Soaked with the rain, Crescent, was dead tired from the heavy consumption of life force accompanied by her lack of sleep. Her wings brought her back to her destroyed room which was full of debris. Not minding the shards that were embedded in her soles as the blood trickled from her wounds every time she took a step toward her bed.
Cent felt that she could sleep an entire century with her body being so heavy. Her consciousness kept on urging her to stay alert and remain vigilant after killing an angel on a whim and in a fit of anger. But the warm sensation spread from her inner heart as if it was a core of demonic aura surging with overwhelming power.
Something was changing inside her. In her slumber, Cent knew it. Drops of cold sweat fell from her face and neck. The edges of her gigantic wings sharpened. And the shadows around her which barely reacted to her mood were now on a rampage – hissing and crawling like a newly born predator that was hungry to devour.