“Where am I?” That was the first thought that shot through Arata’s mind as his eyes blinked open to an endless white void. His body felt weightless, like he was floating in space. His brow furrowed, and his lips twitched slightly as confusion set in, his fingers instinctively curling into loose fists by his sides. His legs shifted subtly as if trying to find stable ground that wasn't there, his stance wavering between balance and disbelief. His chest rose in steady but deep breaths, reflecting his attempt to stay calm despite the strange surroundings.
Suddenly, a voice cut through the blankness. “Wolf… You are the son of the wolf, right?” The voice, distinctly feminine, echoed in his ears, and his body tensed slightly, his head whipping toward the direction of the sound. His jaw tightened, lips pressing into a firm line, eyes narrowing in suspicion as he scanned the empty expanse.
“Who?” Arata's response came almost unconsciously, his voice sharp but carrying a trace of bewilderment. His arms moved instinctively, hands spreading out slightly as if trying to grasp for something tangible in the emptiness. His body leaned forward just a bit, weight shifting to his toes, as though ready to spring into action if necessary. His fingers flexed and relaxed repeatedly, betraying his growing anticipation.
Then, out of the nothingness, a figure materialized. A woman. Arata's eyes snapped to her, widening for a moment before narrowing again in cautious observation. She was petite, no taller than five feet, her frame delicate but with a quiet strength. Her posture was poised, with her legs placed close together, feet bare and dainty, each toe perfectly aligned, almost ethereal. Her thighs were smooth and well-proportioned, leading up to her hips, which had a subtle curve that the tight white dress emphasized without exaggeration. The dress clung to her body, outlining the slender form of her waist before fitting snugly over her chest.
Her chest was neither overly large nor small but perfectly in balance with her figure, rising and falling gently with each measured breath. Her shoulders were narrow and smooth, her arms hanging loosely at her sides, but there was a soft grace to the way her hands rested—delicate fingers slightly apart, palms relaxed as though accustomed to serenity. Her neck was long and elegant, leading to her face, which seemed both innocent and knowing. Her cheeks were softly rounded, giving her an almost youthful look, though there was something ancient in her gaze.
Her eyes, large and almond-shaped, were a deep, striking brown, framed by long lashes that flickered gently as she blinked. There was a depth in her stare, a calm that seemed to see through Arata. Her nose was small and slightly upturned, adding a cute but refined balance to her face, while her lips were soft and full, their natural pink hue standing out against the pale glow of her skin. Her hair was a rich brown, falling in soft waves down to her mid-back, framing her face with an effortless beauty. The locks caught the light, gleaming faintly in the otherwise stark space, adding warmth to her otherwise ethereal appearance.
Her body had an effortless grace, but what stood out most were the wings. Two large, pure white wings extended from her back, arching high over her head before gently cascading downward. Each feather was meticulously detailed, catching the faint light in the space, their edges soft yet sharp, like the wings of a mythical being. The way her wings moved, ever so slightly, suggested they were as much a part of her as her arms or legs, their slow undulating motions resembling a subtle breath of life.
“Angela,” she finally introduced herself. Her voice was soft, yet there was an underlying firmness to it, like the voice of someone used to being listened to. Her stature might have been petite, but there was a weight to her presence. As she stood there, her legs slightly apart now, with one foot subtly forward, she exuded confidence and calm, her back straight, her wings gently rising and falling as though they, too, breathed with her.
Arata's eyes moved up and down, taking in every inch of her form, from the tips of her toes to the graceful curve of her wings. His jaw clenched slightly as he tried to make sense of her appearance. His legs shifted again, knees bending slightly, feet rooting themselves into the unseen ground. His body was now more grounded, ready for whatever was about to come next.
“That thing you are fighting, Divine. You can’t defeat her without my help,” Angela's voice was calm yet carried an air of absolute certainty. Her delicate wings fluttered lightly as she spoke, the feathers shifting with a barely perceptible ripple. Her chest rose and fell with even breaths, but there was a subtle tension in her posture, a sense of restrained power. Her hands, with fingers gracefully curved, hung at her sides but her index finger twitched slightly, as if emphasizing her point with an invisible force.
Arata's brow furrowed deeply. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out immediately. His arms, initially hanging loosely by his sides, began to rise, his hands slowly lifting towards his chest, fingers flexing slightly in hesitation. His feet shifted on the blank ground, the weight of his body moving from one leg to the other, displaying his uncertainty. “A contract?” he asked, his voice laced with confusion. His head tilted slightly to the side, lips pursed as he tried to comprehend the gravity of what she was suggesting.
