When people speak of angels, most believe they are nothing but myths; others, however, are convinced they exist and imagine them as the purest, most perfect beings to exist in the highest heavens. But let me tell you the truth: none of that is real.

Angels, just like dark angels, are creatures that desire one single thing: absolute power over the world and over the entire universe. There is not just one place, nor just one sky; there are thousands of lands, thousands of worlds, and dimensions. Some advance rapidly, others destroy themselves, and many exist thanks to the delicate balance between light and darkness. Every possibility has its limit, everything comes to an end, and many realities repeat themselves, yet always remain different from one another.

We were taught that light means goodness and darkness means evil, but the truth is far more complex. We, angels of light, cannot sin or commit any act considered wrong, because every mistake stains our very essence: our wings, born pure and white, slowly turn black, we lose our grace, and often, our punishment is to have those very wings that gave us life torn away.

I was one of them. I believed in the rules, I believed in purity... until I discovered that betrayal always comes from the one you least expect.

...... Chapter 1 ......

Airet

I look up at the sky, and it is so beautiful. Every day I gaze upon it, I fall more deeply in love with it. My bare legs brush against the warm waters of the river; colorful fish swim between my feet, the current is gentle, and everything is surrounded by trees and all kinds of plant life.

"Come on, Airet, nothing bad will happen if we go," that angel says, pleading, as his wings spread wide, ready for flight.

I sigh to calm myself down.

"Very well, let's go. But I will not cross the boundaries; if you cross them, Eco, you will have to go alone. I don't want trouble with the High Lords of Light."

I rise from the river where I stood. I spread my wings, majestic and white as purity itself; my legs dry rapidly, my hair stirs in the wind, and, beating my wings hard downward, I push myself upward to take flight. Eco follows behind me, a little slower, so I slow my pace. My wings feel free and light as they catch the wind...

When I open my eyes, I lift my gaze to the sky. It is no longer the beautiful blue I knew, but rather a pale, simple blue, covered by a few clouds. I blink repeatedly and sit up. I look around me: there are plenty of trees and common plants, but those wondrous species I remember are gone.

I stand up from the ground, my body feeling heavy. I open my wings to fly and extend them, though now it takes me much greater effort to do so. When I am ready to rise and I push myself up, I barely rise a few inches before falling back to the ground. I feel a sharp pain in my back; my wings feel heavy and stiff, and I can hardly move them properly.

I walk through a dense forest, where daylight barely manages to filter through the branches. My feet begin to ache, and discomfort grows with every step. I do not know how much time has passed since I woke up, but little by little, night is falling. A strange sensation runs through my body and I begin to shiver, wrapping my arms around myself to try and keep warm.

Then I see a path. It is not made of earth like the ones I am used to walking on, but it is dark and hard, and when my feet touch it, I feel an unfamiliar texture. There seems to be no end to it, but I decide to go right; even though the sensation is new, walking on it relaxes me and does not hurt me.

The sky turns gray and it begins to rain, and the water is far too cold. In the distance, I see strange lights approaching; I cannot make out clearly what they are. I spread my wings to cover myself a little from the rain, while rubbing my arms to create some warmth. I see more lights appear around a bend, drawing closer and closer. About ten meters away from me, they stop, and from those strange shapes emerge several men.

"Are you seeing the same thing I am?" one of them asks another who has just stepped out.

I cannot distinguish them well; the lights from those devices hurt my eyes. I feel their gazes, and they give me a sense of insecurity. Before, I never felt the need to hide, but now I have an instinct to cover myself. I tremble, and I wrap my body within my wings to shield myself better.

"Tell the guys not to get out of the cars. And tell Jake to contact the boss - I want him here right now," one says, in a tone of surprise, or at least that is what I understand.

The man he spoke to turns around, speaks into a small device - I cannot hear what he says from this distance - and enters what they call a "car." When he steps back out, he pulls out weapons. I recognize them perfectly: in Paradise, we were taught about the objects that humans use, and these were the tools capable of harming not only them but us as well.

At the sight of the weapons, my heart begins to beat wildly. I open my wings to try and move backward, but I trip over my own feet and fall onto the hard path.

