Forming Thoughts

Archangel Michael stood still in the center of his room, the scroll now set aside, his expression no longer composed.

The usual stillness that defined him had cracked only a little, but clear enough. His wings shifted slightly as he began pacing the room with slow deliberate steps.

His thoughts raced. "This changes everything."

He reached for his connection to the ring, the one he had personally attuned and handed over long ago as a private channel of contact with Clyde. His mind already hovered over it.

"I should warn him."

But then he froze.

What if the Bureau or even the other Archangel had already begun monitoring magical fluctuations? What if even now, every unauthorized signal was being traced, logged, analyzed?

A direct call could be all it took to expose Clyde's position. Or worse—reveal Michael himself as a his ally in all of this disaster.