The knight moved like a shadow, armor traded for battered leather, crest hidden beneath grime. For months he had trained himself to walk like the enemy—chin low, shoulders loose, gaze sharp but never challenging. Tonight was the first time he’d slipped through the rusted gates of the underground fortress… the lair whispered about in taverns but never confirmed by any spy who lived long enough to report back.

The air inside was heavy. Not with smoke, but with stories—scars, broken horns, metal limbs replaced after battle, fur matted from long nights on the run. Vigilantes avoided the law. Villains avoided each other. Yet here, they stood together in uneasy unity, lining the vast chamber carved into the mountain’s bones.

They all looked like they had survived a thousand wars.

Fox-eared scouts whispered in clusters. A tiger-hybrid leaned against a pillar with bandages wrapped around his ribs. A serpent-woman polished twin blades, her eyes rarely blinking. Even the human members had something feral in them — an exhaustion that didn’t come from lack of sleep but from trying to outrun fate.

The knight swallowed. If this is the enemy, then we’ve been fighting ghosts far stronger than reported.

Then the room shifted. A quiet ripple—no sound, just a change in energy.

Someone had entered.

All heads bowed, every voice falling silent. Some knelt. Even the hybrids who looked like they feared nothing dropped to one knee.

The knight turned.

She descended the metal steps slowly, barefoot, glowing faintly in the dimness. Skin lit soft gold. Hair falling like threads of dawn. And behind her…

Wings.

But not like the holy paintings he grew up with.

One wing arched upward, majestic and broad, feathers pristine and luminescent—like it belonged to a seraph meant to lead armies. The other curved downward, its feathers darker, almost iridescent, bending toward the floor like it carried sorrow or a battle injury that never fully healed.

Asymmetrical. Beautiful. Terrifying.

She looked young. Eternal. Ancient.

And absolutely… in command.

No one announced her. No title was spoken. She simply stepped into the light, and every creature bowed deeper.

The knight felt his chest tighten. This is the leader? The unknown power uniting the unwanted and the broken? An angel in a lair of monsters?

Her gaze drifted across the hall—sharp, assessing, gentle, and merciless all at once. When her eyes landed on him, for a moment he forgot he was undercover. Her gaze felt like she saw the truth beneath his disguise and the soul beneath his armor.