“Yeah, exactly. It’s like I’m a magical girl,” I said. “I’ve got this cool weapon, and I’m hunting, well... they look like pigeons, but they’re actually manifestations of evil. Wait... that sounds really silly. But it’s real, I promise.”

“Sure,” said Alice across the phone line.

“Oh come on. Would I lie to you?”

“Maybe.” My best friend chuckled. “You’ve been studying too much. It’s getting to your head. Horrible, really. You should come to robotics club to recover.”

“I already told you. I wish I could. I’ve been busy. Because of this new responsibility, and all. Y’know. Important stuff. Kind of.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I’ll show you on Monday.”

She laughed. “I look forward to seeing your cosplay, Quinn.” She hung up. Cosplay. Was she in for a surprise. I smiled, then remembered I still needed to get ready for bed. It had been a busy few days since I’d gotten these... abilities. Whatever they were. But I was finally getting into the groove of things, even if some of the quirks were annoying.

Vespa’s voice interrupted me. “An Echo has entered the area,” she said. “Please, dispatch it.”

I set down my toothbrush and sighed. “Let me guess. Junk mail?”

“Yes. Another instance of E1-Messenger has entered the area.” Vespa piped back. “And please refrain from calling E1-Messenger ‘junk mail’. It has an official designation. You know—”

“Shut up.” I threw on my jacket and stormed out of my bedroom, pulling on my socks in the hall.

“Quinn?” Dad peeked of his office. He must have been staying up late for work. “What are you doing up so late? Remember, you have school tomorrow.”

“I’ll just be a few minutes, dad.” If there weren’t too many pigeons this time. Pigeons, pigeons, pigeons. Always pigeons. All weekend long. Since this had started, every day more pigeons appeared and it was my ‘angelic duty’ to clean them up. “You know,” I whispered to Vespa. “I was hoping to do cool things. Fun things. Not... whatever this is.”

I hurried out the front door and slammed it behind me. Dad was right. It was late. I wanted to sleep. Where was it? I scanned the rows of houses illuminated brilliantly by the streetlights, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Where would it be this time? A few large flocks of pigeons were roosting on the telephone wires, but it wasn’t among them. “Where is it, already?”

“I do not see it. And please, Quinn, try to be less antagonistic with your attitude. It is not making things any easier for either of us.”

“Oh boohoo. Vespa is sad. Well, I’m sorry, but this is a lot of busywork. It’s annoying. So annoying. ‘Saving the world’? Yeah right. Like seriously, what is this even doing to help? The pigeons clearly just keep coming back. I get that they can replicate, but then what even is the point of killing them? They’re just going to come back.”

“E1-Messenger is watching for the Demons, Quinn. They see you through it.”

“Oh wow. I’m so scared. Look at me quaking in fear. What are the Demons actually doing, Vespa? What harm is actually being done? I don’t exactly see the world ending around here.”

“That can be arranged.”

“Very funny. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get some sleep. Dad’s right. I have school tomorrow, and that seems to be more important than... whatever this is accomplishing. I mean, really. I’ve never even seen a Demon. It’s just these pigeons all the time. And wasn’t I supposed to get a transformation?”

“I apologize for the delay. But your Imago is not ready quite yet. Attempting to bring it out prematurely may result in unpleasant consequences. Maiming. Horrible pain. Being fused to the floor in a puddle of slime. But it will be ready by... tomorrow night.”

“Fine. Then we can pick this up tomorrow.” I turned back to go home.

“You have not cleared the Echoes in the area. Do you not wish to?”

“What is this, a quest?” I sighed. “Look, Vespa. I really did find this fun. The whole stinger thing.” The blade materialized in my hands, letting me give it a little flourish before reabsorbing it through my other palm. “It’s... I really wish I could do this full-time, but it’s a drag. I have a social life, surprising as it may be. I have to do well in school. I have to think about my future... getting into uni. Preferably a good one. I just... it’s just one day. Okay? This whole Angel thing... it’s fine, as long as it doesn’t interfere with my life. And right now, that’s what it’s doing.”

“Suit yourself,” she said.

“Thanks for understanding, Vespa.” She stayed quiet as I returned home, through my evening routine and right until I fell asleep. She wasn’t upset, was she? She had to understand. I couldn’t actually do all this all the time while also balancing my life. And my life came first.

***

I finally heard Vespa again the next evening. The sun was setting, casting its warm glow over the city. We’d gotten takeout for dinner, still sitting in the bags waiting for mom to get home from work. “An Echo has entered the area,” she said. “And it is not E1-Messenger.”

That certainly piqued my interest. I opened the door to check the weather. It was probably warm enough to go out with just my sweater. “I’ll be back for dinner. Just a sec,” I shouted to the kitchen.

“Don’t be late for dinner,” dad chimed back.

“Yes. I know. I just said that I’d be back for dinner.” The evening air was brisk, and the streets were still mostly quiet still. On the empty streets, it was easy enough to make out the interloper.

For once, it wasn’t a pigeon. Or, what was it again? ‘E1-Messenger’. The creature was much larger, the size of a small, squat dog. Black, much like the pigeons had been, made of the same slick, oily material. “What’s this Echo’s... designation?”

