It was as if, after the embrace, the phantom image of a thirty-six-winged angel slowly flew toward Sister Celine, then passed straight through her body.
White feathers fluttered through the church before gradually fading away. In the end, only one feather remained, drifting slowly downward.
A tiny hand caught the feather at that moment. Before him stood a little boy—Medanzo.
"Do you remember everything now?"
Sister Celine froze, then fell silent for a moment... She nodded somewhat fearfully. "How could you..."
"I told you, it was because I borrowed your eyes." Medanzo toyed with the feather in his hand. "Basically, I don't appear... But this place is rather special. Even if only thoughts remain, different thoughts are still treated as independent individuals."
"You... borrowed mine?" Sister Celine instinctively touched the area around her eyes.
Medanzo shook his head. "It was only a metaphor. I didn't actually do anything to your eyes."
Sister Celine nodded in vague understanding, as if remembering something else. "Was it... was it that time, in that... that place with the layers of consciousness?"
"That was indeed when it happened." Medanzo nodded. "However, merely passing through you wasn't enough... Another medium was required for it to work. Of course, at the time, both conditions happened to be met."
Sister Celine thought for a moment. "I only remember that Scholar Calvin seemed to have... seemed to have something, and he stabbed me in the back with it. Right, before he left, he also gave me something... Could it be?"
"You didn't open it to see what it was?" Medanzo asked curiously.
Sister Celine shook her head. "I... I was afraid of trouble. Not knowing was probably for the best. Besides, Scholar Calvin said not to open it unless absolutely necessary."
"You really are obedient." Medanzo chuckled. "You were