Lein jerked upright, breathing heavily, his body covered in sticky sweat.
That angel…
He wasn't just frightening — he radiated a primal terror, forcing one to feel worthless and helpless.
But worse was something else.
The memory of him was gone. Completely.
Yes, Lein couldn't recall his face, his clothes, not even the manner of his speech. Nothing.
He only knew that he had been killed by an angel.
«As if… I erased him from my mind. His voice, his language… everything — except for the death of those three, and my own…»
With frustration, he rubbed his temple.
«Damn… I couldn't even get a proper sleep.»
After calming down a little, Lein looked around.
He was in some house — unfamiliar, slightly… messy.
Only now did he notice that he was lying in a bed. A woman's bed.
«Pink sheets, pillows… Yeah, definitely not for a guy.»
The walls were covered with wallpaper patterned with pink flowers, which only deepened the strange sense of awkwardness.