“This is E1-Friend,” said Vespa.

“Friend?”

“It is not a friend to you.”

“Fair enough.” I held my stinger at the ready as I approached it. The creature didn’t seem to notice me, seemingly distracted by something on the ground, that it was sniffing vigorously. Its head was doglike too, with a thin, tapering snout and triangular ears, though its tail was long and ratlike. “Does it have any particular powers I should be aware of?”

“It can bite.”

I rolled my eyes. “Wow. Great advice. I couldn’t tell.” My footsteps crackled in the dry leaves. Immediately it bolted upright, staring at me with glowing red eyes. Then it dashed off. Its skin cracked as it ran, revealing red stripes that glowed like a furnace lit inside of it. I sprinted after it, following it down the neighbourhood streets and around back behind the houses. How was it so fast on those stumpy little legs?

It disappeared down an alley, and I followed close behind. Thankfully, I knew the area well. And this alley was a dead end. Cornered, The Echo began to tense up. Out of breath, I approached it slowly, trying to... reassure it? I was about to destroy it, though.

“There are several other Echoes approaching.”

Not now. “Don’t tell me...”

“They are instances of E1-Messenger.”

Of course. Already they had perched on the fence and eaves of the houses. How many were there? Ten? Twenty? They swarmed around me, keeping their distance so that I couldn’t just shatter them all right away. For now I could focus on—where did that Echo go off to? “Vespa? The... dog?”

“E1-Friend is not a dog, Quinn. And it... I am not sure where it went. Perhaps you should just clear the area of E1-Messenger instances instead.”

“Seriously? Pigeons? Again? Is that all you think I’m good for?” I started scrambling up the fence, trying to reach the pigeons. One or two connected with the blade, but most just flew away on their own as I banged against the metal rain gutters. A particularly unsporting individual flew into my face, knocking me off-balance and sending me tumbling off the fence and onto the asphalt, scraping my knee. “That’s it. That’s enough. I’m going home.”

“You did an admirable job today.”

“I didn’t do anything! I never do anything. I got like, what, three pigeons? I didn’t catch that other Echo. I didn’t... I don’t have time for this. Mom and dad are probably waiting for me to get back for dinner.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, idiot.” I tried unsuccessfully to jam my weapon back into my palm. “Why isn’t this working?”

“You are over-exerting yourself. You used up your capabilities wastefully with trivial things. It is not healthy to reabsorb too much material through your palms like that. They are meant to be used to quickly generate your weapons. Not to greedily jam it down.”

“But you said it’s so important not to just throw away my stinger. That it uses up too many calories to keep generating on a whim.”

“Correct. But it is harmful to your cells to quickly absorb nutrients from your weapon. Better to use your bodies natural capabilities to extract sustenance from it.”

“You’re telling me to eat a polearm.”

“Yes. That is, in fact, what most Angels do with their weapons. Just be careful not to cut your tongue on the blade.”

I sighed. Yet another stupid, weird Angel thing. But still, I held the handle to my lips and gave it a lick. “It’s awful.”

“Odd. I believe it is meant to taste like shrimp.”

That explained it. “I hate shrimp, you worthless—”

“What are you doing?” Dad’s voice. Dad’s voice?

“Sorry, dad, I—”

“Stand back!” He wasn’t talking to me, was he? I rounded the corner to find my parents standing outside, talking to two tall people in pin-striped suits. Parked on the curb was a huge black van with tinted windows. Suddenly, the figures surged forward and grabbed mom and dad, muffling their screams as they dragged them into the van and slammed the door.

What?

“Oh my. They are at it already.”

“It did. Wait. What’s going on? Who’s ‘at it’ already?”

“Demons.”

The van careened down the street. Mom? Dad? I hurried after it, but exhausted as I was—not to mention my scraped knee—it quickly outpaced me and vanished down the streets. Not like I could chase a van regardless. I wasn’t even in the best of shape. I needed to go home. To think.

I stumbled to my front door and fumbled for my keys. As much as I jammed them in, they wouldn’t fit in the lock. Calm down, Quinn. Deep breaths. I tried again, more carefully.

No. They didn’t fit anymore. The locks had changed?

My finger trembled as I rang the doorbell. Deep breaths. Count to ten. One. Two. Three. Four. Footsteps approaching the door. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. The click of the lock opening. Nine. Doorknob turning. Ten. The door swung open.

Standing in the doorway was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. He had flawless skin and sharp features, with neat, wavy black hair and dark, piercing eyes. Like the others, he was dressed in a suit, though his was dark navy. Despite his neat appearance, there was a quiet tension in his gaze, a controlled explosion waiting to burst out and destroy whatever stood in his way. “May I help you?” he asked. His voice was deep, with an accent that I couldn’t quite place. It reminded me of old movies.

“What are you doing in my house?”

“I’m sorry. You must be mistaken. This is not your house.” He smiled. A black pigeon flew to his shoulder, holding my student card. He took it from its beak, his eyes narrowing. “Indeed... Quinn. This is not your house anymore. Now please, get off my property.” He smiled.

And then he slammed the door in my face.