In every pupil of Luhier's eyes, there was a reflection of a completely different figure.
Some were male, some female, some old, some young, some mortal, and some powerful.
Gradually, those shapes stopped changing, resting on one figure.
Luhier looked at that figure, frowning even more tightly.
It was a War Angel in Red Flame Armor, tall and dashing, with pure white wings behind them!
That was... her, before she had fallen.
She stood facing the mirror, but the reflection was her past self.
Luhier was unsure if this was the mirror's power or a true reflection of her inner self.
"It doesn't feel good." After a long silence, Luhier spoke coldly.
She closed her eyes again, no longer looking at the reflection, covering them with a black veil.
The black wings flapped as the Fallen Angel descended before the mirror.
She didn't attempt to shatter this seemingly fragile mirror—it wasn't the actual body, and destroying it would have no effect.