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Angela’s wings shifted once more, this time flaring outward ever so slightly as if to punctuate her next words. “Just like that bat your friend has,” she began, her head tilting forward slightly as she looked at Arata with a gaze that seemed to pierce straight through him. Her eyes were sharp, intense, despite their softness, and her brow furrowed just the tiniest bit. “You can also form a contract with me, but it’s more or less a deal.” She took a small step forward, her bare feet making no sound on the non-existent floor, her slim legs moving with a fluid grace that made her seem like she was gliding rather than walking.
Arata’s eyes narrowed further, his confusion only deepening. His mouth opened slightly again, as if he were about to say something, but he hesitated. His hands clenched briefly before relaxing again. “What is this deal?” he finally asked, his voice quieter this time, almost as if he was speaking to himself.
Angela’s wings settled back into their original position, folding ever so slightly behind her, and her body straightened, shoulders pulling back. She lifted one hand to her chest, fingers resting lightly just above her heart as if to swear an oath. Her other hand remained at her side, fingers grazing the fabric of her tight white dress, brushing against the soft material as it clung to her lithe form. “Wolf, to unlock my true potential, you need 10 rings,” she explained, her tone growing more serious. As she listed the names, her head dipped slightly with each word, her voice steady and sure. “Wolf, Dolphin, Falcon, Tortoise, Leopard, Serpent, Panther, Bear, Shark, and finally, Lion.”
Arata blinked slowly, his chest rising and falling with deliberate breaths, the confusion clear on his face. His hands, which had been loosely held by his sides, now rose up to his face. He rubbed the back of his neck, his muscles tensing, as if trying to release the building tension within him. His knees bent slightly as if ready to move or run, though there was nowhere to go. “What?” he breathed out, his voice heavy with disbelief.
Angela’s body remained composed, but there was a hint of impatience in her eyes as she continued. Her fingers curled briefly into the fabric of her dress before relaxing. Her wings gave a slight, nearly imperceptible twitch behind her. “Right now, with my power, you will be able to defeat Divine,” she explained, her voice steady, though her gaze remained fixed on Arata, watching his every move. “But you won’t be able to fight what The King has in store for us in the future. So, we will need those 10 rings.”
Arata’s head snapped upward, his eyes locking with hers. His arms, which had been resting by his sides again, tensed slightly, his fists clenched. His chest rose and fell more heavily now, his breathing becoming more audible as the weight of the situation settled in. His legs remained planted firmly on the ground, his body slightly leaning forward in anticipation. “So, will you accept, Wolf’s child?” Angela’s question hung in the air, her tone carrying an otherworldly certainty. Her wings remained still, perfectly poised behind her, their edges gleaming faintly in the lightless void.
Arata took a deep breath, his shoulders lifting with the effort, and his gaze dropped momentarily to the ground beneath him, as if searching for answers in the emptiness. His fingers unclenched and stretched out, his hands trembling slightly before he brought them together, fingers interlocking as if trying to ground himself. “Can I beat that monster?” he asked, his voice quieter now, filled with a hesitant hope. His legs shifted again, the muscles in his calves tensing as though ready to propel him forward, though his stance remained fixed.
Angela’s chest swelled with a deep breath, her shoulders rising slightly as she straightened to her full, though petite, height. “Of course,” she responded, her voice carrying a slight edge of pride. Her hands moved slowly now, one extending out in front of her, palm up as if offering the truth of her words. “Who do you think I am?” Her wings unfurled just a bit, the soft sound of feathers brushing against the air. “I am the strongest ring to ever exist, I am the first that was ever tamed,” she declared, her voice rising with a quiet intensity. “An angel far beyond someone’s comprehension.” Her gaze hardened, her lips curving slightly into the barest hint of a smirk. “There is no one as strong as me, not even god himself can handle my power.”
Arata’s breath hitched in his throat, his chest rising and falling with a slow, deliberate rhythm as if preparing himself for what was about to come. His hands dropped to his sides, fingers flexing and curling as he mentally prepared for the unknown. His legs remained firm, knees slightly bent, as if steadying himself for a great weight. He inhaled deeply, the sound of his breath loud in the otherwise silent space. “Then… I accept…” he breathed out, the exhaustion clear in his tone. His eyes closed for just a brief moment, as though gathering the last remnants of his resolve.
Angela’s wings flared wide behind her, the motion graceful yet powerful. Her hand lowered slowly, and a serene but triumphant expression crossed her face. “And so the contract has been signed!” she announced with quiet finality, her body now perfectly still, save for the gentle flutter of her wings. Her eyes locked onto Arata, watching as his body finally relaxed, the weight of their new bond settling over him like an invisible cloak.
Arata stood there, shoulders slumped slightly, his breaths slow but deep, as if he had just crossed an invisible threshold into something far beyond human comprehension.