Amidst the engulfing smoke and vapor, Hesia's familiar face emerged, her eyes beneath the hood particularly bright, like transparent blue glass, seeing through the surprise and complex emotions of the two.
"It's me." She slightly lifted her head, her gaze passing over Seraphiel's cheek, looking towards the burning three pairs of wings behind her.
The term "angelic descent" was equally applicable to Seraphiel, and particularly fitting.
Unseen for years, this classmate had become a high-ranking member of the Cult's branch, indicating that the religious circles within the Federation were particularly well connected.
As she slightly withdrew her fingers, the smoke and vapor permeating the church instantly turned into delicate powder ice particles, falling from the air like rain, making a rustling sound, and the air became exceptionally clear.
