When their Father cast them out, they thought it would hurt... physically.

They had nowhere to go. No one to turn to beyond the walls of their home. Even their bodies—once forged for celestial realms—might not survive the new world awaiting them.

But then something happened.

Something unfamiliar.

Something far worse than they had imagined.

They fell.

And fell...

And kept falling.

Endlessly.

Then, without warning, they awoke—though none of them remembered sleep claiming them.

Their magnificent castle was gone.

They were scattered in a forest.

Alone.

Confused.

Afraid.

But he couldn’t afford fear. Not now. Not when his brothers were broken because of his pride.

He had to be strong—for them.

They needed him more than ever.

Kneeling in the dirt, he lifted his gaze to a sky that no longer felt familiar or forgiving.

Dark clouds loomed above, staring back with silent judgment.

“I’ll prove you wrong,” he whispered.

But he couldn’t be sure He was listening.

“Fallen from grace—Aiden, reduced to eating the last squirrel in the woods.”

Aiden dramatically lifted the final piece of meat with his handmade fork. Just as he was about to savor it, the grilled squirrel vanished from his plate. He didn’t need to turn around to know who stole it.

“Ugh, seriously, Caelum? Again?!”

“I’m hungry...” Caelum mumbled, still chewing.

“Hey, Ignatius!” shouted the brother sprawled on the couch in the corner. “My five coins, please! Looks like our dear Caelum still has his appetite—even after being poisoned by that mushroom.”

“BURN IN HELL, SCUM!” Ignatius roared, hurling a pillow across the room.

“Why is it always you, Elior, who makes Ignatius angry?” asked the only brother with blue eyes, lifting his head from the game he’d invented himself.

“It’s not my fault our fiery brother always loses his bets, my dear Kaito.” Elior’s wide grin lit up his face—just before Ignatius hurled one of Kaito’s boards at him. It missed and shattered against the wall.

Kaito looked ready to explode, but their youngest brother interrupted.

“Some of us are trying to sleep here, you brats!” Somnus yawned and rubbed his eyes.

“You can borrow my earflaps, Somnus,” Caelum offered. “I use them when Aiden sings.”

“WHAT? My voice is BEAUTIFUL! The celestial realms—” Aiden nearly fell off his chair.

“That’s exactly why I don’t want to hear you singing,” said a cold, low voice.

Everyone fell silent.

An intense tension settled over the room as the eldest brother entered.

Aiden clenched his jaw, stood up, and left the rest of the squirrel for Caelum. He disappeared into his room.

“Were you crying, Orion?”

Somnus’s hesitant question caught him off guard.

Orion shook his head quickly and left again.

...****************...

Ten years had passed.

Ten years of living in this new hell.

They had turned to the dark to hide. To figure out what to do... where to go.

This house—once the ruins of a forgotten cottage —was their only shelter.

They still had only each other.

Their only progress?

Not running away when someone spoke to them.

They rarely left the house.

Only when it was absolutely necessary.

Food, clothes, medicine—whatever they couldn’t scavenge from the forest, they had to find elsewhere. Sometimes, while exploring the woods, they stumbled upon forgotten stashes: money buried by criminals who had once fled the town and never returned. Those finds were rare, but valuable.

When luck ran dry, some of them resorted to stealing.

Elior was the fastest. Aiden, the boldest.

They didn’t enjoy it, but they were good at it.

Whenever they crossed into town—just beyond the forest’s edge—they had to blend in. No risks. No traces. Their heightened senses stayed sharp—smell, hearing, intuition, apprehending beyond human abilities—but everything else had to be quiet. No flickers of what they used to be. They walked among humans like shadows. Silent. Careful. Forgettable.

It was a rule.

One of the few they all obeyed.

Orion had been watching everything.

Helping them through every difficulty.

Whenever one of them broke down, he picked up the pieces and made them stand again.

He knew deep down, his brothers blamed him for the way they lived—but none dared to say it aloud.

They just listened.

And obeyed.

It was all they could do at this point.

Crying over broken wings was pointless.

They had nothing left to lose.

And following Orion wouldn’t make life any harder than it already was.

He knew they sinned to survive.

He didn’t stop them.

They were no longer holy... so be it.

But Orion also knew they couldn’t live like this forever.

He had plans.

First, he had to build something stable.

A life that could hold them together—before reigniting the battle he’d started with their Father.

The registrar eyed the tall man standing before her desk—impatient, cold, and impressive in a dangerous way. She adjusted her glasses, muttering something about unfair shift hours.

“So... is this The Second Birth organization or not?” asked the client, his tone clipped.

