A soft knock echoed through the quiet room, gentle but insistent. Ayla's eyelids fluttered open to pale light filtering through heavy velvet curtains, the scent of lavender mixing with faint traces of burnt incense. Her skin, a warm caramel glow, caught the morning light, revealing the delicate curve of her face framed by loose waves of purplish-pink hair that cascaded down her shoulders. Her striking purple eyes — sharp and mysterious — blinked awake, surveying the unfamiliar surroundings.
The room was lavish but sterile, designed to impress and contain at once. She shifted beneath the silken sheets, her slim, curvy figure tense as the dull ache of Alvaro's strike still pulsed through her body. The flight here on the skyrage had been brutal, but the haze was lifting.
A soft voice called from the door.
"Princess Ayla?" The maid's tone was careful, almost reverent.
Ayla swung her legs off the bed, her hips swaying naturally, the slow confident grace of someone born to command attention—even if the world had yet to truly see her. She ran a hand through her thick, vibrantly colored hair, her purple eyes narrowing with quiet fire.
"Mythos," she murmured, voice low and rough, "what exactly are you? Why are you inside me?"
Inside her mind, a calm, deep voice replied — like a song echoing from distant stars.
"I am Mythos, your essence architect. The force bound to your soul, your guide and guardian. Your name is Ayla Valein, the Forbidden Angel."
Ayla's pulse quickened. She stood tall, light filtering over her glowing skin, the silhouette of her body a blend of strength and curves that would make any courtier stop mid-step.
"What does forbidden mean? Why me?"
"You are the child of two worlds — angel and demon intertwined. A being they both fear. The balance you carry is a threat to order. You were sent away, hidden."
The voice summoned visions before her eyes: glowing stats and powers, a divine interface only she could see.
Name: Ayla Valein
Age: 18
Race: Hybrid — Angel/Demon (Forbidden Angel)
Strength: 17
Vitality: 30
Agility: 20
Essence: 55
Tier: 1 (Novice)
Passive Skill: Unseen Beauty — an aura that quietly influences and captivates those around her
Ayla's fingers curled, feeling the weight of the title. She was beautiful, yes—but this was more than beauty. This was power, danger, and destiny wrapped in her skin and spirit.
"Who are you really, Mythos? Just a voice? Or something more?"
"I am a fragment of the cosmos, a living galaxy that walks beside you. Protector and weapon. You will need me if you want to survive."
Her eyes flicked to the hallway, where a sealed vault held something alive—something desperate. Inside, a weapon shifted violently, elements clashing and flaring like a storm trapped in a cage.
It whispered, faint but urgent.
"Help me escape…"
Ayla's breath caught. The unease slid through her like icy fingers.
Mythos's voice steadied her.
"Not all prisons are made of steel. Some bind with silence and shadow."
She squared her shoulders and smoothed her gown over her hips, every inch the forbidden queen yet unseen, the beauty and storm waiting to break free.
With one last glance toward the restless weapon, she walked up the winding stair toward her father's chamber — ready to face the man who controlled her fate.
The heavy doors opened, revealing King Eldric seated upon his throne, a figure carved from shadow and light. His eyes, sharp yet kind, locked onto Ayla as she stepped forward.
"Ayla," he said, voice warm but layered with meaning. "Or should I say… Remus? Your new body, your new life—it's a gift. How does it feel to wear it? To be reborn?"
Ayla stiffened, caught off guard by the name. The maid had only whispered 'Ayla Valein' moments before, repeating the skyrage driver's words. But Eldric's knowing smile pierced deeper.
"You can call yourself whatever you choose," he continued softly, rising. "But I want to know what feels right for you. This body, this life… it's yours to command."
Before she could answer, she found herself running forward, arms wrapped tight around the man she'd longed for. The warmth in his chest beat steady beneath his robes.
"You're my daughter," Eldric whispered into her hair. "The light in this city, my greatest hope."
He drew back, pulling a small gold pouch from his belt. "Take this—gold enough to build your kingdom, or buy freedom. Xenalis is yours, Ayla. I want you to walk its streets with pride."
Ayla's heart wrenched. Mythos's voice hovered in her mind, cautious and cold, "His essence is unreadable. He hides his true self well. Your emotions cloud judgment—he could be both sanctuary and snare."
King Eldric's gaze softened as he kissed her forehead. "Go explore the city we built for you. Discover who you are… or who you want to be."
As Ayla turned to leave, Ayla's heart twisted—Remus. The echo of his voice, his presence inside her, a constant shadow she hadn't yet fully understood. She clung to the fragments of him, just as she clung to her father's kindness.
