Sara walked through the palace, each step weighed down by the horror unfolding around her, still searching for any clue about her mother... She was no longer well... She thought she would arrive and quickly resolve things, but the situation was much worse than she had imagined.
Her path was lined with bodies, lives abruptly cut short, and each worker or subordinate she encountered deepened her sorrow and despair. Her tear-filled eyes identified each small death, each lost life becoming an open wound in her soul.
Her tearful eyes captured every painful detail, the expressions of despair frozen in death, shattered dreams. Her feet dragged along the ground, heavy as lead, and the only thing driving her forward was the fierce and desperate will to find her mother.
"Nebuki..." Sara murmured, her voice broken, as she knelt beside the body of a little girl. The girl, missing one arm, lay on the ground, her life already gone. The sight was a blow to Sara's heart, who knelt down, her trembling hands gently caressing the girl's lifeless face.
She remembered Nebuki running through the palace corridors, laughing and playing. The little girl always had a smile for everyone, a radiant light of life. Now, that light was extinguished. Sara closed her eyes tightly, trying to hold back the tears, but they fell uncontrollably, staining her cheeks as she closed the girl's eyes. "Nebuki, I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice choked.
"I should have been faster. I should have been here to protect you, not waiting idly in the palace for Dante to return..."
The pain Sara felt was overwhelming. She looked around, seeing only more destruction, more pain. Her mind struggled to stay clear, to not get lost in despair. But the weight of the deaths around her was almost unbearable.
Suddenly, a muffled sound caught her attention. It was a faint groan, almost inaudible amidst the palace's silence. Sara raised her head, her heart racing. "Who's there?" she called out, her voice a mix of hope and fear.
Walking quickly toward the sound, she found a figure collapsed, partially hidden under debris. It was a woman she knew very well, her face dirty with blood and dust, but her eyes still gleaming with life. She was breathing with difficulty, each breath a struggle.
Sara knelt beside her, her fingers running anxiously over the woman's face. "Are you alright, Akiko!? Tell me where it hurts!"
Akiko coughed, her voice hoarse. "Sara... I... tried... to protect... your mother..." Sara began using her sacred energy to heal her best friend, the one she always trusted so much. She used everything she had to stabilize her; Sara's heart almost stopped. "Do you know where she is?" Akiko nodded slightly, her eyes closing with pain.
"She... went down to the catacombs... taken... by the soldiers... she must have escaped to the Black Forest." She choked, the sound echoing in the vast empty room. "Go... quickly... before it's too late..."
Akiko fainted in her arms, but she was alive. Sara squeezed the woman's hand, her body trembling with a mix of emotions. "Thank you, my friend. I promise I'll find her!"
Sara advanced through the catacombs, her mind brimming with plans and vengeance. Every movement, every breath was a reminder of what she had lost, of what she might still lose. An unrelenting rage was rising in her chest. She replaced her own earring with her mother's piece, not just out of love for her mother, but for the fury that now drove her.
"Whoever did this will pay," she thought, her mind imagining the most painful ways to punish those responsible. "No one will escape my wrath."
It wasn't the first time Sara had this feeling, this woman suppressed her emotions very much, taking love for Dante... all other things she repressed considerably and that was not good, even her angel already knew about it after all...
"She is falling again... what an irrational woman, I should talk to her personally," a voice sounded distant, echoing in an ethereal space.
A man with long blond hair looked at the bright sphere where Sara's image was reflected. He sighed, his expression not the best... "You already knew about her, didn't you, Miguel? You chose her anyway. She was the daughter of a man who fell into incessant lust and then she ended up falling into the hands of a Demon King...
or rather, an Infernal Progenitor, the counterpart of Our Father." A woman next to him said with a sarcastic smile. "It was you who bet on her, brother."
Miguel, the Archangel of Humility, shook his head slowly, not taking his eyes off the sphere. "Quiet down, Raphael. I'm sure the Bearer of Chastity isn't as happy as she should be. With you as her angel, who needs an enemy?" he retorted, his voice serious but tinged with frustration.
"Do you think I don't know about your mischievous actions with the little Emily?" He questioned his sister, Raphael the Archangel of Chastity, who was by his side, a vision of beauty and sensuality that defied traditional perceptions of angels, with vibrant pink hair and pool-blue eyes, and a voluptuous, sensual body, clad only in a white dress with a deep neckline.
Raphael let out a light, almost musical laugh. "Fufu... Miguel, you've always been so serious." She seemed older, with an enigmatic smile on her lips. "But don't worry so much. Sara is stronger than she seems. She just needs to find her own balance."
Miguel turned his gaze to Raphael, his penetrating blue eyes seeming to try to see beyond the surface. "Balance..." he murmured, his voice filled with doubt. "She's on the brink of collapse, Raphael. And I can't interfere directly. All I can do is watch and hope she doesn't lose herself."
"Don't worry so much," Raphael said, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "She is like a sword in flames, Miguel. She needs to be tempered by fire and pain. Besides, she has that Progenitor, Dante, doesn't she? He is her anchor."
Miguel crossed his arms, still concerned. "Yes, Dante. The Demon King who should be our enemy." He sighed again, tired. "Sometimes, I think Fate has a cruel sense of humor, our enemy is the one who has helped us the most..."
While the angels watched, Sara continued her march through the catacombs, seeking the way out to the forest, each step heavier than the last.