant force in her consciousness. She was healing, finding joy in something new and uniquely her own.
"Of course we can," I said, continuing to gently run my fingers through her hair as she selected her next target. "We have all the time in the world."