One of them, the one they call Jake, speaks as he slowly approaches:

"Can you understand us?" he asks, his voice soft, trying to calm me. "We won't hurt you. We can help you."

He stops a few steps away.

"Jake, stay back from her! We don't know if she can hurt you," warns another man, who steps forward in turn and aims the weapon straight at me, with a cold, hard look in his eyes.

Then a deep fear surges from the very depths of my being, and all I can do is cry. Tears begin to fall down my cheeks; everything becomes blurry before my eyes. I wipe them over and over, but the tears just keep coming.

Little by little, more men come out of those vehicles and completely surround me. Some look at me in awe, others in fear. I do not know humans well, but their faces and their expressions speak far louder than their words.

Some time passes, and I watch as another car arrives and stops exactly where the others are. A man steps out and begins speaking to one of the men present.

"Where is Thomas? If I find out you've been lying to me, you can forget about ever having a vacation again," that man says.

He is accompanied by another person, who shields him from the rain with a strange device that somehow keeps him completely dry. He is tall and imposing, and something deep inside me screams that I must get away from him as fast as possible.

I try to spread my wings to fly, but the pain is too intense. The men around me keep their weapons aimed at me. My breathing quickens, my head starts to hurt, and I end up falling to my knees, moaning in pain.

The circle they form opens up a little, and I watch as that tall man steps closer until he is standing right in front of me.

"We don't mean to hurt you," he says, approaching slowly.

The woman who was protecting him from the rain has stayed back with the others.

I shake my head. Humans are evil; they always seek their own gain, they never help anyone - least of all someone like me. I try to open my wings again to escape, but I cannot bear the pain any longer. I cover my face and my body with them, and after that... there is nothing.

Airet

I slowly start to regain consciousness; the smell of this place is unpleasant. That metallic scent fills my nostrils and makes me feel sick. I try to open my eyes, but no matter how hard I try, I cannot; I feel they are covered by… fabric? I am not sure. I attempt to move my hands, but they are bound by something rigid. My arms remain stretched out, while my legs are pressed together and also tied down; I seem to be lying on some kind of hard surface.

Minutes pass, and I try again, now attempting to free at least one of my legs, but it is useless. I feel a burning sensation spreading across the skin where I am restrained, and the pain is so intense it makes me want to scream. I do not give up; I know I have to get out of here, but the pain grows sharper until tears stream down my face. I have never felt discomfort of this magnitude before.

“How was it possible that I was left to fend for myself, knowing I know nothing of the human world?” I ask myself, tears still running down my cheeks.

My body begins to tremble from the agony until I can bear it no longer and stop; whimpers of suffering escape my mouth. My wings still feel heavy—not as much as before, yet I still cannot move them—and the wound at their base throbs with every motion.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps in the distance. They are not fast, but they are heavy, and the sound echoes throughout the room. I hear the door open and someone enters… not several people, just one person, who stands still in the doorway, watching me. I feel their eyes fixed on me.

I think back to the question I was always taught: Is being an angel the same as being human? The only difference is that we do not sin as they do; we are pure from the moment of our creation.

“Help… please,” I say, my voice pleading, hoping they will understand me.

However, the figure does not move at all, and I realize a huge problem: I do not know the dialect of humans. We angels communicate through our minds, so we never developed an interest in speaking, since everything was made easy for us in another way. That is a unique quality of our kind; no matter what type of angel you are, we all communicate through thought and share knowledge internally. Although, I have heard that dark angels are very determined to learn spoken language, as it makes it easier for them to manipulate humans, turning themselves more and more wicked in the process.

I feel their hand touch my foot, right where I am injured. I tremble, and my breathing quickens instantly. Then, I feel their fingers tracing the wounded area along with something thick they are applying to it; it burns terribly, and tears spill even harder.

When they finish, I feel their breath very close to my legs. They touch them gently, as if they were the most delicate thing they have ever held in their hands.

Alexei

“Igor,” I pause as I look at the man tied to the table, “you only had to keep your mouth shut. It wasn’t that complicated, was it?”