The maids stepped forward, gently taking her hands. "Your Highness, it's time to eat. You must regain your strength."
As they led her out, one whispered, "The finest designers from across the continents have sent gowns and garments for you. Your father ordered everything while you rested. You're free to choose whatever you wish."
Ayla's lips twitched into a smile for the first time that day. For now, the castle felt less like a cage.
Ayla was served a sumptuous meal—tender roasted venison glazed with essence-infused honey, vibrant purple quinoa, and a refreshing seaweed salad that tingled with healing energy. For dessert, she savored a sweet, translucent essence gel that melted like starlight. Afterward, she chose a sleek midnight-blue gown woven with shimmering cosmic threads, paired with high-heeled boots embedded with essence regulators for subtle power control. A translucent cape that shifted colors with her emotions that completed the look.
The city stretched before Ayla like a living, breathing beast. Xenalis—vast as Tokyo, vibrant as a dream stitched from essence and ambition. The cobblestones beneath her feet hummed faintly with latent magic, streets lined with vendors shouting, children laughing, and the air thick with a thousand aromas.
Ayla's purple eyes flickered with wonder beneath her cascades of purplish-pink hair, catching every glance. She was a vision—a slim, thick goddess carved from the rarest light brown hues, curves that whispered of power and grace no one had dared to witness before.
Women turned in the markets, eyes wide as they stared, some offering shy waves, others bold compliments carried by the wind. It was a passive gift she barely understood yet felt coursing in her blood—the quiet pull of beauty and presence that shifted the world's attention without a word.
Drawn by a soft glow, Ayla's steps led her to a small shop nestled between a herb vendor and a street artist. Neon lights flickered, pulsing from gadgets she'd only seen in dreams—touchscreens that responded to the lightest touch, headphones that danced with essence frequencies, AI chips glowing softly like captured stars.
She pressed a slender hand against the glass, breath hitching. "So this is the world I missed," she whispered.
Mythos's voice echoed in her mind, calm but sharp, "These are tools of essence cultivation, designed to enhance the body and mind. You were hidden away too long, Ayla."
She felt a pang—a bitter sting from years locked beneath cold stone, denied the life unfolding before her. Yet, now the city was hers to claim, a kingdom alive with untapped possibilities.
Just then, the door chimed softly as it opened.
Ayla stepped into the quiet tech shop, curious about the strange gadgets humming softly around her. Behind the counter, a young man looked up—red-haired, a little awkward.
"Hey," he said, adjusting a device on her wrist. "Let me fix this for you."
She watched as he worked, surprised by how gentle and focused he was.
"So, you're new here?" he asked, glancing up with a shy smile.
"Yeah. Spent most of my life locked away," Ayla replied, folding her arms.
He laughed quietly. "That's rough. But I'm glad you're out now."
They chatted for a bit, the conversation easy despite the silence of the shop.
"There's some dragonlived food in my delivery vault behind the shop," Sebastian said finally. "Want to grab some? It's rare, but I think you'd like it."
Ayla nodded. "Sure. Lead the way."
The narrow alley smelled of damp stone and shadows, a shortcut Sebastian insisted on taking to save time. Ayla followed cautiously, her senses sharpening with every step as the midday sun barely reached between the towering buildings. The market buzzed nearby, but this alley remained quiet, almost eerily so.
Suddenly, three figures stepped from the shadows, blocking their path. Each wore a jacket marked with a glowing snake emblem, their presence a silent warning.
Jorgudan, the tallest and most menacing, cracked a cruel grin, eyes gleaming with malicious intent. "Well, well… Look who's tagging along with little Sebastian. You think you can handle that ass, little Sebastian? I promise I'll fuck her right for ya, buddy."
The other two snickered, stepping closer, their confidence swelling in the warm daylight.
Sebastian's face paled, but Ayla's eyes narrowed, fire sparking inside her.
Determined not to look weak in front of Ayla — and maybe himself — Sebastian clenched his jaw and swung a clumsy right hook toward Jorgudan's jaw.
The punch barely connected before Jorgudan caught his fist with a mocking laugh, shoving Sebastian hard against the damp wall.
The two other bullies closed in swiftly, fists flying.
Sebastian struggled, taking hits, his face reddening under their blows. The alley echoed with the grunts and shouts of the fight.
Ayla's breath hitched. Rage flared to the surface — the wild call of Demon Natas in her mind screamed to let loose.
But Mythos's voice steadied her, cool and commanding.
