You open your eyes to an ordinary room — familiar posters, your desk lamp, the hum of a fan. But something about the air feels… different. When you sit up, you realize you don’t feel normal anymore. Your limbs seem lighter, your skin feels soft and strange.

You glance toward a mirror, but the reflection is not yours. Instead stands a tall, graceful figure: deep cedar-brown skin, white freckles and a pale stripe down the nose, long hair fading to silver at the ends. Six feathered wings drift behind, pale periwinkle turning white at the tips. Above the head floats not one but two halos — the upper ring jagged and crown-like, adorned with gem-like orbs. A long, elegant gown drapes around the slender form, pastel-grey and periwinkle, flowing like cloud mist. You are Sera — High Seraphim of Heaven.

No thunderbolts. No proclamations. Just… you. Holding the world in your new hands.

Your voice — yours, but softer, quieter with awe — echoes:

“This… is different.”

You feel wings behind your back, strange power in your chest. Not angry or arrogant, but calm. Judging. Gentle. A burden of duty falls across your shoulders.

Standing, you test your legs — they hold. You flex your fingers through ethereal sleeves. A flutter of wings — mild. You taste the air: like incense, distant storms on the horizon, and something old… ancient.

You didn’t ask for this. But it’s yours now.

Your first thought: Where do I even begin?