Number 023: Angel
First Observation Record:
After drinking the potion, subject 023—formerly Moon—underwent a radical transformation. Her body sprouted large, snow-white feathers, and a pair of massive wings emerged from her back, giving her a radiant and sacred appearance. Her hair and all body fur turned pure white, adding to the celestial transformation. As the metamorphosis concluded, 023's wings folded around her, and she fell into a deep sleep, cocooned within her new form.
Second Observation Record:
At 8:30 a.m, the villa's nanny entered as usual, unaware of the dramatic changes that had taken place. The sound of the doorbell stirred 023 from her slumber. Upon seeing the transformed Moon, the nanny screamed, her voice piercing the air at over 60 decibels.
The scream triggered a response in 023. Her feathers began to shift, growing in response to the sound. As the nanny's terror faded into shock, 023 seemed displeased by the silence. She embraced the woman with her massive wings, the soft feathers comforting her into an almost unnatural sleep.
Then, in an instant, the feathers turned lethal. The soft tips became razor-sharp, stabbing into the nanny's body. Though delicate in appearance, 023's feathers acted like blades, slicing through flesh with ease. The nanny's screams intensified, reaching over 85 decibels, her throat soon choking on blood.
After further study, it was discovered that the tips of 023's feathers had a unique ability: they overstimulated the pain receptors in the human body, causing excruciating, prolonged agony without inducing shock. The nanny's screams persisted for a full three minutes before her body was consumed by 023's wings.
Once the sound ceased, a new pair of wings sprouted from 023's back, and her existing wings grew even larger. Curiously, the nanny's body had vanished completely, absorbed into the evolving entity. With the silence, 023 fell into another deep sleep—one she could not control.
Third Observation Record:
It has been confirmed that 023 evolves by consuming sound, particularly screams. The louder the sound, the more it provokes her growth. Screams from living creatures, in particular, accelerate her transformation.
Now, 023 has evolved into an eight-winged angel, her body growing larger and more fearsome with each cycle of sound consumption. Interestingly, she shows no response to non-living sounds; for instance, the ringing of her cell phone didn't wake her. However, the chime of the villa's main doorbell has consistently roused her from sleep.
Fourth Observation Record:
To test this theory, I—Mei—personally rang the bell, and as expected, 023 awakened. Her reaction to the bell is significant. Later, her father, one of the GPA directors, arrived at the villa and also triggered the bell, waking 023.
But unlike previous encounters, she did not attack him. Instead, 023 remained calm, even serene, in his presence.
Back to the Present:
The middle-aged man stood before the white-haired, eight-winged creature that had once been his daughter. His eyes narrowed in disbelief, wavering between terror and heartbreak. "Daughter... is it you?" he whispered.
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Moon, now fully transformed, spread her arms wide, her eight wings unfurling behind her like a great celestial being. "Yes, look at me, Father. I'm standing."
His heart raced with a mix of fear and confusion. "No… Who came to you? Who turned you into this?! Tell me!"
Gripping her shoulders, he shook her, desperation in his voice. "Tell me who did this!"
Moon clasped her hands together in a prayer-like posture, her serene voice unsettling in its calm. "A goddess."
Her words were spoken with unwavering reverence, her expression that of a devoted follower. The man staggered back, dizzy with the weight of her words. "Goddess? No... That cannot be a god!"
Moon stretched her pure white arms toward him. "Look at what the goddess has done. She didn't just heal my legs—she made me divine. I am an angel."
The director shook his head violently. "No! You're not an angel! You're… you're an object. You'll be treated as one. Do you understand?! In this world, there are no angels or demons! If they exist, they're nothing but objects!"
His voice cracked with guilt. "I... I'm so sorry to your mother!"
He pounded his chest, eyes filled with grief and helplessness. His daughter was no longer human. But as one of the GPA's directors, protocol dictated that any object—no matter how extraordinary or dangerous—be reported and contained. Yet this object was his own child. How could he consign her to a containment cell?
The man's heart throbbed painfully as he watched Moon's serene smile. His mind swirled with conflict, torn between the love of a father and the duty he held as a GPA director. How could he reconcile these two irreconcilable truths? His daughter, now a celestial monster, possessed terrifying power. If she were to unleash it upon the world, countless lives would be at risk.
But looking at her now, smiling like she used to when she was just a little girl, telling him about her dreams of flying in the sky—he couldn't do it. He couldn't end her life, even though the weight of responsibility pressed down like an iron vice.
His hand unconsciously hovered over the gun at his waist, trembling as he considered what had to be done. But then, Moon reached out, gently placing her hand over his.
"You don't need to worry so much," she said softly. Her voice was soothing, almost hypnotic. "I can control myself. This power… it belongs to me now."
The man's heart clenched, and he looked up to meet her gaze, only to see her smiling radiantly, with an expression so pure and innocent it nearly broke him.
"Do you know," Moon continued, her voice carrying the same lightness as a feather, "I've never felt better than I do now. It's like I've become the bird you told me about in all those fairy tales—free to fly into the sky and chase the sun. Isn't that what you always wanted for me?"
His throat tightened, words stuck somewhere between guilt and helplessness. His lips quivered as he pulled out a small transmitter.
"Detected, Object."
The words fell from his mouth like stones, heavy with regret. The moment they were uttered, the villa's doors burst open. Fully armed soldiers stormed in, their boots thundering against the floor as they formed a tight perimeter around Moon. Their weapons were trained on her, their eyes fixed on her monstrous wings.
Moon turned toward them, her expression calm, almost amused. "Father, you didn't have to invite so many people. I'll go with you willingly," she said, her tone light. "You only needed to ask."
The man stared at her blankly. "Tell me," he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his grief, "are you still yourself?"
"Of course," Moon replied softly, her wings twitching behind her. "I've never changed. I am still me."
His anger flared. "Then where are the nanny and the housekeeper?!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the room. His roar seemed to pierce through Moon's gentle exterior, as her feathers suddenly bristled, growing taller and more menacing.
"Please," she whispered, pressing a finger against his lips. "Don't shout. I wouldn't want to… lose control and listen to more of your voice than I should."
Her wings spread out gently behind her, casting soft shadows on the walls. "You asked where the nanny and the housekeeper are? They're still here, always by my side, waiting—patiently waiting for the day they'll be reborn."
The man's breath caught. His mind raced as horror set in. He realized, with sickening clarity, that his daughter had consumed them. And yet, she spoke so calmly, as though she truly believed she'd merely kept them "waiting."
"I don't yet have the power to bring them back," Moon continued, her tone as serene as ever, "but I will, one day. Everyone who has died will return. And I… I will rise in this world as the victor, cleansing it of sin and filth. I am righteous. Father, surely you will understand me. No—you must."