Raea placed her fingers on the two black gemstones and slammed them shut, blocking out the two hawk-like eyes. “That is really unsettling,” Raea said and bit her lower lip as she removed her fingers from the skull pendant. Her gaze landed back on Palan. “You really think your sister is going to like this?”

Palan shrugged as he stored the necklace into his bag. It was a simple leather pouch that he looted off of one of the prisoners because his last two bags were dissolved by his cocoons during his evolutions. Thankfully, everything valuable was stored inside of Cleo—he just had to find her. Currently, he had poisonous metal dust that he created while waiting for the prisoners to write up their contracts which he later had them destroy. He also decided to fill his bag with rocks that were pointed and easy to grasp, picking them off the floor whenever he saw one. Maybe they’d help him kill another archangel.

“She has a penchant for cracking skulls open and sucking out brains,” Palan said as he closed his bag. “It can be symbolic, you know? I do have to bring her a souvenir. It wouldn’t be very nice of me to go to another world and come back without bearing gifts.”

“But you’re not a nice person,” Cory said and tilted her head to the side. A little part of her was upset that Palan took one of her treasures without asking and wanted to say something about it, but the bigger part of her didn’t want to die, so she kept her mouth shut. When she invited Raea to the treasury, she really only wanted to show off to the harbinger, not give her gifts.

“There’s a pocket of niceness inside of my tail’s stomach,” Palan said and snorted. “Would you like to see?” Danger Noodle blinked at Cory before yawning while dislocating its jaw. The red harpy retreated backwards and hid behind Justitia.

“I believe you,” Cory said and shook her head. “No need to see. You know what they say: Hearing is believing. I totally believe you’re nice enough to repay someone after taking one of their treasures.” Her head bobbed up and down, her hair tickling Justitia’s neck. The angel fidgeted but didn’t try to stop the archling. As an angel, her authority wasn’t very high in the rebel’s camp.

“She’s the one repaying you,” Palan said and gestured towards Raea. “Aren’t you making her find your hometown or something along those lines?”

Cory pursed her lips before sighing and resting her body on Justitia’s back. Palan and Raea returned to browsing through the treasures scattered across the floor. “So,” Cory said directly into the angel’s ear. “Who are you? A slave of the harbinger?”

“More like a slave to her demon,” Justitia said and bit her lower lip. She knew she had to stick to Palan’s or Raea’s side to survive in the rebel army. She also knew she couldn’t disobey either of their orders if they asked. Didn’t that practically make her a slave? Well, at least it was better than being stuck in a cycle of getting tortured to the brink of death and restored to full health while having her mana drained from her body. “I used to be their friend. I’m not sure if I still am.”

“You are,” Raea said without turning around. She picked up a painting of a four-winged figure. A layer of mold had grown over the surface, covering the majority of the parchment. The only visible pieces were the four bright-red wings and a sky-blue background. The wings reminded her of her own. “Was this supposed to be a drawing of the harbinger?”

Cory hopped over and put her face right up to the painting. She sniffed it before standing up straight. “I have no clue,” she said and shrugged, turning her wings upward. “I’m not an artist. But all drawings only have value in what the viewers see. So if you see the harbinger, then maybe it really is the harbinger. All I see is a blob of mold though. Maybe I should air this place out every so often.”

“You should,” Palan said. He finished browsing through the treasures. Nothing else caught his eye other than the skull necklace. The majority of the items had rusted or decayed in some way. “And throw away all this trash while you’re at it.”

“One man’s treasure is another man’s trash,” Cory said and placed her wings on her hips. “Just because you can’t appreciate their value—“

Palan pasted his hand on Cory’s face. Something about the way she talked made him weary. Like his time was being sucked away. He said to Raea, “At least this visit to the treasury wasn’t a complete waste of time. Ready to leave?”

Raea grunted in agreement. Cory tried to detach Palan’s hand from her face, but her feathers couldn’t get a good grip and she was afraid of the consequences if she cut his arm with her talons. “Maybe you should let her go?” Raea asked and furrowed her brow. It may have been strange, but she felt an attachment to the harpies. They were her personal army. A few words from her were able to stop them from killing each other even though slaughtering one another was part of their culture. They were willing to become enemies with the other races because she told them to learn how to read.

Palan released Cory and began walking towards the exit. As he was passing by the mountain of armor and weapons, his torso-mouth opened. A tongue shot out of his stomach and wrapped around a few swords and plate armor before drawing them back to his body. Palan furrowed his brow as his torso-mouth began to devour the metal, dropping bits to the ground because of its lack of cheeks. “You’re autonomous too?” Palan asked and poked his stomach which was still chewing. “Is this even my body anymore?”

His torso-mouth burped in reply.