Though there were no dazzling flashes or sounds, Jane's body suddenly jolted as if struck by an invisible current.
The order pad and pen in her hands fell to the floor with a clatter.
The color drained from her face in an instant. Her light brown eyes flew wide open, her pupils constricting, filled with terror that nearly overflowed.
She staggered a step back, her spine striking the back of an empty chair beside her with a dull thud.
Then she immediately turned to stare fixedly at Metatron before whipping her head toward Castiel.
Her gaze swept across Castiel's body—across his posture, unnatural despite his efforts to conceal it, and across those blue eyes that remained unlike any human's even under the suppression of earthly rules.
"An... angel..." she squeezed out through clenched teeth, her voice trembling beyond recognition.
Though her tone was uncertain, she had already confirmed it in her heart. She knew all too well that those angels who proclaimed themselves beings of light held no goodwill whatsoever toward Nephilim like her.
The thin yet genuine angelic bloodline belonging to a Nephilim sounded a piercing alarm at that moment.
The elderly couple at the next table seemed utterly unaware of the abnormality here, still eating their dinner at an unhurried pace.
In the entire restaurant, only the corner occupied by the three of them had suddenly frozen over.
"P-please..." Jane's voice took on a sobbing note, though she tried desperately to suppress it. Her body shook violently with fear. "I... I haven't... I've never hurt anyone... I've always been careful... I just want to live... like an ordinary person..."
Her words were chaotic and desperate, like the final struggles of a drowning person. Tears quickly welled up in her eyes and rolled down her pale cheeks.
"My mother...