"Hold back, Ayla. Use control."
Her muscles coiled, power gathering like a storm.
With a sudden burst, she sprang forward — one brutal punch slammed into Jorgudan's chest, sending the leader crashing backward.
She grabbed the nearest attacker by the collar and hurled him against the alley wall with terrifying ease.
The third bully barely had time to react before Ayla's fist connected with his jaw, knocking him to the ground.
The crowd nearby gasped in stunned silence — word of a fight was spreading fast in the usually peaceful midday streets.
But the bullies were far from finished.
Jorgudan wiped blood from his lips, eyes burning with venomous rage. His snake emblem on his jacket glowed a deep, poisonous purple as the fangs on the emblem vanished, replaced by sharp, venomous teeth — a terrifying sign of his curse manifesting.
"Don't think you're done yet, princess."
He took off running, scaling the side of the alley's wall with unnatural agility, climbing four stories in seconds.
"Two of them are charging at you, from the left and right. Jorgudan is coming down from above," Mythos warned in Ayla's mind, his voice calm and precise.
Ayla's body moved instinctively.
Two bullies lunged simultaneously, launching essence-infused punches charged with toxic energy.
She ducked under the first blow, sidestepped the second, the poison barely grazing her skin.
Her own counterattack was lightning fast — a spinning kick to one's ribs, a crushing uppercut to the other's jaw, sending them stumbling.
Above, Jorgudan leapt off the ledge, aiming to crash down on her like a serpent striking its prey.
Ayla rolled to the side just in time, feeling the force smash into the ground where she'd been standing.
She sprang up, fists glowing with Essence, and drove a blast of scorching light into Jorgudan's chest.
He snarled, staggering back but still alive.
The crowd was now a dozen strong, murmurs of shock and awe rippling through them.
Ayla's breathing was steady but fierce, eyes glowing faintly with the power Mythos fed her.
Demon Natas's scream echoed in her mind, but Mythos held the reins.
"Focus. Do not kill."
With a final strike, she disarmed Jorgudan and sent him crashing to the ground, unconscious but breathing.
The other two bullies groaned, barely conscious.
The murmuring crowd held their breath as Ayla took a deep breath and placed a gentle palm on each attacker's chest.
Golden light seeped from her hands, healing the bruises and broken bones as Mythos whispered, "Calm them. End this."
The crowd's shock turned to confusion.
Sebastian, eyes wide and pale, looked at her with a mix of fear and admiration.
Without a word, Ayla grabbed Sebastian's arm and bolted from the alley toward the Delivery Vault, leaving behind the stunned onlookers and groaning bullies as they got up and started to chase.
"YOU STUPID GIRL, YOU THINK YOU CAN ALMOST KILL ME AND GET AWAY! BOYS LETS GET EM"
"Yes, Your HIGHNESS"
Ayla led the bullies on a wild chase through the twisting back alleys, weaving between crates and dodging piles of discarded goods. Their frustrated shouts echoed behind her as she darted left, then right, sending them chasing shadows.
Finally, she skidded to a stop near Sebastian's shop. Catching his breath, she turned to him with a grin.
"Hey," Sebastian said, brushing dirt off his sleeves, "I think it's my turn to show you the way."
He gestured toward the narrow stairs beside the shop. "The delivery vault's just under those stairs. Come on."
They hurried inside, descending a small metal staircase to a dimly lit basement filled with crates stamped with dragon insignias. The air smelled rich and smoky, a promise of savory delights.
Sebastian opened one crate carefully, revealing rows of dragonlived food — rare delicacies infused with essence that gave strength and vitality.
He sighed, looking down at the crates. "I'm sorry about earlier… those guys? They wait behind my shop every day, just to rob me of these deliveries. I have them for sale in my store, but I haven't been able to restock because of them. I haven't had a moment's peace."
He looked up at Ayla, humility clear in his eyes. "I'm really weak… no essence stone, no powers like you. I can't even defend myself well enough. So, thank you — thank you for protecting me."
Ayla nodded, softening. "You don't have to be strong to be worth protecting."
He smiled shyly, adjusting a small device clipped to his belt. "Let me get you something to eat. You deserve it."
He gathered some freshly prepared dragonlived food and ascended the stairs back to his cozy two-story shop-home, Ayla felt a warmth she hadn't realized she needed — a fragile kind of trust blooming between them.
Upstairs, Sebastian's house above the shop was cramped but warm, filled with the quiet buzz of old tech, clanking pipes, and dragonlived aroma. They sat across from each other at the small table, trays steaming with soft red dumplings—thick-skinned, essence-infused, and radiating subtle warmth.
