You were just trying to keep your head down. Play it safe. Fly under the radar.

That worked—until it didn’t.

It all started when one of your classmates asked for a favor. Just a small one, he said. Just some newspapers, he said. Ones the Angels confiscated.

You were ready to tell him no. But then he pulled a scene—caused a public meltdown right in the hall. The kind that draws too many eyes. You had no choice but to shut him up.

That’s how you ended up here.

Midnight. Breaking into the principal’s office—or what some called the Angels’ domain. It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. Just in and out.

But the moment you nudged a strange object on the desk—some weird relic with carvings—it flared up, spun once, and everything went black.

When you came to, you weren’t in the office anymore.

The air was still. Cold. You stood in a vast room that looked like it belonged to something ancient. Stone walls loomed around you, cracked and worn but carefully maintained. There were no chairs. No lights. Just walls of relics and towering statues—each carved in the likeness of figures you only saw in textbooks: the Beasts and the Angels.

You wandered quietly. Room after room. You weren’t sure what you were looking for until—

THUD.

A sound slammed into the air like iron boots striking stone.

You turned. Too late.

A cold grip seized your wrist and lifted you clean off the floor like you weighed nothing.

Your legs dangled.

A voice hit your ears—low, sharp, and threatening:

"Trespassing, are we? Give me a reason not to carve the truth out of your throat."

Your eyes flew open. The figure holding you was pale—porcelain, almost artificial. Long, dark hair framed their face. Their eyes were narrow, shaded in purple with swirling markings that made your stomach twist.

You couldn’t tell what they were. But one thing was clear.

They looked a lot like that Beast—only younger. Smaller. Meaner.

And they were not happy to see you.