In this extraordinary scene, the truth behind the three mysterious girls was finally revealed. Sophia was indeed the princess of Heaven, Dracy was the princess of Hell and Atis was the princess of Suez. As for Kera, he stood as the prince of Sedah.
With the formalities concluded, the prince and princesses gracefully boarded their respective carriages, the Pegasus, hell horse, centaur and Unicorn guiding them on their journey. The air filled with an aura of regality as the carriages began to move in their separate directions.
I looked as they were going away.
My fingers brushed against the two wing-shaped pendants in my pocket—one white as starlight, the other black as the void. A strange pull—like the tide dragging me toward the ocean—made me draw them out.
As I held the two pendants in my hand, an inexplicable sensation washed over me. It was as if the pendants were resonating with some hidden force within me. A strange, magnetic pull surged through my veins, as if the fragments themselves were alive, yearning to be whole. Without thinking, I clasped them together.
In that very moment, a powerful surge of energy engulfed me. Not from the clouds—from nothing, a deafening thunderclap split the sky—a jagged bolt of lightning, white-hot and searing, struck me, overwhelming my senses.
My vision exploded into blinding white, a single dark smudge swirling at the center like ink in milk.
I could hardly comprehend what was happening as my body heated up, and my head spun violently. All I could do was scream, the intensity of the experience overwhelming and terrifying.
Then—the sky tore itself apart in two.
Above me, one half darkened into swirling black storm clouds, crackling with violet lightning. The other half remained crystalline blue, yet now a blood-red moon hung beside the sun, casting an eerie, dual-toned glow over the land. The winds howled like a chorus of lost souls, whipping debris into frenzied spirals.
From the black clouds, thick crimson rain fell—not water, but blood, splattering the earth in macabre droplets. From the white, pure, shimmering water cascaded, sizzling where it met the blood below. The ground itself seemed to recoil, steam rising where the two liquids mingled.
Pegasi shrieked, their wings beating wildly as they reared. Hell horses bucked, their flaming manes roaring higher in panic. Unicorns trumpeted in distress, their horns flickering erratically. Centaurs bellowed, stomping the earth in primal fear. Birds—everywhere, birds—tore through the sky in chaotic flocks, their cries piercing the unnatural storm.
Agony ripped through me, worse than fire, worse than ice—both at once. My body felt as if it were torn between two opposing forces—half cold and half hot, symbolizing the essence of both Heaven and Hell. My left side froze, skin tingling with crystalline frost, veins turning to ice. My right side burned, muscles seizing as if molten lead filled my veins. my scream wasn't human—it was a roar, raw and guttural, shaking the air like a dragon's cry.
From my back, six wings erupted in a burst of light and shadow—three glistening white feathers radiant as the sun; three jet-black sleek as a starless night. Above my head, a halo flickered to life, split perfectly down the middle—one half a blinding golden ring, the other a void-dark crescent.
And then—I floated.
I floated higher, limbs limp, my body no longer my own. My vision blurred, skull pounding as if something inside were clawing to get out.
Amidst the chaos, my vision began to recover, though it remained blurred and disoriented. I struggled to comprehend the magnitude of the transformation that had taken place.
At a distance, the carriages carrying the prince and princesses came to an abrupt stop. I sensed the people who had alighted from their carriages kneeling before me. Sophia, Dracy, Lues, Atis—their carriages had halted mid-retreat. The Angel General's golden armor was tarnished, his wings folded in submission. The Demon General's flames guttered out, his head bowed. The Gold Suit General's cloak was torn, his knees pressed into the mud. The Minotaur's weapons lay discarded, his massive frame trembling.
They weren't just kneeling.
They were prostrating.