"Light..."
In the Aurora Sanctuary, the Fallen Angel quietly looked up, gazing at the "firmament" above, feeling the false sunlight pouring down on her.
Sometimes, Luhier always recalled the feeling of soaring through the sky with the angels under the sunlight, piercing through the clouds.
"..."
She remained silent, then, as she had done countless times in solitude, slowly unfolded the pitch-black wings.
The feathers once gilded by the sun's golden flames were now only charred black, a symbol of her fall.
Her fingertips brushed across the joint of the wing where the markings resembled a grim scar, and a forgotten dawn suddenly pierced the fog of memory.
That was... the era when she was still called the "Archangel."
And as she half-closed her eyes in recollection, her black wings stretched wide, casting dappled shadows below.
...
Shadows are the eternal theme here.
This is the domain of the Divine, forever covered in shifting shadows.
