Under the combined force of hinges, gears, and massive winches, the transport ship's gate slammed onto the ground.
Clang!
The fiery red vanished from Maronos's eyes. A force that demons found repulsive drove out the chaos in her nature. The fallen angel fluttered her wings, and clear consciousness returned her to order.
Then she saw a figure appear at the transport ship's entrance.
A bodysuit beneath a robe, a pointed hat atop her head.
A Witch!
The hatred carved into her bones made fiery red flare in her eyes once more.
The Witch with the signature black hair paused, looked at Maronos, then pulled a small bell from her pocket and gently shook it.
Jingle, jingle.
The crisp ringing of the bell was like some kind of record—some memory of wounds and pain.
A stabbing pain suddenly pierced Maronos's mind. It felt as though her wings had been snapped off, every bone in her body creaking as waves of spasmodic agony sent her collapsing to the ground with a sobbing groan.
The Witch smiled in satisfaction, gave a nasal hum, gripped the bell, and called loudly:
"Number 10642, you should be grateful that Blue-Clad Union Company bought you. Otherwise, your fate would not have been much better than that of your kind from Mount Celestia."
Maronos's eyes widened as she growled, "I am not the same kind as those creatures of Mount Celestia!"
"Number 10642, no matter what you say, you taste exactly like those creatures from Mount Celestia." The Witch revealed a bloodthirsty smile. She blinked and spread her hands. "And it is not as though you have nothing in common. Fallen angels nest on one layer of the Abyss, while Mount Celestia... both places were destroyed by us."
"Roar!" Maronos gritted her teeth and glared at the Witch,