Five Wings.

That graceful, radiant figure possessed a presence so brilliant and sacred that its dazzle forced eyes away, commanding an exalted presence that forbade anyone from raising their head.

The sky above collapsed, weeping black sludge, while the earth split wide to overflow with a sea of blood. Amid the fallen world, that figure stood as the single beacon of light, straining to hold back the falling heavens and mend the shattered abyss below.

A Pseudo God Angel? No. A Five-Winged Divine Spirit.

Angels and Divine Spirits were inhuman existences, beings far beyond human comprehension. Though Iger had never laid eyes on a divine entity, he felt the boundary between them as clearly as a pulse in his chest. As the ancient myths foretold: Angels were sorcerers who had transcended humanity, while Divine Spirits were nothing more than natural laws given a voice.

Just as no one watching a brilliant sun would expect it to stick out its tongue and lick them, no one looking upon this entity painting the world with color could believe it retained any trace of...