The Fallen's Guide - chapter 7

The rest became much simpler.

The Angel restrained her, as if discovering some amusement, attempting to mimic the way humans eat, tentatively pressing into her lips, savoring the pleasure brought by softness that was enough to shatter his reason.

He had never known that the soft mouth of a young girl could bring him such terrifying delight.

This was not the punishment of desire, but a welcome gift sent from hell.

He was addicted to this base desire, a strange light flickering in his hollow eyes, gradually revealing a melancholic, bard-like pale blue, making his features appear ever more exquisite and uncanny.

During Tang Nian’s gasping breaths, the elegant Angel propped himself up, slowly leaning toward her, his wounded wings dragging heavy Chains unconsciously closer, as if to encircle his possession.

Layer upon layer.

Unknowingly, Tang Nian was enclosed beneath his wings like a lamb awaiting slaughter.

When the kiss ended, Tang Nian’s lips were tinged red.

The Angel, who had been indifferent and distant at first, changed his demeanor quickly, like a docile swan, resting his forehead in the hollow of her neck, eyes closed in satisfaction.

The icy temperature nearly froze her stiff.

Tang Nian looked up and met those silver eyes, only to realize with a chill that his gaze was fixed directly at the depths of her own.

Her scalp tingled.

“Can you see now?”

The clear pupils obviously shifted upward, gazing at her eyes gently and calmly.

That look seemed to pierce through her flesh and into her soul.

He did not answer the question.

The seventh day was finally coming to an end.

Tang Nian easily plucked a Feather from the Angel while he was satisfied; perhaps he felt it, only frowning briefly before sinking back into the predatory game.

A chime sounded in her mind, signaling the completion of a stage Mission.

“You will forget all of this,” Tang Nian said with pity.

She would, too.

The fallen Angel could hear nothing.

He was immersed in deep satisfaction, instinctively nuzzling her fingers, a nameless joy rising within him, transforming his rejection into longing for her closeness.

Too dangerous, this human race.

Perhaps that was why God drove them out of Eden.

“What is your name, really?”

Tang Nian replied, “Andrea, you know that.”

“No.” He insisted, “Your real name.”

She answered casually, “Lily.”

Andrea, Lily-both made up.

Yet he seemed to believe her, holding Tang Nian’s shoulders, burying his face in her neck and softly murmuring, “Lily.”

His high, cold nose pressed against her skin, as if carefully inhaling her scent, his lips repeating low and slow, “Lily… my Lily.”

Is a fallen Angel still an Angel?

No, he is a Demon, a blend of holiness and sin.

Tang Nian felt uneasy from his actions and tried to rise, only to have her wrist caught.

“You’re leaving,” the Angel stated, as if sensing her departure in advance. “When will you come back?”

“Soon.”

“How soon is soon?”

He persisted in asking.

He had to have an answer.

This was unlike the ascetic Angel.

Tang Nian looked at him calmly, “Soon means soon.”

“Alright.” He seemed reassured, gradually relaxing his stiff wings. “I’ll wait for you.”

Wait?

It seemed he would be waiting for a long time.

“Exiting…
Logging out character…
Character about to go offline.”

With the help of the game’s master control, Tang Nian withdrew her consciousness.

Her soul floated.

From a third-person perspective, she saw that virtual body entwined with the sacred and magnificent winged being, the Angel’s beautiful face gently pressed against her neck, like a proud swan bowing its head.
He seemed to be whispering something in ‘her’ ear.

Tang Nian couldn’t hear it. But she was caught off guard when he suddenly turned his head, facing directly in her direction.

His originally silvery-white eyes suddenly shimmered with a gentle, ethereal glow like moonlight; the pupils vanished completely, leaving only a strange white.

Tang Nian’s heart skipped, then calmed down again.

He couldn’t see her. He was just a game NPC, and she was already logging out. This movement was probably a programming setting.

But the air suddenly grew cold.

The magnificent arched floor-to-ceiling windows began to shake violently, the Temple walls shed a layer of cracked shell, and a fissure split open in the pitch-black dome. In the blink of an eye, the ground trembled and the mountains swayed.

What was happening?

Tang Nian frowned, realizing she hadn’t actually logged out of the game yet.

It was as if she was stuck in a bug, suspended in midair.

She heard the sound of water.

Vast amounts of seawater surged into the Temple, roaring in like a flood, breaking through many thorny vines, wave after wave crashing against the Altar.

Soon, the windows shattered as well.

Tang Nian stared in shock at the seawater pouring in, finally realizing something.

Yes, no wonder every time dawn broke, the outside world would display gorgeous, dreamlike, rippling patterns of light.

Every time the game started, she was sent directly into the Temple, so Tang Nian had never noticed this problem.

This Temple was underwater.

A Temple submerged at the bottom of the sea?

In the darkness, scattered red lights appeared-they were the Sculptures scattered around.

They came in all shapes and forms, some holding bows and arrows, others raising long swords. These Sculptures resembled gods from Western fantasy, of various races.

There were Angels, Dragons, and bizarre creatures she couldn’t comprehend; these Sculptures had always seemed so lifelike.

Heavy plaster and bricks fell away.

They began to move slowly, opening their red eyes, coming to life one after another.

The Angel on the Altar put down the girl in its arms and stood up.

Facing the direction where Tang Nian’s consciousness floated, it reached out a hand and called softly, “Lily, come back.”

“Game Over”

“This map will enter hibernation. Player, please wait patiently for the next Mission release.”

Tang Nian abruptly opened her eyes and was back on the hospital bed.

At some point, a layer of sweat had formed on her body. Her breathing was unsteady, the familiar scent of disinfectant filled her nose, and seeing the blue-and-white striped hospital gown on her body, she gradually calmed down.

She had exited the game. What was that final scene on the Temple?

Was it a hidden plot?

“An Angel’s Wings are white, representing holiness and purity. Only a Demon’s Wings are black; they are the Dark Race, from hell.”

The intern doctor’s voice gradually became clear in her ear, awakening her sense of hearing.

A whole day had passed in the game, but in her world, it was just a blink. The doctor was still talking about what he’d said before she entered the game, endlessly explaining something.

Noticing Tang Nian’s oddness, he waved his hand in front of her eyes, “Did you understand?”

Tang Nian snapped back, “What?”

“This game of yours doesn’t make sense,” the doctor patiently repeated, “How could an Angel’s Feathers be black?”

Suddenly, her phone vibrated twice, and a new notification popped up on the screen.

It was called the Otherworld Disaster Origin Atlas.

It seemed to be a brand-new game feature, now unlocked and accessible, allowing her to view the NPC cards she had collected during her strategy.

Before Tang Nian could say anything, the doctor quickly tapped it open.

There, in the Card Pool, lay the first character card Tang Nian had collected.

The prompt: Fallen Six-Winged.

Doctor, “Whoa! Six wings!”

Tang Nian raised her hand and took the phone.

The doctor’s mouth dropped open, his eyes nearly round, “You can lift your hand? Your complexion…”

How did she suddenly look so much better?