The snow-white halls of the Heavenly Chancery were deserted at this hour. Only the flickering gold frescoes on the vaults and the faint tinkle of bells floating from the depths of the corridors broke the silence. Celestia stood at the huge Arcona window with her arms crossed over her chest. In the reflection in the glass, her face seemed even colder than usual—sharp cheekbones, pale lips, gray eyes devoid of any hint of warmth.

There were nervous shuffling footsteps behind her.

— Celestia, I... I brought the report, as you requested!

She didn't turn around, just squinted, watching Rafi, her perpetually disheveled charge, with glasses on the tip of his nose and a stack of parchments in trembling hands, reflected in the window glass.

— Put it on the table, her voice sounded flat, but tiny ice floes immediately froze in the air.

Rafi nodded hastily, took a step forward, and caught his wing on a vase of lilies. The glass shattered with a melodious tinkle, and water splashed across the marble floor.

— I'm sorry! I'll clean it up now!

— Don't.

She slowly turned around, her wings spreading a little wider, casting a shadow on his face.

— You're detached, Rafi, she said with a disappointed sigh. The Council has received a complaint. Again. Your ward was given a 'Noose of Fate' and you didn't even notice.

Rafi paled, and his fingers gripped the parchment so tightly that it crumpled.

— But I... I've been checking everything! Every week!

— And I missed it anyway.

She came closer, her sandals tapping clearly on the floor. Her gaze slid down to his dirty cuffs, to the torn button on his vest.

— You're being given one last chance. Come down to Earth. You'll improve. Or...

She didn't finish, but he understood. Loss of wings. Fall. Oblivion.

Rafi took a deep breath, straightened up as much as it was possible for him.

— I...I'll do it right! Rafi trembled, almost losing his last dignity in front of his mentor.

Her lips barely twitched in the semblance of a smile. — Because if you fail... I can't protect you.

She turned away, making it clear that the conversation was over.

And then the door to the hall burst open with a bang.

The demoness was standing in the doorway.

The one. The air was instantly filled with the smell of sulfur and incense, a strange mixture that always hung around her.

Celestia gave no sign of recognition. But her fingers involuntarily clenched into fists.

— Of course, the demoness threw back her head, lips stretched in a mocking grin. Are you dealing with your losers again?

Celestia slowly raised her eyes, her gaze as sharp as a blade.

— You're not here by choice, demon, she said, each word like a whip. The council called us both in. Apparently, someone decided that we...

She deliberately stumbled, letting the demoness guess for herself.

Together again. After everything.