The Fallen's Guide - chapter 8

Otherworld Disaster Origin Atlas?

Tang Nian’s attention was focused entirely on her phone screen.

The game interface was filled with cards steeped in religious symbolism. The card depicted Six Wings folded together, the lowest tip of the Feathers ending in a long, slender ankle. From between the closed Wings, a pale and beautiful hand reached out, exuding a strange sense of gloom.

It was like a butterfly about to tear through its cocoon and emerge.

Dark black patterns seeped upward from the tips of the Wings, staining a large portion of them, while the upper half remained pure white.

Like the tip of a brush dipped in ink.

Tang Nian’s memories of the Temple were fading.

Like an overexposed film, she was even forgetting what the Angel imprisoned atop the high platform looked like.

“The artwork is really good,” the doctor leaned over as well. “It’s my first time seeing Wings that are half black and half white, and Six Wings at that.”

“What’s special about Six Wings?” Tang Nian asked.

“You don’t know?” The doctor explained earnestly, “Most Angels only have one pair of Wings. They’re Virtues or Powers.”

“Four-Winged Angels are between Seraphim and Archangel, serving as guides of Heaven, responsible for judgment.”

The doctor held up three fingers. “And the highest rank… Angels can have up to three pairs of Wings.”

Tang Nian asked, “So Six-Winged Angel is the highest rank?”

The doctor’s expression turned reverent. “The Book of Isaiah in the Old Testament describes the Seraph, the Seraphim, with Six Wings: two Wings cover the face, two Wings cover the feet, and two Wings are for flying.”

This is one of the only records of Angels’ appearance and the number of Wings.

Six-Winged Angels have a human appearance, are the highest of Angels, infinitely close to God, and can communicate directly with God.

To some extent, Six-Winged Angels are the renowned vice-regents of Heaven.

Supreme, infinitely glorious.

Tang Nian stared at the Wings on the card, murmuring to herself, “Two Wings cover the face, two Wings cover the feet, two Wings…”

“There are very few Angels with Six Wings.”

The doctor’s voice reached her ears. “For example, Michael, Raphael, Gabriel-they are precious and rare, the Archangels of the nine ranks of Angels.”

He tapped the screen. “The most famous Six-Winged Angel with black Wings-you must have heard of him-is Lucifer.”

The famous fallen son of dawn, the handsome and wicked Satan.

“Don’t be fooled by just the color difference of the Wings-it’s the distinction between Angel and Demon,” the doctor suddenly said. “For example, true names. In Western fantasy worlds, true names have special uses. If you tell an Angel your true name, he will bring blessings to a maiden, but a Demon cannot.”

Tang Nian felt a chill at the back of her neck.

She raised her hand to touch her throat. “Why not?”

“You can’t tell a Demon your true name, or your soul will be controlled by the Demon…”

He didn’t finish before a professor called his name loudly from the doorway.

The intern doctor froze, like someone pitifully summoned by a Demon, suddenly remembering he was supposed to be doing rounds with the professor, and hurriedly tried to escape.

“I’ll come find you next time.”

Before Tang Nian could say anything, the young doctor vanished in a flash.

Can’t… tell a Demon your true name?

Tang Nian’s scalp tingled slightly, but she found it amusing.

It was just a game-she was being overly sensitive.

After surgery, and lying immobile for two days, Tang Nian felt she didn’t smell quite right.

In the afternoon, the nurse came to wash her hair and helped her change out of her hospital gown.

Once cleaned up, her thin body was clad in an overly loose hospital uniform, making her look frail and pitiful.
The patients in the same room couldn’t help but sigh, “Such a young girl, undergoing such a major heart surgery, and not a single family member came to accompany her.”

“Yeah, she’s been hospitalized for so long, and no one has come to visit her.”

“I heard she had an attack while locked in the school’s abandoned equipment room. If the security guard hadn’t found her in time, she would’ve died…”

Tang Nian closed her eyes, pretending not to hear.

At noon, the doctor came to change the pain pump, and Tang Nian drifted off into a hazy sleep.

When she woke again, it felt as if a layer of chaotic mist had settled over her mind.

She took her phone from under the pillow, opened the game, and stared blankly at the gray map.

She had lost her memory of the “Lost Temple.”

She only remembered entering this map and meeting… was it an Angel?

She couldn’t recall what had actually happened.

Thinking back over the past three months, Tang Nian felt a chill run down her spine, realizing she couldn’t remember a single detail.

She only vaguely remembered visiting a Temple; all other memories were like they’d been pixelated, muddled and unclear.

Her gaze lingered on the ornate Six-Winged Card, and Tang Nian knew that erasing memories was one of the game’s self-protection mechanisms.

To glimpse such great power itself was deeply damaging to the human soul.

Suddenly, a small prompt popped up at the top of her phone screen:

“Temporary Mission: A dying Elf with broken Wings lies by the Stream. Will you save him?”

“A. Agree”

“B. Refuse”

Tang Nian was baffled; this was her first time encountering a temporary Mission.

After hesitating for a moment, she clicked Agree.

This time, it was different from before-there was no sensation of weightlessness, nor was she transported into the game.

Instead, the image on the screen changed: the original delicate Parchment Map became a blurry pixel animation.

In a patch of dark green doodled forest, a blue, sketch-like Stream ran through it, and by the water’s edge, a Pixel Character lay faintly visible.

“The Elf is injured. Go closer and take a look!”

The graphics were so poor… Tang Nian couldn’t help but think of those trashy ad games that pop up when browsing the web.

The blurry Pixel Character had half its body on the grass, the other half soaking in the blue Stream.

There were no extra function options on the screen. Tang Nian hesitated, then reached out and dragged the little figure by the Stream onto the green grass.

The next second, the character moved with her action to the grassy area.

A prompt box popped up.

“Congratulations, Player! Rescue successful. You’ve gained an extra hour of Life Value!”

“…” That’s it?

Tang Nian’s mouth twitched.

This childish little game… Tang Nian kept tapping the screen, secretly complaining that if she’d encountered this game at age three, she’d probably have more patience operating it than now.

Poor little thing, its Wings were all broken.

Could it still fly?

Soon, another prompt box with a yellow exclamation mark popped up.

“Oh no, the Elf’s Life Value is rapidly declining. Will you save him?”

“A. Stop the bleeding for him”

“B. Ignore”

Looking closely, she finally noticed a subtle wound on the wet shoulder of the Pixel Character, oozing green liquid. The graphics were so poor, she’d missed it before.

So that green liquid was the Elf’s blood?

Poor little thing.