Prologue: Awakening

In a dim basement, a young girl lay on the damp floor.

She was around seventeen or eighteen. Her long, pale golden hair was scattered messily beneath her. Her features were delicate and her face lovely; even the ill-fitting men's clothes could not hide her tender, fair skin. Yet a pained expression was forming on that exquisite face, the skin between her tightly shut eyes creased into a deep furrow that shifted in the flickering candlelight.

Just as the candle on the candlestick was about to burn out, the girl awakened.

Clutching her forehead, which felt as if it were about to explode from within, she groaned and crawled up from the floor. The overly large clothes exposed more of her skin as she moved, but she paid no attention to it—or rather, she had not noticed at all.

"I... didn't die? Where am I? A hospital, or a church?" the girl muttered to herself, then was startled by her own voice. "My voice... cough—" She coughed dryly several times, but her voice was still unlike before.

Looking around, the girl discovered that she was in a strange and eerie environment. Dark red bloodstains spread outward across the uneven floor with her at the center, mixed with several unidentified black objects. Half-open boxes were piled in the corner, empty inside. The candleholder on the stone table, dripping with wax, was the room's only light source. As if blown by the wind, it swayed restlessly, casting the various alchemical tools on the stone table into alternating light and shadow. The crucible on the stove still gave off residual heat. The only exit seemed to be a flight of stairs leading upward. This could not possibly be the hospital or church she remembered. It looked more like the site of a secret cult ritual.

She reached toward her waist, but the holster that should have been there was gone as well.

Had she somehow survived, only to be captured?

Just then, the last candle finally burned down to its end, and its faint but warm light flickered out.

Strangely, the world in the girl's eyes remained perfectly clear, as though an invisible light were shining over everything around her.

No. She had to leave this strange place immediately.

The damp surroundings, the windowless walls, the stairs leading upward—this was obviously a basement, so her destination was clear.

Gritting her teeth against the headache, the girl straightened up and headed toward the stairs she had seen earlier. Along the way, the oversized trousers tried several times to slip off her body. She had no choice but to grip the waistband with one hand while using the other to steady herself against the damp basement wall, slowly making her way up the stairs.

Apparently unaccustomed to the length of her limbs, she was tripped by the overly long pant legs and kicked her toes against the stairs before finally reaching the top and touching the trapdoor in the ceiling.

"Good thing it isn't locked from the outside. Otherwise, without any handy tools, escaping would be far too difficult..."

Grasping the handle on the trapdoor, the girl did not open it right away. Instead, she cautiously pushed it open a crack and peered outside.

It matched her guess. She really was in a basement. Directly outside the trapdoor was a wall, illuminated by red light. Apart from some furniture by the wall, there was no one in sight.

Good. First, sneak out and find a chance to call for help. At worst, she had to escape to an open area so the positioning chip inside her body could transmit its signal.

Having made up her mind, she gently pushed open the trapdoor, nimbly climbed out of the basement, then put it back in place behind her. She made no sound from beginning to end. If not for the fact that one hand was still holding up her trousers, the whole process could have been even smoother.

Without the trapdoor blocking her view, the girl was finally able to observe the room in its entirety under the crimson glow.

The basement trapdoor was located in the very center of the room. A landscape painting hung on the wall directly opposite it. To the left was a tightly closed door, fitted with an old-fashioned bolt. An unidentified plant stood beside it, taking on a bewitching shape in the red light. Opposite the door was a rather old-fashioned desk, upon which lay a thick book covered in rough, messy notes. A steel pen, ink, and other books were scattered casually across it.

Only when she looked higher did the girl realize that the source of the red light was not a lamp, as she had imagined, but the window.

As if possessed, she ignored the lower garment that had slipped off her body during her movements. Crawling on all fours to the desk, she used it to pull herself up and looked out the window.

Outside lay a street similarly stained by crimson light. The late-night street was deserted. The stone-paved road, iron lamp posts, and rows of buildings across the street were all covered by the same crimson "tablecloth."

In the pitch-black night sky, the scarlet "moon" peeped at the street, the study, and the girl within like the eye of a demon.

"Ah—ah!" The headache suddenly became even more severe. She could no longer remain standing, and her legs gave way as she collapsed to her knees beside the desk. Only her slender arms still clung to the desk, using that little strength to keep herself from falling flat.

As though only now finding the time to look, she noticed her arms beneath the red moonlight. Then she lowered her gaze along them to her torso, and then to her legs, now freed from the restraints of her lower garment.

"No, this isn't... How could this be!"

Angel, once a man and also a Templar Knight, screamed in a voice as melodious as a nightingale, yet utterly unfamiliar to himself.

"...This is your only chance to become a Beyonder. Are you really going to give it up..."

"...This mission is extremely dangerous. My suggestion is that you..."

"...You don't think this is the end, do you? Follow the rules of acting, and as your Sequence rises, you will see even more..."

"...You are the bait. If you are unwilling, you can withdraw now..."

"...I didn't expect you to complete your advancement so quickly. Then it is time for me to fulfill my promise..."

"...The main force has yet to finish assembling. We can only rely on ourselves to hold it back..."

"...These are the potion ingredients for Sequence 7, 'Witch.' I hope you will like your new identity..."

A string of words surged up from the depths of her memories, some resolute and decisive, others intensely seductive, echoing in her ears.

Soon, the whispers in her ears grew fainter and fainter, until only the throbbing of her blood vessels remained, along with the red moon growing ever larger in her vision.

"Ruen Kingdom? Tingen City? What kind of place is this..."

That was her final thought.