"Lyria!"
The door of light opened, and a woman stepped through.
Her long black hair flowed down like a river of night, her skin pale as mist.
The light from the crystal lamps above reflected off the white lenses of her glasses, giving her an air both gentle and unfathomable — like an illusion that could vanish at any moment.
"You called for me, my lord?" Her voice was soft — like a single note played on glass.
Remiel nodded, his silver eyes shifting toward the child beside him.
"This is Elior," he said. "You will take him to the Beijing Outpost. Tell them he's a new recruit from the Sixth Sector. And, Lyria—"
He paused, his tone lowering — "keep it absolutely secret."
Lyria blinked, her gaze flicking toward the boy.
There was something strange about him. The light around him flickered — unstable — dim one moment, blazing the next like a living torch.
No ordinary angel emanated energy like that.
She hesitated.
"My lord… who is this child? I can feel something inside him—"
Remiel cut her off gently but firmly.
"Lyria. He is simply a newly awakened angel… one that I'm rather fond of."
A silence followed.
"There's no need to ask further."
She bowed her head. "As you wish, my lord."
But the unease in her heart did not fade.
Remiel placed a hand on Elior's shoulder.
"Listen to her, my son. Lady Lyria will take you to your new beginning. For now… do not speak to anyone about your wings."
Elior looked up, his eyes holding the glow of a sleeping dawn.
"Why, my lord?"
Remiel's lips curved into a faint, wistful smile.
"Because only the Divine bears wings — and not everyone is ready to believe that."
Lyria raised her hand. The air before them cracked like shattered glass, then folded itself into a radiant doorway.
She took Elior's hand — cold but soft, like holding a ribbon spun from fog.
"Come, Elior."
Her voice drifted like a lullaby, and at once, the boy's mind sank into a haze of calm — Echo Hypnosis.
He felt no fear, only lightness, as if lifted by the breath of the heavens themselves.
The light opened, and a vast Seraphion descended onto the stone platform.
Its wings were woven from dawn — hues of pink, silver, and gold glimmering together, radiant as the lamp of creation.
Each beat of its wings stirred a wind that sang with the voices of a thousand souls who had become angels.
Lyria and Elior stepped onto the creature's back.
The Seraphion took flight, soaring through bands of silver cloud.
Below them, massive floating isles came into view — crystal towers, bridges of light, and angels in white cloaks gliding through the air in silence.
Elior gazed down in wonder.
"Is that… truly the Celestial Realm?"
Lyria tilted her head, her voice like the telling of an old legend.
"Yes. These isles are hidden from the mortal world by the Lumen Shield — a veil that bends light and erases all traces of our energy. That is why humankind can never see us."
The boy watched the endless sea of clouds below, awe and fear mingling in his young eyes.
"So… humans can become angels too?"
Lyria smiled faintly.
"Humans have always been angels, Elior. They just haven't realized it yet."
As the Seraphion glided past the northern boundary of the heavens, Lyria glanced at the boy beside her — still gazing at the distant earth below.
She murmured under her breath, almost to herself:
"Strange… the light around him… it's not pure. It's breathing — like a living being."
Remiel had told her not to ask. But she knew — the child was not an ordinary angel.
The aura he carried — translucent yet unfathomably deep — made her shiver.
High above, the wind twisted light into spirals, stretching like strands of time itself.
The Seraphion let out a low cry and pierced the final layer of cloud.
In the distance, amid the rose-colored haze, a floating city came into view — the Beijing Outpost, where light met metal, and where new celestial cadets began their path toward becoming Archangels.
Elior's eyes reflected the brilliance of that city.
For a fleeting moment, the wind blew his hair aside, revealing a faint silver mark at the nape of his neck — it gleamed, then vanished.
Lyria did not see it.
Far away, in the crystal tower, Remiel stood watching the streak of light fade into the horizon.
A gust of wind swept through the hall.
"My lord…" — Lyria's voice echoed faintly in his mind — "Do you truly believe the boy will be safe?"
Remiel closed his eyes.
"All I can do," he whispered, "is trust in the light I chose to awaken."
And beyond the spires, the sky of Heaven trembled — as though something unseen had brushed against the boundary of God.