"Only the Apostles know the truth about the Seven Gods and Adam, the true creator of this world and its truths."
Claus didn't know who this Adam really was, but his real problem was: **why** had he seen him in one of his visions? And why had he told him that he could now see him? Claus felt that none of these mysteries were being solved; on the contrary, they were multiplying.
— Now, give me back those damn wings! Alfred shouted, his voice trembling with anger.
— Alright, I'm going to move slowly and give them to you. Calm down.
Claus approached, step by step. When he was within reach, he held out the box. Just as Alfred was about to grab it, Claus threw it into the air. Seizing that moment of distraction, he grabbed the weapon from Alfred's hand and took him hostage. The guards drew their swords.
— Elizabeth, the box! gasped Claus.
Elizabeth snatched the box from Alfred's hands, turned to the guards, and activated her runes. She incanted incomprehensible words, and suddenly, all the guards collapsed, unconscious.
— I beg you, take everything I have, but give me back the wings… You can take it all, but not them, I beg you… sobbed Alfred Blakroks, like a child.
— I'm sorry, but we must complete our mission, replied Elizabeth.
— If it were up to us, we would never have come here. But the world is not ready for this kind of artifact. The wings of the Archangel Aria can cure all ills, but in return, they corrupt the soul. Look at yourself: you've become paranoid. How long has it been since you last had a full night's sleep?
Claus released Alfred, who fell to his knees, pleading. He didn't want to lose his most precious possession.
Especially after all he had been through.
FLASHBACK:
It was a night when the clouds poured out all their tears. Alfred Blakroks was sitting in his study, surrounded by mountains of parchments, grimoires, alchemical books – some dating back to the mythic era. Although the doctors and alchemists were unanimous:
— Her illness is incurable. She only has a few days left to live.
He was so lost in his research that many thought he had disappeared. He had dismissed all his staff, wanting to be alone, becoming a shadow of his former self.
But what changed everything was that night. The sky thundered, the rain fell relentlessly. Alfred didn't even notice the man sitting in the armchair in the corner, his face hidden by the shadows.
— Everything you are doing is in vain, my dear child.
The voice echoed in Alfred's head. He looked up abruptly and spotted the man. At the sight of him, Alfred could no longer move. It was neither a spell nor a trap: it was different. Frightening. As if crushed by an invisible force, too dangerous for a mere human.
This man is not human, he thought.
— Who are you? Alfred asked in a trembling voice.
— Do not be afraid. I am here to help you.
— Help me? How…
— I can. I can do anything. But on one condition: you must protect something for me.
— What?
The man stood up. Without a gesture, the desk, the files, the armchair, the floor… everything disintegrated into dust, revealing an ancient secret passage. Alfred followed the man who descended the staircase.
He remained silent, stunned by the scale of the gigantic walls that had been there, beneath his feet, all along. Arriving in front of a large door, it opened automatically as the man approached. Upon entering the room, Alfred fell to his knees before the statues of the seven dragons and the wings resting on the altar.
— Who are you? he asked, prostrating himself.
— I am Adam. And I have very big plans for you, dear child. I will heal you. Protect this place and these wings.
Alfred, forehead against the ground, murmured:
— Anything you wish, my lord.
When he looked up, he found himself dozing at his desk. Was it a dream? But it felt too real for a dream. He got up hastily, pushed his desk aside, and examined the floor. To his great astonishment, he felt that the floor was hollow. He returned with a club and, after several blows, the floor collapsed, revealing the same staircase from his dream.
A few minutes later, he stood before the large door, which opened exactly as in his dream. The same dragons, prostrated, facing the same altar, and the same black wings attached to the crystal circle.
Alfred was confused, awestruck, overwhelmed with emotion. But one thought arose:
If this room and these wings are truly here, then…
A few hours later, at the doctor's:
— You are completely healed, said the doctor, perplexed. A disease condemning a man to death had disappeared without a trace.
From that day on, Alfred changed. He became even more interested in tales of the past, learning forgotten things about this world, all while searching for who Adam really was. He wanted to thank him, to serve him. But he could never find him again.
And now, the only mission he had left, he had just failed it.
— If only I had enough power… Lord Adam, I have failed. I ask for your forgiveness. I could not serve you as I should.
Alfred was on the ground, watching Elizabeth and Claus walk away, cursing his powerlessness.
— Forgive me, Lord Adam. Give me a second chance, I beg you…
— Why do you cry, dear child?
The voice resonated in his head again, like that night. Impossible to forget.
— Lord Adam, I could not serve you properly because I was too weak. But I beg you, give me just a drop of your immense power. Then I will be able to serve you better.
Alfred no longer had the strength to get up, but he looked up at the man still unable to distinguish his face, even though the latter was crouching before him.
— Are you sure this is what you want, my child?
— Yes, Lord.
— Then so be it.
RETURN TO THE PRESENT:
Elizabeth and Claus were climbing the stairs, each lost in their thoughts. Suddenly, a violent headache struck Claus. His eyes turned white: a vision. The same shadow with red eyes and golden tears appeared.
— Survive this.
Claus regained his senses, supported by Elizabeth who asked him what was wrong.
— Alfred… Something's wrong. We have to go back.
Claus rushed back down the steps, as if he dreaded the inevitable.
— Claus, tell me what you saw! Elizabeth called out, following him.
Once they entered the altar room, they saw the man crouching before Alfred, holding a black apple from which he had taken a bite. He was offering the rest to Alfred, who was about to bite into it.
— No, Alfred, don't do that! Elizabeth cried.
— Ohhh… Hello, troublemaker. What should I call you again? Claus? Or… I don't remember, said the man.
— How do you know me?
— I know you… all too well. And your friend, what was her name again? Hmmm… Sandra, was it? She wouldn't stop calling for you.
— Who the hell are you, damn it?!
— I am here to help you. But first… survive this. Eat, my dear child.
A diabolical smile split the man's face. And Alfred bit into the apple.