The teleportation waypoint delivered the weary warriors directly to the Temple of Light, its luminous spires piercing the heart of the Pontifex District.
Exhaustion weighed heavily on their shoulders—they had fought through the endless night against forces that threatened everything they held sacred.
Yet showing weakness was not an option when they carried the hopes and dreams of every soul seeking sanctuary within these hallowed walls.
The Temple of Light stood as both fortress and haven for the Sisters of Light, its marble corridors echoing with whispered prayers and the soft rustle of white robes. Within the temple's grand atrium, a gathering of young initiates awaited them. These sisters, their power insufficient for combat, devoted themselves to temple maintenance, healing, and spreading WNEA's divine message throughout Heaven Port's furthest corners.
Hand-selected by WNEA herself, each maintained the sacred requirement of purity—untouched by mortal desire, as pristine as the light they embodied.
The lead sister stepped forward, her voice carrying the weight of ceremony. "Welcome, heroes who have fought and defeated H.E.N., the enemy of WNEA." Her words resonated through the vaulted chamber like a prayer.
Cathie inclined her head respectfully. "Thank you, Sister of Light." The formal acknowledgment felt heavy on her tongue, laden with the gravity of their mission.
Without hesitation, the sisters began unloading the cart of afflicted souls, their movements swift and purposeful. The temple doors swung wide, revealing an interior teeming with victims of H.E.N.'s corruption—men, women, and children seeking the healing only the Sisters of Light could provide. The sight struck the warriors like a physical blow, morale crumbling beneath the weight of so much suffering.
Recognizing their distress, the sisters immediately guided the battle-worn heroes toward the baths. "Come," they urged, their voices gentle but insistent. "Let us tend to you as you have tended to our people."
Cathie's jaw tightened with stubborn resolve. "The patients are our priority. We can wait."
The head priestess materialized beside her, wisdom etched in every line of her aged face. "You have fulfilled your duty. Now allow us to fulfill ours." Her tone brooked no argument, though her eyes held deep compassion.
"Please, sister, you have three powerful angels at your disposal. Use them before the situation spirals beyond control. It would be wise."
Further protest died on Cathie's lips. The priestess gathered the afflicted within the temple's central chamber, positioning the three angels to form a perfect triangle around the suffering masses. Their hands extended toward the sick, channels opening between flesh and divine essence. The angels accessed light mana—that purest form of healing magic known only to their kind, fundamentally different from the stamina-based magic humans wielded. Where human magic drew from physical reserves, angelic power flowed directly from the soul.
As the angels immersed themselves in their sacred work, the head priestess approached the two remaining human warriors. Her gaze held profound admiration. "The situation is well in hand. Your companions can manage without you." She gestured toward a younger priestess. "Please, allow her to escort you to the baths."
Within the marble-lined bathing chamber, the atmosphere hung thick with unspoken tension rather than the promised relaxation. Steam rose from the heated pools, carrying the scent of sacred oils and medicinal herbs, yet neither warrior seemed able to find peace in the warm embrace of the water.
Cathie studied her teammate's troubled expression, noting the doubt that clouded her usually confident demeanor. "Try not to overthink it," she offered, her voice echoing softly off the chamber walls. "We may be different races, lacking the same inherent powers, but in WNEA's eyes, we stand as equals.
We possess the same fundamental strength."
Hawo's silence stretched between them like a taut wire. Then, with deliberate purpose, she moved closer to Cathie, her footsteps creating gentle ripples across the pool's surface. The distance between them vanished as Hawo's intense gaze locked onto her captain's face.
Cathie's breath caught, her body tensing involuntarily. "What are you—"
"I never noticed before," Hawo whispered, her voice barely audible above the lapping water, "but your eyes... they're like pieces of sky captured in crystal." Her cheeks flushed crimson as she leaned closer, closing the final inches between them.
Their lips met in a kiss that tasted of desperation and longing, passion igniting like wildfire in the sacred space. For a heartbeat, Cathie surrendered to the sensation before reality crashed back. She pushed Hawo away, water splashing violently between them.
"This is forbidden!" Cathie's voice cracked with anguish. "Control yourself, Hawo!"
Hawo stumbled backward, her hand flying to her lips as if she could capture the lingering warmth. "Captain, I... I don't know what came over me. Forgive me."
Understanding dawned in Cathie's eyes, terrible and certain. "I know what happened." She pressed her back against the pool's edge, creating distance between them. "H.E.N.'s influence grows stronger. When you removed your protective amulet, you became vulnerable to its corruption. Lust—that's H.E.N.'s true weapon."
The Temple of Light stood as one of Heaven Port's most magnificent structures, its countless chambers and multiple bathing facilities designed to accommodate the complex social hierarchies of its inhabitants. While humans might share communal spaces without concern, angels maintained strict separation from other races.
WNEA's decision to open her sacred order to human participation had been revolutionary—and deeply controversial among her angelic followers, many of whom viewed any interaction with other races as a threat to their celestial purity.
Yet one angel harbored thoughts that diverged sharply from her brethren's rigid doctrine.
In a private bathing chamber adorned with mother-of-pearl inlays, Malaliel allowed the young human priestess to slowly pour warm, scented water over her luminous skin. The liquid cascaded down curves that seemed carved from moonlight itself, each droplet catching and reflecting the chamber's soft illumination.
The priestess leaned close, her breath warm against Malaliel's ear. "You performed admirably today, helping so many of the afflicted. But fighting that corrupt H.E.N. energy... it could accelerate your condition. Isn't it time you revealed the truth to Celestia before this situation becomes untenable?"
Malaliel's laugh held no humor, only bitter acceptance. "My situation has been untenable for years, beloved. I live on borrowed time."
"If Celestia discovers my secret, they'll imprison me in the deepest cells. i might never see daylight again."
"And if that imprisonment preserves your life, wouldn't it be worthwhile? Perhaps someday there will be a cure for this affliction.
Losing you is not an option I can accept, Malaliel."
The angel's voice grew distant, weighted with memory.
"I cannot recall the exact date the peace treaty was signed between angels and demons. But I remember with perfect clarity the moment I first gazed into your beautiful eyes.
" She turned to face the priestess fully, her expression fierce with conviction. "Other angels call it a disease—corruption visited upon us by making peace with demonkind. But for me, it was illumination. It opened my eyes to see and feel your love, something most angels deny themselves entirely. I have no regrets, and I will never fight against this feeling. If it becomes my doom, then let it be . I would gladly accept death if I could rest in your arms, Helen."
Before Helen could voice her protest, Malaliel's lips claimed hers in a kiss that banished all rational thought. The temperature in the chamber seemed to rise, passion igniting between the forbidden lovers. Malaliel's massive white wings unfurled behind her like sails catching divine wind—the physical manifestation of love's power to make one feel airborne.
But beneath passion's beautiful surface lay an ugly truth that could not be hidden forever. With each kiss they shared, Malaliel's wings grew darker, the pristine white feathers she had concealed through WNEA's divine power revealing their true corrupted state. Helen's eyes caught the transformation, and tears spilled down her cheeks as the devastating reality struck home—their love was doomed from its very conception.
With a sob that seemed torn from her soul, Helen pushed her lover away and fled the chamber, leaving the broken angel alone with her shame.
Malaliel's fist struck the bathwater with explosive force, sending waves cascading over the chamber's edges. Every instinct screamed at her to pursue, to fight for their love, to refuse this cruel separation. But in the end, wisdom prevailed over desperation. She sank deeper into the warm water, letting it cover her corrupted wings, and wept for a love that could never be.