I lean against the doorframe, crossing my arms. The smell of this place makes me sick; I have never liked hospitals. People only come here trying to heal themselves, even when they know they will die sooner or later. I recall something that always gives me an advantage: the only weapons capable of killing an angel are those crafted from osmium—that metal so rare and hard to obtain. It is a great advantage in these times.

“Now then… I won’t kill you. You’ll be fine in here,” I pause briefly and watch as his expression relaxes for a second, “but because of your betrayal, you must give something in return… and you know it.”

“No… please, my lord…” He thrashes desperately on the table, trying to break free from the handcuffs which have already left deep marks on his wrists.

“Loyalty is everything in this world. We gave you so much, and this is how you repaid us—selling intelligence about the battle to the Americans.” I sigh wearily as he struggles frantically, trying uselessly to stand up.

Suddenly, my phone starts vibrating. I had no intention of answering until I had made Igor’s punishment clear, but I see it is my right-hand man, Thomas. I answer the call.

“My Phankan, we have something interesting for you,” in the background, several men can be heard talking quietly.

“Thomas, I am busy,” I reply sternly. I glance at the man on the table, who now seems very interested in the conversation, and I step out of the room to continue speaking.

“Someone came down…” He pauses, his tone shifting to something more serious. “It’s her… Phankan.”

In the distance, I see several of my men gathered in the middle of the road under the rain, but I cannot clearly distinguish what is happening from here. I step out of the car, and Lucia immediately approaches, holding an umbrella to shield me from the pouring rain.

I walk toward my subordinate.

“Where is she, Thomas? If I find out you have lied to me, forget about ever having a vacation again,” I warn him coldly.

He nods his head, pointing toward the other side, and there I see her. She looks so… fragile and broken.

She tries to spread her wings desperately to escape, but she struggles with it; the effort is so great that she eventually falls to her knees onto the wet ground. She looks absolutely terrible. I approach the spot where my men surround her; they immediately open a path as I arrive. I gesture with my hand, and they step back slightly, leaving just her and me with more space.

I walk slowly until I am standing right in front of her.

“We don’t mean to hurt you,” I say in a calm voice, taking one step closer.

Again she tries to open her wings, but a cry of pain escapes her throat. She curls into them, trying to protect herself. I try to come a little closer, but suddenly her wings flare open, and she loses consciousness, falling forward.

I catch her in my arms before she touches the ground.

“Thomas! Jake! Come here!” I shout while holding her carefully.

They run over, still soaked by the rain, which is now easing significantly.

“Hold her wings and help me position her to carry her. Make sure they don’t hurt her.”

They move behind her and arrange the wings so they do not get in the way. We angels have the ability to hide or compact them so they are never a hindrance; it is not uncomfortable to do so at all… yet she frowns in pain even when we move them gently.

We arrive at the mansion and head straight down to the basement; no one else is allowed to see or know she is here. Thomas had all the staff evacuated long before we arrived. In the basement, I lay her carefully onto one of the tables we use to treat our own people.

“Bring the doctor. Now,” I order.

I turn her carefully onto her stomach, and her wings fall slightly open, revealing their base: it is obvious they tried to rip them from her when she was brought into the human world. Her feathers—once pure white—now bear small dark stains beginning to spread across them.

“When you recover and are able to wash yourself… you will be able to clean them… and be as beautiful as the angel you are,” I whisper, more to myself than to her.

Hours pass, and finally the doctor arrives. He has given her stitches and medicine to help the wounds on her wings heal better.

“Jake, prepare the chamber, please,” I tell him as soon as the doctor finishes his work.

“What? Why?” He looks at me confused, furrowing his brow. “Are you going to sacrifice her just because she is of the light?” he asks, concern in his voice.

“No… nothing like that. We need to stop her rebirth,” I answer, offering no further explanation.

I look at her one last time, lying there unconscious, and head toward the exit. Jake stays there a moment longer, leaning against the doorframe, staring at her intently.

“I don’t believe it… I don’t believe she did anything to deserve this…” he murmurs.

I leave the basement and go up to my office, where Thomas is waiting for me.

“Leave,” I order.

Even before I finish the sentence, he stands up from the sofa and leaves the room without a word, closing the door behind him.