“Ahem.” She cleared her throat, composing herself. “Orion... was it? Yes, you’re in the right place. But I’m afraid the timing isn’t.”

Orion clenched his jaw. “What do you mean?”

The registrar forced a smile. “May I ask what the hell you seven fallen angels have been doing for the past ten years? When an outcast is out there, it’s our duty to find them and settle them down. I’m sure someone from our organization tried to contact you—but you ignored them, didn’t you?”

Orion didn’t respond. His arms remained tightly crossed, his gaze fixed. A moment of silence passed. A muscle in the registrar’s jaw twitched as she waited, nerves creeping in.

“So that’s how it is,” Orion murmured, almost to himself. “Was that creepy demon with the even creepier pet one of your agents?”

The registrar paled. “What did you—”

“He was sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. I made him regret it. It’s none of your business why my brothers and I are here—especially not a dirty demon who thinks our arrangement is ‘suspicious’ or whatever.”

The registrar shot to her feet, her chair slamming into the wall behind her. “A dirty demon?” Her eyes flashed red with fury. “Who do you think you are? Still an angel? You’re nothing now! Demons at least have something to offer—powers that matter. You don’t even have your wings anymore!”

She slapped a hand over her mouth, realizing what she’d said.

Orion didn’t move. He didn’t blink.

Still as a statue.

Despite his frozen expression, her words struck something deep.

You don’t even have your wings anymore.

You are nothing.

So this was it.

He was still playing with him.

Still showing him he was nothing without his Father’s blessing.

“S-sorry...” the registrar began, but Orion cut her off.

“I need those ID cards and background stories. As soon as possible.”

Then he turned and left.

The registrar exhaled sharply and dropped into her chair—only to miss it entirely and land on the floor.

...****************...

One week later, when a creepy raven appeared behind Orion’s bedroom window, he didn’t blind it immediately.

Instead, he calmly opened the window, took the note from its beak, and only then strangled the creature and tossed it into the forest.

“The documents of the Seven Fallen Angels are ready.

Please visit the Second Identity Office within two days of receiving this note.

The presence of all clients is required.

P.S. If you ignore this message, the consequences will be highly strict.”

Orion took a deep breath.

Finally, the first step had been taken.

After years of living like rats, they could finally stand out without fear.

He hadn’t wanted help from demons or other lowly creatures. He hadn’t wanted to be visible in this world, to leave any trace of their existence on Earth. But he had no choice.

His brothers wanted more.

And so did he.

He needed to be someone.

“Guys? It’s time to get our new identities,” Orion announced as he descended the stairs.

Somnus’s head shot up from the pillow on the couch. “Really? Right now?”

For the first time in years, his face lit up. His silver eyes gleamed with hope.

Orion had grown used to Somnus’s sleepy expression since they lost their grace. But now, he remembered how much he missed the old Somnus—kind eyes, gentle words.

“Orion?”

He blinked. “Yes. Now. Get ready. Tell the others too.”

“Yay!” Somnus jumped up and ran to the room he shared with Caelum, then darted to the kitchen to find him.

“Get out of the way, big brother!!”

Orion turned just in time to see Elior sliding down the handrail. He leaned against the wall to give him space.

“Where did you learn that?” Orion muttered.

Elior landed safely, grinning. “Hey, do they give us money and a new house along with the new identities?”

“Take your head out of the clouds, Elior. They’re only making us officially human so they can feel safe—and keep an eye on us.”

Elior’s shoulders slumped, but he bounced back quickly and ran off to get ready.

From upstairs, Orion heard Ignatius shouting something about destroying the entire organization if his new name turned out to be stupid.

Everyone was excited. Nervous.

But Orion noticed something was off.

Silence.

From someone who was never silent.

“Aiden?” Orion called from behind the bedroom door.

Kaito opened it. “I’m almost ready, but I can’t find those shoes you bought me—the blue sneakers.”

“Where’s Aiden?”

Kaito shrugged. “Haven’t seen him since lunch. We argued about his long baths, and then he left.”

“He’s not around.” A hint of concern crept into Orion’s voice. “He can’t be outside alone.”

Kaito frowned. “Maybe he went to bury my sneakers for revenge.”

Orion stepped outside to check the area.

Maybe he didn’t have his wings, but he could sense his brothers’ fragrance from miles away.

Not this time.

No trace. No scent. No Aiden.

“Orion!”

He turned. Kaito was running toward him.

A few seconds later, he was standing in front of him, holding a pair of worn-out white sneakers.

Aiden’s sneakers.