The sky turned red.
Not orange from sunset.
Not crimson clouds drifting by.
Red.
As if the heavens themselves had begun to bleed, the color seeping into every shadow.
A suffocating pressure descended, pressing down like an invisible ocean.
A chill ran down the spines of every fallen angel present, frost forming on their armor.
Even Corvin's jaw tightened faintly, a muscle twitching.
The air trembled, thick with anticipation.
Something was coming, its aura warping reality itself.
The sky trembled, cracks of thunderless lightning flickering.
Then—
A figure materialized in the air above the village, descending without motion.
She looked no older than her early twenties, yet her presence screamed eternity.
Blood-red hair flowed down her back like liquid flame, moving even though there was no wind, tendrils coiling like living serpents. Her eyes were the same shade—deep crimson, glowing faintly as if something ancient burned within them, depths swirling with hunger.