"I'm sorry I couldn't help," Sebastian muttered, "I'm weak," he added, eyes low. Pushing a dumpling around with his fork. "They wait behind my shop almost every day. I haven't been able to restock the vault because of them. I sell those dragonlived meals, but they rob me every time I get a shipment and i still can't find a fucking way to make them stop. I've been hungry for weeks, having to have food ordered in the middle of the night to eat peacefully. Sorry for repeating myself."
Ayla didn't respond at first, chewing thoughtfully. The essence buzzed in her blood, but it did little to settle her thoughts.
She finally looked up. "You're not weak," she said flatly. "You were just outnumbered. Underprepared with No affinity."
"…Exactly!" Sebastian challenged.
Ayla looked down at her hand. Her skin buzzed faintly with suppressed essence. The gold mark from her Sunwheel glowed faintly beneath her wrist.
"I can help."
The voice—Mythos—whispered in her thoughts again.
"You want him stronger. You want him safe. You can do that. Do something nice for your first friend!"
She flinched slightly. Not responding.
"It's part of your Sunwheel. The first ring lets you gift an affinity."
Her brows furrowed. Sunwheel?
"Huh?" Sebastian blinked. "What'd you say?"
"I didn't say anything," she replied quickly, brushing it off.
"It's simple," Mythos continued, calm. "All you have to do… is press your lips to his forehead."
Ayla immediately recoiled. "FUCK no. That's gay."
Sebastian flinched, fork halfway to his mouth. "What?! Yo—what are you whispering? You been doing that this whole time! What the hell are you even talking about?"
She rolled her eyes, standing up and stretching her fingers. "Shut up and close your eyes."
Sebastian froze. "Wha—"
"I said close 'em."
Something in her voice made him obey. He sat stiffly, eyes shut, while Ayla stepped behind him as she walked in circles.
Grimacing in pure disgust, she muttered, "I swear to all the abyss, if I catch feelings I'll punch myself in the chest."
She brushed his bangs aside with two fingers, gagged audibly, and then—with the speed of a drive-by—kissed his forehead.
Click.
The room convulsed.
The lights burst into red brilliance. Heat exploded from Sebastian's core, knocking a framed picture off the wall. The dumplings shriveled, blackening at the edges. A slow wind coiled around the room despite no open windows.
A deep crimson aura erupted from Sebastian, wrapping him in flickering soul-flames. His freckles burned away. His red hair shimmered with liquid copper.
Then—his eyes snapped open. Gold.
"The Hellfire Affinity," Mythos screamed! "One of the highest affinities known in the Abyss. You won't be able to get that back and that was the strongest fire you had even though you still have the God & Emperor Tier Affinities for fire, Demons are born in it which makes that one the strongest, your loss!"
Ayla took a stunned step back as gravity itself seemed to lean toward him. The air thinned. Her knees shook slightly.
"You've just painted a target on both your backs," Mythos warned. "Beasts. Kings. Watchers. All will feel this. Prepare."
Sebastian looked up at her. Confused. Scared. Alive.
Ayla stared back, silent.
Then both their bodies wavered—essence drain kicking in hard. She stumbled forward. He slid sideways off the chair.
And they collapsed—out cold.
The streets of Xenalis still buzzed, but above the city's skies, King Eldric hovered silently atop his divine Skyrage, flanked by his elite Draconic Knights. His arms were crossed, watching everything — the fight, the awakening, the surge of forbidden essence.
His glowing golden eye narrowed.
"She gave someone an X-Tier Affinity…" he muttered to himself. "Just like her mother."
With a silent hand gesture, four Dragon Knights dove from the clouds like comets. Their obsidian armor hissed with steam as their boots hit the plaza ground, cracking the stone. Without knocking, they kicked open the tech shop's front door, bursting into the room where Ayla and Sebastian lay unconscious amid the scattered food trays and overturned furniture.
"By the Sovereign…" one knight whispered, shielding his face from the radiating heat.
Sebastian's skin was too hot to touch — steam rising from his arms like he was mid-forge. One knight summoned an essence weave sheet, wrapping it around Sebastian's body like fireproof silk before gently lifting him.
Another scooped up Ayla, with visible reverence. "The king said not a scratch," he muttered.
Within moments, the knights launched skyward again, streaking through the clouds like black-and-gold meteors. A trail of essence crackled behind them as they flew across Xenalis, carrying the two unconscious figures directly into the heart of the castle.