They were naive. Maybe they were just insane. Honestly, both options were equally valid at this point.

Kahn killed innocents based on nothing but suspicion—no evidence that they worked for Halo. Yet because he labeled them Shadow of Death's collaborators, the entire city accepted it.

Nothing like blind trust in the world's most dramatic murderer.

Now that Kahn was dead, the city seemed emptier than before. Many left to pursue their Purpose in other lands, while those seeking peace realized StoneHaven was no longer for them.

Which was fair, the murder-themed interior décor was getting old fast.

Still, they all blamed Shadow of Death with bitter resentment. Everything collapsed the moment he entered their land.

However, Shadow of Death was caught in his own dilemma.

Three days had passed since his battle with Kahn, and though he'd sustained heavy internal bleeding and wounds, he couldn't afford to stay idle.

Their threats were trimmed down to three now: Arlen, the Prince, and the mastermind herself, Hex.

But with Iris in custody and the enemy outmatching them in both numbers and strength, they could only wait for them to react to Kahn's death and its consequences.

Which, considering their luck so far, would probably be immediate and catastrophic.

Leto hardly seemed concerned, though. He was certain he could defeat all of them if it came down to it, even Hex. Halo didn't doubt him, not for a second.

His confidence level was completely unjustified.

There was something about Leto that screamed omnipotence. But to be confident enough to claim he could defeat the fourth Witch, Hex? That was next-level stupidity.

Even so, Leto had made a point. Halo hadn't expected such clear thinking from someone who'd been so obnoxiously cocky about the Kahn victory. Yet the words kept nagging at him since he'd regained consciousness.

Unlike most people whose True Abilities could be directly used in battles, as a servant of Death, his didn't work in the same fashion.

He could summon clones of those he'd killed, provided he had enough Sin Fragments. They could also be people killed by those connected to him, even his weapon.

Useful, but in combat, their strength remained theirs, and his remained his own. Which felt like buying a toolbox but all the tools have separate subscription plans.

Even so, Leto had suggested he make use of his True Ability, meaning he had to fight alongside his clones.

But the question was, what if there was a situation where he couldn't fight alongside his clones? Maybe they were exhausted, or injured, or the situation didn't call for backup. That would render him and his clones useless.

He had always intended to build his strength alone, but now, he had to reconsider.

They were all his clones, parts of himself. Even if he didn't need to fight alongside them all the time, he should know how to use them as clones when it came down to it.

Teamwork with yourself should have been easy. Somehow, it wasn't.

***

The afternoon was brutally hot. Leto roamed the streets of StoneHaven while Halo and his clones, Light and Tough, focused on their training session.

One big happy dysfunctional family.

Halo and Light mirrored each other's techniques. As two halves of the same being, their reflexes, agility, and instincts all stemmed from shared experience.

And though the gap in strength was significant, they could bridge it through understanding and mental communication.

Tough's transformation ability posed a problem, though. Despite their similarities in speed and dual-dagger wielding, Tough dominated in close-quarters fighting. He fought like someone permanently two seconds away from flipping a table.

Theoretically, they could compensate for their differences with speed. While Halo relied on wits, tricks, and stubbornness to hold his ground, Tough could match that with relentless endurance.

That way, Tough would only need to increase his size when fighting alone.

Even so, their biggest challenge was fighting together.

Three versions of Halo but zero synchronization.

Halo ran them through routines as if choreographing a performance under a deadline. Light, of course, acted like it was all a chore.

If eye-rolling were an Olympic sport, Light would be a gold medalist.

He might have resented Halo even more than the townspeople.

This wasn't something he could drill into their minds, but he needed to make sure they all understood each other's strengths and weaknesses.

He had no intention of fighting alongside them, not anytime soon, at least. Besides, apart from Dark Saint, who could take out an army on her own, Sunday had yet to join their crew.

And like Tough, Sunday could also undergo metamorphosis. With his burning spear and extremely hard shell, he was by far the strongest of the three. Basically a walking tank with delusions of grandeur.

Before the sun could set, Halo was already pleased with their harmony.

But he couldn't even force a smile, not that he wanted to. He could still taste blood, and that made him wish he had healing abilities.

However, that wasn't what held him captive; it was the bronze screen buzzing repeatedly before his eyes.

There were more than two hundred of them in the span of ten minutes, and each was a Toddler Sinner. This left him bemused, he couldn't pin this on Dark Saint since she always targeted stronger Sinners or humans.

Dark Saint had standards. Murderous standards, but still standards.

This had to be Sunday's doing.

Sunday had never sent this many Sin Fragments at once. Could Seraph be in danger? He was barely functional himself, hardly in a position to worry about anyone else, yet he couldn't stop himself.

Seraph had mentioned how weak the worm-like Sinners were but never seemed pleased with herself and showed no interest in sharing.

And now, a swarm of them? Something was definitely happening. Because nothing says "problem" like several hundred toddler worms.

Still, he pushed the thought aside. She was a good comrade, but there was nothing he could do about it.

He needed to overcome his injuries and purge the blood stench from his body before their enemies launched the next assault.

The universe really needed to stop scheduling crises back-to-back. But well, he was damned.

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